It's been a long couple months prepping for World Youth Day. Looking back at the past year so far, 2016 has probably been the year I made the biggest advancements and growth in my personal life and my faith, and for that I could not be more grateful to God and the wonderful people that surround me, challenge me, and encourage me to grow and push myself towards greatness.
In just a few hours we begin our journey towards Poland and St. John Paul II's stomping grounds. Even the thought of walking the same ground as St. JPII walked in that holy and beautiful country fills me with much excitement and anticipation.
Perhaps most people are surprised of the fact that I am not expecting too much. It is because of the understanding that everything I will be given during this pilgrimage is a gift from God and everything I experience will be a blessing that is willingly given. So I willingly take - without hesitation, without expectation, without standards of how this will go. Especially considering that this is my first World Youth Day, I really do not know what to expect. But I want to get the most out of this experience and receive everything the Lord wants to give me during these next two weeks.
So off we go. I consider myself very fortunate and very blessed to be able to make a pilgrimage like this; a pilgrimage that many only dream of and desire in their lives. And I know that one thing is for certain: there are many, many graces available and I cannot wait to receive whatever the Lord wishes to give me.
Verso l'alto.
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reflections. Show all posts
Monday, July 18, 2016
Thursday, March 3, 2016
Halfway through Lent
So we're twenty days out of forty into Lent. (Technically twenty three out of forty-six if you're counting Sundays). So what's the verdict?
The past three weeks have definitely been an incredible experience and journey for me and I spent a lot of that time basking in the Lord's presence and generally enjoying a beautiful and fruitful time. They say that getting to the halfway point is the hardest part of the journey, and that once you're halfway you're basically home free.
Unfortunately, that doesn't really seem to be the case with Lent. At least, it doesn't seem the case for me, for Lent. This is a difficult season... it's a season of repentance, of growth, of discipline, of weeding out old habits and beginning the process of separating yourself from things that are holding you down from your relationship with God. Although that sounds pleasant and wonderful, when you actually get to the humanity level of it, and you see someone like me, you realize it's a lot more painful and a lot more difficult than what may be depicted.
This is a time when we realize that that thirst, that yearning, that we feel in our daily lives can only be satisfied by God. It's a time of saying goodbye to ourselves and realizing that we can't actually do all that much on our own, and that ultimately our ego has to go if we truly want to live. Because only Christ can give life, and only Christ can satisfy the deepest desires of our hearts at those times when we are even too scared to look at ourselves, in our heart of hearts, and see what might be there.
Although I am thankful and relish this incredible time of consolation and comfort from God, I know it cannot last - and the painful process of ridding yourself of poison (with His help) and cleaning those battle wounds? - that has just begun. And it's a journey I am glad to have started, but it's a journey and a process I know will not stop when Lent ends later this month. It's a process that must be committed to, that must be chosen, that must be endured.
Honestly, I have broken all of my Lenten promises at least once since Ash Wednesday, and we just reached the halfway point. As amazing as it would have been to go all forty days keeping those promises and those commitments, and how great bragging rights I can get or whatever if I kept those; I sit here, writing this blog post, and have realized in this process how thankful I am to have actually broken all these 'Lenten promises'. I'm not saying that the commitments and promises meant nothing to me, and I did indeed try my very hardest with them, but what would surviving forty days without internet on my phone have gotten me? What would serving forty days without complaining gotten me? I would have grown in a lot of virtue and probably have been a lot more productive with my time away from home. But looking back now, perhaps breaking these promises taught an even more important lesson to me this Lent, one that perhaps God wanted to teach me more sitting in my current spot in life: that WE'RE NOT PERFECT.
But God is. We can try all we want, but the very fact of the matter is that we can't be perfect. We aim to be perfect, but we're not at the present state. We're not perfect because we don't love God as perfectly as we should. God makes us perfect. God completes us. And only with God and His assistance can we become perfect.
We all try too hard to figure it all out on our own. We want to solve our own problems, we want to think that we don't need to rely on other people. While that's very admirable, there are and will be times in our lives when that simply won't be feasible - there will come a time when we realize that we really can't do it all on our own, no matter how much we don't like to say or hear that fact. I truly believe that God is allowing this period of desolation for me because I need to learn precisely that: I have become too comfortable in doing things by myself and have become too reliant on myself to the point where that can become prideful. And pride is the man's ultimate undoing. It is the root of sin and it is the root of everything that is wrong in this world. Love has no room for pride. I am standing here, in this place in my life - physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, relationally - because of the grace of God and through hundreds of thousands of others souls' influences, whether they be positive, negative, or anything in between.
