“The Not-So-Good Samaritan?”
(Casual Blogging Series #4 – Wednesday, July 8, 2009) – Presidential Election Day
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
I just voted. I won’t tell you whom I voted for, unless…. (sorry, I can’t say it for fear of making hidden campaign). As I was driving home from the election site, watching at my tainted finger, thinking of some other things happened recently in my life, and reflecting on God’s soft whispers I had been hearing during these past weeks, I recalled the story of the Good Samaritan. What really makes this guy “good,” that centuries of generations have been canonizing him as the Good Samaritan? At least, there are two kinds of goodness. I call them, “the goodness of stopping” and “the goodness of moving on.”
That guy saw a wounded man. [Wait a minute, did I tell you it’s in Luke 10:25-37? And make sure you look up for Luke in the New Testament. If you don’t know, you must be a classical Roman Catholic. Oops… Peace!]. He stopped and did everything he could: approached him, poured oil and wine over the wounds, bandaged them, put him on his donkey, brought him to an inn, and might even stay awake all night long to take care of him. All this is his “goodness of stopping.” Yes, he stopped from his routine. He put aside his personal plan and let himself be bothered by the suffering of his fellow human being. He might feel groggy the next day for lack of sleep.
Here comes the surprise. The very next day, he gave two silver coins to the inn-keeper, asked him to take care of the poor guy, promised to give more should it be necessary later on, and… and… and… he took off! Wait a minute. Did he really leave the poor fellow in the hands of a stranger? How did he know that the inn-keeper would really take care of the wounded man? Wasn’t he afraid that the inn-keeper would waste his money for other needs? Well, all we know is that he really took off and left the poor fellow with the inn-keeper. All that he did the next day (and God knows how many more days after that) was his “goodness of moving on.”
I believe that this combination of complementary two kinds of goodness really makes him good! Cross out one of these, and you will have a “not-so-good Samaritan.” He is good because he wants to do good with as much time and energy and love he has. Yet, if he thinks that he is the only one who can do good, and everybody else will never do such goodness, he is not really a good guy. And remember, this parable is Jesus’ way of teaching how we should love others as we love ourselves. This guy is good because he both loves others and himself totally. He doesn’t forget his own needs to do his own business. This is so amazing. Yes, even Mother Teresa had to eat, have some rest, pray, go to Mass. She was a saintly woman, precisely because she loved herself so much and at the same time loved others so much. And think about Pope John Paul the Great who always had time for skiing. He became a saintly man, again, because he loved himself and others so much. That is the real teaching in the parable of the Good Samaritan.
Yet, sadly, many of us practice only the first half of his goodness. Many of us will immerse themselves in helping others without ever loving themselves much enough. Just look around. Wives who tend every single detail of their husbands’ needs, mothers who sweat all day and never believe in trusting their children to stand on their own feet, priests who never eat because they give all his time in ministry, and still many others. I believe, were Jesus here, He would have said, “Well, these people, even the most heroic ones, are in fact the not-so-good Samaritans.”
[Now, just a small note about the election. I put it between brackets. No clear insight yet. When leaders say that they will give themselves up totally for the people’s needs, many ears will hear, ironically, just the second half of the goodness. They probably would never really stop and take care, but simply ask others to do their jobs, and eventually blaming others for not doing their jobs well. I hope I am completely wrong here].
So, just be the really, really, really GOOD Samaritan.
PS. This reflection is inspired by Bo Sanchez’ book “7 Secrets to Real Freedom,” pp. 91-92. If you buy and read this book, tell the author that I mention him here.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Sea of Albs
“Sea of Albs”
(Casual Blogging Series #3 – Wednesday, June 24, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
I was at the Cathedral the other day with our Bishop Cardinal and hundreds of priests. [For you who have never seen so many priests in one place together, it is highly recommended to come to the Chrism Mass during the Holy Week, or to an ordination, either to the diaconate or the priesthood]. Let me tell you a little secret. I usually enjoy such occasion, not for a pious reason at all, but rather a human one. Being among my brother priests is like being immersed in the unconceivable richness of God’s love. How so? Just look around.
