Food that endures for eternity

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Since last week, our lectionary seems to have taken a detour, a necessary one, away from the Gospel of St Mark. For the next few weeks, we will be treated to the Bread of Life Discourse found in Chapter 6 of John’s Gospel which follows John’s account of the miracle of multiplication of loaves and feeding of the multitude. If the account of the Last Supper in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke provide us with the “when” was the sacrament of the Eucharist instituted, John Chapter 6 provides us with the answer to “what” and “why” was it instituted. But all three synoptic gospels also provide us with a similar clue as to “what” was instituted when they all recorded our Lord as saying: “this is my Body” and “this is my Blood.” Of course, it can be argued and has been argued by the Protestants that our Lord was speaking metaphorically. But to dispel all doubts about what our Lord meant by these words, we have to turn to John’s gospel and to this chapter in particular.

The discourse begins with a parallel made between the manna which God gave to Moses and the Israelites in the desert and what our Lord had just done when He miraculously multiplied the loaves of bread and fish to feed the multitude. But that is not the only parallel. In fact, the underlying parallel which the people were seeking was to determine if our Lord was the new Moses.

Last week’s gospel concluded by telling us that the Lord literally had to run away from the crowds before they could make Him their king. And our gospel today begins by telling us that the people were looking for the Lord to see if He was the earthly messiah they were waiting for who would be a king and lead them; for they believed that when the messiah would come, he would act like a New Moses who would feed and save them from their oppressors as Moses did. But when they found the Lord, He immediately dispelled their expectations, “I tell you most solemnly, you are not looking for me because you have seen the signs but because you had all the bread you wanted to eat.” If we were part of the crowd, these words would have stung us to the core. It is true that we are often ruled by our stomach and other baser instincts than we are of spiritual values. Case in point – if you want a good turnout at a church event, make sure you provide good food – preferably free!

Our Lord, continues to clarify His true mission and what He can really offer them: “Do not work for food that cannot last, but work for food that endures to eternal life, the kind of food the Son of Man is offering you, for on him the Father, God himself, has set his seal.” Our Lord is telling them that they shouldn’t seek Him out just because they want more earthly food, or an earthly king and leader, but they should actually come looking for Him because He can give them food that endures to eternal life; which only He alone can give.

Not satisfied, His audience, just like the Israelites of old, asks our Lord for another sign, they want Him to work another miracle to show and prove that He is the Messiah in order for them to believe, apparently the multiplication of the loaves wasn’t enough and they were simply not listening to what He had just said! The benchmark for this sign which they demanded must be one that can rival the miracle of manna from heaven which Moses had performed. For them, there has been no greater miracle in Israel’s collective history than the mysterious bread which seemed to have dropped miraculously from the heavens and saved them from extinction by starvation. And in their limited reasoning, they saw Moses as the hero behind this miracle.

Our Lord then makes a correction and provides this reality check - Moses isn’t the real catalyst of this miracle but God. Our Lord clarifies: “it is my Father who gives you the bread from heaven, the true bread; for the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” It seems this time, our Lord’s words hit home, and His audience consumed it lock stock and barrel. They immediately request that He gives them this bread always.

But nothing prepared them for what is to follow. They were not ready for our Lord’s next explanation. “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never be hungry; he who believes in me will never thirst.” It is clear that He was not going to repeat the miracle of manna but rather offering Himself as the solution. This is the first time that our Lord introduces Himself as “the bread of life” but it would not be His last time. It would serve as a refrain throughout the discourse in Chapter 6 and we will get to hear it again for the next couple of weeks.

So, in contrast to the story of Moses and the manna in the first reading, we have in the gospel something far greater and more superior. It must be noted that God did not just provide bread as food for the Israelites in their sojourn in the desert. He also gave them meat, in the form of the flesh of quails. The manna appeared in the morning and the quails in the evening. Now, let us look at what our Lord did, not just in the miracle of multiplication but also at the Last Supper when He instituted the Eucharist. Our Lord uses the understanding of the Manna to teach that God wants to give us in the Eucharist, the new Manna, the true bread from Heaven, which will give life to the world. For it is not just a coincidence that the miraculous food God regularly gave the Israelites in the desert was flesh and bread. In the Eucharist, though it has the appearance of bread, it is truly the body and blood, the living flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And like the Manna, the Eucharist will not be ordinary bread, or bread that they would recognise, but unlike the manna it will not be temporary, only last for a time, but the Eucharist, the new bread of life, will endure to eternal life. And so, the people ask our Lord to “give them this bread always”. And our Lord answers them, “I am the bread of life”. Jesus is declaring to all the world, “I am the new Manna, I am the bread that will be given for the life the world.”

