It is Funny if You Think It is #3

Where is God?

Two brothers are terrible trouble makers. They are always breaking things, stealing things, lying, and making all kinds of general trouble. The parents have tried everything to get the boys to change, to no avail. Finally, out of options, they ask their pastor if he can help. He says he will talk to the boys, but only one at a time. The parents drop off the youngest and go home, promising to return to get him soon. The boy sits in a chair across from the pastor's desk and they just look at each other.
Finally, the Pastor says, "Where is God?"
The boy just sits there and doesn't answer.
The pastor begins to look stern and loudly says, "Where is God?"
The little boy shifts in his seat, but still doesn't answer.
The pastor is starting to get angry at the boy's refusal to converse and practically shouts "Where is God?"
To the pastor's surprise, the little boy jumps up out of his chair and runs out of the office.
The boy leaves the church and runs all the way home, up the stairs and into his brother's room. He shuts the door and pants, "We're in BIG TROUBLE. God's missing and they think we did it!"

It is time for me to show my true colors

Over the weekend, I attended an Abhishekagni Convention led by Fr. Xavier Khan Vattayil of Sehion Ministries. The convention was attended by over a 1,000 people. It was by far the largest Bible convention organized by the Catholic communities of Washington DC area. For those who are not familiar with Fr. Vattayil, he is a renowned preacher of the 'WORD OF GOD'. He is committed to spread the 'Good News' all over the world, and his sermons and services are providing tremendous change in lives of people around the globe. The television programs led by Fr. Vattayil lead many to faith through the work of Holy Spirit. 

I can attest to the fact that his television programs can change life, I have experienced several physical as well as spiritual healings just by watching him on Youtube. If anybody has any doubt about my sanity for making that statement, just know that I fully understand how that thought process work. I used to be that guy. There was a time when I passionately despised anything to do with spiritual retreats. I used to think that if God can solve everybody's problem when they scream a bunch of "Alleluia" and other praises, then why do anybody need to do anything, why do we need to study or work, why do we need doctors and hospitals. I knew for certain that all of that stuff was a hoax, just playing with people's emotions. I knew everyone of those people who lead these conventions were going straight to hell, if there is such a thing. I didn't know how they could get away with taking advantage of God's name like that. After all, God is not somebody you play with, and these people were treating Him as if He was a glorified genie asking for everything from relief from debt to curing cancer. 

For me, God was a grandmaster, a great force that was everywhere, influencing everything we do; somebody with a master plan, making his moves so that everything goes according to his plan. I didn't believe in prayers because I firmly believed that nothing can influence this mastermind and his plans. I am not sure how I came about with this theory, but I thought of it as a good theory. With it, I could explain everything that happens, unlike the atheists who has a lot of explaining to do.

Then one day, this grandmaster made his move on me. All I was doing was standing in front of a computer watching Fr. Vattayil praying for those who couldn't pray, for those who couldn't believe, for those who have shut God out of their hearts. That's when I felt the HEAT, it passed through my body from head to toe in an instant, and it left me in a pool of sweat. I suddenly felt like a big weight has lifted off of me. A lot has changed in my life since that day as I began to experience a God who listens, a God who is willing to move the mountains, a God who is willing to risk everything in search of the one who is lost. A love so great, it compelled me to testify at the Abhishekagni convention. Until then, my pride kept me from sharing the great blessings I have received. "Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give" (Matthew 10:8), I finally obeyed.

I believe that the greatest gift I have received is the ability to understand the problem of accepting and believing God, not just any God, but the God of Abraham and the prophets, the God who walked the earth only to die on a cross, the God who still lives among us and dwells in each one of us. I firmly believe that God cannot be force fed. It is a call, the good news is that all of us are called. "Do not fear," God says, " for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine" (Isaiah 43:1). 

I have also changed my thought process about praying, I firmly believe in prayer. I no longer have the idea of God as a chess player with a master plan, instead I believe in the Will of God. I believe that if God can find me standing in front of a laptop, suspiciously listening to a priest talking about the Word, then anyone of you can be found. If it is my call to be an instrument to deliver your call, then who am I to say no to it.

Praying with Five Fingers

Here's an easy way to pray unselfishly.

1. Your thumb is nearest you. So begin your prayers by praying for those closest to you. Pray for your spouse, children, parents, siblings, and rest of your loved ones.

2. The next finger is the pointing finger. Pray for those people and things you point fingers at; people you have a grudge against, things you don't like or agree with, everything that you consider as reasons for your pain and sufferings. 

3. The next finger is the tallest finger. It reminds us of our political leaders and the Church. Pray for leaders in politics, business and industry. These people shape our nation and guide public opinion. The Church also needs our prayers to point us in the right direction and also to keep itself in line with its mission on earth. 

4. The fourth finger is our ring finger. This is our weakest finger. It should remind us to pray for those who are weak, in trouble or in pain. Pray for those who are less fortunate than you, pray for the orphans, children who are abused and used as sexual objects, pray for the unborn facing abortion, pray for those who struggle with addictions.

5. And lastly comes our little finger - the smallest finger of all which is where we should place ourselves in relation to God and others. Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. By the time you have prayed for the other four groups, your own needs will be put into proper perspective and you will be able to pray for yourself more effectively.

Lying at the Confessional

Growing up as a Catholic, one of the most humiliating things I had to endure was going to a confession. This is when you have to kneel down in front of a priest, most of the time a priest who knows you, and say all the bad things you have done. As a "sophisticated" youngster with plenty of pride, I hated it with all my heart. But a confession is an absolute must to receive the body and blood of Christ, and the Church insists at least one confession every year. Can you imagine being the only one sitting down without Receiving on Christmas or Easter, all those piercing eyes of your peers  casting you off with the likes of Judas Iscariot, "the son of destruction" (John 17:12), and Gabbar Singh, the antagonist from the movie Sholay. 

I found the answer to my problem in one particular priest. I later learned that most of my peers with those piercing eyes found him a lot sooner than I did. His name is of no significance, but he was among many other things, a priest, a college professor, partner of two local movie theaters, and an exorcist. As a priest, he could finish saying a Mass in 15 minutes, and that's on a bad day. As a Malayalam professor, he will forever be remembered for saying "aa kasaappusala" (that butcher shop) as "aakaasa poosaala" (flower shop in the sky), then spending rest of the hour explaining the significance of this flower shop. He has the backing of numerous testimonies from old ladies to show that his exorcism has some teeth. He is the local incarnation of Hugh Hefner to college students because the " noon show" at one of his movie theaters showed more skin than what he himself revealed wearing his white cassock. 

The beauty about going to confession to this priest is that you don't have to be ashamed to say your sins; he knows, he has seen you standing on the line to buy a movie ticket, he has seen you smoking cigarettes and buying liquor as he walks from one theater to the next. He knows your sins even before you kneel down to confess it, he knows you inside out. He doesn't frown at hearing your sins, he doesn't give you a long sermon at the end of the confession with a tone of disappointment, his penance is usually no more than three Hail Mary's. The horror that shrouds the confession vanishes like early morning dew when you realize that the person on the other side of the confessional knows that you are a sinner, accepts it and shows compassion, then forgives your sins. 

My problem with confession found an even better solution when I came to USA; many things I was confessing as sins were no longer sins!! Many of those things were common practice here, everybody did it. It cannot be a sin when it is done by the majority, I was relieved. So I quit going to confessions and went without any guilt for a long time.

I gained a lot more confidence in acknowledging my sins after attending a retreat, even then I tried to rationalize many of my sins as things done by normal human beings in their daily life, refusing to confess it as a result. Then one day while waiting on a line at a confessional, pondering what to confess, I accidentally gazed upon the Crucifixion. "HE KNOWS" a voice told me from within; He knows my sins just like the priest from my hometown knew. He knows and He accepts me with all the shortfalls, it is not contempt in His eyes, but compassion. He walked on earth as human being for thirty three years facing temptations, continually resisting the urge to sin. He understands and HE KNOWS. And He is willing to forgive me as long as I am willing to take responsibility by acknowledging my transgressions. I am only forgiven for whatever I confess, I get to keep whatever I try to hide from Him or try to rationalize. He knows about all sins but He is a very noble being, He doesn't invade into my life and try to snatch any of my precious sins away. And believe me, these sins are really precious because it is one of the few things that I get to take with me when I die. It will be my downpayment for a really COOL HOT place for eternity!

For a successful confession, one must be able to see beyond the human form of the priest on the other side of the confessional, and understand it is a time to reconcile with the All-knowing, all- loving and Almighty Creator himself. It is humbling, not humiliating; it is invigorating, not interrogation; it is definitely a privilege, not a penance. Confession is the epitome of God's mercy. It is our opportunity to be a vital part in the body of Christ "who wills everyone to be saved" (1 Timothy 2:4).

The mystery of "Finding God"

As I am getting ready to attend several weekend retreats over the next month or so, I spent last several days trying to figure out my true intentions behind attending these retreats. Most of my life, I was an opponent of retreats because I felt that people are attending it only for physical and material gains, I thought of it as fast food version of faith served up in styrofoam containers. In the past, I found three kinds of people attending retreats; one kind tossed their faith out of the window as soon as they obtained what they were hoping to get out of a retreat, the other kind (this is also the majority) ran from retreats to retreats desperately because they never received what they were seeking, the third kind were just obnoxious, they talked and acted like they are walking around with God in their pockets. I began attending retreats and became more active in prayer groups when God, in His infinite mercy, introduced a fourth kind of people to me; these were people who considered themselves sinners, prone to temptations of everyday life, they relied on God through the Risen Christ to strengthen them in their weaknesses and to pick them up every time they falter. By writing the following article, I am in no way judging the actions of others, I am only clarifying my view on retreats, prayer groups and faith communities. 


