On Children
Kahil Gibran
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.
You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.
You may strive to be like them,
but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children
as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might
that His arrows may go swift and far.
Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies,
so He loves also the bow that is stable.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Monday, November 28, 2011
St Leonard's words of advice when the going gets tough.
It's Advent again, and a time to return our lives to Christ and await his second coming as we celebrate his first. It is a penitential time, a time to shrug of the worldly intoxications that we infatuate ourselves with and return to prayer and Christ. It is a difficult period especially in a secular society that began celebrating Christmas last month. For me, end of term MCQs and final examinations are rearing their ugly fanged heads. Now, it's a race to finish memorising everything that I shall have to know for this term.
When you're in university, no matter the course, it's always a mad rush for time. For me, my ADHD distracts me and biology is dragging me behind, it takes three hours to make each set of notes. I am blessed however, that it is only time that ails me because there are others who struggle with deeper issues than me with regards to understanding work and getting it done. But I-- or rather St Leonard has a solution for any of these problems! (Yes, a one size that fits all solution!)
Let me quote from his precious book, from examples to induce Tradesman or Artisans to hear Holy Mass, emphasis mine:
- St Leonard of Port Maurice, The Hidden Treasure
Apart from the long beautiful paragraph which our internet brains cannot endure, you may have noticed that this is intended for artisans and tradesmen, the businessmen, whose interests lies in making profits. How does that apply to me, the student, you cry, bewildered, invoking the names of several dinosaurs. It is simple, because we as students, we too desire earthly profit! Our avarice (greed) is in the desire for time! We are so greedy for it. Time is a material worldly value, it is precious, more so than money and we would be most foolish to waste it. Yet, we jealously guard it from its creator and our's. How many foolish times have I, in my youth, neglected even Sunday Mass, to study! And I thank God that he has made me wiser now, that I should give back to Him, what He has deigned to give me.
Now, my dear friends, I am not saying completely give up your studies to spend all your time in prayer. That is not your vocation, it is, at present to study, however, I am suggesting, that you perhaps, through this lovely advent, spend more time in prayer. If there is only one thing you do for Advent, go for daily Mass where possible, it is only half an hour of your time! If you fear the commitment, than, go more times than usual, go Monday, Wednesday, and Friday perhaps, or even just Monday and Friday. Whatever it is, set aside that time for God daily, and plan your day around it. Let nothing disturb that. Watch the change in your life appear.
That is what I shall plan to do this Advent. If you can, please say a Hail Mary for me that I complete all my exam prep in time!
To Thee, O Lord, have I lifted up my soul: in Thee, O my God, I put my trust; let me not be ashamed. Neither let my enemies laugh at me: for none of them that wait on Thee shall be confounded. V. Show, O Lord, Thy ways to me, and teach me Thy paths. V. Glory be. -Introitus, First Sunday of Advent, 1962
When you're in university, no matter the course, it's always a mad rush for time. For me, my ADHD distracts me and biology is dragging me behind, it takes three hours to make each set of notes. I am blessed however, that it is only time that ails me because there are others who struggle with deeper issues than me with regards to understanding work and getting it done. But I-- or rather St Leonard has a solution for any of these problems! (Yes, a one size that fits all solution!)
Let me quote from his precious book, from examples to induce Tradesman or Artisans to hear Holy Mass, emphasis mine:
But you are thinking that the avaricious will never listen except to a tune in their own key. Well, then be it so. Get rich, gather up, make profit. What is the surest way? I will show you: daily hear Holy Mass with thorough devotion. It is plainly seen in the case of two artisans whom I could point out. Both pursue the same trade; one is burdened with a family: wife, children, grandchildren; the other is burdened alone with his wife. The first has brought up his family in great comfort and even style, and has all his transactions turn out wonderfully. Customers at his shop, and sales despatched. So he has gone on, till he finds himself putting by every year a good round sum, to serve in time for marriage-portions for his daughters. The other, who is without children, at one time got little employment, was half famished, and was, in short, a ruined man. One day he said confidentially to his neighbour, 'How is it you do? In your home there rains down every blessing of God; while I, poor wretch, cannot hold up my head; and all sorts of calamities light on my house.' 'I will tell you,' said his neighbour, 'Tomorrow morning I shall be with you, and I will point out the place from which I draw so much.' Next morning he took him to church to hear Mass, and then led him back to his workshop; and so two or three different times, till at last the poor man said, 'If nothing else is wanted than to go to church to hear Mass, I know the way well enough, without putting you to inconvenience.' 'Just so,' said the other; 'hear holy Mass, my friend with devotion, every day, and you will see a change on the face of your fortune.' And, in fact, so it was. Beginning to hear Mass every morning, he became well provided with work, shortly paid his debts, and put his house once more in capital condition. (Sar. in Vit. S. Joan. Eleem.) Trust the words of the Gospel. And if you do so, how can you doubt the fact? Does it not say clearly, Quaerite primum regnum Dei…et haec omnia adjicientur vobis? 'Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be added unto you.' (St Matt vi. 33.) Make but the trial of a year; hear holy Mass every morning with true earnest devotion for one year, and if your temporal interests do not take a better turn, lay the blame on me. But there is little fear of that; you will rather have many reasons to thank me.
- St Leonard of Port Maurice, The Hidden Treasure
Apart from the long beautiful paragraph which our internet brains cannot endure, you may have noticed that this is intended for artisans and tradesmen, the businessmen, whose interests lies in making profits. How does that apply to me, the student, you cry, bewildered, invoking the names of several dinosaurs. It is simple, because we as students, we too desire earthly profit! Our avarice (greed) is in the desire for time! We are so greedy for it. Time is a material worldly value, it is precious, more so than money and we would be most foolish to waste it. Yet, we jealously guard it from its creator and our's. How many foolish times have I, in my youth, neglected even Sunday Mass, to study! And I thank God that he has made me wiser now, that I should give back to Him, what He has deigned to give me.
Now, my dear friends, I am not saying completely give up your studies to spend all your time in prayer. That is not your vocation, it is, at present to study, however, I am suggesting, that you perhaps, through this lovely advent, spend more time in prayer. If there is only one thing you do for Advent, go for daily Mass where possible, it is only half an hour of your time! If you fear the commitment, than, go more times than usual, go Monday, Wednesday, and Friday perhaps, or even just Monday and Friday. Whatever it is, set aside that time for God daily, and plan your day around it. Let nothing disturb that. Watch the change in your life appear.
That is what I shall plan to do this Advent. If you can, please say a Hail Mary for me that I complete all my exam prep in time!
To Thee, O Lord, have I lifted up my soul: in Thee, O my God, I put my trust; let me not be ashamed. Neither let my enemies laugh at me: for none of them that wait on Thee shall be confounded. V. Show, O Lord, Thy ways to me, and teach me Thy paths. V. Glory be. -Introitus, First Sunday of Advent, 1962
Friday, November 25, 2011
Thank you, St Thérèse.
I am very thankful to have discovered St Thérèse just before leaving Singapore. It was within the last four weeks I remember. How humbled I have been by her life so far. These are certainly lessons that I greatly need, for I am a very arrogant and pride boy. I don't even know how I can be so proud, having been born with a disorder that should make me very lowly, since it has been rather life debilitating. I also cannot say that anything I have achieved has been through my own hand, for where I am now is really through the mercy of God. And yet, I am still so proud. Humility is a harsh lesson, one that I am thankful God has deigned to continue to drill into me, though I am a very poor, distracted and inattentive learner.
Now, I just need to stop complaining about how slow and boring the lessons in school are. >.< or perhaps, stop complaining about anything in general.
Now, I just need to stop complaining about how slow and boring the lessons in school are. >.< or perhaps, stop complaining about anything in general.
A lesson from St Thérèse
Currently I am reading St Thérèse's book during adoration. I hope it pleases the Lord that I should learn more from the example of His Little Flower in His presence. I was reading this two weeks ago during adoration, and I thought it was a very lesson to learn, so I shall put the text here and you can try to follow Her example.
It is certainly a very difficult example to follow. I hope the Holy Spirit gives me the grace to find something virtuous and beautiful about the people I most resent or at the very least to smile lovingly at the image of Christ within them.
Dear Mother, I feel that I have expressed myself with more than usual confusion, and I do not know what you can find to interest you in these rambling pages, but I am not aiming at a literary masterpiece, and if I weary you by this discourse on charity, it will at least prove your child's good will. I must confess I am far from living up to my ideal, and yet the very desire to do so gives me a feeling of peace. If I fall into some fault, I arise again at once—and for some months now I have not even had to struggle. I have been able to say with our holy Father, St. John of the Cross: "My house is entirely at peace," and I attribute this interior peace to a victory I gained over myself. Since that victory, the hosts of Heaven have hastened to my aid, for they will not allow me to be wounded, now that I have fought so valiantly.
A holy nun of our community annoyed me in all that she did; the devil must have had something to do with it, and he it was undoubtedly who made me see in her so many disagreeable points. I did not want to yield to my natural antipathy, for I remembered that charity ought to betray itself in deeds, and not exist merely in the feelings, so I set myself to do for this sister all I should do for the one I loved most. Every time I met her I prayed for her, and offered to God her virtues and merits. I felt that this was very pleasing to Our Lord, for there is no artist who is not gratified when his works are praised, and the Divine Artist of souls is pleased when we do not stop at the exterior, but, penetrating to the inner sanctuary He has chosen, admire its beauty.
