At Age Sixty I Began to Know Myself

"At fifteen, I had my mind bent on learning. At thirty, I stood firmly on what I had learned. At forty, I had no doubts. At fifty, I knew the decrees of Heaven. At sixty, my ear was an obedient organ for the reception of truth. At seventy, I could follow what my heart desired without transgressing what was right." These thoughts taken from the Analects of Confucius by a priest writing for priests served to prompt him to reflect on his own "reception of truth" on reaching his 60th year.

In one of his parishes, he recalls a time when he criticized the members of a parish group--and they all quit, and even their family members were adversely affected by his actions, with one parent forbidding their child to continue being an altar boy. Soon after, the child, though usually very sociable, would avoid the priest, who wondered what could the parent have said to bring about this kind of behavior on the part of the child. What  kind of pastor had he become to deserve this kind of response?

He realized that as a pastor he should be like a father, and at his age he felt it was time to act like a father, with this desire manifesting in more caring thoughts, words and actions. but he soon realized that it was easier said than done. Recently, he used words with the parish president that hurt him deeply. The priest tried to apologize a number of times without success.

He says he doesn't want to make any apologies for his actions. And though he has been praised for his pastoral work, now looking back on his life, he sees how he has become selfish and egotistical. It was never about the rightness of a particular situation, he says, but the way he handled the situation, which was usually in a dictatorial manner, that was the problem. When he was young, this behavior was accepted by the family, but at his age and position, he knew his behavior needed to change. If he didn't change, he knew matters would not return to normal as they did years ago.

When he recalls the words of St. Paul (Cor.13) about love being patient, they hurt to the core of his being. He knows he has a quick temper that often causes a great deal of trouble. He knows that more important than achieving results are the people in his life. But what he now has come to understand more deeply, he says, is that these were only words, having no real impact on how he behaved. The difficult situations he often found himself in were not, he now saw clearly, the result of another person's fault but the result of his own lack of love.

Though it was an embarrassing revelation to have to admit this to himself, he has learned, he says, a great deal by what has happened. He will ask for forgiveness again from those he has hurt, and hopes his resolve to put into practice what he now knows will be equivalent to the hurt he feels.

Confucius said that at the age of sixty one can begin to hear the truth clearly, The priest hopes that he will also, having arrived at the age of sixty himself, hear the truth of any situation, no matter how difficult it may seem, and accept it lovingly. And begin, hopefully, the next phase of Confucius' journey: being able to follow what the heart desires--without transgressing but always doing what is right.

Happy Indeed is the Man...

A priest who writes a bulletin for priests notes the answers  received from  the question: What does religion mean to you?

Religion, said one respondent, means sharing what you have and following our Lord like the saints of old: emptying ourselves. But, the priest opines, is this all there is to our religious life?

Others said it means a life of sacrifice; asking for blessings, money and the like,is a worldly thing, not a holy thing. And when they do ask for these things, they feel uncomfortable, they said, as if doing something they should not be doing.  

Then there are those who feel their religion should help them to live a fuller life, and there should be no embarrassment in asking for whatever help they need to achieve this. When we think that asking is not the right thing to do we will have psychological problems, because we were created to satisfy our desires, they said.

When we are not able to satisfy our desires, the mental pain can be great. When children do not  receive what they want they are distressed and can leave home and can become defiant. Adults can try to alleviate their anger by liquor. When we don't receive what we want we fall into despondency, which becomes a way of life. This can also be applied to our religious life.

Devotion  in our religious life  can be seen as the result of the many graces we have received. When we have received much we can hope for more and give thanks for what we have received. Others who did not receive what they want often see religion as meaningless and easily discard it.  Both those that receive and those that do not are looking  at the balance sheet, which then determines their state of mind.


We are self-centered creatures, and when we receive what we want we become more devoted and pray more zealously. All the  examples he has given above involve desires that stem from our perceived needs, and not from a desire to serve God. He gives the example of a person who comes to us with a gift, hoping for something in return, and contrasts that with a person who gives because he likes us and gives unconditionally. We prefer, of course, the one who gives unconditionally. And our relationship with that person changes, knowingly and unknowingly.