People have a tendency to seek God in times of trouble, as a solution for their distress, afflictions and addictions. Unfortunately, the danger is that, while searching for a drastic cure, they night adopt a harsh version version of Christianity, one that is highly addictive and has the power to hurt themselves and also those around them. The problem with seeking God is that nobody knows where to look for Him. In fact, it works the other way around, God seeks us and finds us when He intends to do so. What we should be doing is keep our hearts open and minds alert, so that when He calls us we can answer back. 

The process of answering back to God's call is a lifelong process, it is a slow process also. We might experience a sudden change in our circumstances when we answer His call; there could be healing from physical afflictions, deliverance from addictions, and relief from many distresses. The sad reality is that when such things happen, many of those recipients might take it as a sign that they have suddenly turned into a new person, one that is favored by God. What makes it even more dangerous is that it is not just the recipient who is prone to such a thought, many among the witnesses could also jump into such conclusions. The net result is that we fail to see the infinite mercy and saving grace of God when such miracles occur. During His time on earth, the Bible says that Jesus performed many miracles, many of them were physical healings. Jesus cured the afflictions of those who had faith; being righteous or pure of heart was never a condition. Jesus, in fact, spent a lot of time with the sinners and the tax collectors; He dined with them, slept at their homes, even took one as disciple. It is definite then that God doesn't seek out the righteous and the upright to bestow His graces upon, and being on the receiving end of such graces would never make anyone righteous or upright. 

Healing and deliverances are nothing more than annunciations, it is God's way of announcing the arrival of Jesus in us; it is not a sudden transfiguration of us into new heavenly beings filled with Jesus, but the beginning of a subtle transformation experienced through the pain and sufferings of Jesus Christ. Human beings are not meant to be changed overnight; we can't let go who we are abruptly, we cannot be taken out of the context of our family and community in an instant, a merciful God knows that. Answering God's call is not the end of it all, rather it is only the beginning. It is the start of a lifelong journey of metamorphosis through meditation, contemplation, prayer and mentoring. It is allowing God to create some confusion and frustration in our lives, forcing us to turn around and face ourselves, to do a self-examination, to cease from pointing fingers and to accept responsibility for our own actions. It is allowing God to put mentors in our path, they could be people we already know, but never considered worthy to be our role models; our family, friends and even those whom we considered enemies. It is allowing God to instill His Spirit in us to teach us to pray, to show us the path to sanctity. 

Anybody can walk around thinking that they have found God, using God as an excuse for anything and everything. It is not God we have found, if our new found "divinity" reinforces all our prejudices and allow us to call ourselves special at the expense of others. It is not God we have found if it gives us the right to judge. It is definitely not God we have found, if we are being urged to force our newly found "faith" down the throats of every "sinner" that crosses our path . What we have found is our alter ego, a parasite, sucking the life out of the caterpillar before it can ever be transformed into a butterfly.

I attend retreats because it is my opportunity to be a part of the Communion of Saints. It helps me seek, not God, but His kingdom and justice. It is my opportunity to meet people who can assist me in my search; a search, I hope, I would never get to see the end of. It is also my opportunity to acknowledge all the blessings I have received throughout my life, and to allow God to shatter by limited expectations with His great abundance, again.

The Choice

There was confusion at the Gates of Heaven, something has gone terribly wrong. St. Peter checked everywhere, but he couldn't find the name of the person standing in front of him anywhere; the man has died before his time and now he is awaiting judgement. Jesus was called in to solve the problem, and the man was given two choices, either return back to earth or come into heaven. The man chose the later, he didn't want to go back to earth, he thought it would be too much trouble to walk around as somebody risen from the dead. 

Satan also heard about the confusion, he couldn't believe that Jesus offered the man heaven without considering his past. So satan came flying in and disputed the decision, he felt that he too have a right to take this man to hell. The matter was taken up to the Lord our God himself, and He gave the man a choice, the man was allowed to pick heaven or hell for himself. Now the confusion was upon the man and he said to God, "how could I make that choice Father for I don't know what's better, I have never experienced heaven or hell". God agreed and told him that he could spend a week each in heaven and hell, before choosing one. 

The man was welcomed in to heaven first, and it was beautiful. It was nothing like he ever experienced, no words could explain it. He lived there for the next seven days surrounded with bliss and serenity. Jesus came to him on the seventh day and asked him about the experience, if it is something he would like to have for eternity. The man immediately said yes, he didn't even want to see hell, he said that he has already made his mind up about staying in heaven.

As they were talking, a limousine pulled up to the heaven's gate and several beautiful looking women came out of the limousine. The man has only seen women like that in movies and magazines, and they were holding a big sign welcoming him to hell. He was was surprised, all his life he wanted to meet women like that but never could. Now here they are, waiting for him, he even saw one of those woman holding his favorite brand of liquor. He turned to Jesus and said, "Perhaps I should go by the hell just to see it, else it is not fair to satan. But I promise I won't stay there, not even a day. I will be back in heaven before you even know it". He ignored the grief in Jesus' eyes and hurried over to the limo.

