Pins of Light:Scattered hints to provoke thought and talk about God...
This bible blog was launched for Advent 2007, and began as a daily reflection on scriptural readings until Easter of 2008. Since every reflection posed a question to God, this initial portion of Pins of Light is called Questions for God.
From March 2008 to December 2009, Pins of Light has featured a weekly reflection on the Sunday readings.
Since 2008, Advent and Lenten recollections have also been conducted on line.
In September 2010, this web site with its new look launches as the Sunday bible blogs resume. I hope you enjoy reading them and stumble into some hints about God's whereabouts.
Today's Readings In today's Gospel reading, the Lord talks about collapsing houses due to shaky foundations. He is, of course, teaching us that more than anything else, the strongest foundation we can find to build our lives on is following God's Will and doing good.
It's a timely reminder since it is so much more fashionable today to build our lives on things that are less solid. Wherever we turn today--the TV, the billboards, the Internet--all we hear are voices that prod us to spend our lives in pursuit of fame, fortune, and power. But as we realize whenever someone dies, these are things people can't take with them. Fame, fortune, and power can be so tantalizing and addictive that many people end up building their lives and shaping themselves based on these. But in the wakes that I visit, people never talk about how much money someone has made, or how well known that someone is, or how much authority the person wielded. Rather, they recall people's kindness, their good deeds, and especially their love for others.
Indeed as the Lord says, to define one's life based on things other than these is like building a house on shaky foundations. Once catastrophe strikes, the house collapses immediately.
Now, of course, with all this talk about rocks and sand, catastrophes and collapsing houses, one can't help but think about the recent powerful earthquake that shook up the Sichuan Province in China last May 12. The one remarkable thing about that catastrophe is the heroism that emerged from the tragedy. I'm talking about the unexpected droves of volunteers who marched or drove to the disaster area to offer whatever help they could offer. But I'm also talking about the victims who perished in the earthquake--victims who perished because they were saving lives.
I received a slideshow about the Sichuan earthquake, where I found anecdotes of the heroism shown by both volunteers and victims, and before I knew it, the images and stories were suddenly swimming in my tears.
Amidst the rubble of demolished homes and lives, the volunteers and victims of the Sichuan tragedy show us that by doing good----sometimes at the cost of their lives--we build our lives on much more solid foundations. As the slideshow says: "We will not forget you."
Here's a Quick Question for you: "If you were to assess your life using the metaphor that our Lord suggests, would you say that you are building your life on rock?"
You can't really blame the Pharisees in the gospel reading today. They see the Lord invite a corrupt tax collector to follow him. More than that, he dines with him and other sinners--a big "no-no" among the Jews. Like the Pharisees, we can't help but wonder why the Lord doesn't make better choices with regard to whom he chooses to be his follower and whom he breaks bread with.
Can’t the Lord find better people to be his instruments? Why choose people who are known to be corrupt and sinful? Can’t he find and hire better-qualified people?
If we examine the prophets and apostles that God has chosen in the bible and even in real life today, we will detect a disturbing pattern. Most of them, if not all of them, were either weak or broken. Think of David, the little shepherd boy before he became king. No army could beat Goliath, but this shepherd boy succeeded with his slingshot. Think of Mary, our Blessed Mother: Even if she was immaculately conceived—she was but a frail little twelve or thirteen year old girl when the angel appeared to her and extended to her God’s special invitation. And don't forget Abraham, who is extolled in the Second Reading as a man of righteousness: A little known story about him--a very unflattering one--has him lying about Sarah being his wife and practically offering her to the Pharoah just to save his own skin.
What does this tell us? I think God’s recruiting preferences can tell us a lot about how God works and about who He is. Our God is a God who doesn’t seem to like using instruments that are in perfect working condition. He seems to prefer broken instruments.
So the question is why. Why does God prefer broken instruments? Here are two guesses.
