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 Unlike many of my friends, I've never liked "Godspell," the critics' raves notwithstanding. I've always preferred "Jesus Christ Superstar." Its whole concept simply doesn't work for me. However, having said that, I have to say that it has a couple of outstanding songs. The one that I like best is the popular "Day by Day"--a prayer about getting to know the Lord gradually, one day at a time, and as a result, learning to love him and follow him more.
In the Gospel reading today, the Lord tells us: "Now, this is eternal life, that they should know you, the one true God, and the one whom you sent, Jesus Christ."
That sounds simple enough except that it isn't as simple as it sounds. As we know, there are times in our lives when we feel that we do not know or understand God. This is to be expected. Our reason is quite limited, and God is infinitely beyond our reason: He can never be captured by our labels and descriptions of him. Ours is a God of surprises. Many times, just when we think we know him already, he pulls the rug from under our feet, and we realize that there’s so much more to know.
It's the same with the Lord. To follow Christ is not at all like taking a route familiar to us, where every turn and every detour has been mapped out for us. Nothing can be farther from the truth. To follow Christ is to go on a magnificent adventure that may bring you to places unexpected, even to places unwanted. It is a journey that is full of surprises—some pleasant, others painful. But it is a journey worth taking because it is a journey where Christ himself accompanies us, and a journey that, if pursued to the end, will bring us to the Father.
As we go on our individual journey of following Christ, let us remember that if we do not always understand him, if we are caught by surprise, that is to be expected. What is important is that we are willing to follow him even without understanding. What is important is that we admit that we have questions about him, and ask him what it all means. Our questions, after all, are doors that can lead us to a deeper discovery of Christ.
When you think about it, to follow Christ means several things: It means, first of all, to obey him, to do as he says, to follow his commands—i.e., to love one another, especially those most needy among us.
To follow him also means to imitate him, to be more Christlike, to be like him in our daily lives, so it is important that we strive to know him as much as we can.
But finally, more than anything else, to follow Christ means to walk after him, for he is always one step ahead of us. It means that even if we may not always understand him, or we may not completely understand, we will still allow him to lead us. We just have to take things one day at a time.
Here's a Quick Question for you: "Have you experienced one particular moment when you felt that you didn't know the Lord? Why?" Note: Here is a clip of the song "Day by Day" from "Godspell." If you can't watch the video, click here.
Today's Readings In 2006 a terrible tragedy occurred in Leyte, Southern Philippines, and an entire village was buried by a mudslide. Among the victims were about two hundred school children and their teachers who were trapped under the earth.
The rescue effort that ensued was nothing short of heroic, but what made the whole thing excruciating for the rescue team was that some of the children and teachers were sending text messages to their relatives, begging for help.
One of them said: ""Ma’am, we are still under the school. Please help us, ma’am. This is Edilio Coquilla. Please, ma’am."
The messages continued for a number of days until they finally stopped coming. I had lunch with a friend from high school, a guy named John. John is a “hydrogeophysicist”—essentially, a scientist who specializes in the study of water and uses his knowledge to help improve the lives of people. He was involved in the rescue operation in the 2006 Leyte tragedy.
The international rescue team felt they had failed. The rescuers later realized why. All along, while they were digging at the original site of the school building, they had actually been looking in the wrong place. It turned out that the school building, along with the other buildings next to it, had been swept to a location almost half a kilometer away. What was even more frustrating is that since the text messages of the children were getting through, the rescuers believed that they could not have been buried more than four feet underground. In other words, they could easily have been rescued if only the team knew where to dig.
In this Leyte tragedy, more than a thousand lives were lost. The rescuers who toiled from Day 2 to 8 found not a single live person. All in all, only twenty people survived—plus one chicken and one cat.
We can’t help but ask: Where was the Holy Spirit in this tragic event? If the Holy Spirit had been present, shouldn’t the rescuers have been given the much-needed inspiration or some sort of clue as to where or how to save the innocent mudslide victims?
When John came back to Manila, he attended Mass, and the Responsorial Psalm went something like this: “Lord, I called for Your help, and You answered my prayer.” But did the Lord answer his prayer? Given the failure of the rescue team to save the children, it certainly did not seem that way.
