Friday, October 30, 2015

成为一位圣人

诸圣瞻礼 

 在这个时代要成为一位圣人是相当困难的。要做一个好人很难,要做自己认为是对的事也很难。当我们多次尝试要开始度圣善生活时,周遭的朋友或亲戚就会拉我们去做一些不那么圣洁的活动。你要么就跟着大伙儿一起去,不然就要另外再结交新朋友了。要变坏其实非常容易,就像其他没度圣善生活的人一样,这样就不会有人说你太像圣人而拿你来开玩笑。 

在今日的时代,传统观念里圣人的英勇芳表都没被世俗看重,他们的圣德尚且还会被人嘲笑。圣人应该是信德的英雄,不过,在这追求新奇事物的世代,要当这样的英雄却被看作是非常无聊的事,所以在电影、书本及漫画的情节里,那些所谓的坏蛋小人有时反而会被推崇为新英雄。今时今日,我们的确很难分辨出谁是好人、哪一些是坏人。很多时候,那些被认定是好人的一群,却是随意下判断的伪君子;而那些通常被认定是坏人的一群,则被描绘成真正的英雄。 

 但是如果我们尝试活得像圣人、要过圣洁的生活而受到别人的嘲笑时,就应该欢欣喜悦,因为这是成为基督徒的最好时机,也就是天主要我们展露祂真正容貌的时刻。今天听到了主耶稣的真福八端,特别是那最后一端:“几时人为了我而辱骂迫害你们,捏造一切坏话毁谤你们,你们是有福的。你们欢喜踊跃罢!因为你们在天上的赏报是丰厚的。”对于这一端,我有亲身体验。当在我决定披上这黑袍,穿着它在街上走的时候,经常都有路人盯视着我,不止这样,就连一些教友和神父也认为我失去理智而嘲笑我。是的,在过去,圣洁虔诚都被认为是好事。不过,现在不如从前,在现世要过圣洁的生活,都会被看成是伪善和疯狂的举动。 

 对于圣人,教会和世俗的看法是对立的,在这诸圣瞻礼,教会说:“我们爱我们的圣人!”在教会的礼仪年历中,几乎每一天都献给某一个圣人。换句话说,教会在整个礼仪年中给我们看到了那么多圣人的英勇信德和圣洁榜样。这似乎还不够,比起前几任教宗,教宗圣若望保禄二世册封了更多的圣人。当有人问他为何那样做,他这样答道:“在一个信德薄弱的世界内,我们需要更多的信德榜样。在一个失去希望的世界中,我们需要更多的望德芳表。在一个充满暴力及死亡的世界里,我们需要能带来和平的明灯指引方向。”换句话说,借着对圣人的敬礼,天主教会提醒我们生活的真谛——那就是不向恶,而是向善。伟大的圣人们不只是对基督徒,也是对全人类展现,成为一个完美的人的意义。 

 圣人不是什么超人,也不是脱离了人性的天使。圣人就像你和我一样,是有血有肉的普通人,他们都经历了人的痛苦与磨难,最后能够成圣是因为他们不屈服于绝望中。这些圣人都是真福八端的活见证:“神贫的人是有福的,因为天国是他们的……哀恸的人是有福的,因为他们要受安慰……为义而受迫害的人是有福的,因为天国是他们的。” 现今是更需要专注于度圣善生活的时候,因为我们都被召叫成圣,社会需要见到美丽且发光的教会。这是成为基督徒的最好时候,也是成为天主教徒的美好时刻,更是必要成圣的时机。

Saturday, October 17, 2015

Hope is Necessary in Every Condition



Thirtieth Ordinary Sunday Year B

William Samuel Johnson (1727-1819) was a major figure in the American independence, considered one of the founding fathers of the nation. Having witnessed the transition from British colonial rule to a precarious federation of diversely different states, it is no wonder that many of his quotes have been immortalised, including this one, “Hope is necessary in every condition. The miseries of poverty, sickness and captivity would, without this comfort, be insupportable.” In these troubled times, beset by woes, tragedies, pessimistic forecasts of an uncertain future, hope is indeed necessary.

