Believe in God, Not Idols (Leviticus 19:4)

Found this awesome article by Alvin Teoh online.

**Leviticus 19:4 - 'Do not turn to idols or make gods of cast metal for yourselves. I am the LORD your God.'


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The ‘apparition’ of Mother Mary at SJMC has gone viral. And some who went to see it at SJMC reported it felt like a Church Feast Day.
I didn’t go, so I assume there’s like a mini fanfare there. And a few probably praying the Rosary.

Do I believe in apparitions?

Yes. For sure.

Do I believe that what’s happening in SJMC is authentic?

I don’t know and I am not really bothered.

But this I know. I am disturbed that so many are making a big deal out of it and calling it an apparition already.

I saw the pictures. It’s beautiful. Even has a faint image of a black string between the chest and the belly, which is
a Jewish custom announcing that a woman is with child. You can see that in Our Lady of Guadalupe.

Yes, it’s stunning. But for all I know, it could be dirt, grime, a stain caused by natural elements.

Like other Mary or Jesus pictures on a toast.

On a patch of oil.

On the tree bark.

On a baby’s bottom as a birthmark.

And it attracts throngs of Catholics and curious seekers.

Ok, here’s something to think about.

In 2000 years of the Church’s history, only two images are considered beyond scientific explanation.
(I am avoiding the word ‘miraculous’ here on purpose.)

One is the Shroud of Turin. (the latest tests keeps revealing new things which continues to baffles the scientists)
And the other is the image of Our Lady of Guadalupe. (and this one is even more amazing than the above. No disrespect intended, Lord)

Every other patch of image, and there are thousands, have come and gone. So why all this big hoohaa over this one at SJMC?

Here’s why I find all this attention disturbing.

And I’ll use 2 sources to explain. One is the Bible. And the other is the words of Pope John Paul 2.

I understand sometimes, we have a desire to see something ‘miraculous’ cause we want a confirmation that what we believe is real. Like say, a blind man regaining sight at a healing service (as in places like Potta), the multiplication of food to feed the poor (as in El Paso), and, er, an image from heaven, (Guadalupe, Turin, ect). Which is ironic, cause the Bible clearly states that ‘Faith is believing in things unseen, and the reward of faith is seeing what we believe.’ And of course, the other famous line; ‘Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.’

Anyway, I have digressed. Back to my two sources:
We want to see the divine. Me included.

So the Bible says… Feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, comfort the sick, clothe the naked… and so on…
because Jesus said, what you’ve done unto one of these, you’ve done unto me.

Pope John Paul 2 repeated that teaching more clearly;
“You want to see Jesus? Go to the poor!”

So, this is it.

The Divine is found in people. Poor people, to be more precise.

The orphan.

The homeless.

The refugee.

The widowed.

The battered.

The lost.

The ones in despair.

The ones in prison.

The single mother.

The persecuted.

The ones suffering in hospitals.

Do we run to them like we run to an image on a window?
And speaking of the ones suffering in hospitals, we run to SJMC to snap a picture of some stain on a window
and call it an apparition, a reminder of the divine in our midst, but we don’t see the ones behind that window,
the ones who are ill, or lonely, or afraid, or in pain.

We get all excited about a stain on a glass.
But the Living God who is all around us in people, we forget to see.

Here’s one last thought.

Say, this image is an authentic one.
(And if so, I want to ask God one day why he chose a tiny window on some hospital to do this. I mean, why not a clearer
image in a window in Putra Jaya that cannot be washed away or something.)

Ok, it’s authentic. You saw it.

Did it increase your faith?

Are you more prayerful?

And make prayer concrete by;

Feeding the hungry?

Giving drink to the thirsty?

Clothing the naked?

Comforting the sick?

Visiting the imprisoned?

Did it make you wanna fight for justice?

Banish selfishness from yourself and be a witness?

Evangelise?

Use your gifts for the Kingdom?

If yes, praise God.

If no, then what’s all the big deal with an image of Mary on some window?

Anyways, if this image is indeed a message from Heaven, we don't have to try too hard to figure out what that message is:

In the Bible, Mary's one single recorded command: Do whatever my Son tells you.

And in Fatima and Akita, it's 'Pray, Repent, Go back to God'

It's a call to holiness. And holiness is rooted in God. And God is love.
And love is action:

- Feed the hungry!

- Give drink to the thirsty!

- Clothe the naked!

- Comfort the sick!

- Visit the imprisoned!

