Grace and wild flowers

From left to right: red poppies in Northern Spain; seaside daisies in San Diego; bluebonnets in Houston

Since late-March I have been drawn to wild flowers. In Texas, bluebonnets captured my attention. I spent an afternoon sitting among bluebonnet patches in Hershey Park along Buffalo Bayou in Houston, talking to a friend about life. In San Diego, everyday I sat on the front patio of my parents' home, bedazzled by the carpet of purple seaside daisies. In the Pinnacles National Monument south of San Jose, I noticed how California poppies dotted the landscape along the trails. On the Camino de Santiago in Northern Spain, wild flowers were almost omnipresent, blooming everywhere, despite clouds that shrouded much sunlight. The red poppies that blanketed the rolling hills near the town of Santa Domingo de Calzada reminded me of the way golden poppies cover the soft hills of California. In the Alps near Munich a multitude of wild flowers grow. Again, despite rainy weather this week on the Bavarian countryside, wild flowers abound. Thus, I cannot help but run into wild flowers these past three months.

Likewise, I cannot help but run into grace these past three months, in a similar way that I encounter wild flowers. This "coincidence" prompts me to observe the following similarities. Like wild flowers, grace "pops" up everywhere; it blossoms "wildly," so to speak. Like the wind which no one can "tell where it comes from and where it goes," grace blooms wherever the Spirit blows (Jn 3:8). In unexpected places, in surprising ways, with unpredictable logic. And like wild flowers, grace brings about a discovery. We notice life - beauty, meaning, and goodness - that has lain dormant. We discover more beauty, deeper meaning, or greater goodness in places and experiences that previously seemed like ugliness, dead winter, only with suffering, without meaning. Grace ushers "new" life that we may have missed along the way. A dear friend puts it charmingly: "I was so happy to see bluebonnets grow along the side of a ditch, adorning and making a little ugly ditch look so pretty!"

Thus grace, like wild flowers, appears everywhere, in any circumstance, bringing about life or beauty in surprising ways. Just as it's improper to domesticate wild flowers, it's also not proper for us to grow, bring about, or make grace happens. It's better to allow ground for wild flowers to grow and space for grace to flow. It's better to discover them with a spirit of openness rather than a mindset that predicts, expects, or forces.

This year, I am very blessed to travel through three Continents. From adventures in Asia to experiencing Europe (for the first time). Perhaps it has been easier for me to notice because the period of April-June is springtime in the US as well as in Europe. Perhaps my time through Tertainship has brought about a springtime in my spiritual life.

Yet, regardless of the seasons in nature or those of our spiritual lives, wild flowers dot both our physical terrains and inner landscapes. Grace is present. It may be more difficult to spot wild flowers and grace as summer approaches. (Yesterday, June 21st, officially marked the beginning of summer). Yet, they are still present, hidden beneath things or disguised behind tough or painful experiences. Grace abounds.

Let us be surprised by grace. Let us put aside 10' of silence for prayer or reflection each day so we might be surprised by grace. Let us treat one another in ways that make room for wild flowers. Let us be surprised by grace.

Being a tourist or a pilgrim?

Today, I left the Camino (the Way) on foot and shifted to being a pilgrim by bus and train. Because I need to visit a Đồng Hành-CLC in Munich, I am traveling to Burgos by bus and to Santiago by train.

Interesting, I notice my attitude begins to shift. I find myself becoming more of a tourist as I leave the Camino. I find myself more demanding, more anxious, and easily irritable. For example, I catch myself complaining because the new hostel is not as comfortable as the previous one. I am disappointed because the rain makes it more difficult to visit an ancient monastery; yet a similar kind of rain did not phase me on the Camino a few days ago, even though we plodded through mud and puddles. As I visited the magnificent Cathedral of Burgos, I found myself faced with a pull and tug within. On the one hand, I just wanted to be present and soak in the holy site; on the other hand, I find myself wanting to take pictures to capture the experience. My rationale goes like this, "I'll just take as many pictures as I can so I can enjoy them later..." Whereas the previous day, my companion and I witnessed the following scene ...

