Power

Job 38:8-11
[8] "Or who shut in the sea with doors,
when it burst forth from the womb;
[9] when I made clouds its garment,
and thick darkness its swaddling band,
[10] and prescribed bounds for it,
and set bars and doors,
[11] and said, `Thus far shall you come, and no farther,
and here shall your proud waves be stayed'?

This was in the Sunday readings today. It struck me again, as it did when someone explained it to me before. The sea was once regarded as a God. Or like Poseidon, there was a "god of the sea" just as we believe there are "datuk" protecting land and forests and rocks.

But here in Job, and more so in Genesis, the world and the powers of Nature are depicted as mere objects or creations of god. God says "let there be light", and there was light. God spoke, and Sun, Moon, and stars come into being, all these things that were deified by ignorant man. The sea, that is worshipped and feared by mariners is more like a frisky baby to God, who wraps it in a cloth of clouds, and sets barriers which it cannot cross.

We have become paganised. We have been entertained by superheroes, wizards, and witches so much, we have begun to believe in the powers of Nature, of spirits, of witch doctors, or bomohs.

The god who made all these, to whom all these belong, and to whom all these bow in worship, sits there in the tabernacle. Who else should you ask for help?

Corpus Christi

The Feast of the Body and Blood of Christ.

The night before he died, Christ shared the Passover dinner with his diciples. This is where he took bread, gave thanks for it, broke it, and gave it to them saying:
"Take this and eat - this is my body"
Then he took the cup, filled with wine. He gave thanks and gave it to them, and said:
"This is my blood"

And so for the past 2000 years, the Catholic Church has had this power and this responsibility - that in the celebration of the Eucharist, a validly ordained priest, with valid intention, obeys God's command and changes bread and wine into the real body and the real blood of Christ.

When I was young, this was so wonderful a truth that I could focus my whole being on those 8 simple words when they were spoken. I could feel awe and gratitude every time that the creator of stars and planets and galaxies and nova would lower himself to be present to me in what seemed to be a tiny wafer of bread. But age and cynicism have dulled the senses, and dimmed the awareness of the miracle happening before me every Sunday (and, indeed, happening daily all round the world wherever a mass is celebrated).

Lost innocence can not be reclaimed, unfortunately. But perhaps, with the will, the mind and heart can be taught again to see what we believe, and to believe what we can not see.

My prayer for tonight: "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief."