On the Virtue of Gratitude...and Simplicity

 The World is Mine

Today, upon a bus, I saw a very beautiful woman
And wished I were as beautiful.
When suddenly she rose to leave,
I saw her hobble down the aisle.
She had one leg and wore a crutch.
But as she passed, she passed a smile.
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.
I have two legs; the world is mine.

I stopped to buy some candy.
The lad who sold it had such charm.
I talked with him, he seemed so glad.
If I were late, it'd do no harm.
And as I left, he said to me,
"I thank you,
you've been so kind.
It's nice to talk with folks like you.
You see," he said, "I'm blind."
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.
I have two eyes; the world is mine.

Later while walking down the street,
I saw a child I knew.
He stood and watched the others play,
but he did not know what to do.
I stopped a moment and then I said,
"Why don't you join them dear?"
He looked ahead without a word.
I forgot, he couldn't hear.
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.
I have two ears; the world is mine.

With feet to take me where I'd go..
With eyes to see the sunset's glow.
With ears to hear what I'd know.
Oh, God, forgive me when I whine.
I've been blessed indeed, the world is mine.

I received this poem by mail this morning and strangely enough it brought to my mind the need for simplicity in our faith and virtues. 

By faith, I mean one's personal relationship in God; not The Faith which is Catholic and the Truth. A simplicity which doesn't require proof or dissertation but a humble acceptance that the Father would not lie. 

I often wondered if Mother Mary really knew what she was getting into when she said her "Fiat". She was only a young girl then and illiterate at that too. Her faith would have been the simple faith of her forefathers; that God would always know best. A child-like trust and a simpleton's hope that pain and suffering would not be naught; troubled times would give way to a new day would arrive. 

To give you an exquisite example, watch the below video of Garvin Bryne, who had a rare condition of the bone marrow and died at the tender age of 11. He speaks of his faith and oncoming death. 

I tell you, he is a Saint!

I think God knew that the intellectuals among us would be terribly seduced by the wealth of knowledge in the Church and sentimental would wallow in the 'experience' of God's presence. Not that any of this is bad, but how many of us can claim to possess the Garvin's faith in his Saviour (Matt 18:4). Such grace and candour in the face of such a terrible fate!

Let's try this litmus test, shall we? Imagine you get to know that you have been slowly dying of a rare disease and you didn't even know about it. Now, time is short and you have passed the window where medical science could help. Would you at that point of time find yourself grateful for all the time God has blessed you with? Would you, as Garvin put it, look forward to the great adventure of seeing Jesus? Would you JUST KNOW that things, though terribly wrong and awry, will just work themselves out for the good of you, your family and all those you love and loved you because God is in control?

Perdition of Purgatory

I write this post after reading a brilliant one on St Therese of Lisieux and her insights into purgatory. I would highly recommend reading that post.

My own perceptions about purgatory was created in the black mine of ignorance about God, fueled by doubts about his love and my Catholic Catechism classes. 

Catechism wasn't to blame. They gave me the knowledge. 

"Purgatory is is a place or condition of temporal punishment for those who, departing this life in God's grace, are, not entirely free from venial faults, or have not fully paid the satisfaction due to their transgressions."

My definition of purgatory was something else. It was on the lines of a minor hell, boiling tubs of steam, heat and misery, tears and pain. All of imperfection boiled/ broiled away...

I lived in mortal fear of purgatory till someone told me that purgatory is place where the chosen are perfected in love. Our earthly sojourn is one where we learn to 'know God, love God and serve God' and the greatest of these is to Love him.

The Paradox of Christianity

Paradox is defined as a statement or proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.

What could be more paradoxical than Christianity? Let's try using Christianity in the same definition.


Christianity is a proposition that seems self-contradictory or absurd but in reality expresses a possible truth.


Doesn't sound bad at all. In fact, it sounds a tad close to the truth. 


Take for instance the The Cross

...on which hung the Saviour of the world

Crucifixion was considered the cruelest and the most deviant form of a punishment ever known in the civilized world. To Christians, the greatest symbol of hope for mankind. We wear miniature crosses around our necks not because we are sadistic but because we know there is someone who didn't mind the cross for our sake.

Then, the paradox of suffering. Once considered the scourge and punishment of the wicked, has been redeemed and raised to the deepest fellowship one can have with Christ. St. Therese of Lisieux says, 'My joy is to love suffering.'  Joy and suffering in the same line! 

To be one with our Wounded Saviour is be Simon of Cyrene, carrying that painful Cross awhile; is to be Our Lady at the foot of the Cross; is to see the wonders that suffering can do. 
To Simon, he received the great privilege of partaking in man's salvation. To his beloved Mother, Mary became the Co-mediatrix of All Graces. Love, makes all things possible.

And, O the paradox of death! Some fear it, some wish for it, some try to defy it...But for Christians, what was once an abhorred inevitability, has been turned into the gateway to eternal life. St. Francis called her Sister Bodily Death, a homecoming of sorts. Death ends nothing, it only signals the beginning of eternity.

St. Francis meditating on death

To be weak, is to be strong! I'd like to call it the paradox of the Servant-King. 

The Creator washing the hands face feet of his finite creation

To rejoice in one's weakness and vulnerability because it is in our weakness God's strength is unveiled. It is precisely BECAUSE of our weakness, we learn to depend on him, surrender to him and trust in him. 


O us, paradoxical Christians...

A World of my Own!

As I write this post, I find echos of my childhood wafting through my mind...


Strange! I always thought that I was a religious child; but I now think I was really very superstitious. I remember going to sleep with my right hand on my soul (a little over my stomach) like a lucky charm to keep the devil from stealing my soul when I was asleep.


