Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
When I had just arrived in a former parish, I faced my first hurdle - communicating with the sacristan who was a foreign national. He had a strange way of speaking by conflating time - past, present and future - in a single continuous tense, a perpetual “now.” One day, he called me on my off day and told me that a visiting priest was “coming already.” I then asked him for specifics. He kept repeating “coming already.” To my chagrin, I wasn’t able to decipher his message. I eventually called my assistant to speak to him and hopefully he would have some better luck. He fared better and told me that the visiting priest “had already come” in the morning and left since he didn’t get a chance to meet me. This memory has always stayed with me when I recall how the end time prophecies of our Lord appear to have the same strange way of being perceived - past, present and future - all flow into a single continuous “now.”
Though the future destruction of the Temple and the city of Jerusalem would have been prophesied by our Lord during His lifetime, the gospel of St Luke was most likely written after this cataclysmic event. Both the destruction of the Temple and persecution of Christians were regarded as the fulfilment of Old Testament prophecies about “the Day of the Lord,” which we heard in the first reading. But when these events happened, they were also confirmation of the prophecy of the Lord. For those living through these times, these events were confirmation that they were living in the end times, the last days. The level of panic and fear would have been off the scale, with many feeling hapless and lost in despair. This is the reason why the eschatological message of scriptures is meant to provide courage and consolation and not meant to instil more fear or add to the anxiety of the listener.
If you were to take a closer look, the prophecy of our Lord can be divided into three parts. Though these three parts appear seamless and all seem to point to a future event, the first-generation reader of the gospel would have known that these different parts refer to different stages of the spectrum of time and history - past, present and future. With regards to the destruction of the city, this is a past event that has already happened which confirms the veracity of the words of our Lord. But when the Lord begins to list down a sample list of cataclysmic events which are both man-made and the result of natural disasters, He seems to be moving to an event or a series of events in the unknown future. Finally, this passage speaks to the reader in his current condition - he is a subject of persecution, alienation and humiliation, which the early Christian community were experiencing in the first Christian century and throughout the history of the Church.
Though the timeline seems to be blurred and any reader could easily apply the prophecy to his current situation and time (especially with regards to persecution and disasters, both natural and man-made), what the passage wishes to emphasise here is that we should not be distracted by these “signs.” This seems to be the issue with the disciples of the Lord as well as Christians of every generation - we get so caught up with the pyrotechnics, with the “signs,” and fail to see that all these things seek to highlight the only thing which matters - or to be more accurate, the only person that matters, Our Lord Jesus Christ. All “signs” point to Him, who should be our sole focus.
The “end times” may sound like an epoch in time or an event in history but it is really about a person - our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of History, the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end, and all times and seasons belong to Him. So, are we in the end times? The answer is simple and complex. Yes. We are living in the “end times” but it began over two thousand years ago with the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. We are in the end times and this period of salvation history will continue until Christ’s triumphant return in glory at His Second Coming. Every generation has signs of suffering, apostasy, and renewal. But these are not signs that the end is near but a call to repentance and to grow in holiness and fidelity to our Lord. In the face of disaster, hardship and persecution, we Christians need only to remember our Lord’s words at the end of today’s passage: “Your endurance will win you your lives.”
So, there is no need for us to speculate when our Lord will return, because no one knows the day or the hour in which Christ will return in glory. But we can be certain that He will return in glory to judge the living and the dead and that His return will herald the end and final complete defeat of all His enemies - suffering, sin, death, and the power of evil. We cannot live in denial of evil. Evil is real but so is the power of good, the power of God. In fact, the good is more real because evil is always destructive, always negative, always corrupting. Whereas the good creates, builds, grows, nurtures, comforts, enhances, heals. The good news of Jesus Christ is that evil does not triumph, cannot triumph, and so we do not have to fear. We can look in the face of evil—as so many Christian martyrs have done and do even today—and persevere in loving the good. This is a promise of hope, not a threat of destruction.
Christ will return in glory at the end of time to judge the living and the dead. There will be a resurrection of the body, and God’s justice and mercy will be fully revealed. This is the true meaning of the end of the world—not fear of cosmic disaster but confident hope in the ultimate triumph of our Lord Jesus Christ. Rather than becoming preoccupied with signs and speculations, Catholics are called to live in a state of grace, anchored in the sacraments, guided by Sacred Scripture, and sustained by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. We do not need to fear the end. We belong to a Church that already knows how the story ends: Christ is victorious as He was “in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.”
Saturday, November 8, 2025
Tuesday, November 4, 2025
The Church is your Mother
Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran
Why would the Church choose to celebrate the day a church (a major basilica no less) is dedicated to the worship of God and designate it as a feast? In fact, if this feast falls on a Sunday, it will take the place of the Sunday liturgy.
This is no ordinary building. This is the cathedral of the diocese of Rome, the first Christian church dedicated after the end of the persecution of Christians, the only church described as “the mother and head of all the churches of the City of Rome) and of the world.” In a way, this Church does not only represent the Diocese of Rome but the entire universal Catholic Church. It is not only the mother of all churches but a reminder that the Catholic Church is our mother as St Cyprian beautifully puts it, “you cannot have God as your father if you do not have the Church as your mother.”
The word “basilica” in its application to Christian churches originated here. When Constantine ended the persecution of Christians with the Edict of Milan, Christians were permitted to worship publicly for the first time. Various options from the pagan world were given as possible models for the first church. The problem, however, was that most pagan temples were small, not intended for large public gatherings and communal worship. People generally did not participate in worship which was considered to be the exclusive domain of the priestly class.
So you can imagine Constantine’s surprise when he asked Pope Silvester, “how big of a temple do you want” and Pope Silvester replied, “How big can you build it?” The idea that people would actually participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was the first place built for public Christian worship in the City of Rome and as such it set the standard for all others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that the Mass is never something we watch like spectators but always something in which we participate.
This is why our Lord drove the money changers out of the temple. The money changers were thrown out not because they had reduced worship to a financial enterprise, but they represented a system where the common people were excluded from the main worship and they acted as a go-between for the priestly caste and the people. Our Lord came to establish a new Temple out of His own body, a temple in which the presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of His body raised up to be a priestly nation and royal priesthood.
My favourite part of the basilica is the Baptistry, which is reputed to be the oldest part of the basilica which has seen centuries of renovations and reconstruction. It is a squat octagonal building with its interior walls beautifully decorated with murals depicting the story of Constantine coming to the faith. The eight sides represent the Eighth Day, Sunday, the Day of our Lord’s resurrection, and thus an apt symbol of the rebirth Christians experience in the waters of baptism. It is said that this building was not built from raw fresh materials but parts of other imperial monuments. They could have used new construction material but instead they used existing material from much older buildings.
It is done so for a purpose, to teach a truth of faith. As grace builds upon nature, the sacred is taken from the profane and profoundly incorporated into the body of Christ. The ancient monuments of Old pagan Rome which tried to destroy Christianity are now subverted for the glory of God and for His Church. Sin is subverted for the greater good. That is the power of baptism – It changes all people and makes them new in Christ. The Church always has been a community of sinners seeking God’s grace. The Baptistery of St. John Lateran reminds us that no sin is greater than God’s mercy, and that the waters of Baptism and the grace of Reconciliation continue to take what is profane and make it sacred.