Hell just blew the man's mind, it was a never-ending party. Everywhere he looked, there was lots of good food, liquor, drugs, every kind of women he ever dreamed of. He couldn't believe it when somebody came and told him that it's been seven days already, it only felt like an hour to him. 

Soon he found himself before God again, it was time to make a decision. And he chose hell over heaven, he had no doubt, hell was nothing like heaven, hell had everything he ever wanted. He once again ignored the agony in Jesus' face and ran back to hell. He felt something wrong as soon as he entered hell, he felt the scorching heat and suffocating smell of sulfur was everywhere. There were no beautiful women or loud party music, instead he saw scary looking creatures crawling all over the place and screams of people in utter pain. Then he saw satan, approaching him quickly the man began to complain. He said, "I don't understand, looks like I am in the wrong place, satan. I need to get back to the party hall". Satan looked at him with amusement and said, "There is no party hall, you fool. That was just our marketing department putting up a show for you. Who would ever want hell if I show them what it actually look like". The man couldn't believe what he was hearing and satan continued as the man began to cry, " You know, I have to tell you, I have been using the same ploy since the beginning of creation, the false hope that there is something better out there, something better than what God offers, and humanity falls for it every time. They always trade in eternal happiness for temporary self-indulgence". At that, the satan left the man, leaving him to suffer the pain and torture that awaits him for eternity.

The window with a view

God is Love, a phrase we see everywhere, it is on bumper stickers, t-shirts and coffee mugs. But where does it come from, is it in the Bible? The Bible is full of depictions of God's Love for us, and love was prime subject of Jesus' teachings. Yet nobody dared to say "God is Love" until 1 John 4:8, one of the last Books in the Bible. We too, like all those who wrote before John, fail to acknowledge that true love is God Himself and the ability to love is God's greatest gift to us. We fail in our love because we are selfish, we fail because true love demands sacrifice. 

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. He was in a lot of pain and always complained about all the miseries he had to endure throughout his life. He kept saying that he was done with his horrible life and kept hoping that he would die soon. After a while  the men began talking to each other and eventually they talked to each other for hours. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. 

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. Eventually he stopped complaining, his mind began to get filled with many beautiful memories he had in his lifetime; from the other man’s narration of the world outside, he realized that there is still so much he hasn’t seen. He was able to convince  himself that he was going to walk out of that hospital room soon to experience a bit more of that world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band – he could see it. In his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. To his amazement, the window faced a blank wall, there was no view of the park or the lake, nothing except a blank brick wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.

Let's NOT mess with The Timetable

It would be the understatement of the century if I say "mysterious are the ways of God". The joke is always on us when  we even begin to think that we have an understanding on how God fulfills His promises in our lives. God has a plan of action in place for everybody who trusts in Him, it might not be what we are hoping it to be, but there is definitely a plan. Since the plan is a mystery, the timing of it becomes even more mysterious. It always seems like God is not in a hurry and that the time is running out on us, and often, we ruin God's perfect plans with our impatience. 

There couldn't be a better example than Abraham to clarify this thought. God had promised him a son, but, from a human perspective, time was running out. With both Abraham and Sarah closing in on the century mark, most people would have said that time had already run out. Just like any one of us, they too felt that they are out of time and wanted to help God to come through on His promises. It was acceptable for a barren woman to give her maid as a substitute to bear children for her in those times, so Sarah suggested Abraham take Hagar and let her bear his child. In his hurry, Abraham ran ahead of God's plan and the consequences are still felt in the Middle East today. The Arab nations (descended from Ishmael, the son of Hagar, the maid servant) and Israel (descended from Abraham's legitimate heir, Isaac) continue to be bitter enemies.

The two articles I posted this week, one about Dr. Crandall and also about the man and the nun vividly depicts the timeliness in God's actions. Now I know Dr. Crandall is a true story, I am not so sure about the other one because I was distracted and didn't hear the first part of the story when it was told by a priest during his sermon. Truth or fiction, together they show the contrast in the way and time God chooses to act. Dr. Crandall, it says, is a man of faith, he gave himself to God at the age of 19, spent majority of his time off from work to spread the Word. He really wanted God to give him his son back, he knew it was possible for God. But God waited two years to answer his prayers, and not the way the good doctor ever expected it to be. On the other hand, the man in the other story struggled with his faith, but God came through for him also in what looks like at the right time. God not only has a plan for everyone, he also has chosen a time to implement it, He only expects us to hold on to however little faith we have in Him and wait patiently for His time to come. Just as the apostle Paul reminded Christians that in "the fullness of time" God sent His Son (Gal. 4:4) and "in due time Christ died for the ungodly" (Rom. 5:6), so God has a schedule for everything in our lives as well. We certainly don't want to lag behind God's plan, but it's equally disastrous to run ahead of it.