I want to end with a story. During the earliear renewal days, I was 10 times more hungry for God than now. If there was one time I dare claim that I really tried to put God in the center of everything, it was then.

I started evangelising at every opportunity. Started cell groups, prayer gorups, that sorta thing. I saw people healed of cancer, depression, oppresion, and a life enslaved by crime. It was really exciting. Most of all, I wanted to see Jesus. I want to see His face, hear His voice and all that.

I was depressed when that did not happen. But I kept it a secret. Kept running prayer meetings week after week, month after month. Outside, I was all hallelujah-like. Inside, I was all confussd.

Around the same time, Mother Mary started speaking to a lady in my Church. It's a long story I won't bother to bore you with. In brief, she dictated letters to 12 people. Very personal ones, revelaing little stories from their past that they only would know. Anyways, that made these 12 form a group that serves the neglected.

One fine Sunday, this lady, with great humility, approached me and started with an apology. She then presented me a letter which was from Mother Mary. She was afraid I'd laugh at her or call her a religious freak, but she passed it to me anyways.

That letter hit me hard. I'll only share one line here:

'You are sad because you cannot see the face of my Son. So you look everywhere. But don't you know you see His face all the time? You see Him in the faces of the people you serve.'

Well that did it for me. It changed me forever.

From then on, I stopped looking for sign and wonders. I looked at people. And I hope I've not let God down too much.

Graffiti KL (XXIV) - KUL Sign Festival 2012

Calvary Love, by amy carmichael

If I have not companion on my fellow-servant even as my Lord had pity on me, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I belittle those whom I am called to serve, talk of their weak points in contrast perhaps with what I think of as my strong points; if I adopt a superior attitude, forgetting “Who made thee to differ? And what has thou that thou hast not received?”  then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I can easily discuss the shortcomings and the sins of any; if I can speak in a casual way even of a child’s misdoings, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I find myself half-carelessly taking lapses for granted, “Oh, that’s what they always do,”  “Oh, of course she talks like that, he acts like that,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I enjoy a joke at the expense of another; if I can in any way slight another in conversation, or even in thought, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I can write an unkind letter, speak an unkind work, think an unkind thought without grief and shame, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I do not feel far more for the grieved Saviour than for my worried self when troublesome things occur, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I know little of His pitifulness (the Lord turned and looked upon Peter), if I know little of His courage of hopefulness for the truly humble and penitent (“He saith unto him, Feed My Lambs”), then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I deal with wrong for any other reason than that implied in the words, “From His right hand went a fiery law for them.  Yea, He loved the people”; if I can rebuke without a pang, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If, in dealing with one who does not respond, I weary of the strain, and slip from under the burden, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cannot bear to be like the father who did not soften the rigors of the far country; if, in this sense, I refuse to allow the law of God (the way of transgressors is hard) to take effect, because of the distress it causes me to see that law in operation, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I am perturbed by the reproach and misunderstanding that may follow action taken for the good of souls for whom I must give account; if I cannot commit the matter and go on in peace and in silence, remembering Gethsemane and the Cross, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cannot catch “the sound of noise of rain”* long before the rain falls, and, going to some hilltop of the spirit, as near to my God as I can, have not faith to wait there with my face between my knees, though six times or sixty times I am told “there is nothing,” till at last “there arises a little cloud out of the sea,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

*1Kings 18:41

If my attitude be one of fear, not faith, about one who has disappointed me; if I say, “Just what I expected,” if a fall occurs, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I do not look with eyes of hope on all in whom there is even a faint beginning, as our Lord did, when, just after His disciples had wrangled about which of them should be accounted the greatest, He softened His rebuke with those heart-melting words, “Ye are they which have continued with Me in My temptations,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cast up a confessed, repented, and forsaken sin against another, and allow my remembrance of that sin to color my thinking and feed my suspicions, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I have not the patience of my Saviour with souls who grow slowly; if I know little of travail (a sharp and painful thing) till Christ be fully formed in them, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I sympathize weakly with weakness, and say to one who is turning back from the Cross, “Pity thyself”; if I refuse such a one the sympathy that braces and the brave and heartening word of comradeship, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cannot keep silence over a disappointing soul (unless for the sake of that soul’s good or for the good of others it be necessary to speak), then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I can hurt another by speaking faithfully without much preparation of spirit, and without hurting myself far more than I hurt that other, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I am afraid to speak the truth, lest I lose affection, or lest the one concerned should say, “You do not understand,” or because I fear to lose my reputation for kindness; if I put my own good name before the other’s highest good, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I am content to heal a hurt slightly, saying “Peace, peace,” where is no peace; if I forget the poignant word “Let love be without dissimulation” and blunt the edge of truth, speaking not right things but smooth things, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I fear to hold another to the highest goal because it is so much easier to avoid doing so, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

