Choose Salvation and not just Safety

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

I will not lie to you. I will not paint a rosy picture of what’s in store for every Christian who desires to live up to his or her name. The truth is simply this: being a Christian is really hard. So much easier to go with the flow, to fit in, to accommodate and follow how the world thinks, and does things. Try to go against the flow, and you would most likely get hit or be thrown under the bus. It is Venerable Fulton Sheen who tells us, “Today the current is against us. And today the mood of the world is, ‘Go with the world, go with the spirit.’” But the good bishop reminds us that “dead bodies float downstream. Only live bodies resist the current.”

This is the dilemma faced by St Peter in the gospel. To choose safety over risking losing everything. To either flee from the cross or embrace it. Peter chose safety over risk, flight over fight, and he will repeat this mistake at the very end of the gospel story when his Master gets arrested. What made his cowardice more pronounced in today’s passage is that he is trying to convince the Lord to do the same.

Just last week, Peter identified Jesus as the Christ, the Son of God; and the Lord announced that God had revealed this truth to him. On that basis, our Lord called Peter a “rock”, and promised to use him as a foundation to build His Church. Jesus even conferred the keys of the kingdom, a symbol of His authority on Peter. But this week, the mood changes. Peter’s rock melts and becomes jelly. What happened? Our Lord predicts and discloses to His disciples that He must suffer greatly, be rejected by the religious authorities, and be killed before rising from the dead. There is no glory without the cross. It’s confounding and downright frightening.

Peter then takes our Lord aside and tries to remonstrate with Him. We would imagine that Peter is being respectful and does not wish to challenge the Lord in front of the others. But the phrase “taking Him aside” has a more profound nuance. The phrase is more accurately translated “took possession,” as in the case of a demoniac possession, taking control of a person’s will and rendering him powerless. This is the action of the diabolical. This is what Satan attempted to do at the beginning of the gospel when he took our Lord aside and tempted Him with various paths that will lead our Lord away from His mission and the Cross. Peter now stands in the place of Satan and does the same. Peter is an obstacle to our Lord’s mission and tries to convince Him to abandon the means by which our Lord will achieve His mission by proposing a safer way, one which requires little sacrifice, one which has nothing to do with the cross.

But our Lord clarifies, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.” It’s the cross which will define the disciple, not just the ability to do good deeds or spout correct doctrinal statements about Christ or God.

This is the lesson the apostles and all followers of Jesus would have to learn. When we cling tightly to life and comfort in this world, when we prioritise safety over salvation, we risk losing out on the real life God desires to give us. Peter, out of misguided love, proposed exactly that. Jesus had to correct him, out of true love, and call him back to allegiance to God’s way. As the apostles would soon learn, the path to glory, for Jesus and for us, must pass through Calvary, it cannot avoid the Cross. To avoid the cross would be to stand in the way of Jesus. Our place as His disciples, is to follow Him from behind, not stand in His way. And the crosses that we carry are not proof of God’s absence or powerlessness, but where God’s power can be found.

Real Christians embrace the cross. They don’t flee from it, give excuses for it, or find softer substitutes for it. Renouncing oneself and taking up one’s cross is more than giving up something. It’s not like your little Friday or Lenten sacrifice where you deny yourself chocolate or alcohol or sugar or coffee – basically anything that makes life pleasurable. Denying yourself isn’t an invitation to a private spirituality. It isn’t a form of spiritual masochism. No. It’s a call to live in God’s way, even at the cost of death. As our Holy Father, Pope Francis, reminds us, “There is no negotiating with the cross: one either embraces it or rejects it.”

Being a Christian is hard, but it has its rewards. In fact, the reward for being aligned to God’s ways instead of man’s ways, is far more precious and valuable than anything we can hope to possess and achieve in this life. When our Lord gives us a promise, better believe in it, especially when the going gets tough, when you feel all alone and alienated in your struggle to be faithful, when you are hit on all sides by those who will try to convince you that you are wrong. And this is what He promises, “For the Son of Man is going to come in the glory of his Father with his angels, and, when he does, he will reward each one according to his behaviour.”

