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Showing posts with label Catholic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Catholic. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Priest for Self or Priest for Christ?

As a young boy, he was attracted to the priesthood. The reverence that came with it, and the cars the priests rode in. He had seen old women who couldn't walk, 'crawl' to greet young priests.
"These folks wield a lot of power", he said to himself. Invincible creatures.
But then he thought to himself, "Am I going to be a priest for self, or a priest for Christ?
A priest for self is the individual who enters the priesthood because of personal gains, or because people tell him, the 'profession' fits him.
A priest for Christ, on the other hand, is an individual with a burning passion for God's kingdom. He seeks to win souls while he works in the Lord's vineyard. This individual had a call from God.
The priest for self had no call  from God, but wants to be part of His workforce regardless.
He's still contemplating which of these personas to choose.

Saturday, January 5, 2013

Measure of sprituality?

I then saw the woman move swiftly out of her line, and join the queue going to the Bishop for communion! "A christian mother!", I thought to myself.
This wasn't the first time I've seen such a move in a Catholic Church. Folks abandon queues that lead to people they feel are 'less spiritual'. It seems to me they have a hidden metric for measuring spirituality: Eucharistic Ministers < Priests < Bishops < Arch Bishops < Cardinals < The Pope.
I only wonder if spirituality can be measured. Can it?

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

When innocence meets faith

I remember a childhood experience that always puts me in a pensive mood. I was eleven years old (I think).

I had been feeling a bit nauseous in the morning prior to a music rehearsal, and almost decided not to go for the rehearsal. I went all the same -- with my brother, Samuel.

After the rehearsal (which was held in our instructor's house), I felt really weak. The mother of our instructor felt my pain and did something that still overwhelms me. She brought a glass of water -- with the Holy Rosary in it, and asked me to drink it! It felt awkward. She calmly handed me the glass and asked that I have faith while drinking the water.

The innocent child in me trusted her -- and in the Immaculate Conception. I drank the water and felt the same, though the nauseousness had reduced.
I thanked her and left with my brother for our home.

Before we boarded a cab, I spewed. That was it. I felt relieved and even played with my friends when I got home.

How I miss that innocence!