I did not rest satisfied with praying for this Sister, who gave me such occasions for self-mastery, I tried to render her as many services as I could, and when tempted to answer her sharply, I made haste to smile and change the subject, for the Imitation says: "It is more profitable to leave everyone to his way of thinking than to give way to contentious discourses." And sometimes when the temptation was very severe, I would run like a deserter from the battlefield if I could do so without letting the Sister guess my inward struggle.
One day she said to me with a beaming face: "My dear Soeur Thérèse, tell me what attraction you find in me, for whenever we meet, you greet me with such a sweet smile." Ah! What attracted me was Jesus hidden in the depths of her soul—Jesus who maketh sweet even that which is most bitter.
It is certainly a very difficult example to follow. I hope the Holy Spirit gives me the grace to find something virtuous and beautiful about the people I most resent or at the very least to smile lovingly at the image of Christ within them.
Saturday, November 19, 2011
A little time to reflect.
I had this thought the other day. It was rather unexpectedly injected into my prefrontal cortex. I was thinking about euthanasia, and juxtaposing how the utilitarian values the quadriplegic person as opposed to the Christian. Rather standard mock argument and reflecting. Then I just pictured myself getting run over by a car and loosing sensation from neck down. I heard the doctor telling someone about the options and how humane it would be to terminate my life. And I saw myself blinking a great deal to say, 'don't kill me, I'm alive!'
Of course, survival thoughts turned to thoughts of 'what now?'. To be completely dependent, and vulnerable and unable to do move or do anything at all. The ADHD kid's worst nightmare! We are a special bunch, us ADHD kids, we need to run and jump and just be hyper. There's always something that has to be done. I remember when I had a multi-ligament tear in my ankle earlier this year, and for the first day or two before the air cast, I was confined to house, and not just the house, but to a particular floor. I almost went crazy from having nothing to do and no one to talk to. Being paralysed would be far worse! Imagine, all that, while not being able to even talk! Don't forget, no more nice food, because you can't chew or there's fear of you choking on it. Never mind, basic bodily functions.
Ya, I think being paralysed is kinda inconvenient.
Anyway, what struck me was, what would I do all day? And the answer was simple. Pray. I'll just pray all day, and find someway to spend much of my time in adoration. It's like being a monk....in your body!
What was not so simple was when I found myself asking, 'assuming it is God's will that you are paralysed tomorrow, or now? then what?' and I knew he answer was the one mentioned above, but I didn't like the reluctance in my heart for not immediately reaching to share in the cup of suffering and carry my cross.
O Lord my God, I now at this moment, readily and willingly accept at Thy hand, whatever kind of death it may please Thee to send me, with all it's pain, penalties and sorrow. Amen.
Of course, survival thoughts turned to thoughts of 'what now?'. To be completely dependent, and vulnerable and unable to do move or do anything at all. The ADHD kid's worst nightmare! We are a special bunch, us ADHD kids, we need to run and jump and just be hyper. There's always something that has to be done. I remember when I had a multi-ligament tear in my ankle earlier this year, and for the first day or two before the air cast, I was confined to house, and not just the house, but to a particular floor. I almost went crazy from having nothing to do and no one to talk to. Being paralysed would be far worse! Imagine, all that, while not being able to even talk! Don't forget, no more nice food, because you can't chew or there's fear of you choking on it. Never mind, basic bodily functions.
Ya, I think being paralysed is kinda inconvenient.
Anyway, what struck me was, what would I do all day? And the answer was simple. Pray. I'll just pray all day, and find someway to spend much of my time in adoration. It's like being a monk....in your body!
What was not so simple was when I found myself asking, 'assuming it is God's will that you are paralysed tomorrow, or now? then what?' and I knew he answer was the one mentioned above, but I didn't like the reluctance in my heart for not immediately reaching to share in the cup of suffering and carry my cross.
O Lord my God, I now at this moment, readily and willingly accept at Thy hand, whatever kind of death it may please Thee to send me, with all it's pain, penalties and sorrow. Amen.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
“I will love you as a drawer loves a secret compartment, and as a secret compartment loves a secret, and as a secret loves to make a person gasp, and as a gasping person loves a glass of brandy to calm their nerves, and as a glass of brandy loves to shatter on the floor, and as the noise of glass shattering loves to make someone else gasp, and as someone else gasping loves a nearby desk to lean against, even if leaning against it presses a lever that loves to open a drawer and reveal a secret compartment. I will love you until all such compartments are discovered and opened, and until all the secrets have gone gasping into the world. I will love you until all the codes and hearts have been broken and until every anagram and egg has been unscrambled.”
— The Beatrice Letters, by Lemony Snicket
— The Beatrice Letters, by Lemony Snicket
Friday, November 11, 2011
Good Morning
Very, very happy this morning!
The Lord remembered His lowliest servant and deigned to visit him.
The Lord remembered His lowliest servant and deigned to visit him.
Sunday, November 06, 2011
Studying too much
6 easy steps that will help YOU, yes YOU to make the most of your pet virus.
1. ATTACH it (to a protein receptor on a potential host cell. Or become attached to it, always good to spend time with your pets.)
2. let it PENETRATE the host cell (because it's naughty that way)
3. UNCOAT the capside (cause penetration gets hot)
4. ECLIPSE. (the viral version of Twilight, cause teenage viruses need to go on dates to facilitate little virus making)
5. ASSEMBLY it (as most young viruses will do, your virus will have run off and left many broken things for you to put together)
6. RELEASE it. (congratulations, you're now a proud owner of >500 more pet viruses. Pass some onto your friends and repeat steps 1-6)
1. ATTACH it (to a protein receptor on a potential host cell. Or become attached to it, always good to spend time with your pets.)
2. let it PENETRATE the host cell (because it's naughty that way)
3. UNCOAT the capside (cause penetration gets hot)
4. ECLIPSE. (the viral version of Twilight, cause teenage viruses need to go on dates to facilitate little virus making)
5. ASSEMBLY it (as most young viruses will do, your virus will have run off and left many broken things for you to put together)
6. RELEASE it. (congratulations, you're now a proud owner of >500 more pet viruses. Pass some onto your friends and repeat steps 1-6)
Monday, October 31, 2011
Death.
A little poem reminder of the things to come this week.
Emily Dickinson
Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.
We slowly drove, he knew no haste,
And I had put away
My labor, and my leisure too,
For his civility.
We passed the school, where children strove
At recess, in the ring;
We passed the fields of gazing grain,
We passed the setting sun.
Or rather, he passed us;
The dews grew quivering and chill,
For only gossamer my gown,
My tippet only tulle.
We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.
Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.
Friday, October 28, 2011
Do you ever feel like you're not real Christian?
I should be sleeping now, but I can't sleep. I have quite a few things on my mind, needless to say one of those things has become the title of this blog. Now, I've never encountered such a question before until about two weeks ago, when I sat down for a bible study. 'Do you ever feel like you're not a real Christian?'
Needless to say, I was stumped. I'll just go straight out and say it. What the brontosaurus does that mean?! Well, that's what ran through my head colourfully as fast as brontosauri ran, if they could run. How does one be Christian and not feel like a real Christian? What is a real Christian? So, it turns out, that what the question actually meant, according to the facilitator was, having you ever committed such a grave sin that you've felt that you aren't a Christian anymore.
Well, now that he put it that way....well, it almost all made sense. Almost. I guess, I've personally never doubted my identity as a 'real' Christian. If anyone needed proof that I was a real Christian, I had my baptismal and confirmation certificates to prove it. Signed and seal with the Holy Ghost! It doesn't get any better than that. However, if you asked me if I ever felt like a 'good' Christian. Well, the answer is not as clear, maybe, but I probably am not most of the time. I might be religious, but I'm far from Holy.
I find it very strange that protestants can have this idea of not feeling like a real Christian. This idea that sin tears you away from the promises of baptismal, the indelible seal of the Holy Ghost, forever supernaturally marked upon your soul by the very Almighty God who created you. Though, some of them downplay the importance of baptism, some never receive it, even though it's in the bible. So, what makes a real Christian?
Simply put, what makes us Christian is really that indelible mark of baptism. It is the gift of grace that from God that allows to be imbued with his spirit and to given the chance to discover him, and to have that faith. It’s a gift that God free chooses to give and that we choose to accept. No one chooses God, do decides to take Jesus as his personal saviour and lord. It is Christ who chooses you and calls you. And, when we answer that call through our baptism that we become Christians and are admitted into that great family in heaven who will never abandon us in life or death.
I suppose, however, that there is this supposed ideal of being Christian that one has live up to. This ideal generalises that Christians should be virtuous, charitable, kind, patient, and loving. To be a Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, or Bl. Pope John Paul II to everyone. Essentially, while the modern world condemns Christians, they expect them to be really good human beings, and well, they aren't wrong for having such high expectations. After all, the call to be Christian is certainly more than a mere figure of identity, or a paper cert acknowledging the occurrence of some ritual, no, it's far more. It is a call to love and serve God with complete obedience and humility to His divine will. You have to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, take in the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned (Matt 25:31-46). And that's only one lesson, there are ton from everything on loving your enemies (Matt 5:44), to forgive and keep forgiving(Matt 18:22), to giving up everything and eschewing worldly pleasures (Matt 19:21), to getting insulted and hated for God(Mark 13:13/John 15:18). It is essentially to be completely Christ-like in life and is certainly not an easy one. (Go on, think of the person you hate the most and say I am going to love him, and tell me you think it's easy.)
