Humility blossoms in Generosity

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Recently, I attended a friend’s sacerdotal anniversary celebration. I was given the honour to be seated at the main VIP table that was strategically placed at the very centre of the hall. Apart from the stage, all eyes were laser focused on this table and all who sat at it. If given a choice, I would have asked for an obscure table at the side. My request was not made out of humility but out of selfish convenience. It’s easier to make a bee line for the restrooms when you are at the side and no one would notice that you are attempting to make an early exit.

So, the advice provided by the Lord in today’s gospel with regard to etiquette behaviour at a wedding feast where we are invited as guests does not immediately strike me as self-deprecating. Some may even describe it as a cunning and manipulative way of getting upgraded instead of suffering the humiliation of being downgraded.

On this day, as we celebrate our Independence Day, though not exactly the foundation of our federal nation, and as we also celebrate our Parish Community as family, we are provided with a lesson on two important virtues which are essential to harmonious living and being neighbourly - humility and generosity.

In fact, these two virtues are intimately connected. Humility, a virtue often misconstrued, stands in stark contrast to entitlement, the enemy of generosity. Humility thrives in restraint, obscurity, and vulnerability, not seeking validation or retribution against those who have wronged us. It’s a hidden treasure of the soul, more intrigued by the inner sanctum than the spotlight. Humility lies down and waits—not in a defeated way but in a way that brings peace. People who have little patience have little humility. They feel entitled to instant gratification. When impatience begins to drain from us, we begin to listen. Humility can feel tiresome, but mostly when we are fighting it.

On the other hand, pride drives the need for entitlement. We give not out of the generosity of the heart but expecting something in return, which exposes false generosity for what it is - a self-serving attitude. If we do something good for others, it is not for their benefit but for ours and we feel upset when they show little gratitude or acknowledgement. Entitlement is the new disease of pride gone unchecked. Instead of rejoicing over the blessings which others have received, the sense of entitlement leads to resentment.

But our Lord tells us in today’s gospel that true generosity involves giving without the expectation of receiving anything in return. No strings attached. No quid pro quo. So often, our mindset is to give something in order to get something. We make friends because it is advantageous to do so. We give compliments to get one back. We love in order to be loved. No matter what it is, there’s often an expectation to our giving. But real generosity doesn’t have that same expectation. God gave us Jesus, not because we gave Him anything to deserve or earn this gift, but simply because He chose to do so out of the generosity of His heart. It was an intentional and loving gift—one that demonstrates true, unwavering generosity.

On this day as we reflect over our common citizenship and fraternal bond as sisters and brothers in the Body of Christ, let us make every effort to reject pride and entitlement, which are twin diseases that do not only eat into the very core of our being but also into the foundation of our society and community. In place of pride, let us seek humility. Instead of demanding something from the community, from the Church or from our country, let us be ever generous to see in what way can we contribute to the betterment of our society. Let us remember those immortal words of John F. Kennedy, spoken at his inaugural address as president of the United States: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” I would also add: “Ask not what your Church can do for you, ask what you can do for your Church.”

Are you saved?

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Our Lord gives us a frightening parable of judgment in answer to the question: “Sir, will there be only a few saved?” You may think that this question is ludicrous, that it’s making a mountain out of a molehill. You may even volunteer to beat Jesus in giving the answer to this man: “of course not! Don’t you know that everyone’s going to be saved?” Although official Catholic teaching and Protestant understanding of salvation shares many points in common, this is where they defer – at least in popular imagination. Many Catholics believe that everyone is going to heaven while Protestants think that almost everyone, unless you are a true Christian believer, is going to hell.

When Protestants ask Catholics if they have been saved, the question would most likely be met with a stunned look on the part of the Catholic or an admission that he has never thought about this before. This comes as good news to the Protestant as he can now confidently proselytise the Catholic and ensure that the latter is saved by becoming a Bible believing, faith professing Protestant Christian. For many Protestants, one becomes a Christian by merely making a confession of faith in Jesus as Saviour and Lord. Baptism comes later but isn’t necessary for our salvation. I guess the reason why most Catholics are not prepared with an answer to that question is that salvation or rather, heaven, is something they often take for granted. Why worry about this moot issue when we can all get to heaven?

Perhaps, this common Catholic misunderstanding of universal salvation can be far more dangerous than the Protestant heretical position of being saved once and for all by grace alone. When you believe that salvation is guaranteed whether you’ve lived a good life or not in conformity to Christ’s teachings and God’s will, it is called the sin of presumption, which is a sin against hope. On presumption, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “There are two kinds of presumption. Either man presumes upon his own capacities, (hoping to be able to save himself without help from on high), or he presumes upon God’s almighty power or his mercy (hoping to obtain his forgiveness without conversion and glory without merit).” (CCC 2092) When people are presumptuous, they are living in denial of the truth. And because they are living in denial, they will not repent of his or her own sin.

