The Woman who bore God

Solemnity of Mary Mother of God

The first set of visitors to the bedside of the Blessed Virgin Mary after the birth of our Lord would have been most unexpected. Rather than kings or prophets or the aristocratic priestly caste coming to pay homage to the new born King of Kings, the gospel tells us that it was a motley crew of poor shepherds who were the first visitors, a group of people whose profession would have even been looked down by others because of their lowly state and the frequent association of their kind with petty thieves and others who engage in unsavoury work. But this would not be surprising if we knew our Scripture. God Himself had promised to shepherd His people through the prophecies of the prophets of old. So, shouldn’t the first ones to recognise this ominous event be the ones who would be most like this Shepherd King in the flesh? Birds of a feather do indeed flock together!

The Blessed Virgin Mary would have had a sense of this. She did not feel insulted by the presence of these shepherds nor withdraw in fear. She welcomed them and the message of the angels which they brought: “Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord”. And St Luke tells us that “she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.” To ponder and to enter into deep reflexion is one thing, but to “treasure” is on an entirely different level of appreciation.

In that tight space of a hollowed-out cave with little room for anything else than the animals who were stabled there, the Holy Family took refuge and the Word spoken at Creation and who brought the universe into existence was born and laid in a manger, a humble feeding trough for the animals. The space was crowded enough before the arrival of the guests. And yet that space was large enough to house the animals, the Holy Family and the shepherds who had come to worship the Saviour born that day. Once the Virgin Mary contained the Uncontainable, and her womb became more spacious than the heavens, the small grotto of Bethlehem has expanded to such a degree that it now houses true worshippers like the most cavernous basilica! We do not feel cramped here! We may feel cramped at church during the midnight service, but not here.

The Son of God was born on earth, yet He was not separated from heaven. He is babbling like an infant in the arms of His Mother and giving commands to the archangels and angels concurrently. It is precisely for this reason, that we affirm the title of His mother as Mother of God, or in Greek, Theotokos which literally means “God-Bearer,” the one who gave birth to God. This title was solemnly defined by the Council of Ephesus in 431 (although it has been widely used for centuries earlier) to mean that in the person of Jesus Christ, His humanity and divinity are inseparable. Jesus cannot be split up into two parts, one divine and the other human. This means that Mary cannot be simply the mother of the human Jesus without being also, in a genuine sense, the Mother of God.

The first Christians called Mary the “Mother of God” without hesitation. There was scriptural precedent, and it seemed logical. If Jesus was God, and Mary was his mother, then that made her the Mother of God. That sort of logic depends on a principle called the “Communication of Idioms.” According to that principle, whatever one says about either of Christ’s natures, can be truly said of Christ Himself. That’s because His two natures, the divine nature and the human nature, were united in Him. He is one divine person.

In the fifth century, however, some people raised the same objections to the title that many non-Catholics raise today: They argued that the title “Mother of God” implied that Mary was the “originator of God.” Those objectors said that they could accept the title “Mother of Christ,” but not “Mother of God.” At the heart of those objections, however, was an objection to the unity of Christ’s two natures. Mary, they claimed, gave birth only to Christ’s human nature, not His divine nature. The Church, led by Pope Celestine I and St. Cyril of Alexandria, disagreed. As St. Cyril pointed out, a mother gives birth to a person, not a nature. And the bishops at the Council of Ephesus sided with them and rejected the duality of natures proposed by Nestorius and his camp who could not come around to call Mary Mother of God.

Accordingly, Mary gave birth to Jesus Christ, who was and is a divine person. Although Mary did not “originate” or “generate” God, she did bear Him in her womb and give birth to Him. Mary did not give Jesus His divine nature or His divine personhood—those He possessed from all eternity as the only begotten Son of the Father. But she also didn’t just give Him His flesh: She gave birth to the whole person. She gave birth to Jesus Christ, both God and man. For this reason, we should not hesitate to acknowledge that Mary was God’s mother.

So, as we continue to spend time in prayer and meditation at the Christmas creche to honour the Saviour of the World, let us not forget His mother who stands watchful by His side. Together, with her, let us treasure all these things and ponder them in our hearts.

A Sweet Yoke of Harmony

Solemnity of the Holy Family

One of the most iconic Catholic traditions of Christmas is the Christmas crèche, or the nativity scene. This year marks the 800th anniversary of the first crèche which was erected in the year 1223 by none other than St Francis of Assisi. St Francis’ pioneering crèche featured real animals and a real family, not resin or plastic figurines. The crèche was St Francis’ attempt at bringing Bethlehem to our doorsteps as it was no longer safe for pilgrims to make a journey to the Holy Land to visit the holy shrines. You may agree that this year seems to feel like déjà vu, especially for those who had planned to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land this year or the next, only to find their plans cancelled or changed due to the outbreak of war in Israel. So, rest assured. Even if you cannot experience the Holy Land physically, you have a chance to experience it liturgically during the season of Christmas… or in your homes.

The Christmas crèche is not like any other Christmas decoration. In fact, it’s not meant to be a decoration. It is a prayer corner. Here, we are invited to prayerfully contemplate the various figurines contained within the scene, the members of the Holy Family at its very heart and centre. And so, we see the humble figures of Mary and Joseph kneeling before the manger gazing lovingly upon their newborn son, the Son of Mary, the Son of God. One could say that this must be one of the most ancient family portraits. The whole scene reaffirms two wonderful truths. The first reminds us of God’s immense trust for this couple, that He would deign it fitting to entrust His only Son to two human beings, a woman and a man, wife and husband. The second is that if a family was the cause of humanity’s downfall, another family would be at the heart of humanity’s redemption.

Joseph and Mary’s family life were far from ordinary or even ideal, by modern standards. The beginnings of their married and family life were already marked by disastrous omens – a suggestion of conception out of wedlock, the threat of divorce, dislocation and homelessness, economic poverty and to top it all - a hostile environment that posed the greatest threat to both the safety and welfare of the couple and their newborn child. In today’s world, all these would be interpreted as unfavourable factors that would warrant either delaying the marriage, postponing the start of a family, calling it quits or even justify the abortion of the foetus within the womb. In fact, it would take much less these days to justify any of the above actions. But something amazing took place. Instead of turning their backs on each other and on the child, Mary’s fiat and Joseph’s acceptance of the Incarnation – indeed the man and woman’s loving obedience to God’s will, triumphed at the end. Their love for God, which outweighed self-interests and societal pressures, served as the wellspring for their own steadfast love and provided a rich sanctuary for the Christ Child.

Mary and Joseph were both significant and necessary influences in the life of Jesus – a child needs both his father and his mother. Mary and Joseph remained side-by-side, nurturing and protecting the Son of God as He “grew in wisdom.” Yet Scripture hints that they are asked to play distinctive roles. Mary watches and listens to all the wondrous events that accompany the birth of her Son. After the visit of the shepherds and Magi, we see the natural contemplative in the person of Mary who “treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart.” Joseph, for his part, receives messages from angels, who direct him to take action to protect his family. His readiness and courage to respond immediately without hesitation proved his manliness and reaffirmed his paternal qualities. Joseph was never the absent father. His humility shines forth through his willingness to be obedient to God’s will. In Joseph, we understand that truly “being a Man”, is not doing it “my way,” but always obedient to ‘God’s ways.’

Thus, these figures assembled in the Nativity scene, call us back not only to the mystery of the Incarnation, to the joyous event of Christmas, but to the very origins of creation itself. We come to recognise that the crown of God’s creation after He set in place all fixtures and wonders of the universe is not just man alone, but a man, both male and female, made in the image of God, and entrusted with the first commandment to come together in marriage and to form a family. What does it mean, though, that man as male and female has been created in the image and likeness of God? This simple verse in the Bible affirms that both male and female, while fully equal as the image of God, are nonetheless distinct in the manner of their possession of the image of God. This is what we call the complementarity of man and woman. Therefore, family itself becomes a sign that points to the very wellspring of love, the Holy Trinity – One God in Three Persons. The family is an icon of the Most Holy Trinity.

