How to Be a Lay Apostle

Being a convert (I was baptised only in 2004), oftentimes, I find myself reflecting upon what I have really baptised myself into.

Usually, the answer in my head is the image of a cartoon strip I saw once, where in the first frame, a bunch of Jews were wandering around aimlessly and in the second frame, one of them looks up (supposedly at God) and cries out, “Isn’t it time you choose some people else?!?!”

That pretty much sums up my entire experience of entering the Church. As catechumens, we were told that we are chosen and called by God. Then, that statement somehow meant privilege and honour. As a five-year-old Catholic now, I realise it still means ‘privilege’, but it is one which makes us participants in cross-carrying.

Without bringing up the BIG crosses, like, staring at sickness and death, undergoing persecution on account of doing God’s work, striving to hold onto our faith in the face of sufferings, let’s just talk about the ’small’ ones - risking hostile stares to talk about Christ to people who have not encountered Him, trying your hardest not to pick up ammunition to throw at irksome colleagues but to be patient with them, availing yourself to listen to mum’s grouses after a long, hard and emotional day, or simply, to be on the side of justice and right, instead of the side you most desire to be standing on.

Because the Church celebrates Lay Apostolate on Aug 16, I decided to read up a little on it.

Apparently, Vatican II emphasised the importance of the lay apostolate because the “central importance among the rights and duties of the Church’s members that arise from baptism are the right and duty to participate in the mission of the Church”.

Because we are the ones who can go into secular areas of work, community, social and leisure, where priests and religious aren’t able to, the privilege to bring Christ with us to our world outside the Church lies with us.

Canon Francis J. Ripley, Catholic priest, reminds us in “What Is the Lay Apostolate?”, that “in every temporal affair, the Council insists, lay people must be guided by a Christian conscience because even in secular business there is no human activity that can be withdrawn from God’s dominion” and that “Charity enables the laity to express the spirit of the Beatitudes in their lives. Following Jesus they will be detached from earthly things and imitate humility.”

The areas I had mentioned above happen to be the particular areas for me to practise this business of lay apostolate, of being Christian.

I have to try, because I promised God to be one of His when I answered His call to get baptised.

Also, because I have been the recipient of many who shared how their lives have been touched by God, a personal vocation I struggle to fulfil is to testify to God’s love as I have received it.

As the only Catholic in the family, I feel a sense of responsibility (and stress, sometimes!) that whatever choices my family sees me make in my life, must reflect the teachings of the Church. And when they ask why I do what I do, there is the opportunity that God gives me every now and then, to talk about Him to them.

In the business of faith formation at church (RCIA and now LANDINGS), I see God’s grace in continuing to shape and concretise my understanding of Him and His Church with every session I serve at, which helps when I need to talk about God.

But it is in my encounters with individuals in the everyday situations of our lives, that I struggle the hardest. I suspect it’s because these situations are so random that it catches me by surprise – which really means I’m not aware of my Christian duties enough to not be irritated by the colleague who backstabs, the self-absorbed stranger who tries to push her way around, the errant driver on the road who tailgates me (and that just makes me want to chase him down after), my over-exhausted brother who comes home only to throw his tantrums around somedays…

What do I do in return? I take in a deep breath and move away from the situation, telling myself to ignore them – instead of recognising that I should accept them.

I don’t see how I am being Christian, but I am trying. Somedays, harder than others.

There are times I want to give up but then reading about Lay Apostolate reaffirmed why I cannot. Not when us laity, just as much as clergy and religious, “are called by God to strive for highest levels of sanctity – to be saints”.

Often, I wonder if I’m the only one who has to struggle like that. For others, it seems so natural that they are patient and kind, whereas I am always the impulsive and vindictive one. How can I be God’s saint this way when I’m barely trying? Am I alone in feeling this way?

But then I chanced upon St. Augustine’s beautiful quotation that gives me comfort and answer. He wrote: ”What I am for you terrifies me; what I am with you consoles me. For you I am a bishop; but with you, I am a Christian. The former is a duty; the latter a grace. The former is a danger; the latter, salvation.”

One can pray. After all, we are all sinners and saints alike.

Filed under: Game of Life, GOD

How Mahjong Can Make You a Better Christian

Every other game of mahjong I play is when I aim to hit 5-limit cards. The only times I don’t try to make a full suit is when I have a lot of “flower” cards already – those are additional points – then, I will try to game as soon as possible.

Now it isn’t that I’m being greedy. I only play among friends and with friends, money is never the goal. It’s the thrill I’m after – to know if I can finish the game plan or not.

So when someone else games before me, I get very much excitable. And when I am close to completing my own set, I get even more thrilled and want to show my friends what I have in my collection.

Sometimes, we show one another our cards at the end of each game. Sometimes, we don’t. It depends on the individual.

Recently, I realise that the challenge to not open my cards at the end of one game, can be pretty trying. I would want to show off my nicely fitted cards to my friends, either to ‘wow’ them with the cards I have, or to whine and lament about how close I am to finishing the game and why someone else had to game before me.

For a while now, I have thought how much of an act of humility can be practised from adopting a mahjong-etiquette of simply quietly folding my cards back and letting it go, however spectacular they may be.

I’ve been trying; succeeding sometimes and failing at others. It has not been easy, just quietly folding my cards without lament or pride.

The other strange thing about mahjong is, you tend to feel as if ‘luck’ exists. Those who know how to play mahjong can probably testify to how things have an exceptionally strange way of turning out in games. There are common ‘passed-down’ superstitious practices, like changing seats if you’re losing, calling for the card you want, knocking one tile against a similar one you want so it appears, etc..

But because I play only with my friends who are also Catholics, we make it a point to bring God into the game. Like, when we are tempted to be cheeky and make remarks like calling upon our mahjong cards to present themselves in our favour, or to make statements like, “Luck is with me today”, or “Tonight, no luck!”, the others of us will respond, “No need to change seats. There’s no such thing as luck. It’s just a game.”

Our God is bigger than any ‘luck’ there might exist out there, we remind one another. And we end up having a good time and sharing faith experiences.

Never have I imagined that even a game of mahjong can be a practice of humility and Christian sharing.

If you have other innovative ideas of how to practise Christian humility (or other morals) in the everyday business of our lives, do share, then perhaps I can be more mindful of God in the other areas of my life too.

In the meantime, I guess the games will continue amongst us friends who serve together at Church of the Holy Spirit, friends who have shared one another’s joyous occasions and loss; we shall try to learn that precious lesson of humility, and to continue placing our God higher and above than banal ‘luck’.

After all, as the late Father David Thexeira who baptised me, informed us while we were going through RCIA, only to have a few of us cheeky catechumens break out into giggles, “Catholics have no luck!”

Filed under: Game of Life, GOD