Between a Key and a Rock

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

A senior priest once told me that one of the most visible symbols of a parish priest’s authority and power is the number of keys which he possesses. One key to lock and unlock every door on the premises. Interestingly, I inherited a big set of keys when I came to Jesus Caritas. Some, I have absolutely no idea which door it opens. If keys make me an important person, the same could be said about St Peter. St Peter is often depicted as holding a single key or a pair of keys. One key (the gold one) symbolises his spiritual authority and the other, his temporal authority.

It should be noted that when Christ turned to St Peter and said, “I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven”, He was not speaking in a vacuum. At the start of the Bible, Man is placed in a garden and given the task of guarding it. But Adam was guilty of dereliction of duty. Caught off guard, he allowed the serpent to enter the garden and deceive his wife. In failing to guard the garden a chain reaction was triggered, resulting in the Fall. Man had been entrusted as the guardian and steward of Eden. By failing in his stewardship, the keys to the garden were taken from him and given to the angels. It was now the angels’ duty to lock the garden to intruders, as they brandish a sword of fire at the doorway of Eden. And it was they who were given the privilege of delivering the Law, a role originally reserved for Man. So, here in the gospel, our Lord returns the keys to St Peter, the very keys which Adam lost.

There is another reference to keys and it is found in Chapter 22 of the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, which we just heard in the first reading. Here, it involves the story of Eliakim, who prefigures Peter, just as King David is a type of Christ. The previous steward, Shebna, just like Adam, had been removed from office for dereliction of duty. He is now to be replaced by the faithful Eliakim. The reading then provides us with a job description of the position of steward. His function was namely this: to reside “over the house” of the king (that is why he is known in Hebrew as “al-bayit”, which literally means the one in charge of the house/palace), ruling in the place of the king when the latter was absent. This sacred stewardship allowed the vicar of Judah’s king to open what others had shut and to close what had been opened. Additionally, the position of steward was an established royal office; it was to have successors.

This background is critical if we are to understand the role of St Peter. The gospel cannot be read in a vacuum. Neither can we understand the role of Peter without grasping the role of the chief steward and his keys. But the point of the story is not the keys, but Peter himself.

The naming of St Peter is a crucial part of this story. Peter’s original birth name is Simon, but our Lord gives him a new name (Peter in Greek or Cephas in Aramaic). The fact that he had his name changed by Christ is significant. A select number of individuals in the scriptures had their names changed by God, including Abraham and Jacob. These were individuals who were set apart for significant roles in redemptive history. Not only was the naming noteworthy, but the name itself was remarkable. Peter was given a name signifying an attribute almost exclusively attributed to God. “The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation. He is my stronghold, my refuge and my Saviour (2 Samuel 22:2-3). Peter was the first human person in scriptures to bear the name. And the name itself points us to a deeper meaning of Peter’s role. It is upon “this rock” that Christ will build His Church.

In the New Testament, we see the primacy of St Peter depicted in a number of passages. In Luke chapter 12, Christ tells a parable about a group of faithful servants. At the conclusion of the story it is Peter who asks the question of whether this parable is intended for the Apostles. Christ then states, “Who then is that faithful and wise steward, whom his master will make ruler over his household...” Peter is the “faithful and wise steward” made ruler of Christ’s household, the Church. In the gospel of St John, during the Last Supper the disciples argued over who was the greatest amongst them. Christ redefines greatness as measured through serving. He then calls on Peter to serve his brethren by strengthening them. Christ is expecting Peter to hold things together after His departure. And finally, in Acts of the Apostles, we see Peter’s role at the Council of Jerusalem. As the discussion wore on between the two rival camps, the debate became increasingly heated. The entire ruckus came to an abrupt end when Peter rose and rendered his decision. Peter put all the parties to silence when he judiciously administered the keys, making a binding, doctrinal declaration. The storm had come, the winds had blown, but the Church remained safely moored to the chair of Peter.

