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.”
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)
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.”
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!
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.
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.”
Second Sunday of Advent Year A
Every Advent, we are treated to gospel passages stretching across two consecutive Sundays where the spotlight seems to be on the precursor of the Lord, His cousin St John the Baptist. The prominence of St John during this season is understandable. Both he and the Lord preached the same message: “repent, for the kingdom of God is close at hand.” It is thus no accident that John and Jesus suffered the same fate. John is beheaded and Jesus crucified by those who refused to accept their message- they refused to “repent.”
Let’s be honest, repentance isn’t easy because admitting or confessing one’s sins isn’t easy. In fact, many people resent the Catholic faith because they think that Catholicism, and especially the clergy, take great pleasure in making them feel guilty and rotten to the core. Even though you would hardly hear any priest rail against you as St John the Baptist did against the Pharisees and Sadducees in today’s passage, just speaking of sin and repentance is offensive enough. Many believe that the only way to get rid of guilt is to turn your back on the very institution or person that reminds you of your guilt. But this is as ridiculous as killing the doctor who tells you that you have a terminal illness. They fail to recognise that the only real way to get rid of the guilt is through repentance, just as a person after having accepted his diagnosis, would submit himself willingly to the hands of the doctor who is treating him.
In all my years of hearing confessions, the confessions of sin-deniers can be quite amusing as well as saddening. The excuses range from the blatant lie, “Father, I don’t have any sins,” to blaming others, “he made me do it,” and then the penitent (if you could even call him one) starts listing out the faults of others. The irony of it. The so-called penitent goes for confession thinking that he or she has no sin and leaves without being reconciled but instead carries the additional burden of at least four sins: lying, self-righteousness, blaming and complaining.
Someone once said that, “he who excuses himself, accuses himself.” To the Christian, however, the opposite is true. He who accuses himself, excuses himself. When we acknowledge our guilt before God, He removes that guilt forever. He blots out our sins from the record of eternity. The confessional used to be described as a sort of courtroom, but the strangest courtroom ever conceived. For it is the only courtroom in which a guilty plea is always met with complete pardon, and the prisoner set free.
So, what does it mean to be repentant? The Greek word we translate as “repentance” is metanoia (the verb “to repent” is metanoeo), and it means “to change your mind.” Metanoia’s Hebrew counterpart is tshuva, which means “to return.” For example, God told the people of Israel, “Repent and turn away from your idols; and turn away your faces from all your abominations” (Ezek. 14:6). So when Jesus says, “Repent and believe in the gospel,” He is basically saying: change your mind about sin, and return to God by believing the Good News! So, in order to be saved, we must repent. Repentance means not just running back to God, but running away from anything that would keep us from God.
Repentance helps us recognise that we are lost without God. We cannot be good independently of His grace. The Christian faith isn’t a kind of “self-help” programme that makes you feel “good” about yourself. But the problem is that most people would rather look for a feel-good religion than a religion that actually makes you good. And we cannot advance in spiritual progress, becoming good and even better, unless we are willing to repent. The good news of salvation will make little sense if we did not first understand the bad news of sin and how it keeps us from God and being good. Repentance is the sine qua non, the absolutely necessary condition, for salvation.
According to the early Fathers of the Church, all true repentance must begin with humility and humility is merely acknowledging that we are sinners. It is pride which makes us blame others and give excuses for ourselves. But to take our eyes off others’ sins and instead to admit our own — this is only possible through humility. To take our eyes off ourselves and look to God is also an act of humility.
Advent is a season of new beginnings and for this reason it must also be a season of repentance. Likewise, the Christian faith is the religion of beginning again, for it is the religion of repentance and restoration. Even “as the axe is laid to the roots of the trees, so that any tree which fails to produce good fruit will be cut down and thrown on the fire,” we are promised that “a shoot springs from the stock of Jesse, a scion thrusts from his roots”, once thought to be dead, but now alive once more. The old self must die so that the new self may be reborn. And even when all hope seems lost, when things appear to have come to a dead end, let us place our trust in the One who has baptised us in the Holy Spirit and fire, and who can even raise children for Abraham from stones. So, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand.”