Captivated by its grandeur, we simply enjoyed and cherished the moment. We did take pictures while verbally stating what was on our minds: "A picture can never capture the scope and depth of reality, or the experience ..."

I wonder about this shift in attitude. Then I remember the following words written on the walls of the abergue in Azorfra: "The tourist demands; the pilgrim thanks."

How true. Although there is nothing wrong with being a tourist, there are marked differences. A tourist has more things in his/her luggage than needed, for bags can be checked in. A pilgrim takes only the essentials, because he/she has to carry everything on back. A tourist is focused on destinations, to cover a list of sites to see, things to do. The pilgrim needs to focus mainly on the path. A tourist is more easily tempted to complain and demand proper service entitled to the greater money spent. A pilgrim is more likely to accept things as they come, simply because he/she did not pay much for them.

The above contrasts highlight a key difference in attitude. That of trust. The pilgrim mindset tends to trust that God knows best and will bring about what is best. The tourist mindset tends toward greater self-reliance. I don't mean a black and white distinct such that the pilgrim is purely passive and the tourist is entirely active. Both have to plan. There is a dance here between taking initiative and relying on grace. The difference lies in where one puts one's trust. In oneself or in God? Yes, I need to plan, but do I put more trust in my own abilities or do I trust that God knows best and will bring about what is best, despite the best of my intentions (or others' intentions).

It's like the difference between expectation and hope. When we expect, we rarely trust. When we expect something, we have particular ideas about how it will turn out: there is a specific set of outcomes we want to see happen. Whether we are aware of them or not, we feel disappointed or even disillusioned when these expectations are not met. When we hope, we are trusting in God’s goodness, to provide what is best for us. It is more open-ended.

Five days on the Camino gives me a taste of a genuine pilgrim, of adopting such an attitude. On the Camino, one really needs to focus on walking each day. Taking in the beautiful scenery, visiting ancient churches, talking to people, enjoying local cuisine are all nice. But first, one needs to focus on walking, on taking step-by-step, and the care of one's back, knees, feet, of having enough water, or making to the next village in time to check into a hostel. The very basics of walking the path. Everything else becomes secondary. What a wonderful corrective to the tourist mindset of needing accomplish everything on the to-do list, things that are really secondary. Hence, it's easier for the pilgrim to give thanks, for all is GIFT. And easier for the tourist to demand, because of expectations, appropriate or unrealistic ones.

Walking the Camino day in and day out deepens this mindset: focusing on the path today, walking each step, trusting God's goodness to care for whatever I need to live today. This is what pilgrims and people since ages past meant by trusting in Divine Providence. I am grateful for these days on pilgrimage. It's easier to learn on foot, but also possible to learn through other means.

It is not realistic for us to expect ourselves to be like a pilgrim on the Camino, given our busy, hectic pace of life. However, we can simply ask for the gift of trust, to let go of things that make us overly worried today, and to acknowledge the need to be saved from over-worrying. I remember that helpful prayer the priest prays out loud after the Our Father during Mass: "Deliver us Lord, from every evil and grant us peace in our day. In your mercy, keep us free from sin and protect us from all anxiety, as we wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen."

Everyday, you and I have this choice: will I walk this day with an attitude of a pilgrim or that of a tourist?

"Buen Camino!"

"Buen Camino!" is Spanish for "Bon Voyage" or literally "Good Way". It is especially used to greet pilgrims on the Camino de Santiago, Europe´s most ancient and famous pilgrimage. I finished my fourth of seven days on this typically 30-day journey on the Camino Frances, a 480 miles trek from the French border to Santiago de Compostella, where St James the Apostle is believed to be buried.

For over 1,000 years, all sorts of people have embarked on this adventure: the young, the older, the physically fit or otherwise, the spiritual, the religious, the adventurous, the home-bound, prompted by a multitude of reasons. I have met people from all Five Continentes and various walks of life: Anglican priests, Buddhist enthusiasts, devout Catholics, thoughtful atheists. Some have a clear idea why they are on this journey. Most have only a vague notion. Many of us have a strong yet unconscious motivation why we are on this pilgrimage. It´s usually after a few days - perhaps a week - on the journey, when the newness of the adventure wears off, when our bones are bruised, our muscles ache, our feel calloused with blisters, and our knees beg for rest, that deeper questions begin to emerge. The inner search takes a turn.