At the end of the Sermon on the Mount, Christ makes the statement that the wise man will build his house on the rock. There are multiple interpretations to the text. One application is that Christ is the Wise Man as He builds His house (the Church) on the rock, Peter. Remember, it is Christ that is doing the building when He states in the same gospel, “I will build My Church”. Building His Church on Peter does not contradict having the Church built on God (the ultimate Rock), on Christ, His Word, the Apostles or even Peter’s confession. Peter’s office, teaching, authority and confession are based in Christ and therefore have the authority of Christ. To knowingly reject Peter, is to reject Christ.

When conflicts arise from within or from without, many have often speculated that this would be the end of the Church. But as Catholics, to even consider this thought would be to doubt the promise of Christ to Peter. Rather, we should be confident that the Church, built by Christ on the rock, will weather the storm. The house that falls apart or slips from its foundation proves that it was a poorly built house, of poor workmanship and therefore never built by the Divine Carpenter. Such edifices are man-made. But the Church, built by Christ on the rock of St Peter and his successors, protected by the keys of the kingdom, is one that will last the test of time and will weather the inevitable storms “and the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it.”

Racism is a Sin

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The easiest way to disarm your sparring partner in any intellectual argument would be to rain down ad-hominem labels on him. Call him a racist, a chauvinist, a fascist, a homophobe, and you can unilaterally declare yourself the victor. Such labels do not attempt to get to the bottom of the truth, but merely seeks to delegitimise and invalidate your opponent’s arguments. The frightening trend is that many frequently use this method to silence other opinions and viewpoints. Recently in America, Jesus has fallen victim to this form of stigmatisation.  He has been accused of being “too white,” which is strange, since Jesus is actually a “brown” Jew.

Let’s be fair, reading today’s gospel through modern revisionist lenses could give the impression that Jesus is indeed a bigot, and only got “woke” because of this Canaanite woman. A modern interpretation would sound like this – Before His awakening, Jesus is wrestling with His own prejudices and a blinkered view of His mission. He was a racist and a chauvinist as evidenced by Him ignoring this woman from the outset and later uttering a racial slur. So, it takes a foreign woman to challenge the Son of David to shake off His prejudices and expand His sense of His mission to include her and her child. She saved the Saviour of the world by opening up His mind and taught Him a lesson or two about being inclusive and tolerant. Thank God for this woman.

Does this interpretation sound reasonable? It would be if the characters were indeed following some modern identity politics playbook. But this kind of interpretation is dangerous as it would be reading our own modern prejudices into the text. Could the Son of God really have been prejudiced? Did He need someone to change His mind or teach Him a lesson about His own mission? If we answer “yes” to these questions, we are effectively denying that Jesus was the sinless One, God-Incarnate, because any type of biasness and prejudice would be sinful. But we are told that He was like us in all things but sin (Hebrews 4:15). Although the Divine Word became flesh, He never ceased to be the eternal second person of the Holy Trinity. He never ceased to be perfect. Therefore, He did not need to learn how to be less racist from a Canaanite woman. There is no need for Him to alter His moral orientation because He is the foundation of all moral truths. 

So then, what exactly is the right way to read this passage? Instead of reading this text as an occasion where the Canaanite Woman schooled Jesus in how to become more inclusive and tolerant, it was our Lord who was teaching this woman and His disciples several important truths. Notice that it was the disciples who wanted to send her away; if anyone in the narrative has not yet understood Jesus’ wider vision for the inclusion of the Gentiles, it is the disciples, not Jesus.

First, there is a lesson of humility. Most of us are more concerned about defending our personal dignity, raising our defences, going on the offensive, than listening to the perspective of another. But here we witness the motherly love of this woman. She was prepared to humiliate herself, throw herself at the feet of our Lord, and be subjected to seemingly hurtful speech for the sake of her daughter. Her love for her daughter and her faith in our Lord’s ability to provide the solution overcame her need to defend her own pride and dignity. In this manner, she puts the disciples to shame. This woman epitomises the ideals of Christian discipleship – she is not ambitious for positions of power and honour, but is willing to place herself in a position of the lowliest servant, a servant who listens patiently and obediently to the Master’s bidding.