St. John Lateran teaches us that the Church is where we trust and celebrate God’s all-powerful, unbounded, transforming mercy. Christianity is no longer only a private, personal experience of faith or a mere spectator of human history and politics. It is now a public witness that courageously forms society and transforms cultures and no longer hides in fear of persecution or rejection and the Church has a necessary voice in world affairs. Today, we do not just celebrate the dedication of a building – we celebrate the mission of the Church which continues to teach, sanctify and provide guidance in the name of her Lord and Saviour.
Why would the Church choose to celebrate the day a church (a major basilica no less) is dedicated to the worship of God and designate it as a feast? In fact, if this feast falls on a Sunday, it will take the place of the Sunday liturgy.
This is no ordinary building. This is the cathedral of the diocese of Rome, the first Christian church dedicated after the end of the persecution of Christians, the only church described as “the mother and head of all the churches of the City of Rome) and of the world.” In a way, this Church does not only represent the Diocese of Rome but the entire universal Catholic Church. It is not only the mother of all churches but a reminder that the Catholic Church is our mother as St Cyprian beautifully puts it, “you cannot have God as your father if you do not have the Church as your mother.”
The word “basilica” in its application to Christian churches originated here. When Constantine ended the persecution of Christians with the Edict of Milan, Christians were permitted to worship publicly for the first time. Various options from the pagan world were given as possible models for the first church. The problem, however, was that most pagan temples were small, not intended for large public gatherings and communal worship. People generally did not participate in worship which was considered to be the exclusive domain of the priestly class.
So you can imagine Constantine’s surprise when he asked Pope Silvester, “how big of a temple do you want” and Pope Silvester replied, “How big can you build it?” The idea that people would actually participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was the first place built for public Christian worship in the City of Rome and as such it set the standard for all others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that the Mass is never something we watch like spectators but always something in which we participate.
This is why our Lord drove the money changers out of the temple. The money changers were thrown out not because they had reduced worship to a financial enterprise, but they represented a system where the common people were excluded from the main worship and they acted as a go-between for the priestly caste and the people. Our Lord came to establish a new Temple out of His own body, a temple in which the presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of His body raised up to be a priestly nation and royal priesthood.
My favourite part of the basilica is the Baptistry, which is reputed to be the oldest part of the basilica which has seen centuries of renovations and reconstruction. It is a squat octagonal building with its interior walls beautifully decorated with murals depicting the story of Constantine coming to the faith. The eight sides represent the Eighth Day, Sunday, the Day of our Lord’s resurrection, and thus an apt symbol of the rebirth Christians experience in the waters of baptism. It is said that this building was not built from raw fresh materials but parts of other imperial monuments. They could have used new construction material but instead they used existing material from much older buildings.
It is done so for a purpose, to teach a truth of faith. As grace builds upon nature, the sacred is taken from the profane and profoundly incorporated into the body of Christ. The ancient monuments of Old pagan Rome which tried to destroy Christianity are now subverted for the glory of God and for His Church. Sin is subverted for the greater good. That is the power of baptism – It changes all people and makes them new in Christ. The Church always has been a community of sinners seeking God’s grace. The Baptistery of St. John Lateran reminds us that no sin is greater than God’s mercy, and that the waters of Baptism and the grace of Reconciliation continue to take what is profane and make it sacred.
St. John Lateran teaches us that the Church is where we trust and celebrate God’s all-powerful, unbounded, transforming mercy. Christianity is no longer only a private, personal experience of faith or a mere spectator of human history and politics. It is now a public witness that courageously forms society and transforms cultures and no longer hides in fear of persecution or rejection and the Church has a necessary voice in world affairs. Today, we do not just celebrate the dedication of a building – we celebrate the mission of the Church which continues to teach, sanctify and provide guidance in the name of her Lord and Saviour.
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Tuesday, October 28, 2025
Our Duty to Pray for the Dead
Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed
The first reading is taken from a book of the Old Testament that is missing from the Protestant Bible. Its omission is understandable as it shows how the people of the Old Testament prayed for the deceased, a practice which is considered futile and superstitious and thus rejected by the Protestants.
The two books of Maccabees speak of a time when the Jewish homeland was ruled by the Greeks who sought every means to destroy both the local culture and suppress the people’s religion. The desecration of the holy Temple of God was the last straw when the Greeks sought to turn it into a temple rededicated to their chief pagan deity, Zeus. The Jewish nationalists rose in revolt. It was not merely a nationalistic insurrection but first and foremost, a religious war. The Jewish rebels would invoke God’s assistance to defend them and to destroy their enemies. But here in chapter 12 of the second book of Maccabees, we see the Jews offering up a different form of prayer - this time not for blood of their enemies but for reconciliation of the dead.
Although Judas won this battle, many of his soldiers were killed. When their companions went to bury them, they found that each dead soldier was wearing pagan amulets under his tunic. In the minds of the Jews, it was clear why their compatriots died despite God’s protection. But instead of abandoning their souls to perdition, Judas took a collection up among his soldiers and sent an offering to Jerusalem so that sacrifices and prayers might be offered up for his men who had sinned and fallen. All is not lost even in death and when one dies a sinner. It is here that we read an important verse for us on this day, “For if (Judas) had not expected the fallen to rise again it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead, whereas if he had in view the splendid recompense reserved for those who make a pious end, the thought was holy and devout. This was why he had this atonement sacrifice offered for the dead, so that they might be released from their sin.”
Within this most positive assessment of Judas’ deed of offering prayers and sacrifices for the dead, we have the powerful justification for two important aspects of our Catholic faith - the dogma concerning purgatory and the efficacy of praying for the dead - both, unfortunately, seem to have grown out of fashion due to a subtle transformation of the Requiem or funeral Mass into a mere memorial service where the deceased are eulogised.
In our efforts to eulogise the dead, we have forgotten that funerals are meant for sinners and not perfected saints. We celebrate feast days for saints. But the truth is that we are all imperfect and most of us die imperfect, in spite of our efforts to be better. This is the reason for believing in Purgatory. Purgatory is not a midway point between heaven and hell. Purgatory is intended for those destined for heaven. Purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God which had begun in their lives would be completed. It is the “processing centre” where exiles wandering lost in the valley of sin and death are prepared for their final homecoming to their eternal home in heaven.
Most people believe that heaven is guaranteed, it is a done deal once they’re baptised and if they live relatively good lives. For this reason, many choose to not go for confession, seeing no need for it. But we need healing from the results of our sins, even if these sins are forgiven in confession. The results of sin do not just go away because the sin is forgiven. For example, a man might leave his wife and family and move in with another woman. His wife might be near a nervous breakdown. His children in turmoil. If ten years later, he seeks forgiveness for his actions, he can be forgiven not just by God but also by his wife. But the results of his sins remain. The children grew up devastated. Their father was not there when they needed him. His wife is still suffering the traumatic results of the end of their marriage. The sin is forgiven, but the effects of the sin remains. Reparation is required, and we are not talking about the monetary kind.
During our lives we approach the Lord seeking the healing for the results of our sins. That is why the Church promotes the gaining of indulgences which supplements the necessary practice of frequent confession. Indulgences deal with the effects of sin, the temporal punishment due to us, while confession absolves us of the guilt and the eternal punishment due to sin. When our lives on earth have ended, we depend on the prayers of those still living here to continue to ask God to heal the results of sin in our lives. And so, we do a disservice to our dead by canonising them prematurely, by deciding that no matter what their lives may have been like, they must be in heaven right now. It is a disservice because the faithful departed need our prayers. They need us to offer the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for them–to have Masses said for them. They need us to pray the rosary asking Mary to speak to her Son for our loved ones. They need us to visit their graves, which are visible reminders of our duty to pray for them and that we continue to remain united to them in the Communion of Saints.
