First Profession: San Juan Bautista, June 24, 2011

To the praise and glory of the Most Holy Trinity,
I, Brother Sam Nasada
since the Lord inspired me to follow more closely
the Gospel and the footprint of our Lord Jesus Christ,
before the brothers here present,
and in your hands, Brother John,
with firm faith and will, vow to God, the Holy and Almighty Father,
to live for one year, in obedience, without anything of my own, and in chastity.

And at the same time,
I profess the life and rule of the Friars Minor, confirmed by Pope Honorius,
and promise to observe it faithfully
and according to the Constitution of the Order of Friars Minor.
Therefore, I give myself to this fraternity with all my heart,
so that, through the efficacious action of the Holy Spirit,
guided by the example of Mary Immaculate,
through the intercession of our Father Saint Francis and of all the saints,
and supported by your fraternal help,
I can constantly strive for perfect charity,
in the service of God, of the Church, and of humankind.

With those words I ended my novitiate year and for the first time professed my vows as a Franciscan friar. If I choose to, and if the Province permits, I can renew my vows every year until I am eligible to profess my solemn vows, at which time I would be "fully initiated" into the Order of Friars Minor.

The First Profession ceremony was a beautiful and moving one. Our novitiate class worked together in selecting the readings and music. I was especially moved by the second reading, from St. Paul's Letter to the Colossians: "Because you are God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with heartfelt mercy, with kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.... Forgive as the Lord has forgiven you. Over all these virtues put on love, which binds the rest together and makes them perfect."

Our profession ceremony took place at the end of a weeklong retreat for the friars of St. Barbara province. The theme of that retreat was about our life in fraternity, as brothers to one another. When we picked that particular reading from Colossians, we did not realize how it would together with the retreat. I guess deep in our hearts we just knew that a big part of our vocation as Franciscans is to become brothers to one another, in and outside the order, in and outside the Catholic faith, and even to become brothers to all God's creations. The virtues that Paul mentioned in his letter are exactly the kind of attitudes that we now need to put on as we start living our vows.

Personally, I felt deeply impacted by all these profound reminders of brotherhood. After living together in a small town of San Miguel, where we saw each other almost every minute, I have come to realize that community living is not that easy. When I tell my vocation story I always mention that what attracted me first to the friars was the closeness and bond they had for each other, something that I witnessed during my first trip to different friaries along California. Now I know under that nice, smooth surface is a sea of conflicts, challenging relationships, and heartaches. In another word, I found out that they are all just human.

What makes them (now, us) a bit different is that we make a conscious decision to strive for charity, to base the way we relate to others on the Gospel and the spirit of St. Francis. This is not easy at all. I used to think that the biggest challenge for young friars would be chastity, but I have learned more and more, from my experience and that of others, that the condition of our fraternal life plays a big part in the sustaining of our vocation. Most of religious vocation crisis stories I’ve heard or read were triggered by dissatisfaction and frustration with the quality of life inside community.

I think this is the main reason why, during my recitation of the profession formula, I choked up when I reached the part that says: “Therefore, I give myself to this fraternity with all my heart…” I know this life won’t be easy and that it will involve some struggles and uncomfortable feelings. But I’m willing to give myself, my all, to this fraternity, for better and for worse, in joy and in sorrow. Only in this way, as our Provincial Minister John Hardin reminded us in his homily, that we can be a witness to the rest of the world that it is possible to live in harmony by becoming brothers and sisters to each other.

“We should not feel that close relationships are infeasible, but they are demanding. Through experience, we come to realize that in love nothing comes as easily as we expected. Everything beautiful has to be worked for.” – Eknath Easwaran

Sunrise Symphony

It's dawn at the San Solano Mission
I come out of the house and wait for sunrise
Desert birds sing on a nearby cactus tree
Each with their own distinct voice and melody
Some fly around playfully
A mother quail walks on the ground with her two young ones
A jack rabbit hops, stops and extends his two long ears, and hops away

And finally the sun wakes up in the horizon
Shining on the mountain where the Creator I'Itoi lives
And on the land of his people, the O'odham
A dry, arid land that provides so much
Foods, medicines, and housing materials
A land that has seen wars with other tribes and colonial powers
A land that has seen oppression and injustice to its inhabitants
And now it's witnessing a generation in search of its identity
Where the despairs turn to violence, drugs, alcohol, and suicide

But just as the sun rises, new hope comes each day
Bringing forgiveness to the darkness of the past
Offering healing and cleansing to the pain
And inviting this generation to start anew and rebuild the glory of the O'odham

Tohono O'odham

I feel blessed to have the opportunity to spend my vacation visiting the Franciscan friars who serve at the Tohono O'odham Indian reservation in Topawa, AZ. I'm also lucky that my visit coincides with the novices' southwest trip, it's good to see them again.