Most of us would hear quite a bit about the importance of the theological virtues of faith and love. One is counseled to have faith in God that He will bring the best result out of the situation, and never stop loving even in the face of adversity. Although hope, is of extreme importance in Christian life, especially when in the middle of difficult of confusing times, it is a virtue that is often neglected or misunderstood. Many confuse hope for false optimism – “Don’t worry, things are going to get better.” Experience will tell you that it doesn’t always get better. In fact, we have numerous testimonies that things often descend into worse scenarios.

But for us Christians, why is hope so necessary? Wouldn’t faith or love suffice? Though faith in God can help assuage worry, and love can help overcome the sadness over what is being left behind, hope is the virtue which lifts one out of the situation and helps him anticipate the future with joy. As Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI wrote in his beautiful encyclical Spe Salvi, “Only when the future is certain as a positive reality does it become possible to live the present as well.” Yes, often a person leans on faith to take care of what he does not have time to consider, and love to help him feel better in the moment. But ultimately it is hope which is needed to reach that interior peace, which allows one to look beyond the present pain, to find joy in the struggle, and to muster the strength to reach for the good that is ahead.

Today, we encounter the blind man Bartimaeus in the gospel. Looking at Bartimaeus, we see a man who’s at the end of his rope. He experiences a flicker of hope when he hears that Jesus, the miracle-worker, is in town. He dreams of the possibility of being able to see; an irrepressible desire for healing. But his quest would not be an easy one. He would have to contend with a gauntlet of sceptics, detractors, pessimists and self-styled realists who try to shut him up. It’s not enough that he’s blind; they wish to render him mute too. These people are not entirely bad or evil. Perhaps, some would like to shield the Master from having to suffer the inconvenience of dealing with every trivial or petty request. Some others may have actually thought that they were being kind to Bartimaeus, to spare him the additional pain that comes from disappointment and false expectations. Our natural tendency when see someone else suffer is to try to make them feel better, correct their idealism by injecting a healthy dose of reality, and help them lower their expectations to reasonable and plausible levels.

This story may resonate with many of us, especially those who wish to find solace, consolation, encouragement and healing from the community of the Church. But instead of encouragement, we encounter only discouragement. The Church is often idealised as a community of saints, but what we often experience is mismatched group of sinners. Our desire to come closer to the throne of grace seems thwarted at every turn. What proves most painful of all is to see people, whom we have come to believe as brothers and sisters in Christ, forming an impenetrable barrier that keeps us from our goal.  Feeling demoralised, unloved and unwanted, many are led to only one conclusion – to give up or quit all together. Very often, we allow disappointment and discouragement that emanates from persons and situations to eclipse our view of Jesus. We mistake human failure for divine apathy.

But Bartimaeus serves as a model for all of us. Where others have turned back, this blind man presses on. Hope helps him to see beyond his physical blindness. He is able to see something where others have failed. He sees a Jesus who will make time for him, a Jesus who will not turn him away, a Jesus who brings healing. He refuses to allow the brokenness of the community, their discouraging words and scepticism to hinder him from his goal. It is ironic that this man does not need eyes to see Jesus. What quality did Bartimaeus possess that allowed him to see beyond physical sight? Or rather what possessed him to rise above the discouragement posed by his peers? The answer lies in the virtue of hope. 

The story of Bartimaeus is a critical reminder that life may be full of setbacks and disappointments, when faith sometimes fail and love seems absent, when the Christian community and the visible Church may fall short of our expectations, that individual Christians may often appear to be more of the Pharisaic mould rather than the Good Samaritan type, but hope helps us to cast our vision beyond the temporal to have a glimpse of the eternal, to see the pristinely divine in the midst of human inadequacies. Hope is never losing sight of the eternal and never allowing it or us to sink beneath the mire of our present woes. While we sometimes get stuck focusing on the here and now, our present situation isn't the end of the story.