On this day when we commemorate all the faithful departed whom we had lost over the years, we do so not with broken hearts nor in hopeless despair. We live as a people of hope because we believe that humanity’s exile to this sin-scarred planet of crime, cruelty, injustice, and death will one day come to an end. Just as how our Lord commanded the dead son of the widow to rise up, it is our hope and prayer, that our Lord will command all the faithful departed who have died in His peace, to rise and have a share in His glory won for us on the cross.
The Books of Maccabees tell us that it is a good thing to pray for the dead. But it is more than just a recommended “good thing,” it is our duty! Our duty is to continue to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, and we do this, because this is what the Holy Spirit has taught us to do. It is a gift of God, to allow us to share in His work in bringing His people to perfection. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.
And so we pray this ancient prayer which our ancestors prayed, and we hope that our descendants would continue to do so for us:
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
The first reading is taken from a book of the Old Testament that is missing from the Protestant Bible. Its omission is understandable as it shows how the people of the Old Testament prayed for the deceased, a practice which is considered futile and superstitious and thus rejected by the Protestants.
The two books of Maccabees speak of a time when the Jewish homeland was ruled by the Greeks who sought every means to destroy both the local culture and suppress the people’s religion. The desecration of the holy Temple of God was the last straw when the Greeks sought to turn it into a temple rededicated to their chief pagan deity, Zeus. The Jewish nationalists rose in revolt. It was not merely a nationalistic insurrection but first and foremost, a religious war. The Jewish rebels would invoke God’s assistance to defend them and to destroy their enemies. But here in chapter 12 of the second book of Maccabees, we see the Jews offering up a different form of prayer - this time not for blood of their enemies but for reconciliation of the dead.
Although Judas won this battle, many of his soldiers were killed. When their companions went to bury them, they found that each dead soldier was wearing pagan amulets under his tunic. In the minds of the Jews, it was clear why their compatriots died despite God’s protection. But instead of abandoning their souls to perdition, Judas took a collection up among his soldiers and sent an offering to Jerusalem so that sacrifices and prayers might be offered up for his men who had sinned and fallen. All is not lost even in death and when one dies a sinner. It is here that we read an important verse for us on this day, “For if (Judas) had not expected the fallen to rise again it would have been superfluous and foolish to pray for the dead, whereas if he had in view the splendid recompense reserved for those who make a pious end, the thought was holy and devout. This was why he had this atonement sacrifice offered for the dead, so that they might be released from their sin.”
Within this most positive assessment of Judas’ deed of offering prayers and sacrifices for the dead, we have the powerful justification for two important aspects of our Catholic faith - the dogma concerning purgatory and the efficacy of praying for the dead - both, unfortunately, seem to have grown out of fashion due to a subtle transformation of the Requiem or funeral Mass into a mere memorial service where the deceased are eulogised.
In our efforts to eulogise the dead, we have forgotten that funerals are meant for sinners and not perfected saints. We celebrate feast days for saints. But the truth is that we are all imperfect and most of us die imperfect, in spite of our efforts to be better. This is the reason for believing in Purgatory. Purgatory is not a midway point between heaven and hell. Purgatory is intended for those destined for heaven. Purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God which had begun in their lives would be completed. It is the “processing centre” where exiles wandering lost in the valley of sin and death are prepared for their final homecoming to their eternal home in heaven.
Most people believe that heaven is guaranteed, it is a done deal once they’re baptised and if they live relatively good lives. For this reason, many choose to not go for confession, seeing no need for it. But we need healing from the results of our sins, even if these sins are forgiven in confession. The results of sin do not just go away because the sin is forgiven. For example, a man might leave his wife and family and move in with another woman. His wife might be near a nervous breakdown. His children in turmoil. If ten years later, he seeks forgiveness for his actions, he can be forgiven not just by God but also by his wife. But the results of his sins remain. The children grew up devastated. Their father was not there when they needed him. His wife is still suffering the traumatic results of the end of their marriage. The sin is forgiven, but the effects of the sin remains. Reparation is required, and we are not talking about the monetary kind.
During our lives we approach the Lord seeking the healing for the results of our sins. That is why the Church promotes the gaining of indulgences which supplements the necessary practice of frequent confession. Indulgences deal with the effects of sin, the temporal punishment due to us, while confession absolves us of the guilt and the eternal punishment due to sin. When our lives on earth have ended, we depend on the prayers of those still living here to continue to ask God to heal the results of sin in our lives. And so, we do a disservice to our dead by canonising them prematurely, by deciding that no matter what their lives may have been like, they must be in heaven right now. It is a disservice because the faithful departed need our prayers. They need us to offer the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross for them–to have Masses said for them. They need us to pray the rosary asking Mary to speak to her Son for our loved ones. They need us to visit their graves, which are visible reminders of our duty to pray for them and that we continue to remain united to them in the Communion of Saints.
On this day when we commemorate all the faithful departed whom we had lost over the years, we do so not with broken hearts nor in hopeless despair. We live as a people of hope because we believe that humanity’s exile to this sin-scarred planet of crime, cruelty, injustice, and death will one day come to an end. Just as how our Lord commanded the dead son of the widow to rise up, it is our hope and prayer, that our Lord will command all the faithful departed who have died in His peace, to rise and have a share in His glory won for us on the cross.
The Books of Maccabees tell us that it is a good thing to pray for the dead. But it is more than just a recommended “good thing,” it is our duty! Our duty is to continue to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, and we do this, because this is what the Holy Spirit has taught us to do. It is a gift of God, to allow us to share in His work in bringing His people to perfection. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.
And so we pray this ancient prayer which our ancestors prayed, and we hope that our descendants would continue to do so for us:
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.
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Sunday, October 26, 2025
Turning One's Gaze toward God
Solemnity of All Saints
One of my favourite songs is often described as the epitome of British dark humour. Some of you may know it: “Always look on the bright side of life.” Seems like a good and encouraging piece of advice until you realised that it was sung by a person or persons dying by crucifixion (not Jesus but the movie’s eponymous protagonist, Brian, Jesus’ neighbour) and it comes in the closing scene of the Monty Python movie, with other crucifixion victims joining in the chorus as the credits roll. To declare that one should always look on the bright side of life even as one suffers the excruciatingly slow and painful execution of crucifixion is the height of irony. Is this what our Lord is suggesting in His teaching on the beatitudes? Should we be “happy” or pretend to be “happy” even when everything is going south? Is this the reason why we Christians declare that the Friday where our Lord was betrayed, tortured, humiliated and died, a “Good” Friday instead of a “bad” one?
Perhaps, there is always at least two ways of looking at a bad situation. An old ditty best sums this up: “Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw the mud, the other saw stars." This little ditty highlights that individuals in the same situation can have vastly different perspectives; one sees only the negative, while the other finds hope or the positive, demonstrating how perspective shapes one's experience and can lead to different choices.
Likewise, there are also two different ways of viewing the scenarios described by the Beatitudes. One may see them as misfortunes and even curses from God - poverty, weakness, hunger, grief, loss, persecution - who wouldn’t? But then our Lord invites us to view them as blessings and in fact a source of Christian joy. Which view seems more realistic? If we didn’t know Jesus any better, we would have chosen the former. When faced with difficulties, trials and tribulations, our first reaction would be a negative one, rather than a positive one - we would see mud, rather than stars. But the Beatitudes seek to challenge this world view.