First Sunday of Advent Year A
Advent is here! As the world winds down to the close of another year, we Christians are already ahead in beginning a new one. As people around us get ready for the holidays, make preparations for their annual break, we Christians are renewing our vigilance and recommitting ourselves to the work of mission.
We begin our season of Advent, the start of a new liturgical year, with a reminder that the end times are real - it is not make belief designed to scare Christians into docile submission. We should not treat this news, however, with an alarmist state of panic nor with apathy. We should not ignore our Lord’s warning and be caught off guard, as were the people during the time of the Great Flood or the two contemporary examples He cited. The tragedy of their error is an important lesson for us in this day and age. The necessary response is wakefulness or watchfulness. “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming.”
Before you grab a strong cup of coffee with a double shot, you need to remember that what our Lord is referring to is a different kind of wakefulness. The wakefulness that the Lord describes is a state—a practice, a way of being—that bears little resemblance to the ways we usually try to keep ourselves (or unwittingly find ourselves) awake, methods that usually leave us less than fully functional.
Another verb could be used to describe the wakefulness which our Lord is asking from us: “watch”! This is what we hear in the First Advent Preface: “Now we watch for the day, hoping that the salvation promised us will be ours, when Christ our Lord will come again in his glory.” Advent can thus be summarised in this simple imperative: “Watch.”
Christ will come again. That Christ will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead is an article of our faith. But He will come unexpectedly and suddenly. The fact that we do not know the time of His return means that we are to live in a state of constant wakefulness or watchfulness. Therefore watching should be our permanent disposition. “Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.”
What does it mean to be ready and watchful? It means, we look beyond the present to the future coming of Christ and His kingdom. It means, the present should be understood in the light of the coming Kingdom. It means, that all aspects of the Church’s life, our personal life, should be oriented towards the coming of Christ and the coming of His Kingdom. Too often, we are too myopic in our projections and planning. We fuss over short term goals and get distressed when our targets are not met, when our projects yield results which fall below our expectations. When we have closed our vision to the coming of Christ and His Kingdom at the end of this age, it is so easy for us to become disillusioned and give up. But constantly keeping our eye on the ball – which is the Lord’s coming, will fuel our resilience and strengthen our perseverance. It’s not the end until He comes again in glory, victorious and with His enemies under His feet.
We live not only in expectation of the Kingdom, not only in anticipation of the coming of the Messiah, but our whole life at present should be oriented towards the Kingdom of Christ. The second coming is not simply a future event but an event which controls, shapes and directs our life at the present. It is an event which transforms our view of life. To be oriented towards the coming Kingdom means that we live today as if we were already in the Kingdom of God. This is what St Paul tells us in the second reading, reminding us that as people who live in the daytime and not like those who live under the cover of night, we must live virtuous lives, free from vice, because “the time has come,” and that “our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted.”
If watchfulness is a permanent attitude and disposition of every Christian as we sojourn this earthly life on our way to the heavenly Kingdom, how can we make it a “way of life”? St Hesychios sets out different levels of watchfulness:
1. We must watch our thoughts. This is a watchfulness that guards against enticing mental images and thoughts, for these are the precursors to temptations and sin.
2. We must watch the desires and movements of the heart. This kind of watchfulness “frees the heart from all thoughts, keeping the heart profoundly silent and still in prayer.”
3. We must acknowledge our neediness and vulnerability. This is a watchfulness that “continually and humbly calls upon the Lord Jesus Christ for help.”
4. We must watch and prepare for death. Death is the universal equaliser which humbles the proud, reminds us of the fragility of our projects and impermanence of our possessions. Therefore, an attitude of watchfulness should always keep the remembrance of death in mind.
5. Lastly, watchfulness should fix our gaze on heaven rather than on the world.
As catechumens today take their first step to become full members of the Church, the liturgy exhorts you to watch your thoughts, watch your desires and the movements of your heart, discern what your heart is really longing for, prepare to die to yourself and finally fix your gaze on heaven rather than on the world.