And so, my brothers and sisters, even though the Eucharist looks like ordinary bread, it is not. And although some might think our Lord was only speaking metaphorically, He wasn’t. It is clear that the Manna, just as the Eucharist, was not a metaphor, or a figure of speech. For the Israelites testified that the Manna was not a metaphor, but it was real food that was eaten and which sustained them until they reached the Promised Land. For us, the Eucharist too is real food, but in a so much more astounding way. The Eucharist is the Body of Christ and it will continue to sustain us spiritually in this earthly exile of ours until we reach our heavenly homeland. So let us take the Lord at His word, let us believe by faith that Jesus is as He says He is, the bread of life which will give eternal life to the world, and that anyone who comes to Him and believes in Him will no longer hunger or thirst for any other paltry substitute.

When Little becomes Abundant

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

There is this wonderful line which could only emerge from the inspired genius mind of St Augustine: “The New Testament lies hidden in the Old and the Old Testament is unveiled in the New.” This is what we see in our lectionary’s juxtaposition of the first reading and the gospel. Both readings provide us with two incidences of miraculous multiplication of bread, the first implicit, while the latter clearly more explicit by virtue of its scale. Elisha multiplied 20 barley loaves so as to feed 100, with some even left over. But in the Gospel, our Lord multiplies 5 barley loaves and feeds 5,000, leaving 12 baskets left over. We’re talking serious one-upmanship here!

What does the multiplication story of Elisha in the first reading and our Lord Jesus have in common is their seven-part movement in the narrative: a crisis arises due to shortage of food, a chanced character volunteers to make an offering of meagre means, the protagonists issue a command to feed the crowds with these limited resources, followed by incredulity, a second command is given, the feeding takes place and finally, there is food left over. Both narratives fit nicely into this 7-part template. But there is no equivalence. What our Lord does, out matches what is done by Elisha and in fact by Moses who fed the Israelites with manna from heaven. This is no mere coincidence.

Christ brings to complete perfection what had already been prefigured in the Old Testament. That is why we should not easily dismiss the Old Testament as historically obsolete or mythical stories. To know Christ in the fullest sense (sensus plenior), then, we must read not only the New Testament, but also the Old. Our Lord Jesus is not just another great prophet in a long line of prophets but He is of an entirely different category which surpasses all that has preceded Him. If the prophets of old had only communicated the Word of God as mediums of transmission, Jesus is the Word of God in the flesh.

Both stories begin in a context of hunger. Few understand the depths of hunger. Becoming hungry for most of us is a matter of choice. Fasting and dieting are deliberate choices. But one must also consider the hunger of millions of people in the world: “the siege of the poor”. They have no choice but to be hungry.

But it is the hunger of such as these that reminds us that life begins with hunger and to be alive is to be hungry. The dead do not experience hunger pangs any longer. Some people are so hungry that for them God cannot but have the form of a loaf of bread. It is no wonder that in both stories of multiplication, we are reminded that the paradigm which God shows us and which we must imitate is giving and not hoarding. That is why the Lord commands His disciples to count the cost of what is to be given and to make an inventory of what they possess.

The miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and the fish, therefore, shows us that the Lord is not concerned with the quantity of the bread; what He desires is that the bread be shared. The hunger of others has rights over me. It never ceases to amaze me at how much energy we put into making excuses that we don’t have enough to share with others. According to a mysterious divine rule: when “my” bread becomes “our” bread, then little becomes enough. Hunger begins when I keep my bread to myself, when I choose to hold on to my bread, my fish, my assets. In contrast to our penchant to be calculative, our Lord shows us another way of being wholly generous because we have received so much from Him. The fact that there were twelve baskets of leftover food is a reminder to us that His grace is aplenty and that it is free.