You will see very thin priests who make you think that the Church do not feed them enough, but you will also see obese priests who make you think that they have taken more food portions from their brother priests. You will see priests dressed in lousy and wrinkled shirts, but you will also see priests dressed in crispy neatly iron-pressed shirts fresh from a professional laundry. You will see priests with worn-out strap sandals inherited from a deceased elderly priest, but you will also see priests walking around in their shiny Prada shoes. You will see priests with last-century cell-phones heavy like a corner stone, but you will also see priests with the ultimate feather-light model of Blackberry or I-Phone. [Well, if you know me, you can easily tell which category I will fit in]. The list can go endlessly.
Then, it was time for Mass. All took off their shirts and put on their albs. Of course, some look whiter than the others. [If you don’t know what an “alb” is, it’s the “white gown” priests wear while they’re on duty]. I had had that experience of “mass changing room” many times before with my brother priests. Yet for some reasons, it was so touching. Well, after all, we all share the one and same priesthood. That convinced me about my idea of God. For me, one adjective that would perfectly describe God is “crazy.”
God must be crazy. No, I’m not quoting a title of a funny movie decades ago. I’m saying it, because it is this God that appears in my mind every time I think of my priesthood, as well as that of others. Being in the midst of the sea of those white albs brings with it a bit of uneasiness. Yes, we wear white, while we know perfectly how our hearts are so far from white! I began to think that it is white because it is a way of saying how God always sees each and all of us. This is not a self-justification. We priests do need conversion. I’ll be the first who desperately cries to God for another deep conversion. Yet, again, if I think of my priesthood, I know for sure, that my God is indeed a crazy God. There are many good men out there, but why on earth did God pick us?
For you who have been wounded by priests (including me), I ask for your apology. May this “Year of Priests” (from June 19 this year until the same date next year) be a year of profound and sincere conversion for us priests. Believe me, while there are certainly many, many, many, good priests on this planet who far outnumber the bad ones, the idea of becoming good priests can appear to many as counter-cultural. Join us in this not-so-easy journey into the most intimate precincts of the hearts of priests.
(Casual Blogging Series #3 – Wednesday, June 24, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
I was at the Cathedral the other day with our Bishop Cardinal and hundreds of priests. [For you who have never seen so many priests in one place together, it is highly recommended to come to the Chrism Mass during the Holy Week, or to an ordination, either to the diaconate or the priesthood]. Let me tell you a little secret. I usually enjoy such occasion, not for a pious reason at all, but rather a human one. Being among my brother priests is like being immersed in the unconceivable richness of God’s love. How so? Just look around.
You will see very thin priests who make you think that the Church do not feed them enough, but you will also see obese priests who make you think that they have taken more food portions from their brother priests. You will see priests dressed in lousy and wrinkled shirts, but you will also see priests dressed in crispy neatly iron-pressed shirts fresh from a professional laundry. You will see priests with worn-out strap sandals inherited from a deceased elderly priest, but you will also see priests walking around in their shiny Prada shoes. You will see priests with last-century cell-phones heavy like a corner stone, but you will also see priests with the ultimate feather-light model of Blackberry or I-Phone. [Well, if you know me, you can easily tell which category I will fit in]. The list can go endlessly.
Then, it was time for Mass. All took off their shirts and put on their albs. Of course, some look whiter than the others. [If you don’t know what an “alb” is, it’s the “white gown” priests wear while they’re on duty]. I had had that experience of “mass changing room” many times before with my brother priests. Yet for some reasons, it was so touching. Well, after all, we all share the one and same priesthood. That convinced me about my idea of God. For me, one adjective that would perfectly describe God is “crazy.”
God must be crazy. No, I’m not quoting a title of a funny movie decades ago. I’m saying it, because it is this God that appears in my mind every time I think of my priesthood, as well as that of others. Being in the midst of the sea of those white albs brings with it a bit of uneasiness. Yes, we wear white, while we know perfectly how our hearts are so far from white! I began to think that it is white because it is a way of saying how God always sees each and all of us. This is not a self-justification. We priests do need conversion. I’ll be the first who desperately cries to God for another deep conversion. Yet, again, if I think of my priesthood, I know for sure, that my God is indeed a crazy God. There are many good men out there, but why on earth did God pick us?