I have often tried to explain the Catholic position on salvation to both Catholics and non-Catholics by using this analogy of being shipwrecked in the middle of an ocean. We’re like the survivors of a shipwreck in a storm out in mid-ocean. Just imagine being in this situation. The nearest shoreline is just too far for even the strongest swimmer. You won’t be able to save yourself. The only way that we can get out of this situation is that we are saved. And the good news is that we have been rescued from drowning by the Lord Jesus Himself, our Saviour, and welcomed onboard the ship we call the Church. That ship is now taking us to a safe harbour — our home in heaven with God. For Protestants, being saved is the end of the story and they don’t even believe you need a boat for this. But for Catholics, baptism, being rescued into the ship is just the first step. But we’re not home yet.

You could say, then, that we’ve been “saved” in the sense of being rescued and taken aboard a safe vessel. But we can’t really speak of being “saved” in the full sense until we reach our destination. We must humbly admit that we haven’t yet arrived at final perfection. Meanwhile, we also must recognise the sobering possibility that — God forbid — we could choose someday to jump overboard again. Salvation isn’t guaranteed just because of something we’ve done in the past. We continue to have a free will, which is part of God’s likeness in us. So we still have the ability to turn away from God again. It’s a chilling possibility. But it shouldn’t make us perpetually worried that we’ll be damned despite our best efforts to grow in grace. We can be confident that God desires our salvation, and He’s faithful to help us. And He does so by providing us with the Sacraments. If we’re tempted to forsake Him, He’ll grant us the power to resist that temptation. He will even send a lifeboat to rescue us again through the sacrament of penance. Even so, the choice is still ours.

If we can’t be certain as to the final statistics on the population of heaven and hell, there are some things we can know with certainty because our Lord has revealed this to us, leaving no room for speculation.

Firstly, Hell is real and it is everlasting. We may not hear much about hell these days and we may not even like to, but silence on the subject does not make the reality of Hell go away. Infact the denial of hell leads ultimately to the trivialising of heaven. But a healthy understanding of the pains and horrors of hell, will lead us to an authentic appreciation of the joys of heaven.

Secondly, life is a series of choices. We can either choose to take a) the difficult path that leads to the narrow gate and life, and b) the broad path which leads to the wide gate and destruction. The narrow path is the way of the Cross which our Lord undertook, and we must follow in our respective way. The second reading from Hebrews reminds us that the suffering we endure is not the result of a cruel sadistic God but because “suffering is part of your training; God is treating you as his sons.” It is a popular error of our time to believe that it does not matter which road one takes. Some believe that all roads are like spokes on a wheel, all leading to the same place—Heaven. In fact, we make choices every day that draw us closer to God or lead us farther away from Him. That’s why simply believing in Jesus isn’t enough. Friendship with God, like friendship of any kind, is more than just getting acquainted. It involves making a series of choices to love over the long term, so that a committed relationship grows. Faith is useless then, without good works. God must have our active cooperation, because both our mind and our will — the full likeness of God — must be renewed if we’re to be saved in the end.

Thirdly, there is an urgency to making the right decision. Time is of the essence. No time for procrastination or putting off what must be done today. Our Lord speaks of the time when the householder will arise, shut and lock the door. That corridor of opportunity will not always be opened and if mistaken that it is always open may lead to our destruction.

Finally, we must make our own salvation and the salvation of all those around us, our top priority in this life. As the old Catholic adage reminds us: “the salvation of souls is the supreme law!” Nothing else ranks anywhere close in importance—not health, wealth, career, popularity, possessions or acclaim by others. Know what you must do to be saved and work out that salvation in fear and trembling.

Today, let us not be guilty of the sin of presumption that Heaven is guaranteed no matter how or which way we live our lives. Truly, our Lord Jesus is the Divine Mercy. Truly, He wishes and desires for all of us to be saved. But more urgently, He wants us to understand that there can be no other way to salvation other than passing through the Narrow Door. He is that Narrow Doorway to Heaven. It is the Gospel of Christ, paid by His own blood on the cross. It is demanding. It demands that we make the ultimate sacrifice by turning our backs on all the false gods that have become the defining elements in our lives. It demands repentance on our part.