I remember signing myself with the cross (several times) before writing an answer paper just so to be sure that I had done it the 'right way'. My belief was that God would not be appeased to help me out if I didn't 'salute' him rightly...


I remember searching for crosses or names of saints in the vaguest of places, situation...clouds, scenery, cutlery, wall graffiti, as a good-luck portent that my quest will be blessed because I found the hidden sigma.


I have now come to see that these were fallacies of an over-active imagination and a deep anxiety complex of an inherently insecure child. I read another blogger describing the same symptoms and she says that they were her meager attempts to seek control over an uncontrollable world. This rang true with me. 


The times when I found myself in a spot or disciplined, I immediately retreated into my make-believe world of perfection. Some would say, it's a beautiful talent to bring worlds and realities into existence. But there is something disoriented about a make-believe world which seems more real that than reality. This is no a la Calvin's Spaceman Spiff. There were days when I was in a haze, just sleepwalking through the day. The absent-present girl!

As Coraline finds out, a fantasy world is not all it's supposed to be...

The Boat that launched a Thousand Tales...

Queen of Heaven, Rejoice!

Alleluia

For He who you did merit to bear

Alleluia

Has risen, as He said

Alleluia

Pray for us to God

Alleluia

Rejoice and be glad of Virgin Mary, Alleluia

Because the Lord has truly risen, Alleluia

I couldn't resist starting this post with the Regina Caeli. It almost sets the context of our Christian walk, like a battle cry before the army advances. Christ is risen! Alleluia! Alleluia! 

I read this amazing article Google+ about a priest who was a passenger on the fateful Titanic. His uncle, the Bishop of Cloyne had given him a first class ticket to Cobh. This priest, Fr. Francis Browne SJ was an avid photographer and took many grainy black and white pictures of Titanic's daily life and crew on board the ship. His pictures are up on the link, if you would like to see them. 

Wait! The real story is yet to come...

If you look closely...notice Our Lady's statue by the side of Fr. Browne. 

She was there!

Fr. Browne would have been a young Jesuit with all the strappings of adventure and youthful exuberance at the time of his journey. He befriended a wealthy American family on board the Titanic. And, when they offered to sponsor his ticket from Cobh to New York, he excitedly messaged telegraphed his Superiors for permission to travel further. To which, he received a terse reply- "Get off the boat at once- Provincial"

It was 11 April 1912.

On her maiden journey...Titanic

On the 14 April 1912, Titanic- The Unsinkable; Titanic- Pride of the Seven Seas, hits an iceberg and sinks to the bottom of the Atlantic taking with her, 1500 innocent lives.

What is my point? Obedience saved his life. Or expand it into a larger context, Obedience brings forth New Life. 

In Our Lord's case, '...he humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, even death on the cross' (Phil 2:8). 
Why?
So that through his perfect obedience, many may be made perfect and live (Rom 5:19).


Fr.Browne would testify to it. His testy Provincial saved his life only because he humbled himself to obey. So, dear ones, do not necessarily look at the shape, size or candor of the messenger the Lord sends you; listen to the message and obey!

The Holy Week that was...

I was tired, tired, tired...I was in no mood for the Holy Week.

Pascal Triduum

I was at home with my family, hoping to do a lot of spiritual reading, praying, meditating on the Lord's journey to the grave and back but instead I was mopping around the house, feeling terribly insipid and almost paralyzed by lethargy. 


I couldn't figure out why?
Made my confession? check
Personal prayer (off late, it's becoming terribly whinny sort of praying, nevertheless...)? check
Served the Church (though my tiny prayer group)? Check


Then why O why, this misery? The nights were restless with insomnia. Not that I suffer from it but the restlessness of my spirit disturbed my peace and offered me no rest.


It was the worst on Good Friday...


On Easter, the darkness lifted.
I somehow felt that, in a smallish sort of way, I was participating in the Lord's passion. I never did realise what my restlessness of spirit was about but a dear friend in who I confided my malady, advised me to seek healing in the Eucharist. After all, the Lord is the penultimate, Divine healer. That night at the Vigil, tired and worn out I looked to the Lord and in my soul, I asked (begged) 'Lord, if you are willing, heal and deliver me.'


That night, I slept...


I am still tired after the last week but I am hopeful and not burdened.

This is not what I planned!!!

Yup, my Lent didn't go as planned...

Remember my earlier post on how God asked me to fast off worry and I supplemented it with some of my own weebies. 

The 'Holy Week' update is that I kept up my side of the abstinence and God kept his...just not how I expected him to do it. 

Everything seems to be wrong! So wrong, wrong, wrong. Nothing I do is going as planned. I even broke my abstinence off chocolate one evening only to realise it the next evening! How lame is that? 

The top of my head seems to be going off, my cell phone konked off and I have a fever.

WAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! 

The worst is when your mind feeds itself to self-pity and gory antagonism about your nearest and dearest ones. You don't realise how the words you say and the tone you use can hurt the very ones you love...

Why Lord? Why?

The answer came this morning. I was randomly clicking through one of the Catholic links and I found this completely unrelated excerpt in one of the articles.

"As I’ve gotten older I’ve found Lent to be a very fruitful season for me. Whether or not my Lent goes as planned–and often it doesn’t–growth happens.

(An aside, when Lent doesn't go as planned, remember St. Teresa of Avila: One Lent, she had an elaborate plan of penances and mortifications. But she spent the entire season sick in bed, with others waiting on her. One day in prayer, she complained to the Lord about this. “You had your plan for Lent, but this is my plan for you,” He said)"


So Lord, if this is your plan for me, then so be it. Amen