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Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
Epiphany is like a riddle that needs unravelling. It gets convoluted when we try to number the kings that make up the story. There is Herod the Great who is King of that time. Though he has self-styled himself with that “Great” appendage, he is a mere vassal, a puppet ruler beholden to the Romans ruling. Then we have Jesus whom the magi declare as “the infant king of the Jews,” a title that is ironically prophetic because it would appear once again under order of the Roman authorities on the plaque or titulus which hung over the head of Jesus on the cross. Finally, we have the unspecified number of wise men or magi from the East who have been immortalised as “three Kings from Orient”, who were most likely astrologers who were experts in magical divination rather than of royal lineage. Over the centuries, the Wise Men were given names–Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar - and they were venerated as saints. In fact, if you go to the Cathedral in Cologne, Germany, you will find relics alleged to be the remains of the Wise Men. How did the wise men of our story become the three kings of song and tradition? Despite what modern people would refute, there may be biblical evidence to support the tradition.
Isaiah predicted that at a time of darkness, the glory of the Lord will shine over Jerusalem. The heavenly light will be a beacon to the pagan nations and even to their kings. The prophecy of Isaiah may be one of the reasons why these Magi are often associated with kings. Despite the regular chastisement on the accuracy of this tradition from the pulpit (that there were an indeterminate number of wise men recorded in the gospel instead of the popular three kings), this has little effect on popular culture such as carols and Christmas pageant plays where children compete to be dressed in the splendorous costumes of these royal figures. As for the number of Magi which traditionally is set at three, no mention of their numbers can be found in St Matthew’s story. The three gifts which they bear may be the reason for concluding that there were three wise men or kings who visited the Christ-child. God forbid if they had to share Christmas or birthday presents.
Now that we’ve uncovered a possible reason for identifying the Magi with the three kings, it would be good to see the difference between Isaiah’s prophecy and the actual fulfilment of that prophecy in the visit of the Magi. It has to do with the number of gifts. On the matter of gifts, I often recall the gifts that were brought by the fairies to the christening of Sleeping Beauty. Each gift was a blessing save the penultimate one - the wicked and vengeful fairy who was not invited to the party, conferred on the child the gift of death. The last fairy, though she could not undo this curse entirely, blunted it by transforming the curse of death into a long sleep that could only be awakened with a prince’s kiss. Doesn’t that sound like the work of Christ in blunting death’s blow through the gift of the resurrection?
I digress. Let’s come back to our story of the gifts in the readings. Isaiah only mentions two - gold and incense - but St Matthew mentions three - gold, frankincense (which is a type of incense) and myrrh. The omission of the third gift in Isaiah’s prophecy and its inclusion in St Matthew’s list, is telling. It serves as a clue and shows that a particular aspect was missing from the Jewish expectation of the Messiah based on the Old Testament but was made clearer in the revelation of the New Testament. And the third gift is crucial to our story.
The three gifts have often been described as symbols - gold for a king and incense for a deity. This child is indeed a King but more than a king, He is God Incarnate, thus deserving not just our adulation but also our adoration. But what about the myrrh, which is mentioned in the gospel but omitted in Isaiah’s prophecy –where does that come from and what does it mean?
Myrrh, an aromatic resin, was used in preparing the dead for burial. It was used to anoint corpses to mask the stench and also served to preserve the body from immediate decay. There we have it - the missing link that completes the prophecy of the future fate of this child. Gold reveals that the babe in the manger is actually a king; frankincense tells us that He is God Incarnate; but myrrh reveals to us that this King, who is in fact our God, has come to die.
That someone would redeem God’s people through suffering and death was never part of the Jewish expectation of their Messiah. They failed to make a connexion between their expectation of a triumphant and glorious Messiah, with the Suffering Servant spoken of by Isaiah a few chapters earlier (Isaiah 53). This was the really hard thing for those living in Jesus’ time to comprehend –that the same person who fulfilled all those prophecies about a glorious new king, also fulfilled the prophecies about a mysterious figure in Isaiah’s prophecy who must suffer at the hands of His tormentors and enemies.
It would be good if we just stuck to the first two gifts. Many would have little to no objections to accept this child as their king. It may be far more difficult to acknowledge His divine nature but we can still work that into our formulae. But perhaps the most challenging aspect of this revelation is that this King, our deathless God, should choose to die. All three gifts of the Magi, however, are necessary to complete the true revelation, the true epiphany of who this child is, and what He is destined to do. We must never lose sight of this; that He is at once our King, our God, and Saviour who dies for us, for if any one of these aspects of His identity is omitted, He ceases to be who He truly is, He will not be the Saviour that we would need.
