Solemnity of Mary Mother of God
You know what they say about the Chinese … OK, its not just the straight hair … we are unrepentant story tellers. Here’s an old story that comes from my tradition. Some of you may be familiar with this.
A father and his son were poor farmers. The only prized possession they had apart from the small piece of farm land which they tilled was an old horse. One day the horse ran away.
“How terrible, what bad luck, Mr Lim” said the neighbours.
“Good luck, bad luck, who knows?” replied the wise old farmer.
Several weeks later the horse returned, bringing with him four wild mares.
“What marvellous luck, Mr Lim” said the neighbours.
“Good luck, bad luck, who knows?” replied the old man.
The son began to tame and train the wild horses, but one day he was thrown and broke his leg.
“Oh dear! What bad luck,” said the neighbours.
“Good luck, bad luck, who knows?” replied the farmer.
The next week the army came to the village and conscripted all the able bodied young men in the village. The farmer’s son was still disabled with his broken leg, so he was spared. “So … Good luck, bad luck, who knows?”
So what’s in store for this coming New Year? Good luck or bad luck? As we stand at the threshold of a new year, it is natural that many would attempt to divine their fortune for the following year. We would certainly like to ward off the misfortune that we had experienced in the past three years and pray for a real break in fortune for the next. You don’t have to grab an almanac or get the latest feng shui book for 2023 in order to get your annual predictions. Today’s liturgy and readings provide us with all the projections that is necessary.
On the first day of the New Year, the Church celebrates the Solemnity of Mary Mother of God. But this feast isn’t really about Mary. It’s about Jesus. By celebrating this feast of Mary and affirming that she is the Mother of God, we are also affirming that Jesus is God. Mary is not only the mother of Jesus, she is also the mother of God. Jesus is God. The baby that was born on Christmas Day, the baby whom some call the Son of Mary, we acknowledge as the true Son of God.
We may be wondering as to what significance this knowledge brings to us. The answer lies in the second reading. St. Paul writes: “When the appointed time came, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born a subject of the Law, to redeem the subjects of the Law and to enable us to be adopted as sons.” That’s it. God’s Son became man so that we can become sons and daughters of God. Our salvation did not only take place on the cross. Our salvation begins with Christmas – when God became man. The divine commerce is the best bargain we can ever attain - in exchange for taking our humanity, God shared with us His divinity. Today’s feast of Mary, Mother of God, confirms this central faith of Christians everywhere … our Saviour is not just some great human personage, political maverick, or enlightened soul, our Saviour is God. Christmas is the feast where we celebrate and proclaim our faith that this immortal Deity took on the flesh and mortality of a human person in order that all humanity may assume the divinity of His nature. Son of God became man in order that men may become sons of God.
Thus, if we were to wonder whether the following year will be filled with blessings or curses, we already have the answer. This is our greatest blessing – being called children of God. We often pray that God will bless us with good luck, or riches, or good health, or good results at our exams, or filial and successful children, or a good bonus or win fall, or success. We often forget that His greatest blessing isn’t any one of these things. God’s greatest blessing isn’t found in good luck or riches or in success. His greatest blessing comes in the form of our adoption as His children. We can call him “Abba Father” and He calls us His sons and daughters. This is our most precious blessing.
Mary understood the meaning of this truth – that our greatest blessing lay not in fortunes, good luck, and perfect conditions but in our new relationship with God. Today, in the gospel we read of how “Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.” What were some of the things she treasured? Instead of having rich and powerful visitors, she was contented with the visit of poor and humble shepherds. The shepherds were not rich or powerful but their presence was far greater than the presence of any king or rich man because the shepherds could recognise the blessing of God in the baby Jesus, while others couldn’t. Any mother could have wished that they could have delivered their baby in a clean hospital or a comfortable house, but Mary was contented with the stable and the animals who shared their home with the holy family. Although rejected by men, the animals welcomed the Son of God.
How was Mary able to recognise these blessings in the midst of what appears to be misfortune? Mary provides us with the example of prayerful reflexion. Prayerful reflexion allows us to walk by faith and not by sight. Prayerful reflexion allows our vision to penetrate the darkness of misfortune in order for us to behold the face of God who continues to shine on us in both good times and bad. When we are unable to savour silent prayer, meditation and contemplation, we will find ourselves impoverished. When we recognise God’s greatest gift and blessing in the person of Jesus who made us sons and daughters of God, then we will be contented with whatever we have. If we are sons and daughters of God, then we are also His heirs. What is the inheritance that we will receive? Our inheritance is Eternal Life, in that which is imperishable and not in the worldly possessions that are perishable. We don’t have to wait till after death to claim it in heaven. This inheritance is already ours – Now! We are children of God, that is a treasure in itself – and we have no need for any other.
So, what’s my prediction for this year? Would it be a good year or a bad year? Let me tell you without any doubt – it’s going to be a splendid year, a great year, a marvelous year – a year of blessings. A year where we can continue to be assured of our inheritance that has been won for us in Christ.
And so, as we rejoice with Mary over the treasure of her son, Jesus, the Son of God, I pray that you will receive God’s choicest blessing, especially the blessing of being called children of God:
“May the Lord bless you and keep you
May the Lord let his face shine on you and be gracious to you.
May the Lord uncover his face to you and bring you peace.”
Wednesday, December 28, 2022
Thursday, December 22, 2022
In the beginning
Christmas Mass During the Day 2022
The great Feast and Solemnity of the Nativity of Christ is the second most important feast in the Church’s Liturgical Calendar after the Great Pasch, the Feast of Easter. Its importance is attested by the liturgy in the three masses celebrated on Christmas Day proper – the Midnight Mass, the Dawn Mass and presently, what we are celebrating now, the Mass during the day. Because the feast of Christmas is so great, the Church does not stop rejoicing after one or even two special Masses. She continues her worship with a third, the Mass of the Day. And so after a marathon of masses, just when you thought you’ve exhausted everything that needs to be said about Christmas, we find ourselves right back at the beginning. Not just to the beginning of the Christmas story that took place two millennia ago in Bethlehem, but to the very beginning, before God embarked on the great enterprise of creation, before the beginning of the history of man and the universe.
“In the beginning…” that’s how the Prologue of St John’s gospel begins. St John does not start the story of Jesus in the usual way as in the case of Ss Matthew and Luke who provide two different versions of His infancy narratives. He says nothing about the way Jesus was born. Rather, he takes us back in time to "the beginning” and his opening line is deliberately chosen because everyone knows that’s how the entire bible and first book of the Bible (Genesis 1:1) begins: “In the beginning.” In Hebrew - be’ resh’ it. If in the book of Genesis, we hear how everything began with God’s creative act, in John’s prologue we will see the One who was behind that act and who is responsible for our salvation.
In the beginning, John says, was "the Word" or ‘logos’ in Greek. To the uninitiated, the "Word" here may seem ambiguous, but it becomes clear in verse 14 that John is talking about a person: "The Word was made flesh, He lived among us." The Word is not just an impersonal concept but a person. The Word became a human being, a Jew by the name of Jesus. But the Word was also at the beginning, the Word was with God and then John makes this audacious claim, “the Word was God!” Jesus Christ, the child born in the humble stable of Bethlehem and laid in a manger is no ordinary child. He is the Divine Creator-Word, He is the Son of God; He is God.