Since the novices are here, I was able to tag along with their itinerary. Today we visited the newly built, 8 million dollar state of the art Tohono O'odham Museum. We learned a little bit about their "himdag" (culture). Tohono means desert and O'odham means people. They have a rich history of agriculture, art, and foods using various desert plants and animals. Their famous symbol and philosophy is the man in the maze. The maze represents the path of life which every human being must go through, sometimes filled with uncertainties, unexpected turns, and darkness, but which eventually leads to perfection or enlightment.



Unfortunately the O'odham are going through difficult time. As Bernard, the curator at the museum shared with us, their nation has the highest rate of type II diabetes, mostly because people now prefer modern fast food than the traditional food using native vegetation.

What is more saddening is the sharing we heard tonight from Joseph Innes, a counselor who mostly work with troubled youths in the O'odham nation. It's heart breaking to hear stories about young people dying or in prison because of drugs and alcohol abuse. Gangs have also started to form and violence has become more common. Sexual abuse is frequent within a family, where the parents are too busy working or have problems with drugs and alcohol themselves. In the midst of all these problems, some young kids have lost hope and decided to commit suicide.

I asked Joseph what he thought was the root cause of all these problems. The O'odham used to be a society that is knows for its respect of the elders and high esteem for family values. He said there were many reasons, but some major ones include the introduction of alcohol by European colonists and the US government's policy of sending Indian children to boarding schools far from home and forbidding them from speaking their language and practicing their culture. This sounds very similar to Suharto regime's restriction on Chinese language and culture in Indonesia from the 1960s to 1990s. Ironically for the Indians, this happened on their own land! Not only that, the consequences can still be felt strongly even in this generation as their youths lose their identity and turn to violence, drugs, alcohol, sexual abuse, and suicides.

Listening to Joseph's experience dealing with troubled kids, especially as he choked when telling a story about an 11 year old boy who hung himself, I couldn't help feeling really angry. The racist policies of the European and American colonists have left so deep a scar in so many generations of Native Americans. The cycle of dysfunctional families producing dysfunctional children goes on and there's little sign of slowing down. I was mad I could feel my heart boiling with anger.

What humbles me is something that Joseph said at the end. Despite all that has happened, he forgives white people. He believes that forgiveness is the first step toward becoming better people and getting out of this mess. Joseph and many people like him are working very hard in restoring the positive attitude and lifestyle of so many Indian families and young people. In the midst of the violence, abuse, and suicides, they can see hope and continue their ministry among the people with unquenchable zeal.

I remember a scene from the movie Invictus, where Nelson Mandela tries very hard to convince his fellow black South Africans to forgive the whites for whatever they have done in the past and start a new era by working together to build a better nation. This came from a man who was imprisoned for 27 years because he fought for his people's rights. This came after he witnessed and experienced the discrimination and injustice toward the blacks.

Many of our struggles in life seem small compared to the black South Africans and the O'odham. Yet we often feel it difficult to ask for or grant forgiveness. These stories might inspire us to look again at our heart of stone and find glimpses of hope for reconciliation. And I pray that my brothers and sisters in the O'odham nation may one day break free of their troubles and regain their identity and values to once again become a great nation.

Praise be to you, my Lord, through Sister Death

I was reading this article on CNN online about a girl named Eva Markvoort (http://edition.cnn.com/2010/HEALTH/04/27/blog.terminal.illness/index.html). She was terminally ill, but decided to dedicate the last few years of her life to writing a blog about her experience. She filled those lonely hours in the hospital sharing her feelings, joys and sorrows, hopes and pains in the vast public space we call the internet. The same internet that is usually blamed for the spread of pornography or the ridiculousness of social networking websites now becomes an inspiration to millions of people to turn their lives around. A woman decided to quit smoking after learning how hard it is for Eva to get a lung transplant. Another person changed his mind to commit suicide after witnessing Eva's precious life.

A Franciscan priest, Richard Purcell has been struggling for years with a fatal illness called Lou Gehrig disease, which causes his nerve cells to degenerate one by one. Now he can't move his body parts except for his eyes and mouth. Since I met him a couple of years ago, during our meetings or phone conversations he has always been positive, cheerful, and would even make jokes about his condition or funeral plan.