The priest finishes his article with a quote from the first psalm, verses 2-3: Happy indeed is the man...whose delight is the law of the Lord and who ponders his law day and night. He is like a tree that is planted beside the flowing waters that yields its fruit in due season and whose leaves shall never fade." To ask for blessings is a good thing, but according to the psalm, we receive more by our efforts to live a God-like existence. Doing what God wants us to do in our daily life will open ourselves up to receive everything we need and more. Doing so will yield fruit in abundance.

Life Can be a Maze

A pheasant hen came out of her dark abode and went over to  the edge of a lake. She looked into the water and saw her image, which surprised her: eyes sunken, body thin, feathers dull--she looked ugly. She had been hurt by the abusive behavior of the male pheasant, who left her. She couldn't eat or sleep, and began reflecting on her sorry condition and realized that it was not the male who had brought about her condition. She alone was responsible by the way she had responded to his abusive behavior. Putting her thinking in order and seeing clearly the foolishness of her ways, she aimed for the blue heavens, flying up into the sky, a new being. This story by a Korean fairytale writer, whose stories often serve as a source for reflection by a priest who writes in a bulletin for priests, was used to illustrate what can happen when we don't take responsibility for our emotional responses to difficult situations.  

Fr. K, in his late 30s, severely reprimanded by his bishop, was assigned to a small parish in the outskirts of the diocese, quite a distance from the bishop and the activities of the diocese. He was not very zealous in his work and did not relate well with his fellow priests.

He nurtured his disappointments and failures, which was making the last part of his life bitter and and lonely. His feelings of inferiority and the disappointments made his life with others difficult. That the words of a superior, said in a brief moment, could make life lose its meaning for him, said the priest-writer, is heartbreaking. To ask for forgiveness with an act of great love, or like the hen to fly high into the heavens is extremely difficult.

The bishop was the occasion for this situation but Fr. K  himself, says the priest, is more responsible for the outcome and allowing what occurred in the past to destroy his life is a great fault. Moreover, though the bishop had ostracized him, there was no reason for him to ostracize himself. There never is a good reason, the priest says, when others have put us down to put ourselves down. Though admitting we have many faults, he says there is plenty we can do to correct our defects, which are not part of who we truly are. We are precious beings, unique with great value, who have much to give to others.

It is necessary for us to see ourselves positively, and to love ourselves, he says. When we see ourselves negatively we lose our will, fail to love ourselves, and live without goals. This tends to breed a feeling of inferiority, as we lose hope and fall into despair.

Jesus made it a habit to be with despairing people and gave them hope, which led to the realization that they were loveable, which led to their living in a loving way. We are told that in the middle ages, and even before, a maze was marked out in some manner on many of the church floors. Christians would kneel  at the entrance to the maze and begin crawling along the maze seeking to find the exit. When they came to a dead end, they would retrace their steps and look for another way that would allow them to continue their journey. It was a good lesson in patience and motivation.  Life, at times, can be maze-like, but once we face the difficulties of life and keep in mind that there is a way out of any difficulty, we can, like the pheasant hen, soar toward the heavens and become the being we were meant to be.  

Facts Should Speak for Themselves

Determining what is a fact is difficult. The truth, some say, is made up of facts,  but, as we know so well, what is considered a fact by some is not necessarily seen as such by others. Those who affirm or deny something being a fact usually want their understanding to be seen as the truth. The very different positions of the pro-life and pro-choice people is a good example of what is meant.

For a Christian, the number of those affirming or denying any fact means very little, and even knowing the facts does not necessarily mean we will be led to the truth. This has been abundantly illustrated by the issue of abortion which, after being largely ignored in the past, is now becoming a heated issue in Korea. The low birth rate makes the issue a vital one for the nation.

Both Catholic papers had articles on the recent international meeting of women doctors in Korea, and how these doctors brought their agenda to the whole world because of their refusal to let a pro-life group speak to them. The Medical Women's International Association (MWIA)  invited a group of experts to speak to the women doctors. Three women doctors who belong to the American Pro-life  Association of Obstetricians and Gynecologists were to give a lecture on pregnancy and abortion, which touched on death, premature babies, disabilities and the mental health of the mother. The invitation was made by the Korean hosts, members of the MWIA, who had no difficulty with hearing the medical facts associated with abortion on the health of mothers. The pro-choice faction arbitrarily canceled the lecture. The president of the MWIA “regrets that the MWIA invited presenters would deny women their basic right to choice.” These were the words that led to the cancellation of the talks that had been planned months in advance.
  

Even though they were denied the chance to talk to the group of women doctors, the head of the pro-life group in Korea  arranged for them to give a panel talk on television during the time they would have given their presentation before the women doctors. The secretary-general of the women doctors, hearing about the TV interview, entered the room where the panel was speaking and broke up the meeting, putting her hand over the video camera recording the presentation. This embarrassing incident made the international news.

The health effects of abortion on the health of the mother, for a pro-life person, has nothing to do with the morality of abortion. However, in the present debate between the two contending parties, the issue of health to the mother is often used by pro-life advocates to persuade those who need help in taking a position. However, the scheduled lecture, which had been canceled, seemed to ignore the fact that the pro-life doctors were specialists in their field and that their intention was solely to present an academic and scientific assessment of the possible health risks of abortions. Another expert attending the doctors' meeting, a professor at the Catholic Sacred Heart Medical School in Rome, said that it was a case where the pro-choice doctors feared meeting the pro-life doctors. Soon after this incident, the Korean doctor who was the chair person for the public relations committee resigned, saying she could no longer work with them.

The truth that many hold dearly is one thing, but when we are dealing with scientific, empirical and sociological facts, it would be refreshing to rid ourselves of the baggage that prevents us from acknowledging what is plainly before us. Instead of allowing the facts to speak for themselves we, unfortunately, often fear to face the facts.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

A distinguished family from England went to Scotland for a vacation, so the story goes. While in Scotland, the child in the family went swimming and would have drowned if another young person didn't go into the water to save him. Alexander Fleming was the young person who saved the other young person from drowning; that young person was Winston Churchill. In gratitude, Churchill's family helped Fleming go on to college, and later became the noted scientist who discovered penicillin. As the story goes, on a trip to Africa, Churchill came down with pneumonia, and was saved again by Fleming--this time by being treated by his remarkable antibiotic drug.  Churchill, as we all know, became  the Prime Minister of war-torn England.

It's a beautiful story of friendship and gratitude, but it never happened, according to those who know the lives of these two historical figures. What is  sadder, says the columnist writing for the Peace Weekly, because of the society we live in today the chances of it happening, really happening, would be extremely rare.  
 
He recounts a story of five young persons attending a camp, who died recently in a water accident. One of the boys did manage to save himself, but when he saw his friends struggling, he attempted to rescue them and lost his own life. Are we being taught in our family's, the columnist asks, not to be afraid to risk our life for others? Or are we being taught, consciously or unconsciously to take care of ourselves at all costs?

According to the German philosopher Kant, a person should unconditionally follow what he called the categorical imperative. "Act only according to that maxim by which you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law." He did not want us to be subjected to external controls and impositions, but by the law that God has put into our intellects, which we are able to discover and act on freely. He reminded us that we are beings of noble character.

The columnist says there has been much controversy about what Kant meant, what he said and didn't say, but the professor unconditionally and universally sees the preciousness of life in Kant's idealistic moral stand, and reads into it the love of Jesus. When we consider persons not as means to an end but as ends themselves, and the life of another as a part of our own life, we become human beings and Christians.
He refers to a poem by John Donne, a 17th century English poet and Anglican priest, titled "No Man Is An Island."

No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main; if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as any manner of thy friends or of thine own were; any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind. And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls," the title of a book by Hemingway and a movie, tells the story of a wounded soldier who did not want to hold back his friends so he sent them on their way to life, and he, to face certain death. He was himself willing to give his life for what he believed. This is not suicide, the columnist says, but shows our belief in the immortality of life. Yet today, there is the meaningless killing of ones self and the justified murder of others in a culture of death scenario. He would like to ask those who have lost their children: For whom does the bell toll?  The bell tolls, he says, not only for them--though they are always with us--but also for us.

  

What Happened to Common Sense?

 

When it began, the columnist in the Peace Weekly doesn't know, but we seem to be witnessing, he says, an upsurge of activities in society that fly in the face of ordinary common sense. All of society is becoming increasingly upset by the prevalence of sexual abuse, family immorality, and violence of all kinds. And people in positions of authority, who should know better, are involved.