So, how do we make the shift from seeing only mud to seeing stars, even in the most difficult and painful situations of life? The recently canonised Saint Carlo Acutis gives us the answer: “Sadness is turning one’s gaze inward; happiness is turning one’s gaze toward God. Conversion is nothing other than shifting one’s gaze from below to above. A simple movement of the eyes is enough.” The wise words of this young man shows us that the joy described by our Lord in the Beatitudes are not naive or false optimism; instead, they represent a deeper, authentic joy found not in worldly success but in humility, mercy, and aligning one's life with God's will. The Beatitudes overturn worldly standards of happiness, which often equate it with wealth, power, and success. True joy comes from recognising one's spiritual need and emptying the self to make room for God, rather than filling oneself with material possessions or self-sufficiency.
Our modern society is suffering from a pandemic of narcissism, of self-absorption, where we believe that everything revolves around us as the centre of the universe. So, every difficulty or challenge, every hurdle or obstacle we encounter in life, becomes another opportunity to moan our misfortune and decry our victimhood. The situations in the Beatitudes will definitely look like “mud”, like curses, if we are merely focusing on ourselves. Saint Acutis was correct to diagnose the cause of “sadness,” it’s “turning one’s gaze inward.”
Our Lord provides the antidote to this pandemic of narcissism through His Beatitudes. A saint is one who turns his gaze to God or as Carlo Acutis puts it, the secret to happiness is “shifting one’s gaze from below to above.” The saint is not an individual who is insulated from what the world sees as unhappy situations but is one who can shift his or her gaze from his present turmoil and sufferings to the joy of eternal life which God has promised to those who remain faithful and on course in following His Son.
In the first reading, we are given a vision of the host of saints arrayed in heaven. They are not those spared of persecution but rather those who have gone through it. In the gospel, our Lord is speaking to people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation and death are daily realities. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be blessed. They will be assured of true happiness. If we love God and the things of God as we ought, even in this life, we will consider the suffering we experience in this life as insignificant in comparison to the joys for which we hope. And unless we learn to love God above all things, and all things for God’s sake, we shall never find true happiness. This is the message of the Beatitudes.
So, our Lord invites us who are called to be saints to always reach for the stars instead of grovelling in the mud of despair. To always look on the brighter side of life is not to ignore the issues and difficulties we have to face or attempt to pull the wool over our eyes and pretend these problems do not exist. But we need to remember that concentrating on the problem can make it appear larger and more consuming. Focusing on problems can lead to depression, despair and exhaustion. If problems are the sole focus, God can diminish in your vision, leading to a forgetfulness of His promises and power. Instead, we are called like all the saints to always shift our gaze from below to above, to focus on the Lord even if we are in the midst of pain and distress because as the Psalmist assures us, we “shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves him. Such are the men who seek him, seek the face of the God of Jacob.”
At the end of his homily on the occasion of the canonisation of two amazing men, young saints of our time, Pope Leo XIV said that the lives of “Saints Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis are an invitation to all of us, especially young people, not to waste our lives, but to direct them upward and make them a masterpiece. They encourage us with their words: "Not I, but God," said Carlo. And Pier Giorgio: "If you have God at the centre of all your actions, then you will reach the end." This is the simple but sure formula of their holiness. And it is also the testimony we are called to imitate to enjoy life to the fullest and go to meet the Lord at the feast in heaven.”
One of my favourite songs is often described as the epitome of British dark humour. Some of you may know it: “Always look on the bright side of life.” Seems like a good and encouraging piece of advice until you realised that it was sung by a person or persons dying by crucifixion (not Jesus but the movie’s eponymous protagonist, Brian, Jesus’ neighbour) and it comes in the closing scene of the Monty Python movie, with other crucifixion victims joining in the chorus as the credits roll. To declare that one should always look on the bright side of life even as one suffers the excruciatingly slow and painful execution of crucifixion is the height of irony. Is this what our Lord is suggesting in His teaching on the beatitudes? Should we be “happy” or pretend to be “happy” even when everything is going south? Is this the reason why we Christians declare that the Friday where our Lord was betrayed, tortured, humiliated and died, a “Good” Friday instead of a “bad” one?
Perhaps, there is always at least two ways of looking at a bad situation. An old ditty best sums this up: “Two men looked out from prison bars, one saw the mud, the other saw stars." This little ditty highlights that individuals in the same situation can have vastly different perspectives; one sees only the negative, while the other finds hope or the positive, demonstrating how perspective shapes one's experience and can lead to different choices.
Likewise, there are also two different ways of viewing the scenarios described by the Beatitudes. One may see them as misfortunes and even curses from God - poverty, weakness, hunger, grief, loss, persecution - who wouldn’t? But then our Lord invites us to view them as blessings and in fact a source of Christian joy. Which view seems more realistic? If we didn’t know Jesus any better, we would have chosen the former. When faced with difficulties, trials and tribulations, our first reaction would be a negative one, rather than a positive one - we would see mud, rather than stars. But the Beatitudes seek to challenge this world view.
So, how do we make the shift from seeing only mud to seeing stars, even in the most difficult and painful situations of life? The recently canonised Saint Carlo Acutis gives us the answer: “Sadness is turning one’s gaze inward; happiness is turning one’s gaze toward God. Conversion is nothing other than shifting one’s gaze from below to above. A simple movement of the eyes is enough.” The wise words of this young man shows us that the joy described by our Lord in the Beatitudes are not naive or false optimism; instead, they represent a deeper, authentic joy found not in worldly success but in humility, mercy, and aligning one's life with God's will. The Beatitudes overturn worldly standards of happiness, which often equate it with wealth, power, and success. True joy comes from recognising one's spiritual need and emptying the self to make room for God, rather than filling oneself with material possessions or self-sufficiency.
Our modern society is suffering from a pandemic of narcissism, of self-absorption, where we believe that everything revolves around us as the centre of the universe. So, every difficulty or challenge, every hurdle or obstacle we encounter in life, becomes another opportunity to moan our misfortune and decry our victimhood. The situations in the Beatitudes will definitely look like “mud”, like curses, if we are merely focusing on ourselves. Saint Acutis was correct to diagnose the cause of “sadness,” it’s “turning one’s gaze inward.”
Our Lord provides the antidote to this pandemic of narcissism through His Beatitudes. A saint is one who turns his gaze to God or as Carlo Acutis puts it, the secret to happiness is “shifting one’s gaze from below to above.” The saint is not an individual who is insulated from what the world sees as unhappy situations but is one who can shift his or her gaze from his present turmoil and sufferings to the joy of eternal life which God has promised to those who remain faithful and on course in following His Son.
In the first reading, we are given a vision of the host of saints arrayed in heaven. They are not those spared of persecution but rather those who have gone through it. In the gospel, our Lord is speaking to people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation and death are daily realities. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be blessed. They will be assured of true happiness. If we love God and the things of God as we ought, even in this life, we will consider the suffering we experience in this life as insignificant in comparison to the joys for which we hope. And unless we learn to love God above all things, and all things for God’s sake, we shall never find true happiness. This is the message of the Beatitudes.