Second, there is a lesson of perseverance. The Canaanite woman was not daunted by our Lord’s initial silence and indifference. She did not fear being regarded as a nuisance. Just like the other parables in Luke’s gospel on the virtue of persevering in prayer (the widow and the wicked judge, seeking a neighbour’s help in the middle of the night), the story of the Canaanite woman is another demonstration of the power of perseverance. Faith is not just a one-off experience but grows in momentum and strength when fueled with determination and resilience.

Finally, there is the lesson of the priority of salvation over all other claims. The woman had come to our Lord asking Him to heal her daughter. But He gave her more than she bargained for. In exchange for her faith, He gave her the gift of salvation. The disciples, like the rest of the Jews believed that the Messiah’s mission is confined only to Jews. But here, our Lord reveals to all of them that He has come to seek out and save the lost. He had been sent by the Father for the salvation of souls. As we profess in the Creed, “For us and for our salvation, He came down from heaven.”

But this begs the question: How can we reconcile this with what our Lord says in this passage, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel”? If you read the entire gospel of St Matthew, you would come to recognise that He makes this important distinction between the false Israel and the true Israel.  Membership in the True Israel did not come from lineage or the purity of one’s bloodline, nor did it even come from rigorous and scrupulous observances of the Law. Ultimately, the most important criterion for membership in the True Israel, according to the Gospel of St Matthew, is that the person, the disciple, listens to, adheres and finally does whatever he has learnt from Jesus, and in observing all that has been taught by Jesus, does the will of the Father perfectly. So rather than being excluded by Jesus’ professed mission to the lost sheep of Israel, the Canaanite woman is revealed to be a member of the true Israel because of her faith.

Jesus recognises the woman’s wisdom, insight and faith; this is the only time that faith is described as ‘great’—something of a contrast to the ‘little faith’ of Peter when he gets out of the boat! At the end of the day, it is not racial identity, or one’s political beliefs or sexual orientation which can unite us, what more save us. It is faith. In fact, all this talk about “diversity” is actually a cover for division. At the end of the day, it is faith which unites us and saves us and helps us move beyond all these divisive categories. When St. Paul said that “in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek” (Gal. 3:28), he was talking about how Christ brings unity based on religion, not race. Our Lord does not destroy our cultural and racial identity but redeems it and brings it to alignment with God’s will and purpose for all humanity.

Yes, we are bad at talking about race, in part, because we do not trust each other. Such a lack of trust is a barrier to honesty. And it is hard to have meaningful conversations without that. But our Lord teaches us that we must engage in such conversations, difficult as it may be. This is what evangelisation is all about. Evangelisation is having conversations with those who hold values which are at odds with the gospel. We do so by being both truthful and respectful. Such conversations can never take place without humility and perseverance. Humility is necessary for listening with an open heart rather than being on the defensive or offensive. Perseverance is also necessary because the path to conversion is never quick nor easy. But finally, the solution to racism is not just a human one. The solution to racism is just like a solution to every other problem which arises from sin. The solution is repentance and faith. Here alone is hope for racial reconciliation.

The Corona of Hope

Solemnity of the Assumption

I can safely say that there are very few persons alive today who would not have heard of the corona virus. The name is derived from the Latin word “corona” which means a “crown” or a “wreath” (which the Greek kings wore as crowns). Apart from being an apt description of the shape of the virus, the virus should actually be “crowned” as king of all viruses since it has brought down this pandemic upon an entire world, halted global thriving economies, shut down borders, locked-down social-economic life, closed schools, universities, and places of worship. It does seem that nothing can stand in its way and the destruction it has wreaked in its passage can only be described as apocalyptic.

As the world waits for a cure or vaccine, Christians need not have to place their hope exclusively on a shaky medical solution. We already have a firm and certain foundation for hoping. It is to be found in the sign which is given to us in the first reading taken from the Book of the Apocalypse and fulfilled in the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. Here we see a different “corona”, one which emboldens rather than frightens, one which inspires rather than infects. The sign depicted in Chapter 12 of the Book of Apocalypse is that of a “woman adorned with the sun, standing on the moon, and with the twelve stars on her head for a crown.” Yes, this woman is wearing a “corona”, a crown. If it takes one “corona” to wreak havoc and terror on the world, it takes another corona-wearing woman to give us hope by announcing the victory of light over darkness, life over death.