For you who have been wounded by priests (including me), I ask for your apology. May this “Year of Priests” (from June 19 this year until the same date next year) be a year of profound and sincere conversion for us priests. Believe me, while there are certainly many, many, many, good priests on this planet who far outnumber the bad ones, the idea of becoming good priests can appear to many as counter-cultural. Join us in this not-so-easy journey into the most intimate precincts of the hearts of priests.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
A Split-Second
“A Split-Second”
(Casual Blogging Series #2 – Sunday, June 21, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Remember Naomi, my lovely-black-lady-car? Well, I’ve got a bad news for you. Naomi was hit by a motorcycle. I had switched the left-turn-light on, looked to my left side… clear! I had just made a slight turn to the left when suddenly a motorcycle hit the passenger door from my left side. [Well, I should have known this. Jakarta’s motorcycles are dangerous!]. Still worse, the young man riding it just ran away speeding. Well, at least, it was obvious that he knew he had been guilty. I was so so so angry. [Bad words even came out of my lips. Please don’t tell my Superior].
As I continued driving, my mind immediately began to elaborate a story about the accident. Strangely enough, all I could come up with was a list of that young man’s mistakes. Yet at the same time I knew I was not honest to myself. At last I decided to claim also my own share in the accident. You know what? Just a split-second before the accident I had put down my cell-phone after declining a request for a school Mass. So, yes, the accident took place because I was not completely focused on my driving. I remember I said this to one of my Jesuit brothers. Once I had admitted, “I was distracted by the cell-phone,” I began to feel a deep sense of relief. Peace returned to my heart.
I knew I had learned something precious: as long as I see all the wrong-doings are only somewhere out there, I will never ever gain a true peace within. I was stunned by the fact that I had even been willing to lie to myself about myself. Yes, that’s a sad irony: we are the most dangerous and deadly liars to ourselves. I still wanted to convince myself, “I’m just a victim.” The problem with that statement doesn’t lie on the word “victim,” but on the word “just.” I was in a sense a victim of that reckless motorcyclist, yet I was clearly not just a victim, since I also had my own share in what eventually led to the accident.
I also learned not only to admit that I had been wrong, but more importantly, to own the pain caused by my own mistakes. The beautiful paradox was clear: once I had owned the pain, it immediately disappeared! Just as my mistake took place only in a split-second, so did the healing! But believe it or not, so many people out there prefer to delay [some even until their death!] that split-second of the promised healing. God forgives me. The problem is: I don’t always forgive myself. Bottom line, I still want to be bigger than God. And if this is the case, learning to forgive myself is indeed a very serious business!
(Casual Blogging Series #2 – Sunday, June 21, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Remember Naomi, my lovely-black-lady-car? Well, I’ve got a bad news for you. Naomi was hit by a motorcycle. I had switched the left-turn-light on, looked to my left side… clear! I had just made a slight turn to the left when suddenly a motorcycle hit the passenger door from my left side. [Well, I should have known this. Jakarta’s motorcycles are dangerous!]. Still worse, the young man riding it just ran away speeding. Well, at least, it was obvious that he knew he had been guilty. I was so so so angry. [Bad words even came out of my lips. Please don’t tell my Superior].
As I continued driving, my mind immediately began to elaborate a story about the accident. Strangely enough, all I could come up with was a list of that young man’s mistakes. Yet at the same time I knew I was not honest to myself. At last I decided to claim also my own share in the accident. You know what? Just a split-second before the accident I had put down my cell-phone after declining a request for a school Mass. So, yes, the accident took place because I was not completely focused on my driving. I remember I said this to one of my Jesuit brothers. Once I had admitted, “I was distracted by the cell-phone,” I began to feel a deep sense of relief. Peace returned to my heart.
I knew I had learned something precious: as long as I see all the wrong-doings are only somewhere out there, I will never ever gain a true peace within. I was stunned by the fact that I had even been willing to lie to myself about myself. Yes, that’s a sad irony: we are the most dangerous and deadly liars to ourselves. I still wanted to convince myself, “I’m just a victim.” The problem with that statement doesn’t lie on the word “victim,” but on the word “just.” I was in a sense a victim of that reckless motorcyclist, yet I was clearly not just a victim, since I also had my own share in what eventually led to the accident.
I also learned not only to admit that I had been wrong, but more importantly, to own the pain caused by my own mistakes. The beautiful paradox was clear: once I had owned the pain, it immediately disappeared! Just as my mistake took place only in a split-second, so did the healing! But believe it or not, so many people out there prefer to delay [some even until their death!] that split-second of the promised healing. God forgives me. The problem is: I don’t always forgive myself. Bottom line, I still want to be bigger than God. And if this is the case, learning to forgive myself is indeed a very serious business!