So, our Lord invites us who are called to be saints to always reach for the stars instead of grovelling in the mud of despair. To always look on the brighter side of life is not to ignore the issues and difficulties we have to face or attempt to pull the wool over our eyes and pretend these problems do not exist. But we need to remember that concentrating on the problem can make it appear larger and more consuming. Focusing on problems can lead to depression, despair and exhaustion. If problems are the sole focus, God can diminish in your vision, leading to a forgetfulness of His promises and power. Instead, we are called like all the saints to always shift our gaze from below to above, to focus on the Lord even if we are in the midst of pain and distress because as the Psalmist assures us, we “shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves him. Such are the men who seek him, seek the face of the God of Jacob.”
At the end of his homily on the occasion of the canonisation of two amazing men, young saints of our time, Pope Leo XIV said that the lives of “Saints Pier Giorgio Frassati and Carlo Acutis are an invitation to all of us, especially young people, not to waste our lives, but to direct them upward and make them a masterpiece. They encourage us with their words: "Not I, but God," said Carlo. And Pier Giorgio: "If you have God at the centre of all your actions, then you will reach the end." This is the simple but sure formula of their holiness. And it is also the testimony we are called to imitate to enjoy life to the fullest and go to meet the Lord at the feast in heaven.”
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Monday, October 20, 2025
The impartial God has favourites
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
Most people look forward to Christmas or their birthdays, as they would expect a pleasant surprise in the form of a present. I knew what to expect each year - another book, the next volume of “Tell me why?” or some other informative work of non-fiction. It wouldn’t have been so painful except I enviously saw my brother getting the latest toys and games. I’ve since concluded that life isn’t fair and sometimes it does feel that parents have their favourites.
As far as underlings are concerned, whether it be an employee, a subordinate, a subject, a student or a child, the greatest sin of a superior is favouritism and partiality. Partiality means to show preference for one over another. For most people, partiality is equated with injustice. But here’s the irony, and I would dare say, the hypocrisy of the matter. Though we would expect impartiality of our superiors, we would also expect that they side with us, which means that they should be partial to us.
If there is anyone who suffers this tension more than any living person, it is God. God, of all persons, is expected to be perfectly impartial and yet He is often accused of not taking our side. In other words, we expect both impartiality and partiality of God. We hope and pray that He favours us while not siding with our enemies and rivals. So, is God impartial or partial? Does He have favourites or does He not have favourites? Our simple minds would not be able to reconcile this contradiction and yet we can practically live with both.
God may appear to be partial while He is really levelling the playing field. When He sides with the poor, the oppressed and even with sinners, He is actually correcting the injustice which they are suffering at the hands of others or due to sin. The values of the Kingdom of God may appear to be upside down when compared to our earthly experience, but it is actually the right side up of how things should be. God loves this beautiful but broken creation of His, and He is going to heal it and remake it according to His original plan. This is what we are witnessing in today’s readings.
In the first reading, after hearing this declaration that God is impartial, that He “is a judge who is no respecter of personages”, it becomes clear that God is partial to the voiceless poor man who has no wealth to buy influence or justice. In fact, we are told that God “listens to the plea of the injured party …., does not ignore the orphan’s supplication, nor the widow’s as she pours out her story.” He has a special ear for the “man who with his whole heart” and “the humble man’s prayer.” The Psalmist goes further by declaring that “the Lord is close to the broken-hearted; those whose spirit is crushed he will save.” The reason for this is not because God is partial and has favourites. It is because He wishes to correct the injustice that has sought to silence the voice of the weak, the oppressed and the poor and denied them justice.
In the gospel, our Lord tells the familiar parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector and contrasts the type of prayer and outcome of both, with God seeming to favour the latter instead of the former. In our simple sense of justice, shouldn’t sinners be punished and the righteous be rewarded? The interesting point to note here is that God’s partiality seems to depart from the Old Testament model of God bending to the cries of the poor, the weak or even the righteous and instead chooses to lean in the direction of a sinner. There is no indication that this tax collector was poor. In fact, he would have accumulated great wealth, some at the expense of others through exploitation and unjust means, and yet God justifies him at the end of the story. How do we make sense of this?
This is where we need to relook at what it means to be poor. Poverty is not confined to material poverty. In fact, our Lord in the Beatitudes (Matthew’s version), speaks of spiritual poverty which goes beyond a lack of money or possessions. Few of us nowadays would be so crass as to show outwardly any disdain for a poor man because he is poor, but we all have our poor: poor in knowledge, poor in skill, poor in good looks, poor in taste, poor in social skills, poor in reputation, spiritually and morally poor. The Lutheran martyr and theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer argues that the greatest evil is stupidity, a poverty of intellectual depth. Suffering such people is more vexing than having to suffer the materially poor.
So, although this tax collector may be considered richer than the Pharisee, he possesses a spiritual poverty that turns the heart of God towards him. Spiritual poverty is a deep awareness that one is spiritually destitute and powerless without God's grace, wisdom, and strength. The tax collector knows that he is a sinner and acknowledges it, more than we can say about the Pharisee. It is humility that finds favour with God. “God opposes the proud but shows favour to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5). The beauty that radiates when true humility is demonstrated carries a supernatural power that can turn tides, turn hearts, and attract favour with God and man that simply cannot be achieved by natural means. The Blessed Virgin Mary found favour with God as announced by the Angel because she had humbly submitted to His will.
The Pharisee, by contrast, arrogantly boasts of his merits and achievements before God. His perception of his spiritual wealth is delusional. He too is a sinner, “for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), but he refuses to admit it. He so believes in his own righteousness and self-sufficiency that he sees no need for God.
It is widely acceptable to claim that God sides with the poor, that He has a preferential option for the poor, but it is hard to wrap our head around the claim that He favours the sinner, for wouldn’t that mean that He favours sin too? Remember that when God appears to show partiality, it is so that He wishes to correct the injustice and wrongdoing caused by impartiality and sin. And this is the same with how He treats sinners. He draws near to them in order that they may turn away from their sins in genuine repentance in order to turn towards Him in humble submission. He is the divine physician who has come to heal the spiritually sick and who are in need of forgiveness. God stands by the sinner not to defend his offences, some of which is morally indefensible, but to defend him against the destruction caused by these evil deeds. The Lord stands by us not to confirm and support us in our sinfulness but to save us from it!
Back to the story of my annual birthday and Christmas presents. One day, I had an opportunity to exchange notes with my brother on growing up experiences and pangs and I shared how I often felt cheated at the presents I got while he seemed to get the better deal. He then told me that our parents most likely saw the potential in me because I was the “clever one”, thus hoping that I would get a head start with the books which will develop into a love for knowledge. It dawned on me that this is how God works too. He doesn’t give us what we want or what we deserve. He gives us what we “need,” and that’s always the best gift. God is impartial but He also loves each of us dearly and uniquely, so, don’t compare your lot with others but rather be grateful for what you’ve received. I can assure you that this is always the best!
Most people look forward to Christmas or their birthdays, as they would expect a pleasant surprise in the form of a present. I knew what to expect each year - another book, the next volume of “Tell me why?” or some other informative work of non-fiction. It wouldn’t have been so painful except I enviously saw my brother getting the latest toys and games. I’ve since concluded that life isn’t fair and sometimes it does feel that parents have their favourites.