By using the word ‘Word’ or ‘Logos’, St John was using a term that had rich meaning to Greek and Jewish philosophers. They also believed that God had created everything through His word, or His wisdom. Since God was a rational being, He always had a word with Him. The "word" was His power to think — His rationality, His creativity. According to Plato, the world of ideas was more perfect than the material world, which could only provide a poor copy of the former. John takes this idea and gives it a radical twist: The Word became flesh. Something in the realm of the perfect and the eternal became part of the imperfect and decaying world. That was a preposterous idea, people might have said. It is no wonder that John tells us that when the Word came into the world, “the world did not know him. He came to his own domain and his own people did not accept him.”
Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI gives us a beautiful reflexion. He says that this rejection by His own people, “refers first and foremost to Bethlehem, the Son of David comes to his own city, but has to be born in a stable, because there is no room for him at the inn. Then it refers to Israel: the one who is sent comes among his own, but they do not want him. And truly, it refers to all mankind: He through whom the world was made, the primordial Creator-Word, enters into the world, but he is not listened to, he is not received. These words refer ultimately to us, to each individual and to society as a whole. Do we have time for our neighbour who is in need of a word from us, from me, or in need of my affection? Do we have time and space for God? Can he enter into our lives? Does he find room in us, or have we occupied all the available space in our thoughts, our actions our lives for ourselves?” These are questions we must constantly ask ourselves.
Jesus did not just bring a message about God — He Himself was the message. He showed us in the flesh what God is like. We are more than just people of the Book, as Muslims would claim. We are people of the Word of God, the Word who is, who was and will ever be God. We are not just called to be acquainted with the words in our Bible or in the Catechism of the Church. We are called to encounter the Word Himself, Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Saviour – the true light that enlightens all men – a light that shines even in the dark, a light that darkness could not overpower.
Our celebration today is testimony to the immense beauty of encountering the word of God in the communion of the Church. In listening to the word, may we become one with the Word. But it is also the Word that became flesh. So, as Catholics we are called not only to be in communion with God and with each other through the words of scripture but more perfectly through Holy Communion. Christmas is a call to conversion, to be renewed in our “personal and communal encounter with Christ, the word of life made visible, and to become his heralds, so that the gift of divine life – communion – can spread ever more fully throughout the world. Indeed, sharing in the life of God, a Trinity of love, is complete joy (cf. 1 Jn 1:4). And it is the Church’s gift and inescapable duty to communicate that joy, born of an encounter with the person of Christ, the Word of God in our midst. In a world which often feels that God is superfluous or extraneous, we confess with Peter that he alone has “the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68). There is no greater priority than this: to enable the people of our time once more to encounter God, the God who speaks to us and shares his love so that we might have life in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10).” (Verbum Domini, # 2)
The great Feast and Solemnity of the Nativity of Christ is the second most important feast in the Church’s Liturgical Calendar after the Great Pasch, the Feast of Easter. Its importance is attested by the liturgy in the three masses celebrated on Christmas Day proper – the Midnight Mass, the Dawn Mass and presently, what we are celebrating now, the Mass during the day. Because the feast of Christmas is so great, the Church does not stop rejoicing after one or even two special Masses. She continues her worship with a third, the Mass of the Day. And so after a marathon of masses, just when you thought you’ve exhausted everything that needs to be said about Christmas, we find ourselves right back at the beginning. Not just to the beginning of the Christmas story that took place two millennia ago in Bethlehem, but to the very beginning, before God embarked on the great enterprise of creation, before the beginning of the history of man and the universe.
“In the beginning…” that’s how the Prologue of St John’s gospel begins. St John does not start the story of Jesus in the usual way as in the case of Ss Matthew and Luke who provide two different versions of His infancy narratives. He says nothing about the way Jesus was born. Rather, he takes us back in time to "the beginning” and his opening line is deliberately chosen because everyone knows that’s how the entire bible and first book of the Bible (Genesis 1:1) begins: “In the beginning.” In Hebrew - be’ resh’ it. If in the book of Genesis, we hear how everything began with God’s creative act, in John’s prologue we will see the One who was behind that act and who is responsible for our salvation.
In the beginning, John says, was "the Word" or ‘logos’ in Greek. To the uninitiated, the "Word" here may seem ambiguous, but it becomes clear in verse 14 that John is talking about a person: "The Word was made flesh, He lived among us." The Word is not just an impersonal concept but a person. The Word became a human being, a Jew by the name of Jesus. But the Word was also at the beginning, the Word was with God and then John makes this audacious claim, “the Word was God!” Jesus Christ, the child born in the humble stable of Bethlehem and laid in a manger is no ordinary child. He is the Divine Creator-Word, He is the Son of God; He is God.
By using the word ‘Word’ or ‘Logos’, St John was using a term that had rich meaning to Greek and Jewish philosophers. They also believed that God had created everything through His word, or His wisdom. Since God was a rational being, He always had a word with Him. The "word" was His power to think — His rationality, His creativity. According to Plato, the world of ideas was more perfect than the material world, which could only provide a poor copy of the former. John takes this idea and gives it a radical twist: The Word became flesh. Something in the realm of the perfect and the eternal became part of the imperfect and decaying world. That was a preposterous idea, people might have said. It is no wonder that John tells us that when the Word came into the world, “the world did not know him. He came to his own domain and his own people did not accept him.”
Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI gives us a beautiful reflexion. He says that this rejection by His own people, “refers first and foremost to Bethlehem, the Son of David comes to his own city, but has to be born in a stable, because there is no room for him at the inn. Then it refers to Israel: the one who is sent comes among his own, but they do not want him. And truly, it refers to all mankind: He through whom the world was made, the primordial Creator-Word, enters into the world, but he is not listened to, he is not received. These words refer ultimately to us, to each individual and to society as a whole. Do we have time for our neighbour who is in need of a word from us, from me, or in need of my affection? Do we have time and space for God? Can he enter into our lives? Does he find room in us, or have we occupied all the available space in our thoughts, our actions our lives for ourselves?” These are questions we must constantly ask ourselves.
Jesus did not just bring a message about God — He Himself was the message. He showed us in the flesh what God is like. We are more than just people of the Book, as Muslims would claim. We are people of the Word of God, the Word who is, who was and will ever be God. We are not just called to be acquainted with the words in our Bible or in the Catechism of the Church. We are called to encounter the Word Himself, Jesus Christ, Our Lord and Saviour – the true light that enlightens all men – a light that shines even in the dark, a light that darkness could not overpower.