If the Wuhan coronavirus and other virulent diseases remind us of our human fragility and mortality, the woman “adorned with sun … and with the twelve stars on her head for a crown” gives us reason to hope against all odds. This is what the author of the book of Apocalypse wishes us to see. It is a vision of a confrontation between two unequal sparring parties. In one corner, we have the woman – a symbol of powerlessness and weakness. Her vulnerable position is compounded by the fact that she is in labour. On the other side, we have the picture of the fearsome dragon towering over the woman. It appears that nothing can withstand the power of the dragon. But just when the reader expects the woman to end up as a happy meal for the dragon, God intervenes and the final outcome changes. God saves the woman and allows her to bring a child into this world, and it turns out that this child will be the real ruler of the universe and not the dragon. At the moment when all appeared to be lost, at the moment of certain defeat, God ensures victory for those who are weak and afflicted.

Who is this woman? She represents not just one figure but four:  Israel, the Church, Eve, and Mary.

She is Israel because she is associated with the sun, the moon, and the twelve stars. These symbols are drawn from Genesis 37:9–11, in which the patriarch Joseph has a dream of the sun and moon (symbolising his father and mother) and stars (representing his brothers), which bow down to him. Taken together, the sun, moon, and twelve stars symbolise the people of Israel.

The woman is also the Church, the new Israel, because, as 12:17 tells us, “the rest of her offspring”, us Christians, are those who bear witness to Jesus.

But the woman also represents Eve, because she is part of the three-way conflict involving her offspring and the Dragon (now a fully grown serpent) mentioned in Genesis 3:15. But this conflict is merely a sign which prefigures the conflict between Mary, Satan, and Jesus.

Finally, we see why this reading is always chosen as the first reading for this Solemnity. The woman is Mary because she is the mother of Jesus, the child who will rule the nations with a rod of iron (19:11–16). Like Mary, she is pictured as being in heaven and she flies (mirroring Mary’s Assumption).

The event of the Assumption, Mary at the end of her earthly life being assumed into heaven both body and soul, is indeed a proclamation of the good news first proclaimed in Genesis 3:15, that the offspring of the woman will crush the head of the serpent, even though the serpent is allowed the first strike. We see in Mary’s Assumption, the undoing of Eve’s curse, the unravelling of death’s hold on man, and the reopening of Paradise to those barred from entering.  Our Lady’s Assumption is proof that death will not have the last word, evil will not triumph and Christ’s victory over sin and death is certain.

This coronavirus has infected close to 20 million persons worldwide. It is responsible for more than three quarters of a million deaths and the number is still rapidly growing unabated. Economists are already predicting a global economic depression which would result in massive unemployment and social woes. The worst is yet to come. In the face of such a powerful and uncontrollable force, is there any hope that we will get through this alive or even unscathed?

Well, back in the year 1950, when Pope Pius XII defined this dogma, it felt very much the same. The world was in shambles, millions had died in the two great world wars, the survivors could barely scrape a living. Instead of giving in to all the gloom and doom, Pius XII discerned that it was time to hold forth the image of Our Lady’s Assumption as a beacon of hope to a world draped in the darkness of despair. In our Lady’s Assumption, the Church invites us to raise our eyes and through our imagination, try to behold the splendour of this wondrous event of our Blessed Mother being assumed body and soul into heaven into the welcoming arms of the Holy Trinity. In this event, the Church announces the victory of grace over sin, good over evil, life over death. Through Mary’s Assumption we are given a glimpse of our future glory, our final home, the holy beatitude of heaven, where the righteous are freed of every coronavirus or ailment, and are given imperishable crowns (or coronas) of glory.