           

If I hold on to choices of any  kind, just because they are my choice; if I give any room to my private likes and dislikes, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I put my own happiness before the well-being of the work entrusted to me; if, though I have this ministry and have received much mercy, I faint, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I am soft to myself and slide comfortably into the vice of self-pity and self-sympathy; if I do not by the grace of God practice fortitude, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I myself dominate myself, if my thoughts revolve round myself; if I am so occupied with myself I rarely have “a heart at leisure from itself,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

IF, the moment I am conscious of the shadow of self crossing my threshold, I do not shut the door, and in the power of Him who works in us to will and to do, keep that door shut, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cannot in honest happiness take the second place (or the twentieth); if I cannot take the first without making a fuss about my unworthiness, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If, when I am able to discover something which has baffled others, I forget Him who revealeth the deep and secret things, and knoweth what is in the darkness and showeth it to us; if I forget that it was He who granted that ray of light to His most unworthy servant, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I cannot be at rest under the Unexplained, forgetting the word, “And blessed is he whosoever shall not be offended in Me:’ of if I can allow the least shadow of misunderstanding, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I do not give a friend “the benefit of the doubt,” but put the worst construction instead of the best on what is said or done, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I take offense easily, if I am content to continue in a cool unfriendliness, though friendship be possible, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If a sudden jar can cause me to speak an impatient, unloving word, then I know nothing of Calvary love.*

            *For a cup brimful of sweet water cannot spill even one drop of bitter water

however suddenly jolted.

If I feel injured when another lays to my charge things that I know not, forgetting that my Sinless Saviour trod this path to the end, then I  know nothing of Calvary love.

If I feel bitterly towards those who condemn me, as it seems to me, unjustly, forgetting that if they knew me as I know myself they would condemn me much more, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I say, “Yes, I forgive, but I cannot forget,” as though the God who twice day washes all the sands on all the shores of all the world, could not wash such memories from my mind, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If one whose help I greatly need appears to be as content to build in wood, hay, stubble, as in gold, silver, precious stones, and I hesitate to obey my light and do without that help because so few will understand, then, I know nothing of Calvary love.

If the care of a soul (or a community) be entrusted to me, and I consent to subject it to weakening influences, because the voice of the world – my immediate Christian world – fills my ears, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If by doing some work which the undiscerning consider “not spiritual work” I can best help others, and I inwardly rebel, thinking it is the spiritual for which I crave, when in truth it is the interesting and exciting, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If monotony tries me, and I cannot stand drudgery; if stupid people fret me and little ruffles set me on edge; if I make much of the trifles of life, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I am inconsiderate about the comfort of others, or their feelings, or even of their little weaknesses; if I am careless about their little hurts and miss opportunities to smooth their way; if I make the sweet running of household wheels more difficult to accomplish, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If interruptions annoy me, and private cares make me impatient; if I shadow the souls about me because I myself am shadowed, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If souls can suffer alongside, and I hardly know it, because the spirit of discernment is not in me, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If there be any reserve in my giving to Him who so loved that He gave His Dearest for me; if there be a secret “but” in my prayer, “anything but that, Lord,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I become entangled in any “inordinate affection”; if things or places or people hold me back from obedience to my Lord, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If something I am asked to do for another feels burdensome; if, yielding to an inward unwillingness, I avoid doing it, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If the praise of man elates me and his blame depresses me; if I cannot rest under misunderstanding without defending myself; if I love to be loved more than to love, to be served more than to serve, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I crave hungrily to be used to show the way to liberty to a soul in bondage, instead of caring only that it is be delivered; if I nurse my disappointment when I fail, instead of asking that to another the word of release may be given, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I want to be known as the doer of something that has proved the right thing, or as the one who suggested that it should be done, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I do not forget about such a trifle as personal success, so that it never crosses my mind, or if it does, is never given a moment’s room there; if the cup of spiritual flattery tastes sweet to me, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If it be not simple and a natural thing to say, “Enviest thou for my sake? Would God that all the Lord’s people were prophets,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