Proclaiming the Glory of God

Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Today’s feast does not sit well with Protestants. It will be no surprise that those for whom the bible is paramount, for whom nothing can be said without clear biblical justification, the doctrine of the Assumption is not something they are easy with. We use the gospel reading on the Visitation, because there is nothing in the gospels that describes the Assumption in the way that the Visitation is described. Elsewhere, Psalm 132, where the Blessed Virgin is interpreted as the “Ark of God” that is taken into heaven, is cited. Along with similar interpretations of Genesis 3:15, 1 Corinthians 15:54, and Revelation 12:1-2, this hardly amounts to an explicit expression of the dogma of the Assumption; on their own, they are not a ringing endorsement. So, why is this gospel passage selected for today? How do we draw a trajectory from the Visitation to that of the Assumption?

We know so little of Mary even from the few scriptural references to her. How could the Church, therefore, make this leaping conjecture to speak of her as the most honoured and glorified creature of God, exalted above all creation, and uniquely sharing the privilege of incorruptibility of her Son at the end of her earthly sojourn? I would like to propose that the answer to all these questions is found in the great hymn of Mary, the Magnificat, described by Pope Benedict XVI as a “marvelous canticle (that) mirrors the entire soul, the entire personality of Mary. We can say that this hymn of hers is a portrait of Mary, a true icon in which we can see her exactly as she is.”

The Blessed Virgin Mary confesses in the inspired hymn, guided by the Holy Spirit, that the source of her “greatness” and “blessedness” is not found in any personal merit but in God. She does not exalt herself as others are prone of doing but immediately the greatness of God when she hears of Elizabeth’s praise of her and the child within her womb. Just as the Magnificat is a song that glorifies and exalts God, today’s feast of the Assumption is an Opus Magnum to God who raises her up to share in His heavenly glory. 

The erudite Pope Benedict continues to explain: “Mary wanted God to be great in the world, great in her life and present among us all. She was not afraid that God might be a “rival” in our life, that with his greatness he might encroach on our freedom, our vital space. She knew that if God is great, we too are great. Our life is not oppressed but raised and expanded: it is precisely then that it becomes great in the splendour of God. The fact that our first parents thought the contrary was the core of original sin. They feared that if God were too great, he would take something away from their life. They thought that they could set God aside to make room for themselves.”

But this is not the case of Mary. She understood that her lowliness and littleness was the perfect occasion for God to exhibit His power and greatness. This was no virtue-signaling stemming from a misguided sense of false humility. Although what God had done and was doing in her life was radically new, because nothing like the Incarnation had ever happened or could ever be conceived, it was not a radical departure from what God had done in history and will continue to do until the end of time. The Assumption is precisely the best testimony and proof of what the Lord has promised to do in scripture and what Mary had sung in this song of praise. 

The difficulty of Protestants and other detractors in accepting the dogma of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is that they often confuse this event with the Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ. At a superficial level, one could say that the Ascension is recorded in the gospels while Mary’s Assumption isn’t. If the Bible was the only record of revelation, this would be irrefutable proof that the belief in the Assumption is untenable. Case closed. Full stop. But for us Catholics, the deposit of faith is not only found in written Sacred Scripture but also in oral Sacred Tradition, the former affirming the validity of the latter. Although there is no record of the life and death of Mary after the death, resurrection and Ascension of her Son, Sacred Tradition provides us with the source material to fill in the blanks. While the relics and tombs of the apostles were venerated from the earlier centuries, Mary left no first relic  of her physical body. But we honour the place where she was buried and just like her Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, the tomb is empty. There is no body because as the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: "Finally the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death."The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son's Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians.”"

So, the real fundamental difference between the Ascension of our Lord and the Assumption of our Lady would be their respective causes. The Ascension of Christ was by His own power. Only Christ has ascended to Heaven. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus told Nicodemus, ”No one has ascended into Heaven but he who descended from Heaven, the Son of man” (John 3:13). But the Glorification of Mary’s body and her Assumption was not by her own power, however. It was by the decision and act of God. So, to deny that it is impossible for Mary to be assumed into heaven both body and soul, is a direct affront to the sovereignty and power of God - to assert that God is powerless to do so.

Although the Assumption of Mary and the Ascension of the Lord are two different events, both of them indicate a way of elevation for us, human and spiritual, to which we are all called. The beauty of these callings is that they invite interior growth, renovation and transformation in our lives. Furthermore, these celebrations of our Church remind us that “death” is not the end of our human story. Death is just a transition to the true life with God, life eternal in the fullness of God’s love.