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Silly Corrections
“Silly Corrections”
(Casual Blogging Series #1 – Wednesday, June 10, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
I’m a teacher. Giving exams is always exciting. A lot of good lessons can be drawn. Here’s one. Someone can be so sure with the answer. He or she writes and writes and writes (perhaps with thanksgiving prayer to God and with a stronger belief that those candles lit in front of the statue of Mary really work!). At one point he or she realizes that the answer already written is completely wrong. I can see three options here for this student.
First, he or she can apply the correction liquid to cover all that is written with sheer white coat; then he or she write on it. Problem is, some pens are simply not made to write on those shiny-slippery white coats. Even worse, the first page will not look nice at all to the eyes of the teacher. Second, he or she can simply make a line across the first page and write the right answer on the second page. The wrong answer is still there and can be seen clearly, but that line across the page will tell the teacher not to bother with what is written there. Fair enough. Third, he or she can simply toss the answer sheet to the trash bin, walk to the teacher’s desk, and say “I’ve made mistakes. Could I have a new answer sheet, please?”
Imagine I have three students taking those options respectively. Suppose also that the three of them give the “correct answers.” Well, beyond the grading, I can see at least three different ways of dealing with mistakes. Option one: you focus on the mistakes and have a hard time to brush over them, and then pretend that everything is normal and under control. Option two: you recognize the mistakes, but you still hold on them along the way. Option three: you admit that you’ve made mistakes, focus on the new possibilities in the future, and move on.
Now, you see, that this is actually a miniature of our life-stories? Sadly, I’ve met many good Catholics who opt for number one while dealing with their mistakes. Fewer take number two, and not so many are willingly take number three. Why so? Because in a sense many of us like to feel like heroes or heroines while focusing on the mistakes. Many of us enjoy performing on the life-stage and tell the whole world that we are just victims and that we still desperately wrestle with the mistakes done to us.
We all make mistakes. The difference is, some make silly corrections, while some make smart ones. Whatever you choose, it will determine your life story after the mistakes.
(Casual Blogging Series #1 – Wednesday, June 10, 2009)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
I’m a teacher. Giving exams is always exciting. A lot of good lessons can be drawn. Here’s one. Someone can be so sure with the answer. He or she writes and writes and writes (perhaps with thanksgiving prayer to God and with a stronger belief that those candles lit in front of the statue of Mary really work!). At one point he or she realizes that the answer already written is completely wrong. I can see three options here for this student.
First, he or she can apply the correction liquid to cover all that is written with sheer white coat; then he or she write on it. Problem is, some pens are simply not made to write on those shiny-slippery white coats. Even worse, the first page will not look nice at all to the eyes of the teacher. Second, he or she can simply make a line across the first page and write the right answer on the second page. The wrong answer is still there and can be seen clearly, but that line across the page will tell the teacher not to bother with what is written there. Fair enough. Third, he or she can simply toss the answer sheet to the trash bin, walk to the teacher’s desk, and say “I’ve made mistakes. Could I have a new answer sheet, please?”
Imagine I have three students taking those options respectively. Suppose also that the three of them give the “correct answers.” Well, beyond the grading, I can see at least three different ways of dealing with mistakes. Option one: you focus on the mistakes and have a hard time to brush over them, and then pretend that everything is normal and under control. Option two: you recognize the mistakes, but you still hold on them along the way. Option three: you admit that you’ve made mistakes, focus on the new possibilities in the future, and move on.
Now, you see, that this is actually a miniature of our life-stories? Sadly, I’ve met many good Catholics who opt for number one while dealing with their mistakes. Fewer take number two, and not so many are willingly take number three. Why so? Because in a sense many of us like to feel like heroes or heroines while focusing on the mistakes. Many of us enjoy performing on the life-stage and tell the whole world that we are just victims and that we still desperately wrestle with the mistakes done to us.