IF in the fellowship of service I seek to attach a friend to myself, so that others are caused to feel unwanted; if my friendships do not draw others deeper in, but are ungenerous (to myself, for myself), then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I refuse to allow one who is dear to me to suffer for the sake of Christ, if I do not see such suffering as the greatest honor that can be offered to any follower of the Crucified, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I slip into the place that can be filled by Christ alone, making myself the first necessity to a soul instead of leading it to fasten upon Him, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If my interest in the work of others is cool; if I think in terms of my own special work; if the burdens of others are not my burdens too, and their joys mine, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If, when an answer I did not expect comes to a prayer which I believed I truly meant, I shrink back from it; if the burden my Lord asks me to bear be not the burden of my heart’s choice, and I fret inwardly and do not welcome His will, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

           

If I avoid being “ploughed under,” with all that such ploughing entails of rough handling, isolation, uncongenial situations, strange tests, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I wonder why something trying is allowed, and press for prayer that it may be removed; if I cannot be trusted with any disappointment, and cannot go on in peace under any mystery, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I make much of anything appointed, magnify it secretly to myself or insidiously to others; if I let them think it “hard,” if I look back longingly upon what used to be, and linger among the byways of memory, so that my power to help is weakened, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If the love that “alone maketh light of every heavy thing, and beareth evenly every uneven thing” is not my heart’s desire, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I refuse to be a corn of wheat that falls into the ground and dies (“is separated from all in which it lived before”), then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I ask to be delivered from trial rather than for deliverance out of it, to the praise of His glory; if I forget that the way of the Cross leads to the Cross and not to a bank of flowers; if I regulate my life on these lines, or even unconsciously my thinking, so that I am surprised when the way is rough, and think it strange, though the word is, “Think it not strange,” “Count it all joy,” then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If the ultimate, the hardest, cannot be asked of me; if my fellows hesitate to ask it and turn to someone else, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

If I covet any place on earth but the dust at the foot of the Cross, then I know nothing of Calvary love.

            That which I know not, teach Thou me, O lord, my God.

Quotation by Jung

People will read the gospel again and again and myself will read it again and again. But they will read it with much more profit if they have some insight into their own psyches. Blind are the eyes of anyone who does not know his own heart, and I always recommend the application of a little psychology so that he can understand things like gospel still better.

(Carl Gustav Jung)

Graffiti KL (XXIII) - KUL Sign Festival 2012

A poem by Matthias Loy

The law of God is good and wise
And sets his will before our eyes
Shows us the way of righteousness
And doomd to death when we transgress

Its light of holiness imparts
The knowledge of our sinful hearts
That we may see our lost estate
And seek deliverance ere too late

To those who help in Christ have found
And would in works of love abound
It shows what deeds are his delight
And should be done as good and right

When men the offered help disdain
And wilfully in sin remain
Its terror in their ear resounds
And keeps their wickedness in bounds

The law is good; but since the fall
It's holiness condemns us all
It dooms us for sin to die
And has no power to justify

To Jesus we for refuge flee
Who from the curse has set us free
And humbly worship at his throne
Saved by his grace by faith alone

[Matthias Loy, 1863]

Can Christian Eat Food Offered to Idol?

Food Offered to Italian Idol

 

The mental problem lies in the fact that this person still believes idols are real. He still believes, in his heart of hearts, that the sacrifice offered to an idol is a real sacrifice to a real god. He still believes, therefore, that the surplus meat which finds its way from the temple to the market really is tainted by its association with the pagan temple and idol. He cannot shake himself free from this conviction, burned into sould by years of paganism before he met Christ, or by the rigid upbringing he had as a Jew before his conversion to Christ. The moral problem lies in the fact that, although this believer still has his belief, he eats the meat anyway. By doing so he injures his conscience. The defilement he incurs does not come from the meat, because the meat itself is not defiled. It comes from doing something his conscience has decided is wrong – even though, in actual fact, it may really be wrong at all. 
The apostle continues. The weak brother’s conscience not only binds him, it blinds him. It blinds him both to the reality of God and to the requirements of God: “but meat commendeth us not to God: for neither if we eat, are we the better, neither, if we eat not, we are the worse” (1 Cor 8:8). God is not small-minded. Our acceptance by Him simply not affectred by what we eat or drink. God is far more concerned as to whether or not one has a pure heart that whether or not the the roast beef he had for supper came from an idol temple at some point in its journey from the farm to the table. We cannot help but admire Paul’s sanctified common sense. The strong believer thinks that he can eat anything. That does not make him any better. The weak believer thinks there are some things he cannot eat. He’s no worse for that. 

(John Phillips, Exploring 1 Corinthians)