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Author: Romo Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno OP

Faith and the Image of God

Faith and the Image of God

Faith and the Image of God

Fifth Sunday of Easter
May 14, 2017
John 14:1-12

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You have faith in God; have faith also in me (Joh 14:1)”

Jesus was about to leave His disciples and go back to His Father. The disciples were confused and failed to understand. Some were afraid of losing their Messiah. Some were puzzled by the actions of Jesus. Yet, despite this confusion and fear, Jesus reminded them not be troubled and to have faith in God and in Him.
The situation of the disciples almost two thousand years ago is actually our situation also here and now. We are troubled and perplexed by many problems. There are a lot of things that come our way and we do not understand why. We do not know why so much suffering and evil are afflicting our nation. We do not understand why good people are oppressed and those who have committed evil acts seem to have a good life. We do not understand why we are losing our job or business; why we are having so much financial troubles; why we are losing our family members; why we are having health issues. We keep asking why.
Today’s Gospel reminds us not to be troubled and have faith in God and in Jesus. Yes, we profess that we have faith in God. Yet, do we truly have faith in God or we actually believe in the images of a god we simply created in our minds? Perhaps, we tend to see God as an instant troubleshooter, who will handle all our problems anytime we need Him, or as a supreme law-giver who must be obeyed at all time. Yet, in difficult times, we see God does not solve our problems instantly or we observe those myriad injustices in our world that God seems to be inactive. We become troubled because our God or our images of God do not fit the reality.
If our faith is the stubbornness of a will to cling to particular images of God, then it is not true faith, but fundamentalism. Either we will eventually lose faith in God or we will begin to force to ourselves and other people to adhere to our image of God. Through trials and difficulties in life, our old, inadequate even false images of God are challenged and we are invited to rediscover the true God once again, more alive, more liberating. We will lose our faith in God if we simply cling to these old images and refuse to open ourselves to ‘many rooms’ God prepares for us. Jesus asks us to believe in God, and not in ourselves nor in the images of God we created. True faith means knowing that God will destroy our images of Him and yet, trust that it is all for our good. It is true, often we do not understand, but as we continue to have faith, and we may discover God who is more alive and liberating. He may come to him as the God of silence, who allows us to keep asking; as the God of surprises, who touches us in the most unexpected moments; as God of the ordinary, who walks with us in our daily struggles; and much more genuine images beyond our imagination.
What are trials and challenges that we have now? What are the images of God we have in our hearts now? Do we have faith in God or in ourselves?

Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Journey to Emmaus and the Eucharist

Journey to Emmaus and the Eucharist

Journey to Emmaus and the Eucharist
 
Third Sunday of Easter
April 30, 2017
Luke 24:13-35
 
“…while he was with them at table, he took bread, said the blessing, broke it, and gave it to them. 31 With that their eyes were opened and they recognized him… (Luk 24:30-31)”
 
Luke wonderfully narrated the Journey to Emmaus in such a way that it became a catechetical instruction on the Eucharist. The two disciples were actually running away from Jerusalem. After the death of their master, the situation turned to be dangerous for their lives. They were afraid of the Jewish authorities and their hope and dream of having a Messiah were shattered. Better for them to go away and return to their former lives. Yet, Jesus surprisingly came, healed their wounds, and reappointed them as His apostles. However, let us see some details of today’s Gospel and how this narrative speaks of the Eucharist.
It begins with Jesus coming to the two disciples in their struggles, and inviting them to be with Him. He gathers and listens to all His disciples’ worries, failures and anxieties. The initiative is coming from Jesus. After listening to their stories, He starts to explain the Scriptures. He sheds light on how His life, death and resurrection have become the fulfilment of the scripture. This part is traditionally called ‘kerygma’ or proclamation. Then He connects the meanings of these events to His disciples’ lives. What is happening here is the first part of the Mass, the Liturgy of the Word: God gathers us His people with all our joys and sorrows and then, He nourishes us with His Word.
What follows is the breaking of the bread. Yet, before this takes place, the disciples have to do their part in inviting Jesus to stay with them. The initiative is from God, but we need to do our effort to participate in His work and make it fruitful. Then, Jesus takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it and shares it with the disciples. These very acts remind the disciples of Jesus in the Last Supper. In fact, the breaking of the bread is an ancient and biblical name for the Eucharist. The basic purpose of the Eucharist is to present the real Christ, and indeed, the disciples are able to recognize Him here. This is the first Eucharist after the Resurrection, and this brings healing and forgiveness. It gives meaning to the troubled lives and shattered hopes of the disciples. Then, after being nourished by His Word and His Body, the disciples’ hearts are burning and they go back to Jerusalem to proclaim the risen Jesus. The encounter with the risen Lord always leads to mission and preaching. These depict the second half of the Mass, the liturgy of the Eucharist.
Luke wrote his Gospel more than 1900 years ago, and it is amazing that the basic structure of the Eucharist remains even to this very day. Certainly, there are also many changes along the way, like for example the transformation from the old Latin Mass to the post-Vatican II mass, the ordinary form we have now. Yet, we are still faithful to what are truly essential and foundational: the reading and preaching of the Word and the breaking of the Bread. We are blessed and humbled that we are members of the Church who faithfully encounter Jesus, the Word and the Eucharist, just like the two disciples in the Gospel and like the first Christians in ancient time. It is now our challenge to continue living as the Eucharistic people in our daily lives, the men and women nourished by His Word and Body in the Eucharist.
 