I asked John what he thought about that. I asked him if he felt God’s presence. His answer surprised me. He said: “There was an extraordinary outpouring of generosity. More than a thousand people were searching for the kids. The children and people who were buried became our kids, our brothers and sisters. We became one family, united with one goal.”
He said that each day the rescuers thought about the kids and the people who were buried. The evening discussions with the rescue teams were always filled with hope until finally they had to make the decision to stop all rescue efforts, if only to provide a closure for the family of the victims.
That’s not all. After the rescue operation, John was able to raise P120K from his high school classmates to start the construction of telemetric rain gauges that will help gather and monitor rainfall data that can serve as early warning device to prevent such tragedies from occurring again.
And so, appearances to the contrary notwithstanding, the Holy Spirit was very much present in the Leyte tragedy—although certainly not in the way people had desired or expected. And the Holy Spirit was very much active during and after the tragedy through concerned citizens and NGO’s that worked hard and gave much to prevent similar tragedies in the future. It seems then that the Holy Spirit is present and active even in our unholiest experiences. Or maybe, it would be better to say that the Holy Spirit is present and active especially in our unholiest experiences, because that is, after all, when we need the Holy Spirit the most.
I think all this tells us something very important about the Holy Spirit: We can never stereotype the Holy Spirit. We can never put the Holy Spirit in a box. The Holy Spirit refuses to be contained and limited to the so-called “holy places.” The Holy Spirit insists on crossing boundaries and to be found where the greatest need is. The mystics like to say that the Holy Spirit is like the wind that blows where it pleases. We all know how the wind can surprise us, blowing one direction one minute, and going off to a completely different direction the very next. The Holy Spirit is like that. And why not? God, after all, is a God of surprises.
Is it possible then that the Holy Spirit is present in our lives much more than we think? Is it possible then that the Holy Spirit is active in ourselves much more than we suspect? Perhaps the reason why we don’t sense the presence of the Holy Spirit as much as we can is that just like the rescuers in Leyte, we have been looking in the wrong places.
On the Feast of the Pentecost, let us open our eyes and our hearts—and seek the Holy Spirit not just where and how we expect the Holy Spirit to be—and not just where and how we want the Holy Spirit to be—but everywhere—in the holy places of our lives, but also even and especially in the unholy places. Here's a Quick Question for you: Are there places in my life that I don’t expect to find the Holy Spirit? Or better, are there places in myself that I don’t want to find the Holy Spirit?
A friend sent me a clip of Natasha Bedingfield singing her 2006 hit, "Unwritten," and I immediately liked the song and its message. The song is about self-discovery, and it's full of excitement about the adventures that lie ahead, but also at the same time full of defiance. The song Bedingfield sings exhorts us to refuse to let anyone else define us or live our lives for us.
I was listening to the song a while ago when, as it sometimes happens, an absolutely radical thought occurred to me. The song clearly applies to us and our search for identity, but can it also apply to God? When you think about it, the words of the song may well apply to the Blessed Trinity.
In his book, Spiritual Exercises, St. Ignatius of Loyola suggests that we pray by imagining the Divine Persons of the Blessed Trinity gazing at all of humanity, moved by our need for salvation, and discussing among themselves their plan for God to become human. After sending all the prophets, most of whom were unheeded and even killed, God decides to become human and do the work himself to save us. But the Incarnation is much more than God working for our salvation. More basic than that, it is God's effort to get a firsthand experience of what it's like to be human because he wants to become truly one of us.
In that light, it isn't difficult to conceive of these words as part of the imagined discussion within the Blessed Trinity:
Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins
The lines of the second verse also apply in an amazing way:
I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way
It has been written that the "God of the philosophers"--i.e., God as deduced by Aristotle and company--is so perfect that he doesn't change. To change is, for the philosophers, a sign of imperfection. But the God of the Christians--the God who became human in Jesus--apparently has a different idea. Our God as revealed by the Lord changes: Inserting himself into time, he became human and today in the Blessed Trinity, remains human. He "broke tradition," and his tries are certainly "outside the lines." More: In a very real sense, our God's book remains unwritten--or more precisely, it hasn't been completely written. In fact, God wants us to co-author his book. So perish any thought of predestination! God has given us the gift of freedom, and grants us the possibility of writing with him the rest of salvation history. "The rest," as the song goes, "is still unwritten." How do these unconventional and even disturbing thoughts about God make you feel? Think about them today, the Feast of the Blessed Trinity, and who knows? Maybe they'll lead you to a deeper appreciation of this great, incomprehensible mystery about our Triune God.
