Dominus Flevit (The Lord Wept)

I wonder how Jesus would have felt as he embarked on what he knew was to be his last journey. How painful was it, to tell his disciples:

“Now we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of man is about to be handed over to the chief priests and the scribes. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the gentiles, who will mock him and spit at him and scourge him and put him to death…” (Mark 10:32-34)

He is described to have been walking alone ahead… the others followed behind him apprehensively (Mark 10:32). It would have been a very solemn, lonely walk.

When he finally sees Jerusalem there in the distance, he stops. He cannot hold the tears any longer.

As he drew near and came in sight of the city, he shed tears over it and said,
“If you too had only recognized on this day the way to peace! But in fact it is hidden from your eyes! Yes, a time is coming when your enemies will raise fortifications all round you, when they will encircle you and hem you in on every side; they will dash you and the children inside your walls to the ground; they will leave not one stone standing on another within you, because you did not recognize the moment of your visitation.” (Luke 19:41-44)

With the grand city there before him, Jesus weeps.
He weeps for the destruction of this holy city of David, for the pain, anguish and despair that his beloved people will suffer. He weeps for the sinfulness, the pride, the selfishness that will bring about such suffering. He weeps for their failure to recognize the love of God, the Emmanuel coming here to them. He weeps for their unbelief, their hardness of heart, their rejection and their hatred, when they will bind him, scourge him, and hang him on the cross. He weeps for suffering and death – that which he would endure, and that which all men face, the consequence of our sins, our rejection of God.

* * * * * * *

Lord Jesus,

In your tears, you allowed your humanity, your deep compassion to flow forth.
You mourned the failure of man
The rejection of Love,
And the sorrow we thus bear.

We weep with you, for our own mistakes -
Our own failure to recognize you,
And our own rejection of your love.
We weep for our own sins and suffering,
And of those all around the world.

Help us to realise, on this day, the way to peace.
Help us always to recognise you in our lives,
The moments of your visitation.

Lead us, we pray, to the New Jerusalem,
where:

“God lives among human beings.
He will make his home among them;
they will be his people, and he will be their God,
God-with-them.

He will wipe away all tears from their eyes;
There will be no more death. And no more mourning or sadness or pain.
The world of the past has gone.

Then the one seated on the throne said,
Behold I make all things new.”
(Revelations 21:3-4)

Prayer of Discernment

Thomas Merton

My Lord God,
I have no idea where I am going.
I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end.
Nor do I really know myself,
And the fact that I think I am following your will
Does not mean that I am actually doing so.
But I believe that the desire to please you
Does in fact please you.
And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing.
I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire.
And I know that if I do this,
Yyou will lead me by the right road,
Though I may know nothing about it.
Therefore I will trust you always though I may seem to be lost
And in the shadow of death.
I will not fear, for you are ever with me,
And you will never leave me to face my struggles alone.

What Do You Want?

(Reflection written on 22/11/08)

John 1:35-39
The next day John was there again with two of his disciples, and as he watched Jesus walk by, he said, "Behold, the Lamb of God." The two disciples heard what he said and followed Jesus. Jesus turned and saw them following him and said to them, "What are you looking for?" They said to him, "Rabbi" (which translated means Teacher), "where are you staying?" He said to them, "Come, and see."

I imagine myself walking with my friend behind Jesus, curious, searching. As we followed at a safe distance behind, Jesus turns around and, looks at me in the eye and asks, “Lawrence, what are you looking for?”

What do you want?
To know that You are happy with me – that I am alright, that I am where I am meant to be, who you want me to be; that I am at the right place, in the right direction – to hear the words, “You are my beloved son, with whom I am pleased”. To hear these words from another is comforting, encouraging. The harder part is to be able to hear them from oneself. Do I feel that I am where I am to be? Am I who I want to be?

I am gratefully certain that in terms of my career, I am at exactly the right place, where God has called me & helped me to get to. Physically, I am capable and health (although must keep a better diet). What about personally and spiritually?

I know that I am far from ideal in my faith, relationships, will, fortitude, love. I am called to much higher ground than where I am now. However, I know also that I am searching; desiring & striving to improve, to learn, to grow. I am open to receive. I know that God is with me – helping me, guiding me always; loving me. “Ask and you will receive; search and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you” (Luke 11:9)

So, I am happy. I am where I want to be, who I am – and so, going where I want to go. And where is this taking me? Jesus replies,
“Come and see”.

Who am I?

Today was the last day of my tertiary studies, which ended with a very nice farewell party. As I look back over the past six years, I recall a rich myriad of memories – from the first years at university, when the seeds of knowledge implanted and fresh friendships eagerly formed, to the fellowship and joy of the friends and experiences I’ve come to known through CASS, and to the later clinical years, with the many patients and staff that I have worked with, learnt from, respected.