Hence, because of these great people (noticed how I used two saints as examples), there certainly is a high standard to live up to! After all, our faith manifests in the work that we do and we see that in how St James remonstrates us in his letter that 'What shall it profit...if a man say he hath faith, but hath not works? Shall faith save him?' (James 2:14). Thus, there certainly is an ideal for a Christian to live up to. And, the saints are great examples of that ideal, after all, they strove to love God with all their heart and to live their lives with heroic virtue, and so, represent a semblance of that ideality. However, there is one person in the whole of creation who completely fulfills that ideality, and to us is the greatest example and the greatest saint of all and that is Our Lady and our heavenly mother, Mary. Through her obedience to God, we have attained the Saviour of the World.
Yet, while we strive for ideality, there is always the reality of the situation, we are fallen people, and thus we fall into sin, time and time again. Even Our Lady could not do it alone, She stayed pure and immaculate because God filled Her up to the brim with His grace, and so He too gives us his grace to avoid sin when we ask for it. In fact, more than just his grace, he has given us the sacrament of confession when we still fall, so that we may return to him, and to admit and take responsibility of our sins and through that, we receive his forgiveness and absolution.
And that is the reality of being Christian. We all fall because and we need the humility to accept that we fall, because we are human. We are not perfect, though we must strive to be good, we still will fall. And when we sin, we need to ask God to forgive us, and He will, hence the sacramental confession.
St Peter Julian Eymard says, 'He loves, He hopes, He waits. If He came down on our altars on certain days only, some sinner, on being moved to repentance, might have to look for Him, and not finding Him, might have to wait. Our Lord prefers to wait Himself for the sinner for years rather than keep him waiting one instant.' Like the Father who spent all his days just waiting and watching for the return of His prodigal son, so he waits for us! and how comforting to hear those words,
'God the Father, through the death and ressurexion of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church, may he give you pardon and peace. And, I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.'
O what great comfort! For I know, truly, that through the words of my confessor, and the authority that Christ gave to him when He commissioned the apostles, that 'if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained (Jn 20:23), I am forgiven of all my sins!
Perhaps, this is why if one is understands the faith sufficiently, one will remember that it is true baptism that one is a Christian. A Christian falls, but stands up again, repents, seeks the forgiveness of the Lord, and does penance. There is no sin too big that God cannot forgive, and there is never any sin that God does not want to forgive, only as long as we ask for it.
'However awkward confession may be, it is the decisive place where one experiences anew the freshness of the Gospel, where one is reborn. There we also learn to blow away our pangs of conscience, just as a child blows a falling autumn leaf. There we find the happiness of God, the dawn of perfect joy.' Br Roger Schutz
'After a fall, stand up again right away! Do not leave sin in your heart for even a moment!' - St John Vianney
'Love Jesus! Have no fear! Even if you had committed all the sins in the world, Jesus repeats these words to you: Your many sins are forgiven, because you have loved much.' - St Padre Pio
Needless to say, I was stumped. I'll just go straight out and say it. What the brontosaurus does that mean?! Well, that's what ran through my head colourfully as fast as brontosauri ran, if they could run. How does one be Christian and not feel like a real Christian? What is a real Christian? So, it turns out, that what the question actually meant, according to the facilitator was, having you ever committed such a grave sin that you've felt that you aren't a Christian anymore.
Well, now that he put it that way....well, it almost all made sense. Almost. I guess, I've personally never doubted my identity as a 'real' Christian. If anyone needed proof that I was a real Christian, I had my baptismal and confirmation certificates to prove it. Signed and seal with the Holy Ghost! It doesn't get any better than that. However, if you asked me if I ever felt like a 'good' Christian. Well, the answer is not as clear, maybe, but I probably am not most of the time. I might be religious, but I'm far from Holy.
I find it very strange that protestants can have this idea of not feeling like a real Christian. This idea that sin tears you away from the promises of baptismal, the indelible seal of the Holy Ghost, forever supernaturally marked upon your soul by the very Almighty God who created you. Though, some of them downplay the importance of baptism, some never receive it, even though it's in the bible. So, what makes a real Christian?
Simply put, what makes us Christian is really that indelible mark of baptism. It is the gift of grace that from God that allows to be imbued with his spirit and to given the chance to discover him, and to have that faith. It’s a gift that God free chooses to give and that we choose to accept. No one chooses God, do decides to take Jesus as his personal saviour and lord. It is Christ who chooses you and calls you. And, when we answer that call through our baptism that we become Christians and are admitted into that great family in heaven who will never abandon us in life or death.
I suppose, however, that there is this supposed ideal of being Christian that one has live up to. This ideal generalises that Christians should be virtuous, charitable, kind, patient, and loving. To be a Bl. Mother Teresa of Calcutta, or Bl. Pope John Paul II to everyone. Essentially, while the modern world condemns Christians, they expect them to be really good human beings, and well, they aren't wrong for having such high expectations. After all, the call to be Christian is certainly more than a mere figure of identity, or a paper cert acknowledging the occurrence of some ritual, no, it's far more. It is a call to love and serve God with complete obedience and humility to His divine will. You have to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, clothe the naked, take in the stranger, visit the sick and imprisoned (Matt 25:31-46). And that's only one lesson, there are ton from everything on loving your enemies (Matt 5:44), to forgive and keep forgiving(Matt 18:22), to giving up everything and eschewing worldly pleasures (Matt 19:21), to getting insulted and hated for God(Mark 13:13/John 15:18). It is essentially to be completely Christ-like in life and is certainly not an easy one. (Go on, think of the person you hate the most and say I am going to love him, and tell me you think it's easy.)
Hence, because of these great people (noticed how I used two saints as examples), there certainly is a high standard to live up to! After all, our faith manifests in the work that we do and we see that in how St James remonstrates us in his letter that 'What shall it profit...if a man say he hath faith, but hath not works? Shall faith save him?' (James 2:14). Thus, there certainly is an ideal for a Christian to live up to. And, the saints are great examples of that ideal, after all, they strove to love God with all their heart and to live their lives with heroic virtue, and so, represent a semblance of that ideality. However, there is one person in the whole of creation who completely fulfills that ideality, and to us is the greatest example and the greatest saint of all and that is Our Lady and our heavenly mother, Mary. Through her obedience to God, we have attained the Saviour of the World.
Yet, while we strive for ideality, there is always the reality of the situation, we are fallen people, and thus we fall into sin, time and time again. Even Our Lady could not do it alone, She stayed pure and immaculate because God filled Her up to the brim with His grace, and so He too gives us his grace to avoid sin when we ask for it. In fact, more than just his grace, he has given us the sacrament of confession when we still fall, so that we may return to him, and to admit and take responsibility of our sins and through that, we receive his forgiveness and absolution.
And that is the reality of being Christian. We all fall because and we need the humility to accept that we fall, because we are human. We are not perfect, though we must strive to be good, we still will fall. And when we sin, we need to ask God to forgive us, and He will, hence the sacramental confession.
St Peter Julian Eymard says, 'He loves, He hopes, He waits. If He came down on our altars on certain days only, some sinner, on being moved to repentance, might have to look for Him, and not finding Him, might have to wait. Our Lord prefers to wait Himself for the sinner for years rather than keep him waiting one instant.' Like the Father who spent all his days just waiting and watching for the return of His prodigal son, so he waits for us! and how comforting to hear those words,
'God the Father, through the death and ressurexion of His Son, has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit for the forgiveness of sins. Through the ministry of the Church, may he give you pardon and peace. And, I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit.'
O what great comfort! For I know, truly, that through the words of my confessor, and the authority that Christ gave to him when He commissioned the apostles, that 'if you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained (Jn 20:23), I am forgiven of all my sins!
Perhaps, this is why if one is understands the faith sufficiently, one will remember that it is true baptism that one is a Christian. A Christian falls, but stands up again, repents, seeks the forgiveness of the Lord, and does penance. There is no sin too big that God cannot forgive, and there is never any sin that God does not want to forgive, only as long as we ask for it.
'However awkward confession may be, it is the decisive place where one experiences anew the freshness of the Gospel, where one is reborn. There we also learn to blow away our pangs of conscience, just as a child blows a falling autumn leaf. There we find the happiness of God, the dawn of perfect joy.' Br Roger Schutz
'After a fall, stand up again right away! Do not leave sin in your heart for even a moment!' - St John Vianney
'Love Jesus! Have no fear! Even if you had committed all the sins in the world, Jesus repeats these words to you: Your many sins are forgiven, because you have loved much.' - St Padre Pio
Monday, October 17, 2011
I go to a non-denominational church every Sunday.
Hello! My name is David and I am a non-denominational Christian, and I go to a non-denominational church. Yes, it’s absolutely true! Perhaps, if I may, my dear reader, you would permit me a chance to talk a little about my Church and her history?
My Church was started in the 30s. It’s a relatively new church, in the history of the world that is. I should specify, my church was started in 33 A.D., somewhere in Jerusalem, by a man named Jesus Christ, who as it turns out, was also God! It was a great historical event that was chronicled in the bible by the evangelist and apostle St Matthew; see Matt 16:18. God also promised that no matter what happens the Church would never fall, then he commissioned his apostles to lead the Church and sent them His Holy Spirit to guide them in their divine commissions (Acts 2). Having a church started by God himself is kinda special…actually, really special.