We never know what each day will bring, just as no one knows when the Lord will return. That is why we are to be faithful at whatever duty that has been entrusted to us and making preparation to meet the Lord must be a lifelong commitment. Whether in our business, personal, or spiritual life, this should be how we think, live, preach and pray. Advent is, therefore, a reminder that there is no room for complacency in the Christian life. Let’s heed the Lord’s wake-up call. “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming.” “Watch!”
Solemnity of Christ the King Year C
This year we witnessed the death of Queen Elizabeth II, whom many hailed as the last truly Christian monarch of the world, as many other nominally Christian monarchs had long abdicated their responsibilities as defenders of the Christian faith over the decades. In the midst of all the pomp and pageantry of the State funeral that stretched over a period of 10 days, there were two main reactions to the proceedings. Some could say that the comments, especially those coming from critics, were painstakingly predictable, as if being read off a script.
For the left leaning socialists and communists, this was another obscene and vulgar display of royal excesses and ostentation - a symbol of a dying empire and egregious colonial past, an unnecessary glorification of a non elected leader, which proved to be mortal like the rest of the hoi poloi, an imposition of Western culture (in the form of Christianity) over a more pluralistic world. But for many Christians (Catholics included), the rituals and ceremonies of the funeral of a Protestant monarch filled with medieval symbolism placed one thing in the forefront. God. As the symbols of authority and sovereignty were stripped away from the bier of the queen and as the cameras focused on these objects, we were reminded of this perennial truth - “all things passes, only God remains”.
Today’s feast is meant to have the same effect on us. It places Christ in the forefront. Today, we are asked not to place our attention nor focus on this past year’s accomplishments or even failures, and neither should we admire our trophies or scars, but our eyes should be fixed on the solitary but regal figure hanging on the cross. Condemned as a criminal for a crime He did not commit, a sentence which He could have avoided but didn’t, the King of the Universe performs His last act of kingship - He pardons a criminal and grants this man the reward and honour of paradise.
And it is interesting that when the first World Youth Day was instituted by Pope St John Paul II, he too had this intention in mind. Christ is to be at its centre, to be in the forefront. For many who have witnessed the almost Woodstock-like atmosphere of WYD celebrations, this attention seems odd. But to the young people, with “their questions, their openness, and their hopes,” the Church, the saintly pope said, must communicate “the certainty who is Christ, the Truth who is Christ, the love who is Christ.” This is the reason why Pope Francis announced last year that he was moving the celebration of World Youth Day to this feast of Christ the King: “The centre of the celebration remains the Mystery of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of Man, as Saint John Paul II, the initiator and patron of WYD, always emphasised.”
Let’s go back to the origins of today’s feast to understand its focus. By liturgical standards, today’s feast is relatively recent. It was only inaugurated at the end of 1925, the Jubilee Year which commemorated the anniversary of the First Ecumenical Council in Nicaea in 325 AD. The first ecumenical council defended the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy which sought to dilute it. Now, on its anniversary, there were new issues which sought to dilute the centrality of Christ and His divinity.
At the turn of the twentieth century, the forces of secularism and humanism were advancing while that of the Church retreating. World War 1, described as the Great War or the War to end all wars, had left a devastating trail in Europe and beyond its shores. Pessimism, a sense of helplessness compounded by hatred among the nations, was overwhelming. The time was ripe for the rise of tyrants, and rise they did. Many considered the basics of morality and the teachings of the Church to be out of date, no longer relevant to modern society. Modern thinking allowed that, at most, Christ might be king in the private life of the individual, but certainly not in the public world. Some political regimes advocated the banishment of Jesus altogether, not only from society, but from the family as well.
In all these developments, Pope Pius XI saw that people were denying Christ in favour of a lifestyle dominated by secularism, material advantage and false hope created by the tyrants. Throughout the Jubilee Year of 1925, Pope Pius constantly emphasised the kingship of Christ as declared in the Creed: “His kingdom will have no end.” And so, on Dec. 11 of the jubilee year, as the Jubilee Year drew to a close, and in order to acknowledge perpetually the supremacy of Jesus Christ over all men, nations and earthly allegiances, the pope issued the encyclical Quas Primas, which added the feast of “Our Lord Jesus Christ the King” to the annual Church liturgical calendar.