In amongst the magnitude of the things that I have learnt over the past six years, it is of note that the most important and significant of these were not so much of medical knowledge, but rather, learning about the ways of life – the value of people, the appreciation of beauty, the strengthening challenges of pressures and perseverance, and the celebration of growth, maturation and fulfillment. In addition to the good experiences, I also recall the many mistakes and regrets, the many losses and sacrifices in areas of friendship, personal growth, appreciation of life. Regardless of the particulars, one thing is clear – that this intricate tapestry of blessings and regrets has significantly changed me and formed me, into who I am now, and for all that growth and enrichment, I am thankful.

In the midst of the different roles, appearances, achievements, in the end, I am simply who I am.

Throughout our lives, we are time and time again given labels and identities by people, describing who we are – diligent student, close friend, poor sportsman, valued employee... Jesus too, had been given many labels – rabbi, master, prophet, king. In addition, when:

He put this question to his disciples, “who do people say I am?”, they replied, “John the Baptist, others Elijah, others again, one of the prophets.” “But you”, he asked them, “who do you say I am?” Peter spoke up and said to him, “You are the Christ.”
(Mark 8:27 – 29)

In the midst of all these names, titles, proclamations from others, I think Jesus too needed to look into himself, and recognize for himself who he really is. Maybe it was in this inward recognition of his true identity, that he was able to keep going, to say, “Let your will be done, not mine” (Luke 22:41), “I was born for this, I came into the world for this” (18:37), and to finally say on the cross, “It is fulfilled” (John 19:30).

In the midst of our own collage of names, titles, achievements and appearances, we too need to take the time to look inwards at who we are for ourselves. Who am I, when I’m just with God by myself? Maybe when we could take the step to enter within ourselves, to come face to face with our own bare nature and vulnerabilities, we would hear, in our depths, the gentle voice which tells us, “You are my beloved son.”

The Three Magis

Whilst praying the Franciscan Rosary this weekend, I meditated on the visit of the Magi to the infant Jesus.

Matthew 2:10 – 11

“The sight of the star filled them with delight, and going into the house they saw the child with his mother Mary, and falling to their knees they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold and frankincense and myrrh.”

Pictures of this beautiful scene often portray three powerful men, dressed as kings or sages, kneeling in reverence and awe before the infant Jesus in the manger, a snapshot of a moment immortalised in Scripture and Art, picturing the great contradiction and glory of God, Emmanuel.

I wonder what happened next after that scene of homage and gifts? Having travelled so far from the distant East, in search of this “infant king of the Jews”, how long did they stay the night? How long were the Magi on their knees for in adoration? And what did they do during the rest of the time? If they spent the rest of the night talking to Mary and Joseph, what would they have talked about – what wonderful tales of their epic journey, or talk of glorious hopes in the future King would have been shared on that quiet night?

There is a story from the Desert Fathers:

“Three Fathers used to go and visit Blessed Anthony every year and two of them used to discuss their thoughts and the salvation of their souls with him, but the third always remained silent and did not ask him anything. After a long time Abba Anthony said to him, “You often come here to see me, but you never ask me anything,” and he replied, “It is enough for me to see you, Father.”

I realized that on this night of the Magis, there were probably very few words spoken. On that rich night, they may have realized that this infant before them was far greater than they could ever imagine or describe; that He gives them, in His holy Presence, riches far more precious than any gold, frankincense and myrrh. On their knees, they may have realized that in the presence of this Emmanuel, ‘God-With-Us’, all other actions, all words were of triviality, and that the greatest thing that they could do was to adore the One before them, and to receive – to receive His Holy presence and all that this shone upon them.

When we live out our lives of prayer, may we not be drowned in our own busy words and thoughts – our own tales and hopes. Rather, may we recognize the greatness of God’s presence truly here with us - in all that is around us, and penetrating into the greatest depths of our hearts. May we, totally immersed in His boundless love, realize that here is the One that we have long searched for from afar.

On humbled knees, we pray, “You are my Love, my King, my All.”

Isaiah 9:5

“For a son has been born for us,
A son has been given to us,
And dominion has been laid on his shoulders;

And this is the names he has been given,
Wonder Counsellor, Mighty-God,
Eternal Father,
Prince of Peace”

The Sense that Love Makes

Thomas Merton

One thing I must admit: a failure of lucidity in regard to love. It is so easy to assume that love is somehow a solution to a problem. Like: life is a problem which is impossible until someone comes along that you can love. Or, man is himself a problem, solved by love. Love is a key to a hidden answer in us. And so on, but is this true? Or is it only what everybody wants to be true? Maybe love, like everything else, is in large measure absurd. Does love too have to make perfect sense? In what way does it have to?