 
As you seek God's will for your life, seek His timetable as well. Don't let your impatience carry you ahead of God. Doing the right thing at the wrong time makes the right thing the wrong thing.

Finding Faith in a Bedpan

An early morning a nun was driving to a nursing home where she volunteered regularly. She ran out of gasoline in her car on the way, the road was less travelled and she couldn't find anybody to take her to a gas station. So she walked to a gas station some distance away. She explained to the clerk her situation and asked to lend her a gas can. Unfortunately,the station was all out gas cans, so both of them began to look for a container large enough to take some gasoline back to the car. They couldn't find any container big enough. The clerk then remembered about the bedpan he purchased the day before to give to his elderly mother who was bedridden. So he filled up the bedpan with gasoline and gave it to the nun along with a funnel, who took it and walked back to her car. She was really exhausted by the time she returned to the car, so she put the bedpan down and crouched down next to it to catch her breath.

There was a man walking down the street, and he saw the nun putting down the bedpan and crouching down next to it. This man was heading towards the railroad tracks nearby to commit suicide. Life hasn't been good to him, failures followed him all his life, and he was on the brink of losing his home to foreclosure. He tried many times to turn to God, but had a hard time believing. So that morning he decided to end all the madness on the railroad tracks once and for all. As he watched the nun crouching down next to the bedpan, he immediately thought that the nun had "to go", and it made sense because there were no places with restrooms near by. But he was a bit surprised by her decision to relieve herself into a bedpan on the side of the road. He was curious and decided to watch the nun to see what she is doing next. 

A bit later, the nun felt better and she got up and opened the cap to pour the gasoline from the bedpan into the gas tank. She made a sign of cross and prayed that there should be enough gas for her to get back to the gas station. The man couldn't believe his eyes as he watched the nun. He said to himself, "I have heard that Jesus turned water into wine to help a family in distress, but I never believed it. But if He is going to turn urine into gasoline to help this nun, then I will not need no other proof that 'For men this is impossible, but for God all things are possible' (Matthew 19:26)". The nun finished pouring the gasoline from the bedpan, got back in her car and drove off. The man also turned around and walked back home with a firm belief in the almighty, all powerful God for whom nothing is impossible.

What I Learned #2

I’ve learned-
that just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.

The Preacher and the Taxi Driver

A preacher and a taxi driver died and went up to the heaven at the same time. St. Peter greeted them both at the Pearly Gates and told them to follow him as he takes them over to their residences in heaven. They walked up to a huge mansion on the top of a hill overlooking a beautiful lake. St. Peter pulled out a set of keys and handed it over to the taxi driver and said the mansion was all his to enjoy. The preacher got excited as they walked to his residence, he figured if the mere taxi driver gets a place that big, his place is going to be even bigger. But they came down the hill and began walking through a forest, and finally came to small shack in the middle of the forest. St. Peter handed the preacher the keys to the shack and said it was all his to enjoy. The preacher couldn't believe it and he asked for an explanation. St. Peter said it is only a matter of justice because the taxi driver helped more people to turn to God. The preacher began to argue, after all he spend his entire life preaching the Word of the Lord while the taxi driver didn't even go to church regularly. So St. Peter explained, "you are right about the taxi driver, he was not a good man at all, on top of it he was a really bad and reckless driver as well. So anybody ever took a ride in his taxi, prayed. On the other hand, anybody ever listened to you preach fell asleep".

What I Learned? #1

I’ve learned-

that you cannot make someone love you. All you can do is be someone who can be loved.

An act of Miracle #1

Dr. Crandall lost his 15 year old son to leukemia in 2004. A firm believer in miracles, he prayed over his son's dead body begging God to raise him from the dead, but his son showed no signs of life. Though disappointed, Dr. Crandall continued to bring the Good News into others life. 

It was the morning of September 20, 2006.  Jeff Markin recalls heading for work as usual.  What he doesn’t remember is driving himself to the hospital.

He had called his boss and told him he didn’t feel well. His boss was concerned and convinced Jeff to go to the emergency room.  Somehow Jeff made it.  Once he got there, he collapsed.

Dr. Chauncey Crandall was doing rounds in the intensive care unit that morning. He recalls, "An alert call came over the PA system that someone had arrived at the hospital with a massive deadly heart attack. Then a second call went out over the PA system and specifically asking for me because I was the cardiologist on that day. When I arrived there, it was like a war zone. It was chaos. Everyone there fighting to keep this man alive."

The ER staff worked on Jeff for 40 minutes. They shocked him a dozen times. Despite their efforts, there was no response.

Once Dr. Crandall decided the team had done everything medically possible, he called the time of death. Medically Jeff was dead, but he was still experiencing consciousness.

"I was standing in the back of a funeral home, and at that time, I determined that I had died," Jeff Markin says. "This funeral home was empty and was wondering where all my friends and family were."

While a nurse prepared Jeff’s body for the morgue, Dr. Crandall updated the charts.