The necessity of celebrating such a feast where the family is the focus is more apparent today when we consider how counter cultural marriage and family life have become. Contemporary culture is challenging the most vital aspects of the existence of the human being, in ways that go so far as to overturn our understanding of human nature, and particularly of human sexual identity and relations between the sexes. Contemporary culture is proposing and imposing models for sexual identity and relations between the sexes that would ultimately mean redefining marriage and the family, to the extent of destroying both. Contemporary culture cannot accept that man is made in the image and likeness of God. Contemporary culture has no place for God and His kind. Man must be his own god, or nothing else matters. For this reason, contemporary society has no place for the traditional family because the family and the mutual obligations of its members remind our society of God and His demands of us.

Today, with the Holy Family as our model, we must reaffirm once again that the complementarity of man and woman is at the root of marriage, not prideful autonomy, not self-serving motives seeking to satisfy one’s personal happiness. Thus, when we arbitrarily decide to take either the man, husband and father, or woman, wife, and mother out of the equation of marriage and family, it would have destructive consequences. For the Incarnation to take place, for the Word to take flesh, the Son of God must have a human father and human mother. In the human family of Joseph and Mary, we see again how God brings the Divine into the human realm.

The Blessed Virgin Mary and St Joseph, the woman and man who wait before the manger in our homes and in our churches, affirm the beauty of this daily path of married love — this school of virtue — and they testify against “the culture of the temporary,” which Pope Francis said, has wreaked the most havoc in poor communities. Therefore, the feast we celebrate today is so important to reaffirm once again the beautiful original plan of God at creation, a plan that is not subject to the fleeting changes of fad and fashion, precisely because God had “forged the covenant of marriage as a sweet yoke of harmony and an unbreakable bond of peace” (Preface for Marriage). In the nuptial blessings contained in the Wedding liturgy, we are comforted by the promise that the blessings endowed by God on marriage and family life is “not forfeited by original sin nor washed away by the flood.” May the Nativity figures of the Blessed Virgin Mary, St Joseph and the Christ Child in our little prayer corner inspire us to foster and embrace the distinctive gifts we share in our marriages and families and spur us to help others, especially families in crisis, see their own salvation in the steadfast love of the Holy Family.

In the Beginning

Christmas Mass During the Day

Catholics attending this Mass or a later mass today are often surprised by the Gospel reading. There doesn’t seem to be anything Christmasy about this Christmas Day gospel reading. There is no mention of a manger, a stable, shepherds, of Magi, of angels, of Bethlehem or, very surprisingly, of Mary and Joseph. If you came last night, you would not have been disappointed. But this morning’s Gospel starts in a manner which doesn’t seem to be in synch with the season: "In the beginning was the Word," and it continues to speak only of the Word of God. So why is this a Christmas Gospel reading?

Up until the liturgical reforms of the post-Vatican II era, the Prologue of St John’s Gospel, the text we just heard was and is still proclaimed at the very end of every Traditional Latin Mass, thereby earning for itself the misnomer ‘the Last Gospel.’ According to one source, the Last Gospel was inserted here to counter the heresy (prevalent among clergy at the time of its introduction) of denying the Incarnation, and therefore the divinity of Jesus Christ. It was to assure the congregation that the priest who had celebrated Mass was not a heretic and thus the Mass was valid. Phew! The priest by reading this passage publicly attests to the orthodoxy of his faith. Whatever may have been the original reason for its insertion, it is a beautiful paradox that the Last Gospel of the Mass takes us back to the beginning, for it opens with the words "In the beginning."

The tradition of reading the prologue on Christmas Day has survived the liturgical reform. Though the practice of reading the Last Gospel at the end of mass has been discontinued, it did serve the purpose of climaxing every celebration with the compelling and beautiful truth of the Incarnation, the dogma that speaks of the act and decision of the Second Person of the Trinity, the Son of God, becoming man – the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. The prologue situates the Christmas story outside the confines of human history. In fact, it provides for the words and works of the Incarnate Word an eternal background or origin and proceeds to proclaim His divinity and eternity. He who "became flesh" in time, is the Word Himself from all eternity. He is the only begotten Son of God "who is in the bosom of the Father." He is the Son "consubstantial with the Father," He is "God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God." He is the Word "through whom everything was made”… “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.”

This focus on the Incarnation and the Divinity of Christ reminds us that we are not celebrating the birthday of a celebrity, or a great hero, or a sagely guru, or an illustrious prophet. We are celebrating the birth into human history of the Divine and Eternal Word, the Son of God, the One from whom and in whom all things were made. "The Son of God became man", St Athanasius explains, "in order that the sons of men, the sons of Adam, might become sons of God.” With all the gift-giving, merry making, commercialisation of our feast, it is quite easy to forget this very central truth.

While our culture is very open to the likes of Superman, Thor, Spider-man and other “super-beings” who are fictional, it is ironic that man regards the Incarnation, the fact of an Omnipotent God choosing to become mortal, a strange and unbelievable idea. There has been increased hostility and opposition to the biblical doctrine of the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ, and consequently the rejection of His divinity. In history there have been those who have sought to sacrifice either the deity of Christ (e.g. the Ebionites) or remove His humanity (e.g. the Docetists). In modern times, there has been a bold attack on the doctrine of the incarnation. The great quest of liberal theology has been to invent a Jesus who is stripped of all supernatural power, deity, and authority. They are not reinterpreting traditional Christology. They are simply abandoning it.

The doctrine of the Incarnation is central to a Christian celebration of Christmas, a truth that is currently under attack. The doctrine of the Incarnation is one which is vital to the Christian faith because other doctrines will stand or fall with it. We cease to be Christians the moment we deny that Jesus is God. Our believe that He is God sets us apart from other religions.

Perhaps the best way to underscore the importance of the doctrine of the Incarnation is to consider the price for putting it aside. Nowhere is it more beautifully and succinctly articulated than in the Catechism of the Catholic Church which lays down these various reasons for the Incarnation thus pointing to its central significance:

· The Word became flesh for us in order to save us (CCC 457).

· The Word became flesh so that thus we might know God’s love (CCC 458).

· The Word became flesh to be our model of holiness (CCC 459)

· Finally, the Word became flesh to make us ‘partakers of the divine nature.’ (2 Peter 1:4)

Can we truly celebrate Christmas and at the same time deny both the humanity and the divinity of Christ? The answer to that question must be a decisive ‘No’. Those who reject these truths empty our celebration of its essential content – Christmas is not just a celebration of the birthday of our founder, a sentimental reason for gathering as a family, an occasion for gift-giving and carolling, a cultic act to proclaim the legendary charity of Ole St Nicholas. For us Christians, Christmas must always be a celebration affirming our belief in both the divinity and humanity of Jesus Christ. He is fully God and fully Man. The Incarnation does not stand alone as a doctrine that can be severed from the rest. On the contrary, it is an irreducible part of the revelation about the person and work of Jesus Christ. With it, the Gospel stands or falls.

It is often the case that we are invited to admire the humility of our Lord Jesus Christ as He chose to be born in the spartan conditions of a cave or stable in Bethlehem. But this morning’s liturgy also invites us to humbly kneel in adoration before the One who chose to kneel before His disciples to wash their feet. It’s time to rescue this Feast of Christmas from all that sentimental sugar coating. It is the Feast by which we affirm once again our belief in His divinity. Together with Pope Benedict, we affirm that our “Faith is simple and rich: we believe that God exists, that God counts; but which God? A God with a face, a human face, a God who reconciles, who overcomes hatred and gives us the power of peace that no one else can give us.”

A Hidden Christmas

Christmas Mass in the Night

When Christmas comes around every year, the child-like love for all that glitter, the glamour and the warm fuzzy feel-good exuberance of this season is reignited. It’s really hard to hide our excitement. But it often seems that the Church is constantly reminding us of the need to observe the penitential nature of Advent, to tone down our celebrations, and to reject the commercial agenda of Xmas. At times, it does seem that the Church, in a Grinch like way, sadistically enjoys taking the fun out of Christmas. Sigh …

We can’t entirely blame the commercial and secular world for having hijacked Christmas and taken Jesus Christ, the real star of this celebration, off-stage. Perhaps, the real problem lies with us being unable to uncover the real Christmas, the Hidden Christmas.

Our Christmas is indeed hidden from view. This is because the Kingdom of God, as the parable goes, is like a treasure hidden in the field, it is hidden in order that it may be found. It’s the story of how God leaves obvious and apparent clues, a bread crumb trail, in order for us to find Him. His mission is not to obscure, but to reveal. Our real but hidden Christmas, is located in a grotto (the Cave), not displayed on billboards, broadcasted on televisions or on the internet or at the malls. There is no fame or celebrity in the Nativity of Christ. There is no headline news to herald the event. It would not have trended on social media. No one would have created TikTok videos or blogged about the Christ Child. Your GPS would not have tracked the Wise Men. Neither would the astronomical department or national space agency, have paid any attention to the Bethlehem Star except as a discovery of a new constellation or the occurrence of a supernova. To the public whose vision is as blind as their faith, its real meaning lies hidden.