As for me, I initially wanted to join Paul Malvaux SJ, a brother Jesuit Tertain, as a way to celebrate my 10th Anniversary of priesthood and to listen further to how the Lord is inviting me to serve in the years to come. Yet, the deeper reason(s) remains an elusive mystery to me.

Something interesting is emerging however. I am discovering that many, if not most pilgrims, do not embark on this way primarily because of religious reasons. Some examples: a twenty-three year-old Korean young woman wants to clear her head, perhaps clouded by an early onset of "quarter life crisis". She shared, without knowing that my companion and I are priests, that she is struggling with her Catholic faith. An older man from La Reunion (Africa) unfamiliar with Jesuits asked us if we believed in Jesus Christ. Many pilgrims go to Mass at night a receive a special blessing, whether they are Catholic or not, mixed with curiosity and hesitation of what the blessing may do to them. A middle age woman from Korea was moved to tears when she received such a blessing for the first time in her life. Another group of four Catholic pilgrims from France asked us to celebrate the Eucharist with them, albeit only half of them regularly attends Mass.

Regardless of relgious persuasion, most people seem to be looking for some sort of inner transformation. Many have written testimonies of the remarkable change in them after finishing the Camino. Such witnesses clearly influence the underlying intentions of most pilgrims. (A big reason many Koreans are undertaking the Camino is because a Korean author recently wrote a popular book on his experience on the Way). However, more than a few have written of disappointments after walking the Camino. My companion Paul, who has completed 70 of his 90-day pilgrimage from Belgium, shared this observation: "The key is attitude. I have seen people who are incredulous of faith open up along the way, especially through interactions with other pilgrims. Their openness allows transformation to take place. The difference is how one approaches this question: Am I open to what is to come on the way?"

The Camino symbolizes our pilgrimage in life, for all of us are on a unique path, walking at our own pace and fashion. Walking today in the rain and mud reminds me of a similar experience in the mountain province of Kalinga in the Philippines. What I am discovering now depeens what I have been taught about trusting in Divine Providence last December: am I open to being transformed as I walk my way, toward what is to come?

Yesterday was the Feast of the Sacred Heart. I was struck by the first reading of God´s love that seeks out each of us pilgrims: "As a shepherd keeps all his flock ... I myself will pasture my sheep, I myself will show them where to rest - it is the Lord who speaks. I shall look for the lost one, bring back the stray, bandage the wounded and make the weak strong. I shall watch over the fat and healthy. I shall be a true shepherd to them" (Ex 34:15-16). The Gospel further emphasized this commitment of God in Jesus, the Good Shepherd whose care for each person moves him to "leave the ninety-nine [sheep] in the wilderness and go after the missing one till he found it ... And when he found it, he would joyfully take it on his shoulders" and gather his friends and neighbors to rejoice, saying "I have found my sheep that was lost" (Luke 15:3-7).

I am moved by the compassion of God. Regardless of where we are in our pilgrimages of life, God in Jesus in willing to journey more that halfway to meet us and bring us home. The more we are "open toward what is to come," the more we will be transformed on the way. Not an easy attitude for me to embrace with consistency. Yet, I am enlivened by the Good News, that while you and I may be searching, lost, stuck, or hesistant, Someone is searching for us ...

"Buen Camino!"

p.s. - I bought my prayer locket with me and continue to pray for those of you listed in the prayer scroll it carries.

Being at home

I was very blessed to be at home for the entire month of May. Much time to rest, to play with my little nieces and nephews, to swim regularly with my dad, to be pampered by my mother and aunts with great Vietnamese food. In all of my 21 years of religious life, I don't remember ever having fantastic Vietnamese dishes on such a regular basis. I was able to celebrate daily Mass with my parents and 2-3 year old nieces and nephews, attend my niece Cece's First Communion as well as my sister My-Loc's Law School Graduation. My home-stay ended with with the move of my brother and his wife to their new home. It was indeed a blessed time for self-care and allowing my family to care for me. Robert Frost speaks of something true when he said that home is a place of rest, a secure place and harbor which we sail into. It is experienced as a place from which we do not want to, or need to, go anywhere. Just to remain at.

