“If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”

There was a woman afflicted with hemorrhages for twelve years. She had suffered greatly at the hands of many doctors and had spent all that she had. Yet she was not helped but only grew worse. She had heard about Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak. She said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.” Immediately her flow of blood dried up. She felt in her body that she was healed of her affliction. Jesus, aware at once that power had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?” But his disciples said to him, “You see how the crowd is pressing upon you, and yet you ask, Who touched me?” And he looked around to see who had done it. The woman, realizing what had happened to her, approached in fear and trembling. She fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth. He said to her, “Daughter, your faith has saved you. Go in peace and be cured of your affliction.” Mark 5:21-43

My Adaptation of the Gospel

There was a man afflicted with lack of life's direction for so many years.
He had suffered greatly at the hands of many, most had been self-inflicted,
and he had tried all that he could.
Yet he was not helped but only grew worse.
He had heard about this man named Jesus and came up behind him in the crowd
and touched his cloak.
He said, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be cured.”
Immediately his heart felt a surge of meaning.
He felt deep within him that despite all those pleasant or unpleasant experiences and memories he had, one thing became so clear to him, that he is loved.
Jesus, aware at once that love had gone out from him,
turned around in the crowd and asked, “Who has touched my clothes?”
But his disciples said to him,
“You see how the crowd is milling around you,
and yet you ask, Who touched me?” (Its fascinating how many in the crowd had physical contact with Jesus yet only one desperate man actually felt the presence of Jesus. That man in dire need and desire to be loved.)
And he looked around to see who had done it.
The man, realizing what had happened to him,
approached in fascination and great wonder.
He fell down before Jesus and told him the whole truth.
He said to him, “Son, your faith and your deep thirst for love has saved you.
Go in peace and be a cure as well to the others' affliction.”

Positive Anger

I stumbled upon this funny story in my archives folder. One of my spiritual directees might have sent this to me. I just thought the couple in the story might be able to remind us of something.

There was once a man and woman who had been
married for more than 60 years. They had shared
everything. They had talked about everything. They
had kept no secrets from each other except that
the little old woman had a shoe box in the top of
her closet that she had cautioned her husband
never to open or ask her about.

For all of these years, he had never thought about
the box, but one day the little old woman got very
sick and the doctor said she would not recover. In
trying to sort out their affairs, the little old man
took down the shoe box and took it to his wife's
bedside. She agreed that it was time that he
should know what was in the box. When he
opened it, he found two crocheted dolls and a
stack of money totaling $25,000. He asked her
about the contents.

"When we were to be married," she said, "my
grandmother told me the secret of a happy
marriage was to never argue. She told me that if I
ever got angry with you, I should just keep quiet
and crochet a doll."

The little old man was so moved; he had to fight
back tears. Only two precious dolls were in the
box. She had only been angry with him two times
in all those years of living and loving. He almost
burst with happiness.

"Honey," he said, "that explains the dolls, but what
about all of this money? Where did it come from?"

"Oh," she said, "that's the money I made from
selling all the dolls.

Dear God, I pray for Wisdom to understand my
man;
Love to forgive him;
And Patience for his moods; because God, if I pray
for Strength, I'll beat him to death.

For Whom Our World Is Made

There is something that fired me up upon listening to the Scripture reading for the day:

“The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.
That is why the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.”

Humans are not made for the law but the law is made for humans.
Humans are not made for race and culture but race and culture are made for humans.
Humans are not made for nationalities but nationalities are made for humans.
Humans are not made for the institutions but institutions are made for humans.
Humans are not made for the celebration but the celebration is made for humans.
Humans are not made for wealth but wealth is made for humans.
Humans are not made for the world but the world is made for humans. However, this does not mean humans have the license to just carelessly do as they wish to the world because if we destroy the world we destroy ourselves. The world is imminent in humans and has a direct effect on humans.
Humans are not made for rules and protocols but rules and protocols are made for humans.
These have great tendency to stand on their own as if they have been arrived at for their own sake. They have to be constantly evaluated, checked if they are still faithful to their foundations which are always fluidly rich, dynamic, and constantly fresh. The only way to check them is to go back always to the essentials - one's core human experiences and core values.

I too very often forget the end to everything. This is a good reminder for me and for you. Especially when we feel so encumbered by many concerns.
May we live our lives to the fullest with our eyes focused on just the few essentials.