I guess you could say that we were one of the first, if not the first non-denominational Church ever in the world. The first twelve leaders of my church took in everyone. They never cared or discriminated against slaves or emperors, the poor and the aristocracy, pagan or Jew, man or woman, white or black, a prostitute or soldier. They especially loved to take in sinners, oh how they love those sinners especially. They also looove to forgive sins through the power invested in them by Christ. They love to turn sinners into saints.
They only had three criteria for joining really, to ‘love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind and all your soul’, and to ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ and to understand what that completely meant. They were kinda slack on the first two criteria, because they knew it would be very difficult to follow, so they worked their bestest to help people achieve the third one as much as possible before letting them in. See, they had to be a bit prudent about letting people in, because in that time, if you joined this church, you might lose your life. Anyway, despite all that, the small tiny church did thrive and grow. Nowadays, they still teach people to achieve the third criteria, and we are still growing.
That said, for the first few hundred years they were aggressively pursued and persecuted, with many being put to death, under Nero and then Diocletian and it was only when St Constantine the Great, after the influence of his great mother, St Helena, joined my church and issued the edict of Milan in 313 A.D. that my church-goers were given some peace. It was then, in about 397 A.D., that the leaders of my Church got together for coffee and some biscuits in Carthage and decided to compile the bible, that same Bible that everyone uses today.
They also did some really awesome stuff over the next two thousands years. They evangelised many pagans, and helped intellectually fight heresies and naysayers, they started the first universities, hospitals, brought education to the working class with their schools. They advanced philosophy, one of our greatest philosophers even used logic to reason that God exists, and his arguments stand undefeated even until today, and he lived 900 years ago. They also worked hard to advance science, law, astronomy, art and music. They invented musical notation and the do-re-mi scale. They created polyphony, which is some of the most gorgeous and beautiful music you can ever hear. The gothic and baroque styles of architecture can be traced back to the great churches they built.
They branched out all over the world. It’s really quite cool, you can go to practically almost any country in the world and you’ll be able to find a church to go to on Sunday. They say you can go to one of our churches anywhere in the world and service will be the same. And they don’t discriminate or separate either, no youth or adult service; everyone comes together like a gigantic family to celebrate God. You know what the best part is? They still take in everybody of every colour, race, height, size and shape. From royalty to poverty, professionals to odd-job labourers, everyone! And you know what? They still love sinners, they especially welcome them.
My Church was started in the 30s. It’s a relatively new church, in the history of the world that is. I should specify, my church was started in 33 A.D., somewhere in Jerusalem, by a man named Jesus Christ, who as it turns out, was also God! It was a great historical event that was chronicled in the bible by the evangelist and apostle St Matthew; see Matt 16:18. God also promised that no matter what happens the Church would never fall, then he commissioned his apostles to lead the Church and sent them His Holy Spirit to guide them in their divine commissions (Acts 2). Having a church started by God himself is kinda special…actually, really special.
I guess you could say that we were one of the first, if not the first non-denominational Church ever in the world. The first twelve leaders of my church took in everyone. They never cared or discriminated against slaves or emperors, the poor and the aristocracy, pagan or Jew, man or woman, white or black, a prostitute or soldier. They especially loved to take in sinners, oh how they love those sinners especially. They also looove to forgive sins through the power invested in them by Christ. They love to turn sinners into saints.
They only had three criteria for joining really, to ‘love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your mind and all your soul’, and to ‘love your neighbor as yourself’ and to understand what that completely meant. They were kinda slack on the first two criteria, because they knew it would be very difficult to follow, so they worked their bestest to help people achieve the third one as much as possible before letting them in. See, they had to be a bit prudent about letting people in, because in that time, if you joined this church, you might lose your life. Anyway, despite all that, the small tiny church did thrive and grow. Nowadays, they still teach people to achieve the third criteria, and we are still growing.
That said, for the first few hundred years they were aggressively pursued and persecuted, with many being put to death, under Nero and then Diocletian and it was only when St Constantine the Great, after the influence of his great mother, St Helena, joined my church and issued the edict of Milan in 313 A.D. that my church-goers were given some peace. It was then, in about 397 A.D., that the leaders of my Church got together for coffee and some biscuits in Carthage and decided to compile the bible, that same Bible that everyone uses today.
They also did some really awesome stuff over the next two thousands years. They evangelised many pagans, and helped intellectually fight heresies and naysayers, they started the first universities, hospitals, brought education to the working class with their schools. They advanced philosophy, one of our greatest philosophers even used logic to reason that God exists, and his arguments stand undefeated even until today, and he lived 900 years ago. They also worked hard to advance science, law, astronomy, art and music. They invented musical notation and the do-re-mi scale. They created polyphony, which is some of the most gorgeous and beautiful music you can ever hear. The gothic and baroque styles of architecture can be traced back to the great churches they built.
They branched out all over the world. It’s really quite cool, you can go to practically almost any country in the world and you’ll be able to find a church to go to on Sunday. They say you can go to one of our churches anywhere in the world and service will be the same. And they don’t discriminate or separate either, no youth or adult service; everyone comes together like a gigantic family to celebrate God. You know what the best part is? They still take in everybody of every colour, race, height, size and shape. From royalty to poverty, professionals to odd-job labourers, everyone! And you know what? They still love sinners, they especially welcome them.
PS:Oh, psssst, I'll let you in on a secret. The actual best part about my Church is that during service, you actually get to physically meet Jesus! Like in person. Shhh ok? It's a big secret.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
The Canonised Saints: mere believers or much more?
Today, I attended a bible study on St Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where the apostle addresses the new church in Philippi, greeting them as saints together with the bishops ('overseers' in that translation, but that's for another day) and deacons.
'Paul and Timothy, the servants of Jesus Christ: to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.' - Phil 1:1
So it was then explained that meaning of the word saint, apart from meaning, holy or 'set apart', was in referral to the Church at Philippi. Then, it was further explained that the word saint could actually be applied to everyone in the room. All that was needed to be one a saint was the belief in Christ, and that's why those people who are remembered on special days are called saints, for their belief. It was further admonished that that was why they weren't any more special than the ordinary Joe and thus don't need to be placed on a pedestal and revered. In fact, it was said, some people get carried away and hold them with such high regard and status, treating them as great people and some denominations even worship them.
Call me Catholic, but alarm bells were going off in my neuro-OS as though the Saracens were trying to invade Constantinople again. I could feel my blood heating up. Then, I thought for a second, and I realised that you know what? By golly gosh, he's right!
The Saints were ordinary people. They were just like us, 206 bones, two eyes, one mouth, two ears, hair, one nose. They came from all walks of life. Some were peasants, farmers and extremely poor, others were emperors, royalty and aristocrats. Some were geniuses and redefined philosophy as you know it, others were very simply minded or had mental problems. Some were physicians, scientists and lawyers, others were artists, simple folk, maidens. Some were married and started families and parented children, others married Christ, and devoted their lives to prayer, meditation and parenting His flock. Some confessed Christ and were brutally murdered for his name, other's confessed Him and lived long lives in a testament to His name. At the centre of it all, is their ardent belief in one Jesus Christ, the God who became man, lived amongst man, and sacrificed Himself to save man.
So, these saints, they were really just ordinary people, much like ourselves, who believed in Christ. If that's true, than what makes them so special? Nothing much after all, they believed, and because of that belief, struggled to live their lives with heroic virtue, eschewed the pleasures and mindsets of this world and lived out their lives completely as Christ desired. Oh, and did I mention, that they also attained eternal salvation and happiness in heaven, through their great love for Christ, which they expressed in every aspect of their lives?
Wait, you say, but are you implying that heaven is not easy to get to? Well, yes.
I’m sure you’ve all read John 3:16, ‘For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.’ But, what does it mean to believe?
In the gospels (and I looked all of these up. You know how Catholics don’t memorise the bible right?), Christ says to believe in him you must ‘sell what thou hast, and give to the poor… and come, follow me’ (Matt 19:21), meaning to give up all worldly possessions and ideals, and give oneself completely to Christ. He also said that you must feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take in the stranger, cloth the naked and visit the sick and imprisoned, for what you do to ‘these my least of brethren, you [do] it to me.’(Matt 25:45). And, he further says, ‘I am the bread of life which came down from heaven. If any man eats of this bread, he shall live forever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world…He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up on the last day.’ (John 6:51-52, 55).
Sounds like believing is a tough call isn’t it? This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. The gospels have many more requests of Christ to his believers. To follow Christ completely, is certainly to be set apart from the rest and to be holy. It is also a challenging and arduous path.
I, for one, though I am believer, I am nowhere near even coming within one million kilometres of the holiness that a Saint has. I am so arrogant, so proud, and so impatient, so attached to my worldly possessions and pleasures of the flesh. I mean, seriously! Just look at what some of these guys have done! St Dominic, born to wealthy and honourable parents, gave up everything to live in poverty and to spend the rest of his days preaching about Christ, started the Order of Preachers. Ss Cosmas and Damian, twin physicians and surgeons, charged not a penny for their services, survived crucifixion, stoning and being shot by arrows before being martyred by the sword. Bl. Teresa of Calcutta, gave up everything to be a nun, then gave up even more to go to Calcutta to live amongst the poorest of the poor and to love them. St Edith Stein, German jewish convert, philosopher, and nun who openly criticised Nazism, and was gassed for it.
Yet, even then, they were still unworthy to go to heaven (no one is worthy after all. One enters heaven solely, by the grace of God). And yet, these lot made it. They completed the feat that Christ said was harder than making a camel pass through the eye of a needle. They recognised, realised and actualised the true meaning of life, to love, know and serve God in this temporal life and to be reunited with Him forever in the next. And, they did all of it, not for themselves, but for God, who then deigned to take them in his kingdom. For that they truly deserve the title of Saint, which comes from the Latin, sanctus, meaning holy.