For most of us, death has always been this dark, scary, sad thing that we don't even like to talk about. We spend our energy worrying about it and try very hard to avoid it for numerous reasons. It would take an extraordinary experience and a special grace to be able to embrace death courageously in peace.

A few days before Easter I had a strange dream. I remember being in this big lodge with a lot of people at a ski resort in the mountain. Suddenly an avalanche happens and mass of snow starts coming down from the mountain. As it gets close to the lodge, the snow melts and turns into running water. The water keeps rising up and threatens to flood the lodge and everybody in it. Somebody orders the women and children to move up to the second floor to safety while we men stay on the first floor. I feel that my life is coming to an end, but surprisingly I don't feel afraid at all. Instead, I start singing the psalm for Easter Sunday: “This is the day that the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad.” Some people around me even join me in singing. Not long after that, the water actually subsides and the lodge is saved.

My wish is that when it comes the real time for me to leave this world, I can face it with as much confidence and peace as I felt in that dream. I sometimes think how touching it would be to have people surround my deathbed and sing the South African song Freedom is Coming (especially if it's sung in 4-parts harmony plus the lead voice).

Then I read about St. Gregory the Great's account of St. Benedict's death. He wrote that when Benedict died, two monks at two different places “saw a vision of a wonderful avenue stretching up to heaven. This marvelous street rose up to the east and was paved with rich carpets and lighted by lamps.” I thought, wouldn't it be cool to have Siyahamba/We Are Marching in The Light of God as the closing song for my funeral mass, as my casket is carried out of the church? Most funeral masses I've been to always had somber songs during the service that it makes us forget about the hopeful passing into the eternal life with God.

All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those she finds doing your will!
The second death can do them no harm.
(St. Francis of Assisi, Canticle of the Creatures)

Easter Weekend: God 2 - Sam 0

I feel God played jokes on me this past Easter weekend. Twice!

Game 1:

Saturday morning during brunch, it was agreed that since we would be having a big dinner on Easter, I would do my chores of cleaning the kitchen and dining room either on Sunday night after dinner or Monday. Imagine my surprise that upon waking up from my nap I found a note from somebody that he had cleaned the dining room for me. I jumped to conclusion that it was done by this person who I always suspected to have never trusted me enough. I was angry that he chose to take matters into his own hands instead of asking me to do what should have been my responsibility.

All this year I have been learning to be a more assertive person. This incident made me think and rethink about how I should bring the issue up to him. That night I almost said something but I cowered. In effect I did not have a very good sleep because the thoughts stayed in my mind. The next morning I decided to ask my other friends to confirm if what I was going to do was right. That was when one of them revealed that it was actually him who cleaned the dining room and left the note and he had forgotten to write his name. He had done it purely to help me with my chores. I know him well and I believe that had been his only motivation.

I was so relieved, it was like this huge burden was lifted off of me. Imagine what would have happened if I decided to channel my anger toward the person who I thought had taken over my chores. I have to admit I misjudged him very poorly but at the same time I was relieved that he might not be as distrustful of me as I thought he had been. The night before when I kept having doubt whether I should talk to him or not, maybe God also did some pulling to prevent me from doing something stupid. Needless to say, that revelation changed my Easter Sunday into a day that is really worth rejoicing and being glad for.


Game 2:

Still related to that incidence on Saturday, I decided to cool my mind off by going to the gym after I got the note. I got on the bus, but instead of giving me a transfer ticket good for 2 hours as it was supposed to be, the driver gave me a ticket that would expire in a little more than 1 hour. This would mean that I had to cut my workout short. Instead of being assertive and demanding what I rightly deserved, I went up to the driver and pretended I wanted a new ticket for a different zone. He did give me a new ticket but with the same time frame. Going back to him again was definitely out of question, so I had to settle with shorter gym time.

I got out of the gym right as the bus was scheduled to arrive, right when my ticket was about to expire. The bus did come but as it pulled up, the driver opened the door to let the passengers out and told us that she had to drive the bus to the garage for some repair and the replacement bus would come in 12 minutes. I was really upset because that meant I had to spend $2 to buy a new ticket to go home. So I decided to take the light rail and another bus to go home. I went to the ticket machine to buy a new ticket and imagine what I saw: a new ticket good for another 1 hour still dangling from the machine! After all my disappointment that whole day, God gave me a clear sign that he was still watching over me.