Mother of Divine Graces

Sermon for Day 5 of Novena (Assumption Church Parish Feast)

Some of you may have visited the quaint little town of San Giovanni Rotondo, a town that is synonymous with its most illustrious inhabitant, St Pio of Pietrelcina, or popularly known as Padre Pio. The incorruptible body of this holy Capuchin saint and the miracles associated with his cult draws thousands of devotees to this little hamlet located near the Western Coast of Italy. But St Pio is not the only attraction in town. In fact, the Church where St Pio had celebrated Masses, heard confessions, performed miracles is dedicated to Our Lady, the Madonna delle Grazie, our Lady of Graces. The Madonna is not only the principle patron of this church but also the entire town. It is little wonder that St Pio had a profound devotion to this holy image of the Lady of Graces, which was his favourite painting. He would spend hours praying the rosary and meditating before this holy image. He would tell everyone he met, “Love the Blessed Virgin and help others to love her.”

What is interesting about this image of Our Lady of Graces in San Giovanni Rotondo is that it is a Virgin Lactans, a nursing or breastfeeding Madonna, a popular depiction of our Lady until the late Middle Ages. Just like other images of the Madonna, the picture is a composite of the mother and the child. It would be incomplete if one or the other was missing. Apart from the crucifix, nothing ranks higher than the image of the Blessed Mother and her Holy Infant in Catholic iconography. But what is unique about the image of the Virgin Lactans is that the Madonna is depicted as nursing the Baby Jesus with her milk. Here, in the image of the Madonna delle Grazie, the Holy Infant is trying to give us, also children of His Mother in the order of grace, His Mother’s milk.  He is inviting us to “drink.”  Mary spiritually takes all humanity to her breast, to nourish them with the spiritual milk of supernatural grace.

What is the significance of the mother’s milk? Milk was seen as “processed blood”, and the milk of the Virgin to some extent paralleled the role of the Blood of Christ. Similarly, the breasts of Mary were seen to be a parallel to our Lord’s Five Holy Wounds, both were physical testimonies of their passions and also evidence of God’s super abundant grace. But here, the image is intended to point us, the children of Mary to three significant events in the life of Mary and Jesus, which helps us to see why she is deserving of the title, “Mother of Divine Graces.”

The first event is the Incarnation. The image of a nursing mother, or as the Eastern Christians call her the “Nourisher of Life”, is the most poignant image of the deep maternal and biological bond between mother and child, which has no equivalence. The depiction of an exposed breast is certainly not meant to be sensual. Here, in this revered icon, it serves only to highlight and proclaim the truth about the Incarnation. The Divine Word became flesh, God became man through a mortal woman. Jesus is not just a demigod or an avatar or vessel of the divine. Jesus who is fully God, is also fully man. Mary is proof of it. The Virgin Mary who nurses her son Jesus is one of the most eloquent signs that the word of God truly and undoubtedly became flesh. With her free and active cooperation in the Incarnation and at the Annunciation, Mary mediates to us Jesus Christ, who is himself the Source and the Author of all sanctifying grace.

The second event where we see our Lady in her role as co-dispenser of graces is at the crucifixion. On Calvary, Mary is given as the spiritual mother to all “beloved disciples,” represented by John, and to all humanity. The Blessed Virgin co-operates with Christ in humanity’s spiritual rebirth. The Church, the Body of Christ, is born at the cross and it is only fitting that the Mother of our Lord is present. As she gave birth to His mortal body, she now cooperates with Him to give birth to His mystical body in the order of grace.

The final event is at the Final Judgment. Though scripture is silent on our Lady’s role, tradition has accorded to her an important role as intercessor. In the iconostasis (screen of icons) of Eastern Churches, an icon of our Lady has a special place on the right side of the Royal Door – She is depicted as the Holy Intercessor, pleading with her Divine Son on our behalf. A similar image is found in Western iconography. It is common in medieval paintings to depict the Glorified Christ, exposing His Holy Wounds, as Judge of the world. At His feet would be His mother. Here Mary bares her breast in a traditional gesture of female supplication to Christ when asking for mercy for sinners. There seems to be a poetic correspondence between these two figures. Our Lord bares His wounds which forms the basis of the world’s redemption and judgment; Mary, bares her wounds, her breast, in interceding for the world and begging for her son’s mercy. It is as if she is pleading with Him, “I was the one who gave birth to you, nursed you at my breast and nurtured you with my own milk.  Will you not look with pity and mercy upon these other children of mine?”