How can I even compare with them? But, hey! You know what? Remember, they’re just ordinary people like you and I…that means….if they can do it…so can I! So, that got me thinking, if I wanted to go to heaven, who would be the best person to model myself on? Hmmm…I’d choose someone who has probably done it all before, someone with good virtues. A real stand up fellow. One that I wouldn’t mind hanging pictures off in my room to remind me of their great example or someone that I could turn to for help when going through similar problems. Someone who has already made it to heaven.
Oh, I know! I’ll choose a Saint! They led lives of heroic virtue, didn’t they? They fully confessed Christ as their God, creator and saviour right? They went through the same struggles with sin and concupiscence that I go through, didn’t they? And, they’re also in heaven aren’t they? Hey, isn’t that a great idea? And since the Saints are still part of my celestial family, when I need help, I can ask them to pray to God for me! They could be my role models, my heroes! This is too good an idea to keep to myself! The Church should make them heroes and role models for everyone!
Oh wait. She already has.
Sancti et Sanctae in caelo, ora pro nobis!
PS: I’m not going to touch on the worshipping thing. Any good protestant worth his salt should know that when you revere, admire and respect one of God’s creations for the beauty and glory that God has given to them, you give glory and praise to God, the creator. After all, which parent doesn’t bask in the achievements of their children, and can’t wait to boast about them to others? Which teacher doesn’t feel great when she finds out her students scored distinctions? At the end of the day, it’s all for the Glory of God.
'Paul and Timothy, the servants of Jesus Christ: to all the saints in Christ Jesus who are at Philippi, with the bishops and deacons.' - Phil 1:1
So it was then explained that meaning of the word saint, apart from meaning, holy or 'set apart', was in referral to the Church at Philippi. Then, it was further explained that the word saint could actually be applied to everyone in the room. All that was needed to be one a saint was the belief in Christ, and that's why those people who are remembered on special days are called saints, for their belief. It was further admonished that that was why they weren't any more special than the ordinary Joe and thus don't need to be placed on a pedestal and revered. In fact, it was said, some people get carried away and hold them with such high regard and status, treating them as great people and some denominations even worship them.
Call me Catholic, but alarm bells were going off in my neuro-OS as though the Saracens were trying to invade Constantinople again. I could feel my blood heating up. Then, I thought for a second, and I realised that you know what? By golly gosh, he's right!
The Saints were ordinary people. They were just like us, 206 bones, two eyes, one mouth, two ears, hair, one nose. They came from all walks of life. Some were peasants, farmers and extremely poor, others were emperors, royalty and aristocrats. Some were geniuses and redefined philosophy as you know it, others were very simply minded or had mental problems. Some were physicians, scientists and lawyers, others were artists, simple folk, maidens. Some were married and started families and parented children, others married Christ, and devoted their lives to prayer, meditation and parenting His flock. Some confessed Christ and were brutally murdered for his name, other's confessed Him and lived long lives in a testament to His name. At the centre of it all, is their ardent belief in one Jesus Christ, the God who became man, lived amongst man, and sacrificed Himself to save man.
So, these saints, they were really just ordinary people, much like ourselves, who believed in Christ. If that's true, than what makes them so special? Nothing much after all, they believed, and because of that belief, struggled to live their lives with heroic virtue, eschewed the pleasures and mindsets of this world and lived out their lives completely as Christ desired. Oh, and did I mention, that they also attained eternal salvation and happiness in heaven, through their great love for Christ, which they expressed in every aspect of their lives?
Wait, you say, but are you implying that heaven is not easy to get to? Well, yes.
I’m sure you’ve all read John 3:16, ‘For God so loved the world, as to give his only begotten Son; that whosoever believeth in him may not perish, but may have life everlasting.’ But, what does it mean to believe?
In the gospels (and I looked all of these up. You know how Catholics don’t memorise the bible right?), Christ says to believe in him you must ‘sell what thou hast, and give to the poor… and come, follow me’ (Matt 19:21), meaning to give up all worldly possessions and ideals, and give oneself completely to Christ. He also said that you must feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, take in the stranger, cloth the naked and visit the sick and imprisoned, for what you do to ‘these my least of brethren, you [do] it to me.’(Matt 25:45). And, he further says, ‘I am the bread of life which came down from heaven. If any man eats of this bread, he shall live forever: and the bread that I will give is my flesh, for the life of the world…He that eateth my flesh and drinketh my blood hath everlasting life: and I will raise him up on the last day.’ (John 6:51-52, 55).
Sounds like believing is a tough call isn’t it? This doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface. The gospels have many more requests of Christ to his believers. To follow Christ completely, is certainly to be set apart from the rest and to be holy. It is also a challenging and arduous path.
I, for one, though I am believer, I am nowhere near even coming within one million kilometres of the holiness that a Saint has. I am so arrogant, so proud, and so impatient, so attached to my worldly possessions and pleasures of the flesh. I mean, seriously! Just look at what some of these guys have done! St Dominic, born to wealthy and honourable parents, gave up everything to live in poverty and to spend the rest of his days preaching about Christ, started the Order of Preachers. Ss Cosmas and Damian, twin physicians and surgeons, charged not a penny for their services, survived crucifixion, stoning and being shot by arrows before being martyred by the sword. Bl. Teresa of Calcutta, gave up everything to be a nun, then gave up even more to go to Calcutta to live amongst the poorest of the poor and to love them. St Edith Stein, German jewish convert, philosopher, and nun who openly criticised Nazism, and was gassed for it.
Yet, even then, they were still unworthy to go to heaven (no one is worthy after all. One enters heaven solely, by the grace of God). And yet, these lot made it. They completed the feat that Christ said was harder than making a camel pass through the eye of a needle. They recognised, realised and actualised the true meaning of life, to love, know and serve God in this temporal life and to be reunited with Him forever in the next. And, they did all of it, not for themselves, but for God, who then deigned to take them in his kingdom. For that they truly deserve the title of Saint, which comes from the Latin, sanctus, meaning holy.
How can I even compare with them? But, hey! You know what? Remember, they’re just ordinary people like you and I…that means….if they can do it…so can I! So, that got me thinking, if I wanted to go to heaven, who would be the best person to model myself on? Hmmm…I’d choose someone who has probably done it all before, someone with good virtues. A real stand up fellow. One that I wouldn’t mind hanging pictures off in my room to remind me of their great example or someone that I could turn to for help when going through similar problems. Someone who has already made it to heaven.
Oh, I know! I’ll choose a Saint! They led lives of heroic virtue, didn’t they? They fully confessed Christ as their God, creator and saviour right? They went through the same struggles with sin and concupiscence that I go through, didn’t they? And, they’re also in heaven aren’t they? Hey, isn’t that a great idea? And since the Saints are still part of my celestial family, when I need help, I can ask them to pray to God for me! They could be my role models, my heroes! This is too good an idea to keep to myself! The Church should make them heroes and role models for everyone!
Oh wait. She already has.
Sancti et Sanctae in caelo, ora pro nobis!
PS: I’m not going to touch on the worshipping thing. Any good protestant worth his salt should know that when you revere, admire and respect one of God’s creations for the beauty and glory that God has given to them, you give glory and praise to God, the creator. After all, which parent doesn’t bask in the achievements of their children, and can’t wait to boast about them to others? Which teacher doesn’t feel great when she finds out her students scored distinctions? At the end of the day, it’s all for the Glory of God.
Our Lady, the greatest Saint of them all. Without her obedience, and humility. Without her love for God, without her 'yes', we would not have the Saviour of the World. Thank God, she's our mother too, and watches out for us as her children from heaven.
Tuesday, October 04, 2011
Feisty.
BEATRICE I wonder that you will still be talking, Signor Benedick; nobody marks you.
BENEDICK What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
BENEDICK What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?
BEATRICE Is it possible that disdain should die while she hath such meet food to feed it as Signor Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her prescence.
BENEDICK Then is Courtesy herself a turncoat. But it is certain I am loved by all ladies, only you excepted. And I would I could find it in my heart that I had not a hard heart, for truly I love none.
BEATRICE A dear happiness to women. They would else been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God and my cold blood I am of your humour for that. I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow than hear a man swear he loves me.
BENEDICK God keep your ladyship still in that mind. So some gentleman or other shall scape a predistinate scratched face.
BEATRICE Scratching could not make it worse an 'twere such a face as yours were.
BENEDICK Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
BEATRICE A bird of my tongue is better than a beast of yours.
BENEDICK I would hold my horse had the speed of your tongue, and so good a continuer. But keep your way, o' God's name. I have done.
BEATRICE You always end with a Jade's trick. I know you of old.
Monday, September 19, 2011
Beatrice.
BEATRICE
Lewis Carroll
In her eyes is the living light
Of a wanderer to earth
From a far celestial height:
Summers five are all the span --
Summers five since Time began
To veil in mists of human night
A shining angel-birth.
Does an angel look from her eyes?
Will she suddenly spring away,
And soar to her home in the skies?
And soar to her home in the skies?
Beatrice! Blessing and blessed to be!
