Faith, Spirit & Song

I did the reading at Mass this morning – it was a long reading… I often wonder if people get tired of listening to long readings. Then this gentleman whom I meet often at church came to say that he loved listening to the reading today. That he felt like he absorbed it. I was touched.

‘Touched‘

That was what the underlying theme in today’s Gospel was. I had prepared for my reading, so I was attuned to the Gospel reading as well. Interestingly, alongside the harmonized synergy between my Mass Companion reflection and Fr. Britto’s homily, he began to speak about Choices. For a moment, I wondered where I had very recently spoken about choices – it wasn’t in the Mass context surely… and then I remembered!

It was a dear friend’s Instagram post where she shared about her little daughter’s choice to step into bath water that wasn’t cold enough. The little story & lesson was deeply moving. We are presented with choices everyday – sometimes they are actionable choices, other times they are just choices in attitude.

In Vedanta I had studied that a core quality to inculcate is titiksha – fortitude. As Catholics, we believe that to be a gift of the Holy Spirit. We are called to patiently endure those situations where we really cannot do anything. We have a choice, to bear suffering with grace, humility and fortitude… or we can choose to kick, scream, and curse in vain.

Offer it up, I say! That’s a phrase I read somewhere and loved it… I keep it handy. With the way life has unravelled for me, I think I have always been presented with opportunities to choose. Mostly it has been the choice of attitude, with or without an action to go with it.

Today, however, choice aside, I wondered about the message of hope we received through the Homily. I wondered if we were only left with the hope that, like the leper, we would be cleansed; we would be the recipients of Jesus’ mercy. Our prayer and hope was for mercy and compassion alone.

So my mind jumped to the first reading – the one that I had just read out – where the Israelites had brought out of the Ark to be with them in support against the war with the Philistines. Was that faith, or was it a party trick of sorts? And it backfired, didn’t it?

Jumping back to our hope in Christ’s compassion… Are we called to humbly ask in prayer for compassion and the healing of our wounds? or are we called to humbly believe in being cleansed and healed, choosing to be cleansed and healed… and then, again choosing to reach out and touch those around us who need cleansing and healing.

I was curious – had I not had the Mass Companion with me to nudge this thought, would I have gone beyond I-me-myself and reached out to touch another person by being more Christ-like?

As if to close the loop, yesterday’s Gospel reflection ended on a supportive note that said,

‘Jesus offers to help us silence the demons that keep trying to prevent us from living out our purpose. And He encourages us to start small, with the one person He puts in front of us each day who needs to know Jesus.’

So there you have it! We are called, and given opportunities every day to emulate Jesus. One person at a time.

I paused to think of all the people who came into my life with whom I shared my creativity, joy, positive spirit…. and felt good about myself. But was that really enough? And out of that question came another thought, ‘Is my compassion only for others?

Motherhood had put me, first and foremost, or a very challenging path – to discover my own spiritual life, with all its flaws, through parenting my children. My biggest struggles this past year were with my youngest, but something had shifted over the past few weeks for the better. And as I jotted down my thoughts and reflections after Mass this morning, I realised that the answer to my question was that while Motherhood taught me acceptance and compassion, it started at home. It started with my son. It had to.

So in closing, choice & touch – key themes today, brought to mind little moments of yesterday. My son came to lie beside me on my bed. I remember rubbing his ankle as he placed his leg on my hip – a random action of familiarity between mother and son – done in silence, or while being preoccupied with something else. He didn’t stay for much longer after that, but it was just that – a touch… that feels closer, calmer, soothed and comforted. And I remembered.

We have a choice, and we have a choice to be kind.