So, here as we had just heard from the Proclamation of the date of Easter and Moveable Feasts, distant rumblings of the Paschal event: the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord. Here in the gifts presented by the Magi, especially in the last gift, we see the inseparable link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.
Tradition gives us the names of the Magi -Caspar, Balthasar, Melchior. But the fact that Matthew gives them no names is telling. They may be kings, but in this story they are merely supporting actors. They follow the true Star, the King of Kings. Only His name is important. The Feast of the Epiphany is not about the Magi–it’s all about Jesus. And just like the Bethlehem star, their very presence and gifts reveal to us who this Child is - He is our King whom we must obey and serve, He is our Lord and God whom we must worship and finally, He is our Saviour who will die for us in expiation of our sins.
Venite Adoremus - Come let us adore Him.
Solemnity of Mary Mother of God
In this short passage, we can glean four themes or names (both current and former) of today’s feast. There is an element of thanksgiving as we reminisce. The passage also points to two earlier names given to today’s feast, the Feast of the Circumcision of the Lord and the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, in Jewish custom, both these titles commemorate the same event. And of course, we are reminded once again that Mary is the mother of Jesus and that Jesus is no ordinary child. He is the Son of God which makes our Lady the Mother of the Son of God, or in short, the Mother of God.
But today I would like to focus on what Mary did when she heard the report of the heavenly host of angels and their message intended for this child from the lips of humble shepherds. Instead of a petulant, sulking and exhausted young mother adversely reacting to all the mishaps on that first Christmas night, a nightmarish disaster, we see the exact opposite - a woman who was composed, meditative and grateful. This is how St Luke describes Mary’s composure and demeanour: “she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
The Greek word for “treasured”, syneterei, means “kept save” or “protected.” It is used twice to speak of Mary’s reaction to the events of the infancy of her child, Jesus. The first instance is here in today’s gospel passage after she had given birth, and the shepherds had left. Then later at the end of Chapter 2, we see Mary reacting to another incident in the life of her child, now a young adolescent. Those of you with children transitioning into teenage years will know how this story resonates with you. She and Joseph had just lost their 12-year-old in the Temple, and upon finding Him, they must have been shocked by His nonchalance attitude. Yet, St Luke again tells us ‘His mother treasured all these things in her heart’.
The word ‘treasure’ has to do with what has most value to us. And sometimes we do not really appreciate the value of something until we’ve lost it. When something is common-place and readily available, we often treat it with contempt because we know that if we were to lose it, it would be so convenient to buy a replacement off the shelf. But when something is rare, we will appreciate its true value when we no longer have it. The months of lockdown during the pandemic has been a painful experience for many, especially Catholics deprived of the Eucharist due to the shuttering of churches. So many Catholics later shared with me how the absence of the Eucharist in their lives had led to an insatiable and painful hunger. Online Masses can only provide so much band-aid to a Catholic deprived of the sacraments, but it cannot fill the gaping hole in his starving soul. But those months of social distancing had also helped them cultivate a deep longing for what they had often taken for granted and have little thought of, once received.
To treasure is not just at the heart of gratitude but the way of prayer. Christian prayer begins in treasuring and pondering these things. And through prayer, every experience, whether painful or sweet, can be transformed into gratitude. That’s where Mary shows us the way, with regard to our own life and experience. Now most people will tell you that it is easy to ‘treasure these things’ when the events and words are all positive. We treasure sweet memories, the highlights of successes and achievements, we immortalise what is favourable to us by filling our display cabinets, walls and photo albums with trophies, memorabilia, and photographs, reminders of the most positive and memorable experiences in our lives.
But Mary shows us that we can’t be selective when we wish to “treasure” things. The befuddlement she must have experienced upon hearing the angel’s announcement, the prospect of being rejected and stoned to death if it was known that she was with child without being married, the arduous journey to Bethlehem while she was heavily pregnant, the inhospitable and unsanitary conditions in which she had to deliver her child and the visit of a rag-tag group of undesirables in the form of shepherds, the inability to fully comprehend the nature and mission of her child and finally, the horror of having to witness her own Son’s execution, would have been some of the things which she had to endure, treasure and ponder upon.
The painful as much as the pleasant, what breaks the heart as much as what fills it with joy is to be contemplated, prayed and be grateful for. This is what we do when we look back at the events of last year. This is what Mary teaches us. That’s the example she shows. Prayer in this contemplative sense is for all of us, because all our lives are a mixture of what pleases and what pains, and all the grey areas in between. All our experiences, be they welcomed or unwelcomed, are to be the subject matter of our prayer. Our Blessed Mother was able to hold the terrible tension and pain of these long moments without wilting or breaking down or sinking into despair. To ponder in this sense is no joke; prayer in this sense is no joy, to be grateful in this sense requires more than human effort. It is all endurance and grace.