Journey Of The Magi by T.S. Eliot

'A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed,
refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the
terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and
grumbling
And running away, and wanting their
liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the
lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns
unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high
prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all
night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears,
saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a
temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of
vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill
beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped in
away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with
vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for
pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so
we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment
too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say)
satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I
remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth,
certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had
seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different;
this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like
Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these
Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old
dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their
gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Called to Great Things

The Gospel today is about the calling of Philip and Nathanael. From this day on and the many days to come, I realize this is my own calling too.

After reading the Gospel, I pondered on three points: (1) Jesus calls me to see greater things that are to come. (2) How or when will I see such great things? (3) What kind of attitude do I need to welcome such a privileged encounter?

Jesus decided to go to Galilee. Finding Philip, Jesus called him, “Come Philip, follow me.” Philip, who hails from the fishing village of Bethsaida (means house of fishing), in turn calls Nathanael to go with him and see with their own eyes the one Great Thing from Nazareth, about whom was written in the law by Moses and prophesied by the prophets.

Nathanael, thinking out loud, said such disparaging words: “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” Philip said to him, “Just come with me and see.”

Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him and said of him, “Here is a true child of Israel who comes with no deceit.” Surprised, Nathanael retorted, “How do you know me?” Jesus replied, “Before Philip called you, I saw you under the fig tree.” (The fig tree is a place for worship among Israelites.) Nathanael, roused and now with eyes opened, answered him, “Rabbi, you are the Son of God; you are the King of Israel.”

Jesus answered and said to him, “Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than this. Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see the sky opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

(1) Jesus calls me to see greater things that are to come.

Nathanael approached Jesus blindly, without much thought about the things that came
out of his mouth. He did not see the person of Jesus, the Great Thing who was right there face to face with him.

I can identify with Nathanael during those many times that I failed to see and relish Great Things that came to me. They fleetingly pass my trail without a notice. How many of such things have come already and how many of these did I see and savor with my own senses?

Jesus is the Great Thing who bids me, and summons me to open my eyes before him. But how? When does Jesus come to me?

(2) How or when will I see such great things?

Jesus comes to me everyday, every moment, in the suddenness of things, and in moments when I least expect him to happen.

Such is the nature of the calling, it comes suddenly and unexpectedly, but constantly, in each fleeting moment. Yesterday’s Gospel was the calling of the first disciples Andrew and Peter, now it is Philip and, in a special way, Nathanael; all of which did not expect such great privilege, gift to come to them. They simply were called with the element of being surprised, being roused from their prejudices.

(3) What kind of attitude do I need in order to welcome such a privileged encounter?

Therefore, what will be the attitude that I should cultivate and nurture in myself so that I can become more keen and ready to welcome whenever Jesus comes to me?

But I should remember also that such an encounter will always be a gift that is unearned. But is it possible to receive it? Can I do something?

Let us go back to the Gospel which provides for us an answer.

I am invited to become like Nathanael. Very honest and without deception. He came to Jesus for who and what he was, in his blindness. In the first place it was Jesus who spoke well of him when he said, “Here is a true child of Israel who comes with no deceit.” Jesus in the end was the one who helped him out of his questioning and blind disposition. Jesus comes very fair, he met Nathaneal in his own terms.

Therfore, I am not to be afraid if often times I approach Jesus in different ways—carelessly, indifferently, blindly, expectantly, impatiently, thoughtlessly, sleepily, drunkenly, limitedly and fearfully. In the end, I have full faith that it will be Jesus who will show me the way where I could meet and encounter his loving presence more.

The Work of Christmas

When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoners,
To rebuild the nations,
To bring peace among people,
To make music in the heart.

To me this song adapted from a poem by Howard Thurman pictures a Christmas that does not have an ending…

Not when we have opened the gifts we received and tried them all on,
Or when we have kept the embellishments back into the storage room
Or when we stop playing soothing Christmas hymns
Or when we go back to our rapidly moving regimen
Or when we have changed the cheerful red and green trapping
Or when we have written our friends and loved one our heartfelt greeting.

There are people—those lost, broken, hungry, imprisoned, separated.
Maybe their very longed for 1st Christmas has yet to come.
Or maybe many have long given up that elusive Christmas dream.

Now tell me if you too think that the work of Christmas never ends,
Or where it ends, it begins again "like the waves in the ocean," then you have the message of the song in your heart.
Follow its music’s rhythm, rests, anticipations and even the hesitations. There is something in the music rousing us from our post Christmas slumbering.

“There is something in every one of you that waits and listens for the sound of the genuine in yourself. It is the only true guide you will ever have. And if you cannot hear it, you will all of your life spend your days on the ends of strings that somebody else pulls.” Howard Thurman (American Theologian, Clergyman and Activist, 1900-1981)

Painting by Gordon Mitchell