"As soon as my note was completed, I walked out through the door to this emergency room and I heard this voice say, 'Turn around and pray for this man.' I wanted to ignore that voice because I said to myself, How can I pray for that man? He’s dead he’s gone. There’s no life in him, so I keep walking. The voice came back again and said, 'Turn around and pray for that man.' I stopped and thought I need to honor the Lord. So I turned around at the doorway, and I walked to the side of the body.

"The nurse was on the other side of the body, and she’s looking at me like, 'What are you doing? Why are you here?' And I stood there next to the corpse and I opened my mouth and these words came out: 'Father God, I cry out for this man’s soul. If he does not know you as his Lord and Savior, Father, raise him from the dead now, in Jesus name.‘"

‘I remember staring at bright lights and they were swirling around," Jeff says. "Out of those bright lights came an image and he told me that he was there to look over me and make sure that everything was going to be fine."

Dr. Crandall continues, "The other doctor walked in the room and I pointed to him and said, 'Shock this man one more time.' He looked at me and said, 'Dr. Crandall, we can’t shock him. He’s dead. There’s no life in him. He’s gone.' I said, 'For me, shock him one more time.' That doctor out of respect and honor for me went over to that body with those defibrillator paddles and put his paddles on that patient and shocked him. Immediately an instant heartbeat came back. Instant perfect, regular, which we’ve never seen before. “A heart that restarts usually beats irregularly before it settles into a normal rhythm,” says Dr. Crandall. The EKG registered a perfect heartbeat. Suddenly this abdomen started moving and starting breathing and then a couple moments later, the fingers started twitching.

They immediately moved Jeff to the intensive care unit. Three days later, Jeff woke up with no evidence of brain or organ damage.

"Once I woke up, my daughter Jillian was there," Jeff says. "That’s when she told me what had happened."

Dr. Crandall says, "When I came in Monday morning, Jeff was sitting up in bed, and I said, 'Where were you that day that I prayed for you in the emergency room?' And he said, 'I was in total darkness and I was so disappointed.' I said, 'Jeff, what were you disappointed about?' He said, 'I was alone for eternity.'"

Jeff recalls, "He asked me at that time if I was willing to accept God into my life and into my heart and I did. I just opened my arms and accepted God. It was just a very emotional time and I remember crying in his arms."

Today Jeff is back at work and gets regular check-ups with Dr. Crandall.

"He still has no heart problems or residual complications from his brush with death," Dr. Crandall says.

"To know what I had gone through and to be fortunate... That’s been part of my daily battle is why me," Jeff ponders. "Why have I been so fortunate to have God shine on me? It’s been tremendous. I’ve been physically reborn. I’ve been spiritually reborn, and I’m just very grateful for that."

"This day that I prayed for Jeff was a day of very little faith. It wasn’t one of my big God days," Dr. Crandall says. " I was so much in a rush with my work, and I didn’t have a lot of faith backing that prayer up that day. But the Lord asked me to do it, so I honored the Lord and prayed. That’s all we need. Just a spark of faith like that mustard seed, and when you cry out to the mighty Holy Spirit, He will take over. Miracles are real, and they’re real today."

I am humble, am I not?

It is hard to feel humble in a world full of sinners and criminals, pedophiles and prostitutes. No matter how much I try, I see myself better than the wretched of the world.  I see myself feeling satisfied about being able to do penance for my transgressions, or feeling good about attending mass on a day of non-obligation,  or feeling generous when throwing a dollar at the homeless man on the street corner, or feeling special for fasting among a gluttonous crowd. I find it hard to sympathize with a terrorist who bombed a day care center or a serial killer with a freezer full of body parts. I haven't done any of it, I haven't even imagined about doing any of it, but somehow I need to convince myself that, in order to be humble, I am no better than them! 

Each one of the aforementioned people have failed in their lives, but so have I. Magnitude of our failures does not make any difference; big or small, we all need the grace of God to overcome the failures. The same God that delivers me from my sins is the one who looks mercifully at every other fallen beings, it is the same grace that saves all of His creation. It is humbling to know that, "You did not choose Me but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain,..." (John 15:16). Everything I boast about in my daily life, my parents, my wife and kids, my siblings and other family members, the skills I have, the people I know are all given to me. Yes, I studied hard, worked harder and hardly wasted anything in my possession, but there is something more to it than that. If look hard enough, I can see the presence of a skilled craftsman in my life, perhaps I am only an instrument in his hands. Maybe when people appreciate me, the appreciation is only due to the work of the craftsman. It is even possible that they are not appreciating me after all, they appreciating the creator and the product. 

I know that I am not humble, I can never be humble. I can never think of 'being humble' as a goal, it will be too arrogant to set the parameters to reach that goal. A humble person can look at the world and ask the question "What's wrong with the world?",  immediately bow his head with the conviction that the only answer to that question is " I am". I am only able to look at him and say , "Yup, he is right". I agree because I am too HUMBLE to argue!!