A century later, this feast continues to speak loudly to our generation. We continue to be plagued by political leaders who wish to arrogate the power of God to themselves, to rewrite the moral rules of what is right or wrong, to take human life as if they were its creator, to dictate rules that would violate the conscience of every man and woman. The Solemnity of Christ the King holds out against these forces and seeks to remind mankind of what true power entails and where true power is to be found.
Pope Emeritus Benedict explains that the power of Christ, who has the cross as His throne and a circle of thorns as His crown, is to be seen in the light of what He has done for us through His sacrifice. The King shows us the true face of power through the powerlessness of the cross. Pope Benedict writes, this power “is not the power of the kings or the great people of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to liberate from evil, to defeat the dominion of death. It is the power of Love that can draw good from evil, that can melt a hardened heart, bring peace amid the harshest conflict and kindle hope in the thickest darkness. This Kingdom of Grace is never imposed and always respects our freedom.”
My dear young people, as the Universal Church celebrates the faith that has been passed on down to you. Know this that as the world lures you with so many attractions which seek to gain your allegiance, there is only One whom you should rightly call Lord and Master. Only One whom you will not surrender your freedom but in which you can gain true freedom. Only One that shows that true power lies in the power of love - in giving, you receive; in dying to yourself you will gain eternal life; in losing all you will gain the greatest treasure of all. Only One who does not only speak Truth but is the truth while others can only offer opinions and lies. Only He alone must be at the front and centre of every decision of yours. Turn to Him and repeat the words of the good thief on the cross: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And we can be sure that His promise will one day be yours too: “today you will be with me in paradise.”
Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
“Snowflake,” according to the ever-reliable Wikipedia, is a “derogatory slang term for a person, implying that they have an inflated sense of uniqueness, an unwarranted sense of entitlement, or are overly-emotional, easily offended, and unable to deal with opposing opinions.” A snowflake listening to today’s ominous warnings and prophecies in the gospel will have a royal meltdown. To a snowflake the slightest perceived offence would sound like a cataclysmic end of the world scenario, an Armageddon of disproportionate size.
But before you react to the words of our Lord, especially the part listing down the various sets of trials, tribulations and calamities, it is good to fast forward to the end of the passage to see the point of His message: “Your endurance will win you your lives.”
Catholics are not to waste time calculating when the end will come. They are not to allow themselves to be misled by false prophets and false messiahs. Nor are they expected to behave like headless chickens running around in circles panicking. Above all, they are to trust in the provident care of God, who will give them eloquence and wisdom to defend themselves and preach the truth. ‘Your endurance will win you your lives.’
As simple and as powerful as this message is, it doesn’t always feel that way. Our penchant for giving up and flying the white flag is so strong, especially when tragedy hits. As you all know, any exposure to the mildest sunlight, even for a few minutes, will cause snowflakes to dissolve into the ground with no resistance. It sometimes feels that every crisis is so catastrophic like it’s the End of the World. This is how the Jews would have felt when their beloved Temple was destroyed by the Romans in the year 70 AD in retaliation for their revolt.
Apparently, the great first century Temple in Jerusalem was a tremendous structure, a suitable tribute to God's greatness and glory, as well as the central symbol of the Jewish nation and their faith. The veil that separated the most sacred inner sanctum from the rest of the Temple complex was adorned with symbols of the cosmos, suggesting that the Temple was literally the centre of the universe. To say that it was worthy of admiration was an understatement. But when our Lord noticed His disciples admiring its grandeur, He had to speak this hard truth: “not a single stone will be left on another: everything will be destroyed.” Despite being sturdily built with reinforced foundations to last centuries if not for eternity, Our Lord knew it would one day fall and its fall would be a cataclysmic event, like the end of the world itself.
