Novena to St Jude and other spiritual chain letters

I found myself last week getting flustered over something that seems to be a common ‘phenomenon’ in Singapore churches. I discovered stacks of photocopied “Novena to St Jude” placed conspicuously amongst the other brochures, forms and parish bulletins.

St Jude is one saint who is often called the Patron Saint of Hopeless Cases, and was one of the 12 apostles of Christ. St Jude is often invoked when times are desperate because of his New Testament letter that encourages the faithful to persevere when times are harsh or when circumstances are tough.

I have no problems with devotions and novenas, when prayed properly and understood with a mature faith. However, I find my spiritual blood pressure rising when I read some of these devotions and find that their original intention (which is always good) have been twisted or deformed into something that reeks of superstition and something that enchains rather than frees. And the stack of the Novena to St Jude was one such glaring example.

The prayer asks that the person make 9 copies of the prayer and leave it in church for 9 consecutive days, before the petition will be granted. That means leaving 81 (at least) photocopied sheets in a public place. Imagine if there are 10 such people observing the same thing? Wouldn’t that litter our churches to no end?

I discarded the stack of paper immediately to be recycled, and after I cooled down a bit, I chose to look at the heart of the person who resorted to this act, and what must have driven him or her to comply with such a strange request. Obviously, this person was desperate, but over what, no one but God would know.

9 copies of a prayer, for 9 days in a church? What gives? I can only think of one thing that this kind of diligence is trying to do, but it involves not the use of our modern technology of printing or photocopying, but actually using our hands to write each long novena prayer out.

It doesn’t take long for us to press “9 copies” on the photocopy machine. But try writing those long prayers out by hand, and meditating on your request and your needs with each stroke of the pen. Perhaps what this novena was actually trying to do was to make the writer or petitioner think deeply about what his or her needs were, and why he or she has been led to that point of time in his or her life.

I imagined someone having a very difficult relationship with his spouse or her mother-in-law, and was desperate to get to a better ‘space’ in the relationship. He or she has tried so many ways to get them to change, but has failed. In actually writing this out 81 times, one will inevitably think about one’s own choices, one’s actions, one’s own reactions and yes, even how one may have contributed to the situation at hand. And this is where the grace of God comes is. When one’s heart and mind becomes supple and yes, even malleable, conversion can happen. This is when God and man’s path meet. This must be the miracle point.

But when one simply uses the photocopy machine and churns out 81 (or more, just in case) there is hardly any space or time for that conversion experience that unfortunately, requires of us so much more in terms of heart and will. In some ways, we really have become victims of technological advancement, haven’t we?

And why place these in a church? I can only see that the person has to invoke the prayers of a gathered community who is willing to spend some time and heart with a fellow Christian who is pining for God’s grace in life.

Will I ever see 81 handwritten prayers like this? I doubt it. Why? Not because I don’t think people can be desperate, but because I believe in God’s mercy on brokenness. When one really articulate one’s needs and brokenness on paper, revealing oneself to the community at prayer, one will definitely find another heart, another person who will walk that journey with you, and conversion will begin to take place.

Having said this, I don’t think I will have seen the last of the photocopied novenas to St Jude in my parish.