Can we ever deserve the grace of God?

 In my education and moral education, I have been brought up to understand that we need to work for things that delight us in life.  So, we worked hard in school to get the grades that we wanted to attain, and morally, we would live the kind of life that merits us the blessings and graces that we need to be seen by God as lovable and humble.  But deep down inside, what I never realized is that I nurtured the wrong understanding about the graciousness of God and his love.

 

It only struck me as significant when I was ordained a priest, and started to minister to the people as someone who hears their confessions.  I have often wondered if I was being too liberal in administering God’s mercy and forgiveness when, no matter how heinous the sins were, at the end of the sacrament, I would confer on them the abstinence, restoring them to the grace of God.  Sometimes, the more serious the sin, the more the question would pass my consciousness – am I being too free with God’s mercy to this person?

 

Perhaps part of me had this questionable understanding – we need to be able to deserve the merits of God.  But in truth, grace is not something that we merit in life.  There is this well-known passage in the Gospel, where a rich young man turned down Jesus’ invitation to leave everything and follow him, but Peter, who watched this happening, asked Jesus what those who do give up everything to follow Jesus are going to get in return.  In response, Jesus conveys the parable of the generous land owner and the vineyard workers who were employed at different times of the day, and at the end of the day, all of them were remunerated the same pay regardless of the number of hours they spent laboring in the hot sun.  Those who worked the longer hours in the heat expressed bitterness and unfairness.  In the parable, the vineyard owner (who is God), states that there is no unfairness as everyone has in fact received an over-generous payment.

 

There is a deep lesson in this parable for all of us.  This protestation of unfairness demonstrates that in the end of the world, on judgement day, there will be people who have not been as faithful as we have, but will be still receiving the full mercy and grace of God.  In short, we could be much like the older brother in the parable of the Prodigal Father, who lived in the love and provision of the father, but was either unhappy or felt it unfair that his younger and petulant brother, who returned at the end of his cavorting and self-pleasure, was enjoying the provision of such splendor and comfort by the same father.

 

What if, in all the Catholic funeral Masses that had been celebrated for the deceased believers, there were many who, unbeknownst to the celebrant priest, had lived a life of complete selfishness and never went for Masses on Sundays?  Was the priest being too liberal in giving them the funeral that saw them off to either the crematorium or the grave?  Would a priest be punished for being too free in dispensing God’s mercy and forgiveness to sinners?  We will only know when we see our judge at the end of our lives.

 

I don’t want to imagine the effect would have on believers if a priest refused a funeral, perhaps for a person who hadn’t been interested in the church all their lives.  And I wonder how many Catholics, reading this blog reflection, would find this story comforting rather than discomforting and disturbing, especially in the light of the strong ethos of the church today where many are nursing the fear that we may be handing out God’s grace and mercy in a haphazard way. 

 

The painful truth is this – grace and mercy, like love in the truest sense, are never given out cheaply.  And like love, it is never truly merited by the receiver.

How it feels like to be in exile.

 It was back on 9 October, 2009, that I started my blog and named it Reflections and Ruminations.  There’s a common saying that ‘time flies when you are having fun’, and I am wondering if this truism applies to the arduous and onerous work of keeping a blog alive and active.  All I did was to put my thoughts and reflections into print, and I made myself do it regularly, keeping my blog site alive and active.  Although I can’t say that it was fun doing this on a regular basis, I must admit that time literally flew by.  Just looking at the years alone, we are now in the year 2024, and it means that I have written about 15 years’ worth of my spiritual musings and reflections.  I must say I am rather surprised that I have pursued so many years of writing, and I pray that my thoughts have helped my readers to pursue holiness in their own individual lives.

 

Those of you who are in Singapore and have their ear to the ground must know that I have been removed as an assistant priest in the parish of the Immaculate Heart of Mary in Hougang, and have taken residence in the rather new and purpose-built major seminary in the environs of Upper Bukit Timah, just across the road from the Bukit Gombak camp of the Ministry of Defense.  I have been told by the Cardinal to take this time as my removal from parish ministry, and should not, without hitherto permission, celebrate Masses or give talks in the other parishes in the Archdiocese of Singapore. 