Yet, what Martin Luther King said of “church” is also true of home. “It is not the place you go to. It is the place you go from.” To be honest, there was a part of me that wanted not to go anywhere while being at home. I felt like a little kid, a bit lazy, and just wanted to "erect tents" like the disciples after experiencing Jesus' Transfiguration on Mt. Tabor. Like them, I wanted to hang on, to enshrine, my wonderful experience and not venture anywhere else. Isn't this our temptation though, wanting to hold on to cliques and "inner circles" because we feel so comfortable, at home with a group of people? While there is a real value in relishing, enjoying, and savoring these experiences of being at home, we are ultimately called forth from our homes. Perhaps to take what we have been given and foster a sense of home, of belonging, of being loved, beyond our present circle of care and concern. Perhaps this is what Jesus meant in the Last Discourse of John's Gospel when he first invited the disciple to "remain in [his ]love" (Jn 15:9) and soon after he sent them into the world as he is sent by God the Father (Jn 17:14-18). Perhaps this is what St. Ignatius meant when he said "world is our home."

Where or with whom might you & I be invited to remain, and perhaps to go forth from?

Going home?

“Going home?” This was the question an agent asked me while I was passing through US Customs in Canada. It triggered a strand of reflection within me and uncovered a grace.

The theme of “home” has occupied much real estate in my mind lately. Throughout the past two weeks, I have been talking with my Provincial and house superior about where I will live in the next three years. This past weekend, I shared about unconditional love as a “coming home,” in preparation for an upcoming retreat. Just before the inquiry posed by the customs agent, I proposed to a friend some concrete ways how we can support one another to grow in faith and ministry. His peace-filled reply caught me by surprise: “I am at home with what you’re thinking.”

I am going home, to the Murray Jesuit Community in Oakland. Yet, I am leaving it in a week to find home in another community in East Los Angeles. However, a number of factors conspire to prevent me from fully settling in my new house for several months. In particular, I am going home to my family in San Diego for a month. It is the last leg of my nine month Tertainship experience. (This is an unexpected gift since I had not previously imagined being with my family for an extended period, after twenty-one years of short visits.)

In all of the above places, I feel a sense of belonging, familiarity, comfort, and safety. I am grateful I can call these places home. However, there is another level of meaning. Home is more than a physical place; rather, it consists of a web of relationships whereby we are loved and accepted as we are, without condition, without having to deserve, gain, or earn love; it allows us to touch the bedrock of who we are, encourages us to be our truest selves; it is where we feel safe enough to take risks of greater vulnerability or be challenged to grow.

As a Catholic, I am called to find home in Christ, in the church community, in serving others. As a Jesuit, I am invited to find home in community, in mission, on the road, and most importantly, in the heart of Christ. The journey of these eight months, thus far, has allowed me to come home, in all of the senses described above. More than ever, I see my life as a pilgrimage of trust, an adventure home.

When I replied, “Yes, I am going home,” to the cheerful customs agent, I also smiled to myself: “Yes, I am a pilgrim going home.” There is an invitation here, which allows me to rest in gratitude … and beckons me forth in trust …

Friends, where are you going? With whom are you at home … and coming home to?

Arsonist of the Heart

I returned from Manila to celebrate Easter and the wedding of Michelle, my cousin in Texas. I have “lain low” mainly because I feel called to spend time reflecting on the many graces of the past seven months. It is such a blessing to see my family and surprise a few friends. What a delight it is to see reactions of both joy and shock in the people whom I surprised. One person blinked several times to make sure that she wasn't seeing a mirage. Another placed a hand over her heart for a long minute. Perhaps she was checking to see if it skipped a beat or calming its racing rhythm.