With the apparent unconcern of our society on matters of morality and the dignity of the human person, the responsibility of people of faith to respond to this growing scourge is all the greater. Jesus did say (Matt 7:18): "A healthy tree bears good fruit, but a poor tree bears bad fruit." And as Catholics we have the mission, he reminds us, to be the "salt of the earth." People of faith living their faith, the columnist asserts, would make a big difference in how the world functions.

He refers to the Korean proverb: "The lower stream is clean only when the upper stream is clean." This proverb is generally used to stress the importance of family formation of the children. Parents must provide, he says, an example for the children if they are to grow with the necessary virtues and character of a healthy citizen. It all starts in the family with the education of the children, he maintains.

Confucius said the same thing: a person has to first work on his own character before he goes out to teach others. Similar to this maxim is the idea often expressed: To have peace in the world one should first govern one's family and to do this, one must first learn to govern oneself--a maxim the columnist believes all leaders should make their own.

Those who work for the country and for its citizens should be following this advice, but the columnist does not find this true in most cases. When those in leadership begin working on governing themselves, they will set a good example to future generations.  

The columnist confesses that he is doing his best to be an example to his family and acquaintances, even though there is a lot still to be done. Instead of words, we need the example of deeds, he says.  Seeing this in the lives of people of faith would go a long way in making our world  a better place for all.
All this seems obvious. What's the point of stating the obvious? From experience we learn that what is supposed to be common  is not so common and what is considered obvious is really not that obvious. And since repetition is the mother of all learning it does no harm repeating the obvious.

Speaking with Symbols

A Catholic Times journalist responsible for reporting news from abroad recalls the media coverage of the three most recent popes, especially coverage of their trips outside of Rome. They are treated like entertainers who, when they first alight in a foreign land, are making fashion statements, he says, with their clothes and accessories.
 
Pope John, after leaving the airplane, would  bend over to kiss the ground. Twice in his trips to Korea this was his first greeting to Koreans, followed by saying "This is a land of the martyrs." With Pope Benedict, the Prada red shoes were the big interest. What seemed to be of interest when Francis went to Brazil was his carrying his little black bag onto the plane. Even when he was talking unreservedly to the Italian Premier Enrico Letta, he had this same bag with him.

Shouldn't there have been someone to carry it for him, the journalist asks, to quiet those who might think it rude that the pope has to carry his own bag? But the same thing occurred on his return to Rome. As we all know, this behavior is nothing new. He paid his own bill at the place where he stayed during the conclave and carried his own bags. He refused a private car and traveled by bus with the other Cardinals. The informality shown by the pope is very attractive to the ordinary Catholic, some of whom have said they now find going to church a joyful experience.

The Journalist recalls a recent trip to the United States, where he visited a Korean parish in Virginia. The occasion was the blessing  of the Church after remodeling was finished, and the bishop was there for the blessing. The Korean parishioners were outside waiting for the bishop to arrive in a small faded silver-colored car. His massive frame appeared, with some difficulty, from behind the drivers seat, and proceeded to the trunk of the car, taking out a big bag on wheels, which he dragged to the place of greeting. The Sunday school students greeted him with bouquets of flowers. He greeted them with a hearty laugh. He dragged the bag up the steps and disappeared inside the church. There was nobody, the journalist said, who drove the car for him nor anybody who carried his bags. Can this, by any stretch of the imagination, the journalist asks, be called rude behavior?

The journalist wonders what would it be like if the pope's personal manner of behaving, which is very attractive to many, became the normal way of doing things by the bishops of the Church--riding in buses and carrying their own bags, for example.

Symbols, especially in Catholicism, are very important. The whole sacramental system is built on symbols, which can speak loudly to Catholics. Pope Francis is using the language of symbols, whenever he chooses to respond non-verbally to the duties of his pontificate--taking buses and carrying his own bag, for instance--and whenever he chooses to relate non-verbally to the Catholic faithful, but nonetheless with a clear message, as he did by taking the name 'Francis.' Few observers will miss the shock value of such unexpected behavior. How much of these symbols will be understood to be the message of Jesus, may be another matter.