 

At the end of Mary’s life on earth, Mary is taken up to heaven in body and soul. She, who never knew sin, was assumed into heaven and never experienced corruption. Mary, as the new Eve, fulfilled God’s plan from the beginning of creation. Mary always lived perfectly in the will of God. The handmaid of the Lord has laid down for us the perfect model of discipleship that we may follow. We are called to live in the will of God and we don’t have to do this alone. She is there to help us.

Fire and Baptism

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Most people who volunteer to serve in church are often moved by a sincere passion to do good, to make a difference and to contribute something to the building of the community. They would expect approval, appreciation, praise, and support for the time and energy that they dedicate or sacrifice for the Church. But unfortunately, that is an ideal very far from reality. They will soon have to deal with the adverse criticism, envy, and jealousy. Little do they realise that everything goes south pretty soon. The ease and speed with which opposition, skepticism, mockery, or hostility manage to douse the initial enthusiasm, dampen the ideals and render harmless the noblest teaching is surprising.

This is what Jeremiah, the doomsday prophet of the waning kingdom of Judah and the holy city of Jerusalem, had to face when he brought God’s dire warnings to His people. His message was not meant to be an insult but it was taken as such. His words were targeted at moving the insolent people to repentance but they had the opposite effect - their hearts grew more hardened. In trying to save the city and the kingdom, they viewed it as a threat of violence, perhaps even viewing Jeremiah as a spy planted by their enemies to discourage them. So, instead of welcoming this final warning with open eyes, they manufactured their own destruction by throwing the Lord’s prophet into a well and leaving him to die. No wonder there was no prophet left to warn Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem. The price one had to pay for telling the truth was just too costly and served as a deterrent to the rest.

So, what would we prefer? A sugar-coated lie or the stinging painful truth? Even though the sweetness of the former may be preferred to the bitterness of the latter, we must acknowledge that only the truth can save us, only the truth can set us free. Lies can only provide us with false security, and perhaps that is more dangerous than in seeing the truth and acknowledging the risk of what is to come.

Our Lord would not lie to those who wish to follow Him. He doesn’t promise them a bed of roses, a peaceful conflict-free existence but one which would be marked by violence and conflict. Not that Christians would be wielders of the sword except the sword of truth, but that many of them would suffer death and injury at the hands of others who will hold the sword of violence and hostility towards them and the message they bring. If this is the fate of the Master, what will be that of the disciples, the torchbearers of His fire? They too will provoke—ensures the Lord —dissensions, divisions, and hostility and have to reckon with painful lacerations within their own families

Our Lord uses two images to convey this truth - fire and baptism. Violence and destruction can be clearly discerned from the image of fire. But how about the benign image of baptism? A stark contrast is intended here. What do we need for baptism? Water, the opposite of fire. Water is lifesaving. It provides life and nourishment and it can douse the flames of fire. But scriptural reference to water is anything but benign. From the watery chaos before God’s work of creation, to the great flood of Noah’s time that carried out God’s judgment in destroying a wicked generation and a fallen world, water is meant to be a destructive force. But after the flood, the rainbow appears in the sky, a symbol of peace restored between heaven and earth. God swears: "Never again will all life be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again will there be a flood to destroy the earth" (Gen 9:11). From this promise, a conviction is born and spreads in Israel that, to cleanse the world of iniquity, God would no longer use water but fire: "For by fire will the Lord execute judgment … against all mortals" (Is 66:16).

What is this fire all about? It is natural to think of the final judgment and eternal punishment that awaits the wicked. St John the Baptist speaks of the coming Messiah who will baptise us with “the Holy Spirit and fire ... . The chaff he will burn in everlasting fire" (Mt 3:11-12). The two brothers, James and John, wanted to call down fire from heaven against the Samaritans (Lk 9:54), but our Lord refused to do so. The fire of God is not intended to destroy or torture those who made mistakes. It is the instrument with which He wants to destroy evil and purify us from sin.

But the fire announced by the prophets and lit by the Lord also saves, cleanses, and heals: it is the fire of His Word; it is His message of salvation; it is His Spirit, that Spirit who, on the day of Pentecost, descended like tongues of fire on the disciples (Acts 2:3-11) and has begun to spread around the world like a beneficial and renewing blaze. Now we can make sense of the exclamation of the Lord: “I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!” (v. 49). It is the expression of His burning desire to see the weeds of the world soon destroyed. Malachi announced: "The day already comes, flaming as a furnace. On that day all the proud and evildoers will be burned like straw in the fire" (Mal 3:19). Jesus looks forward to the realisation of this prophecy.

