My dearest son,
At the tender age of three, you’re pretty young, and I’m quite amazed at how you’ve already come to understand many things about the world. But there is still so much to learn. In the years to come, there are some precious lessons about life you will need to acquire. And I’m noting them down now also as a reminder to myself to not forget to teach you these critical truths along the way.
I am aware that I am posting this reflection up somewhat a day late by the measurement of our liturgical lectionary. But this reflection is something that has been brewing in my mind all day as I went about performing my obligations for the day.
The words of our Lord Jesus in the Gospel reading earlier today sustained my attention: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest” (Mt 11.28-30).
Here is an important announcement for those who have not yet participated in my course entitled "What's the Difference? Catholics, Orthodox and Protestants" but who wish to do so.
With the Catholic Church’s recent response to the Traditional Anglicans, people have become increasingly curious about the differences in the practices and beliefs of the Catholic, Orthodox and Protestant Christians.
Pope Francis is the second Supreme Pontiff to whom I have pledged my obedience since my entry into full communion with the Holy Catholic Church. I do not like him. He unsettles me.
I do not like the fact that he refuses to live in his Apostolic Palace, that he dresses down and that he braves through a torrential rain on his pope mobile just to meet the crowd in St Peter's Square during his papal audience. I do not like it at all. Because when he does such things, it shakes the equilibrium of my expectations towards people who are in authority and who are supposed to be personifications of greatness.
I do not like it when he does things that I would not have personally wanted to do had I been the pope. He is... unbecoming of a pope.
Just do good, and we'll find a meeting point, says Francis in marked departure from Benedict's line on non-Catholics
The recent “Tsunami Cina” and “Apa lagi Cina mau?” rhetoric has deeply saddened my heart. I have never in my life seen the Malay race as a race so segregated from my own daily life, and for the first time and on such an official basis, I am dejected by my own fellow citizens – no more and no less, by the highest ranking people governing the nation.
I live among many Malays who are peaceful and are, like my own family, trying to earn a livelihood and raise their children in the most honest way they know how. They are very religious people who consistently perform their daily solat at the surau just across my house, and for that, they have my utter admiration.
If, like me, you have been anxiously following the results of the 13th Malaysia General Election, last night was probably a much less restful night than usual. I found myself tossing and turning in bed and my mind was racing ad infinitum. But I woke up this morning with a few lessons learnt from the reflections that involuntary took place throughout the night.
Lesson One: No One Man Can Save a Nation. I think many of us who want a change for a better Malaysia have fallen into the trap of relying on several good men to rescue the nation from its current predicament. More than that, many of us have aligned ourselves to the promises of particular political parties.
As many of you would have known, from 1 to 15 April, I journeyed with 39 other pilgrims (all together making up 40 people in the group) to the biblical lands of Greece and Turkey. Some might say that a two-week journey like this would be nothing more than a whirlwind tour, but because our trip was rather focused, it was actually very targeted and therefore quite relaxing. I did not return as exhausted as I did last year when going for the pilgrimage to Italy.
Sounds of the Filipino people singing have always stirred me and drawn me towards the language of the heart. I cannot remember when it was that I started discovering my love for the Filipino voice. They sing and they love what they sing, and often, they mean what they sing. I have always entertained a secret notion that God created this race of people to sing to the world.