Mary’s experiencing of treasuring and pondering helps us to see that God didn’t abandon us even when all is dark and uncertain. If suffering provides us opportunities to love others, trials will give us opportunities to grow in faith and the uncertainties of the future will give us more opportunities to place our hope in the Lord. So, on this day as we celebrate a new calendar year, as we celebrate Mary’s Divine motherhood, as we thank God for the gift of Mary as our mother too, we look ahead into the unknown future, knowing that our God will never desert us no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in. It is also a day to be thankful, to be grateful, for all the opportunities we have been given this past year. Mary teaches us that with Jesus by our side, that’s a blessing we should never ever take for granted.
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Solemnity of the Most Holy Family
Last night, His Grace Archbishop Julian officially launched our year long 125th Jubilee Celebration which will conclude on this Feast in 2026. As many of you know, we have received a special decree from the Apostolic Penitentiary on this occasion granting a plenary indulgence to the Christian faithful and all pilgrims during this Jubilee Year. If you feel that you would just need to play host to pilgrims from other parishes, do not fret. You get to be pilgrims yourselves.
What does it mean to be a pilgrim? Many of you would have undertaken pilgrimages to local shrines and some have even visited many international sites. Despite the vast experiences that is available to us, there remains much confusion as to what it means to be a pilgrim. Under the current format for modern pilgrimages, comfort seems to be an essential criterion - comfortable buses, comfortable and moderately luxurious hotels, sumptuous and delicious food selection that suits our local palette and an itinerary that gives value for our money. In other words, most modern pilgrims would only agree to make the journey provided that they can bring the comfort of their homes with them. No sweat, no pain, no sacrifice.
But this is furthest from what a pilgrim is meant to be. St Peter, in his first epistle, tells us that we Christians are meant to be strangers and aliens in a foreign land. There must be a growing sense of disconnect with what is familiar and comfortable to us in order that we may grow in connexion with God. Pope Benedict XVI beautifully describes the process: “to go in pilgrimage is not simply to visit a place to admire its treasures of nature, art or history. To go on a pilgrimage really means to step out of ourselves in order to encounter God where He has revealed Himself, where His grace has shone with particular splendour and produced rich fruits of conversion and holiness among those who believe.” And this is what we witness in the lives of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
We Catholics often view the Holy Family as the quintessential model for family life. But I would like to propose to you that the Holy Family is also a model for pilgrims. They teach us how to “step out of ourselves in order to encounter God.” The Holy Family were no strangers to pilgrimages. In fact, they would have been seasoned pilgrims. They would have faithfully made three annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem for the great feasts. You may recall the story of how our Lord was lost and found in the Temple on one of those occasions. Though the synoptic gospels (with the exception of St Luke) did not mention this annual ritual in the life of the Holy Family, St John shapes and structures his gospel around these pilgrimage festivals. One last time during Holy Week, our Lord travelled to the holy city for the great Passover. On this last occasion, His mother travels with Him faithfully, experiencing her true labour pains at the foot of the Cross, as a sword of sorrow pierces her heart, fulfilling Simeon’s prophecy at the Presentation (Lk 2:35).
The observance of the annual cycle of making pilgrimages to Jerusalem thrice a year is not the only reason we can speak of the Holy Family as a model for pilgrims. Each of them had experienced personally and together as a family a spiritual form of pilgrimage that exhibited their deep faith and obedience to God’s will. St Joseph showed unwavering obedience to God when he took Mary as his wife and in today’s gospel, led his family to Egypt to escape the clutches of the cruel King Herod. The dislocation of an entire family in ancient times was no small matter, but the Holy Family was reliving the experience of the patriarch Abraham who ventured far from his homeland and the Israelites who were rescued from slavery as they made their way to the Promised Land. They had to be uprooted from the familiar in order to be rooted in what God has planned for them. Despite all the uncertainties and radical changes they had to endure, God remained their firm anchor. Wherever God was and is and will be, they were “home!”
The Holy Family were not only fellow pilgrims but offered hospitality to other pilgrims. Both Joseph and Mary received pilgrims in the form of the Magi who came to worship the newborn king and offer their gifts of devotion, just as this parish dedicated to the Holy Family opens our arms to welcome pilgrims for this Jubilee Year. The experience of the Magi begs this question: what have we brought along with us on this pilgrimage to offer to God?