Our Christmas secret is that the Son of God chose to be born in obscurity. God hides in the cave of Bethlehem for a reason. For thousands of years, the mystery was kept hidden under a veil of shadows and vague dreams. But on Christmas night, God chose to reveal this secret to the world. He revealed the plan for the liberation and redemption of humanity, freedom from the oppression of sin and death, His blueprint of rescuing mankind from the clutches of Satan. But His revelation took place within the hidden recesses of a cave, in an obscure little village of Bethlehem, at a moment that went unnoticed, except to a few. Why would God choose to reveal Himself in the hidden mystery of the cave? Why shepherds? Why would God choose to make His most spectacular announcement to a group least able to comprehend its most profound meaning or suffer the lack of means to spread it?

The birth of Jesus in such stark simplicity is not an accident. Jesus chose to be born in those circumstances to show us who God is. The Christian God is not a distant much less an absent God, but a God who is present in history and who cares for and directs history. The world expects a powerful domineering God to make a showy celebrity-styled entrance. They are expecting a transcendental God who must always come from the outside. But the God of Love actually came from a different direction: God is no outsider, God is Emmanuel, He is with us, through the Incarnation, God has always been an insider. Jesus Christ was born in the secrecy of the cave to reveal the fact that the Son of God is offered as a gift – just like how all gifts are wrapped up, waiting to be opened and to surprise us - but it is a gift that can be opened only at our deepest self, where we are the poorest, the weakest and most vulnerable...where we are who we really are. That is why the lowly shepherds were able to discern His coming, and not those who consider themselves in the thick of things, those in power, those who have all the answers.

For it is only those who are at the bottom of the social ladder, the dregs of society, those beaten, defeated and termed failures, those considered mad, who would understand and appreciate the real meaning of God’s condescension in the Incarnation. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, descended from infinite transcendence into our broken-up tiny little darkness. He brought His divinity to bear upon our humanity by uniting both in His very person. In Himself He gathers up the alienated fragments of the human race, the broken pieces of ourselves; broken by our violence, our desperations, our addictions and despondencies, our hopeless biographies. In His own Person, He meticulously puts the pieces back together again. And He does this in the secret cave - the cave where no one is rich and self-sufficient, where no one is powerful, where no one is famous nor can demand privilege. It is a cave too small for the likes of kings and those who prefer more sanitary conditions, but large enough to house those who are aware of their very own littleness in the presence of the Incarnate God of Love.

Yes, it is necessary that God hides from us, so that our dependence is not built upon an experience of Him but rather, our dependence is placed strictly on Him and Him alone. The spartan poverty of the cave is a gift to us: it allows us to consolidate our brokenness, our woundedness, our failure, our insecurities and slavish fears and allow all these to be transformed into a blessing of incomprehensible value. And when we have little left of our presumptuous self-sufficiency and pretentious intelligence, then we can see the world anew. God may be hidden from the world, but for the Christian, He is apparent to behold.

We see hiding in our Christmas tree, the story of salvation unfolding from the moment of Adam and Eve’s Fall for having eaten the forbidden fruit (the baubles) after placing their trust in the words of the serpent (the curling tinsels) instead of the promises of God. But the tree is also the gibbet on which our Saviour hung and died, thus transforming the curse into a blessing. We see in it the promise of eternal life, for through the sacrifice of Christ on the branches of the cross, the tree that poisoned us and which sentenced us to death, has been transformed into the Tree of Life, which yields fruits that provide the antidote to death, and from it flows the sweet elixir of immortality. In Santa Claus, we recognise the figure of Christ, who bountifully rewards us with his blessings and the great gift of salvation and who will come at the end of time to judge us and he will know whether we’ve been naughty or nice. In the carols we belt out and hear over the radio, we hear that great Christmas proclamation resounding once again, that “a Saviour has been born to you, He is Christ the Lord!” Yes, our Christmas is hidden, but not to those with eyes of faith to see through the patterns and symbols of this season.

Let us go meet Him, you and me, and adore Him who alone is worthy of our praises. Let us be whole again. Let us be brother and sister again. Let us rejoice in the knowledge of this great and divine, splendid Secret, this Hidden Christmas and broadcast it to the world. Let us shout it from the housetops, above the darkness, above the noisy and often angry cacophony of a world gone blind and deaf, that Jesus Christ is born! “A Saviour has been born to you, He is Christ the Lord!”

There can be no Christmas without Mary

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year B

When most people are asked, when does the Church commemorate this momentous event in salvation history where the Uncreated Word became flesh, the most common answer would be: “Christmas!” Christmas is the feast of the Incarnation. But I guess most people, especially in this day and age when abortion is widely promoted in many countries, we have forgotten that life does not begin at birth but at the conception of a person. One could choose to deny this on ideological grounds because it is inconvenient and challenges our selfish motives, but this truth is irrefutable when we witness a convergence of biology and theology which affirms this truth.

So, on this last Sunday of Advent, and in fact for this year at least, the last day of Advent, before we transition into the Christmas cycle this evening, the Church’s lectionary provides us with this beautiful gospel passage which narrates the Annunciation of the Archangel Gabriel to the Blessed Virgin Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ. The connexion between these two events - the moment of conception and the moment of birth - could not be made any clearer with the juxtaposition of these two events. The Feast of the Annunciation which the Church celebrates on the 25th of March is as much the Feast of the Incarnation as it could be said of Christmas.

A cursory reading of both the first reading and the gospel will let you see how the prophecy of Nathan to King David in the Old Testament that his house and sovereignty will always stand secure and his throne be established for ever, is being fulfilled in the story of the Annunciation, as explained by the Archangel Gabriel: “The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.”

In Hebrew, there is no specific word for a king’s palace or the Temple of God. The palace of the king is simply described as the King’s house as the temple is God’s house. So, the idea of “house” is deliberately ambiguous when spoken in reference to David as it could refer to both the dynastic line of David or to the palace in which he lives. Furthermore, in the first reading we see an ironic reversal in that God promises to establish a house for David even as David promises to build a house for God, an offer which God declines. David, ashamed that he was now living in an opulent “house,” would not allow God to suffer the humiliation of occupying a nomad’s tent. He thought to honour God by building God a house fitting for His glory and dignity. But God reminds David that since God has provided the latter with all the essentials of accommodation, God Himself is in no need of a human dwelling. No human hands can build a house that is ultimately suitable for God save for one that is built by God Himself. Even King David acknowledges this in Psalm 127: “unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labour in vain.”

Mary is indeed the house of God, not built by human hands but shaped and created by God Himself. Our Eastern brethren pays her the greatest honour by describing her as the one “made more spacious than the heavens” or in Greek, “Playtera ton ouranon.” The Universe we know about is mind-bogglingly big. Yet, we recognise that God is far greater than that. The universe, for all its vastness, remains finite. God, on the other hand, is infinite! But here is the great mystery we celebrate today – God who could not be contained in His created universe chose to be contained in the tiny womb of this human being. Thus, we call Our Lady “more Spacious than the Heavens” because she held in her womb Him who holds the whole universe. She succeeds where the whole universe fails.

The veil which separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Temple Complex was embroidered with symbols of the cosmos, in a way indicating that the temple was a microcosm of the universe, the house of God. When the veil was torn in two on Good Friday at our Lord’s death, it was symbolically the end of the cosmos as we know it. During the time of our Lord’s birth, the temple was already an empty husk, the ark of the covenant, the throne of God, had already been lost during the Babylonian invasion and the first destruction of the Temple. Furthermore, in the mystical vision of the prophet Ezekiel, the shekinah, or God’s visible glory, had already departed. But here, we see the glory of God, the Holy Spirit and the power of the Most High will once again overshadow the “house” of God, not the Temple but Mary - she who is the ark of the new covenant, she who is more spacious than the universe.

So, on the eve of the day we commemorate how the Author and Creator of the Universe entered into our created universe as a child, it is fitting that the Church reminds us of how this happened. It was not by accident, nor is the instrument by which this occurred insignificant. Without Mary’s fiat to the Archangel Gabriel, we would not be celebrating Christmas. There is no Christmas without Mary.

