Surprising Grace

Of late I have been thinking quite a bit about being alive. A group of young women I have been journeying with have recently started reading a book on sexuality, whose first chapter takes us through the cosmic origins of human love. 13.8 billion years ago, most scientists agree, the universe was born in an immense explosion of creative energy - a phenomenon we call the Big Bang. In the time that passed, stars came into being, matter cooled to form planets, and after an immensely long time, life began on the planet we know as Earth: the first single cells, the ancient sea plants, eventually animals, and then the early humans. You might be surprised to know that, if we used a calendar month to represent all the time that has passed since the moment of creation, the entire history of human civilisation as we know it can be compressed into the last minute of the last day.  Our lives are but the blink of an eye on this cosmic scale. And yet how unfathomably wonderful it is that it has t...

Our guest writer is Afra fcJ, who lives in Manila. Read her last post "To Be Humble and Not Know It!" here . TO HOPE MEANS... When the destruction is so overwhelming –           from smoky mountains of garbage and plastics,           to floods and uncontrollable forest fires,           and global warming – When divisions intensify (in families, work places, schools, the Church, and all around us),           radicalism is getting stronger and more powerful           and terrorism, violence           and harsh and doubting words even from those closest to me fill the air –   To hope means           to choose not to be paralyzed by the size of the problem           not to close my eyes to the reality – both local and global –       ...

Road to the Holy Sepulchre Our guest writer this week, Grace, is a Singaporean Roman Catholic. Her last post on this blog reflected on four years of law school. One and a half years later, she tries her best to capture her experience on "Sequela Christi": a Franciscan pilgrimage for young adults through the Holy Land, Rome, and Assisi. The photographs accompanying this post are her own.  ***** Road to the Holy Sepulchre 5.25am. I (not a cold-weather person by any means, and definitely not an early-morning person) trundle out of the hotel in the cold, my hands encased in gloves and shoved into my jacket pockets. I am joined by a few pilgrims, but for the most part, we’re too tired to talk. As we walk away from the hotel and get closer to our destination, the stones beneath our feet get older, our path more steeped in history. When, for a brief moment, we make a wrong turn in one of the Old City’s many alleyways, the brief sight of another group of foreigne...

This is Part III of a reflection on what it means for me to be a young FCJ in today's world. Read Part I here and Part II here .  ***** 3. People of Our Time A short piece in the local newspaper about millennials and burnout caught my attention a few days ago. On doing further research I discovered the hypothesis made by some commentators that “millennials” suffer from a type of burnout specific to their generation. In a nutshell, this generation has – because of the expectations placed on them by society, and the prevalence of communications technology – internalized the idea that they must always be working, and that it is not enough just to be “average”, but they must always strive to be the best. As a result, they overcommit, work too much, are unable to relax without feeling guilty or thinking of what they should do next, and are more prone to mental health issues such as anxiety and depression. Whether or not I am a “millennial” at age 32 depends...

A few weeks ago, the day after Christmas, one of my friends was telling me about her celebrations and ended off saying, “My heart is full!” I smiled on hearing that. What a lovely way to describe the overflowing blessings of a grateful heart! I’m sure the end of the last year brought similar sentiments to many people. I always enjoy our FCJ community’s celebration of Christmas here in Manila as it gives us many opportunities to share joy and special moments with people around us. This year, there was plenty of joy to be had in the smiling faces, cheerful sounds and delicious smells of the season, but what touched me most was several encounters we had that revealed a little of the wonder and vulnerability of humanity. One of these encounters took place when our community went carolling in a hospital with some of the young people with whom we work. Our objective was to bring some joy and sympathy to those patients and their families who had to spend the Christmas season in hospita...

Here we are again at that strange, blessed in-between time, between the old year and the new. I always appreciate this interval between the busy-ness of Christmas and the welcoming of the new year – a kind of fallow space in which to gather the blessings of the year that has passed, and listen to the new hopes and dreams emerging in our hearts for the future. It is a time for gratitude, and also for renewing our commitment to what truly matters. As I looked back over this year, this passage from Rainer Maria Rilke’s “ Letter to a Young Poet ” spoke particularly to me: You ask whether your verses are good. You ask me. You have asked others before. You send them to magazines. You compare them with other poems. … I beg you to give up all that. You are looking outward, and that above all you should not do now. Nobody can counsel and help you, nobody. There is only one single way. Go into yourself. Search for the reason that bids you write; find out whether it is spreading out its ro...

All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation by our God. Sing joyfully to the Lord, all you lands; break into song; sing praise. (Psalm 3b-4) The readings at Christmas are full of joy that seemingly cannot be contained. Our God has done a new thing, they proclaim – Christ has come! Of all the readings, though, my favourite is this more solemn passage of John’s: What came to be through him was life, and this life was the light of the human race; the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. (John 1: 3b-5) A light that the darkness does not overcome: that is the hope that Christmas brings to me. Our violent, divided world – and our wounded, fickle hearts – are, incredibly, the darkness into which God’s everlasting light has come, in the form of a small child. Christmas then is a yearly reminder to us of that incredible truth that God has chosen to become incarnate in the messiness of our lives, and thus given it infinite value. Daniel O’Lear...

This poem is by Agustina Hartini fcJ and translated by Audrey. The original Indonesian is below. Good Shepherd, When I see the way you walk, I am amazed When I hear the way you talk, I am hypnotized When I follow your steps… I stagger to left and right But your gaze is enough to make me rise again And keep walking with you My name is Hartini; you don’t need to change it to win my heart. ***** Gembala yang baik Saat ku lihat caramu berjalan, aku terkesima Saat ku dengar caramu berbicara, aku terhipnotis Saat kuikuti langkahmu, . . .  aku terbanting ke kanan dan ke kiri namun cukup dengan tatapan matamu membuat aku bangun kembali dan berjalan terus bersamamu Namaku Hartini, tak perlu Kau menggantinya tuk dapatkan hatiku.

This poem is by Agustina Hartini fcJ and translated by Audrey. The original Indonesian is below. So deeply touched is my heart to see your face What relief to find a stopover place It is enough to sleep soundly for one night After enjoying an evening meal. Tomorrow… whatever The day after… leave it The future… we surrender it Do I dare to hope… maybe not Do I dare to step forward… I don’t know the way Do I dare to change… I don’t know what should be changed. ***** Hatiku trenyuh melihat wajahmu Wajah kelegaan temukan persinggahan Cukup satu malam tidur nyaman Setelah menikmati makan malam. Besok, . . . entahlah Lusa, . . . . biarlah Masa depan, . . .  kami pasrah Apakah berani berharap, . . . rasanya tidak Apakah berani melangkah, . . . ku tak tahu arah Apakah berani berubah, aku tak tahu apa yang harus diubah.

This poem was penned by Agustina Hartini, an FCJ sister living and teaching in Ende, Flores (Indonesia), and translated by Audrey.   Finally I realise: that life is not like a river Bringing water continually to lower ground, flowing and flowing. It is actually a climb: the higher you climb, The stronger the wind, the colder the air – But at dawn, beauty without compare. As I climb, I search for your banner I measure the length and breadth of your path I guess at the colour of your clothes I count the number of your followers – And I find nothing, other than your footprints. ***** Akhirnya aku tersadar, bahwa hidup tidak seperti sungai yang terus membawa air ke tempat yang rendah, mengalir dan mengalir saja. Ternyata hidup adalah pendakian, semakin tinggi mendaki, semakin terasa angin menerpa, semakin dingin terasa, namun diawal hari ditemukan keindahan tiada tara. Dalam pendakian ini, Aku mencari bendera panjimu Aku mengukur leba...