Finally, we come to the most troubling statement of our Lord in this entire passage, which comes in the form of a rhetorical question which our Lord Himself provides the answer: "Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division." A baffling statement because in the books of the prophets, it is written that the Messiah would be "the prince of peace"; during His reign, "peace will have no end" (Is 9:5-6); and St Paul writes in his letter to the Ephesians: "He is our peace" (Eph 2:14). Will the proclamation of the Gospel bring into the world, among peoples, in the families, harmony or discord?

It is true, the prophets promised peace for the messianic times but also announced conflicts and separations. When the Lord speaks of misunderstandings between generations (young and old) and among those living in the same house, He does nothing but quotes a passage from the prophet Micah (Mic 7:6). This should not come as a surprise because it has been prophesied. Conflict would be inevitable. There will be those who wished to preserve the status quo, hold onto sin, unjust structures, inhuman situations, every manner of vice, who would not wish to have these challenged or taken from them. Whoever feels threatened by the ‘fire’ will not remain passive. He will oppose the fire by all means. Truth and falsehood, virtue and vice cannot be bedfellows. This is the cause of division, conflict, persecution and violence.

Unity may not always be good. Unity must be sought from the Word of God, from the truth. Peace founded on lies and injustice cannot be favoured. It must at times provoke healthy divisions with much love and without offending anyone. One must not confuse hatred, violence, offensive, and arrogant words—which are incompatible with the Christian choice—with the honest challenge, disagreements that arise from following Christ. Don’t be disheartened when you meet with criticisms and challenges even from those you consider as family or who are members of your community. These are needed, even if painful, especially when we choose to live lives in conformity to Christ in a world that does not know Him and which has rejected Him.

I can see clearly now

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

One of my favourite feel-good go-to songs when I need an emotional uplift is that classic 70s song by Johnny Nash, “I can see clearly now.” For those of you millennials, Gen Z’s and Alphas who do not know what I’m talking about, here are the lyrics: “I can see clearly now, the rain is gone. I can see all obstacles in my way. Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind. It’s gonna’ be a bright (bright), bright (bright), sunshiny day”.

I love the lyrics. Here is a person who has known the wet rainy days of life, when the sun is obscured by the dark clouds of pain, misery and loss. When the “hard rain” is pouring down all around, it’s easy to miss the beauty around you, the opportunities open to you. But everything changes when the rain stops. And there is a certainty that the rain will stop no matter how long we may have to endure it. We have arrived at a moment of clarity. Now that the rain is gone, the fog has dissipated, we can finally see the obstacles preventing us from the goals and dreams we have been pursuing without success.

This is what the faithful men and women of the Bible experienced, and the testimony of their faith is what we heard in the second reading taken from the letter to the Hebrews. It is through the piercing vision of faith that they were able to hope beyond hope, to keep on moving despite all the obstacles and setbacks, to persevere in spite of failure, and to reach their goals and beyond. What set them apart from other men and women were their faith in God. They did not rely on their own strengths or resources or human ingenuity. Rather, their motivation was rooted in a deep trust in a God that they believed would always keep His promises, and He did, even going beyond their expectations. Unsurprisingly the story of Abraham whom we call “our father in faith” has a prominent place. Abraham is proposed as a powerful model of Christian faith because his whole life was lived as a pilgrimage. Even when he was in the Promised Land of Canaan, he recognised that this was not his true homeland, but only a sign of it. It points beyond itself – as all signs do.

What would have made them give up their familiar surroundings, the security of family and kin or even their wealth? The answer can be found in the gospel. These heroes of the Old Testament saw a glimpse of what our Lord clearly promises in the gospel: “Sell your possessions and give alms. Get yourselves purses that do not wear out, treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it. For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” They were able to give up what most people would prize and treasure because there was something better awaiting them. Heaven is our ultimate destination and true home. Life may be filled with dark dreary and wet days, but the Lord promises that what is to come is only a never ending “bright sunshiny day.” The dark clouds in our life will disappear. This is not just wishful thinking or false optimism. Faith informs us that things can and will work out in the end. This is what the Book of the Apocalypse (21:23) assures us: “And the city has no need of sun or moon to shine on it, for the glory of God is its light, and its lamp is the Lamb.”

Having such a vision of the future does not mean that we should just sit on our hands and do nothing. Our Lord tells us that we should be like faithful servants who are constantly at work while remaining vigilant: “See that you are dressed for action and have your lamps lit. Be like men waiting for their master to return from the wedding feast, ready to open the door as soon as he comes and knocks.” This sounds like our Lord is imposing a dress code, perhaps the one thing that is most unpopular in any Catholic parish, as I noticed many of you flinch at the mere mention of it. But the reality is that the dress code imposed by the church merely reflects in a sacramental way the proper inner disposition of a disciple. To be “dressed for action” translates to have our “loins girded,” to be dressed for a journey, a new exodus as we follow Christ on the path of discipleship that leads to the cross. You do not have the luxury of dressing down or be in your most comfortable pyjamas. Christian discipleship is a call to action, not a license to loiter on your sofa and wait for others to do the work.