Our celebration today is testimony to the immense beauty of encountering the word of God in the communion of the Church. In listening to the word, may we become one with the Word. But it is also the Word that became flesh. So, as Catholics we are called not only to be in communion with God and with each other through the words of scripture but more perfectly through Holy Communion. Christmas is a call to conversion, to be renewed in our “personal and communal encounter with Christ, the word of life made visible, and to become his heralds, so that the gift of divine life – communion – can spread ever more fully throughout the world. Indeed, sharing in the life of God, a Trinity of love, is complete joy (cf. 1 Jn 1:4). And it is the Church’s gift and inescapable duty to communicate that joy, born of an encounter with the person of Christ, the Word of God in our midst. In a world which often feels that God is superfluous or extraneous, we confess with Peter that he alone has “the words of eternal life” (Jn 6:68). There is no greater priority than this: to enable the people of our time once more to encounter God, the God who speaks to us and shares his love so that we might have life in abundance (cf. Jn 10:10).” (Verbum Domini, # 2)
Incarnate Humility
Christmas Mass During the Night 2022
One of the most impactful experiences I had as a newly ordained priest was when I had the privilege of ministering to a group of Vietnamese textile workers in Nilai. They emerged at one Christmas gathering organised by the parish for migrants and asked me if I could celebrate Mass for their community at their “hotel” (of course, they meant “hostel”). When I asked them if they had space in their “hotel” large enough to host a Mass, they excitedly told me that they had a hall. I asked them how many persons the hall can accommodate and they said 50. When I asked them how many Catholics were living there, they told me “300!”
I was having trouble doing the maths, so, I asked them how a hall meant for 50 persons could accommodate 300. Their answer simply floored me: “we will take turns.” In a world where so many feel entitled and are constantly complaining about how their demands are not being met, a world where everyone is jostling for the best seats and the best slots in the Christmas Mass schedule, here was a community who revealed to me the most needed virtue of humility which today’s feast epitomises - how one can and should give up one’s place for another – a reflexion of how our Lord emptied Himself of His divinity to make room for us in heaven, even though we collectively denied Him hospitality on earth!
The beauty of Christ’s humility on this feast day reveals as much as it conceals. He demonstrates through His own birth, the meaning of humility, which is to “give up everything that does not lead to God.” This is a necessary reminder especially when humility is no longer in vogue or respected. Instead, it is held in contempt. Humility is often regarded as a sign of weakness and even stupidity, a lack of prudence in an age that demands street wise tactics and an ego the size of a football field in order to survive or be admired. Thus, humility revealed as the pathway to God is concealed to our modern senses.
The capacity to change and influence the world requires a whole list of factors missing from the Christmas story: wealth, power, a degree from a prestigious university, stage charisma, success, achievement, a proven track record, connexions with the right people, a magical public relations team and lots of media promotion. Juxtaposed against the narrator’s introduction of a seemingly all powerful Roman emperor who can move the various nations on earth as if they were his pawns, and a less powerful politician but still formidable provincial governor, the story of a child born to poor humble parents would seem too trivial for the telling. But this child would be the main protagonist of our Christmas story and not the former two.
Today, the humble often go unnoticed and are deemed insignificant. They make no impact in our lives and hardly warrant a flicker of our attention. The role models of our society are not the humble, but the selfishly ambitious, the proud, the arrogant. The people that our society looks up to – royalty, businessman, politicians, sports heroes, celebrities, actors and actresses, singers, entertainers – they all tend to have one thing in common: a very high regard for themselves, insatiable ego and ambition, and a great talent for self-promotion.
But let us now consider the humility of the Incarnation itself, the second person of the Trinity, the eternal Son of God, taking on humanity with all of its limitations, with all of its pain and sorrow and suffering. It is impossible to fathom the transformation the Lord Jesus endured to leave the glorious perfection of heaven, for a manger. The Son of God gave up His honour and glory, He let go of His position, He relinquished all of the riches of heaven, in order to become poor like us, in order to save us from our sins. He gave up that glory in order to become a human baby, a helpless little infant.
Not even a royal baby, not the son of a king; not a wealthy baby, the son of money and privilege. But instead, a peasant child born to poverty and want, raised in very humble circumstances. Surrounded not by God’s holy angels and the glory of heaven, but instead surrounded by sinful, fallen human beings (with the exception of His immaculately conceived mother) and a stinking, dirty barn. But Christ’s humility didn’t end with His birth or His childhood. It continued throughout His life.
So, how do we come before Him on this Christmas night? What can we offer to Him who created the universe and gave us everything we possess? The answer is this: we come to Him in humility, we come to Him with nothing to offer but ourselves, when we have learnt how to “give up everything that does not lead to God, and all our worldly ambitions.” Thus, the only way in which we can truly come to encounter our Lord and Saviour on this Christmas day, is to adorn the garment of humility and condescend to where He has chosen to lay His head for the night. If we want to restore Christmas to our culture, it will require more than just good intentions; it would require radical humility. We will need to give up seats on the pews or places in line. We will need to show grace, even when grace is not given. We will need to humble ourselves and follow the example set by the baby in the manger, the shepherds in the field, and Mary and Joseph as they agreed to God’s plan.
Today, anyone wishing to enter the Church of the Lord’s Nativity in Bethlehem, constructed over the site where tradition holds Jesus was born, will find that the doorway five and a half metres high, through which emperors and caliphs used to enter the building, is now largely walled up. Only a low opening of one and a half metres has remained (less than 5 feet). The intention was probably to provide the church with better protection from invaders, but above all, to prevent people from entering God’s house on horseback. Anyone wishing to enter the place of Jesus’ birth has to get off his high horse and bend down, before entering.
Pope Emeritus Benedict in reflecting over the height and size of this doorway writes: “It seems to me that a deeper truth is revealed here, which should touch our hearts on this holy night: if we want to find the God who appeared as a child, then we must dismount from the high horse of our “enlightened” reason. We must set aside our false certainties, our intellectual pride, which prevents us from recognising God’s closeness. We must follow the interior path of Saint Francis – the path leading to that ultimate outward and inward simplicity which enables the heart to see. We must bend down, spiritually we must as it were go on foot, in order to pass through the portal of faith and encounter the God who is so different from our prejudices and opinions – the God who conceals Himself in the humility of a newborn baby. In this spirit let us celebrate the liturgy of the holy night, let us strip away our fixation on what is material, on what can be measured and grasped. Let us allow ourselves to be made simple by the God who reveals himself to the simple of heart. And let us also pray especially at this hour for all who have to celebrate Christmas in poverty, in suffering, as migrants, that a ray of God’s kindness may shine upon them, that they – and we – may be touched by the kindness that God chose to bring into the world through the birth of his Son in a stable. Amen.”
One of the most impactful experiences I had as a newly ordained priest was when I had the privilege of ministering to a group of Vietnamese textile workers in Nilai. They emerged at one Christmas gathering organised by the parish for migrants and asked me if I could celebrate Mass for their community at their “hotel” (of course, they meant “hostel”). When I asked them if they had space in their “hotel” large enough to host a Mass, they excitedly told me that they had a hall. I asked them how many persons the hall can accommodate and they said 50. When I asked them how many Catholics were living there, they told me “300!”
I was having trouble doing the maths, so, I asked them how a hall meant for 50 persons could accommodate 300. Their answer simply floored me: “we will take turns.” In a world where so many feel entitled and are constantly complaining about how their demands are not being met, a world where everyone is jostling for the best seats and the best slots in the Christmas Mass schedule, here was a community who revealed to me the most needed virtue of humility which today’s feast epitomises - how one can and should give up one’s place for another – a reflexion of how our Lord emptied Himself of His divinity to make room for us in heaven, even though we collectively denied Him hospitality on earth!