We all make mistakes. The difference is, some make silly corrections, while some make smart ones. Whatever you choose, it will determine your life story after the mistakes.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Sixth Sense
“Sixth Sense”
Easter 2009 – Day 01 (Easter Sunday)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Look back at those intense days during the Holy Week (or Passion Week). We are so engaged with God through our senses. We smell the incense, eat His Body, drink His Blood, feel His touch as He washed our feet and wipe them, look at Him in agony in the Gethsemane, look at Him hanging on the Cross, kiss His wounds, see the darkness, see the new fire, see the new light from Easter candle, hear the joyful invitation to rejoice, see the newly baptized, feel the water sprinkled on our skin. As a good friend of mine said, “Roman Catholics come at full force through symbols during these days!” Yes, those symbols speak to us through our senses. God knows how to relate to us humanly!
As we stand in the empty tomb and look at the folded linen, we are faced with so many questions. This is the time when God wants to go further with us. It is the beginning for us to use our sixth sense. Yes, we go beyond our five senses. Yes, we go deeper into our hearts. Yes, we look deeper beyond the wounds on His hands, feet, and side. Resurrection is the celebration of our sixth sense. Or, more precisely, we can only celebrate the victorious Easter Sunday with our sixth sense enforced by that power of love!
These days are called the Octave of Easter. We want to extend the joy of Easter by shouting loudly “Hallelu-Jah!” We want to develop our sixth sense to be aware that He is indeed risen, alive, at work, and always present near us, even if we don’t always realize this with our five senses. Have a great victory with Jesus!
Easter 2009 – Day 01 (Easter Sunday)
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Look back at those intense days during the Holy Week (or Passion Week). We are so engaged with God through our senses. We smell the incense, eat His Body, drink His Blood, feel His touch as He washed our feet and wipe them, look at Him in agony in the Gethsemane, look at Him hanging on the Cross, kiss His wounds, see the darkness, see the new fire, see the new light from Easter candle, hear the joyful invitation to rejoice, see the newly baptized, feel the water sprinkled on our skin. As a good friend of mine said, “Roman Catholics come at full force through symbols during these days!” Yes, those symbols speak to us through our senses. God knows how to relate to us humanly!
As we stand in the empty tomb and look at the folded linen, we are faced with so many questions. This is the time when God wants to go further with us. It is the beginning for us to use our sixth sense. Yes, we go beyond our five senses. Yes, we go deeper into our hearts. Yes, we look deeper beyond the wounds on His hands, feet, and side. Resurrection is the celebration of our sixth sense. Or, more precisely, we can only celebrate the victorious Easter Sunday with our sixth sense enforced by that power of love!
These days are called the Octave of Easter. We want to extend the joy of Easter by shouting loudly “Hallelu-Jah!” We want to develop our sixth sense to be aware that He is indeed risen, alive, at work, and always present near us, even if we don’t always realize this with our five senses. Have a great victory with Jesus!
Incomplete Journey
“Incomplete Journey”
Lent 2009 – Day 40 (Apr 11); Holy Saturday
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Here we are, right at the very last day, Day 40, of our Lenten journey. At the beginning I had a dream to faithfully write meditation every day. Yet, as you can clearly tell, I’ve not been able to do that. The last thirteen days were so messed-up. With trips and other issues to handle, I have always been behind the target. At first I was so upset with myself. But, honestly, I was upset for a very clear reason: I wasn’t able to give my best to some of you who were walking with me along this journey. The darker side of it is also clear: I was upset because I wasn’t able to present myself as a good spiritual writer. I know, my intention is still stained with some need for self-glorification, and I do apologize for this.
Later on, however, I became at peace with this. A beautiful lesson I learned from God is precisely on this point: conversion journey is always an incomplete journey, and it does not fully depend on me. Conversion can only take place because God’s grace works out my incompleteness. If any of these short spiritual notes has ever deeply touched you, it is certainly God’s work. If what you find is dryness, have no doubt, it is because I was not always attuned to the works of God’s Spirit in the process of writing.
Holy Saturday is always awkward. In Indonesian we call it something like “Silent Saturday.” It is silent because we are no longer with the living Jesus, but not yet with the risen Jesus. We may not always realize this, since we are usually busy heading to the Easter Vigil. Silent Saturday is what we experience quite often in our daily life. We are in an uncertain ground. Yet, we need to stay there. We need to go through this stage if we really want to get at the victorious Sunday. Silent Saturday is a good reminder that our conversion journey is indeed always incomplete. Only when we meet God face to face we can call it complete!