Fear of God

Many of us stay away from God because it can be a scary subject. There are descriptions in the Bible about high priests who failed to follow Divine instructions while preparing the altar at the Holy Place were struck dead. Legend has it that they used to tie a rope around the high priest ankle when he entered the Holy Place, to pull his body out in case he was killed. Many of us could relate to such fears about God through stories and instructions given to us by our parents, religious educators and "wise" friends. The problem with fear is that it shrinks us and harms us, and God is not meant to be an instrument to keep us under cover, to render ourselves as inferior and incapable. This is where we need a clear distinction between fear of the world and fear of God. 

We all fear the world we live in, we are all afraid of losing it, its uncertainties are dreadful. God also has many of these features of worldly fear, we all are afraid of losing Him through our sins and we have all these fears about His fierce day of Judgement. Hence it is easy to tag him as an object of fear rather than trying to understand that God is unlike anybody or anything we have ever known. If mystery is the underlying reason to be afraid of God, then "Fear of the LORD is the beginning of Wisdom" (Proverb 1:7). Holy Fear enables us to seek knowledge to understand the ways of God, to serve Him and to love Him. So fear of God is not the fear of losing something we don't understand, it is about understanding and worshipping God with reverence. It is about being aware of and fearing His discipline, seeking to mould our lives to please Him. Fear of God doesn't have to be only about being afraid of a God who watches over us all the time to keep track of all our sins, it can also be the realization that "The eyes of the LORD roam over the whole earth, to encourage those who are devoted to him wholeheartedly" (2 Chronicles 16:9). It is the feeling of awe the psalmist felt when he heard, "Be still and know that I am GOD!" (Psalm 46:11). Fear of God can be realized in an instant, it can also be a lifetime's work.

Fear of God should open us up, it should enable us to explore the existence of something larger and wiser than us through prayer and devotion. Fear of God should set us free; free from the fear of the world, from the fear of being lost, forgotten and humiliated. Fear of God is about surrendering to Him, respecting Him, obeying Him, and allowing Him to awaken in us capabilities that we were too scared to contemplate.

It's Funny If You Think It Is #2

Recently, while allegedly going through an airport during one of his many trips, President Bush encountered a man with long gray hair and beard, wearing a white robe and sandals, holding
a staff. President Bush went up to the man and said, 'Has anyone told you that you look like Moses?'

The man didn't answer. He just kept staring straight ahead. The president said, 'Moses!' in a loud voice. The man just stared ahead, never acknowledging the president.

The president pulled a Secret Service agent aside and, pointing to the robed man, asked, 'Am I crazy or does that man not look like Moses to you? The Secret Service agent looked at the man and agreed.

'Well,' said the president, 'every time I say his name, he ignores me and stares straight ahead, refusing to speak. Watch!' Again the president yelled, 'Moses!' and again the man ignored him.

The Secret Service agent went up to the man in the white robe and whispered, 'You look just like Moses. Are you Moses?'

The man leaned over and whispered back, 'Shhhh! Yes, I am Moses. But the last time I talked to a bush, I spent 40 years wandering in the desert and ended up leading my people to the only spot in the entire Middle East with no oil.'

Creation

A group of scientists working on cloning achieve a breakthrough and so they come to God and say, “God, we have developed your power and learned how to make men out of clay just like you.” God replies, “That’s amazing, show me.”

So the scientists gather a pile of dirt to begin when God stops them and say, “No, no, no. First, create your OWN dirt”.

The Room

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. It was also the last thing he ever wrote. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off the road and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

Brian’s Essay: The Room

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I have liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “TV Shows I have watched”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented. 

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became

desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. “No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Brian Moore.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Phil 4:13) “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16) If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My “People I shared the gospel with” file just got bigger, how about yours?

And that's fair, really???

God is not fair. Though many of you might find this statement blunt and offensive, I don't know how could anyone not see it in His actions. Look at Jacob, son of Isaac in the Book of Genesis, the schemer who cheated his brother Esau out of a rightful inheritance and deceived his father though impersonation. Instead of punishing him for the bad deeds and deception, God chose to bless him. We see this unfairness in God's action in our daily life. We see it when the innocent suffer while the oppressors flourish. We see it in the eyes of children dying of hunger in many countries while the rulers throw up of overindulgence. We see it in God-fearing devotees suffering with unceasing afflictions and miseries while evildoers live a healthy life of luxury. We see it in the puzzled looks of a faithful human being when their prayers go unanswered while God abundantly bless somebody who has no faith in Him. If none of this is unfair, what do you call it then?

JESUS - The Man, The God, The ???

Hardest thing about being a Christian is grasping Jesus, the center of the religion itself. No matter how you try to ignore it or suppress it, questions about the dual nature of Jesus shows itself up every time when the name is mentioned. He walked the earth as fully human and he is fully divine, not one over the other, not one after the other, but being both at the same time in its wholeness. Give a little bit more emphasis to the divine nature of Jesus, and we are denying the incarnation, the passion and the death. Allow some lead way to the human nature and he is nothing more than a spiritual guru !!