So although I have been experiencing a lot of pain and suffering the past couple days, I am ready for all that this Holy Lent has to offer me and I am ready for all else that God is trying to speak to me this Lent, and through the rest of my life. We grow in desolation, and although this time, this healing and growing time, is difficult, it is the only way to grow stronger and blossom into all that God is calling us to be.
So fight on, brothers and sisters. Pray for me.
Pax semper vobiscum.
The past three weeks have definitely been an incredible experience and journey for me and I spent a lot of that time basking in the Lord's presence and generally enjoying a beautiful and fruitful time. They say that getting to the halfway point is the hardest part of the journey, and that once you're halfway you're basically home free.
Unfortunately, that doesn't really seem to be the case with Lent. At least, it doesn't seem the case for me, for Lent. This is a difficult season... it's a season of repentance, of growth, of discipline, of weeding out old habits and beginning the process of separating yourself from things that are holding you down from your relationship with God. Although that sounds pleasant and wonderful, when you actually get to the humanity level of it, and you see someone like me, you realize it's a lot more painful and a lot more difficult than what may be depicted.
This is a time when we realize that that thirst, that yearning, that we feel in our daily lives can only be satisfied by God. It's a time of saying goodbye to ourselves and realizing that we can't actually do all that much on our own, and that ultimately our ego has to go if we truly want to live. Because only Christ can give life, and only Christ can satisfy the deepest desires of our hearts at those times when we are even too scared to look at ourselves, in our heart of hearts, and see what might be there.
Although I am thankful and relish this incredible time of consolation and comfort from God, I know it cannot last - and the painful process of ridding yourself of poison (with His help) and cleaning those battle wounds? - that has just begun. And it's a journey I am glad to have started, but it's a journey and a process I know will not stop when Lent ends later this month. It's a process that must be committed to, that must be chosen, that must be endured.
Honestly, I have broken all of my Lenten promises at least once since Ash Wednesday, and we just reached the halfway point. As amazing as it would have been to go all forty days keeping those promises and those commitments, and how great bragging rights I can get or whatever if I kept those; I sit here, writing this blog post, and have realized in this process how thankful I am to have actually broken all these 'Lenten promises'. I'm not saying that the commitments and promises meant nothing to me, and I did indeed try my very hardest with them, but what would surviving forty days without internet on my phone have gotten me? What would serving forty days without complaining gotten me? I would have grown in a lot of virtue and probably have been a lot more productive with my time away from home. But looking back now, perhaps breaking these promises taught an even more important lesson to me this Lent, one that perhaps God wanted to teach me more sitting in my current spot in life: that WE'RE NOT PERFECT.
But God is. We can try all we want, but the very fact of the matter is that we can't be perfect. We aim to be perfect, but we're not at the present state. We're not perfect because we don't love God as perfectly as we should. God makes us perfect. God completes us. And only with God and His assistance can we become perfect.
We all try too hard to figure it all out on our own. We want to solve our own problems, we want to think that we don't need to rely on other people. While that's very admirable, there are and will be times in our lives when that simply won't be feasible - there will come a time when we realize that we really can't do it all on our own, no matter how much we don't like to say or hear that fact. I truly believe that God is allowing this period of desolation for me because I need to learn precisely that: I have become too comfortable in doing things by myself and have become too reliant on myself to the point where that can become prideful. And pride is the man's ultimate undoing. It is the root of sin and it is the root of everything that is wrong in this world. Love has no room for pride. I am standing here, in this place in my life - physically, emotionally, spiritually, mentally, relationally - because of the grace of God and through hundreds of thousands of others souls' influences, whether they be positive, negative, or anything in between.
So although I have been experiencing a lot of pain and suffering the past couple days, I am ready for all that this Holy Lent has to offer me and I am ready for all else that God is trying to speak to me this Lent, and through the rest of my life. We grow in desolation, and although this time, this healing and growing time, is difficult, it is the only way to grow stronger and blossom into all that God is calling us to be.
So fight on, brothers and sisters. Pray for me.
Pax semper vobiscum.