However, the Lord also knew that the Temple's destruction would not mean the end of God's creation nor the end of salvation history. So He urged His disciples to bear suffering with hope and patience. His lesson was that all of us suffer, and all of us go through destruction and tearing down. All of us even go through death, but that is not the end. He died Himself, but it was not the end. He was resurrected, and God's creative power began again and the first creation was surpassed by the greater act of redemption.
There may be some signs toward the end. Our Lord famously mentions some of them here and in the other gospels. Signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars, wars and insurrections, earthquakes and the economy. At one level, He could have been speaking of the veil in the Temple with its embroidered cosmic and planetary symbols, the same veil torn into two at His death on the cross. But these signs could also point to something new emerging – the old creation has to be destroyed in order for the new to arise. These signs could indicate cycles of life. Stages of our life inevitably end before another begins. We think it is the end of the world, but it isn’t. Just the end of that particular stage of our world. With the ending of a phase, we enter into a new one. This too was true of the Temple. Its destruction did not mark the end of Judaism but initiated a new phase of belief rooted in faith.
The transition is often painful. Changes hurt. But they are signs that the kingdom of God is near, is very near. When you are encountering the anxiety of any change in your life, be assured that you are not far from God in that experience; He may feel distant and uninvolved in our crisis, but the truth is that He is closer to you than you can ever imagine.
The Church does not stand aloof and far removed from the changes which take place in our lives. The sacraments of Christ administered by the Church have always been associated with changes in our human lives-inevitable changes that most of us go through: birth, illness, marriage, death. In direct association with those changes, the Church provides baptism, anointing with oil, the sacrament of marriage, a funeral. The Church pronounces blessing and grace during those moments of change, painful as well as joyous. At its best, the Church teaches us how to change gracefully. Even the changes in the Church itself can be occasions for our learning grace.
“Everything will be destroyed,” the Lord ominously predicts. And sometimes we can see the signs of that tumult all too quickly. But that will not be the end. God will be in the change. A new beginning can emerge from destruction. And all things will be made new.
Finally, it is in all the changes of our lives, that our very character is formed. Thus, the way we endure change is the way we shape our character, our identity, our very soul. That's why the Lord said what He said about endurance. When we endure change, when we bear change, we gain our identity. In fact, we gain our souls. By your endurance, the Lord said, “will win you your lives”.
Trials "try" us, and tests "test" us. Most of the time, the purpose of trials is to show us who we really are, to reveal character in us. The measure of a man is not how he acts when things go smoothly, but how he acts when he is challenged. We can think all kinds of good thoughts about ourselves, but until we are put to the test, we don't know whether those things have become realities in us or not. We may consider ourselves generous, honest, or deeply committed to a particular truth or ideal, but the depth of these dynamics only reveals itself when we're under pressure. When we go through trials, we learn whether or not we really have the character and commitment we think we have. Test will prove to us whether we are snowflakes or made of sturdier material - hard solid rock that can withstand the heat of pressure and the cold of rejection. Remember, the hardest of diamonds are the product of the greatest pressures. That’s what you are meant to be. That’s who you are.
Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
There is no empirical evidence to show us that there is life after death. Death seems to be the closing curtain on life, marking the end of life’s dramatic performance. Of course, popular genre and anecdotal testimonies tell us that the only way one survives beyond death, beyond the grave is if you return in the form of a ghostly spectre or you are reanimated as a zombie, a walking dead - basically a corpse which continues to have movement.
The idea of the resurrection is such a revolutionary thing, that most people dismiss it, even Christians and many Catholics. In fact, for many, reincarnation seems more plausible, since we all have flashes of déjà vu.
If many find our belief in the resurrection ludicrous, it was equally considered a farce by certain groups of Jews during our Lord’s time - the Sadducees. It was Holy Week when the Sadducees put the Lord to the test and hoped to make a mockery of the topic. Sadducees don’t believe in the resurrection because apart from the Torah, they reject the other books of the canon which contained both prophetic and wisdom literature. References to the resurrection can be found in these other books which they did not accept. So, they tried to make the belief look ridiculous by creating this hypothetical case: A woman has seven husbands, she marries one after the other as each dies. Whose wife will she be in the resurrection?