The beauty of Christ’s humility on this feast day reveals as much as it conceals. He demonstrates through His own birth, the meaning of humility, which is to “give up everything that does not lead to God.” This is a necessary reminder especially when humility is no longer in vogue or respected. Instead, it is held in contempt. Humility is often regarded as a sign of weakness and even stupidity, a lack of prudence in an age that demands street wise tactics and an ego the size of a football field in order to survive or be admired. Thus, humility revealed as the pathway to God is concealed to our modern senses.
The capacity to change and influence the world requires a whole list of factors missing from the Christmas story: wealth, power, a degree from a prestigious university, stage charisma, success, achievement, a proven track record, connexions with the right people, a magical public relations team and lots of media promotion. Juxtaposed against the narrator’s introduction of a seemingly all powerful Roman emperor who can move the various nations on earth as if they were his pawns, and a less powerful politician but still formidable provincial governor, the story of a child born to poor humble parents would seem too trivial for the telling. But this child would be the main protagonist of our Christmas story and not the former two.
Today, the humble often go unnoticed and are deemed insignificant. They make no impact in our lives and hardly warrant a flicker of our attention. The role models of our society are not the humble, but the selfishly ambitious, the proud, the arrogant. The people that our society looks up to – royalty, businessman, politicians, sports heroes, celebrities, actors and actresses, singers, entertainers – they all tend to have one thing in common: a very high regard for themselves, insatiable ego and ambition, and a great talent for self-promotion.
But let us now consider the humility of the Incarnation itself, the second person of the Trinity, the eternal Son of God, taking on humanity with all of its limitations, with all of its pain and sorrow and suffering. It is impossible to fathom the transformation the Lord Jesus endured to leave the glorious perfection of heaven, for a manger. The Son of God gave up His honour and glory, He let go of His position, He relinquished all of the riches of heaven, in order to become poor like us, in order to save us from our sins. He gave up that glory in order to become a human baby, a helpless little infant.
Not even a royal baby, not the son of a king; not a wealthy baby, the son of money and privilege. But instead, a peasant child born to poverty and want, raised in very humble circumstances. Surrounded not by God’s holy angels and the glory of heaven, but instead surrounded by sinful, fallen human beings (with the exception of His immaculately conceived mother) and a stinking, dirty barn. But Christ’s humility didn’t end with His birth or His childhood. It continued throughout His life.
So, how do we come before Him on this Christmas night? What can we offer to Him who created the universe and gave us everything we possess? The answer is this: we come to Him in humility, we come to Him with nothing to offer but ourselves, when we have learnt how to “give up everything that does not lead to God, and all our worldly ambitions.” Thus, the only way in which we can truly come to encounter our Lord and Saviour on this Christmas day, is to adorn the garment of humility and condescend to where He has chosen to lay His head for the night. If we want to restore Christmas to our culture, it will require more than just good intentions; it would require radical humility. We will need to give up seats on the pews or places in line. We will need to show grace, even when grace is not given. We will need to humble ourselves and follow the example set by the baby in the manger, the shepherds in the field, and Mary and Joseph as they agreed to God’s plan.
Today, anyone wishing to enter the Church of the Lord’s Nativity in Bethlehem, constructed over the site where tradition holds Jesus was born, will find that the doorway five and a half metres high, through which emperors and caliphs used to enter the building, is now largely walled up. Only a low opening of one and a half metres has remained (less than 5 feet). The intention was probably to provide the church with better protection from invaders, but above all, to prevent people from entering God’s house on horseback. Anyone wishing to enter the place of Jesus’ birth has to get off his high horse and bend down, before entering.
Pope Emeritus Benedict in reflecting over the height and size of this doorway writes: “It seems to me that a deeper truth is revealed here, which should touch our hearts on this holy night: if we want to find the God who appeared as a child, then we must dismount from the high horse of our “enlightened” reason. We must set aside our false certainties, our intellectual pride, which prevents us from recognising God’s closeness. We must follow the interior path of Saint Francis – the path leading to that ultimate outward and inward simplicity which enables the heart to see. We must bend down, spiritually we must as it were go on foot, in order to pass through the portal of faith and encounter the God who is so different from our prejudices and opinions – the God who conceals Himself in the humility of a newborn baby. In this spirit let us celebrate the liturgy of the holy night, let us strip away our fixation on what is material, on what can be measured and grasped. Let us allow ourselves to be made simple by the God who reveals himself to the simple of heart. And let us also pray especially at this hour for all who have to celebrate Christmas in poverty, in suffering, as migrants, that a ray of God’s kindness may shine upon them, that they – and we – may be touched by the kindness that God chose to bring into the world through the birth of his Son in a stable. Amen.”
Patriarchs, Kings, Nobodies and Reprobates
Christmas Vigil Mass 2022
The story of the birth of Jesus Christ has been told for centuries. The most familiar accounts can be found in Christmas cantatas and children’s Christmas plays, and they usually involve the story of the annunciation to Mary, the birth of the Christ-Child in Bethlehem or the appearance of the angel to the shepherds, yet the liturgy of the Vigil Mass begins the story where Matthew begins his Nativity story, that is with the genealogy of Jesus.
I enjoy reading this long list of weird sounding names and love the sound of each rolling off my tongue. I’m quite sure that I would have mispronounced some and butchered most of them. For many, the list seems pointless to our Christmas narrative and many would choose to just skim over or even skip this portion completely, which the liturgy anticipates by offering us the shorter version which includes the last few lines of the text whilst excluding the rest. But I am convinced that our understanding of this vigil liturgy will be impoverished when the genealogical list is missing. And it’s not because I’m a liturgical purist or masochist.
The inclusion of this list in Matthew’s gospel is not accidental. Matthew appears to be teaching us a powerful message about the Messiah by recording His lineage. Matthew divides the genealogy into three main sections of fourteen names each. The first section lists the patriarchs, the second lists the kings, and the third lists names of people mostly unknown to us.
The genealogy begins with Matthew stating, "A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” Does Matthew wish to present his entire gospel of Jesus Christ as a genealogy? One would imagine that this short line would be an adequately succinct summary of our Lord’s human origins. But then Matthew continues with the list by going into the details starting with the great patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. These were men of great faith who left us heroic examples of righteousness. Right from the start, Matthew appears to be giving us a key to understanding his message. Each of these men were promised that through their seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed, a blessing that would be fully realised only through the birth and coming of the Messiah.
In the second section of the genealogy, we have a list which includes Judah’s kings from David to the Babylonian captivity, emphasising the importance of the dynasty of King David. David was seen by the Jews as their greatest king. Through him the nation of Israel was united. Under his command, the temple was built by his son Solomon. Through his seed the nation was ruled by the line of kings. One would imagine that his successors would meet up to his legacy. But none of them did, save for two. Only two of the fourteen kings mentioned were considered righteous. Most of them failed to guide their people to the Lord. In fact, they led the people astray with their idolatry and burdened them with social injustices. The true King of Kings in David’s royal line would only be fulfilled through Christ, the Anointed One.