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Mercy.
During a truly striking talk I heard during CCO Rise Up this Christmas, André Regnier, the co-founder of CCO, mentioned that "we all have a love language. The Father's love language is MERCY." This is how God communicates His love for us - through this personal, freely offered mercy. And how life-changing that mercy is.
That's incredible on so many levels to hear, especially in this Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy. The Father offers this mercy to us, and it is absolutely nothing that we deserve or merit for ourselves - but something generously given as a demonstration of the Father's heart.
That mercy changes us.
We all need to experience this mercy, to experience this forgiveness. Even thinking back to my own 'conversion', or reawakening, or reinvigoration back into the faith (or what have you), the biggest part of that was an experience of the Father's love, the Father's heart - through the mercy that He offers us in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It's incredible the effect of simple words "You are forgiven" can have on us and our lives. It's a burden lifted, it's a burden carried by Jesus on His cross that we no longer have to carry - and as a result, we are changed.
This freedom and joy is offered to all of us and it's incredible how much that we all grasp at just about everything else to find that freedom and acceptance and peace and joy - but fall just short of finding God. The Evil One wants us to believe that we are not worthy of God, that we are not worthy of His forgiveness and His mercy that He offers us. That we have fallen into a hole that is so deep, that now because we are no longer worthy of achieving God, we must look towards the world and 'settle' for something that's smaller than the great mercy of God.
But God doesn't want us to settle. He wants us - He's pursuing us.
And that is something that is so beautiful that I cannot begin to fathom. Is our God really that good? Is He that relentless? Somedays I find it hard to believe myself. Well, most of the time. It's hard to imagine a God that is so good, so loving, so perfect - because all we have to work with here on earth is a broken world, and we are a broken people. But I can have trust that it is my brokenness that God desires to heal, and that is what He came down to heal. And that is what He is offering every day in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It's perhaps a mystery that I will never understand until I meet Him, but it is a mystery that I choose to delight in.
Rise Up in Montréal was a stunning experience for me and really helped me in my prayer life and relationship with God. I was given an opportunity to just let Him delight in me. Everything was so beautiful, and the experiences I had were so blessed - I could hardly imagine the beauty of God after experiencing the beautiful Notre Dame, the expansive Mary, Queen of the World Cathedral, and the humble but stunning St. Joseph's Oratory. Each of these three churches took my breath away - and how much more infinitely beautiful and stunning is God, compared to these man-made buildings, man-made interpretations of God?
We are no longer slaves to fear, to our sin, to our doubts, to our brokenness. We are children of God. And it is time for us to let Him delight in us as we run towards His awaiting arms of mercy.
That's incredible on so many levels to hear, especially in this Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy. The Father offers this mercy to us, and it is absolutely nothing that we deserve or merit for ourselves - but something generously given as a demonstration of the Father's heart.
That mercy changes us.
We all need to experience this mercy, to experience this forgiveness. Even thinking back to my own 'conversion', or reawakening, or reinvigoration back into the faith (or what have you), the biggest part of that was an experience of the Father's love, the Father's heart - through the mercy that He offers us in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It's incredible the effect of simple words "You are forgiven" can have on us and our lives. It's a burden lifted, it's a burden carried by Jesus on His cross that we no longer have to carry - and as a result, we are changed.
This freedom and joy is offered to all of us and it's incredible how much that we all grasp at just about everything else to find that freedom and acceptance and peace and joy - but fall just short of finding God. The Evil One wants us to believe that we are not worthy of God, that we are not worthy of His forgiveness and His mercy that He offers us. That we have fallen into a hole that is so deep, that now because we are no longer worthy of achieving God, we must look towards the world and 'settle' for something that's smaller than the great mercy of God.
But God doesn't want us to settle. He wants us - He's pursuing us.
And that is something that is so beautiful that I cannot begin to fathom. Is our God really that good? Is He that relentless? Somedays I find it hard to believe myself. Well, most of the time. It's hard to imagine a God that is so good, so loving, so perfect - because all we have to work with here on earth is a broken world, and we are a broken people. But I can have trust that it is my brokenness that God desires to heal, and that is what He came down to heal. And that is what He is offering every day in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. It's perhaps a mystery that I will never understand until I meet Him, but it is a mystery that I choose to delight in.