Mary is indeed a cosmos to herself with Christ as its solar centre. Mary is indispensable to the story of salvation and the story of Christmas because without her, Christ’s birth could not have taken place. The pre-existent Word could not have become flesh if not for her fiat. Christ could not have been born without her free consent. The Mother of God, she who is “made more spacious than the heavens,” stands between the heavens and the earth and serves as a bridge between. Let us therefore ascend to the heavenly heights and enter into the Holy of Holies. Let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, the Heavenly Jerusalem, for Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the true House of God has already bridged what was previously impassable. Through her co-mediation, she has allowed us to approach what was previously unapproachable and to comprehend what was previously incomprehensible. Let us take her hand as she leads us to the manger and beyond to the cross.

Rejoice! Indeed the Lord is near!

Third Sunday of Advent Year B

As that 60s Christmas song claims, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year.” But is it? It is true that for most people, there are many reasons to revel in the season - the exhilaration of Christmas shopping and carolling, the excitement of receiving gifts, partaking in family reunions, enjoying year-end holidays and taking the necessary break from work and school. But it can also be the season that creates much stress, anxiety and even depression. When more is expected, there can be more reasons to fail. Add to this natural predilection for disappointment and failure would be a global inflation gone out of control, a country with an uncertain and worrying political future, two major conflicts threatening to escalate into another world war.

Against this tide, not just a tide but a tsunami of despair, today’s liturgy shouts out this refrain: “Rejoice! Exult for Joy! Be happy at all times!” Our senses seem to want to shout back: “What’s there to be joyful about?” “Is the Church blind?”

And yet on this Sunday, the Church’s liturgy demands that we rejoice: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice!” These words are a paraphrase of the passage from St Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians which we heard as our second reading. Indeed, the Third Sunday of Advent is called “Gaudete Sunday.” “Gaudete” is the Latin word meaning ‘rejoice.’

What joy can there be in the midst of so much pain, suffering, gloom and darkness? It is certainly not the joy that emerges from some false optimism on our part that things are going to get better – too often, we can attest to this, things in fact get worse. Neither is it the joy that comes from creating an illusory world in our minds where pain and suffering is denied. So, what is this joy which the readings are speaking of? So, why should we be happy, and be happy “at all times,” albeit in good times or bad, in sickness or in health? St Paul tells us that this rejoicing is required of us simply “because this is what God expects you to do in Christ Jesus.” And the Church adds in her liturgy, “Indeed, the Lord is near.” The answer lies in Christ. True lasting joy is found only with God in Christ.

We are called to rejoice, because the Lord is coming – He is coming to save us, to liberate us, and to give us new life. Many of us may be experiencing some form of darkness in our lives. We find ourselves in the midst of problems without any apparent solution. We see ourselves ‘captives’ of our difficult circumstances, there seems to be no way out. Our hearts may be broken because of rejection or we have been hurt by the actions and words of others. We see ourselves poor, hungering and thirsting for friendship, understanding and a sense of belonging. Some of us find ourselves trapped in the darkness of sin.

If we see ourselves in any of these situations, rejoice and be glad, because the readings promise good news. This is the promise of God, as St. Paul tells us in the second reading: “God has called you and He will not fail you.” God is always faithful. God keeps His promise. God will not fail you. And what is this promise? The prophet Isaiah announces that the coming of the Lord’s anointed messenger will mean healing and liberation to all who are poor, broken-hearted, oppressed, and captive. The Good News is that which is announced by John the Baptist in the gospel – the Anointed One has come - Jesus has come – He is the Light of the World – and He is waiting to enter into your hearts and into your lives once again.

Therefore, we Christians anticipate the End Times not with fear and trembling, but with rejoicing. St Paul reminds us in the second reading, “Be happy at all times, pray constantly, and for all things give thanks.” Like the prophet Isaiah in the first reading, the thought of the “end times,” of Christ’s coming, should be met with euphoria, “I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God!”

Sometimes we have an image of John the Baptist as an austere ascetic. In depicting the Baptist in this fashion, we tend to forget the joy that is associated with his entire life and vocation. It was him who leapt for joy in his mother Elizabeth’s womb when she encountered the Mother of the Word Incarnate. In the fourth Gospel, St John speaks of the source of the Baptist’s supernatural joy - it is the joy of the best man, who rejoices greatly at hearing the bridegroom’s voice. And thus, his humility opened a space within him for true joy, the kind which comes from the real presence of the Lord. So it can be, for each one of us.

Thus, John stands as a sign for us today on Gaudete Sunday. He points out for each one of us the path to lasting joy, not just a forgery or a fading type of joy. We should imitate his lifestyle of self-emptying – a life marked by humility – we prepare for the coming of the Lord by always holding on this basic principle that defined the Baptist’s life and mission, “He must increase and I must decrease.” Despite the difficulties he encountered, the harshness and austerity of his life, his imprisonment and execution at the hands of a local tyrant, John understood that as his own light dimmed and faded, another light was coming, the true light was coming to illuminate the darkened world and cast aside the shadows of sin. The Baptist only caught a glimpse of the first glimmer of light before the sunrise. We, on the other hand, have the privilege of knowing and witnessing that sunrise at Easter. We can, therefore, know no lasting peace and joy, unless we come to know Christ, the true Light of the World, and allow the light of His grace to transform us.

So, this Sunday, Gaudete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday, becomes another opportunity to be joyful, indeed it is a joy that is greater than it was in the days of the prophet Isaiah or in the days of John the Baptist. What they could only envision in a time of prophecy, we now experience in a time of reality. In just a matter of days we will celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of the Lord. But we do not just commemorate the past. The Liturgy anticipates the future, the coming of our Saviour, our Liberator, the Christ who will bring to completion the good work He has begun in us. For this reason, Holy Mother Church commands us in the imperative – “Rejoice”! Notice that this is a command, not a suggestion. “Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, gaudete: Dominus prope est.” “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Indeed the Lord is near!”

Console my people

Second Sunday of Advent Year B

When you are grieving, feeling lost and confused, you would most likely look to others for comfort and consolation - a word of affirmation, a reassurance of friendship and support, a warm hug or gentle touch to remind us that we are not alone. St Ignatius of Loyola also used the movements of consolation and desolation as the foundational tools for his primary spiritual exercise, which is the discernment of spirits. But Ignatius defines these terms in a very specific way, that is different to their common usage.

You may find it surprising that both consolation and its antonym, desolation, share a common root in Latin - “Sol” which means the Sun. So, consolation is literally with or towards the Sunlight, whereas desolation means away from the Sun - darkness. The latter makes more sense as we often equate our experience of desolation with darkness, the feeling where all light in our lives have been put out. So, consolation is facing or turning to the light and desolation is facing or turning away from the light. This makes so much sense with Ignatius’ definitions of these words.

Looking towards God’s light, the effect on the person’s spirit is ‘warming’, uplifting, positive. Looking away from the light, one is in one’s own shadow, the pitch-black darkness staring back at us when we attempt to look into the depths of our souls. To Ignatius, the task in desolation is not to try and find the way and chart a new course of direction, but to turn towards the light.

This is how we should consider the prophetic words of Isaiah, our Advent prophet, in the first reading. The reading begins with God’s instruction to Isaiah: “console my people, console them.” God is not just asking Isaiah to give His people some cheap form of consolation - a spiritual bear hug, nor is He asking Isaiah to provide them with some empty assurance -“don’t worry. Things will get better.” Many of us have been guilty of doing this when we are faced with people in pain who are hurting.

God, instead, is asking Isaiah to remind the people that their sentence for their sins, which is the 70 years of humiliating exile in Babylon, has come to an end. Their “prison term” is over and they will be released soon because their sins have been atoned and forgiven. This prolonged period of desolation, a period where they have been deprived of the light of God which shone on their land and the Temple, would soon be replaced by a period of consolation. The light is returning, the dark night would soon be over, they will be able to bask in the sunlight of God’s graces and mercy. The Lord is returning as a victorious King and a loving Shepherd who will hold His people tightly to His breast in a loving embrace.