Finally, the last section lists names of those that are otherwise mostly unknown in the Bible. Matthew shows us the critical role these unknown persons played in the story. We can easily view ourselves as nothing special when compared to great spiritual and political leaders like the patriarchs and kings in the previous two sections. But many of us would find good company among those mentioned in this third section, namely the unknowns and insignificant.
From these divisions, we can see that God is able to work through both the spiritually and politically powerful and influential, as well as common ordinary folks that appear to be powerless, unknown and insignificant. And that last part is good news for us because it teaches us that each of us can play a critical role in helping to build the kingdom of God, even if we can boast of no outstanding pedigree or significant influence.
What more, rather than an evolution which leads to the production of a perfect man due to centuries of selection of the fittest over the weakest, the genealogy seems to indicate a regression. Things don’t improve. In fact, they seem to get worse. What seems more scandalous is that after listing out the genealogy of Joseph which can be traced back to Abraham and David, Matthew makes a simple cursory note that the Saviour is to be born of Mary, but He will not be scion of Joseph. The Saviour, is ultimately, unconnected to this genealogy of both notables and unknowns. Which leads us to this truth - that though the Messiah is prophesied to be “a son of David, a son of Abraham,” He will not be the product of good genes and an impeccable lineage. The Saviour of the World would come to us as God’s decisive intervention in human history. God will be the cause of this messianic evolutionary leap, not genetics.
There are four names which stand out in this list, they are that of women. Of all the women ancestors of our Lord, why would these four be named. It was certainly not because they were womanly paragons of virtue since one was guilty of incest, another of prostitution, another was an opportunist and finally, the last mentioned seemed to have willingly committed adultery and tacitly participated in the murder of her husband. Once again, we are shown the subversive side of God and the paradox of God bringing something exceedingly good out of something apparently bad. It is a reminder that, not only do bad things sometimes have good effects, but that in some cases the badness of the cause is essential to the realisation of the good effect. If not for Adam’s sin, our Saviour would not have come. If not for Christ’s death, we will not be saved. If not for these women to continue the line of Abraham and David, our Lord would not possess the messianic title of being called “Son of David” or “Emmanuel.”
After these four female ancestors of questionable reputation, the last woman mentioned stands out. She is Mary. She does not have any illustrious genealogy to boast of. Her origins are unknown. But we do know her as a Virgin who was hailed by the angel as being “full of grace.” Unlike the other women, we finally have a woman untouched by sin, which the Church teaches is not through her own merits but through the merits of her Son. Her place in the story highlights the truth that the Messiah’s true origin is God. Jesus, our Saviour, comes from God and is indeed God because God alone can save us from our sins.
As we read the genealogy of Jesus Christ and consider the people mentioned in His lineage, we learn how God chooses all sorts and weaves them into His story of salvation. Whether a righteous prophet, an imperfect leader, an unknown helper, or someone with a questionable background or reputation, all are known to the Lord. No matter our status, background, or station in life, we too can have our name added to the long, beautiful list of those who play a critical role in God’s plan of salvation. During this Christmas and every Christmas, let us not forget that our Lord Jesus chose to be born into our human story, our history, to be “a man like us in all things but sin" (Eucharistic Prayer IV, cf Hebrews 4:15). O Come O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel!
The story of the birth of Jesus Christ has been told for centuries. The most familiar accounts can be found in Christmas cantatas and children’s Christmas plays, and they usually involve the story of the annunciation to Mary, the birth of the Christ-Child in Bethlehem or the appearance of the angel to the shepherds, yet the liturgy of the Vigil Mass begins the story where Matthew begins his Nativity story, that is with the genealogy of Jesus.
I enjoy reading this long list of weird sounding names and love the sound of each rolling off my tongue. I’m quite sure that I would have mispronounced some and butchered most of them. For many, the list seems pointless to our Christmas narrative and many would choose to just skim over or even skip this portion completely, which the liturgy anticipates by offering us the shorter version which includes the last few lines of the text whilst excluding the rest. But I am convinced that our understanding of this vigil liturgy will be impoverished when the genealogical list is missing. And it’s not because I’m a liturgical purist or masochist.
The inclusion of this list in Matthew’s gospel is not accidental. Matthew appears to be teaching us a powerful message about the Messiah by recording His lineage. Matthew divides the genealogy into three main sections of fourteen names each. The first section lists the patriarchs, the second lists the kings, and the third lists names of people mostly unknown to us.
The genealogy begins with Matthew stating, "A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” Does Matthew wish to present his entire gospel of Jesus Christ as a genealogy? One would imagine that this short line would be an adequately succinct summary of our Lord’s human origins. But then Matthew continues with the list by going into the details starting with the great patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. These were men of great faith who left us heroic examples of righteousness. Right from the start, Matthew appears to be giving us a key to understanding his message. Each of these men were promised that through their seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed, a blessing that would be fully realised only through the birth and coming of the Messiah.
In the second section of the genealogy, we have a list which includes Judah’s kings from David to the Babylonian captivity, emphasising the importance of the dynasty of King David. David was seen by the Jews as their greatest king. Through him the nation of Israel was united. Under his command, the temple was built by his son Solomon. Through his seed the nation was ruled by the line of kings. One would imagine that his successors would meet up to his legacy. But none of them did, save for two. Only two of the fourteen kings mentioned were considered righteous. Most of them failed to guide their people to the Lord. In fact, they led the people astray with their idolatry and burdened them with social injustices. The true King of Kings in David’s royal line would only be fulfilled through Christ, the Anointed One.
Finally, the last section lists names of those that are otherwise mostly unknown in the Bible. Matthew shows us the critical role these unknown persons played in the story. We can easily view ourselves as nothing special when compared to great spiritual and political leaders like the patriarchs and kings in the previous two sections. But many of us would find good company among those mentioned in this third section, namely the unknowns and insignificant.
From these divisions, we can see that God is able to work through both the spiritually and politically powerful and influential, as well as common ordinary folks that appear to be powerless, unknown and insignificant. And that last part is good news for us because it teaches us that each of us can play a critical role in helping to build the kingdom of God, even if we can boast of no outstanding pedigree or significant influence.
What more, rather than an evolution which leads to the production of a perfect man due to centuries of selection of the fittest over the weakest, the genealogy seems to indicate a regression. Things don’t improve. In fact, they seem to get worse. What seems more scandalous is that after listing out the genealogy of Joseph which can be traced back to Abraham and David, Matthew makes a simple cursory note that the Saviour is to be born of Mary, but He will not be scion of Joseph. The Saviour, is ultimately, unconnected to this genealogy of both notables and unknowns. Which leads us to this truth - that though the Messiah is prophesied to be “a son of David, a son of Abraham,” He will not be the product of good genes and an impeccable lineage. The Saviour of the World would come to us as God’s decisive intervention in human history. God will be the cause of this messianic evolutionary leap, not genetics.
There are four names which stand out in this list, they are that of women. Of all the women ancestors of our Lord, why would these four be named. It was certainly not because they were womanly paragons of virtue since one was guilty of incest, another of prostitution, another was an opportunist and finally, the last mentioned seemed to have willingly committed adultery and tacitly participated in the murder of her husband. Once again, we are shown the subversive side of God and the paradox of God bringing something exceedingly good out of something apparently bad. It is a reminder that, not only do bad things sometimes have good effects, but that in some cases the badness of the cause is essential to the realisation of the good effect. If not for Adam’s sin, our Saviour would not have come. If not for Christ’s death, we will not be saved. If not for these women to continue the line of Abraham and David, our Lord would not possess the messianic title of being called “Son of David” or “Emmanuel.”