First, maybe weak and broken people are the only ones who are humble enough to allow God to use them. They’re the only ones who can truly become God’s instrument because they know their weaknesses and brokenness, so they know they need God and they depend on God. The Gospel’s term for this is “poor in spirit.” If we want to become God’s instrument, if we want God to use us to do his work, we must become poor in spirit, humble and aware of our need for God and consequently willing to allow ourselves to be used.
Secondly, maybe God prefers to use broken instruments because when he does, it becomes quite evident that when great works are accomplished, it is primarily because of God and not because of the person’s qualifications. In other words, it becomes clear that the person is simply an instrument that allows himself or herself to be used by God. So it does not become a case of us doing God’s work, but God himself working through us. There is a difference between the two.
So here's a Quick Question for you: Have you been using your limitations and sinfulness as an excuse not to serve the Lord? Maybe for some of us, every time the topic of serving God comes up, we say: “That’s not for me because I’m a sinner, or I’m weak, or I’m broken.” Bad news: As we have seen, God actually prefers to use broken instruments for his work.
Today's Readings It was probably the opening shot of One Republic's music video of their song, "Say (All I Need), that first caught my attention. It was unmistakably the Sacrecoeur Cathedral in Montmartre, Paris, with its signature immaculate facade.
I remember the very first time I found myself there over twenty years ago. I was a young seminarian sent to Paris, a member of a skeletal crew of four, on an assignment to film a religious documentary. Awed by the city's beauty, culture, and history, I was also fascinated to see mingled among the many tourists the city's residents--hopping into Metros, marching to work in their business suits, bread peeking out of their brief cases or tucked under their arms, or simply enjoying their breakfast at the sidewalk cafes.
Paris was--and will always be--the city of my 'could have been's.' As I wandered around the city in between filming, I also wondered about my life. I had entered the seminary five years earlier. I had given up a career not because I was sure about becoming a priest, but precisely because I was unsure and needed to find out.
"Once and for all!" I declared to myself--and to God.
But after five years of prayer and study, I was still unsure. And so that beautiful spring day in Paris, as I ascended the pigeon-scattered steps of Montmartre, with the cathedral looming over me, I was seized with a flood of emotions--the entire weird mix of it: the eagerness about the future but also its uncertainties, the hopefulness about my life as well as all my fears and anxieties. I still felt that initial desire, stronger than ever, to serve God, but at the same time, I was also haunted by the things I had given up and left behind. So there I was, grappling yet once again with the 'what if's' of my life. I didn't realize it then, but there was something almost symbolic about the scene as I stood there caught between the cathedral dedicated to the Sacred Heart above me and the glistening city of Paris below me.
Since then, after many years of stumbling and getting up, I've realized that the one single thing that one shouldn't do in this business of letting go of things is to give up on one's self. It turns out that God provides what we need as long as we don't give up on ourselves--and on him. And the best news of all? Surveying the past twenty years, I realize that--to my utter embarrassment, but also to my eternal gratitude--I've received so much more than I had given up. The Lord has kept his promise of the hundredfold.
Twenty years later, hearing One Republic's song, "Say (All I Need)" is like discovering an old, discarded letter I had written to myself years ago, but never got around to reading. Its emotions are strangely familiar, and its words capture--quite eerily--how I felt then. And as it does to me, it probably will also speak to others who seek to find God's Will even as they find themselves caught between the spiritual and the secular.
The song talks about that familiar pain of saying "No" to the things we have to give up. The pain can be so great because our needs can be so fierce. The whole process of letting go, in my experience, can be better described as a prying away.
"Bless my soul! You're a lonely soul 'cause you can't let go of anything you hold." That initial giving up and letting go hasn't stopped and continues to this day. At another point, the singer repeats the rhetorical question: "Do you think you can find it? Better than you had it?" I don't know about you, but if you ask me, the repeated urging sounds like the voice of a terribly stricken conscience.
But more than anything else, the song offers a word of encouragement to all those who are struggling to follow the Lord and to serve him--and not just for priests and nuns, but for all of us because we all of us have to do some letting go at some point in our lives.