The prophecy of Isaiah would only be partially fulfilled during the time of the return of the people from exile. Instead of a lush and rich land, they would encounter a barren wilderness where all traces of their glorious past civilisation had been erased by their enemies. Instead of the imposing Temple of Jerusalem, God’s seat and foothold on earth, they would only see ruins and rubble, mirroring their own lives which had to be rebuilt from scratch. Many would have wondered how the words of Isaiah’s prophecy, the promises of God, could have applied to them. Would they need to wait longer? How long?

This too is the experience of many of us. When faced with one setback or another, we often pray for and look for a break. Many lose faith when God seems slow in acting and answering their prayer. This is why the words of St Peter in the second reading, provide us with a clue as to the reason why God sometimes appears to delay in acting: “The Lord is not being slow to carry out his promises, as anybody else might be called slow; but he is being patient with you all, wanting nobody to be lost and everybody to be brought to change his ways.” What seems to be a delay is not caused by God being slow! It is because He is patient with us, waiting for us to repent and change our ways.

Israel had to wait in twilight and darkness for many centuries. And finally, the gospel announces the first hint of dawn, and it comes in the mysterious figure of this wild like character crying out in the wilderness. Just as heralds in ancient times would go before their liege to announce the imminent arrival of the king, St John the Baptist prepares the way of the Lord by announcing a message of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. This is it! The true secret of attaining consolation is found in repentance. Repentance is the door that leads from darkness to light, from despondency to hope, from tragedy to opportunity, from the pit of despair to the heights of joy.

Despite knowing this to be true, many of us continue to wait and this is where Advent is a season for us who experience the darkness of desolation. What must we do? What can we do as we await for the sun to break through the clouds? Once again, we turn to St Paul for guidance. He writes: “So then, my friends, while you are waiting, do your best to live lives without spot or stain so that he will find you at peace.”

Even as God wishes to console us with the message of hope and peace, He continues to permit moments of darkness in our lives. Why would He do this? The truth is that God works deep in our lives to transform our deepest sorrow into an abiding joy. Suffering, sorrow, pain and grieving may seem like an eternity. Those who have lost their loved ones will cringe whenever they are told by well-intentioned friends and family, to “get over it” or “find closure” or just “move on.” But it only takes a moment alone, or a memory, or a memorabilia to trigger a torrent of heart-breaking tears. As much as it is difficult to believe, we are assured that this will only “last a moment.” The flip side is grace, God’s favour. This, however, will not just last a lifetime but for eternity. What are months and years of mourning and grieving in comparison to an incalculable eternity of joy. Juxtaposed, we realise that our moments of anguish and darkness are fleeting in the light of God’s eternal favour and grace.

Sometimes we need to view our lives through a mirror. In our sorrow, we learn to appreciate joy. In our loss, we discover how much we have gained. Death reflects the sacredness and fragility of life. In the night of tears, we come to long for the dawn of joy. C. S. Lewis was right. Joy often comes as a surprise. It invades the most sorrowful spaces. It reminds us that beauty and goodness and life can grow, even in the most unpromising soil. Joy does not mean the absence of pain or sorrow. Rather, joy is often begotten in the purifying fire of the crucible of love, especially the love of God which is boundless and eternal. That my friends, is our true consolation.

Stay awake

First Sunday of Advent Year B

I’m a light sleeper. The slightest disturbance, faintest noise, or tiniest sliver of light would usually awaken me. Perhaps, I am suffering from what doctors call “exploding head syndrome”, imagined loud noises in my head when I am transitioning from consciousness to sleep. Or maybe, I’m just wired to expect the Lord’s unexpected arrival, as He Himself had warned: “So stay awake, because you do not know when the master of the house is coming, evening, midnight, cockcrow, dawn; if he comes unexpectedly, he must not find you asleep.”

But let’s be honest, staying awake for most of us can be exhausting. We need our rest. We need to sleep. We need to regenerate. We have seasons of excitement and whole-hearted devotion, and we have seasons where we fall asleep, even in church. And for many, the homily is as good a time to sleep as any. Perhaps, even the most ideal moment. But today, our Lord issues the warning that we should “Stay awake”, or else suffer the dire consequences of our lack of vigilance. And being caught by the priest is the least of your concerns. Life is short so stay awake for it.

The same requests from the Lord would be made on the night of His betrayal, on the eve of His crucifixion and death. In the garden of Gethsemane, our Lord was deep in prayer, anguished by the “cup” of suffering He was about to drink. He took His inner circle of disciples (Peter, James and John) with Him and told them to “remain here and watch.” Then, while the Lord was in agonising prayer, His closest companions couldn’t stay awake. Three times the Lord returned from praying to find His disciples falling asleep. Three times the Lord orders them to “stay awake.” Three times His disciples fell asleep. It may be some weak consolation in knowing that the Apostles were not immune from dozing off on the job. One could only imagine the frustration and disappointment of the Lord.

Of course, the Lord was talking about more than just avoiding falling asleep while praying. He was giving instruction about our spiritual readiness for His coming. With the repetitive command to stay awake, our Lord spoke to all His disciples throughout the ages, including our generation, about the need to remain alert. I think for us it can become easy to lose our spiritual edge and focus. It is easy to grow complacent, lazy and careless. It doesn’t take much of a lapse in alertness to become desensitised to the spiritual reality upon us by the pseudo-comforting distractions around us. Staying awake spiritually involves looking past the clamour of worldly attractions. It’s about perceiving the presence of the kingdom of heaven growing up quietly and silently after the seeds have been scattered in the garden. It’s about resisting the cultural malady of practical atheism – living as if God did not exist or even if we were to accept that He did, it did not matter in our lives. This is what Advent is meant to accomplish for us - to transform us from spiritual sleepy heads to vigilant stewards, always alert and ready for the master’s return. The question left to consider is how: how can we stay awake?

First, we need to take the words of Christ seriously that He is returning. Many don’t believe in the Parousia, in the return of the Lord. Many believe that this is a bogey man invented by the Church to scare her members into submission. Many leave without giving serious thought that there would be a Day of Judgment, a day where we will be called to account for our actions and decisions. To stay awake means to listen to the Lord and His warning and to take Him seriously at His word.

Second, the Apostle Paul tells us to pray without ceasing. This was the Lord’s exhortation to His disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus tells us to “watch and pray.” If we are to stay awake in the midst of a world in a spiritual stupour, then we need to be diligent in prayer. No wonder Paul advises to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17). In fact, we should be constantly praying for the Lord’s Second Coming as we do whenever we pray the Lord’s Prayer: “thy kingdom come, thy will be done!” There must be urgency in this prayer as Isaiah expressed with these powerfully vivid words: “tear the heavens open and come down!”

Third, staying awake means faithfulness and commitment to the task that has been placed before us. The second parable in today’s gospel reminds us that readiness is measured by people diligently doing their job. The wisest ones are those who consistently try to seek and serve their Lord at every moment of every day. The familiar Advent message to ‘stay awake’ invites us to live humanly to the best of our ability, continuing to do the necessary mundane things faithfully but always with a genuine care for unexpected surprises. We should be striving and praying, as St Paul did in the second reading, that our Lord will “keep you steady and without blame until the last day.”

The person who stays awake and remains faithful is the one who accepts the invitation to keep watch, that is, not let himself be overpowered by the listlessness of discouragement, by the lack of hope, by disappointment; and at the same time it wards off the allure of the many vanities with which the world is brimming and for which, now and then, time and personal and familial peace is sacrificed. It is the painful experience of the people of Israel, whom the Prophet Isaiah was sent to awaken. We too often find ourselves in this situation of unfaithfulness to the call of the Lord: He shows us the good path, the way of faith, the way of love, but we seek our happiness elsewhere.

Listening, praying and remaining faithful won’t tell us when the Lord is coming again, but they will get us ready to receive Him when He comes. Hopefully none of you out there are asleep yet. Hopefully you’ve managed to stay awake through my homily. But if you are asleep, know that God loves you and has sent Christ into the world to save you all the same. But for those who are asleep, He comes as Judge. And if you are asleep, or falling asleep, or peaceful and secure in your faith life, well, it’s time to wake up and come alive. Because what the Church needs are not people who are sleeping on the job but those who are alive and kicking, ever ready to preach the Gospel of Christ through the testimony of their words and actions. So, stay awake!