The second metaphor used by the Lord, which is having our lamps lit, makes a perfect segue into the parable of the servants who await their master’s return from a wedding feast. The parable clarifies the meaning of the metaphor. The lamps refer to the constant state of watchfulness and vigilance. No Christian, no disciple of Christ can be caught off guard. I’ve constantly repeated this ad nauseam: there is no sabbatical or ‘day-offs’ for Christians because the Son of Man is already at the wedding feast. When He returns at the unexpected hour, He will introduce the disciples into His banquet, provided that they are awake and ready. As an incentive and motivation for vigilance, the parable promises a reward for the faithful servants: the Master himself will be at their service. But for the steward who has decided to fall asleep on the job and take additional liberties especially in mistreating others, “his master will come on a day he does not expect and at an hour he does not know. The master will cut him off and send him to the same fate as the unfaithful.” Don’t feign ignorance. You’ve been warned!

So, if we find ourselves in this present life, unsettled, uncomfortable, sorrowful and suffering, then we have the assurance that this hardship is part of our journey into joy. We are all on our journey, an exodus from the slavery to sin, to the freedom of becoming heirs of the Kingdom. Of course, it is indeed the task of the whole Church, and of every Christian – to make that hope believable, to make the pilgrimage to God sustainable, to bring into the lives of the sorrowful the authentic joy of Christ’s victory over sin and death.

Christians are called to be pilgrims of hope, more so as we are reminded this year being a Jubilee Year with the above theme. We must be in a constant state of departing. We are people “on the Way.” Thus, our every action and existence in the here and now becomes more urgent when we do not lose sight of the fact that God may call us to account at any moment. Every moment, every deed, every decision ceases to be trivial when our lives are lived and shaped directly in and toward the light of eternity. If we forget this immediacy, we end up abusing our stewardship of this earth; and injustice and oppression becomes staple activities.

Our gospel tells us that the Son of Man will come when we do not expect – He will break into history not when it seems to be finished, nor indeed when all seems hopeless, but at a time that makes sense to Him. The rain will stop, the clouds will disperse, the obstacles will be removed, and the sun will shine brightly once more with no fear of night. But when He does come, He expects to find us working for that Kingdom which He alone can bring to completion. So, with our lamps lit, let’s get working, let’s be dressed for action, so that we can indeed face the future, and the present, with courage and joy.

Every night, as we conclude with Compline, the night prayer, we sing this beautiful hymn, Abide with Me, written by H. F. Lyte. What Johnny Nash merely suggested in his popular song is made apparent in the lyrics of the final stanza of Lyte’s hymn:

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
shine through the gloom, and point me to the skies;
heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

Without God, all is vanity

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Vanity seems to be a vice that is not only confined to women but also equally plagues men. Coiffed hair, manicured nails, shiny smooth complexions that scream of repeated facials, and a wardrobe that could put Imelda Marcos’ shoe collection to shame. Vanity in this context means pride but vanity could also mean futility or the pointlessness of our actions and decisions or even life itself. The readings for today address the latter.

People often struggle with these questions, ‘What is life all about?’ ‘What is man’s purpose in this life?’ This is what the Book of Ecclesiastes seeks to address. The book is a philosophical essay attributed to Solomon, the proverbial philosopher king. The author wrote this book from the mistakes he made. He shares his own life’s search. The man had wisdom, riches, horses, armies, and women (that’s an understatement, he had lots of women). Yet, in the end Solomon declared everything to be vanity; in other word, pointless, worthless, meaningless, and purposeless. To pursue vanity is to chase after the wind. Starting with the well-known words, "Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity," and repeating them in the last chapter after having taken us through all the vanities of life, the book contains the important lesson he learns from God, in a sort of ‘roundabout’ way. The Book ends by giving us the antidote of vanity: fear of the Lord and the observance of the moral law. The secret to a purposeful life is: Without God, ‘all is vanity’. But with God, nothing is in vain.

In the gospel, we are given two examples of such earthly vanity - the greedy brother and the rich man in a parable told by the Lord. A man in the crowd puts this request to the Lord, “Master, tell my brother to give me a share of our inheritance.” The question sounds oddly familiar. I’ve seen how family battles over inheritance have set kith against kin. The law of primogeniture says (Num 27:1-11 Deut 21:15) that the first born gets a double portion. If you had two brothers, you divided the estate three ways and the oldest got two parts. So, guess which son this is. His request suggests that he’s the youngest son. Greed, envy and a sense of entitlement have blinded him to place money above kinship.