Closely related to her title of Mother or Lady of Graces, is the title which has been accorded to her by the Doctors of the Church, Saints and even popes, although it is a title that has never been dogmatically defined: Mediatrix of All Graces.  Mediatrix is the feminine form of mediator. St. Thomas Aquinas explained that a mediator is someone who is in the middle between two parties, and being both similar to and different from each side, the mediator unites the two sides. There is no issue with accepting Christ as the perfect and unique Mediator between God and man because Jesus is both God and man. But what about Mary and is her title “mediatrix” justifiable? Most objectors to this title, “Mediatrix of All Graces”, would quote St Paul in 1 Timothy 2:5, “For there is one God.  There is also one mediator between God and the human race, Christ Jesus.” The emphasis on the singularity of Christ seems to mean that no one other than Jesus is a mediator. Therefore, how can Mary be a mediatrix?

As a general rule, we should read any Scripture verse within its context. In the case of 1 Timothy 2:5, it comes right after verses 1-4, which contain St. Paul’s exhortation to pray for everyone. Thus, St. Paul presented prayer for others as a type of mediation between God and man and urged Christians to do this. He is implying that there is more than one type of mediation. For this reason, St. Thomas Aquinas carefully distinguished between Christ’s mediation which is unique, perfect, principal, independent, and sufficient mediation; and everyone else’s mediation which is imperfect, insufficient, subordinate to Christ’s, and dependent on Christ’s mediation. As part of Christ’s Body, we mediate in Christ, through Christ, and with Christ, to prepare others to believe in Christ and also to distribute to them the grace that ultimately comes from Christ.

Now, how is Our Lady a mediatrix? Sinless from the moment of her own conception in her mother’s womb, Mary has always been in a unique middle position between God and sinful human creatures. As the Mother of Jesus, Mary is a unique mediatrix of Jesus, who is the source of all graces. Thus, in at least an indirect way, the Blessed Virgin is the Mediatrix of All Graces. However, Mary’s mediation is in an entirely different category than Christ’s, because her creaturely mediation has always been imperfect and insufficient in the sense that she has never done any of this only by herself. She depends on God for everything. God, not Mary, is the true source of grace. Therefore, it is God Himself who made Our Lady to be a universal mediatrix. As St. Bernard taught, “It is God’s will that we receive everything through Mary.”

Notice the divine consistency in Mary’s role in the order of grace as designated by God’s will. First of all, Mary is conceived in sanctifying grace from the first instance of her existence by a unique act of God’s will.  Then, Mary gives birth to the source of all graces in Jesus Christ. With this birth of the Head of Grace, she also gives spiritual birth to the Body mystically united with the Head, the Church. This linkage is sealed by our Lord on the cross, as He gives His mother to the beloved disciple, the representative of the Church.  Furthermore, she participates with her Son in meriting the grace that redeems the world on Calvary. Just as Eve participated in Adam’s sin which led to the Fall, Mary, the new Eve, participates in the new Adam’s act of redemption. Finally, from Heaven, Mary distributes the graces of the Redemption to grant to each open heart of the human family the saving supernatural life of Our Lord. As Vatican II ascribes to her, Mary is truly “a Mother to us in the order of grace.”

As we come before our Lady and honour her as Mother of Divine Graces, let us remember that Mary’s mediation does not conflict with Christ’s mediation but is the highest form of sub-mediation under Christ. She is the Mother of Divine Graces because she is the mother of the fount of divine graces, our Lord Jesus Christ Himself. She is the aqueduct that channels the infinite grace and merits of Christ to the whole world, a world in need of sanctification and redemption.

Let us conclude by praying this prayer of St Pio to the Madonna of Graces:

“O Mary as Our Lady of Graces, merciful dispenser of divine graces, Mary most Holy, Mother of the Eternal Incarnate Word who has crowned you with His immense wisdom, look upon the greatness of my sorrow and grant me the grace I need so much. Hail Mary…”

"Courage! It is I"

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

At some point or another, we all encounter things in life that cause us to be afraid. Whether it’s a sudden unemployment, making a life-altering choice, or a sudden illness, fear is a fact of life. But this current global pandemic has raised our fears to new heights: we read with alarm the uptick of new cases, the ominous warnings of further lockdowns and the economy crashing, we live with the constant anxiety of getting infected or infecting someone else. There’s panic in the air and anxiety in our bones. Staying indoors, hibernating for the rest of the year until we find a cure or vaccine, and getting ourselves tested do not seem to be viable options.