 

I have taken those words of advice from the Cardinal seriously, and it has become a habit of mine now to say a ‘no’ to all requests for me to go to parishes to either say Mass or to give spiritual talks.  In the past, my ‘no’ would only be said if the dates asked for were already taken by other appointments.  These days, I don’t even have to check my diary, and the automatic response to the requesters would be an apologetic ‘no’, said in the most courteous and friendly way.  When asked why, my first response is always because I am obedient to my superior, who is the Cardinal Archbishop of Singapore.  I do not resent him for putting me in this position, but deep inside of me, I am thankful that I am given this opportunity to rest and take on the slow road toward recovery from my unfortunate accident, and to slowly regain my strength and energy which took quite a beating from the injury and the surgery that followed it.

 

So here I am, in some form of twilight zone where I am both here and not here at the same time.  I can do one of two things.  Firstly, I can become full of resentment and bitterness to be treated this way, after having been ordained for 24 years to serve as a minister to the lay people of the faith.  Secondly, I can choose to become calm and at peace, taking this time as a precious and very rare form of recollection and rest, and just wait patiently for the next appointment, where, if God wills it, I can become a parish priest of one parish in Singapore.  I look at my own seminary classmates, and all of them are now parish priests.  I seem to be the one that is sadly left on the shelf, leaving many of the priests in the archdiocese wondering why I have been sidelined by the authorities.  If they want to form their own conclusions why I have been excluded in being promoted to being a parish priest, I will let them do so.  I would be taking on so much trouble onto myself if I were to be annoyed and insist that everyone understands my position, or lack of. 

 

Life is often a mixed bag of experiences, and I choose to look at my current situation as one of those experiences that are challenging and difficult to accept positively.  If I could take having Leukemia as a very positive experience, this should not be all that difficult.  If I wanted to be bitter at having Leukemia, I could, because it is a life-threatening illness.  But I chose to take it as one of the many ways that I could offer my life for the benefit and positive effect for the souls in purgatory.  My model for being so positive was, of course, Jesus Christ, who took on the ardor and humiliation of the crucifixion on Calvary, for the benefit of the millions and millions of sinful souls.  I considered myself so blessed to have been given the chance of undergoing a hardship and suffering that others can benefit from. 

 

Exiles can be taken positively, and I choose to take this current exile I am in, as something positive, though in a very hidden way.  You, my dear reader, may be in some form of similar exile in your life, and I want to encourage you to be as positive as you can, and use it as something that helps you toward your goal of heaven and the real presence of Jesus.

 

Negativity can be a form of cancer in life, with many side effects that add pains to punishment, and scars to a healthy body.  We owe it to ourselves to remain always positive in life. 

 

Life is not about feelings.  True, we may experience feelings from time to time.  But like love, it cannot be about feelings.  Love is a decision, and that makes love powerful, because our feelings are temporary and arbitrary as well.  When it is a decision, love becomes powerful.  Let our love for God not be a feeling as well.  God may from time to time delight us with some feelings and sensations, but it is not something that God regularly does.  Make your love for God a decision, and let that chart your course toward heaven become stable and foundational. 

 

If Jesus based his life on this earth on feelings, he could have easily said “this is useless and such a waste of time!” while he was hanging lifeless and brutally injured on the crucifix on Calvary.  Yet, he didn’t.  It was a decision that he made to go through the entire punishing procedure of the crucifixion.  It took courage, and of course, it took not just love, but a massive and life-threatening decision of love. 

 

May you be just as courageous and positive in facing the exiles of your life, and let the courage and determination of Jesus be what spurs you on to bearing the insurmountable burdens in life. 

 

And when we meet each other in heaven after our earthly life ends, let it be something that floods our hearts and minds the greatest joy that we have ever known.  God love you.