As far as underlings are concerned, whether it be an employee, a subordinate, a subject, a student or a child, the greatest sin of a superior is favouritism and partiality. Partiality means to show preference for one over another. For most people, partiality is equated with injustice. But here’s the irony, and I would dare say, the hypocrisy of the matter. Though we would expect impartiality of our superiors, we would also expect that they side with us, which means that they should be partial to us.
If there is anyone who suffers this tension more than any living person, it is God. God, of all persons, is expected to be perfectly impartial and yet He is often accused of not taking our side. In other words, we expect both impartiality and partiality of God. We hope and pray that He favours us while not siding with our enemies and rivals. So, is God impartial or partial? Does He have favourites or does He not have favourites? Our simple minds would not be able to reconcile this contradiction and yet we can practically live with both.
God may appear to be partial while He is really levelling the playing field. When He sides with the poor, the oppressed and even with sinners, He is actually correcting the injustice which they are suffering at the hands of others or due to sin. The values of the Kingdom of God may appear to be upside down when compared to our earthly experience, but it is actually the right side up of how things should be. God loves this beautiful but broken creation of His, and He is going to heal it and remake it according to His original plan. This is what we are witnessing in today’s readings.
In the first reading, after hearing this declaration that God is impartial, that He “is a judge who is no respecter of personages”, it becomes clear that God is partial to the voiceless poor man who has no wealth to buy influence or justice. In fact, we are told that God “listens to the plea of the injured party …., does not ignore the orphan’s supplication, nor the widow’s as she pours out her story.” He has a special ear for the “man who with his whole heart” and “the humble man’s prayer.” The Psalmist goes further by declaring that “the Lord is close to the broken-hearted; those whose spirit is crushed he will save.” The reason for this is not because God is partial and has favourites. It is because He wishes to correct the injustice that has sought to silence the voice of the weak, the oppressed and the poor and denied them justice.
In the gospel, our Lord tells the familiar parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector and contrasts the type of prayer and outcome of both, with God seeming to favour the latter instead of the former. In our simple sense of justice, shouldn’t sinners be punished and the righteous be rewarded? The interesting point to note here is that God’s partiality seems to depart from the Old Testament model of God bending to the cries of the poor, the weak or even the righteous and instead chooses to lean in the direction of a sinner. There is no indication that this tax collector was poor. In fact, he would have accumulated great wealth, some at the expense of others through exploitation and unjust means, and yet God justifies him at the end of the story. How do we make sense of this?
This is where we need to relook at what it means to be poor. Poverty is not confined to material poverty. In fact, our Lord in the Beatitudes (Matthew’s version), speaks of spiritual poverty which goes beyond a lack of money or possessions. Few of us nowadays would be so crass as to show outwardly any disdain for a poor man because he is poor, but we all have our poor: poor in knowledge, poor in skill, poor in good looks, poor in taste, poor in social skills, poor in reputation, spiritually and morally poor. The Lutheran martyr and theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer argues that the greatest evil is stupidity, a poverty of intellectual depth. Suffering such people is more vexing than having to suffer the materially poor.
So, although this tax collector may be considered richer than the Pharisee, he possesses a spiritual poverty that turns the heart of God towards him. Spiritual poverty is a deep awareness that one is spiritually destitute and powerless without God's grace, wisdom, and strength. The tax collector knows that he is a sinner and acknowledges it, more than we can say about the Pharisee. It is humility that finds favour with God. “God opposes the proud but shows favour to the humble” (1 Peter 5:5). The beauty that radiates when true humility is demonstrated carries a supernatural power that can turn tides, turn hearts, and attract favour with God and man that simply cannot be achieved by natural means. The Blessed Virgin Mary found favour with God as announced by the Angel because she had humbly submitted to His will.
The Pharisee, by contrast, arrogantly boasts of his merits and achievements before God. His perception of his spiritual wealth is delusional. He too is a sinner, “for all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God” (Rom 3:23), but he refuses to admit it. He so believes in his own righteousness and self-sufficiency that he sees no need for God.
It is widely acceptable to claim that God sides with the poor, that He has a preferential option for the poor, but it is hard to wrap our head around the claim that He favours the sinner, for wouldn’t that mean that He favours sin too? Remember that when God appears to show partiality, it is so that He wishes to correct the injustice and wrongdoing caused by impartiality and sin. And this is the same with how He treats sinners. He draws near to them in order that they may turn away from their sins in genuine repentance in order to turn towards Him in humble submission. He is the divine physician who has come to heal the spiritually sick and who are in need of forgiveness. God stands by the sinner not to defend his offences, some of which is morally indefensible, but to defend him against the destruction caused by these evil deeds. The Lord stands by us not to confirm and support us in our sinfulness but to save us from it!
Back to the story of my annual birthday and Christmas presents. One day, I had an opportunity to exchange notes with my brother on growing up experiences and pangs and I shared how I often felt cheated at the presents I got while he seemed to get the better deal. He then told me that our parents most likely saw the potential in me because I was the “clever one”, thus hoping that I would get a head start with the books which will develop into a love for knowledge. It dawned on me that this is how God works too. He doesn’t give us what we want or what we deserve. He gives us what we “need,” and that’s always the best gift. God is impartial but He also loves each of us dearly and uniquely, so, don’t compare your lot with others but rather be grateful for what you’ve received. I can assure you that this is always the best!
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Monday, October 13, 2025
Spiritual Warfare
Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
The recent assassination of a Christian apologist, political activist and commentator in the United States has exposed how a nation can be divided along deep irreconcilable ideological lines. In the aftermath of the assassination, calls by one side for unity, to tone down the rhetoric, to de-escalate the conflict may actually be insincere and quite hypocritical, for how can one side be asked to disarm while the other side continues to aim their guns at a target on your back. It would literally be suicide. There can be no real peace without authentic conversion on both sides and there can be no conversion if one does not accept the blame.
What has this to do with the readings for today which speak more about prayer then it does about conflict resolution? Most people do not see a connexion but prayer is the foundation of real peace as well as the most potent weapon in spiritual warfare, and believe me, we are at war. The conflict we are witnessing is merely a shadow of the spiritual war that is raging beneath the surface. That is why St Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, tells us, “Put on the full armour of God so as to be able to resist the devil's tactics. For it is not against human enemies that we have to struggle, but against the principalities and the ruling forces who are masters of the darkness in this world, the spirits of evil in the heavens.” (Eph 6:11-13).
The prevalence and unrelenting force of evil is an important reminder that we Christians should be constantly equipped and prepared for spiritual warfare. Yes, we are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. The former understands that peace can only be achieved by defeating evil and upholding the truth and what is good. Peacekeepers only wish to maintain a semblance of calm by all means necessary, even compromising with evil. Do not be so naive to think that we are in a time of peace, do not be so simplistic as to think that we can simply hold up a white flag and parlay with the enemy. There can be no negotiation or compromise with evil. There can be no unity with those who see no need to disavow evil, but in fact continue to promote it. Evil can only be fought and defeated. You can’t make evil your friend. That would be surrendering to evil, which means acquiescing to evil’s ultimate victory. Any harmony that arises from accommodating evil is not true harmony but subjugation to it. So, what must Christians do in the face of evil? We must fight and our most vital weapon is prayer.
In the first reading, we see how prayer sustained the fight between the Israelites and the Amalekites. In ancient times, conflict of nations was viewed as the conflict of their divinities, and the stronger divinities won. As much as war is a great evil, the Israelites were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their faith in God. As long as Moses held up the staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. But whenever he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer.