I smile when I think back of those 2 occasions. They prove that He has a great sense of humor. In the middle of my dark clouds of anger, disappointment, and insecurities God miraculously showed that He cared for me. Indeed, He is my light and my salvation, and I should fear nothing.

Turandot and Easter

Once upon a time in China there lived Princess Turandot, the sole daughter of the mighty Emperor, the descendant of the God of Heaven. She was know as a cold, ruthless woman who condemned many people to death and scared off many potential suitors. Until one day came a foreigner called Calaf. He was mesmerized by Turandot's beauty and determined to win her heart. He was able to answer the riddles posed to him to prove that he could be a worthy husband for Turandot. Being the icy princess that she was, Turandot refused to honor the agreement to let Calaf marry her. Calaf then proposed another one by promising that she could do anything she wanted to do to him if she could find out what his name was by dawn. Turandot frantically ordered all her people to search for this stranger's name at all cost.

Unbeknown to Calaf, his father's caretaker, a peasant girl named Liu had her heart set on him. When Turandot's soldiers found out that she might know the name of the stranger, they dragged her to the princess. Liu refused to betray the man that she loved, even though it meant that she had to lose him to Turandot. Faced with a cruel torture to make her speak up, she instead chose to kill herself to everyone's disbelief.

Calaf continued his effort to win Turandot's heart. Calaf kissed her and Turandot finally gave in to him, the ice princess had melted away. She brought him to meet her father and made the announcement that she now knew what this stranger's name was: “His name is... Love!

That was a brief storyline of a great Italian opera by Giacomo Puccini. I've seen it before, live in LA and on video of a colossal production staged at Beijing's Forbidden City. But only after I listened to the CD that Brother Robert gave me for my birthday this year and in anticipation of Easter, I started to reflect deeper on this magnificent opera and how it speaks to me today.

Turandot did not know what love was and did not want to fall in love. Her ancestors' history was full of betrayals and heartbreaks. She had to take care of himself and kept her distance from other people. When Calaf entered into the picture, for the first time she experienced this unconditional and relentless love that kept trying to break into her heart. I like to think that Liu's willingness to sacrifice herself because of her persistent love for Calaf also must have had an effect in Turandot's heart.

Liu's action reminds me of Jesus' words “No one can have greater love than to lay down his life for his friends,” (John 15:13), which became a reality in his passion and dying on the cross. And like Calaf, he persistently tries to win our heart despite of our repeated rejection, avoidance, and negligence.

The most famous aria (and one of my favorites) in Turandot is Nessun Dorma, literally means “no one must sleep.” Calaf sings this song to echo Turandot's order that everybody in the city must stay awake to search for his name. But Calaf also adds in his song that Turandot must not sleep either, trembling with love and hope. He promises that he will only speak his name to her at dawn, when his lips meets hers in loving kisses. Then he says: “Step aside, moon! Go away, you stars! At dawn I will be victorious!”

He did become victorious. At dawn Turandot learned of his name, not just Calaf but something more meaningful. It's Love. In our daily life we struggle to find this mystery called Love. We search everywhere, through material things, through different spirituality practices, through people we meet. It is only when we learn who God is that we can experience what Love is. This Easter we remember that Jesus died for us, but that one Sunday at dawn he rose and became victorious, embracing all of us so that we can finally experience Love.

The Return of the Prodigal Son

This past sunday's gospel reading at mass was about the parable of the prodigal son. Fr. Ron at Our Lady of Sorrows church in southeastern Portland suggested us to read a book by the late Henry Nouwen called The Return of the Prodigal Son. The book is about Nouwen's reflection as he gazes upon Rembrandt's painting of the same name.

Nouwen's book tells the story about phases in his life that correspond to the three main characters in that painting: the wandering away but repentant younger son, his obedient but jealously-filled older brother, and their kind and loving father. There was a point in Nouwen's life when he felt like he was wandering from one place to another, from ministries to ministries, only to feel exhausted at the end and a longing for someplace called "home". Then there were times when he started to become famous and felt the jealousy and competitiveness toward other ministers or spiritual authors. It wasn't until later in his life when he was challenged to be like the father in the parable, someone who after betrayal, abandonment, and resentment stemmed from jealousy, is still able to offer his love and warm embrace.

For me, it's easy to see my life as both sons, especially the older one most recently. Being raised in a culture where the emphasis is to be the best in everything in comparison with everybody around me, I sometimes find it hard to live in a community where other people are more talented than me. I became the older son who refused to celebrate the beauty of God's gifts in others.