Beatrice! Still, as I gaze on thee,
Visions of two sweet maids arise,
Whose life was of yesterday:
Of a Beatrice pale and stern,
With the lips of a dumb despair,
With the lips of a dumb despair,
With the innocent eyes that yearn
Yearn for the young sweet hours of life,
Yearn for the young sweet hours of life,
Far from sorrow and far from strife,
For the happy summers, that never return,
When the world seemed good and fair:
Of a Beatrice glorious, bright
Of a sainted, ethereal maid,
Whose blue eyes are deep fountains of light,
Cheering the poet that broodeth apart,
Filling with gladness his desolate heart,
Like the moon when she shines thro’ a cloudless night
On a world of silence and shade.
And the visions waver and faint,
And the visions vanish away That
my fancy delighted to paint
my fancy delighted to paint
She is here at my side, a living child,
With the glowing cheek and the tresses wild,
With the glowing cheek and the tresses wild,
Nor death-pale martyr, nor radiant saint,
Yet stainless and bright as they.
For I think, if a grim wild beast
Were to come from his charnel-cave,
From his jungle-home in the East
Stealthily creeping with bated breath,
Stealthily creeping with eyes of death
He would all forget his dream of the feast,
And crouch at her feet a slave.
She would twine her hand in his mane:
She would twine her hand in his mane:
She would prattle in silvery tone,
Like the tinkle of summer-rain
Questioning him with her laughing eyes,
Questioning him with a glad surprise,
Till she caught from those fierce eyes again
The love that lit her own.
And be sure, if a savage heart,
In a mask of human guise,
Were to come on her here apart
Bound for a dark and a deadly deed,
Hurrying past with pitiless speed
Hurrying past with pitiless speed
He would suddenly falter and guiltily start
At the glance of her pure blue eyes.
Nay, be sure, if an angel fair,
A bright seraph undefiled,
Were to stoop from the trackless air,
Fain would she linger in glad amaze
Lovingly linger to ponder and gaze,
With a sister’s love and a sister’s care,
On the happy, innocent child.
Dec. 4, 1862.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Youth Mass
After assisting at Holy Mass yesterday, while standing outside the Church of Our Lady of Lourdes talking to friends, I kept overhearing the things the old uncles and aunties were saying. There must have been some confusion. They must have been, because they were surprised and shocked and saying things like, ‘wah! This one Youth Mass ah? So many young people!’
The concept of seeing so many young people assisting at Holy Mass must have been quite alien to them. There were no drums, no electric guitars, and no modern hymns with saccharinely sappy lyrics. Heck! There was hardly any English at all! The Mass was a missa cantata celebrated in the Extraördinary Form, also known as the Tridentine Rite, the pre-Vatican II mass. It was almost entirely in Latin, save for the homily, complete with heavenly Gregorian chant and polyphonic motets. A Mass where the priest faces the altar, says prayers quietly and the altar servers are decked out in über cool black cassocks and surplices.
Yet, the youth had come from all over the island to attend this Mass for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross and to venerate a relic of the True Cross, from the very same cross that once hung the Saviour of the World himself. It was truly a Youth Mass. The youth organized it, they served at the altar, they sang in the choir, and they assisted devoutly in appropriate dress, chanting the responses, kneeling, bowing their heads and crossing themselves.
To the older generation, who were mostly from the parish and had come to see the Extraördinary Form(EF) for the first time, it must have been truly a sight to behold for them. For those who regularly attend the EF, it is a very regular sight to see.
My dear reader, you see, for years, they were taught that the youth have to be engaged and in order to do so, they must organise Masses specially for them, with music that they could connect with or relate to. The older hymns were not suitable, Gregorian chant was beyond them, they wouldn’t like a Mass in Latin. Yet, here they were side by side with the youth!
So what brings the deluge of the young to hear Latin Mass? Novelty might seem the suggested answer had the EF been a one off event, however there is a regular EF at the chapel of St Joseph’s Institute (International) on Thomson Road, every first and third Sunday of the month at four o’clock. Convenience doesn’t seem to be the answer either, since these youth regularly walk up the long slope of the school in the middle of nowhere in the hot Singaporean weather at a timing which is horrid for students. Any student will tell you that Sunday afternoon is prime time for some serious mugging. Transecting that afternoon for Mass in a far off place is certainly a lost of important studying time, regardless of how one manages their time.
If novelty and convenience are not the answers, then what is? Why are the young faithfully coming for Latin Mass? Perhaps, these young energetic faithful are searching for their Catholic identity. An identity which many of them do not really understand after having been brought up with decades of Masses which pander to them and Churches that seem to be more protestant than Catholic. They want to sit in a Church and catch a glimpse of heaven as their eyes trace the gothic arches and the high altar up into the high ceiling of the sacred architecture. They want to hear music that lifts them up in to those heavens and a chance to taste the mystery of God. When one attends an EF Mass, it is immediately distinctly Catholic.
Perhaps they decided that instead of going to Mass that was celebrated in a fashion whereby God is brought to them, they chose to go to God instead, even though that means not knowing exactly what is going on, where they have to come of their comfort zones, and seek a silence where they can pray.
There could be so many reasons to rationalise this phenomenon, however one thing is sure. If you assist at a EF Mass regularly, you will learn to appreciate the Ordinary Form of the Mass much more. What’s more, you will soon find your spiritual life changing. Just ask any of the youth! You know where to find them.
The concept of seeing so many young people assisting at Holy Mass must have been quite alien to them. There were no drums, no electric guitars, and no modern hymns with saccharinely sappy lyrics. Heck! There was hardly any English at all! The Mass was a missa cantata celebrated in the Extraördinary Form, also known as the Tridentine Rite, the pre-Vatican II mass. It was almost entirely in Latin, save for the homily, complete with heavenly Gregorian chant and polyphonic motets. A Mass where the priest faces the altar, says prayers quietly and the altar servers are decked out in über cool black cassocks and surplices.
Yet, the youth had come from all over the island to attend this Mass for the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross and to venerate a relic of the True Cross, from the very same cross that once hung the Saviour of the World himself. It was truly a Youth Mass. The youth organized it, they served at the altar, they sang in the choir, and they assisted devoutly in appropriate dress, chanting the responses, kneeling, bowing their heads and crossing themselves.
To the older generation, who were mostly from the parish and had come to see the Extraördinary Form(EF) for the first time, it must have been truly a sight to behold for them. For those who regularly attend the EF, it is a very regular sight to see.
My dear reader, you see, for years, they were taught that the youth have to be engaged and in order to do so, they must organise Masses specially for them, with music that they could connect with or relate to. The older hymns were not suitable, Gregorian chant was beyond them, they wouldn’t like a Mass in Latin. Yet, here they were side by side with the youth!
So what brings the deluge of the young to hear Latin Mass? Novelty might seem the suggested answer had the EF been a one off event, however there is a regular EF at the chapel of St Joseph’s Institute (International) on Thomson Road, every first and third Sunday of the month at four o’clock. Convenience doesn’t seem to be the answer either, since these youth regularly walk up the long slope of the school in the middle of nowhere in the hot Singaporean weather at a timing which is horrid for students. Any student will tell you that Sunday afternoon is prime time for some serious mugging. Transecting that afternoon for Mass in a far off place is certainly a lost of important studying time, regardless of how one manages their time.
If novelty and convenience are not the answers, then what is? Why are the young faithfully coming for Latin Mass? Perhaps, these young energetic faithful are searching for their Catholic identity. An identity which many of them do not really understand after having been brought up with decades of Masses which pander to them and Churches that seem to be more protestant than Catholic. They want to sit in a Church and catch a glimpse of heaven as their eyes trace the gothic arches and the high altar up into the high ceiling of the sacred architecture. They want to hear music that lifts them up in to those heavens and a chance to taste the mystery of God. When one attends an EF Mass, it is immediately distinctly Catholic.
Perhaps they decided that instead of going to Mass that was celebrated in a fashion whereby God is brought to them, they chose to go to God instead, even though that means not knowing exactly what is going on, where they have to come of their comfort zones, and seek a silence where they can pray.
There could be so many reasons to rationalise this phenomenon, however one thing is sure. If you assist at a EF Mass regularly, you will learn to appreciate the Ordinary Form of the Mass much more. What’s more, you will soon find your spiritual life changing. Just ask any of the youth! You know where to find them.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Please Stop Attending Mass.
Recently, I was reading a book called, ‘The Hidden Treasure: The Holy Mass’ by St Leonard of Port Maurice. It was a very good read which extoled upon the greatness and goodness of assisting at the Holy Mass, especially daily, and I recommend that everyone should get a copy and read it, it is short and easy to peruse and is certainly for everyone.
Now, perhaps you may be confused as to why I say that a book, which explores the graces of assisting at the Holy Sacrifice, is a book for everyone though not everyone helps out at Mass unless one is an altar server, a chorister, or the celebrant himself. I’m just a normal average Joe, you say, I just attend Mass like everyone else, what good is it to me?
Ah. That is where you are misconstrued, my dear reader. It is actually you who are assisting at Holy Mass. Yes. That is right, you are the one who assists at Holy Mass. But, how can this be, you inquire, I do not do anything, I merely sit in the pew, trying to pay attention. I can’t really sing because the songs are so heavily syncopated and don’t even sound nice. That is where you are most gravely wrong. Anyone who hears the Holy Mass, has the potential to assist at it.