Mary after receiving the visit of the Angel Gabriel would make her own pilgrimage to visit her cousin Elizabeth where she would sing of God’s wondrous works and care for His people. St Joseph, at the end of his earthly sojourn on this earth, would make his final pilgrimage to heaven at his death. That is why Catholics should pray to him seeking a happy death. After the death of Joseph, Mary would accompany her Son on a journey of discipleship that will eventually take her to the foot of the cross. She too would make her final journey to be reunited with her Son when she was assumed into heaven, body and soul.
Our pilgrimage of life can become another “school of Nazareth” where human virtues blossom in the deepest love and devotion. The Holy Family teaches us to “step out of ourselves,” trust in God’s plan, cherish our friendships, embrace simplicity, persevere through challenges, prioritise our spiritual lives, and cultivate love and respect in our relationships. A pilgrimage is an occasion of daily faithfulness and kindness, where Christ is always at the centre of our lives, with prudence shaping all the decisions of the day, great and small, and patience in bearing with each other. Despite great hardships, poverty and uncertainty, the Holy Family accepted all suffering with a spirit of faith and filial trust in God. Even the most painful events did not disturb the harmony and peace of the Holy Family, because God always came first and everything is done according to His Will. May this be our response as well when we encounter difficulties along life’s journey.
Friends, we are only passing through this difficult and dangerous world. We are strangers, pilgrims, and exiles far away from home. We are on a journey to our true home in heaven. Constantly remembering this will protect us from falling prey to sins of the flesh and the strongholds of sin coming from an alluring world. Let us learn from the Holy Family to be sufficiently disconnected from this world, so that we may be connected with each other in our families, in our communities, in our Church and with God now and forever in Paradise. Jesus, Mary and Joseph, be with us on this journey. Amen.
Christmas Mass during the Day
Some of you may be familiar with that poem known as “A Visit from St Nicholas” more popularly known as “the Night before Christmas,” because it begins with this famous opening line: “Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse ….” The imagery of silence is heightened by another idiomatic expression: “as quiet as a mouse.” In this case, you can’t even hear the squeak or the scurrying of a mouse. Yes, that Christmas night is indeed a Silent Night, a Holy Night!
But the silence of that first Christmas night would have been broken by a new born baby’s crying and that cry did not just pierce the night air but resounded throughout the world and throughout history - past, present and future. As much as we appreciate some quiet alone time after all the partying and carolling last night and the preceding weeks, we must open our ears and hearts to hear the noise of this child, who is no ordinary Child. This morning’s gospel declares Him to be the pre-existing Word. The Word was made flesh, born to break the chaos of silence, to bring order out of nothing. There had to be a birth of the Word at the beginning of time, there had to be a birth at Christmas time, there had to be a birth on Pentecost.
Some would naively argue that the concept of the “Logos,” translated as “the Word” in St John’s lyrical prologue, was something radically new, an appropriation of a Greek philosophical concept. But in the Book of Wisdom in the Old Testament, we find not just a subtle and distant hint but a blaring proclamation of the movement of the Eternal Word:
“For while all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy almighty Word leapt down from Heaven from Thy royal throne, as a fierce conqueror into the midst of the land of destruction” (Wisdom 18:15).
As with most holidays, Christmas generally tends to be a noisy feast filled with strong, joyful carols proclaiming: “For Unto Us A Child Is Born,” “Joy to the World,” “Angels We Have Heard On High,” “Go Tell It On The Mountain,” etc. And this is all true, and very good, and very beautiful. But there is also a silence to be contemplated, a silence that is often missed and dismissed. The great things that God works within His creatures naturally happen in silence, in a divine movement that suppressed all speech. For what could we say? When God speaks, all voices must remain silent. Thus, God’s heavenly secret is kept under the seal of silence unless He Himself opens the lips and makes the words come forth. And this is what happened as the Book of Wisdom said it would happen: “For while all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, Thy almighty Word leapt down from Heaven from Thy royal throne.”
The Word Himself, God, the desire of all nations, “leapt down from heaven” in “quiet silence,” physically took on silence, becoming a new born human, an infant. And in the wonderful silence in the stable, Mary and Joseph looked at Jesus for the first time and contemplated the mystery of His birth in silence. Today, in the midst of our revelry and celebration, we are called to adopt an atmosphere of silence if we wish to grasp the mystery of His Incarnation and hear His gentle whispering.
Although the Incarnation took place in silence and the divine movement often takes place in silence, there is also silence which is imposed by force and violence – a silence which seeks to silence God’s Word. St John tells us that “He (the Word made flesh) came to his own domain and his own people did not accept him.” It should come as no surprise, therefore, that Christmas, a reminder of the birth of the Son of God, must be removed from the public square and its message silenced because the message of Christmas, one of life, threatens the prevalent culture of death.