The Myth of Pastoral Charity

Solemnity of Christ the King Year A

There has been heated discussion of late as to whether one could depart from settled doctrine and revealed truth in Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition by citing the all-encompassing tag phrase of modern times - pastoral charity. In other words, some would argue that the controversial moral issues of our times, including blessing same sex marriages and admitting women into holy orders, would be non-issues if we shift away from focusing on orthodoxy - right teaching - and start focusing more on orthopraxis - right practice based on pastoral charity. So, what exactly is pastoral charity? Can it be so powerful that it can justify the setting aside of truth in the name of kindness and solicitude? It is interesting that we can find our answer in today’s reading.

Let’s first examine the word “pastoral,” which comes from the Latin “pastor,” which means shepherd. The first reading gives us an excellent exposition of the work of the Shepherd King who is God. The Old Testament prophecy of Ezekiel that God will judge “between sheep and sheep, between rams and he-goats” is fulfilled in our Lord’s parable in the gospel. Although the element of judgment is found in both readings, Ezekiel’s prophecy broadens the scope of the shepherd king’s job:
He will keep all, and not just some, of his sheep in view;
He will rescue them whenever they have been scattered in mist and darkness;
He will pasture them and show them where to rest;
He will “look for the lost one, bring back the stray, bandage the wounded and make the weak strong;
He shall watch over the fat and healthy (I guess in our day and age, these two categories point to different categories at both ends of a spectrum);
Then the Lord makes this promise: “I shall be a true shepherd to them.”

When we examine the roles of the shepherd, we notice that it does not include making his sheep happy or contented in their delusion. In fact, the work of the shepherd is to challenge that very delusion and falsehood of their choices which will lead them astray in the first place. The Shepherd does not leave them to their own devices. He goes in search of them. He restores them to their home. He heals those who are wounded instead of allowing the wounds caused by sin to fester and threaten the life of the sheep. This is what it means to be “pastoral.” The shepherd is not just contented in making his sheep feel good. He challenges them so that they strive to be good, in fact, to be the best version of themselves.

How about the second word in this popular expression commonly used by many in these times - charity? For that, we must turn to the gospel. The parable of judgment in the gospel moves away from these images of the shepherd king and now seems to draw us into the narrative by ascribing to us the very responsibilities which the Shepherd King has promised to undertake. The Shepherd King is not abdicating His responsibility and authority but expecting us to act in imitation of Him. We must imitate Him in charity.

The description of the Last Judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel would shock many people if they were to read it. The principles in accordance with which Christ will pronounce sentence are inescapably clear. Did you feed and clothe the poor for My sake, He will ask, because you recognised Me in them? If you have done so, you will certainly be saved. If you have neglected to do so, you will be condemned for all eternity. Christ does not ask about anything else, because everything else is subordinate to the precept of charity. Where there is charity, everything else follows. Where charity is lacking there is nothing else because Christianity is synonymous with charity. Charity, says St. Paul, “is the bond of perfection.” (Col. 3:14)

Our eternal salvation depends on our charity. But it must be charity in action, not merely in words. “He who has the goods of this world,” says St. John, “and sees his brother in need and closes his heart to him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1st Epistle of St. John, 3:17) Charity must be expressed in almsgiving and good works, for otherwise it would be a matter of idle talk which would be powerless to save us.

Secondly, pastoral charity which ignores or, worse, contradicts God’s revealed truth is not charity, but pseudo-charity. Such abuse of one’s pastoral role would be the greatest affront to the queen of virtues. Kindness or tenderness have their place, but when they degenerate into confirming the faithful in the commission of mortally sinful acts become a cruel caricature of the love a pastor of the Church owes to sinners when they come to him.

Thirdly, our almsgiving should not be dictated simply by natural feelings of compassion, however, nor by mere philanthropy. It should be pre-eminently a religious act, springing from supernatural motives. Because we see the person of Christ in the poor man, we should love and help him as we should our Divine Redeemer, of Whose Mystical Body he is a suffering member. This is real Christian charity.

There is one act of charity which we can all perform, even if we are poor. We can pray for those who never pray, for hardened sinners, for heretics, for those who persecute the Church, for the Missions, for the sick and dying, and for the souls in Purgatory. And for the laity, it is of utmost importance to pray for your leaders – the Pope, our bishops and priests – that they may be “true shepherds” and not false ones who lead their flock astray.

On this feast, when we remember our youth, let us also be mindful of the Church which we wish to bequeath to them on behalf of Christ the King. In wanting the best for them and future generations of Catholics, let us not delude ourselves into thinking that we can “rebuild” the Church, because we may end up, in our hubris, remaking her in our image and likeness, a false bride, instead of the “spotless bride of the spotless Lamb” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 796). Let us never forget that it is Christ who makes the Church, who renews the Church and reforms the Church. We are in Christ grafted as a branch onto the vine, and Christ is in us, feeding, making, and renewing us. Our battle cry isn’t “Yes, we can. Yes, we can!” but “Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat!” “Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands.” He alone shall be the true Shepherd to us all!

How have you loved?

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The three readings we’ve just heard today seem to make strange bed-fellows. The first reading provides us with the criteria of a perfect wife, the second is St Paul’s exhortation to be ready for the Lord’s Second Coming because it would be as surprising as a thief who pays a visit in the night and finally, we have the gospel parable that many often take as a wise piece of advice to invest well and use our talents productively. What seems to be the underlying theme in all three readings? We already have a taste of it last week. It is wisdom. As wisdom distinguishes the perfect wife from other women, so should wisdom distinguish the disciple of Christ from others as he awaits the return of the Lord.

The Book of Proverbs gives us this earthy advise - “Charm is deceitful, and beauty empty; the woman who is wise is the one to praise.” Charm, personality and appearances may win you many friends and ensure that you ascend the ladder of success, but none of these traits can ensure that you would be ready to face the Lord’s judgment at the end of this age. Only acting wisely and preparing prudently can ensure that we can “stay wide awake and sober.”

Let us now turn to the famous parable of the talents in the gospel. Unlike what most people think, this is not a parable about how we should use our gifts, skills or talents for the betterment of the church. This is a common mistake among modern readers unfamiliar with the meaning of a talent. We think that the word “talent” in this passage means a person’s skill and ability. Only in St Matthew’s version of the parable, is the parable correctly named because only here in this gospel do we have mention of the monetary currency as talents.

A talent in this context is a measurement of weight, and the value of any talent depended on whether it was gold, silver or copper. Nevertheless, a single talent was a significant amount of wealth by any measure. A talent of gold was equal to the annual tribute of a medium sized province to the Roman Empire. So, the monetary trust given to each servant - five talents to the first, two to the second and one to the third - would have been staggering - an extremely great endowment, even for the last guy who just got one talent.

We must remember that this is an eschatological parable, which means it is about the end times. The message is simple but demanding: readiness for the Lord’s coming requires both foresight and an investment of effort on the part of His disciples. A disciple of the Lord does not just idly wait for the Master’s return, wasting his time without paying attention to his own spiritual growth and hoping that he can just make up for lost time at the end or defend his actions or inactions with some lame excuse. In all these parables concerning the end times, just like what we heard last week, there is a distinction made between wise and foolish behaviour and a stern reminder that there will be an accounting - the wise who were prepared are rewarded and the foolish would be punished.

So, the parable goes beyond the purpose of encouraging a prudent use and nurturing of one’s personal endowments. Like the other parables preceding it, we have here once again a cautionary tale, an ominous warning, our actions, our attitudes, our behaviour in relation to the Lord have dire consequences. In a world where many deny the existence of hell and have projected their own prejudices unto God, making Him out to be some Teddy Bear, who only gives hugs and never reprimands, these parables are potent reminders that we should never take God’s mercy for granted, and that we should never postpone and delay what changes that need to be done today. His coming will take all of us by surprise “like a thief in the night.”

Our Lord has entrusted the treasures of the Kingdom to us by calling us to be His servants. Whatever has been given to us, we will have to render an account for the way we have lived our lives on the graces and blessings we have received. Though a charming personality and a beautiful appearance may get us what we want in this life, it would not be enough for what is to come. Only by wisely investing our gifts and turning a profit of spiritual growth over to the Lord at the end of our earthly life, will we enter into the joy of His Kingdom and hear these infinitely consoling words, “Well done, good and faithful servant; you have shown you can be faithful in small things, I will trust you with greater; come and join in your master’s happiness.”

First Holy Communion Postscript

Here’s a little story for our children who will be receiving First Holy Communion today. This is a story about St Tarcisius, the patron of altar servers, but I would like to add that he would be a good patron for those receiving their holy communion for the first time.