It makes me wonder if the disciples who encountered the Risen Jesus experienced something similar: surprised by joy … even shocked by joy.

Paradoxically, I am the one being surprised, even though I am the one surprising others. While I anticipated some people’s reactions, I am surprised at the depth of their responses when they see me. I am shocked at the spontaneous kindness of one couple; I am stunned by how sensitive I am to sadness and suffering. Things seem to hit me more deeply these two weeks back in the US.

The poem below is a bit long. Yet, it may be worth the time set aside for prayer and reflection. It describes three encounters of people with the Risen Jesus, who slowly reveals himself to them in deeper ways. They are recounted in the Gospels of this week: Jn 20:11-18; Jn 21:1-14; Lk 24:13-35.

The Easter Season has 50 days (until Pentecost). It is longer than Lent, to allow ample time and space for us to be surprised or shocked by joy. Join me in letting the Risen One - the God of Surprises, the Arsonist of the Heart - touch us anew.

----------------------------------------------------
Arsonist of the Heart
(by John Shea from The Challenge of Jesus)

Like her friend
she would curse the barren tree
and the glory in the lilies of the field.
She lived in noons and midnites,
in those mounting moments of high dance
when blood is wisdom and flesh love.

But now
before the violated cave
on the third day of her tears
she is a black pool of grief
spent upon the earth.

They have taken her dead Jesus,
unoiled and unkissed,
to where desert flies and worms
more quickly work.

She suffers wounds that will not heal
and enters into the pain of God
where lives the gardener
who once exalted on her perfume,
knew the extravagance of her hair,
and now asks her whom she seeks.

In Peter's dreams
the cock still crowed.
He returned to Galilee
to throw nets into the sea
and watch them sink
like memories into darkness.
He did not curse the sun
that rolled down his back
or the wind that drove
the fish beyond his nets.
He only waited for the morning
when the shore mist would lift
and from his boat he would see him.
Then after naked and impetuous swim
with the sea running from his eyes
he would find a cook
with holes in his hands
and stooped over dawn coals
who would offer him the Kingdom of God
for breakfast.

On the road that escapes Jerusalem
and winds along the ridge to Emmaus
two disillusioned youths
dragged home their crucified dream.
They had smelled messiah in the air
and rose to that scarred and ancient hope
to mourn what might have been.
And now a sudden stranger falls upon their loss
with excited words about mustard seeds
and surprises hidden at the heart of death
and that evil must be kissed upon the lips
and that every scream is redeemed for its echoes
in the ear of God and do you not understand
what died upon the cross was fear.
They protested their right to despair but he said,
"My Father's laughter fills the silence of the tomb."
Because they did not understand they offered him food.
And in the breaking of the bread
they knew the impostor for who he was --
the arsonist of the heart.

After the end
comes the conspiracy
of gardeners, cooks, and strangers.

Easter Sunday: Following Our Quest

“This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad.” – Psalm 118:24

We have completed our Lenten journey and now we come not to the end, but to the beginning of our celebration of the gift by Jesus of Eternal Life. Our Lenten journey ended with the death of Christ on the Cross and his burial in the Tomb. Our Easter journey begins with the Resurrection of the Lord from death into new and eternal life, a promise which is given to us on the day of our Baptism. Sin and death has been conquered and life rules eternally.

The Resurrection was beyond Jesus dying on the cross and then rising again. It was more than His physical sacrifice. It was His blood that forgave us of our sins and gave us new life. Just as Jesus rose again, so shall we by the grace of God. The Resurrection signifies a life about believing and trusting in Him. He rose from the dead to prove that He is alive and now, seated at the right hand of the Father making intercessions for us.

As we receive the Eucharist each time we celebrate mass with Him, may we continue to be mindful that Jesus is living inside of us…always loving, caring and providing. He is alive and we are forgiven and eternally secure. Through the acceptance and practice of forgiveness and believing His word, let us prepare to follow him.