Perhaps, we might take a look at why you feel that you do not assist at the Holy Mass. For the past four decades, we have firstly seen a dramatic shift in our vocabulary regarding the Holy Mass, and our liturgy. We have been told to ‘attend’ Mass, whereas when one was in Church to ‘hear’ the Holy Mass, one was also expected to ‘assist’ at it. St Leonard’s book is strewn with phrases such as those aforementioned, so is the Baltimore Catechism. However, we have only been thought to attend Mass. No wonder there is great confusion with what is truly required of us at the most Holy Sacrifice!
How should we then participate in at Mass? Let us turn to the Baltimore Catechism and have a look.
Q946. How should we assist at Mass?
A. We should assist at Mass with great interior recollection and piety and with every outward mark of respect and devotion.
Thus, while the servers, choristers and the celebrant have the special privilege of assisting externally at the Holy Sacrifice, you, who are sitting devoutly in the pew, in modest dress, are to assist as well. It is about an interior assistance as opposed to an external one. It means that we need not know the responses or possess the capability to sing the propers or ordinaries of the Mass, we only need to be pious with our prayers and offer up our intentions during the Mass.
So what is the difference between merely attending and assisting at Mass? In the first place, the connotations of the words are very different. To ‘attend’ merely implies to one’s mere presence at the event, while to ‘assist’ implies the necessity of helping out and being part of the event. Francis Cardinal Arinze, the Cardinal Prefect Emeritus of the Congregation for Divine Workship and Discipline of the Sacraments, the Congregation in Rome dealing with how Mass is to be said and how the Sacraments are administered, says that we can prepare for Mass by not only reading the readings beforehand, but by reading the opening, offertory and communion prayers as well as the various antiphons. He also describes the need to pray and ask God to allow one to receive communion. These pre-communion prayers are very necessary to remind ourselves of the great gift that we are to receive.
What’s more another priest once described that during the preparation of the gifts, we offer our own prayers and intentions into the chalice and raise it up to heaven. Also, during the consecration, it is said that largest amount of souls in purgatory are granted entry into heaven. Thus, it is during this time we should offer our prayers for the souls in purgatory.
There are so many things that we as the congregation need to do! To listen devoutly to the readings and the digest and meditate upon the words of the homily, to prayer for the Church, her people, the world and ourselves during the liturgy of the word. To meditate upon the beauty of the chanted antiphons and the words in the psalms they’re from. It amazes me that we even have time to sing along with the choir or to listen to the priest says his prayers on our behalf!
So it would be nice if you would stop attending Mass, my dear reader, and to humbly accept the office of the lay person and to interiorly devote yourself to Christ and his sacrifice as it unfolds before you. Also, do pick up St Leonard’s great book. I hope to see you assisting at Mass soon!
Now, perhaps you may be confused as to why I say that a book, which explores the graces of assisting at the Holy Sacrifice, is a book for everyone though not everyone helps out at Mass unless one is an altar server, a chorister, or the celebrant himself. I’m just a normal average Joe, you say, I just attend Mass like everyone else, what good is it to me?
Ah. That is where you are misconstrued, my dear reader. It is actually you who are assisting at Holy Mass. Yes. That is right, you are the one who assists at Holy Mass. But, how can this be, you inquire, I do not do anything, I merely sit in the pew, trying to pay attention. I can’t really sing because the songs are so heavily syncopated and don’t even sound nice. That is where you are most gravely wrong. Anyone who hears the Holy Mass, has the potential to assist at it.
Perhaps, we might take a look at why you feel that you do not assist at the Holy Mass. For the past four decades, we have firstly seen a dramatic shift in our vocabulary regarding the Holy Mass, and our liturgy. We have been told to ‘attend’ Mass, whereas when one was in Church to ‘hear’ the Holy Mass, one was also expected to ‘assist’ at it. St Leonard’s book is strewn with phrases such as those aforementioned, so is the Baltimore Catechism. However, we have only been thought to attend Mass. No wonder there is great confusion with what is truly required of us at the most Holy Sacrifice!
How should we then participate in at Mass? Let us turn to the Baltimore Catechism and have a look.
Q946. How should we assist at Mass?
A. We should assist at Mass with great interior recollection and piety and with every outward mark of respect and devotion.
Thus, while the servers, choristers and the celebrant have the special privilege of assisting externally at the Holy Sacrifice, you, who are sitting devoutly in the pew, in modest dress, are to assist as well. It is about an interior assistance as opposed to an external one. It means that we need not know the responses or possess the capability to sing the propers or ordinaries of the Mass, we only need to be pious with our prayers and offer up our intentions during the Mass.
So what is the difference between merely attending and assisting at Mass? In the first place, the connotations of the words are very different. To ‘attend’ merely implies to one’s mere presence at the event, while to ‘assist’ implies the necessity of helping out and being part of the event. Francis Cardinal Arinze, the Cardinal Prefect Emeritus of the Congregation for Divine Workship and Discipline of the Sacraments, the Congregation in Rome dealing with how Mass is to be said and how the Sacraments are administered, says that we can prepare for Mass by not only reading the readings beforehand, but by reading the opening, offertory and communion prayers as well as the various antiphons. He also describes the need to pray and ask God to allow one to receive communion. These pre-communion prayers are very necessary to remind ourselves of the great gift that we are to receive.
What’s more another priest once described that during the preparation of the gifts, we offer our own prayers and intentions into the chalice and raise it up to heaven. Also, during the consecration, it is said that largest amount of souls in purgatory are granted entry into heaven. Thus, it is during this time we should offer our prayers for the souls in purgatory.
There are so many things that we as the congregation need to do! To listen devoutly to the readings and the digest and meditate upon the words of the homily, to prayer for the Church, her people, the world and ourselves during the liturgy of the word. To meditate upon the beauty of the chanted antiphons and the words in the psalms they’re from. It amazes me that we even have time to sing along with the choir or to listen to the priest says his prayers on our behalf!
So it would be nice if you would stop attending Mass, my dear reader, and to humbly accept the office of the lay person and to interiorly devote yourself to Christ and his sacrifice as it unfolds before you. Also, do pick up St Leonard’s great book. I hope to see you assisting at Mass soon!
Friday, September 09, 2011
Studying For Souls
Some of us have exams nearing. And, as any of us normal students know, studying can be a difficult process marked with stress, frustrations, book-throwings, page-tearings, crying and other sorts of sufferings and sacrifices.
Also, you may know that there are many souls in purgatory. If you didn't, you do now. And suffering can be offered up as penance for the souls in purgatory. And since studying can have suffering, perhaps you may wish to offer up your academic sufferings for the holy souls in purgatory.
That way your studying won't go to waste (it won't either way but it feels that way sometimes). :)
If you think this is a good idea, you may wish to write down this prayer and keep it in your pencil case or file or book, and say it before you commence the daily mugging.
Pray Before Studying
O Jesus, You who suffered and died upon the cross for my sins, and gave me the opportunity to learn of the knowledge you so wonderfully created, bless me today as I carry out this vocation and to give you glory in all I do. I also wish to offer you, through the Immaculate Heart of Mary, the sufferings that I endure through the course of my studying today for the intentions of the souls in purgatory. And, I ask that You and our Blessed Mother, through the prayers of all the patrons of students, especially St Joseph Cupertino, St Gregory Wonderworker and St Thomas Aquinas, to watch over me in my studies and my examinations. Amen
God bless!
PS: in desperate circumstances, St Jude is the patron saint of desperate cases.
PPS: I have started a facebook event for this, you can find it here. Please do show your support by attending and checking in with your progress from time to time!
Monday, September 05, 2011
The Diner.
This was for a writing competition.
Sheets of rain splashed onto the windscreen as I tore down the viaduct. I didn’t really care where I was going, I was just racing across from expressway to expressway trying to get some control on what my mind was spinning at me. There was just something about this city, with its tall ominous buildings that just seemed to mock your existence. Thunder erupted and an eighteen-wheeler sped past in the other lane, momentarily blinding me with a deluge of water from its tyres. God, I could use a smoke. I haven’t had one for nine months but I promised a friend in a collar that I’d quit once and for all. I don’t actually like smoking, it makes your fingers smell and ruins your sense of taste. The only redeeming feature was the quick escape it provides from life and the romantic notion of watching the smoke drift up into the sky as it leaves your mouth. Maybe it’s a writers’ thing, maybe I just wanted to get away from my sordid life. I had driven aimlessly for four hours now, it was about two in the morning and I was hungry. So, I floored the accelerated and pulled the old mustang into the first exit. The tyres skidded on the slippery road and left sprays of dirty water in their wake. I drove a few more miles and finally spotted the familiar diner.
The diner had opened there when I was a kid, a long time ago back in the day. It was one those grease joints that opened at all hours, where the burgers had enough oil in them to start a war. My family lived around the block, so we used to step in regularly to clog our arteries. Now, the place looked pretty rundown and more oleaginous than ever. I wondered when was the last time any health inspector surveyed the place, then I realised I hadn’t been in this neighbourhood for nearly a decade. Too many memories, and as I stepped in, they all flooded back. Old man Johnson used to run the place, left it to his kids who sold it on condition the menu was retained. The place has traded hands several times since then, each time on the same condition that the menu is kept the same. Don’t know who runs it now.
A young waitress greeted me with all the enthusiasm of a sea slug and began to chant out the specials while throwing the menu at me. I ordered the oiliest cheeseburger on the menu and a coffee. Ms Hospitality ran off to inform the greasy eyed fry cook behind the counter. It was really quiet in the diner. Looking around, I realised I was the only customer here. Somewhere in the background, a jukebox was playing some of the latest hits and I began to wonder what in hell I was doing with my life. I was going through one of those periods where one suffers the full blunt of life’s vicissitudes. The sort one sits up into the night nursing a bottle of Jack comparing what one has inadequately achieved to the overachievers he calls friends, wallowing like a baby in self pity as he wonders amidst the crushing loneliness what he was going to do with the rest of his miserable life. You know the sort: in between jobs, or girlfriends or dogs. The kind of depression you just want to blame God for until you realise it’s probably your fault and then you wish He’d never created you. Outside, the tempest continued to howl.