Lent 2009 – Day 40 (Apr 11); Holy Saturday
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
Here we are, right at the very last day, Day 40, of our Lenten journey. At the beginning I had a dream to faithfully write meditation every day. Yet, as you can clearly tell, I’ve not been able to do that. The last thirteen days were so messed-up. With trips and other issues to handle, I have always been behind the target. At first I was so upset with myself. But, honestly, I was upset for a very clear reason: I wasn’t able to give my best to some of you who were walking with me along this journey. The darker side of it is also clear: I was upset because I wasn’t able to present myself as a good spiritual writer. I know, my intention is still stained with some need for self-glorification, and I do apologize for this.
Later on, however, I became at peace with this. A beautiful lesson I learned from God is precisely on this point: conversion journey is always an incomplete journey, and it does not fully depend on me. Conversion can only take place because God’s grace works out my incompleteness. If any of these short spiritual notes has ever deeply touched you, it is certainly God’s work. If what you find is dryness, have no doubt, it is because I was not always attuned to the works of God’s Spirit in the process of writing.
Holy Saturday is always awkward. In Indonesian we call it something like “Silent Saturday.” It is silent because we are no longer with the living Jesus, but not yet with the risen Jesus. We may not always realize this, since we are usually busy heading to the Easter Vigil. Silent Saturday is what we experience quite often in our daily life. We are in an uncertain ground. Yet, we need to stay there. We need to go through this stage if we really want to get at the victorious Sunday. Silent Saturday is a good reminder that our conversion journey is indeed always incomplete. Only when we meet God face to face we can call it complete!
Kissing Our Guilt
“Kissing Our Guilt”
Lent 2009 – Day 39 (Apr 10); Good Friday
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
[This is actually my homily on Good Friday which I delivered in Indonesian. Believe it or not, it was also the first time for me to preside at a Good Friday Liturgy]. Do you want to hear a terrible bad news? I’ve got one for you. Here it is: we have lost something precious, and we are not aware of it! What is this something very precious? Our sense of guilt! Yes, in the name of human self-fulfillment, we have become more and more allergic to the healthy and necessary sense of guilt. Why is it so? First, we have learned so well how to manipulate others by purposely incur the sense of guilt so that we can gain what we want. Look at relationship between a young man and his girlfriend. This young man can play and get what he wants from his girlfriend simply by replaying again the litany of her mistakes in the past. “Oh I see, you forgot to call me because you don’t love me anymore!” “Oh well, you always prefer your family to me!” “Right, your exam is more important than my love to you!” and on and on and on. That’s why we have no clue of what a healthy and necessary sense of guilt should be.
Second, we keep asking others to understand us. Look at the streets in Jakarta. When it rains, motor bikers will stop under the fly over right at the busy cross street, or just in the under pass tunnel. They don’t care if hundreds of cars are slowed down. All lanes are practically blocked by the parked motor cycles! Or, just look at how people stop at the traffic light. Many of them don’t care if they stop at the far left lane which is supposed for those who want to turn left. The result! All other cars behind are blocked, since there are some drivers who don’t want to wait. When they are reminded, either they get angry, or they show their miserable faces. Whatever they do, it is clear, that implicitly they say, “Please, understand me!” “Please, understand us, it is raining, and we need shelter!” “Please, understand me, I don’t have time to wait in the line!” and on and on and on. What they actually say is, “I’m not wrong! Why do you make a big case out of it?” No wonder, we have really lost our sense of guilt.
Third, we have become excellent liars against ourselves. We know that what we do is wrong, but we can cleverly find excuses, even spiritual and pious ones, that at night before going to bed, we can tap on our own shoulders and say, “Don’t worry, everything is OK!” and go to bed peacefully. This, I think, is the most serious one. Many of us have even begun to see that what is so wrong is OK! Just look at the good and beautiful and logical and theological and spiritual and psychological explanations about your wrong doings. How many times do we really say and admit honestly “Yes, I’m wrong”? Look at how easily we justify ourselves simply by saying, “Well, it just happened!” By saying this, we actually say, “I was not wrong. It was stronger than me. I was just a victim!” How many times we can say plainly, “Yes, I did it, and I know it was so wrong”?