Because of this last point and for this reason, the seemingly logical explanation of this miracle being the result of the crowds sharing their personal stash of food is untenable. This is not just a story of sharing but one of revelation. Only God could complete such a feat. As God rained down manna in the desert, Elisha increased his meagre supply of bread to feed the hundreds and now our Lord multiplies the bread and fish to feed the multitude of thousands, none of these events could have happened without God’s intervention. It is simply not possible for the disciples or the people to feed themselves or each other. They could not heal themselves or each other. But God can and God does.

So, the grain of truth that confronts us in today’s readings is that we are subject to limitations. We are not able to do everything, we are not able to help everyone, we are not able to save everyone. But that does not absolve us from doing something or helping someone. When we entrust the little that we have to God, He will ensure that our efforts would not be impeded by our limitations. On the other hand, these stories remind us that for a miracle to happen, it is not about God creating something out of nothing. God takes what we offer Him and ensures that it is always enough for us to share it with others, with much more to spare.

Our financial resources, talents, and holiness are clearly inadequate to meet the needs of a hungry and confused world. But what else is new? This gospel commands us to offer these resources anyway, trusting that God will multiply them. Don’t just take my word for it. See it happen at every Mass. In the Eucharist we bring the very ordinary work of our hands, bread and wine, and join to this the offering of our very ordinary lives. Through the invocation of the Spirit and the Word of God, this offering is changed into the Body and Blood of Christ, the Bread of Life and the Cup of eternal salvation. Likewise, we offer Him the work of our hands and our broken humanity, and He transforms these things into perfect humanity and life-giving divinity. And with this He not only feeds us but empowers us to feed the whole world. When “His” bread becomes “our bread”, then little becomes abundant!

A shepherd's work is never done

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Recently I came across this ditty which is made up of stanzas alternating between the voice of the shepherds and that of their sheep. It is interesting to see how the two perspectives are at variance. Here’s a sampling of the first two stanzas:

Shepherds:
Morning to dusk our watch we keep, tending our flock of precious sheep, near and far they love to roam, then one by one we count them home.

Sheep:
A shepherd’s work is never done while naughty sheep are having fun, high and low we love to roam, then one by one we come back home.

Although there is a tinge of realisation by the sheep (and perhaps subdued appreciation) of the thankless never-ending work of the shepherds, and the tale seems to end on a happy note when the sheep finally decide to return home, the naughty sheep persist in “having fun” and roaming “high and low” with little regard for the former’s sweat and toil. But what really surprises me about this song is the utter joy of the shepherds who seem to cherish and enjoy their work, without minding the long hours nor the delinquent wards under their care. No complaints, just pure joy which springs from the authentic love they have for their sheep.

Even as I read the lyrics of this song with amusement, there is a sense of guilt. I’m nothing like the shepherds in this song, what more the Good Shepherd, our Lord Jesus Christ, whom I am called to emulate. I want to be honest, the line which says “a shepherd’s work is never done,” most closely resonates with me but it sounds more like a complaint rather than a statement of fact: “no rest for the wicked.” Sometimes, attending to the needs of the congregation can be so tiring, especially those requiring high maintenance. And being an introvert, my social battery and energy levels dissipate at such speed whenever I am around people, which is to say most of the time. God knows that I need space and time for myself to recuperate and rejuvenate.

But today’s readings seem to throw another wrench into my plans to have a break and some down-time. From the first reading to the gospel, we see how our Lord doesn’t let up in caring and shepherding those in need. It is not that the human Jesus never tires. Just like the Energiser Bunny, even our Lord, fully human as well as divine, would suffer the fatigue that comes to all of us. But does He walk away? Does He give excuses by citing that He needs time to Himself? Does He abdicate His responsibility and push the load of His work to others? The answer is simply “no.”