After these four female ancestors of questionable reputation, the last woman mentioned stands out. She is Mary. She does not have any illustrious genealogy to boast of. Her origins are unknown. But we do know her as a Virgin who was hailed by the angel as being “full of grace.” Unlike the other women, we finally have a woman untouched by sin, which the Church teaches is not through her own merits but through the merits of her Son. Her place in the story highlights the truth that the Messiah’s true origin is God. Jesus, our Saviour, comes from God and is indeed God because God alone can save us from our sins.
As we read the genealogy of Jesus Christ and consider the people mentioned in His lineage, we learn how God chooses all sorts and weaves them into His story of salvation. Whether a righteous prophet, an imperfect leader, an unknown helper, or someone with a questionable background or reputation, all are known to the Lord. No matter our status, background, or station in life, we too can have our name added to the long, beautiful list of those who play a critical role in God’s plan of salvation. During this Christmas and every Christmas, let us not forget that our Lord Jesus chose to be born into our human story, our history, to be “a man like us in all things but sin" (Eucharistic Prayer IV, cf Hebrews 4:15). O Come O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel!
Wednesday, December 14, 2022
God is with us
Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A
If you’ve ever had the opportunity to walk into an Orthodox Church, your senses will be immediately assaulted by a delightful riot of colours - colourful icons lining the walls, and with the largest concentration of them on the iconostasis, the icon laced screen which separates the nave of the church from the sanctuary where the holy mysteries are celebrated. But one icon stands out and provides an easy point of focus to any visitor because it is usually present in the upper part of the altar, the apsidal vault, the focal point of any church. What does this image show, and what is behind its name?
The icon shows the Mother of God from the waist up, facing us, with her hands lifted up to the level of her head, elbows bent. From time immemorial this gesture has signified a prayerful appeal to God, and still are sometimes, called Oranta (Latin for praying). The Christ-child, Emmanuel, is depicted in a circle of light at her bosom. It almost has a fish bowl effect which allows us to peer into the womb of the Blessed Virgin. But instead of a not fully formed foetus, we are presented with a miniature version of an adult Christ (minus the facial hair) with His hands extended in benediction. Although first timers would conclude that this is an icon of the Holy Mother of God, a more reflective scrutiny gives the impression of Mary presenting us with Christ, and our attention is drawn – as always with icons of the Theotokos – to her Son, our Saviour. Mary is merely the frame, Christ her son is the masterpiece.
Though it has several names, the most common name for this icon is the Lady of the Sign. It derives its name from this passage which we just heard in the first reading: ‘The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’
This sign was a kind of a super bonus which God decided to give to Ahaz, even though the latter chose not to ask for it. For those who know the back story of Ahaz, this sudden refusal to ask God for a sign did not come from a good place, as if Ahaz did it out of humble obedience to God. In fact, Ahaz is considered to be one of the worst kings of Judah, and his own personal faults were compounded by an equally evil wife, Jezebel. Together, they epitomised the couple from hell. So, why would God “reward” this evil king with this promise of a sign?
Ahaz was about to be forced into an alliance, in a vain attempt to oppose the crushing military power of Babylon. For you Black Panther fans out there, think of this as something similar to the proposed alliance between Wakanda and Talokan - a marriage doomed for failure. The prophet Isaiah goes to Ahaz and warns him that the alliance would be fatal: he had better trust in the Lord rather than in human machinations. Isaiah promises a sign, which Ahaz refuses, not because he has a change of heart and does not want to put God to the test. The real reason for the refusal is simple - he does not want to be convinced! He doesn’t want to change his mind. But God will have none of this. Ahaz will get a sign, even if he chooses to reject it, because the sign will have a significance far greater than this political conundrum which Ahaz is facing. It would be a sign which will herald salvation, not just for Ahaz or for this moment but for all generations to come.
What is this sign? The original Hebrew simply reads, ‘A girl is with child and will bear a son’, indicating that within a few months the threat will vanish and Jerusalem will be convinced that God is on their side – hence the boy will be called Emmanuel, “God-is-with-us.”. But the Greek translation of the Hebrew, made some 200 years before the birth of Jesus, translates ‘The virgin (or maiden) is with child’, which the evangelist Matthew sees as a prophecy of the birth of Jesus from the Virgin Mary.
In the gospel, we have another man who is promised a sign but this man is the diametrical moral opposite of Ahaz in the Old Testament. Though he is a descendant of Ahaz and King David, St Joseph is described as a “man of honour,” or in some translations a “righteous man”. Unlike, his notorious ancestor, Joseph puts up no resistance to the angel’s message through the medium of a dream: ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ And St Matthew then adds the additional editorial note that this was to fulfil Isaiah’s prophecy: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.’
Although the prophecy says that “they will call him Emmanuel,” Mary and Joseph didn’t give their son that name. Instead, they followed the directions given specifically to them to name Him Jesus. As seen in today’s passage, the meaning of Emmanuel is ‘God-is-with-us.’ The promised child was given the name of Jesus, which means ‘God-saves.’ There is no contradiction between the two. God is with us not in some dormant or passive way. He is with us for one singular purpose - to save us.
So, today, even if you are not ready for a sign or feel any need for a sign, even if you have not asked for one, know this, that God will give you a sign; indeed, He has given you one, the only one that truly matters - His Son Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. If you’ve ever asked for a sign from God, especially when you are at the crossroads and at a moment of decision, know this to be true - God has given you the sign: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.”
Think about it. Isn’t this the sign you’ve always craved? Haven’t your hearts been asking for nothing less than this – that God should know what it’s like to be you, to understand your deepest pain, your hardship, and your daily struggles. To learn what it means to be here, to be in your shoes, to be with us. That was the promise and this is the sign. God would come. And soon, very soon, we will celebrate His virgin birth. He came here to die. He came to free us from this world of sin. He came not just to be with us, but to make it so that we could forever be with Him. With Christians throughout the world and through the centuries, let us cry:
O Come O Come Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
If you’ve ever had the opportunity to walk into an Orthodox Church, your senses will be immediately assaulted by a delightful riot of colours - colourful icons lining the walls, and with the largest concentration of them on the iconostasis, the icon laced screen which separates the nave of the church from the sanctuary where the holy mysteries are celebrated. But one icon stands out and provides an easy point of focus to any visitor because it is usually present in the upper part of the altar, the apsidal vault, the focal point of any church. What does this image show, and what is behind its name?
The icon shows the Mother of God from the waist up, facing us, with her hands lifted up to the level of her head, elbows bent. From time immemorial this gesture has signified a prayerful appeal to God, and still are sometimes, called Oranta (Latin for praying). The Christ-child, Emmanuel, is depicted in a circle of light at her bosom. It almost has a fish bowl effect which allows us to peer into the womb of the Blessed Virgin. But instead of a not fully formed foetus, we are presented with a miniature version of an adult Christ (minus the facial hair) with His hands extended in benediction. Although first timers would conclude that this is an icon of the Holy Mother of God, a more reflective scrutiny gives the impression of Mary presenting us with Christ, and our attention is drawn – as always with icons of the Theotokos – to her Son, our Saviour. Mary is merely the frame, Christ her son is the masterpiece.