Tarcisius was a young boy who lived during a time when it was dangerous for Christians to be seen practising their faith and worship publicly. Masses were celebrated secretly in the catacombs, the tombs where dead people were buried. If you were caught practising your faith as a Catholic, you would not only be thrown into prison, but you would also be executed in a most horrific way, being burned alive or thrown to the animals to be eaten.

One day, a group of these Christians who were awaiting their execution made an appeal to the Pope that they wanted to receive holy communion, the Body and Blood of Jesus before they died. The Church calls communion viaticum, which actually means food for the journey – the journey to death and through death. It is indeed a great privilege and blessing to receive Jesus before one dies. But it was dangerous for any adult priest to be seen bringing communion to these Christian prisoners because it would raise a lot of suspicion. So, they decided to send a young boy and Tarcisius volunteered to bring holy communion to the condemned.

But on the way, he met with some of the youth from his neighbourhood who demanded to see what he was carrying. The Holy Communion was safely wrapped in a cloth. But Tarcisius refused to let them see it because he knew that Jesus in the Holy Communion was the greatest treasure that he had to keep safe. So, the boys began to beat him. He was beaten up so badly that he would die from his wounds. But Tarcisius kept the Holy Communion in the firm grip of his hands and refused to relent. A soldier, who happened to be a secret Christian, passed by and found Tarcisius dying. Tarcisius gave the communion to the soldier and disclosed his mission. He told the soldier to carry Jesus to the prison on his behalf, and then he died.

The life and death of Tarcisius shows us that Jesus, especially in the Eucharist, is our greatest treasure, more precious and valuable than all the riches of the world. God entrusted the Body of His own Son to this young boy as He entrusts it to you today. Tarcisius’ life and death shows us that the most important question that Jesus will ask us when He returns is not, “How much money have you made?” but “How have you loved? How have you cared for and served others?” This is what we must do whenever we receive Jesus in Holy Communion. We are called to become more like Jesus, to love like Jesus, and to be ready to sacrifice everything like Jesus. Jesus tells us: “Greater love than this no man has, than that a man lay down his life for his friend.”

Wisdom and Good Deeds

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

We have another parable from St Matthew’s gospel. This time it is that of the ten bridesmaids who fall into two categories. A distinction is made between the sensible and the foolish ones. What differentiates one group from the other? The sensible ones treasure wisdom while the foolish ones show disdain for it. What is this wisdom which some yearn and seek while others ignore and reject?

Wisdom or Chokhmah, according to Hebrew understanding, is not just intelligence or theoretical or philosophical concepts regarding the nature of things. Wisdom is a direct attribute of our Divine and Eternal Lord. When applied to man it is the ability to judge correctly and to follow the best course of action, based on knowledge and understanding. As opposed to the Greek idea of wisdom, Chokhmah is practical. Wisdom leads to right action. It grants a person the ability to see something from God’s viewpoint. That is why a rejection of wisdom is not just a matter of rejecting reason and logic but rather, the rejection of God.

In the wisdom literature of the Old Testament, such as the example taken from the Book of Wisdom in the first reading, God’s infinite wisdom is personified as a woman. The association of divine wisdom with the feminine is not accidental. The relationship between a wife and her husband is the reflected spiritual relationship between Israel and God. The Law and the Prophets provided the wisdom writers with many feminine images (including homemaker, counselor and wise woman, and lover) that influenced their use of female imagery for divine wisdom. The maternal aspect of wisdom comes to the fore. Just as a mother would be the first teacher for her children, guiding them and tutoring them, wisdom literature was written to teach young male students how to function in society and find meaning and order in the world.

In the first reading, we are assured that people have access to common wisdom, which is described as being right out there on the street—out in public. It is in the forest; it is in the city; it is on the job—it is everywhere! We are surrounded by it! While wisdom belongs to God, it can be pursued and in fact pursues individuals. This is why St Paul can make the accusation that the Gentiles who do not have the law are a law unto themselves when they do what the law says is right (Romans 2:14). Their own conscience bears them witness that they understand what is right and what is wrong (verse 15)!

As we turn to the Gospel, we see how our Lord uses this principle of wisdom in a novel way. Wisdom is now the prerequisite for salvation, being admitted to the eschatological wedding banquet, whereas those who had ignored her counsel would be denied entry.

The storyline is simple enough. The parable takes place within the festive and joyful context of a wedding, yet the final message is a sober exhortation to be properly prepared. It relates that ten young maidens, bridesmaids, were outfitted with torches/lamps and oil, were awaiting the arrival of a bridegroom. Notice the feminine and the lover-bride motif in this parable, both being traditional symbols of wisdom. Five of the maidens, the wise ones, had extra oil with them, the others, foolish ones, did not. When the time of the bridegroom’s arrival finally draws near, the foolish ones needed more oil and asked the wise for oil; the wise refused and sent the foolish ones to buy their own. Meanwhile, the wise ones went in with the bridegroom to the wedding feast and the door was locked. The foolish ones returned and were turned away. Thus, the parable ends with our Lord’s admonishment to stay awake, to be prepared.

This story begs the question, “Why would the five maidens not share their oil?” This appears selfish, so why are they called “wise.” First, while it is not clear whether they were carrying lamps or torches (the Greek word can mean either), they would need oil, either to fill the lamps or to apply to the rags used for torches. On the human level, these five maidens had foresight; they had not only made immediate plans but had also planned for any eventuality, including a long wait, and they knew they might not have enough oil to last the night. But this logical explanation is inadequate for us to discern their behaviour. If the bridegroom is Christ, however, and the wedding feast is the end-time banquet, we have a clue to unravel the conduct of these maidens.

In the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord tells His audience that they are “the light of the world.” He encourages them: “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in Heaven” (5:14-16). Light is not just a metaphor for evangelisation, but we see in these words of the Lord a clear connexion between light and good works.

At the end of the Sermon, our Lord says: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven” (7:21) – this saying reinforces the truth that deeds are necessary to enter the kingdom. At the end of today’s parable, the foolish bridesmaids make this request: “Lord, Lord … open the door for us.” The repeated petition, “Lord, Lord” allows us to connect this to the necessity of good deeds in verse 7:21 in the Sermon on the Mount. Finally, a later Rabbinic text, Midrash Rabbah, uses “mixed with oil” to refer to the study of the Law combined with good deeds.

And so, the oil for the lamps/torches was meant to signify good deeds. Then it is clear why the five sensible bridesmaids could not share their oil with the foolish ones; these latter would need their own good deeds. No one can borrow the good works of others to make up for the good works they’ve failed to do. Its merits are non-transferable. Each person must, as St Paul wrote, “work out [their] own salvation with fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). Wise are those who understand this. Foolish are those who don’t.

Chapter 9 of the Book of Proverbs, a reading read during the Feast of Corpus Christi, describes how Lady Wisdom has built her house, set her table and invites her guests to a special banquet. The Eucharist is meant to empower all of us who dine in wisdom to go into the world with the Life of Christ we have received. To faithfully partake of the supper of the lamb in His flesh and blood is to be sufficiently prepared and to have opened the door to wisdom in the Holy Spirit. Let us all pray to receive Christ today and as we return to our seats in our time of thanksgiving after communion, let us ask Him for the gift of wisdom to know how to do His will in our particular life’s calling. With the fuel of Holy Communion, let us keep the flame alive in our hearts as we await our Lord’s coming, not idle but committed to a life of good works, so that we may shine the Light of His Gospel on the world.

Greatness, Humility and Authority

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Today’s readings, especially the first and the gospel, are painful passages to read and meditate. Not for you but for me as a priest. Both readings contain a list of stinging indictments against corrupt religious leaders who should have known better but are guilty of dereliction of duty and misplaced priorities.

The priests of Malachi’s day doctored the message of God which they were entrusted to transmit to their people. They wanted to be more popular with the people than faithful to God’s Word. They catered to itching ears and told folks what they wanted to hear, not necessarily what they needed to hear. And since they had deceived publicly, they were rebuked publicly. And so, Malachi accuses the priestly class of his times with these offences:
They do not listen to God;
They do not glorify His name;
They have strayed from their way;
They have caused many to stumble by their teachings;
They have destroyed the covenant of Levi;
They have not kept to the path;
They have showed partiality in their administration.

