He touched me

Apr 19, 2024

 
To Be Honest - Martin Arul

Throughout the entire Holy Week 2024, this song was incessantly playing in my head at random intervals of the day; unbeknown to me what was to unfold.

See, I was born into a very staunch Catholic family, spending most of my childhood and teenage life serving the church in various ministries. The obligation of attending Mass and giving back to the church in acts of service was instilled in us for generations, going back to my great grandfather in Sri Lanka, to now, scattered through Klang Valley with the extended family members.

Somewhere through my teenage life, I disconnected from the Church; rebelling against its teachings, defying my obligations, and blatantly vanishing from the scene. While some may argue that it is unfair to drop everything and disappear, it took a lot for me to get to that point.

My biggest gripe to this day remains this one - the people and how they appear to be self-righteous. Whilst many fulfil their obligation and live a life seemingly exemplary by the book, sadly, this is only a façade for some, while in the presence of the church and its people. Once they exit the gates of the church, minutes after receiving the body of Christ - present in the Eucharist, the horns grow and their true colours come shining through.

See, friends, the Church is never the problem, it has always been the people (not all, though) who dictate and police others. This is what drove me out of the gates of the church faster than lightning could strike the crows of Klang. Most of my teenage and adult life was about discovering God on my own; finding the balance between what the Church teaches and implementing that into my daily life. In essence, religion teaches us one thing: to love. The word LOVE appears 574 times in the Bible which, if taken on average, gives us 1.6 opportunities a day to exude love. But how many of us put that into practise?

As the years progressed and I matured into adulthood, I thought I had it all down to a tee; I live my life, I do good, I do not harm anyone and I believe in God omnipresent. I do attend Masses on days of obligation, and I identify very much as a Catholic, and a practising one. All said and done, deep down, there was still a resentment that the Church (the people, and not the institution), is unwelcoming of people; an establishment for people who are self-righteous, parading their superior faith to the very people within their circle.

Somehow, I have managed all these years. Believing that God watches and hears and listens to the prayers we bring to Him in the quiet of our hearts. What happened next, I could never be prepared for.
I had a busy day on Maundy Thursday, attending a colleague’s farewell lunch and trying to make it to Mass. Based on logistics, the Cathedral of St John would have been the closest, and wisest choice. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong - rain, traffic, laziness, you name it. But I persevered and made it to church against all setbacks.

As I walked in, I greet the priest as he was walking out. He stops me and says, “I am washing your feet.” I froze in my tracks. What do I do now? What is going to happen? Why? Why ME? I put up a little fight but he was firm, saying that he would be washing my feet that day, and promptly escorted me to the reserved seats. The entire time I was walking to the front of the church, all I could think about was an exit strategy, and to run home. My mind was racing with all sorts of thoughts, and I was anxious. How could I, a sinner, unworthy and undeserving, be given such an honour? Is this how the disciples felt, when their Lord and Master assumed the form of a servant, and knelt to wash their feet?

During the act of the washing of the feet, I was filled with great grief. My heart was heavy, and I desperately tried to fight back tears. It remains unexplainable, now weeks later. It is a sensation that weighs you down. But I will attest to the warmth and love you feel as you walk away that night; a burden lifted off your shoulder, an embrace of love of the Father, cleansed from our iniquities, and born again.

It was that very night that reignited my fire for the faith, representing the communities who are marginalised, sidelined, shunned by the people of the Church; being accepted and embraced by the likeness of the Lord Himself. This affirms my belief that we are called to live a life of LOVE outside of the walls of the church building, being an example of the LIVING Church in our daily lives, families, communities, social circles.

To be honest, the Church is evolving to be more accepting towards people from all walks of life, and so must we. The crux of Christianity is LOVE, and love we shall, through all its adversities. My hope is for a positive change in the way we embrace our societies and welcome them into a community that is non-judgmental, but one of healing and love.

(Martin Arul is a believer, who questions everything that is wrong, believing that everyone is equal in the eyes of God, and one must live as a Christian outside of the walls of the church.)