Its advice to those who find it difficult and even painful to let go? Remember scripture--specifically, what the Lord says about the Son of Man having no place to rest his head--and like a desperate mantra, repeat it to yourself as often as needed: "Say, `All I need is the air I breathe, and a place to rest my head...'"
Today, Father's Day, our Lord reminds us to pray that God will send more laborers to the vineyard. Spend a couple of minutes praying for the laborers too.
Here's a Quick Question for you: "Is there something--or someone--in your life that the Lord may be asking you to give up or leave behind? Keep in mind that the Lord asks this of us only if that thing or person stands in the way of our loving God and serving others. Think about it, and if you feel up to it, share a thought, a feeling, or even a question.
Click play to watch One Republic's music video of "Say (All I Need)."
Do you know where your heart is? Do you think you can find it? Or did you trade it for something, somewhere, better just to have it? Do you know where your love is? Do you think that you lost it? You felt it so strong but nothing's, turned out how you want it
Well, bless my soul You're a lonely soul 'Cause you won't let go, of anything you hold "Well, all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head"
Do you know what your fate is? And now you're trying to shake it? You're doing your best dance,your best look You're praying that you'll make it
Well, bless my soul You're a lonely soul 'Cause you won't let go, of anything you hold "Well, all I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head Say ll I need is the air I breathe and a place to rest my head"
Do you think I can find it? Do you think you can find it? Do you think you can find it, better than you had it?
Do you think I can find it? Do you think you can find it? Do you think you can find it (yeah), better than you had it? (better than you had it?)
"Say all I need, is the air I breathe,and a place,to rest my head Say all I need, is the air I breathe,and a place,to rest my head"
Do you know where the end is? Do you think you can see it? Well, until you get there, go on, go ahead and scream it Just say...
The first line our Lord speaks to his disciples struck me: "Fear no one."
"Sure," I catch myself in mid-thought. "Easy for you to say."
Not so easy for the rest of us. We are no strangers to fear. We know what it’s like to be scared. It’s not a pleasant experience—unless you’re one of those people who get their kick out of screaming their lungs out during horror and slasher movies.
Since the Lord tells us not to be afraid three times in today's Gospel reading, I thought I'd spend some time asking myself about my greatest fears. What am I most afraid of anyway? And who am I most afraid of? Let me come up with my "I'm Afraid Of" list. It's not an easy list to make because the items can be quite revealing and embarrassing. Here they are (in no particular order):
1. I'm afraid of suffering, in general. Nobody wants to get sick, and nobody likes pain. I hate to admit it, but the thought of a painful and enduring illness scares the hell out of me.
2. I guess I'm really still afraid of death, especially a violent and painful death. Sometimes I catch myself wishing for a quick and painless death more than a Christian death! And whatever else we say we believe about salvation and eternal life, death still means the end of life as we know it, and I'm afraid of what may or may not come next.
3. I'm afraid of losing the people I love. The very idea breaks my heart. I dread the prospect of it, even if I know that loss is very much part of being human.
4. I'm afraid of what I don’t know, of the unfamiliar. Even the most adventurous and reckless among us still feel some hesitation about--or resistance to--things beyond our understanding and especially those beyond our control.
5. I'm afraid of failure, of trying my best and working hard, only to realize that nothing I've done really amounts to anything. I worry about waking up one day finding my life in ruins.
6. I've always been--and still am--afraid of rejection, of feeling unloved, of ending up friendless, especially those moments when I need friends the most. I'm also afraid of unpopularity, of a ruined reputation, of negative things that may haunt me for the rest of my life, especially because of how they can hurt the people who love me and care for me. 7. I'm afraid of bad luck, karma, misfortune. I'm not supposed to believe in feng shui and superstition--and in my best moments, I really don't, but when people whisper in hushed tones convinced that fate will turn against us if we don't do this or if we do that, I can't help but feel some kind of fear. I don't agree with them, but a part of me also understands why they feel the need to consult the so-called experts on almost every single thing that they do, like the way they marry off their children, the way they build their houses and arrange their furniture, even the way they bury their dead.