The human race has always known violence to the innocent, evidenced by the actions of Pharaoh and Herod and in the last century, Hitler and Stalin. Today, we have the new enemies of truth, the globalists governments and media that seek to police speech and silence persons who dare to challenge the official version of the truth, their truth. While adults can make their voices heard in protest, the unborn, the sick and the elderly, are easy targets because of their natural silence, if no one speaks for them and on behalf of them. Today, that struggle manifests itself in new and frightening ways - with the proliferation of abortion mills and passing of legislation which legalises the murder of innocents, the sick and the elderly and which seeks to silence dissenting voices. The violence has become customary, normalised, more imaginative and terrifying.
But our Lord shows us that life is ultimately victorious. Life conquers through its ability to empty itself out. The power of the Christian faith manifests itself most especially in being what the world is not. To arrogance it counters with humility. To cynicism it reacts with innocence. To deception it responds with truth. To glamour it demonstrates with simplicity. To death it responds with life. To a cacophony of noise, it offers silence. Christian faith is simply the opposite of everything that the world would expect and want. It offers “mud,” when the world would want “gold and silver.” This is what Christmas is all about. Christmas bears a dangerous message which threatens our world and yet, it carries with it the only message which can save the world.
But there is great irony in the liturgy of the Church. In celebrating a humble birth, we offer our best - we offer our “gold and silver”. To the silent entry of the Word into our world, we offer our voices in songs of praise and wonderment. We enrich the liturgy with the best that we have to offer because the accoutrements of the rituals manifest the beauty of a world that is not ours and thrusts us forward and upward into an unimaginable beauty, a sign of a world to come.
Today, we come to the manger offering our best only because we have acknowledged the worst in us: the noise we make in competition with God’s sublime Word; the “mud” we have covered ourselves in - our sins, our weaknesses and shortcomings. Instead of plugging our ears, we should gladly open them to welcome the Word. We take courage also in knowing that the Word broke His silence and entered into the noisy madness of our world as He stepped into the “mud” of our fallen existence. Yes, the Eternal Word which leapt down from heaven from His royal throne, has stepped into the filthy “mud” in which we are mired. We were once formed from dust, but now our Lord gives us new life by remoulding the “mud” of our being into a new creation. There is every reason for us to break our silence today, to make a joyful noise and announce: “Indeed, from His fullness we have, all of us, received – yes, grace in return for grace.”
Christmas Mass in the Night
“Wow!” Can you recall the last time you said that, perhaps, involuntarily? "Wow” is often offered with a gasp, a sharp intake of breath, when we can't think of another way to capture the sight of shocking beauty or destruction, of a sudden unbidden insight or an unexpected flash of grace. “Wow” is about having one's mind blown by the mesmerising or the miraculous.
I think most of us would have forgotten our last experience of Christmas that would have earned a “Wow” from us. I guess this would have happened when our walking was still wobbly, where every new discovery, every bright light and colour would have immediately made us wide-eyed with amazement. In other words, when we were still babies or toddlers. But then we grew up, we grew older and everything changed. Our sense of excitement and wander began to dull and languish, and everything became ordinarily commonplace and blasé. Instead of an exclamation of “wow”, we would now choose to sulk in a corner and grumpily complain: “humbug.”
I get a sense that there are more “humbugs” these days than “Wows!” Most people today complain that it doesn’t feel like Christmas for them. I get enough of these complaints during the penitential services in the various parishes where I get to hear hundreds of confessions. What do they mean by that? I guess for most people, there is an expectation to hype up the joy and excitement of Christmas as the day draws nearer, but it’s hard to feel excited or joyful these days because there are too many things on our plate which leads us to feel overwhelmed. And so, they slowly withdraw from social interactions with family and friends, feel exhausted even when they do Christmas shopping, and spend their holidays wallowing in self-pity and depression.
Why does Christmas have this impact on so many people? I guess part of the reason is something which I’ve often highlighted. It’s the pandemic of narcissism that has so afflicted our society. A narcissist is someone obsessively absorbed in himself. “It’s all about ‘Me’.” Narcissists hate Christmas. The Grinch, of Dr Seuss’ children’s poem, is such a creature. His heart is two sizes smaller because he is only capable of “loving” himself, if you could call it love. To say that narcissists suffer from deep anxiety during this season is an understatement. Narcissists love to be the centre of attention, and they will not tolerate any other star who will compete with them for that attention. And who’s the actual star of this season? The Birthday Boy Himself and today all of us here are to celebrate His birthday. And so the narcissist will attempt to deflect our attention by manipulating, trying to earn your sympathy, they will list down a long list of complaints, mostly imaginary, in order to get you to shift your attention to them.