Now, do you want to hear a soothing good news? I’ve got one for you. Here it is: even if we have lost our sense of guilt, even if we can’t say anymore “I’m wrong” or “I’m sorry,” there is a man like us, with flesh and blood who is willing to do it for us, even if this man is totally blameless. His name is Jesus! He is always willing to bear the burden of our mistakes. We even let Him do this. He lost His beautiful figure. He became so unlike any other human beings. We don’t want to look at Him! Yet, on Good Friday, we do exactly this: walking to the crucified and pay respect to Him. Some would touch, while others would kiss.
We do this not with a pity to that Man, but with a pity to ourselves. We kiss not only His wounds, but our own wounds. We don’t want to embrace our sense of guilt and let Him do this by being so inhumanly disfigured, nailed, wounded, and pierced. Yes, when I kiss His wounds, I actually kiss my long lost sense of guilt! Jesus will look from the cross and say gently, “When will you embrace back your healthy and necessary sense of guilt?”
Lent 2009 – Day 39 (Apr 10); Good Friday
By Deshi Ramadhani, SJ
[This is actually my homily on Good Friday which I delivered in Indonesian. Believe it or not, it was also the first time for me to preside at a Good Friday Liturgy]. Do you want to hear a terrible bad news? I’ve got one for you. Here it is: we have lost something precious, and we are not aware of it! What is this something very precious? Our sense of guilt! Yes, in the name of human self-fulfillment, we have become more and more allergic to the healthy and necessary sense of guilt. Why is it so? First, we have learned so well how to manipulate others by purposely incur the sense of guilt so that we can gain what we want. Look at relationship between a young man and his girlfriend. This young man can play and get what he wants from his girlfriend simply by replaying again the litany of her mistakes in the past. “Oh I see, you forgot to call me because you don’t love me anymore!” “Oh well, you always prefer your family to me!” “Right, your exam is more important than my love to you!” and on and on and on. That’s why we have no clue of what a healthy and necessary sense of guilt should be.
Second, we keep asking others to understand us. Look at the streets in Jakarta. When it rains, motor bikers will stop under the fly over right at the busy cross street, or just in the under pass tunnel. They don’t care if hundreds of cars are slowed down. All lanes are practically blocked by the parked motor cycles! Or, just look at how people stop at the traffic light. Many of them don’t care if they stop at the far left lane which is supposed for those who want to turn left. The result! All other cars behind are blocked, since there are some drivers who don’t want to wait. When they are reminded, either they get angry, or they show their miserable faces. Whatever they do, it is clear, that implicitly they say, “Please, understand me!” “Please, understand us, it is raining, and we need shelter!” “Please, understand me, I don’t have time to wait in the line!” and on and on and on. What they actually say is, “I’m not wrong! Why do you make a big case out of it?” No wonder, we have really lost our sense of guilt.
Third, we have become excellent liars against ourselves. We know that what we do is wrong, but we can cleverly find excuses, even spiritual and pious ones, that at night before going to bed, we can tap on our own shoulders and say, “Don’t worry, everything is OK!” and go to bed peacefully. This, I think, is the most serious one. Many of us have even begun to see that what is so wrong is OK! Just look at the good and beautiful and logical and theological and spiritual and psychological explanations about your wrong doings. How many times do we really say and admit honestly “Yes, I’m wrong”? Look at how easily we justify ourselves simply by saying, “Well, it just happened!” By saying this, we actually say, “I was not wrong. It was stronger than me. I was just a victim!” How many times we can say plainly, “Yes, I did it, and I know it was so wrong”?
Now, do you want to hear a soothing good news? I’ve got one for you. Here it is: even if we have lost our sense of guilt, even if we can’t say anymore “I’m wrong” or “I’m sorry,” there is a man like us, with flesh and blood who is willing to do it for us, even if this man is totally blameless. His name is Jesus! He is always willing to bear the burden of our mistakes. We even let Him do this. He lost His beautiful figure. He became so unlike any other human beings. We don’t want to look at Him! Yet, on Good Friday, we do exactly this: walking to the crucified and pay respect to Him. Some would touch, while others would kiss.
We do this not with a pity to that Man, but with a pity to ourselves. We kiss not only His wounds, but our own wounds. We don’t want to embrace our sense of guilt and let Him do this by being so inhumanly disfigured, nailed, wounded, and pierced. Yes, when I kiss His wounds, I actually kiss my long lost sense of guilt! Jesus will look from the cross and say gently, “When will you embrace back your healthy and necessary sense of guilt?”
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