8. I'm afraid of people who seem evil and malicious. They have a logic I don't understand--this desire to hurt others just because! I'm not referring to people who are misled, driven by past hurts to lash back at others. These people need our compassion and help. No, I'm referring to people who seem to want to hurt people just because! I just don't get that--and I'm afraid of whatever it is that drives them to do the things they do.
9. Finally, I'm afraid of God even if I know he loves me. Blame it on Catholic guilt, but a part of me will always fear going to hell, and the heart of me is deathly afraid of being separated from God--forever!
Identifying our worst fears can be a valuable exercise because it can tell us about the things and the people that we value most. Our fears can teach us about what we hold most dear, the things and people hat we don’t want to lose.
Some say that to be afraid is to betray a lack of faith. If you’re scared, that means you don’t believe enough. I don't agree with that. Fear in itself is neither good nor bad. It's not a sin to be afraid; we are told that even our Lord, on the eve of his death, was afraid.
There's really nothing wrong with fear. In fact, fear is necessary for human survival. We need fear to help us escape some dangers. Fear can be a kind of deterrent to doing what is wrong, and a kind of incentive to doing what is right. In other words, our fears can pull us away from danger and push us to what is right. So when you think about it, our fears can actually be a very good thing.
What makes fear good or bad is what we do with it. For example, we cannot help but be afraid when confronted with danger. If our fear drives us to save ourselves—or as it has happened on many occasions, to save others as well, then thank God for fear because it is indeed a very good thing. But if on a similar occasion, our fear paralyzes us and keeps us from doing what is correct, and we end up hurting ourselves and others, then fear must be overcome at all costs. We must not be a slave to fear.
This is true even when applied to our daily choices: If our different fears become an obstacle to doing what is good and what is right, to helping others, then we must try our best to overcome them. For example, our fear of failure may paralyze us and keep us from doing our best.
It is also possible that our fear of being rejected may make us pretend to be somebody we’re not so we end up being inauthentic in our relationship.
Finally, our fears may also keep us away from God—as in the case of the sinner whose fear of God makes him feel so unworthy that he decides to keep his distance and not return to the Lord in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. Or, a person’s fear of bad luck may become a block in her relationship with God—as in the case of a feng shui believer who gets carried away and begins to rely more heavily on so-called experts rather than God.
If this is what’s happening to us because of our fears, then we should exert every effort to free ourselves from them and to end our slavery to fear.
At the end of the day, our fears are an invitation for us to trust the Lord. Whether we like it or not, some things simply lie beyond our control, and no amount of worrying will guarantee us protection from the things we fear most. But today the Lord says, "Fear no one"--or "Fear nothing," for that matter--not because he wants us to pretend that we will never be afraid, but that he wants us to trust him, living with our fears rather than living in fear.
Here's a Quick Question for you: "What are some of your worst fears? And what does your list tell you about yourself and about God?" Think about it, and if you feel up to it, share a thought, a feeling, or a question.
If you wish, you may want to watch Leona Lewis's music video of "Footprints in the Sand." We all know that famous story about the Lord always walking with us both in good times and bad, but the song provides us an opportunity to think--and pray--about it in a different way. Click here to play the video.
FOOTPRINTS IN THE SAND
You walked with me Footprints in the sand And helped me understand Where I'm going You walked with me When I was all alone With so much I no along the way Then I heard you say
I promise you I'm always there When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair I'll carry you When you need a friend You'll find my footprints in the sand
I see my life Flash across the sky So many times have I Been so afraid ooh And just when I Have thought I've lost my way [ Footprints In The Sand lyrics found on http://www.completealbumlyrics.com ] You give me strength to carry on That's when I heard you say
I promise you I'm always there When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair I'll carry you When you need a friend You'll find my footprints in the sand
When I'm weary Well I no you'll be there And I can feel you When you say
I promise you I'm always there When your heart is full of sadness and despair I'll carry you When you need a friend You'll find my footprints in the sand