My food had finally arrived. The coffee tasted gray, but the burger was decent. I was in a mood for something greasy anyway. I had just taken a second bite when she threw open the doors of the diner and nearly brought in half of the storm with her. She was a pretty thing, about my age with a sweet smile. She seemed to fill the place with colour as she walked in. The walls magically seemed to regain their original lustre from decades ago. The waitress, too, underwent some metamorphosis before my eyes and cheerfully greeted her. Perhaps, it was something that she wore in her soul. Perhaps, she may have just been a regular, since the waitress and her stopped exchanging pleasantries and started to exchange the gossip of their lives. After the waitress promised to bring her ‘the usual’, she came and sat down in the table next to mine. One can’t help being drawn to such people I guess, so I turned and said ‘hello’. She ‘hello’-ed me back with a sweet sweet smile and before long she was sharing my booth and we were chatting away like old friends.
Her name was Melissa, she worked in a hospital somewhere, just got off her shift. Turns out, we shared a lot in common. She grew up in this neighbourhood, on the other side of the huge dual carriageway. We had the same childhood parish, but my parents had lost their piety. I couldn’t believe that we’d never bumped into each other in the past. I told her I could have never forgotten a pretty face like hers and it was a pretty face. I teased her about her eye bags, which were like crescent moons holding up her eyes, she said she got them from her mum. She teased me about my scruffy writer’s stubble and attempts at keeping fashionable hair. We talked a bit of politics, and the weather and the arts. We talked about importance of chastity amidst the fall of a decadent promiscuous society. We talked about music. She told me about her bad day at work, and I was amazed at her determined cheerfulness. I told her about my lack of progress with my book and my attempt to escape this dreary city in a month. We lamented about it, and chatted some more. I suppose that is the human condition, to be lonely and tired in life, searching for, yearning for some companionship in the hope of affirming one’s own existence.
We talked for two hours and then she refused to let me make the two-hour drive home and offered me her couch instead. It was a just a block away and I could leave the car at the diner. I held her hand as we walked back down the cold, slippery streets toward her flat. The smell of wet grass wafted through the air.
Sheets of rain splashed onto the windscreen as I tore down the viaduct. I didn’t really care where I was going, I was just racing across from expressway to expressway trying to get some control on what my mind was spinning at me. There was just something about this city, with its tall ominous buildings that just seemed to mock your existence. Thunder erupted and an eighteen-wheeler sped past in the other lane, momentarily blinding me with a deluge of water from its tyres. God, I could use a smoke. I haven’t had one for nine months but I promised a friend in a collar that I’d quit once and for all. I don’t actually like smoking, it makes your fingers smell and ruins your sense of taste. The only redeeming feature was the quick escape it provides from life and the romantic notion of watching the smoke drift up into the sky as it leaves your mouth. Maybe it’s a writers’ thing, maybe I just wanted to get away from my sordid life. I had driven aimlessly for four hours now, it was about two in the morning and I was hungry. So, I floored the accelerated and pulled the old mustang into the first exit. The tyres skidded on the slippery road and left sprays of dirty water in their wake. I drove a few more miles and finally spotted the familiar diner.
The diner had opened there when I was a kid, a long time ago back in the day. It was one those grease joints that opened at all hours, where the burgers had enough oil in them to start a war. My family lived around the block, so we used to step in regularly to clog our arteries. Now, the place looked pretty rundown and more oleaginous than ever. I wondered when was the last time any health inspector surveyed the place, then I realised I hadn’t been in this neighbourhood for nearly a decade. Too many memories, and as I stepped in, they all flooded back. Old man Johnson used to run the place, left it to his kids who sold it on condition the menu was retained. The place has traded hands several times since then, each time on the same condition that the menu is kept the same. Don’t know who runs it now.
A young waitress greeted me with all the enthusiasm of a sea slug and began to chant out the specials while throwing the menu at me. I ordered the oiliest cheeseburger on the menu and a coffee. Ms Hospitality ran off to inform the greasy eyed fry cook behind the counter. It was really quiet in the diner. Looking around, I realised I was the only customer here. Somewhere in the background, a jukebox was playing some of the latest hits and I began to wonder what in hell I was doing with my life. I was going through one of those periods where one suffers the full blunt of life’s vicissitudes. The sort one sits up into the night nursing a bottle of Jack comparing what one has inadequately achieved to the overachievers he calls friends, wallowing like a baby in self pity as he wonders amidst the crushing loneliness what he was going to do with the rest of his miserable life. You know the sort: in between jobs, or girlfriends or dogs. The kind of depression you just want to blame God for until you realise it’s probably your fault and then you wish He’d never created you. Outside, the tempest continued to howl.
My food had finally arrived. The coffee tasted gray, but the burger was decent. I was in a mood for something greasy anyway. I had just taken a second bite when she threw open the doors of the diner and nearly brought in half of the storm with her. She was a pretty thing, about my age with a sweet smile. She seemed to fill the place with colour as she walked in. The walls magically seemed to regain their original lustre from decades ago. The waitress, too, underwent some metamorphosis before my eyes and cheerfully greeted her. Perhaps, it was something that she wore in her soul. Perhaps, she may have just been a regular, since the waitress and her stopped exchanging pleasantries and started to exchange the gossip of their lives. After the waitress promised to bring her ‘the usual’, she came and sat down in the table next to mine. One can’t help being drawn to such people I guess, so I turned and said ‘hello’. She ‘hello’-ed me back with a sweet sweet smile and before long she was sharing my booth and we were chatting away like old friends.
Her name was Melissa, she worked in a hospital somewhere, just got off her shift. Turns out, we shared a lot in common. She grew up in this neighbourhood, on the other side of the huge dual carriageway. We had the same childhood parish, but my parents had lost their piety. I couldn’t believe that we’d never bumped into each other in the past. I told her I could have never forgotten a pretty face like hers and it was a pretty face. I teased her about her eye bags, which were like crescent moons holding up her eyes, she said she got them from her mum. She teased me about my scruffy writer’s stubble and attempts at keeping fashionable hair. We talked a bit of politics, and the weather and the arts. We talked about importance of chastity amidst the fall of a decadent promiscuous society. We talked about music. She told me about her bad day at work, and I was amazed at her determined cheerfulness. I told her about my lack of progress with my book and my attempt to escape this dreary city in a month. We lamented about it, and chatted some more. I suppose that is the human condition, to be lonely and tired in life, searching for, yearning for some companionship in the hope of affirming one’s own existence.
We talked for two hours and then she refused to let me make the two-hour drive home and offered me her couch instead. It was a just a block away and I could leave the car at the diner. I held her hand as we walked back down the cold, slippery streets toward her flat. The smell of wet grass wafted through the air.
White Queen (revised)
White Queen
Everywhere I walk, you seem to build castle walls in my face.
High, looming towers across the black and white plains.
You hide there too, beautiful, up in the highest place
While your horses gallop past with their knighted lords,
seeking out many an enemy or some spritely foe,
with which to slay with their mighty swords,
Or perhaps, with cold stare and silent conversation.
So, I hide away here in the black tall grass
and watch you from so very far away.
Your smiles, and sorrows I long to share and grasp,
But your bishops say, 'no', with an excommunicating stare.
I have never understood those prelates of yours,
With their slanted thinking in black and white, of ill-gotten cause.
Their reach was frightening and they travelled very far,
so, I hid from them too, and stared out at you from castle walls.
It would seem that every step I take shall require much thought.
How strange, for I had only one quest:
to deliver you a flower with my heart on it's petalled breast.
O, how the crescent moon reminds me of you.
But I am a trained soldier, and so continue to seek,
through the monotone grasslands with my tarnished crown,
that my quest and Triumph shall soon meet.
(It seems such a foolish play on my part,
but alas, a stubborn fool I was born.
So, now in mud and forest I shall have to creep.)
I shall take my time to cross each square,
one
by
one.
Everywhere I walk, you seem to build castle walls in my face.
High, looming towers across the black and white plains.
You hide there too, beautiful, up in the highest place
While your horses gallop past with their knighted lords,
seeking out many an enemy or some spritely foe,
with which to slay with their mighty swords,
Or perhaps, with cold stare and silent conversation.
So, I hide away here in the black tall grass
and watch you from so very far away.
Your smiles, and sorrows I long to share and grasp,
But your bishops say, 'no', with an excommunicating stare.
I have never understood those prelates of yours,
With their slanted thinking in black and white, of ill-gotten cause.
Their reach was frightening and they travelled very far,
so, I hid from them too, and stared out at you from castle walls.
It would seem that every step I take shall require much thought.
How strange, for I had only one quest:
to deliver you a flower with my heart on it's petalled breast.
O, how the crescent moon reminds me of you.
But I am a trained soldier, and so continue to seek,
through the monotone grasslands with my tarnished crown,
that my quest and Triumph shall soon meet.
(It seems such a foolish play on my part,
but alas, a stubborn fool I was born.
So, now in mud and forest I shall have to creep.)
I shall take my time to cross each square,
one
by
one.
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