Rise Up in Montréal was a stunning experience for me and really helped me in my prayer life and relationship with God. I was given an opportunity to just let Him delight in me. Everything was so beautiful, and the experiences I had were so blessed - I could hardly imagine the beauty of God after experiencing the beautiful Notre Dame, the expansive Mary, Queen of the World Cathedral, and the humble but stunning St. Joseph's Oratory. Each of these three churches took my breath away - and how much more infinitely beautiful and stunning is God, compared to these man-made buildings, man-made interpretations of God?
We are no longer slaves to fear, to our sin, to our doubts, to our brokenness. We are children of God. And it is time for us to let Him delight in us as we run towards His awaiting arms of mercy.
Thursday, December 10, 2015
Good, Good Father
Just a quick update, because I truly realize that I haven't posted in a really long time.
It's been a very busy past few months, being neck-deep into my third year of university education and all the trials and tribulations that come with it. I'm not going to lie and say it was easy; it was certainly a very difficult four months for me in all aspects: physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I would not have traded any of it for anything, but it was a hectic and busy time filled with and not exclusive to school, work, youth ministry, CCO, Spirit Day, and World Youth Day 2016 prep. Throughout this time I barely had time to breathe, to think, and to pray. However, this is the kind of environment that the Thomasian brain thrives in - this is the environment he loves. Although sometimes I wish I could just learn to take a break!
Although riddled with dryness and lukewarmness all-around, there have been many incredible blessings throughout the past semester: perhaps one of the biggest ones being the priestly ordination Mass for two priests in our Archdiocese - it was a truly blessed and wonderful evening. I've realized that God loves to spoil us and impress us, and the beautiful sensory experience that was the ordination Mass is something that can hardly be put into words. Great spiritual conversations with some of the seminarians that I call as close as brothers ended off the night.
Little things. It's easy for God to do the big things, to put on a spectacle, isn't it. After all, He's God! But I've come to the realization that He also loves to work through the tiny moments: an interaction with a customer, a smile with a stranger on the street, getting the perfect nap on the morning commute, coffee with a friend. That's God for you - He is so infinite that He can never be fully comprehended by our feeble, human brains. Yet, there's the beauty in the mystery - we don't have to fully comprehend Him for us to realize that our hearts are moulded for Him, our souls yearn and thirst for Him; that He and only He, who is the Beginning and the End; who is, who was, and who is to come; can satisfy us and bestow on us the greatest of joys, peace, and love.
One of such little things that God worked in my life this past week was at work - probably one of the most secular places in my life. Unmistakably, "Good, Good Father" - a beautiful song by Chris Tomlin, played over the speakers at my work. It was a strange moment, a colliding of two worlds, a beautiful and salient reminder that God is here - no matter how hidden He may seem or how absent He may seem. And right then and there, I went on with my daily activities with that silent prayer: thank You Lord. Thank You. It was with that incredible peace that I can just hear Him say, "it's going to be alright. Trust."
Maybe I'm just incredibly giddy at having my own, personal praise+worship session right at work; or maybe there's an incredible prayer hearing Chris Tomlin sing,
It's been a very busy past few months, being neck-deep into my third year of university education and all the trials and tribulations that come with it. I'm not going to lie and say it was easy; it was certainly a very difficult four months for me in all aspects: physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I would not have traded any of it for anything, but it was a hectic and busy time filled with and not exclusive to school, work, youth ministry, CCO, Spirit Day, and World Youth Day 2016 prep. Throughout this time I barely had time to breathe, to think, and to pray. However, this is the kind of environment that the Thomasian brain thrives in - this is the environment he loves. Although sometimes I wish I could just learn to take a break!
Although riddled with dryness and lukewarmness all-around, there have been many incredible blessings throughout the past semester: perhaps one of the biggest ones being the priestly ordination Mass for two priests in our Archdiocese - it was a truly blessed and wonderful evening. I've realized that God loves to spoil us and impress us, and the beautiful sensory experience that was the ordination Mass is something that can hardly be put into words. Great spiritual conversations with some of the seminarians that I call as close as brothers ended off the night.
