Learning to let go on the feast of Ascension

Jesus ascending to heaven. Painting by John
Singleton Copley (source: Wikipedia)

Have you ever had this fantasy, where Jesus still walks the Earth today – physically, in person? And have you ever imagined the ways you might take just to meet Him? Or, what would you do or say if you chanced upon Him on the street one day? Or maybe, have you ever wished that He did not go back to the Father at all?

My answer is a big ‘Yes’ to all of the questions above.

Why not? Even though I am well aware that Christ is still with us today, in the most personal way, I still need someone with skin, whom I could look up to and learn from. Whose voice I could hear vividly; whose hands I could hold; to whom I could write to for advice... well you know, all along that line. In short, I just want Him to be present physically. Here. On earth. Where I can see Him.

Perhaps, that is why the Feast of Ascension has never been my favourite. Yes, I knew its importance - it was merely a head-knowledge and never heart-knowledge. I imagined myself being with the Apostles, witnessing Him being taken up to Heaven. He said He would be with the Apostles until the end of time, which sounded convincing and the Apostles were hopeful. But wait, who's the Holy Spirit? How long do we have to wait? How can we recognise him? No wonder some of them doubted (Mt 28:17).

I have been questioning the Lord, “What is there to celebrate? You left Your Apostles to fend for themselves!”

The passing of John Paul II changed all that. Oh wait, maybe it was the Canonisation I attended that changed that.

As I mourned the absence of John Paul, a very good friend said this to me: “It is better that he goes back to the Father. Unless he goes back, he would never get to know you. And now that he is a saint, you can be sure that he hears you. You’ve got an intercessor and a friend in Heaven! Is it not better that way?”

This Ascension, I asked the Lord a different set of questions.

If You were physically present in the world today, would I have experienced You the way I did – most intimate and personally? Would I even have the opportunity to meet You face to face, when millions of people fight their way towards You, just like what's been happening at the Vatican with Pope Francis (and particularly at the Canonisation of JPII and John XXIII!)? Could You even reach out to people individually, far and wide, without the coming of the Holy Spirit? Could the Church grow to what she is today?

How crucial it is that Jesus goes back to the Father! How crucial it is that the Holy Spirit is sent!

This year, it is a different Ascension for me. I learned to let go of that sorrow of losing John Paul II. Perhaps, this very reflection also prepares me for the many “letting-go” (and detachment) I have to make in the future, be it people or materials.

It is by letting go that we enable God to give us something even better.

I shall not let Pentecost pass me by this time!

**The popular "Let It Go" song playing in the background**

Trip to Rome: An encounter with St Paul

My one and only desire when I went to Rome recently was to witness the canonisation and go to the tomb of St John Paul II to say hello. I've never met him. I'm dying to meet him. By hook or by crook. But unfortunately, no hook nor crook was of help. He was so near and yet so far. In the end, we ended up visiting other places.

I am very thankful to God that we met Fr Peter Hwang, a priest from Bintulu (a town in Sarawak) studying in Rome. He told us that there was another more important and significant historical site than St Peter's Basilica. Of course, I doubted him at first. Why not, since my heart, mind and (most probably) soul, too, wanted to go to St Peter's Basilica only.

It was the Church of St Paul's martyrdom - San Paolo alle Tre Fontane (Church of St Paul at the Three Fountains), taken care by the Trappist monks. Fr Peter brought us into the first Church where St Paul was imprisoned. St Paul managed to write his last letter there, which was to Timothy.

An altar built in front of the cell where St Paul was imprisoned (right)

"That small window (on the right) was the only access to the cell. Imagine how St Paul's persecutors pushed him into the cell and then dragged him out through that little window," Fr Peter explained to us.

I poked my head in to see how it was like. To my horror, it was very cold inside. The ground was rough and uneven. "Oh my gosh..." I heard myself said. "How can anyone sleep in this kind of condition?"

The cell where St Paul was imprisoned

"Yes, it is cold. This is not even winter and it's already so cold. Can you imagine what winter's like inside there?" said Fr Peter. "Yet, St Paul was able to finish his letter to Timothy. He even convinced the person next door to convert and become a Christian."

I felt something stirring deep down inside. 

Before we left the Church, Fr Peter led us in a prayer asking St Paul to intercede for us and to help us be faithful to Christ, just like he did. I guess this place must have meant a lot to Fr Peter somehow.

Out of the chapel we needed to walk along a tar-sealed pathway leading to another church, the site which marked St Paul's beheading (see photo on the left). St Paul could have been dragged all the way from his prison to the place of his execution through that pathway. Certainly, the pathway would not possibly be tar-sealed and smooth like it is today. It could have been rocky, with shrubs and thorns and buttress roots. Perhaps, he could have endured some cuts on his body due to a few falls as he was being forced to the place of 'slaughter'.

How very brutal and inhumane people can be! We wouldn't mind wiping out our enemies as long as they don't stand in our way. But at the same time, we profess our belief in God (regardless of religion). I shuddered at that thought.

"Don't tell me about your God with your words. Show me about your God with your actions" (Steve Maraboli, author of the book Life, the Truth and Being Free). So who is this God you believe in? Pertaining to the persecution of Christians happening recently in this country, I would like to direct this very question to all those who are involved - directly or indirectly.