The gospel provides us with another lesson of prayer but our Lord frames it in the form of a parable. If the analogy in the first reading seems clearer in terms of spiritual warfare, the parable which our Lord tells seems to place the issue of prayer squarely with God. What if God doesn’t seem to be hearing our petitions or is slow in acting? It sometimes feels that the greater warfare is with Him rather than with evil itself. It does sometimes seem as if we are fighting God.
It is interesting that our Lord frames His lesson on prayer by using the example of an unjust judge, who seems to only dispense justice when he is pestered and pushed to a corner. It is certainly not a very charitable image of God. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?
Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. We are the accused, not God. We can now see why our Lord uses the image of a judge in His parable. Unlike this corrupt judicial officer, God is the Judge of both the living and the dead, and His judgment is always fair and just. Our Lord sets out the charge against us with this question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.
But prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.” And so he exhorts us: “Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.”
Most of us do not like conflict. In fact, many of us choose to avoid it, preferring harmony over open disagreements. “Choose your battles” is generally good advice. But even though we may not go out of the way to look for a fight, living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarised in a single word, “embattled.” The fight comes to us whether we like it or not, which means that we must be ready and be prepared for a fight. Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts. There is a spiritual battle at war within each one of us. Every person is at war against the evil one for their soul, no one is exempt in this battle of human life.
Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must — by God’s grace and our effort — persevere and win. And should our hands grow weary like Moses, though we do not have companions like Aaron and Hur to help us hold them upright, we know that God Himself will give us the Holy Spirit, the sacraments and necessary graces to persevere. For it has been promised that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
The recent assassination of a Christian apologist, political activist and commentator in the United States has exposed how a nation can be divided along deep irreconcilable ideological lines. In the aftermath of the assassination, calls by one side for unity, to tone down the rhetoric, to de-escalate the conflict may actually be insincere and quite hypocritical, for how can one side be asked to disarm while the other side continues to aim their guns at a target on your back. It would literally be suicide. There can be no real peace without authentic conversion on both sides and there can be no conversion if one does not accept the blame.
What has this to do with the readings for today which speak more about prayer then it does about conflict resolution? Most people do not see a connexion but prayer is the foundation of real peace as well as the most potent weapon in spiritual warfare, and believe me, we are at war. The conflict we are witnessing is merely a shadow of the spiritual war that is raging beneath the surface. That is why St Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, tells us, “Put on the full armour of God so as to be able to resist the devil's tactics. For it is not against human enemies that we have to struggle, but against the principalities and the ruling forces who are masters of the darkness in this world, the spirits of evil in the heavens.” (Eph 6:11-13).
The prevalence and unrelenting force of evil is an important reminder that we Christians should be constantly equipped and prepared for spiritual warfare. Yes, we are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. The former understands that peace can only be achieved by defeating evil and upholding the truth and what is good. Peacekeepers only wish to maintain a semblance of calm by all means necessary, even compromising with evil. Do not be so naive to think that we are in a time of peace, do not be so simplistic as to think that we can simply hold up a white flag and parlay with the enemy. There can be no negotiation or compromise with evil. There can be no unity with those who see no need to disavow evil, but in fact continue to promote it. Evil can only be fought and defeated. You can’t make evil your friend. That would be surrendering to evil, which means acquiescing to evil’s ultimate victory. Any harmony that arises from accommodating evil is not true harmony but subjugation to it. So, what must Christians do in the face of evil? We must fight and our most vital weapon is prayer.
In the first reading, we see how prayer sustained the fight between the Israelites and the Amalekites. In ancient times, conflict of nations was viewed as the conflict of their divinities, and the stronger divinities won. As much as war is a great evil, the Israelites were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their faith in God. As long as Moses held up the staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. But whenever he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer.
The gospel provides us with another lesson of prayer but our Lord frames it in the form of a parable. If the analogy in the first reading seems clearer in terms of spiritual warfare, the parable which our Lord tells seems to place the issue of prayer squarely with God. What if God doesn’t seem to be hearing our petitions or is slow in acting? It sometimes feels that the greater warfare is with Him rather than with evil itself. It does sometimes seem as if we are fighting God.
It is interesting that our Lord frames His lesson on prayer by using the example of an unjust judge, who seems to only dispense justice when he is pestered and pushed to a corner. It is certainly not a very charitable image of God. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?
Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. We are the accused, not God. We can now see why our Lord uses the image of a judge in His parable. Unlike this corrupt judicial officer, God is the Judge of both the living and the dead, and His judgment is always fair and just. Our Lord sets out the charge against us with this question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.
But prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.” And so he exhorts us: “Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.”
Most of us do not like conflict. In fact, many of us choose to avoid it, preferring harmony over open disagreements. “Choose your battles” is generally good advice. But even though we may not go out of the way to look for a fight, living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarised in a single word, “embattled.” The fight comes to us whether we like it or not, which means that we must be ready and be prepared for a fight. Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts. There is a spiritual battle at war within each one of us. Every person is at war against the evil one for their soul, no one is exempt in this battle of human life.
Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must — by God’s grace and our effort — persevere and win. And should our hands grow weary like Moses, though we do not have companions like Aaron and Hur to help us hold them upright, we know that God Himself will give us the Holy Spirit, the sacraments and necessary graces to persevere. For it has been promised that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
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Sunday Homily
Monday, October 6, 2025
Faith, Gratitude and Salvation
Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
From a young age I recalled being taught and being constantly reminded by my parents and teachers that I should preface every request with a “please” and conclude every request answered with a “thank you.” That’s basic etiquette for you. And so many of our generation are alarmed when we witness younger children these days forgetting these most basic rules. They take without saying “please” and leave without saying “thank you.” This would have earned us the sternest side eye from our parents and a good spanking or caning when we are in the privacy of our homes. While you may think that saying please and thank you is a trivial matter, a mere nicety, failing to do so is more significant than you think. It costs nothing to say please and thank you. But forgetting those magic words can cost you everything.
This is what we learn from today’s gospel passage. Ten men were healed. They had requested this of the Lord. They had even offered the requisite “please” out of politeness. But immediately after having received what they had asked for, it soon became apparent that the word was a mere perfunctory gesture. Their lack of gratitude, save for one, revealed their true attitude - one of entitlement rather than of humble acknowledgment of their condition. For this reason, nine went off without giving a second thought to express gratitude to the Lord.
This would be a sad ending if indeed the story ended here. But just as it is fashionable to have post-credit scenes in many recent movies, one would need to patiently wait for the next part of the story - the real ending. And it is here that we read with delight how one of those lepers returned, he “turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” And this made all the difference. Our Lord would declare to this individual as He commissioned him at the end of the story: “Your faith has saved you.”
Although, gratitude seems to be the major theme of this story, it is really faith which underpins the whole narrative. All ten lepers had sufficient faith in our Lord’s authority and power and therefore received healing from His hands. But only one’s faith saved him - the Samaritan leper. What distinguished him from the others? He was the only one who returned praising God, worshipped Christ and gave thanks for the healing he had received. Only his faith could recognise the source of his healing which led to worship and thanksgiving.
While I was in the United States, I once asked a colleague if everyone, including agnostics and atheists, celebrated one of their greatest civic holidays, Thanksgiving, often done so with much religious fervour, and he answered in the affirmative. My next question: “if they don’t believe in God, who are they thanking?” Seems like a valid question. How can we offer thanksgiving if we do not believe in something or someone to be thankful for? We can be thankful for our family. We can be thankful for gainful employment. We can be thankful for good health. But all of these are just mere sentiments when there is no object to offer our gratitude. That is why true gratitude must always be intertwined with faith for it is faith that provides us with the reason not only to believe but to be grateful. True faith ultimately leads to thanksgiving and gratitude must ultimately be directed to God, the source of all goodness and blessings.