My frequent response to these complaints is this: “What do you mean by saying “it doesn’t feel like Christmas”? Christmas did happen over 2000 years ago. A baby was born in Bethlehem over 2000 years ago. God became man over 2000 years ago. A Saviour has been born to us over 2000 years ago. And nothing you feel or not feel is going to change that!” The truth is a bitter red pill to swallow. Perhaps the person would have been conditioned by years of listening to or singing that popular contemporary Christmas song: “Christmas isn't Christmas till it happens in your heart.” But the truth is that Christmas doesn’t need to happen in your heart before it happens. That’s subjective delusion. Reality does not revolve around your feelings, any more than in your thoughts. Christmas is real because IT IS as the angels declared it to the shepherds: “Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord.”
So, the antidote to ennui, to boredom and restlessness is not found in seeking attention or getting people to show sympathy to your condition. It is shifting our gaze from ourselves to the One whom Isaiah describes in the first reading as “Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.” He alone is our “Saviour” and for this reason we should share in the “great joy” which the angels announce that first Christmas night, “a joy to be shared by the whole people.” I want to take up the first name given to this child in Isaiah’s prophecy whom we know to be Christ; "he will be called Wonderful Counsellor."
When we hear the word "counsellor," we shouldn't think "therapist." In fact, one of the clear by-products of the pandemic of narcissism is the proliferation of therapists, psychologists, psychiatrists and counsellors. In the past, when you were troubled, you would go in search of a priest to make your confession or seek spiritual direction. Today, you look out for a therapist to listen to you tell your “stories” about yourselves (which is why so many confessions end up in being storytelling sessions rather than a grace-filled opportunity to confess one’s sin out of genuine contrition).
But here, the title “Wonderful Counsellor” is something quite different from the professional sounding board. Remember, in the ancient world, a counsellor was someone who devised plans to win military victories. This is what we see in the first reading. Jerusalem and the Kingdom of Judea were facing the threat of imminent invasion by the Assyrians. They were literally a people who were walking in darkness as they had exhausted all options and plans to fend off the enemy. It is here that Isaiah speaks to them of assured divine assistance in the form of a child, an heir to the throne of King David. The best strategy belongs to God. The riddle of Isaiah’s prophecy is finally solved with the birth of this child and who else would be the best person or persons to announce this than the angels, the direct messengers of God.
When we see how God has been playing 4D chess, setting up His plans by moving all the pieces on the board, setting history in motion and then directing it in a most inexplicable way and finally revealing that everything is pointing to this moment - the birth of a child in a small obscure town in the greatest empire on earth, we ought to sit back and marvel. His plans should blow our minds; mesmerise us with the miraculous; show us shocking beauty, unexpected flashes of grace; cause us to gasp, with a sharp intake of breath, and say, "Wow!"
So, if you are feeling down, depressed, or dry in your spiritual life, don’t give up, don’t look for distractions, don’t clutch your pearls, don’t seek attention by crying and complaining to others and finally, don’t despair. In fact, it is good to take a step back and take in the entire view. On this night, we remember how God sent us a Saviour to redeem us. He is “Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty-God, Eternal-Father, Prince-of-Peace.” By choosing to unite His divinity with our humanity, He has truly set us free from the invisible shackles of sin, He has brought light into our darkness, He has given us hope in exchange for our despair, He who is God became man so that we humans can become gods. This is so wonderfully astounding that the whole company of heaven had to show up for the announcement of this child's birth because they were so astonished with the plan God had devised to save the world. What an amazing and wondrous gift that should make all of us, indeed the whole creation inhale in wonder and declare: Wow! Wow! Wow!
Christmas Vigil Mass
The story of the birth of Jesus Christ has been told for centuries. The most familiar accounts can be found in Christmas cantatas and children’s Christmas plays, and they usually involve the story of the annunciation to Mary, the birth of the Christ-Child in Bethlehem or the appearance of the angel to the shepherds, yet the liturgy of the vigil Mass begins the story where Matthew begins his Nativity story, that is with the genealogy of Jesus.
I enjoy reading this long list of weird sounding names and love the sound of each rolling off my tongue. I’m quite sure that I would have mispronounced some and butchered most of them. For many the list seems pointless to our Christmas narrative, and many would choose to just skim over or even skip this portion completely, which the liturgy anticipates by offering us the shorter version which includes the last few lines of the text whilst excluding the rest. But I am convinced that our understanding of this vigil liturgy will be impoverished when the genealogical list is missing. And it’s not because I’m a liturgical masochist.
The inclusion of this list in Matthew’s gospel is not accidental. Matthew appears to be teaching us a powerful message about the Messiah by recording His lineage. Matthew divides the genealogy into three main sections of fourteen names each. The first section lists the patriarchs, the second lists kings, and the third lists names of people mostly unknown to us.