Although fear is a natural, healthy response to danger, how can we resist giving in to panic or allow fear to overwhelm us to the point of paralysis? The answer begins with an old-fashioned word that seems remarkably relevant today: courage. This is what the Lord says to His disciples as they cry out in fear, mistaking Him for a ghost, “Courage! It is I! Do not be afraid.”

The traditional name we Catholics use to speak of courage is “fortitude.” The Catechism of the Catholic Church (#1808) teaches that “Fortitude is the moral virtue that ensures firmness in difficulties and constancy in the pursuit of the good. It strengthens the resolve to resist temptations and to overcome obstacles in the moral life. The virtue of fortitude enables one to conquer fear, even fear of death, and to face trials and persecutions. It disposes one even to renounce and sacrifice his life in defence of a just cause.”

One of the greatest myths about courage or fortitude is that it means not feeling afraid. If ‘I were brave and courageous, I wouldn’t feel anxious, panicked or worried,’ we might think.  But fortitude isn’t the absence of fear. It’s the willingness to be present and respond in spite of fear.

It means we have the capacity to see clearly and act prudently during a crisis. It means we have enough wisdom so that we don’t freak out when things go haywire—or, perhaps even more importantly, so that we don’t shut off in denial and pretend everything is okay.

Fortitude or courage, however, is not a licence to be stupid or to act recklessly. For example, in the current pandemic, although there is still a polarising debate about the efficacy of wearing masks and observing social distancing, blatantly choosing to defy public health advisories, is no proof of your faith or even courage. It may actually be evidence of stupidity, pride and stubbornness.

The cardinal human virtue of fortitude flows naturally from the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. When we believe the promises of God (faith), and have confidence not in ourselves but in the strength of Christ (hope), and we are motivated by love (charity), we will find ourselves filled naturally with the virtue of fortitude. This is what we see in St Peter’s initial response when he requested our Lord to grant him the ability to walk on water. But notice what happens when he is no longer anchored in faith to the Lord, when he gives in to despair, that is, he senses that the problem which he is facing is too big even for the Lord to resolve. Peter begins to sink. Like St Peter, cut off from the Lord, we too will sink.

I do not know about the rest of you, but these days I often feel as if we are in the same boat with the disciples and Peter. It seems as if we are in a middle of a storm, there is so much uncertainty, there is so much turbulence. Life seems to be spinning out of control and so many of us are worried about the future, our personal safety and that of our loved ones. It doesn’t help when our country is also in the middle of a political maelstrom. It practically feels like we are in the middle of chaos. Like the disciples, we find ourselves on very unstable grounds, filled with so much worry and uncertainty. Just like Peter, we experience good days and bad days: one moment we are confident and comfortable, and the next moment, we seem to lose our footing and feel like we are slipping and sinking into the deep.

But even in the midst of so much uncertainty and confusion, there is hope. Our Lord assures us, “Courage! It is I! Do not be afraid!” As our world seems upended with one crisis followed by another, and we hear a cacophony of voices providing us with ominous predictions of the future, filling us with uncertainty and confusion, there is only one voice which matters. It is our Lord’s, “Courage! It is I! Do not be afraid!”  Trust Him when He says this. Our Lord is there to catch us and raise us up when we fall. He is our hope. He is our salvation. He is the calm in the storm.

Yes, to have courage or fortitude does not mean that we will not experience fear. Yes, at one time or another we will be afraid of sinking, we will be afraid of failing, we will be afraid of dying. But we have courage because we know with certainty that Jesus is there to catch us when we fall, to forgive us when we fail, and He has conquered death by His own death and resurrection. With Him, we can face every storm with faith, with hope, with charity, and with fortitude. “The Lord is my strength and my shield. I trust Him with all my heart.” (Psalm 28:7)