Recently I went to a first Saturday Mass at the Our Lady of Vailankanni Shrine in Washington DC; the church had very many people from good many countries, a Bangladeshi priest said the Mass in English and all the hymns were in Tamil. I looked around and saw an African woman in her traditional native dress sitting behind an oriental woman in a skirt suit, both listening intensely to a Tamil hymn being sung during meditation after the Communion. And I got it. As I felt the presence of Jesus there, bringing together so many people with so much diversity into one group. It was an unlikely combination of culture and language to be coexisting in harmony anywhere else, just like an unlikely combination humanity and divinity coexists in Jesus Christ. 

Jesus can easily be understood when we realize that he is not just somebody who lived 2000 years ago in the Middle East. He is not some idea or principle. Jesus Christ is actively present in body, blood, soul and divinity every time when two or three are gathered in His name, whoever it may be and wherever it may be, and that is Jesus the Man and Jesus the God.

Prayer

 Everybody prays, even those who consider themselves atheists pray.  This is because, in its simplest form, a prayer is a conversation, a talk between a superior and a subordinate. The talk could be about a variety of things, anywhere from a concern to a request, it could be to express gratitude or to vent frustration. 

I was bothered with seasonal allergies for over 15 years, I was allergic to all seasons unlike the spring season for many others. It was normal for me to wake up every morning sneezing and it lasted usually a couple of hours, sometimes all day. Medicines didn't help much, so over the years I learned to cope with it. It became a problem when I began to attend the Mass every morning. Unlike Sundays, the crowd is very light on weekdays and it was impossible for me to sneeze and snort without bringing attention to myself. One day I was really frustrated with it as I exited the Church after Mass, I felt as if I was distracting everybody during the service. As I stood outside the Church sneezing, I couldn't control my anger; looking nowhere in particular I said in my mind "you know what, things are bad enough as it is and I don't need any more frustrations as I have enough. There is enough people here every morning, one less and nobody would notice. I am done coming to mass on weekdays". 

I woke up the next morning and changed my mind about not going to weekday mass. I felt something different as I was driving to the Church, but didn't know what it was. It came to me while the Mass was progressing, I was not sneezing anymore, no running nose or watery eyes. I remembered as I stood there in awe, "it is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost" (Matt 18:14). Somewhere hidden in my frustrations was an inexpressible groaning; a genuine expression of helplessness, an awareness of my incapabilities and a silent cry for help, a prayer. According to St. Paul, "inexpressible groanings" (Romans 8:26) can constitute for prayers. I was healed of my allergies through a prayer not written anywhere, it was done through a casual conversation, one between the Creator and his fallen creation.

About the Blog

My inspiration for this blog comes from an anxious and scared peasant girl who embarked on a journey to visit a relative, to the hill country of Judea. Uncertainties surrounded her life; she was unmarried and pregnant. The angel who came to announce this mysterious pregnancy was long gone. Amid all the confusion and panic, Mary was given a ray of hope to be convinced that “for nothing will be impossible for God” (Luke 1:37). Elizabeth who was called barren, according to the angel, has also conceived in her old age. Mary in effect was presented with a choice, she could stay wherever she was and trepidatiously wait, or she could commence on a journey to hear the words “Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled” (Luke 1:45). Mary chose the later.

Nineteenth century American essayist and poet Ralph Emerson wrote "Life is a journey, not a destination". Human beings are afraid of change, we dread moving, we are comfortable wherever we are, we find solace in stagnation. Somehow we find success in ignoring the fact that there no constants in us or around us; our body goes through continuous changes every living second, so does everything else around us. “No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man”, says Heraclitus the Greek philosopher. When God calls his people to service, it always involve movement; physical as well as psychological. Abraham, Moses and the Israelites, the Apostles as well Mary are all examples. It is His way of stripping the rust that has accumulated through a static lifestyle; the rust of sins, addictions, and afflictions. The journey usually requires traveling through constricted roads and the gate to enter is narrow. Those who venture out are required to have faith and trust in a God who comes through when the road looks like it is a dead end.

I write to overcome my fears. I used to anxiously await for God to come through with His promises. I resisted starting this blog because of several uncertainties I am facing in my life. My answer was a young Virgin Mother preparing for a difficult journey, she too was scared. I was reminded that it was the angel who came for annunciation, not Elizabeth. Mary had to travel to witness the mighty power of God, a God to whom everything is possible. The Holy Spirit encouraged me to join the journey to experience the marvel God's saving power. This blog is part of that journey, it constantly reminds me that I am in motion, everything seems to be in a stand still only because they too are moving. Writing helps me to discover how God's grace is always present in my life, it allows me to see God in normal things happen every day. It is a reminder that, "all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose" (Romans 8:28).

Monk on Prayer

Prayer brings understanding.

Understanding brings forgiveness.

Forgiveness brings Love.

Love conquers All.