Though it has several names, the most common name for this icon is the Lady of the Sign. It derives its name from this passage which we just heard in the first reading: ‘The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’
This sign was a kind of a super bonus which God decided to give to Ahaz, even though the latter chose not to ask for it. For those who know the back story of Ahaz, this sudden refusal to ask God for a sign did not come from a good place, as if Ahaz did it out of humble obedience to God. In fact, Ahaz is considered to be one of the worst kings of Judah, and his own personal faults were compounded by an equally evil wife, Jezebel. Together, they epitomised the couple from hell. So, why would God “reward” this evil king with this promise of a sign?
Ahaz was about to be forced into an alliance, in a vain attempt to oppose the crushing military power of Babylon. For you Black Panther fans out there, think of this as something similar to the proposed alliance between Wakanda and Talokan - a marriage doomed for failure. The prophet Isaiah goes to Ahaz and warns him that the alliance would be fatal: he had better trust in the Lord rather than in human machinations. Isaiah promises a sign, which Ahaz refuses, not because he has a change of heart and does not want to put God to the test. The real reason for the refusal is simple - he does not want to be convinced! He doesn’t want to change his mind. But God will have none of this. Ahaz will get a sign, even if he chooses to reject it, because the sign will have a significance far greater than this political conundrum which Ahaz is facing. It would be a sign which will herald salvation, not just for Ahaz or for this moment but for all generations to come.
What is this sign? The original Hebrew simply reads, ‘A girl is with child and will bear a son’, indicating that within a few months the threat will vanish and Jerusalem will be convinced that God is on their side – hence the boy will be called Emmanuel, “God-is-with-us.”. But the Greek translation of the Hebrew, made some 200 years before the birth of Jesus, translates ‘The virgin (or maiden) is with child’, which the evangelist Matthew sees as a prophecy of the birth of Jesus from the Virgin Mary.
In the gospel, we have another man who is promised a sign but this man is the diametrical moral opposite of Ahaz in the Old Testament. Though he is a descendant of Ahaz and King David, St Joseph is described as a “man of honour,” or in some translations a “righteous man”. Unlike, his notorious ancestor, Joseph puts up no resistance to the angel’s message through the medium of a dream: ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ And St Matthew then adds the additional editorial note that this was to fulfil Isaiah’s prophecy: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.’
Although the prophecy says that “they will call him Emmanuel,” Mary and Joseph didn’t give their son that name. Instead, they followed the directions given specifically to them to name Him Jesus. As seen in today’s passage, the meaning of Emmanuel is ‘God-is-with-us.’ The promised child was given the name of Jesus, which means ‘God-saves.’ There is no contradiction between the two. God is with us not in some dormant or passive way. He is with us for one singular purpose - to save us.
So, today, even if you are not ready for a sign or feel any need for a sign, even if you have not asked for one, know this, that God will give you a sign; indeed, He has given you one, the only one that truly matters - His Son Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. If you’ve ever asked for a sign from God, especially when you are at the crossroads and at a moment of decision, know this to be true - God has given you the sign: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.”
Think about it. Isn’t this the sign you’ve always craved? Haven’t your hearts been asking for nothing less than this – that God should know what it’s like to be you, to understand your deepest pain, your hardship, and your daily struggles. To learn what it means to be here, to be in your shoes, to be with us. That was the promise and this is the sign. God would come. And soon, very soon, we will celebrate His virgin birth. He came here to die. He came to free us from this world of sin. He came not just to be with us, but to make it so that we could forever be with Him. With Christians throughout the world and through the centuries, let us cry:
O Come O Come Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.
Tuesday, December 6, 2022
Already but Not-Yet
Third Sunday of Advent Year A
We have a set of idioms which often express this truth that you cannot be doing two different things at the same time. For example, “He who chases two rabbits will catch neither.” But of course, some would claim, as President Joe Biden often does, that “you can walk and chew gum at the same time.” Advent has the ability to bring together two ideas which doesn’t seem to coalesce because they can be found at diametrically opposite ends of the time spectrum. One is that “Jesus is coming” and the second is that “Jesus has already come.” So which is it? Has he come or are we still waiting?
This is often described as “already-but-not-yet”. In salvation history, the past, present and the future are not like oil and water; they are organically connected like seed and tree. So, Christ’s first coming at Christmas marks the beginning of the last days. Christ is the fulfilment of the age of perfection and renewal envisioned by the prophets and yet, the complete fulfilment of those prophecies can only be experienced at a future time - when Christ returns in glory. Christ’s second coming will mark the end of the last days. So, we are living now between the beginning and the end of the End Times, between the Lord’s first and second coming.
This expectation of the Lord’s coming is a powerful theme among the prophets. This is what we hear in the first reading. To a people in exile who have lost their home, Chapter 35 of Isaiah is like a brilliant shaft of light breaking through the clouds of despair and all is bathed in splendour again. Arid wastes burst into bloom as the glory of the Lord comes down like refreshing showers, and the whole earth shouts for joy. It’s a vision to steady trembling hands, strengthen weak knees, and lift fearful hearts.
The people addressed here remember the sights of home, but they are far away, and powerless to return. They have been conquered and brutalised, and their anguished hearts cry out for vengeance, retribution, and deliverance. But they have no strength to right the wrongs they have suffered or to bring those responsible to account. They are blind, deaf, lame, and mute; they have no power to help themselves; only God can save them. And the good news of this chapter is that He will do just that. Isaiah cries, ‘Look, your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; he is coming to save you.’ He will raise up a highway for them and bring them home. They will enter Zion with singing…sorrow and sighing will flee away, and they will be overtaken by a joy that will never end.
What an amazing vision and yet it is clear that it reaches beyond the event of the return of the Jews from exile to something else. Even after returning from exile, the Jews continue to suffer. The everlasting joy promised in this chapter will always prove elusive, until it finds its fulfilment in Christ. This too was on the mind of St John the Baptist as he languished in prison awaiting his own execution. Having received word of our Lord Jesus and His ministry, John sends his disciples to clarify his doubts: “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” In other words, is Jesus the fulfilment of the prophecies of Isaiah?
Although no timeline is given for this to happen, Isaiah’s prophecy provides the “signs” by which this age is to be identified: “the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy.” Our Lord’s answer to the Baptist’s emissary confirms that Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled: “Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor.” The miracles worked by the Lord demonstrate that the moment of true redemption foreseen indistinctly by the prophets has come to pass.
If our Lord is the fulfilment of what the prophets had anticipated, then why are we still living in expectation? Yes, our Lord has already fulfilled these prophecies through His first coming at the Incarnation but its final results will only be seen when He returns in glory after His ascension to the Father’s right hand. From there He sends out the Holy Spirit on His Church. Now He is present in our midst through faith, through the preaching of the Gospel and in the sacraments. So, although we continue to wait in anticipation for that day when all His enemies will be placed under His feet, we are already now experiencing His victory over sin, the devil and death. His victory is “already-but-not-yet!” This is why the Church exhorts us to rejoice.