The sense that love makes, and I think the only sense it makes, is the beloved. The discovery, the revelation of the absolute value of the one loved. This is not so much a discovery of meaning as a discovery of goodness. To think of love as an answer or a “solution” is to evade the stark directness of this discovery. The fact that you are you is something of absolute value to me. But if I love in a certain way, this becomes covered over and hidden with allthe operations of love, and what happens then is that love takes the place of the beloved. Then love, instead of being a solution (which it is not supposed to be) becomes a problem for which there is no solution. For then love stands in the way between the lovers. It veils the goodness of the beloved. It dresses (or undresses) the beloved as desirable object. Which is all right, too, except that one loves desire instead of the beloved.

The fact that you are: that you are you. This is all I have left. But it is the whole of love. And nothing can change it.

June 1966, VI. 307

God's Presence

The first step of prayer is to recognize the presence of God. To realize that He is here, more present and more real than all the things around me – everything else that I can see, hear, touch, feel. To recognize that He is the real Truth, to which all things look, from which all things are born, and in which all things are contained. To be able to place aside all our senses, thoughts, and ripples in the mind – to come to the stillness of the heart, where He resides, waiting, patiently.

To put aside all else, let go of all that we cling to. Open and empty, we step into His presence within us.

Song of the Brightness of Water

Poem by Karol Wojtyla (now Pope John Paul II), on the Samaritan woman's reflections after her encounter with Jesus at the well (John 4)

Song of the Brightness of Water
Karol Wojtyla (1950)

From this depth-I came only to draw water
in a jug-so long ago, this brightness
still clings to my eyes-the perception I found,
and so much empty space, my own
reflected in the well.

Yet it is good. I can never take all of you
into me. Stay then as a mirror in the well.
Leaves and flowers remain, and each astonished gaze
brings them down
to my eyes transfixed more by light
Than by sorrow.

On Writing - excerpt from Henri Nouwen, "Reflections on Theological Education" (unpublished)

Most students of theology think that writing means writing down ideas, insights, or visions. They feel that they first must have something to say before they can put it on paper. For them, writing is little more than recording a pre-existent thought. But with this approach, true writing is impossible.

Writing is a process in which we discover what lives in us. The writing itself reveals to us what is alive in us. The deepest satisfaction of writing is precisely that it opens up new spaces within us of which we were not aware before we started to write. To write is to embark on a journey whose final destination we do not know. Thus, writing requires a real act of trust. We have to say to ourselves: "I do not yet know what I carry in my heart, but I trust that it will emerge as I write." Writing is like giving away the few loaves and fishes one has, trusting that they will multiply in the giving. Once we dare to "give away" on paper the few thoughts that come to us, we start discovering how much is hidden underneath these thoughts and gradually come in touch with our own riches.

Awakening & Witness

(Written on Oct 31)

thank Edith for her discussions, encouragement & initiative in getting this project started. So often, we have various great ideas & plans that never materialise. It's great to have someone who can see the promise in the idea, the faith in the goal, and courage to take the first step!

I thought I would write in my first entry, about the aim for contributing in this blog, in writing down some reflections & thoughts. However, as I thought about it, I soon I realised that it was hard to actually put into words my intentions, visions, and what prompted me to do this. Why is it that I want to share my reflections? What have I to say that would be of value to others? Is this in response to God’s call, or is this in fact because of selfish reasons, in my desire for recognition or praise for possible expressions of wise insight and depth of spirituality?

Reading today's Gospel gave me some insight into maybe what God calls of me.

{Luke 14:1-6
On a sabbath Jesus went to dine at the home of one of the leading Pharisees, and the people there were observing him carefully. In front of him there was a man suffering from dropsy. Jesus spoke to the scholars of the law and Pharisees in reply, asking, “Is it lawful to cure on the sabbath or not?” But they kept silent; so he took the man and, after he had healed him, dismissed him. Then he said to them “Who among you, if your son or ox falls into a cistern, would not immediately pull him out on the sabbath day?” But they were unable to answer his question. }

Jesus was in the centre of attention of everyone. Under close scrutiny, every word, every action from Him would be pounced upon, analysed, judged. When He encounters the suffering man in need of healing, the way in which others would view Him, judge Him, admire Him or condemn Him did not matter. What determined His action was His deep compassion for the man – the profound, innate desire to reach out, to heal, to love him.

So, I pray that this space for me, these reflections, will be, above all else, a place where I can encounter God, like the man before Jesus. A place where I can quieten myself away from the clamour of the distractions and demands of daily life, and in this quiet space, hear the gentle whisper of God speaking to me, speaking words of love; a place where God can dwell - and reach out, in nourishment, healing and gentle awakening.

They are, thus, personal reflections, of my own encounter with God. Whilst being in its nature, personal, they are also shared here, since I trust that some of these words may echo our common experiences with the One God. If so, may this give voice to the stirrings in your own hearts, the soft whispers of God in you - and thus we become witnesses in our shared faith, and companions on our journey.