The Sadducees believed such a situation demonstrated that people will not rise from the dead. Their scenario would make one or all of the brothers guilty of adultery if all of them were living and married to her. The Sadducees would have secretly congratulated themselves that they had trapped the Lord in a theological quandary.
And yet our Lord effortlessly deflects their attack and uses this opportunity to instruct His audience on the nature of death as well as the nature of God. Unlike the Gospel of St Matthew, St Luke does not have our Lord insult His detractors by accusing them of not knowing their scriptures nor the power of God. Our Lord goes immediately into His two-part reply.
First, the Sadducees have wrongly assumed that life in the resurrection would be exactly the same as life in this present world. There will be continuity, but there will be no marriage in the resurrection. We will be like angels, who do not get married. The Sadducees cannot refute the existence of angels because they are frequently mentioned in the Torah.
More importantly, the Sadducees were wrong about the resurrection of the dead because such evidence could even be found in the five books of Moses, the only portion of the Old Testament that the Sadducees used for their theology. Our Lord pointed to the scene of Moses before the burning bush in Exodus 3, as proof for the resurrection, noting that God introduces Himself to Moses as the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.
Implicitly, our Lord argued on the basis of both the verb tense and theology - if death ended the patriarchs' existence, God would have said, "I WAS the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob." God’s use of the present tense implies that they live on to worship Him. Moreover, the Lord always keeps His promises, and His promise to the patriarchs—long life in the Promised Land and descendants as numerous as the stars - can be fulfilled only if they will live forever.
God is the God of the living not only because He is the only God who is alive—the other gods being dead because they do not truly exist as gods—but also because He is the God of the living. God's relationship to His people does not end at their death, for they live on to worship Him in heaven. Because God is the God of the living, we know that all His promises to us will be kept either now, or in the world to come.
The feast of All Saints and the commemoration of All Souls which we celebrated just last week, is an affirmation of this belief. Both feasts remind us of our mortality and also immortality. We are all finite, mortal creatures and death will be our common lot. But we are also uniquely loved by God among all His creatures, and for this reason, He has endowed us with an immortal soul. Our ultimate destiny lies in God’s hands, and even death cannot separate us from His love.
Our belief in the resurrection of the dead, our resurrection, is ultimately tied to the resurrection of the Lord. Believing that the Lord Jesus Christ rose from the dead is essential for Christians. Merely recognising that He died for our sins is not enough; we must accept His resurrection in order to receive Eternal Life. We profess that Christ paid our debt, but His sacrifice on the cross means nothing if He possesses no power over the grave. In vanquishing evil and death, the Lord made our salvation possible. Jesus’ resurrection proved He was able to remove sin and its penalty.
Assuming Christ remained dead would mean accepting the opposite - that believers are still in sin. And the inevitable end of a sinful life is death. Consequently, a person who denies Christ’s eternal nature looks toward a void future. Bertrand Russell, a famous atheistic philosopher, offered this sad description of such hopelessness: “Brief and powerless is man’s life. On his and all his race, the slow sure doom falls, pitiless and dark.”
Instead of enjoying Christian liberty and anticipating a home in heaven, those who reject the resurrection are slaves to the present, with no real hope or meaning in life. This explains why so many are caught in the malaise of despair and hopelessness in our society today. When man no longer believes in the resurrection after death, in redemption after sin, he descends into the pit of meaninglessness. Career, family, and good works can offer brief pleasure but not the kind of joy that comes from knowing we are right with the Lord and working in His will. That is why the belief in the resurrection is not a point for theological debate. Either we believe Christ rose from the dead and ascended to heaven, or we do not. If we reject His victory over the grave, we deny ourselves a place in eternity. But if we accept the truth, Paul assures us that we will be saved.
Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed
There’s something pitiable about the person who lives in exile. To be in a faraway place when your heart is back home can be a severe punishment and a source of discouragement. The closest many of us have been through this experience is when we were sent to our rooms by our parents as punishment or when we were separated from our families and loved ones by thousands of miles due to travel, studies or work. The feeling of homesickness is a clear symptom of someone in exile, but most of us are assured that the feeling will pass because reunion is within reach.