Lord, how can I follow you into the world? What have I learned in this quest to learn to live by the truth? In what ways may our quest continue?

reflected by Tam Lontok

Holy Saturday: Waiting for Grace

We were indeed buried with him through baptism into death. - Romans 6:4

Today we experience the painful waiting between the death of one ideal and the rebirth into something new. The Scriptures have little to say about the thoughts of the disciples that day, but I imagine they were confused and disillusioned. They had ideas of what the Messiah would do, but Jesus was killed before accomplishing them. On this day I see all my shattered expectations and doubts about God. It is my Holy Saturday today. Like the disciples, I am fearful and lonely.

While we feel forsaken, Matthew’s Gospel says, “the earth quaked, rocks were split, tombs were opened, and the bodies of many saints who had fallen asleep were raised.” Christ went to the place of death, could not be contained, and freed the dead to follow Him into paradise. The sadness of Christ’s death becomes mingled with joy over the Resurrection of the dead. The disciples could not know that, far from abandoning them, God had transcended death on their behalf so that he might be with them forever. They must wait for grace until morning.

We come to the Easter Vigil and are met by Christ’s resurrected presence on earth. I need to allow for the death of my own expectations so that I can rest in the presence of God. Sometimes I am too impatient and I see the silence of Holy Saturday as God’s answer. In reality, He is making way for something far greater than I could ever imagine.

God, help me to bury my selfish desires to make way for Your new life. I pray for a cleansed heart. I pray to trust patiently that God is working in my life, even if I cannot see it right now.

reflected by Jen Horan

Good Friday: God's Unconditional Love

"Yet it was our infirmities that he bore, our sufferings that he endured." -Isaiah 53:4

Today, Good Friday, we commemorate the ultimate sacrifice Jesus gave to us on the cross. By sending Jesus to suffer and die for our sins, God reveals His deep love for us. God knows we all face many difficulties in life but His love, which is constantly present inside us, keeps us hopeful and faithful to share the same love God gives with everyone He brings into our lives. The love and sacrifice we offer to friends, family, and to also those who we may not know but are less fortunate than us, is our way of paying forward God’s love, even if those same people have denied or sinned against us.

The difficulties are all part of God’s plan and sometimes the difficulties bring us to our darkest times of sin but it is then when His love for us is the strongest. Internalizing God’s love during these times gives us joy and proves we are special and unique in God’s eyes. Seeing Jesus suffer on the cross encourages us to turn away from sin but we often times forget the true suffering He endured to die for our sins and to ultimately give us salvation. When we see a cross or make the sign of the cross, let us be mindful of God’s unconditional love and the reason why Jesus died on the cross.

How can our actions and words be a reflection of God’s unconditional love? Do we regularly acknowledge God’s love for us?

Lord, thank you for loving me. Transform my heart so I can give the same love unconditionally.

reflected by Greg Lontok

Holy Thursday: Loving Freely and Sacrificially

Jesus answered him, “Unless I wash you, you will have no inheritance with me.”- John 13:1-15

The chapter begins with an expression of love. Knowing His hour had come to pass from this world to the Father, Jesus repeated His teaching by an illustration that impressed it forever on their minds and hearts. It was an act of complete love and dedication for He loved His own world and He loved them to the end. The Greek word for ‘end’ is telos, meaning ‘perfectly, wholly and completely.’

Expressing His oceanic love for us, the journey of Christ had been a life of unselfish service and His emphasis was not on whether we knew about them or understand them, but putting the teaching into practice. He calls on us to serve with humility and love others the same way…freely and sacrificially.

Although we were once washed completely clean at baptism, we will occasionally sin as we walk through this human journey together. We will spiritually get our feet dirty and we will need Christ to wash our feet to make us completely clean again. As Jean Vanier writes: “Forgiveness and celebration are at the heart of the community. We can only truly accept others as they are, and forgive them, when we discover that we are truly accepted by God as we are and forgiven by Him. It is a deep experience, knowing that we are loved and held by God in all our brokenness and littleness.”

“Lord, help me to understand and become compassionate of others by washing away anything I may see wrong and meanwhile, love and accept others as they are part of our family. And I realize I may also have serious faults that I am not conscious of…I trust you to deal with them in my life in due course.”

reflected by Tam Lontok