Little things. It's easy for God to do the big things, to put on a spectacle, isn't it. After all, He's God! But I've come to the realization that He also loves to work through the tiny moments: an interaction with a customer, a smile with a stranger on the street, getting the perfect nap on the morning commute, coffee with a friend. That's God for you - He is so infinite that He can never be fully comprehended by our feeble, human brains. Yet, there's the beauty in the mystery - we don't have to fully comprehend Him for us to realize that our hearts are moulded for Him, our souls yearn and thirst for Him; that He and only He, who is the Beginning and the End; who is, who was, and who is to come; can satisfy us and bestow on us the greatest of joys, peace, and love.
One of such little things that God worked in my life this past week was at work - probably one of the most secular places in my life. Unmistakably, "Good, Good Father" - a beautiful song by Chris Tomlin, played over the speakers at my work. It was a strange moment, a colliding of two worlds, a beautiful and salient reminder that God is here - no matter how hidden He may seem or how absent He may seem. And right then and there, I went on with my daily activities with that silent prayer: thank You Lord. Thank You. It was with that incredible peace that I can just hear Him say, "it's going to be alright. Trust."
Maybe I'm just incredibly giddy at having my own, personal praise+worship session right at work; or maybe there's an incredible prayer hearing Chris Tomlin sing,
"I've seen many searching for answers far and wide
But I know we're all searching
for answers only You provide."
In this season of Advent, my prayer for you and my prayer for myself is that we may all continue to grow in our faith and trust in our Lord. He is God; He is timeless. He knows what He's doing. The God of the Universe, the creator of the mighty mountains and the delicate roses, the crashing storms and the gentle breeze wants to know us and care for us. I think it's about time we let Him be our good, good Father.
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Everything
Every year, the Archdiocese's Youth and Young Adult Ministry Office puts on a faith rally, pre-Confirmation event for the grade sevens in our Archdiocese - and every year, the Everything Skit is performed for the audience. It's an incredibly touching skit that depicts a girl through her struggle with sin and her acceptance of Jesus - her choice of Him, and in turn the awesome sacrifice that Jesus went through, freely, for all of us on the Cross in hopes that one day, with it now being possible, we will choose to reunite with Him.
The skit has always resonated with me very deeply in connection with my own sinfulness. I reject God, and have rejected Him, too many times in my life to count. The skit makes very real the struggle that I face and have faced, and for that I often find myself in tears because it is so exhausting and most of the time there is no hope in sight.
But the skit always helps me realize something else as well: it's the extreme lengths that God will go to bring me back. One of my favourite parts of the skit is when the vices struggle to grab the girl as Jesus protects her - with His cross - from all the sin that we struggle from. That chains us, that keeps us under. And that strikes me with an incredible amount of love and hope. Because God does that for me. He does it for you. It brings me to tears realizing that the fight is not a fight I have to do alone, but a fight that the God of the universe is fighting with me.
Recently, I have gotten the chance to be in the skit as a vice. And as much as I had learned from the skit as a spectator, I am beginning to see all the ways that I can learn from just being in the skit myself. It is a lot harder, and a lot more exhausting, and a lot more physically draining, than it appears on stage or on video. That reminds me of my own personal fight with sin. It is not going to be an easy fight, and often I will indeed be left bruised, and hurt, and fallen, and there are times when we must take the initiative and say, "Lord, I love You more than I love my sin, and today I am going to choose to run to you." The fight is long and drawn out, and often it feels like it will never end and we will always be caught in this constant state of motion: fighting, falling, getting back up.
But suffering passes, and if I am sure of anything, I am sure of that fact. Because God fights for me. And He does so every day of my life. And I can have full confidence that no matter how much I run from him, He will never give up on me, and He will always be waiting for me to return home.
The skit has always resonated with me very deeply in connection with my own sinfulness. I reject God, and have rejected Him, too many times in my life to count. The skit makes very real the struggle that I face and have faced, and for that I often find myself in tears because it is so exhausting and most of the time there is no hope in sight.
But the skit always helps me realize something else as well: it's the extreme lengths that God will go to bring me back. One of my favourite parts of the skit is when the vices struggle to grab the girl as Jesus protects her - with His cross - from all the sin that we struggle from. That chains us, that keeps us under. And that strikes me with an incredible amount of love and hope. Because God does that for me. He does it for you. It brings me to tears realizing that the fight is not a fight I have to do alone, but a fight that the God of the universe is fighting with me.