I never, however, considered that as someone who is made in God's image and likeness, we too are challenged to be like the father in the story. We are challenged to be someone whose love overcomes all the evil and brokenness in our society, to forgive and welcome back in loving embrace those who have done us wrong, and to invite those who feel alienated by our words or actions. We started as a repentant son, but hopefully our experience of a forgiving father can make us grow to be a loving father for others as well.

When we were lost and could not find the way to you, you loved us more than ever

Those words are taken from the Eucharistic Prayer for Mass of Reconciliation. I had heard it before during mass but was recently reminded again of the profound meaning those words have in my life.

I started going to a novena held by St. Ignatius, a Jesuit parish in SE Portland. The novena, titled "Christ with Us: At Home and in the Wilderness" is a set of prayer petitions, reflections, and Eucharist spanned over nine days this lent. The prayers are offered with the special intercession of St. Francis Xavier, a Jesuit who was probably the only canonized saint who ever visited Indonesia, and who happened to be one I chose as my confirmation saint.

The first night I went, a woman, Katie Hennessy gave the reflection talk from the pulpit. She was very emotional throughout the whole thing, quite a change from the stern and strict homilies I normally hear from priests.

Wilderness is not just this time of Lent, but something that we experience everyday. Her experience with the church right now is an intersection between home and wilderness. It's a time when on one side we feel comfortable hanging onto traditions, clear hierarchy, and an established institution but on the other hand we sometimes feel we're being alienated, betrayed, and confused. It's harder for Katie that this faith that has been embraced by her grandmother and mother is now viewed as irrelevant and untrustworthy by the younger generation in her family.

She then invited us to gaze at a print of Rembrandt's painting of "The Prodigal Son". It's important to note that Rembrandt finished painting this in the last years of his life, and what a life his was! His spending habit caused him financial difficulties throughout all his life, his first son died two months after his birth, his daughter only lived for three weeks, and a second daughter didn't make it more than one month. His last son was the only one who survived into adult age, but not long after he was born, Rembrandt's wife passed away. He then remarried but she and his son both died before he did, leaving him alone during the last years of his life. In a way, all this might have affected him when he painted the Prodigal Son.



It's easy to think that the prodigal son is the only one going through a wilderness before he comes back home to the loving embrace of his father. But the father must have been in a kind of wilderness himself, waiting day and night for his son to come back. And when he does return, it's the older brother's turn to be in a wilderness, feeling angry that his obedience and loyalty never gain him the big feast and the jubilant expression that his father showed to the other son.

Back to our current time, we are really part of the older brother and part of the younger one. We hold on to our values and tradition, only to find out that life does not always turn out as good as we expected. At other times, we feel that we screw up so much that we yearn for that forgiveness and loving embrace. Sometimes we just feel confused and lost about the way things are going on around us, with our family, workplace, circle of friends, church, society, and the world. In that kind of wilderness, it's worth remembering that profound sentence from the Eucharistic prayer again: When we were lost and could not find the way to you, you loved us more than ever.

I can't even imagine the immensity of God's normal love for us. Now you're telling me that he can love us more than ever? This is a message of hope in times of despair, a beacon of bright light in the middle of darkness. There's a comforting and liberating feeling to know that when we are in trouble, God remains with us and even loves us more.

My Way of Traveling

I stumbled upon this blog by Paulo Coelho (http://www.paulocoelhoblog.com), an author with a list of books that I'm intrigued to read on. One of his blog entry is about a different way of traveling, which mirrors my idea of a meaningful voyage. Of course he put it better in words since he's a professional writer, so here you go:


Traveling in A Different Way

By Paulo Coelho

When I was very young I discovered that, for me, a journey is the best way to learn. I still have this pilgrim’s soul to this day, and have decided to relate some of the lessons I have learned, in the hopes that they will be useful to other like-minded pilgrims.

1] Avoid museums. This advice may seem absurd, but let us reflect a little together: if you are in a foreign city, isn’t it far more interesting to seek out the present, than the past? Usually, people feel obliged to go to museums, because ever since they were small they have been told that traveling is a search for this type of culture. Of course museums are important, but they require time and objectivity – you need to know what it is you want to see there, otherwise you will come away with the impression that you saw several things which are fundamental to your life, but cannot remember what they were.