We return to those wise and beautiful words of Pope Benedict in Spes Salvi, dedicated to the virtue of hope, “The present, even if it is arduous, can be lived and accepted if it leads towards a goal, if we can be sure of this goal, and if this goal is great enough to justify the effort of the journey.” Hope provides us the strength and courage to endure the disappointments of this life, the tears and sorrows that mark our all too human existence, the weariness that comes with age and finally the dark clouds that dampen our journey, in order that we may live for the eternal tomorrow. Truly, “hope is necessary in every condition.”

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Living with Saints



Solemnity of All Saints

You all remember Julie Andrews of the Mary Poppins and Sound of Music fame. Well, if there is truth to the claim that art imitates life, then that must be said of Julie Andrews. She not only took on roles that were stereotypically sweet, she was in real life, one of the sweetest persons in show business. Julie Andrews gives off goody-two shoes vibes.  It is as if she could do no wrong. Her husband, Blake Edwards, was reputed to have described her as being “so sweet she probably has violets between her legs.” I often wondered what life must have been like for Blake Edwards, to live with such a beloved woman.  Some would have postulated that it must have been wonderful.  On the other hand, it must also have been difficult for Blake Edwards, as it’s never easy to live with a saint.

If I were to say “Everyone hates a saint!” Do you find this shocking and scandalous? But let’s be honest, which of us enjoy living or working with a saint: those sanctimonious, self-righteous, Pharisiacal, holier-than-thou individuals who strut their sanctity and wear holiness like a badge, and who constantly reminds the rest of us that we are wallowing in the mire of our sinfulness. No, in truth, no one likes a saint. They tend to show up our faults more than anything else. If being around a saint is tough, try becoming one. It’s often the quickest way to lose popularity and one of the most efficient tickets that will get you killed.

It’s certainly tough being a saint in today’s day and age. It’s so hard to stay “good” and do what you believe to be right. As much as we often start of trying to live up to the call of holiness, the company we keep inexorably drags us down into some unsaintly activities or lifestyle. It seems to be a simple matter of survival if you wish to fit in. It’s so much easier to act “bad” and behave like the rest of the motley crew of sinners, reveling in their sinfulness and finding comfort that we are “real.” Without a doubt, there is no denying that it's a tough time to be a Catholic today and to live up to your Catholic values. It’s so much easier to hide your religion, to hide your “sanctity.” Who wishes to be derided by that ad hominem remark, “Don’t try to be so holy?” or be called “Holey Moley” or be accused of being “holier-than-thou.” The new normal is “bad.” Holy and good people are just unrealistic anomalies.

Saintliness is the subject of derision because the larger traditional concept of a hero has suffered a greater blow in recent times due to popular culture. A saint is supposed to be an example of heroic faith. The problem is that it is no longer novel to be just a hero – the story of the gallant and noble hero who rescues the maiden in distress. This is just too boring for a world that craves for innovation and the unfamiliar. Therefore, we are beginning to see emerging in cinematography, literature and music, a glorification of the bad, the demonic and the villainous, which were originally seen as the antithesis of heroism. Thus the anti-hero has been canonised in songs like Michael Jackson’s, “I’m Bad, I’m Bad”, vampires in the racy TV series True Blood, Casper in the cartoons, the demonic Hell Boy, witches and wizards in the Harry Porter series. When the lines are blurred, one can’t tell the difference anymore between good and bad, saint and sinner. In fact, it has become quite popular to vilify the saint and canonise the sinner.