The call to rejoice may seem a little hollow. We are facing so many challenges on a personal and public level. There are financial stresses, health problems, deadlines at work, dysfunctional relationships with family members. On a national and global perspective, there is widespread inflation and a shrinking economy, an unstable unity government on the brink of shattering, political and religious apathy especially among the young, and perhaps a world on the brink of a third world war. So, in the midst of this, how do we rejoice? How can we rejoice?
It is good to be reminded that the Lord did not promise us a trouble-free life or world. One cannot find any such articulation in the gospels. The promise is that: ‘your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; He is coming to save you.’ And we see in Christ that this promise is already being fulfilled but not completely yet. We Christians must continue to live in the tension between the “already” and the “not yet”. It is the tension of knowing that God has come in the flesh, but we await His return in glory; that God has wreaked vengeance to and brought retribution to our enemies although we still have to live under their oppressive rule for a limited time; and that although God has saved us and liberated us from the prison of sin and death, we must continue to persevere and faithfully follow the path of sanctification, resisting sin and growing in virtue through the graces.
Though our future is certain because we have been redeemed by our Lord’s death and resurrection (the already), our sanctification (the not yet) can be turbulent. Sanctification is an ongoing battle. Sometimes we win; sometimes we lose. We’re constantly in flux. We have mountaintop experiences before lying defeated in dark valleys. We take three steps forward before quickly taking two steps (or four steps) back. In the midst of this distressing battle, viewing one’s sanctification through the already-not yet lens keeps you from feeling powerless. We of course, would like to have only one of these realities: victory without defeat, success without failure, perfection without sacrifice. But as for now, living in the tension of the “already” and “not yet,” we must learn to patiently endure both realities, knowing that our Lord “is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God, He is coming to save you.” That is why, let us heed the advice of St James: “Be patient, brothers, until the Lord’s coming…do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”
We have a set of idioms which often express this truth that you cannot be doing two different things at the same time. For example, “He who chases two rabbits will catch neither.” But of course, some would claim, as President Joe Biden often does, that “you can walk and chew gum at the same time.” Advent has the ability to bring together two ideas which doesn’t seem to coalesce because they can be found at diametrically opposite ends of the time spectrum. One is that “Jesus is coming” and the second is that “Jesus has already come.” So which is it? Has he come or are we still waiting?
This is often described as “already-but-not-yet”. In salvation history, the past, present and the future are not like oil and water; they are organically connected like seed and tree. So, Christ’s first coming at Christmas marks the beginning of the last days. Christ is the fulfilment of the age of perfection and renewal envisioned by the prophets and yet, the complete fulfilment of those prophecies can only be experienced at a future time - when Christ returns in glory. Christ’s second coming will mark the end of the last days. So, we are living now between the beginning and the end of the End Times, between the Lord’s first and second coming.
This expectation of the Lord’s coming is a powerful theme among the prophets. This is what we hear in the first reading. To a people in exile who have lost their home, Chapter 35 of Isaiah is like a brilliant shaft of light breaking through the clouds of despair and all is bathed in splendour again. Arid wastes burst into bloom as the glory of the Lord comes down like refreshing showers, and the whole earth shouts for joy. It’s a vision to steady trembling hands, strengthen weak knees, and lift fearful hearts.
The people addressed here remember the sights of home, but they are far away, and powerless to return. They have been conquered and brutalised, and their anguished hearts cry out for vengeance, retribution, and deliverance. But they have no strength to right the wrongs they have suffered or to bring those responsible to account. They are blind, deaf, lame, and mute; they have no power to help themselves; only God can save them. And the good news of this chapter is that He will do just that. Isaiah cries, ‘Look, your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; he is coming to save you.’ He will raise up a highway for them and bring them home. They will enter Zion with singing…sorrow and sighing will flee away, and they will be overtaken by a joy that will never end.
What an amazing vision and yet it is clear that it reaches beyond the event of the return of the Jews from exile to something else. Even after returning from exile, the Jews continue to suffer. The everlasting joy promised in this chapter will always prove elusive, until it finds its fulfilment in Christ. This too was on the mind of St John the Baptist as he languished in prison awaiting his own execution. Having received word of our Lord Jesus and His ministry, John sends his disciples to clarify his doubts: “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” In other words, is Jesus the fulfilment of the prophecies of Isaiah?
Although no timeline is given for this to happen, Isaiah’s prophecy provides the “signs” by which this age is to be identified: “the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy.” Our Lord’s answer to the Baptist’s emissary confirms that Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled: “Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor.” The miracles worked by the Lord demonstrate that the moment of true redemption foreseen indistinctly by the prophets has come to pass.
If our Lord is the fulfilment of what the prophets had anticipated, then why are we still living in expectation? Yes, our Lord has already fulfilled these prophecies through His first coming at the Incarnation but its final results will only be seen when He returns in glory after His ascension to the Father’s right hand. From there He sends out the Holy Spirit on His Church. Now He is present in our midst through faith, through the preaching of the Gospel and in the sacraments. So, although we continue to wait in anticipation for that day when all His enemies will be placed under His feet, we are already now experiencing His victory over sin, the devil and death. His victory is “already-but-not-yet!” This is why the Church exhorts us to rejoice.
The call to rejoice may seem a little hollow. We are facing so many challenges on a personal and public level. There are financial stresses, health problems, deadlines at work, dysfunctional relationships with family members. On a national and global perspective, there is widespread inflation and a shrinking economy, an unstable unity government on the brink of shattering, political and religious apathy especially among the young, and perhaps a world on the brink of a third world war. So, in the midst of this, how do we rejoice? How can we rejoice?
It is good to be reminded that the Lord did not promise us a trouble-free life or world. One cannot find any such articulation in the gospels. The promise is that: ‘your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; He is coming to save you.’ And we see in Christ that this promise is already being fulfilled but not completely yet. We Christians must continue to live in the tension between the “already” and the “not yet”. It is the tension of knowing that God has come in the flesh, but we await His return in glory; that God has wreaked vengeance to and brought retribution to our enemies although we still have to live under their oppressive rule for a limited time; and that although God has saved us and liberated us from the prison of sin and death, we must continue to persevere and faithfully follow the path of sanctification, resisting sin and growing in virtue through the graces.
Though our future is certain because we have been redeemed by our Lord’s death and resurrection (the already), our sanctification (the not yet) can be turbulent. Sanctification is an ongoing battle. Sometimes we win; sometimes we lose. We’re constantly in flux. We have mountaintop experiences before lying defeated in dark valleys. We take three steps forward before quickly taking two steps (or four steps) back. In the midst of this distressing battle, viewing one’s sanctification through the already-not yet lens keeps you from feeling powerless. We of course, would like to have only one of these realities: victory without defeat, success without failure, perfection without sacrifice. But as for now, living in the tension of the “already” and “not yet,” we must learn to patiently endure both realities, knowing that our Lord “is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God, He is coming to save you.” That is why, let us heed the advice of St James: “Be patient, brothers, until the Lord’s coming…do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”