The people of Isaiah’s day, to whom the first reading is addressed, knew that feeling well. Theirs was the plight of the exile. They’re a long way from home, and they have “miles to go before they sleep.” But unlike many of us who are certain of a time when we will be able to return home and reunite with our loved ones, these people who lived in exile were living in the anxiety of an uncertain future. The way home seemed closed and all prospects of reunion appear to have disintegrated. The spectre of living and dying in a foreign land was very real.
For this reason, the prophecy in Isaiah 25 is to them an infinitely consoling song of liberation—an Old Testament Magnificat that anticipates real hope for a bright and glorious future. The hymn breaks into the text unexpectedly, celebrating the end of the humiliation that have befallen the Jews for so long. God is clearly on the move, having subdued the enemies of Israel and having promised to restore them to a place of peace and prominence once again. With God, even the worst exile, which is death, is only temporary. This prophecy celebrates the end of darkness and death for the covenant people.
“On this mountain,
the Lord of hosts will prepare for all peoples a banquet of rich food.
On this mountain he will remove
the mourning veil covering all peoples,
and the shroud enwrapping all nations,
he will destroy Death for ever.
The Lord will wipe away
the tears from every cheek;
he will take away his people’s shame
everywhere on earth,
for the Lord has said so.”
The marvelous truth is that Israel as a nation will rise again from the dead.
As is often the case with Old Testament prophecies, God, the divine Author of scriptures, could see more than the earthly author. It is not difficult to capture glimpses of a greater event and miracle in this passage—the bodily resurrection that awaits all believers at the end of the age. In fact, when Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15:54 that “death is swallowed up in victory,” he’s citing Isaiah 25:8. When John writes in Apocalypse 7:17 that “God will wipe away every tear from their eyes,” and again in 21:4 that God “will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more,” he’s surely alluding to the same prophecy. Isaiah’s original vision exceeds all expectations.
Whereas, the Jews looked to the fulfilment of this prophecy to take place “on this mountain” and saw Mount Zion, on which Jerusalem is built, as its fulfilment, they failed to recognise that the focus of the prophecy is not the “mountain” but the “Lord of Host” who prepares the banquet, destroys death and restores our communion with God. Christ, Our Lord and Saviour, is the fulfilment of that prophecy, as we see in today’s gospel passage. In the story of the widow of Nain who is grieving over the death of her son, the encounter with the Lord Jesus turns the grieving ceremony into a celebration of life and joy, it is He who removes the mourning veil from her, who wipes away her tears, who destroys death and finally restores her son to her. She did not have to ascend the mountain to experience the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy; the mountain, Jesus, had come to her.
On this day when we commemorate all the faithful departed whom we had lost over the years, we do so not with broken hearts nor in hopeless despair. Just as how our Lord commanded the dead son of the widow to rise up, it is our hope and prayer, that our Lord will command all the faithful departed who have died in His peace, to rise up and have a share in His glory won for us on the mountain where He was crucified.
We live as a people of hope because we believe that humanity’s exile to this sin-scarred planet of crime, cruelty, injustice, and death will one day come to an end. Like Israel of old, we may continue to fail and fall in many ways, we will continue to lose our loved ones to death and one day too, we will have to reckon and accept our own mortality, but God is still God, and we can be certain that He will keep His promises:
• He will prepare a feast for His people.
• He will destroy the corpse’s shroud that enfolds us all.
• He will swallow up death forever.
• He will wipe away the tears from our faces.
• And He will remove His people’s disgrace from all the earth.
In other words, death itself will be exiled forever, and the people of God will finally be home. And the authority for such a great hope is that the Lord Himself “has said so”.
Our duty is to continue to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, and we do this, not because they need our prayers but because this is what the Holy Spirit has taught us to do. It is a gift of God, to allow us to share in His work in bringing His people to perfection. Purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God which begun in their lives would be completed. It is the “processing centre” where exiles are prepared for their final homecoming to heaven. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.
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