For the above reasons God will send His curse upon them and curse their very blessing. To prove to the people the error of their teaching, God will bring on them a public disgrace - He will make them “contemptible and vile in the eyes of the whole people.” A fitting repayment for their infidelity.

The harshness of Malachi’s prophetic words is outmatched by the diatribe which our Lord heaps on the scribes and Pharisees, the religious leaders of His time. Our Lord’s rant against the Pharisees’ ostentatious dressing and certain cultural norms of honour could easily be applied to the Catholic Church and serve as the perfect foundation for any ad hominem anti-clerical attack on the Catholic hierarchy, or so many think. For aren’t Catholic clergy known for dressing up in flowing robes (or as Pope Francis is fond of saying, “grandmother’s lace”), having seats of honour in churches and even social functions? Aren’t our priests simply addressed as “Father”?

Although this is not meant as a general apologia for the Catholic hierarchy, it is good to understand what our Lord meant in His scathing attack of the scribes and the Pharisees and how any superficial application of the text to support our own prejudices, would be the greatest injustice done to our Lord’s teachings. It would be literally taking His words and twisting their meaning to suit our agenda.

It is clear that our Lord was attacking the hypocrisy and self-aggrandising attitude of the religious leaders of His time. He was not making a statement about fashion styles (broader phylacteries and longer tassels, or in today’s modern update “lacey albs”) nor was He attacking the cultural norms of giving places of honour to honoured guests. Let’s be honest, hypocrisy and self-aggrandisement are not a malady that is exclusive to clerics but can infect anyone. Whenever we make show of our status or our outward practices to win men’s admiration, we are as guilty as the Pharisees and scribes described in today’s gospel.

Likewise, when it comes to calling anyone “teacher” or “father,” our Lord’s admonition is against the false assumption of any kind of title or mark of respect for self-glorification, thus detracting from the primacy of God’s authority, in a very real way putting oneself in God’s place. Our Lord was not outlawing the title “father” in legitimate usage. He Himself referred to the prodigal son’s parent as a father and quoted the commandment “Honour your father and your mother.” And He did not correct those who called Him “Rabbi” or “Master.”

Likewise, St Paul was unaware of any prohibition of the spiritual use of the title "father," telling the Corinthians: “I became your father in Christ Jesus through the Gospel” (1 Corinthians 4:15), and speaking of his relationship with Timothy said that “as a child with a father he has served along with me in the cause of the Gospel.” (Philippians 2:22) The spiritual use of father was not questioned in the Church for centuries, and Jesus’ words were never invoked to cause question or concern about the practice. Early teachers and revered spiritual guides were known as Fathers of the Church. Even the Pope is known as “Holy Father.”

At the end of the day, if our criticisms are confined to attacks on dressing, cultural practices and titles, it would only expose our superficiality. We seem to be focusing on the externals and ignoring what is fundamentally interior to a person. Wouldn’t that be an apt description of one of the major sins of the Pharisees? Although we can judge the external behaviour of another, none of us can or are qualified, to judge their intent. Our Lord could do this because He is God. Let us not flatter ourselves by thinking that we are on par with Him and can therefore do the same.

Ultimately, the key is found in the last few lines of today’s passage. And so, our Lord exhorts us to follow this standard: “The greatest among you must be your servant. Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and anyone who humbles himself will be exalted.” This is a standard not just meant for leaders, though they should take special heed of this, but for everyone.

It is one thing to see how a general application of our Lord’s criticism can apply to everyone, clergy, religious or laity. But as I had mentioned at the start, we priests must take heed of both Malachi’s warnings and that of our Lord’s since a greater responsibility is attached to those who are entrusted with the authority to teach and lead the people. Pope St Gregory’s words in one of his homilies remain relevant today, “We can speak only with a heavy heart of so few labourers for such a great harvest, for although there are many to hear the good news there are only a few to preach it. Look about you and see how full the world is of priests, yet in God’s harvest a labourer is rarely to be found; for although we have accepted the priestly office, we do not fulfil its demands.”

“Beloved brothers, consider what has been said: Pray the Lord of the harvest to send labourers into his harvest. Pray for us so that we may have the strength to work on your behalf, that our tongue may not grow weary of exhortation, and that after we have accepted the office of preaching, our silence may not condemn us before the just judge.” So, the next time you offer up a prayer, remember to pray for us unworthy priests, bishops and the Holy Father, the Pope.

Our duty is to pray

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

News from the battle front of the Israeli-Hamas conflict has brought to the fore something which most people would rather choose to avoid or hide. Death. Where death often hides its ugly visage behind the secure walls of hospitals and retirement homes, where cadavers in coffins are dressed up to make corpses look as if they are still very much alive albeit asleep, it takes a war to show that death is more than statistics and a distant isolated reality. As family and friends grieve, others swear vengeance and retribution, and spectators look on with shock and disbelief, many have asked these question: what has become of these casualties of war and violence, some of them mere babies and children? Is there more to life after their deaths?

If there is no life after death, then all that we can do for the dead is to eulogise them in obituaries, celebrate their lives in memorial services, immortalise them by building monuments in their name or fight wars to seek justice for what has been done to them. But that is not the case. We Catholics do not merely believe that there is life after death but that the soul is immortal. Though our physical bodies experience decay in the grave, the immortal souls continue to live on until they are given new spiritual and glorified bodies at the resurrection of the dead.

That is why today’s commemoration is not just meant to be a memorial of the dead. On the contrary, today is a day when we are reminded of our primary duty to the dead. We pray for the dead, 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. It is a special gift of hope from God, a great divine courtesy, but it is also a great responsibility on our part.

The earliest Scriptural reference to prayers for the dead comes in the second book of Maccabees. Since Protestants reject the idea of praying for the dead, this book is not included in their canon (collection of books in the Bible). The second book of Maccabees tells how Judas Maccabee, the Jewish leader, led his troops into battle in 163 B.C. When the battle ended he directed that the bodies of those Jews who had died be buried. As soldiers prepared their slain comrades for burial, they discovered that each was wearing an amulet taken as booty from a pagan Temple. This violated the law of Deuteronomy and so Judas and his soldiers prayed that God would forgive the sin these men had committed (II Maccabees 12:39-45).

Who are the dead that we are speaking of? The Church certainly cannot be speaking of the Saints in heaven who have no need of our prayers but whose prayers we are most certainly in need of. Likewise, we cannot be praying for the souls who are suffering the eternal separation of hell. If that separation is permanent and eternal, they can never benefit from our prayers. No amount of prayers can free a soul from hell. Rather, it is the souls in purgatory whom we should be praying for. Purgatory is not a place where bad people become good people, but where good people become perfected in love. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that “all who die in God’s grace, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven.” (CCC 1030)

We need to pray for the dead, for the souls in Purgatory, because this is a task put into our hands. Purgatory is not a remand centre where its occupants are awaiting judgment - whether some would be set free to join the denizens of heaven or sentenced to share the lot of the souls in hell. No, purgatory is where souls are prepared for heaven, it is where the work of God begun in their lives would be completed. God wills that we should share in this work through our prayers.

Purgatory is the process after death where these attachments, the umbilical cord which binds people to the old world, are cut so that people can be free to enter into the life to come. It is the hospital where the infection of sin is eliminated. It is the incubator where heart, lungs, and vision is made ready for a much larger life. Purgatory is not a kind of temporary hell. Hell is eternal separation from God, but purgatory facilitates our eternal union with Him. That is why when we speak of the Last Things, purgatory is not included in the traditional list of four (death, judgment, heaven and hell).

The dead are blessed, and their life is a blessing for us, because they have no life but the life of God, and He is the God of the living, not of the dead. Christ died and rose again that he might become the Lord of the living and the dead, as St Paul tells us (Romans 14:9). In praying for the dead, we are not merely witnessing to the Resurrection, we are instruments of the Resurrection. And by praying for them, we are attesting to the truth, “life is changed, not ended” at death.

So, today there is no point seething over the horrifying massacres of innocents nor try to figure out the culpability of who is responsible for their deaths. Instead of being glued to the daily news of war and retribution fuelled by anger, hatred and prejudice, let us instead pause to pray. In times of war, we often pray for the living, for the survivors, for a cessation to the killing. We forget that one of the most important things that we must do is to pray for the fallen and all the dead. We can’t know for sure where the dead or our beloved deceased are, unless they happen to be canonised saints. So when in doubt, we pray for them. There is no harm, in fact, there is great benefit, to pray for them.