You all may remember that the Fourth Sunday of Easter in each lectionary cycle is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. But today is an opportunity for all of us (and I’m including myself in this equation) to revisit the theme of the Good Shepherd and what it means to be sheep as well as shepherd in imitation of our Lord. These readings and the underlying message aren’t just aimed at us priests and lay leaders. All of us Christians are the sheep, and Jesus is the Shepherd. But you too are called to be shepherds in different ways - parents, leaders, service providers, teachers, employers, managers, just to name a few. Before we can be good shepherds who lead the way for others, we must first be sheep who know and follow the Shepherd’s voice ourselves.

From the first reading, we are assured that God, the good shepherd, will never abandon His people. In the face of human shepherds who had forsaken their flock, the prophecy of Jeremiah foretells a time when the Lord Himself will shepherd His people through His own shepherd, a king in the line of David. The promise shimmers between God as Himself the shepherd and His representative being the shepherd. We finally see the fulfilment of this prophecy in the person of Jesus Christ, the Anointed One of God who is God Himself.

Too often have we suffered abandonment in our lives at the hands of those whom we have trusted, those who have sworn to have our backs, to care for us, to protect us. And yet so many of us have known the pain of betrayal in the form of an absent parent, an absent mentor, an absent friend, or even an absent pastor. But here is One who will never abandon us no matter what the cost may be. He now calls us to follow Him and imitate Him in being vigilant at our station, to never abandon our post or abdicate our duty. We are called to be faithful shepherds just like Him, to be present, courageous and steadfast in guarding those placed under our care.

The second characteristic of the good shepherd comes from the second reading - we are called to be unifiers. In a hyper-polarised society, where we are often forced to swear allegiance to parties, factions and ideologies, and called to adjudicate between warring parties we must always stand with the Lord and for the Lord. And what does the Lord stand for? St Paul tells us that our Lord has come to bring peace and reconciliation among enemies. The two groups of Christians, sprung from Jews and gentiles, which formerly were so much at loggerheads, are united by the blood of Christ and the single Spirit to form the single New Man which is Christ’s Body, the Church. We as shepherds after the heart of Jesus must do likewise, constantly bringing people together rather than sowing division.

Finally, our Lord shows us in the gospel that shepherds like His disciples need time and space to be rejuvenated. When they return to give a report of their exploits after their first missionary expedition, our Lord recognises their human needs - they are weary, tired and hungry. Rather than subject them to more gruelling activity, He invites them with these words: “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” This is not any ordinary R & R, rest and relax, but necessary time to retreat and recollect (that’s our version of R & R), to spend time with the Lord in order to be rejuvenated, revitalised and re-created. Not only sheep need feeding. Shepherds need it too.

Though our Lord never said “no” to any cry for help or appeal for assistance as can be seen at the end of the gospel passage, He understands that Christianity is not just a non-stop flurry of activities. There can be no love of God, no true love of self, nor love of others, without that stillness and silence which makes us receptive to them all. Prayer is the fuel which powers our sense of mission. Without it, we would be running on empty, the shepherd’s work would feel like a heavy chore rather than something to be cherished and celebrated.

So, even as we struggle to imitate our Lord as a good shepherd, to be faithful to whatever and whoever has been entrusted to us, to not abdicate our responsibilities for selfish reasons or choose to flee when things get tough and rough, it is comforting to always remember that we are sheep who have a Shepherd who is always there for us, strengthening us, guiding us, protecting us and cleaning up after us when we have made a mess of things. He is that Shepherd whose “work is never done.”

Not Born but Intentional Catholics

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

One of the common self-descriptions you would hear from a Catholic, and only from Catholics, is this: “I’m born Catholic.” That is not entirely accurate, which is to say it is a false statement. No one is “born Catholic.” Through baptism, we all “become” Catholic. We are not exactly “natural” sons of God, but “adopted” sons, as St Paul teaches. The only “born” Catholic was Christ. It may be more accurate, therefore, to describe the person as a “cradle Catholic” rather than “born Catholic.” But often the term has come to describe a prevalent condition which many Catholics possess or suffer - we are Catholics not by our own choice, not intentionally, but often only nominally, that is in name.