No work of God's is more worthy of gratitude than salvation. Only the foreigner, the Samaritan leper, is grateful for the grace received and that is his salvation. The others think solely of the benefits received, physical healing and social acceptance; but neglected to pursue the path of well-ness right to its very end – salvation. Selective forgetfulness is to be blamed for this. Christ not only rescued us from the power and penalty of our sins, He also lifted us to the realm of grace. He delivered us from punishment and brought glory. He defeated death and won for us eternal life. He took away the threat of hell and gave us the hope of heaven. Too often, we take all these things for granted, which is to say, that we have forgotten the gain we have received. As the French would tell us, gratitude is the memory of the heart. Gratitude should make us sing of salvation, talk of salvation. Thanking God for saving us should be the unceasing occupation of our lips.
Gratitude isn't something that should pass from our minds with the passing of a season. It's an attitude, a God-centred response to circumstances that should pervade every season of our lives. Imagine a Church or a parish that follows the example of the grateful former leper. Imagine serving in a culture of gratitude—not a culture of obligation, or guilt, or arrogance, or exclusion, or pride. A person cannot be complaining and thankful at the same time, nor can they worry about money or health or anything while being thankful. With gratitude comes joy, hope, peace and love. That’s the secret of transformation. It is not found in any programme or slogan or gimmick. True transformation, whether it be in a community like a parish or a family, or personal transformation, always begins with gratitude.
The story of the ten lepers is a wonderful story of the infinite grace and mercy of our Lord and Saviour, one who gives us good gifts, even if we have ungrateful hearts. It is also a story which challenges us to place our trust in God, to follow His commands, and to see the wonderful rewards this brings us. In a few moments we will come to the table of Christ together to celebrate the Eucharist. The word ‘Eucharist’ comes from the Greek word, “eucharistia,” (εὐχαριστία) meaning to give thanks (for the good graces we have received). And so, we give thanks not just because God has healed us, He has liberated us from sin, fear and anxiety. We give thanks because the Sacrifice of the Cross re-enacted at every Eucharist has saved us and continues to make us whole – completing, bringing together and finishing the grand work of salvation which God has begun in us. And I don’t know about you, but the prospect of being made whole, being healed, being liberated and being saved is enough to make me turn around, rush back again to Jesus, and say thank you, Jesus. Thank you so very much.
From a young age I recalled being taught and being constantly reminded by my parents and teachers that I should preface every request with a “please” and conclude every request answered with a “thank you.” That’s basic etiquette for you. And so many of our generation are alarmed when we witness younger children these days forgetting these most basic rules. They take without saying “please” and leave without saying “thank you.” This would have earned us the sternest side eye from our parents and a good spanking or caning when we are in the privacy of our homes. While you may think that saying please and thank you is a trivial matter, a mere nicety, failing to do so is more significant than you think. It costs nothing to say please and thank you. But forgetting those magic words can cost you everything.
This is what we learn from today’s gospel passage. Ten men were healed. They had requested this of the Lord. They had even offered the requisite “please” out of politeness. But immediately after having received what they had asked for, it soon became apparent that the word was a mere perfunctory gesture. Their lack of gratitude, save for one, revealed their true attitude - one of entitlement rather than of humble acknowledgment of their condition. For this reason, nine went off without giving a second thought to express gratitude to the Lord.
This would be a sad ending if indeed the story ended here. But just as it is fashionable to have post-credit scenes in many recent movies, one would need to patiently wait for the next part of the story - the real ending. And it is here that we read with delight how one of those lepers returned, he “turned back praising God at the top of his voice and threw himself at the feet of Jesus and thanked him.” And this made all the difference. Our Lord would declare to this individual as He commissioned him at the end of the story: “Your faith has saved you.”
Although, gratitude seems to be the major theme of this story, it is really faith which underpins the whole narrative. All ten lepers had sufficient faith in our Lord’s authority and power and therefore received healing from His hands. But only one’s faith saved him - the Samaritan leper. What distinguished him from the others? He was the only one who returned praising God, worshipped Christ and gave thanks for the healing he had received. Only his faith could recognise the source of his healing which led to worship and thanksgiving.
While I was in the United States, I once asked a colleague if everyone, including agnostics and atheists, celebrated one of their greatest civic holidays, Thanksgiving, often done so with much religious fervour, and he answered in the affirmative. My next question: “if they don’t believe in God, who are they thanking?” Seems like a valid question. How can we offer thanksgiving if we do not believe in something or someone to be thankful for? We can be thankful for our family. We can be thankful for gainful employment. We can be thankful for good health. But all of these are just mere sentiments when there is no object to offer our gratitude. That is why true gratitude must always be intertwined with faith for it is faith that provides us with the reason not only to believe but to be grateful. True faith ultimately leads to thanksgiving and gratitude must ultimately be directed to God, the source of all goodness and blessings.
No work of God's is more worthy of gratitude than salvation. Only the foreigner, the Samaritan leper, is grateful for the grace received and that is his salvation. The others think solely of the benefits received, physical healing and social acceptance; but neglected to pursue the path of well-ness right to its very end – salvation. Selective forgetfulness is to be blamed for this. Christ not only rescued us from the power and penalty of our sins, He also lifted us to the realm of grace. He delivered us from punishment and brought glory. He defeated death and won for us eternal life. He took away the threat of hell and gave us the hope of heaven. Too often, we take all these things for granted, which is to say, that we have forgotten the gain we have received. As the French would tell us, gratitude is the memory of the heart. Gratitude should make us sing of salvation, talk of salvation. Thanking God for saving us should be the unceasing occupation of our lips.
Gratitude isn't something that should pass from our minds with the passing of a season. It's an attitude, a God-centred response to circumstances that should pervade every season of our lives. Imagine a Church or a parish that follows the example of the grateful former leper. Imagine serving in a culture of gratitude—not a culture of obligation, or guilt, or arrogance, or exclusion, or pride. A person cannot be complaining and thankful at the same time, nor can they worry about money or health or anything while being thankful. With gratitude comes joy, hope, peace and love. That’s the secret of transformation. It is not found in any programme or slogan or gimmick. True transformation, whether it be in a community like a parish or a family, or personal transformation, always begins with gratitude.
The story of the ten lepers is a wonderful story of the infinite grace and mercy of our Lord and Saviour, one who gives us good gifts, even if we have ungrateful hearts. It is also a story which challenges us to place our trust in God, to follow His commands, and to see the wonderful rewards this brings us. In a few moments we will come to the table of Christ together to celebrate the Eucharist. The word ‘Eucharist’ comes from the Greek word, “eucharistia,” (εὐχαριστία) meaning to give thanks (for the good graces we have received). And so, we give thanks not just because God has healed us, He has liberated us from sin, fear and anxiety. We give thanks because the Sacrifice of the Cross re-enacted at every Eucharist has saved us and continues to make us whole – completing, bringing together and finishing the grand work of salvation which God has begun in us. And I don’t know about you, but the prospect of being made whole, being healed, being liberated and being saved is enough to make me turn around, rush back again to Jesus, and say thank you, Jesus. Thank you so very much.
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