The genealogy begins with Matthew stating, "A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” Does Matthew wish to present his entire gospel of Jesus Christ as a genealogy? One would imagine that this short line would be an adequately succinct summary of our Lord’s human origins. But then Matthew continues with the list by going into the details starting with the great patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. These were men of great faith who left us heroic examples of righteousness. Right from the start, Matthew appears to be giving us a key to understanding his message. Each of these men were promised that through their seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed, a blessing that would be fully realised only through the birth and coming of the Messiah.
In the second section of the genealogy, we have a list which includes Judah’s kings from David to the Babylonian captivity, emphasising the importance of the dynasty of King David. David was seen by the Jews as their greatest king. Through him the nation of Israel was united. Under his command, the temple was built by his son Solomon. Through his seed the nation was ruled by the line of the kings. One would imagine that his successors would meet up to his legacy. But none of them did, save for two. Only two of the fourteen kings mentioned were considered righteous. Most of them failed to guide their people to the Lord. In fact, they led the people astray with their idolatry and burdened them with social injustices. The true King of Kings in David’s royal line would only be fulfilled through Christ, the Anointed One.
Finally, the last section lists names of those that are otherwise mostly unknown in the Bible. Matthew shows us the critical role these unknown persons played in the story. We can easily view ourselves as nothing special when compared to great spiritual and political leaders like the patriarchs and kings in the previous two sections. But many of us would find good company among those mentioned in this third section, namely the unknowns and insignificant.
From these divisions, we can see that God is able to work through both the spiritually and politically powerful, as well as common ordinary folks that appear to be powerless, unknown and insignificant. And that last part is good news for us because it teaches us that each of us can play a critical role in helping to build the kingdom of God, even if we can boast of no outstanding pedigree or significant influence.
What more, rather than an evolution which leads to the production of a perfect man due to centuries of selection of the fittest over the weakest, the genealogy seems to indicate a regression. What seems more scandalous is that after listing out the genealogy of Joseph which can be traced back to Abraham and David, Matthew makes a simple cursory note that the Saviour is to be born of Mary, but He will not be scion of Joseph. The Saviour is ultimately unconnected to this genealogy of both notables and unknowns. Which leads us to this truth - that though the Messiah is prophesied to be “a son of David, a son of Abraham,” He will not be the product of good genes and an impeccable lineage. The Saviour of the world would come to us as God’s decisive intervention in human history. God will be the cause of this messianic evolutionary leap, not genetics. Through this Saviour, God will inject His genes into the DNA of humankind.
There are four names which stand out in this list, they are that of women. Of all the women ancestors of our Lord, why would these four be named. It was certainly not because they were womanly paragons of virtue since one was guilty of incest, another of prostitution, another was an opportunist and finally, the last mentioned seemed to have willingly committed adultery and tacitly participated in the murder of her husband. Once again, we are shown the subversive side of God and the paradox of God bringing something exceedingly good out of something apparently bad. It is a reminder that, not only do bad things sometimes have good effects, but that in some cases the badness of the cause is essential to the realisation of the good effect. If not for Adam’s sin, our Saviour would not have come. If not for Christ’s death, we will not be saved. If not for these women to continue the line of Abraham and David, our Lord would not possess the messianic title of being called “Son of David” or “Emmanuel.”
After these four female ancestors of questionable reputation, the last woman mentioned stands out. She is Mary. She does not have any illustrious genealogy to boast of. Her origins are unknown. But we do know her as a Virgin who was hailed by the angel as being “full of grace.” Unlike the other women, we finally have a woman untouched by sin, which the Church teaches is not through her own merits but through the merits of her Son. Her place in the story highlights the truth that the Messiah’s true origin is God. Jesus, our Saviour, comes from God and is indeed God because God alone can save us from our sins.
As we read the genealogy of Jesus Christ and consider the people mentioned in His lineage, we learn how God chooses all sorts and weaves them into His story of salvation. Whether a righteous prophet, an imperfect leader, an unknown helper, or someone with a questionable background or reputation, all are known to the Lord. No matter our status, background, gender or station in life, we too can have our name added to the long, beautiful list of those who play a critical role in God’s plan of salvation. During this Christmas and every Christmas, let us not forget that our Lord Jesus chose to be born into our human story, our history, to be “a man like us in all things but sin" (Eucharistic Prayer IV, cf Hebrews 4:15). O Come O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel!
Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A
What unites the first reading and the gospel is the prophecy first delivered to King Ahaz in the waning days of his rule and which the evangelist quotes in the gospel to show how the message delivered to St Joseph about the virginal conception of his betrothed, the Virgin Mary, is a fulfilment of that very same prophecy.