Understanding the context of the disgruntled brother sets the stage for the parable. There is a comparison and contrast going on between the two characters in the parable and two characters outside the parable. The rich man in the parable is compared to the unhappy younger brother in real life. Christ in real life acts as judge and arbiter, a role taken by God in the parable. Why is the Lord telling this parable about the rich man who had no greed to a greedy man? The Lord builds up the rich man as a good guy, a content man, someone you can easily identify with and would aspire to become. This guy is just the opposite of the disgruntled and unhappy brother. What do we learn? Both men thought that life consisted in ‘things’, that the end and purpose of their lives were the acquisition of such ‘things.’ Selfishness and self-satisfaction have blinded them to the bonds of fraternity and life’s ultimate purpose.

Both the disgruntled younger brother and the contented rich man, in their pursuit for wealth without realising that they risk losing everything in a single moment, proves the point that ‘all is vanity.’ There is a major reversal in the parable – the man who thinks himself clever is proven foolish; the rich man ends up being poor to God. Notice the poetic justice. The rich man, like the entitled brother and like so many of us, so obsessed in storing up treasures for ourselves in this place, acquiring knowledge, wealth, possessions and a list of achievements, had lost sight of the fact that our ultimate goal is our own salvation – making ourselves ‘rich in the sight of God.’ The rich man is not condemned for his wealth or even his greed. He is condemned for forgetting that the ultimate ‘end’ or purpose of his life is salvation. He had made no preparations for this. He was too busy investing in this world and that is the ultimate vanity.

This parable speaks loudly to our generation; it speaks of the purpose of life and what defines it? Have you been defining life in your career, your house, your stock portfolio, in terms of your achievements, the knowledge you possess, the popularity you’ve gained, or the assumption that you will live much longer? What is going to happen when you lose one or more of those things? What happens when you get laid off? What happens when the stock market crashes? What happens when you get some disease which takes away your physical ability? What happens when your friends leave you? What happens if another pandemic hits again? If you define life according to these things, you will be devastated. If these things have become the ‘end’ and purpose of your lives, the goals you are ultimately pursuing, the treasures you are seeking for, then the diagnosis is terminal – vanity of vanities, all is vanity!

St Thomas Aquinas teaches that the real end for which man is made is to be reunited with the goodness of God through virtuous behaviour as well as the use of reason in order to know and love God above all. In the words of St Augustine, “that is our final good, which is loved for its own sake, and all other things for the sake of it.” St Ignatius Loyola in setting out the First Principle and Foundation in his Spiritual Exercises writes, “The human person is created to praise, reverence, and serve God Our Lord, and by doing so, to save his or her soul. All other things on the face of the earth are created for human beings in order to help them pursue the end for which they are created. It follows from this that one must use other created things, in so far as they help towards one's end, and free oneself from them, in so far as they are obstacles to one's end.” Thus, the riches of this life are only potentially good. Their goodness is actualised when they serve the greater good – the glory of God and love of neighbour.

The irony we face is that many people would prefer to love the means rather than the end. Man need not just love bad things in order to be condemned to hell. As the old adage teaches us, “The road to hell is lined with good intentions.” Man can pervert his ultimate end by loving seemingly good things, which seem to bring happiness, and mistake these things for the actual, infinite source of happiness - God. Whenever we choose the lesser goods over the greater Good, whenever we convert the means into the end, whenever our vision is obscured to see beyond what lies immediately before us, then we are in trouble. Everything comes down to the choice: do we choose these things as a means to the end, or do we choose them as a substitute for the end?

Today, the readings challenge us to seek the Source of all Goodness, and not just the goods He dispenses. Desire the God of Miracles, not just hunger for the miracles of God. Long for the giver and not just the gifts. Our thoughts should be on the ultimate prize: Heaven. Things of this earth either lead us to that prize, or they may distract us from that and therefore should be placed in their proper place. When we trudge the road of happy destiny, we must remember that the road is just a means to an end and not the destination itself. Anything else is VANITY!

We dare to say

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

The prayer of Abraham in the first reading stands in contrast to that of our Lord’s in the gospel. If Abraham struggled to find the words to intercede on behalf of the depraved inhabitants of Sodom and Gomorrah and even attempts to haggle and bargain with God in making a deal, our Lord provides us with the blue print of prayer in the gospel. There is no longer any need on our part to haggle with God or broker a deal like an astute lawyer, businessman or politician. God, the party on the other end of the transaction (if you see prayer as transactional), is already disclosing to us all His cards and the key to winning His favour and acquiescence.