Recently, I have gotten the chance to be in the skit as a vice. And as much as I had learned from the skit as a spectator, I am beginning to see all the ways that I can learn from just being in the skit myself. It is a lot harder, and a lot more exhausting, and a lot more physically draining, than it appears on stage or on video. That reminds me of my own personal fight with sin. It is not going to be an easy fight, and often I will indeed be left bruised, and hurt, and fallen, and there are times when we must take the initiative and say, "Lord, I love You more than I love my sin, and today I am going to choose to run to you." The fight is long and drawn out, and often it feels like it will never end and we will always be caught in this constant state of motion: fighting, falling, getting back up.
But suffering passes, and if I am sure of anything, I am sure of that fact. Because God fights for me. And He does so every day of my life. And I can have full confidence that no matter how much I run from him, He will never give up on me, and He will always be waiting for me to return home.
Friday, June 12, 2015
Are we giving up fighting the good fight...?
Day 40 of IMPACT | June 12, 2015
Today I was able to spend some time with my team and one of the parishioners at our parish for lunch and some wonderful discussion. As I haven't blogged in a long time, I wanted to take some time and write some thoughts that I was thinking during our discussion.
One of my favourite quotes is from Pope Benedict XVI when he said that "the world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort, you were made for greatness." Isn't that such a powerful and moving passage? Indeed, much of this world offers comfort. Avoid sensitive topics, stay at home, keep to yourself, stay with familiar surroundings, don't ask questions. There is such a large complacency in the world, and I am guilty of this as well, much apathy. No one cares about anything! Everyone is perfectly content with living in their own little bubble, and constantly striving to do things that will get themselves praise, reward, affirmation, and a feeling self-fulfillment. It's a world driven by me, myself, and I, and a world where God and others seem like distant afterthoughts. "Yeah, I'll help them out if I get something back. I'll go to Mass if I have time. I'll be nice to them if they're nice to me." Where's the initiative, the selflessness, the stepping outside of oneself?
We are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14)!!! I am still just starting to fathom what that could possibly mean. God created us to love, to give of ourself to others, to mimic his own sacrificial love. We are created in His image, and with a plan! God doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't say "just kidding" and then take back what he just said or did previously (I often do that, for those who don't know). God doesn't make mistakes. He has wonderful plans for all of us, plans that show that He truly has our best interests in mind (Jeremiah 29:11). God doesn't set us up for failure and He certainly isn't malicious to put us in a bad situation that His grace cannot provide a way out of. That's not our God. Our God is love. Our God IS love. Deus caritas EST.
Surely we are meant for more than this? Surely we are meant for more than 10 likes on Instagram, or a cover photo that nobody saw, or a status that nobody commented on? Surely we are meant for more than an ad on TV, on billboards, that convince us that we should be someone else? Surely we are meant for more than just staring at a mirror wishing we were just that much thinner, that much darker, that much taller, that much more beautiful, that much more handsome, that much more muscular?
Truly, are we giving up? Are we getting tired, are we getting complacent? Are we stopping our fight, discouraged at the world for what it's become? Are we giving up sharing Jesus because there's no one that we think would appreciate us for sharing our faith? Our cure for spiritual cancer? Our source of joy and peace and love and life?
We are constantly fighting a spiritual battle in this world. We are fighting a battle that a certain evil one wants us to lose. We cannot afford to stop fighting. We cannot cease our prayer. We must not lose sight of God, we must continue to desire Him and choose Him every single day of our lives. It's so much easier to do the alternative, yes. (Like, MUCH easier.) But what is life without something to fight for? What is life without someone to sacrifice for? What is life without someone to live for?
Are we living at all? Maybe it's time we stop being comfortable and start being great. Maybe it's time we finally come to life with the love of God, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.
Today I was able to spend some time with my team and one of the parishioners at our parish for lunch and some wonderful discussion. As I haven't blogged in a long time, I wanted to take some time and write some thoughts that I was thinking during our discussion.
One of my favourite quotes is from Pope Benedict XVI when he said that "the world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort, you were made for greatness." Isn't that such a powerful and moving passage? Indeed, much of this world offers comfort. Avoid sensitive topics, stay at home, keep to yourself, stay with familiar surroundings, don't ask questions. There is such a large complacency in the world, and I am guilty of this as well, much apathy. No one cares about anything! Everyone is perfectly content with living in their own little bubble, and constantly striving to do things that will get themselves praise, reward, affirmation, and a feeling self-fulfillment. It's a world driven by me, myself, and I, and a world where God and others seem like distant afterthoughts. "Yeah, I'll help them out if I get something back. I'll go to Mass if I have time. I'll be nice to them if they're nice to me." Where's the initiative, the selflessness, the stepping outside of oneself?