2] Frequent bars. Unlike museums, this is where the life of the city can be found. Bars are not discotheques, but places where the people gather to have a drink, pass the time, and are always willing to chat. Buy a newspaper and observe the bustle of people coming and going. If someone speaks to you, strike up a conversation, however banal: one cannot judge the beauty of a path merely by looking at its entrance.

3] Be open and forward. The best tourist guide is someone who lives there, knows everything, but doesn’t work at a travel agency. Go out into the street, choose someone you wish to speak to, and ask him or her for directions (where is such-and-such a cathedral? Where is the post office?) If this bears no fruit, try someone else – I guarantee that in the end you will find excellent company.

4] Try and travel alone, or – if you are married – with your spouse. It will be harder work, no one will be looking after you, but this is the only way of truly leaving your country. Group travel is just a disguised way of pretending to go abroad, where you speak your own language, obey the leader of the pack, and concern yourself more with the internal gossip of the group than with the place you are visiting.

5] Don’t compare. Don’t compare anything – not prices, nor cleanliness, nor quality of life, nor means of transport, nothing! You are not traveling in order to prove you live better than others – your search, in fact, is to find out how others live, what they have to teach, how they view reality and the extraordinary things in life.

6] Understand that everyone understands you. Even if you don’t speak the language, don’t be afraid: I have been in many places in which there was no way of communicating with words, and I always found support, guidance, important suggestions, even girlfriends. Some people think that if you travel alone, you will go out into the street and be lost forever. All you need is the hotel card in your pocket, and – should you find yourself in extreme circumstances – take a taxi and show it to the driver.

7] Don’t buy much. Spend your money on things which you won’t have to carry: good theater, restaurants, walks. Nowadays, with the global market and the Internet, you can have everything you want without having to pay for excess baggage.

8] Don’t try and see the world in a month. It is better to stay in one city for four or five days, that visit five cities in a week. A city is like a capricious woman, who needs time to be seduced and reveal herself completely.

9] A journey is an adventure. Henry Miller said that it is far more important to discover a church no one has heard of, than go to Rome and feel obliged to visit the Sistine Chapel, with two hundred thousand tourists shouting all around you. Go to the Sistine Chapel, but also get lost in the streets, wander down alleyways, feel free to look for something, without knowing what it is. I swear you will find it and that it will change your life.

A Lenten Reflection

I was reading The Oregonian newspaper last sunday when I came upon an article in their Parade magazine insert about the singer Elton John. When he first became rich and famous after moving from England to America, he fell into alcohol and drugs addiction. This went on for almost 20 years, until he met Ryan White, a 12-year-old hemophiliac in Indiana who had contracted AIDS through a blood transfusion. In Elton's own words:

"It was crazy. Every time I stopped taking drugs, after a period of time I'd go back. It got worse and worse. I pushed away my friends. I was surrounded by drug addicts. What finally opened my eyes was Ryan White."

He then continued:

"I read in a magazine that Ryan was not allowed to go to school because he had AIDS. Firebombs were being put in his family's letter box. I was enraged. I helped the White family move. I spent the last week of Ryan's life in 1990 with him in an Indianapolis hospital. He'd endured all this hatred. He was never bitter. I never heard him complain. There was something wonderful in this family-they were losing their son, yet the were still able to forgive the hatred of others. "

He remembered thinking:

"Look at me. I have everything I want, and I complain about a hotel room because I don't like the wallpaper? What happened to me? I was a nice, decent boy, and now I'm a self-obsessed drug addict."

Elton then decided to become sober, and has been ever since.

As we enter this holy season of Lent, what I'm hearing most from people around me is remembering not to eat meat on fridays, or looking for something to abstain from during these 40 days: meat, chocolate, cigarettes, facebook, twitting. In all honesty, I too have done something similar in the past.

What I'm realizing now is all those things come short to what Lent is really about. Lent is about the conversion of heart. Each year we need to find a way that can bring us closer to God. Abstaining from some kind of food and habit is useless if we just stop there without reflecting what the whole experience means to us and how we are called to reform our lives.

Remember the first reading from Ash Wednesday: Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God (Joel 2:13). It's not the physical thing that God wants from us, but it's our change of heart.

It's not too late to ask God to guide us in finding something we can do to help our conversion process this Lent. May we be able to find the "Ryan White" in our life that can stir some changes within us. Hopefully by Good Friday we can put to death that little part of our old self that we want to reform, and rise with Jesus as a new person on Easter Sunday.

For the full article on Elton John's story in Parade magazine:
http://www.parade.com/celebrity/2010/02/elton-john.html