Although what we’ve just read and heard is a different and shorter version of the Lord’s Prayer which we pray at every Mass and in our devotions, it doesn’t tamper the radical demands which we make of God. In fact, the prayer has the audacity of making the following demands of God: we demand intimacy and familiarity with God’s person and name that borders on the contemptuous and blasphemous, we demand the coming of the kingdom, we demand the terra-forming of our trouble ridden earth so that it may become more like a trouble free heaven, we demand daily sustenance from on high, we demand that our sins be forgiven, and finally we demand shelter from temptation and deliverance from evil. If the school of hard knocks has taught us anything, it would be this: never make unreasonable demands, don’t expect the impossible. Well, for man all these may seem impossible; but for God, everything’s possible! We shouldn’t, therefore, feel uncomfortable or embarrassed to recite this prayer, as it is the Lord Himself who teaches us to do so!

This point is recognised in the introduction spoken by the priest at every Mass before the community recites in unison the Lord’s Prayer, "At the Saviour's command and formed by divine teaching, we dare to say..." The phrase ‘we dare to say’ inherently recognises our insignificance before the Father. We are humbly admitting that it has nothing to do with us, in fact, it admits that it is not even something which we can ever hope to accomplish. The words convey a profound sense of unworthiness; we are in no position to make any claims or demands.

The whole phrase places the Lord’s Prayer in a different light – it is no longer to be seen as a cry of entitlement, a demand made on God to fulfill our petitions and wishes. But rather, it is a prayer of humility by someone truly unworthy to even stand before the august presence of God and yet dare to address Him with the familiar “daddy” and make a series of demands of Him. The catechism tells us that “Our awareness of our status as slaves would make us sink into the ground and our earthly condition would dissolve into dust, if the authority of our Father Himself and the Spirit of his Son had not impelled us to this cry . . . ‘Abba, Father!’ . . . When would a mortal dare call God ‘Father,’ if man’s innermost being were not animated by power from on high?” It is by placing ourselves into the position of a child, calling God our Father, that we open ourselves to the grace by which we approach God with the humble boldness of a little child.

This is how we should approach prayer. It should neither be some arcane magical formula that forces the hand of God nor just a mechanical and superficial repetition of words just to appease Him. Prayer should always be rooted in a father-child relationship where the child trusts that the father will always have his best interest in mind even if he doesn’t always get want he wants. The supplicant who comes before God doesn’t need to approach Him as a lawyer who comes before the judge, hoping to outwit and win an argument with the latter. He already knows that the Supreme Judge will always stand with Him and even stand in His place to take the punishment which he deserves.

There is a Latin maxim that addresses the centrality and priority of prayer in the life, identity and mission of the Church; “Lex Orandi, Lex Credendi, Lex Vivendi”, the law of prayer reflects the law of faith which determines the law of life. Too often it is the other way around. Our lifestyle choices force our beliefs to conform to them and thereafter affect the way we pray. But when it comes to us Christians, everything begins with prayer. Our lives must be conformed to prayer and not the other way. How we worship and pray not only reveals and guards what we believe but guides us in how we live our Christian faith and fulfill our Christian mission in the world. As much as we are sometimes taken up with the spontaneity of the praying style of our Protestant brethren, and many of us too are tempted to venture into some innovative and creative explorations on our own, we must always remember that the best prayer, or as St Thomas Aquinas reminds us, the most Perfect Prayer, is still the prayer not formulated by any human poet or creative genius but by Christ, the Son of God Himself. In a way, God provides us the words to speak to Him.

Thus, our ability to pray in this way can only come to us by the grace of God - it is only because our Saviour has commanded it and because we have been formed by divine teaching, that ‘we dare to say.’ There is no arrogant audacity in the tone of our voice or the content of our prayer. We take no credit for this prayer. All glory goes to God and to His Christ, Jesus our Lord. We are not the natural sons and daughters of the Heavenly Father. We have no right to address Him by this familiar name. All our words seem banal and fall empty in the light of the pre-existent Word. But because of Jesus through baptism, I have become an adopted child. The Father is revealed to us by His Son and we can approach Him only through the Son. Because of Jesus, my prayer now derives an amazing and miraculous efficacy. For that reason, we dare to call God “Our Father.” Through this prayer, the unapproachable God becomes approachable. The unknown God is made known. The strange and unfamiliar God becomes familiar and a friend. The prayer unspoken is already answered!