We are fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14)!!! I am still just starting to fathom what that could possibly mean. God created us to love, to give of ourself to others, to mimic his own sacrificial love. We are created in His image, and with a plan! God doesn't make mistakes. He doesn't say "just kidding" and then take back what he just said or did previously (I often do that, for those who don't know). God doesn't make mistakes. He has wonderful plans for all of us, plans that show that He truly has our best interests in mind (Jeremiah 29:11). God doesn't set us up for failure and He certainly isn't malicious to put us in a bad situation that His grace cannot provide a way out of. That's not our God. Our God is love. Our God IS love. Deus caritas EST.
Surely we are meant for more than this? Surely we are meant for more than 10 likes on Instagram, or a cover photo that nobody saw, or a status that nobody commented on? Surely we are meant for more than an ad on TV, on billboards, that convince us that we should be someone else? Surely we are meant for more than just staring at a mirror wishing we were just that much thinner, that much darker, that much taller, that much more beautiful, that much more handsome, that much more muscular?
Truly, are we giving up? Are we getting tired, are we getting complacent? Are we stopping our fight, discouraged at the world for what it's become? Are we giving up sharing Jesus because there's no one that we think would appreciate us for sharing our faith? Our cure for spiritual cancer? Our source of joy and peace and love and life?
We are constantly fighting a spiritual battle in this world. We are fighting a battle that a certain evil one wants us to lose. We cannot afford to stop fighting. We cannot cease our prayer. We must not lose sight of God, we must continue to desire Him and choose Him every single day of our lives. It's so much easier to do the alternative, yes. (Like, MUCH easier.) But what is life without something to fight for? What is life without someone to sacrifice for? What is life without someone to live for?
Are we living at all? Maybe it's time we stop being comfortable and start being great. Maybe it's time we finally come to life with the love of God, the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit.
Sunday, August 10, 2014
The source and summit of our faith
It always fills me with great joy whenever I meet people who have converted to Catholicism. For me, such a decision does not come easily and requires a lot of faith, a lot of commitment, and a lot of courage. As a 'cradle Catholic', I don't think I would have the required amount of courage to make such a decision to turn my life around like this.
The most beautiful thing about converts, in my opinion, is the fact that they have made this decision on their own without any pressure from others or commitments they had to follow. Their Baptism and their Confirmation was a decision that they were drawn to because of their relationship with Jesus and their continuing desire for something more that this world cannot offer. I'm beginning to think that this personal relationship with Jesus is essential for Catholics. Sure, we can learn our theology, our catechesis, and the "what"s of our faith, but until we turn that "what" into a "Who", it isn't really something we will truly cherish.
Throughout my religion classes in high school, I will always remember one particular teacher that always told us cradle Catholics - "you have grown up in a faith given to you by your parents. But what will you do to make this your faith?" Until we answer this question, I don't think we can have the motivation to remain in the faith. The faith will simply be material, "what", learned in religion class and not a lifestyle, not a relationship with a person, a "Who", that makes it valuable and important to us.
I've heard many conversion stories from different people, and there are one of two things I notice that are almost always present in these stories that are told to me. The first: Truth. I think in a way, we all desire to know what's right, what's real, what's true. The Church is beautiful because it offers this Truth. There are no blurry edges and no shadows - to a person looking for Truth, the Catholic Church offers it with her open hands.
The second, perhaps the most important, and the single thing that made my parent's faith my faith, is the Eucharist. It is said that the Eucharist is the Source and the Summit of our faith, and that everything in the Faith points to the Eucharist and in turn branches out and is sent out, from it. I do not think it is a mistake that through Youth Ministry, I was drawn deeper and deeper into an appreciation of the Mass. Evidently, there are still days when I struggle to focus and struggle to appreciate it, but it is me striving to grow in a relationship with Jesus that causes me to continue to be attached to the faith and the Mass.
It is understandable that Mass would appear boring - especially if we do not see the Eucharist as it truly is - the Body of Christ. For me, it is shocking and humbling that Jesus would want to enter into our hearts in such a personal and intimate way - if we are willing to open the door and let Him in.