But while we all might have to suffer insults, we should indeed rejoice. It's a great time to be a Christian, because this is a time in which God really needs us to show off his true face. Jesus says in the beatitudes we heard today, especially in the last one, “Happy are you when people abuse you and persecute you and speak all kinds of calumny against you on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven.” I've been experiencing that beatitude first hand, when I made a conscious decision to don my black clerical garb. It was not just the stares that I often get when walking with my cassock in public but also the snide remarks and concerned advice from laity and fellow priests who thought that I had fallen off my rocker. It ranges from the more innocent, “have you just returned from a funeral,” to the curious inquiry, “is it not hot?” to the more caustic, “trying to be different ah?”  The subtext of the last comment is that I fit perfectly into that stereotype of Pharisees who wear their sanctity on their shoulders, with protruding phylacteries and long tassels.

Yes, in the past, it was regarded a good thing to be holy and good. It’s not any more. In today’s world, holiness comes across and sanctimonious self-righteousness, and generally a tumour that has to be excised from the rest of the community, if the latter is to survive.  

The Catholic Church’s celebration of the feast day of saints, its continued practice and tradition of canonising ordinary men and women as saints, certainly goes against the tide of this prevalent trend. As opposed to the world, the Church is making this loud claim, “we love our saints!” Almost every day of the liturgical year is dedicated to a saint. In other words, during an entire liturgical year, the Church provides us with so many heroic examples of faith and holiness. We don’t seem to have enough of them. Pope Saint John Paul II, during his pontificate, had canonised more saints than all his predecessors. When asked why he did so, his reply was this: “In a world that is faithless, we need more models of faith. In a world that is hopeless, we need examples of hope. In a world that is so full of violence and death, we need shining beacons of peace.” In other words, by venerating and honouring the saints, the Catholic Church re-establishes the perennial norm for humanity – it isn’t about being bad but about being holy. Saints are supposed to be the norm, not the anomalies.

That’s who saints really are – they show all of us, not only Christians, what it means to be fully human. St Ireaneus says, “The glory of God is man fully alive, but man fully alive is man glorifying God.” But unlike the humanised version of a hero or the recent abomination of the anti-hero, these Christian heroes are mirrors which allow us to see the goodness, the greatness and the love of God. They give a face to the invisible God.

Saints are not superhuman beings. They are not angelic beings who have gotten rid of their humanity. No. The saints are fully human just like you and me. The saints are heroic because their lives demonstrate that they are fully grounded in their own humanness. They are fully human because they are in touch with human pain and suffering. They undergo pain and suffering and yet emerge victorious because they have not allowed despair to overtake them. They are living proof of the beatitudes: “How happy are the poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of heaven … Happy those who mourn: they shall be comforted …Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right: theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

One of the greatest Catholic preachers in American history, Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, the father of TV evangelisation long before the Protestant evangelicals discovered this medium, used to say, that he preferred to live in times when the Church has suffered rather than thrived, when the Church had to struggle, when the Church had to go against the culture. It was a time for real men and real women to stand up and be counted. “Even dead bodies can float downstream,” he used to say, “but it takes a real man, a real woman, to swim against the current.” This is a time in which all of us need to focus ever more on holiness. We're called to be saints and how much our society here needs to see this beautiful, radiant face of the Church. This is one of those times. It's a great time to be a Christian. It is wonderful time to be Catholic. It is a necessary time to be a Saint.  And in any event, living with a saint beats living with an idiot.

Greatness in serving



Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B
Day 3 – 18th October 2015

In recent years one of the most popular books in our culture was The Secret. The premise of the book isn’t that original. It’s the same old rehashed stuff preached by many positive thinking self-help gurus and eulogised in saccharine sweet popular songs, like the one sung by the late Whitney Houston, “The greatest love of all.” It’s ironic that something marketed as a mind-blowing secret has already been in the market for some time, in fact one can even trace it to the 16th century philosopher, Rene Descartes, who postulated this maxim, “I think therefore I am!” The book’s supposed revelation is that you are the centre of the universe, and you can attract all good things to yourself through your thoughts. In other words, you are capable of making your own destiny. The universe exists to serve you, and the secret is that you can attract greatness to yourself. In essence, you are your own god. So serve yourself.