 
Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP
Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?

Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?
 
Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion
April 9, 2017
Matthew 26:14—27:66
 
“Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Mat 27:46)”
 
Many theologians and ordinary Christians alike are baffled by these words of Jesus on the cross. If Jesus is God, how is it possible for Him to be separated from God? Why does the most compassionate God abandon His beloved Son? It simply does not make any sense. The Catechism of the Catholic Church tries to explain that it is a consequence of sin. Not that Jesus had committed any sin, but He endured the sin of the world on the cross. The greatest effect of sin is separation from God. Thus, carrying the heaviest burden of sin, Jesus could not but feel the chilling effect of alienation from His own Father.
However, for early Christians and Jews who listened to the last words of Jesus on the cross, they understood that Jesus was actually reciting the beginning line of Psalm 22. The tradition considers this as a psalm of lamentation. In fact, the Book of Psalms contains a lot of psalms of lament. Despite its sorrowful nature, this kind of psalm remains true to its form, which is a prayer inspired by the Holy Spirit. Reading closely Psalm 22, we discover that the psalmist tried to express his desperate situation because of the enemies’ assault. The attack was so intense and brutal that he felt that even God abandoned him. Yet, despite the feeling of abandonment, he kept lamenting to God as if He was just near. Indeed, the psalmist was frustrated and complaining, but even this, he turned it into a prayer. Though it was the only prayer he could utter, it was an authentic prayer, without any pretension and pride. This is the paradox: when the psalmist became honest with himself and sufferings, God was closest to him.
In the cross, Jesus felt an excruciating pain both on physical and emotional levels. His triumphal entrance to Jerusalem in which He was welcomed as the King, the Son of David and Prophet, was a jubilant event, yet in a matter of days, many people who had followed Him turned to be His enemies and shouted, “Crucify Him!”. All his great successes as a preacher, teacher and wonder maker, were scattered. He was about to die as a criminal, a shame to Himself and His family. In this extreme sorrow, He decided to pray. Not any prayer, but the prayer that is most fitting to a suffering faithful Jew: a Psalm of Lament. This is the paradox of the cross: He felt abandonment and frustration, but in this prayer, this was the moment Jesus was closest to His Father.
We share also this experience of the cross in our lives. We might face terrible financial situation and uncertainty in our works. We might have health conditions that drain our resources. We might fail in our marriages or friendships. We might just lose our beloved family member. We are misunderstood and accused of wrongdoings we never committed. We might be wronged unjustly. We suddenly lose the works or the ministries we have built on for years. It seems we cannot see any light at the end of the tunnel. Yet, even in the horrifying experiences of the cross, Jesus teaches us to pray. Not any prayer, but a prayer of lamentation, a sincere prayer that expresses deepest desires, angst and pains. It is true that our situations might not change at all, but as we articulate ourselves and our situations, we are helped to find meanings, consolation, and hope. This is the paradox: in the prayer of lament, as we strip our pride and pretentiousness, even when we are in the lowest pit of our lives, God is actually closest to us.
 
Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP
Fear that Consumes Us

Fear that Consumes Us

Fear that Consumes Us
Saturday in the Fifth Week of Lent
April 8, 2017
John 11:45-56
“It is better for you that one man should die instead of the people, so that the whole nation may not perish (Joh 11:45).”
In today’s Gospel, we discover the reason why the Jewish authorities or called as the Sanhedrin wanted to eliminate Jesus. They were afraid that Jesus would unite the Jewish people and rally against the Romans. They were afraid that the Romans would immediately crash Jewish rebellion and take their nation and destroy their holy place or the temple. It is interesting to note that these religious leaders gathered together not to discuss religious matters, but political ones. In fact, in the Gospel of John, these leaders never performed their religious duties in the Temple, especially as priests who offered the sacrifice and led the people in prayer.
Engrossed in political intrigues, the Jewish religious leaders were afraid to lose their temple. Indeed, for the Jews and even for Jesus, the Temple was a sacred house of God. But, the Temple also was a seat of power, control as well as money. Jewish people from all over the country would visit the Temple, and donated their hard-earn money for the Temple’s upkeep. But, not all were for the Temple’s maintenance, many went to the temple officials. Some greedy officials definitely did not want to lose their jobs, their sense of authority and financial stability. Their fear was so great that they were ready to eliminate anyone who challenged their place, and Jesus was standing in their way.
It is just natural if we feel afraid. In fact, as a basic instinctive emotion, it is vital because it makes us flee from real danger. Yet, the problem is when fear becomes the driving force of life, and destroys us and other people in the process. Often fear paralyzed to deal with the real issues. But sometimes, fear emboldens us to take up any extreme measures to eliminate things or persons we fear. Fear of losing our jobs we bully other co-workers. Fear of failing the exam, we cheat. Fear of being exposed, we lie. Fear of failure, we work like crazy and neglect other priorities of life.
As we are entering the Holy Week and preparing ourselves for the Easter Triduum, it is a high time for us to reflect. We thank God for the natural emotion of fear that saves our lives from danger, but we need to confront our excessive fear also that have changed into various crippling and destructive attitudes. What is our greatest fear? What fear controls our life? Does this fear become our god? Are we brave enough to surrender these fears and entrust ourselves to the true God?
Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP
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