Church of the Martyrdom of St Paul

Tradition has it that when St Paul was beheaded, his head bounced three times on the sloping ground and at each spot his head landed a spring of water appeared miraculously. The spring of water, which is still flowing today, is called the "Water of Salvation". It was also said that a lot of people who came here to obtain the water received miraculous healing, even until today. Because of the tres fontes (the three fountains) and St Paul's death, Christianity bloomed. However, the Enemy was always present. There were people who wanted to poison the spring of water in attempt to destroy Christianity.

The column on which St Paul was beheaded

Stepping into the next church (i.e. the Church of the Martyrdom of St Paul), there is a column believed to be where the beheading took place, and three 'monuments' (I'm not sure what to call them) under which the "Water of Salvation" (the spring of water) flows. 

I placed my ear near the opening of one of the monuments, trying to hear if there is any sound of flowing water. Nothing. Just the sound of the other visitors' footsteps and voices. I was slightly disappointed when Fr Peter said he could hear the sound of water!

While waiting for the Sacristan Sister to help us get some of the "Water of Salvation" (which were all taken by the group of pilgrims before us), I sat down in front of one of the monuments and had a short conversation with St Paul.

Dearest St Paul, you died defending the faith I so often took for granted. In front of you, I am so ashamed of myself for having so proudly declared that I am a Catholic when my actions did not reflect the identity. Forgive me for all my negligence. Forgive me for taking you for granted as well. Thank you for all you have done for Christ and for his Church. Please pray for us and all the Christians facing persecution all over the world today. And please help me to be faithful to Christ just as you are faithful to him.

'Monument' with water flowing below

Tears were welling up and almost fell. I rubbed my eyes, pretending to feel tired and sleepy as I joined Fr Peter and my friends who were just a few steps away. They were chatting away while waiting for the Sister who promised to bring us some "Water of Salvation".

Fr Peter was right. This is a more important Church that holds the evidence of St Paul's love for Christ. St Paul is more real than ever for me now. He was just one of those biblical authors whom I didn't really bother (for me, the texts were more important, not the authors). But during that visit, a special 'bond of friendship' was formed between St Paul and I (or maybe just me). 

It was an emotional visit, although I did not tell anyone about it, including Fr Peter.

Perhaps, I need to thank John Paul II too. I firmly believe it was through his intercession that we made it to Rome and we were able to save a lot during the trip. Who knows, it was him, too, who sent us Fr Peter to bring us to this Three Fountains Church - to make sure that we don't go to Rome solely for him, but also to get to know The Apostle St Paul and learn from him how to fight a good fight, to finish the course and keep the faith burning for the love of Christ.

An Episcopal Ordination: Joy with a tinge of sadness

It was the very first episcopal ordination I witnessed, of a priest I know not-very-well-but-well-enough. And being able to be there as a photographer, although not the official one, I give thanks to God. I am even more grateful as it was the ordination of our ex-'boss' (he was the advisor of Social Communications Committee).

Episcopal Ordination of Fr Richard Ng

According to organisers, it was a super-mammoth Mass Miri has ever had. It wasn't just another ordinary Mass for the people in the Diocese of Miri, but a significant event even for the laity in the Archdiocese of Kuching.

More than 400 people from Kuching were there. If that wasn't the proof of their love for this priest and friend, then I am not sure what other reasons were there that they were willing to travel so far just to witness the ordination.

And yes, I was there too, assigned by the office to bring back some shots of the ordination, and also to accomplish my own personal mission: to get the best shot of Bishop Richard.

As long as I have been with the Media Office, I have never had the chance to take the photos of Fr Richard (now Bishop of Miri). Partly because I did not find him very interesting - he seldom smiled. At least not when he met me. But when he did (well, he would usually give me that sly smile when he was cycling around the Cathedral compound in the evening), I did not have the camera with me.

When I received the news of his appointment as the new Bishop of Miri, my heart sank - to be honest. Well, I was more concerned of the one to take over his post as the next advisor. I never like changes. Who does? Especially when we need to get used to the new way things are done, when we are already comfortable with the old ways. The unknown is always scary - at least for me.

While I am glad the Diocese of Miri has finally a new bishop, I am a little sad at the same time to say goodbye. Probably because I still cherish those memories of the kindness he has shown me - buying me lunch as we worked overtime, offering to send me home even though it was out of his way, and remembering that I love JPII and bought me souvenirs from Poland. I did not even say "Thank you" to him before he left for Miri. I thought perhaps I could somehow improve that working relationship from "superior-subordinate" to friendship (the kind of working relationship that is more ideal in the church - in my opinion).

But coming to think of it, can a servant expect the master to invite him to sit at the table together for meals?

Dear Fr Richard (please allow me to call you that for one last time), I am not going to say goodbye because I know our paths will cross again somehow. We will pray for you. Quoting the words of Archbishop John Ha "Miri is your Church, Kuching is your home", do come back once in a while to visit us. Don't forget to smile, because you have a beautiful smile!

And thank you, thank you for those moments when you turned and smiled at me when you could completely ignore me.