The fact that this book is a best seller betrays the inclination and secret dream of many in desiring to be “great.” Be honest now. Have you ever fantasised about being great? I have. Something deep within us cries out to be recognised as somebody special. To get up in front, to achieve. Or even to be close to someone who does.  A friend once told me that you don’t have to be personally rich or influential, you just need to know people who are rich and influential. Such is the scenario when James and John make their request. Let us look calmly and honestly at ourselves, and we will discover that we too have those same basic desires for recognition, for importance. That same desire for attention, that same desire to be first.

Today’s gospel dispels this myth of self-importance. If the world says, that you are great when many look up to you, or when you have others at your beck and call, Jesus says the opposite. “If anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to all.” To seek one’s greatness and power, Jesus tells us, is at odds with kingdom values. Gentiles lord their authority over one another, a reference to the Roman system where humility was a vice and might was always right. On the other hand, God’s children serve one another. Greatness is found in putting others first and in seeking the welfare of others above one’s own.

Unfortunately, the world doesn’t seem to grasp this important truth of the gospel. Modern culture tends to confuse greatness with pedestals. It is much easier to define greatness in terms of power, possessions, prestige, and position. Let’s face it, in a culture that seems driven by ambition, power, and materialism, acting like a servant is a most unpopular concept. Interestingly, these are “things” found in the temptations of Christ in the desert, temptations which he firmly rejected. Christ’s identity was firmly rooted in his total obedience to the Father’s will. His “ministry” was literally a service to the Father, it was never a show of wealth, or power, or popularity.

Can we be faulted if the apostles themselves fell prey to ambition’s false allure? The request of the two brothers for places of honour in the kingdom not only reflected the common expectation of their contemporaries for a messianic kingdom of political and temporal dimensions, it also reflects modern man’s ambition for greatness, attested to by the proliferation of narcissistic YouTube videos, selfies, and reality TV. Back then, the ambitious siblings were eyeing for key positions in Jesus’ cabinet. Today, many, including those within the Church, jockey for position and prominence.

Following the rather naïve request of the two brothers, followed by the indignation and envious reaction of the others, this passage appropriately includes a lesson on true discipleship and its demands. Exploding their pipe dreams of self-importance and political prestige, Jesus endowed his disciples with an authority to be exercised in service. Paradoxically, those who would be great in the kingdom Jesus proclaimed would seem to be the last of all and the least among all. Jesus challenged his own to look at life, not from the top downward, peering over the heads of others in a false sovereignty, but from life’s underside, from the seamy, less appealing aspects, the perspective of a humble servant.

Pope Emeritus Benedict in an Angelus meditation said, “Authority, for human beings, often means possession, power, dominion and success. Instead for God authority means service, humility and love; it means entering into the logic of Jesus who stoops to wash his disciples’ feet (cf. Jn 13:5), who seeks man’s true good, who heals wounds, who is capable of a love so great that he gives his life, because he is Love.” By stooping down to wash the disciples' feet at the Last Supper, Jesus is calling them not just to be good shepherds, but to exercise authority at the heart of community in a totally new way, a way that is humanly incomprehensible and impossible.  It is just as new and just as impossible as his invitation to forgive seventy-times-seven times, to love enemies and to do good to those who hate us, to give our clothes to those who ask for them, to be constantly gentle and non-violent.  It is just as amazing as when he identifies himself with the poor and the outcast.  In every action and teaching, he reinforces this most central truth, “In my kingdom, the greatest must become the smallest.”  

In the Kingdom of God, the values of the world are inverted. For Jesus, last is the new first. If you choose to be a servant now, you will be first for all of eternity. If you choose to serve in this brief life, you will be rewarded for all of eternity. The Kingdom therefore measures greatness in terms of service, not status. So, in a world where we all desire greatness, some secretly and others less subtly, the truth of today’s gospel provides the answer. In a sermon early in 1968, Martin Luther King Jr. quoted Jesus’ words in today’s gospel passage. “Everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. . . . You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love.”