The past couple months I felt like I have made a lot of progress in turning this faith from something my parents gave me to a faith that is truly mine. Especially important to my growth at this time were two Sacraments: Reconciliation, and of course, the Eucharist. In one, I felt the deep and tender mercy and immense love of a merciful father and in the other, the almighty and powerful God of the universe and all creation enter my heart in the simple, humble form of the host.
There is something shocking and deeply paralyzing in the Eucharist and in Eucharistic Adoration. This past year, I feel a strange peace and satisfying joy in front of the Body of Christ that I have not felt before. It is a simple kind of joy and peace that I cannot and did not find anywhere else before - and it is an experience I know I will never feel anywhere else. Perhaps this is the kind of joy and peace Jesus offers and promises us so much when he tells us to not fear. The simple realization that Jesus is willing to come down into such a humble form in order to dwell with us and within us is mind-blowing and quite awesome. With Jesus with us all the time, truly we can ask ourselves, of whom or what should I fear?
Relationship is so important in the Catholic faith. It's getting ourselves to know not only the "what" - although that Truth is important too - but important to know the "Who" - Jesus Christ.
And that's why I love the Eucharist.
The most beautiful thing about converts, in my opinion, is the fact that they have made this decision on their own without any pressure from others or commitments they had to follow. Their Baptism and their Confirmation was a decision that they were drawn to because of their relationship with Jesus and their continuing desire for something more that this world cannot offer. I'm beginning to think that this personal relationship with Jesus is essential for Catholics. Sure, we can learn our theology, our catechesis, and the "what"s of our faith, but until we turn that "what" into a "Who", it isn't really something we will truly cherish.
Throughout my religion classes in high school, I will always remember one particular teacher that always told us cradle Catholics - "you have grown up in a faith given to you by your parents. But what will you do to make this your faith?" Until we answer this question, I don't think we can have the motivation to remain in the faith. The faith will simply be material, "what", learned in religion class and not a lifestyle, not a relationship with a person, a "Who", that makes it valuable and important to us.
I've heard many conversion stories from different people, and there are one of two things I notice that are almost always present in these stories that are told to me. The first: Truth. I think in a way, we all desire to know what's right, what's real, what's true. The Church is beautiful because it offers this Truth. There are no blurry edges and no shadows - to a person looking for Truth, the Catholic Church offers it with her open hands.
The second, perhaps the most important, and the single thing that made my parent's faith my faith, is the Eucharist. It is said that the Eucharist is the Source and the Summit of our faith, and that everything in the Faith points to the Eucharist and in turn branches out and is sent out, from it. I do not think it is a mistake that through Youth Ministry, I was drawn deeper and deeper into an appreciation of the Mass. Evidently, there are still days when I struggle to focus and struggle to appreciate it, but it is me striving to grow in a relationship with Jesus that causes me to continue to be attached to the faith and the Mass.
It is understandable that Mass would appear boring - especially if we do not see the Eucharist as it truly is - the Body of Christ. For me, it is shocking and humbling that Jesus would want to enter into our hearts in such a personal and intimate way - if we are willing to open the door and let Him in.
The past couple months I felt like I have made a lot of progress in turning this faith from something my parents gave me to a faith that is truly mine. Especially important to my growth at this time were two Sacraments: Reconciliation, and of course, the Eucharist. In one, I felt the deep and tender mercy and immense love of a merciful father and in the other, the almighty and powerful God of the universe and all creation enter my heart in the simple, humble form of the host.
There is something shocking and deeply paralyzing in the Eucharist and in Eucharistic Adoration. This past year, I feel a strange peace and satisfying joy in front of the Body of Christ that I have not felt before. It is a simple kind of joy and peace that I cannot and did not find anywhere else before - and it is an experience I know I will never feel anywhere else. Perhaps this is the kind of joy and peace Jesus offers and promises us so much when he tells us to not fear. The simple realization that Jesus is willing to come down into such a humble form in order to dwell with us and within us is mind-blowing and quite awesome. With Jesus with us all the time, truly we can ask ourselves, of whom or what should I fear?
Relationship is so important in the Catholic faith. It's getting ourselves to know not only the "what" - although that Truth is important too - but important to know the "Who" - Jesus Christ.
And that's why I love the Eucharist.
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