If you suffer from being overly pedantic like me, and if you have read both passages instead of just listening to it, you would realise that the spelling of the Hebrew title translated into English as “God with us,” is spelt differently in both the first reading taken from the Old Testament and the gospel passage which quotes the same. Both Immanuel and Emmanuel are correct spellings, as they are different transliterations of the same Hebrew word meaning "God with us". Immanuel is the direct transliteration from Hebrew, while Emmanuel is the transliteration of the Greek version of the name. The difference in spelling arises because the New Testament was originally written in Greek, which uses the spelling with an "E".
Now that we’ve covered that, let’s go to the substance of what the readings speak about. The context of the first reading is that Ahaz is feeling conflicted when contemplating his political future and the fate of his nation. Should he trust in a human solution to save his country from destruction threatened by a superpower by entering into a treaty with another superpower or should he just place his trust in God? Of course, the prophet Isaiah tells him to trust God and should he have any doubts, Ahaz could simply ask for a sign from God, which he refused initially out of false humility. But when Ahaz refused the sign, Isaiah told him that God insisted on giving him a sign that would be: “the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’ Some have postulated that this prophecy is referring to Ahaz’s own son, Hezekiah, who proved to be a fairly good albeit imperfect king. But the deliberate ambivalence of the prophecy soon evolved into an expectation of a distant messianic royal heir that would prove to be Israel’s saviour.
While doubtless there was some contemporary fulfilment for Ahaz, the destruction of Jerusalem would be temporarily postponed, the actual fulfilment or “full-filment” would only come in Christ. Pope Benedict XVI calls this prophecy a “word in waiting.” The evangelist, in fact, appeals to this text in Isaiah to show that the birth of our Lord is what Israel had been waiting for through the centuries. In fact, this promise frames the entire gospel of St Matthew.
Some have asked why Jesus wasn’t named Emmanuel as clear proof of the fulfilment of the Isaian prophecy. An obvious reply is that Emmanuel is a title rather than a personal name just like “Christ,” which means the Anointed One or the Messiah. But, Emmanuel is not so much a name or a time as it is a message, “God is with us!” At the beginning of the gospel, Isaiah’s prophecy is invoked here in the infancy narratives and the same gospel closest with the great commission where our Lord promises: “Lo, I am with you always, to the close of the age.” What a joy, what a consolation to know that God is with us now and for all eternity, and that Christ has never left us.
Many a Christmas sermon will dwell on the meaning of Emmanuel, God-with-us, but if we are honest, most of us have known times when God, if there is a god, seems distant, unapproachable, not interested in us or our doings. If we are honest to admit it, many of us would have asked, ‘Where was God during this crisis or that?’ ‘Where was God when I lost my job and am now threatened with losing my home?’ ‘Where was God when my mom or dad died, or when I found out I had a terminal illness?’ St Joseph in today’s passage would have also wondered how he could end up marrying a woman, his betrothed, who was with child not sired by him. Had God abandoned him? These are legitimate questions, and the standard answer, that God was with us as we suffered, rarely convinces. We need a God not afar off but close at hand, and for many, God is not close at hand.
Perhaps instead of trying to answer the question ‘where was God?’ we have to explore the question ‘where is God?’ At first sight, that may seem like a mere play of tenses; but if we stop and think about it, it is anything but semantics. To ask where was God is to ask a question of history, to go back in time; to ask where *is* God is to pray and enter into a relationship with Him here and now. The first question is naturally narcissistic, seems to focus solely on me as the centre of the universe - me me me me! The second question shifts the focus away from ourselves to God. God has not withdrawn Himself from us or hidden Himself in some inexplicable way. He is tangibly though mysteriously present to all who trust and have faith in Him. And that surely, is what the Incarnation has brought about in a most wonderful way.
During his moment of doubt when he was contemplating divorcing his betrothed, the Angel visited Joseph and gave him this assurance. To paraphrase the angelic message: “Do not be afraid! God is with you! Not just literally but in reality! God is with you in that child. So, don’t just think of yourself and the shame which this may befall you but think of the glory of Israel and the salvation of the world which this child will bring. It is indeed a privilege for you to be part of this!”
Likewise, we cannot fear God or think Him unapproachable when we know that in Christ, He has taken human flesh and blood and been born, just as we are, just as dependent as we are. He cannot undo that — He has bound Himself to us for ever and is with us to the end of time. Whatever happens, however low we fall, however much distress or failure we experience, we know Him to be true to His name - Emmanuel. He is with us. God is with us …. Always! And this week, we will celebrate His birth in time. O Come O Come Emmanuel!