Here's a Not-So-Quick Question for you: "How do you feel about a God who changes, and who wants us to 'co-author' his book?"
Note: Here is Nat Bedingfield's live acoustic performance of the song.
Note: If you wish to watch another music video of Natasha Bedingfield's "Unwritten," click here.
UNWRITTEN
I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten
Oh, oh, oh
I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten
Staring at the blank page before you Open up the dirty window Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance So close you can almost taste it Release your inhibitions Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin No one else can feel it for you Only you can let it in No one else, no one else Can speak the words on your lips Drench yourself in words unspoken Live your life with arms wide open Today is where your book begins The rest is still unwritten The rest is still unwritten The rest is still unwritten
Today's Readings Lately, reading the papers or watching the news has been more painful than usual, thanks to all those recent tragedies. As a result, one can't help but identify with the main character in Collective Soul's music video of "The World I Know," a man commuting to work, but driven to despair by all the bad news in the world.
"The World I Know" has, of course, suddenly been made famous again when it was performed by the newest American Idol, David Cook, during the AI finale. Cook's heart-wrenching version, which won him the title despite Simon Cowell's prediction, is certainly a 'must-see', but Collective Soul's music video is also worth watching.
The video features a guy who just about gives up on this world. He does exactly what the song's refrain says: "So I walk up on high / And I step to the edge / To see my world below." He literally climbs up a building, steps onto its edge, and seriously considers ending it all. Then as he is about to jump, suddenly, out of nowhere, a pigeon, as though heaven-sent, perches on his outstretched arm. He is caught off guard and becomes enthralled by the bird. He decides to feed it with a doughnut, and before he knows it, this world notwithstanding, he feels that life is still worth living, after all.
These days we all could sure use a visitation by some bird from the sky. We need some kind of grace to descend from heaven. I think that's what our Lord may be trying to say when he talks about himself as the "Living Bread" in today's reading:
"I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world."
Knowing how the Lord's earthly life ended, we know all too well that "to live forever" does not refer to an exemption from death. Clearly, it refers to life after death, but I think it also refers to being able to live our lives in the here and now--i.e., surviving this world and inhabiting it in a way that's free from despair.
There are a thousand and one reasons why we should despair: the thousand and one ways that things go wrong, the thousand and one ways that we do wrong to others and to ourselves.
Today, the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ, the Lord tells us that it is possible to live in this tear-drenched, blood-soaked world of ours. And it is possible because of his self-sacrifice, the shedding of his own tears and the pouring of his own blood. Ironically, what allows us to keep walking away from the edge--as the guy does in the video--is precisely the fact that the Lord himself did not walk away from the edge, and that he instead--in our stead--did step off the edge for us. The grace that descends upon that guy in the video and upon us all, the dove that dissolves his despair and ours as well is the fruit of the Lord's self-sacrificing, saving love.
And so next time your dark clouds scatter suddenly and your deep sadness lifts for no apparent reason at all, remember why: Jesus.
So here's a Quick Question for you: "Do you recall a time when you felt truly near the edge? What saved you from that despair?" Note: To watch Collective Soul's music video of "The World I Know," click here. Here are the lyrics of the song:
THE WORLD I KNOW
Has our conscience shown? Has the sweet breeze blown? Has all the kindness gone? Hope still lingers on. I drink myself of newfound pity Sitting alone in New York City And I don't know why.
Are we listening To hymns of offering? Have we eyes to see That love is gathering? All the words that I've been reading Have now started the act of bleeding Into one.
So I walk up on high And I step to the edge To see my world below. And I laugh at myself As the tears roll down. 'Cause it's the world I know. It's the world I know.