Borrowing an idea from the Protestants, Catholic author, Sherry Weddell, wrote a book entitled “Forming Intentional Disciples” to propose a solution to this malady by fostering a culture among Catholics to consciously and intentionally see themselves as disciples of Jesus Christ and to follow and imitate Him by being His messengers to the world. Before I share some salient points from her book, I believe our readings for today provide us with an excellent template for becoming intentional Catholics. The dynamics of the three readings could be simply stated as this: we are called, we are chosen and we are sent.

The first reading speaks of the call of the prophet Amos. Here was a prophet that was sent by God to a foreign nation that needed him but did not want him. The reading begins with Amaziah, the priest of Bethel in the north, practically shooing off Amos and telling him to go back to where he came from, which is the South, Amos’ homeland, and to do his prophesying there. The irony of this encounter is that Amos too expresses his true feelings about his ministry, something which he had not bargained for nor had he personally preferred: ‘I was no prophet, neither did I belong to any of the brotherhoods of prophets,’ Amos replied to Amaziah ‘I was a shepherd, and looked after sycamores: but it was the Lord who took me from herding the flock, and the Lord who said, “Go, prophesy to my people Israel.”’

Just like Amos, most of us have no sense of being called. We would have preferred being left alone to our devices, going about our own business and doing what we have to do to earn our living and get along in life. But being called means that each of us is given a mission beyond what we would have personally desired or chosen. By our baptism, each of us is called to be priest, king and prophet. We are called to be priests because we are called to intercede for others. We are called to be kings because we are called to serve others. We are called to be prophets because the Word of God must be proclaimed by us.

This begs the question: “why me?” If you’ve paid attention to the readings for the past few Sundays, that it’s never about you. God chooses us not because we are qualified, or naturally gifted or because we are worthy. Quite often He chooses those who are not. This is what St Paul tells us in the second reading: “Before the world was made, He chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in His presence, determining that we should become His adopted sons, through Jesus Christ for His own kind purposes, to make us praise the glory of His grace …” That’s it! We are called, we have been chosen. Why? For God’s glory, for the praise of His glory. Not for our glory or because we have merited His attention, so, don’t get swollen headed!

And finally, we have the Gospel where we hear how the Lord sends out the Twelve apostles on a mission. They are called. They are chosen. They are sent out. They are given a mission. They are asked to take nothing along with them because that too is part of their witness. If they are going to lead people to have faith in God, it must start with them. But the call, the choosing and the sending is not just confined to the Twelve. How much easier for us if God only chose the Twelve Apostles and not us! How much easier for us if only the pope, the bishops, the priests and the religious must have responsibilities for preaching and spreading the Word of God and the joy of His Church!

So, knowing that we have been called, chosen and sent, is only the first step. How do we now make the response? I’m going to return to Sherry Weddell’s book and borrow some of her thoughts on this matter. She proposes 5 simple steps.

Step 1 is initial trust. Just like Amos, we must trust the Lord’s call and His mission even if it means getting out of our comfort zones. The greatest obstacle to being an intentional disciple of the Lord is to be contented with what is convenient and secure. Like the apostles in the gospel, we must gradually learn to let go of our crutches - material and emotional- and begin to learn to trust God more each day. If God has called us to this mission, He will provide us with the wisdom, the tools and resources to carry out His will.

The next step is spiritual curiosity. As Weddell says, “When we live lives that are inexplicable apart from the grace and power of the Gospel, we will often find that curiosity is sparked among people who were formerly hostile to the Faith. To be a witness does not consist in engaging propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.”

The third step after trust has been given, curiosity aroused, it is time to challenge our listeners. Often, we tip toe around difficult subjects and try to soften the demands of Christ. But without this challenge, Christians will remain infants, perpetually “born Catholics” or “infantile Catholics”, who are unable to make a breakthrough in their spiritual growth.

All the previous steps will lead to the fourth step - spiritual seeking. Here, the seeker is abandoning the false notion that God stands in the way of freedom and happiness, and realising that God is the good he or she has sought all his life in his pursuit of the shadows and copies of beauty that are mere earthly beauties.

So, how does one live the Catholic faith in the real world? It is certainly not enough to be “born Catholic” or even to be a “cradle Catholic.” These labels mean nothing unless we are intentional about it. Our lives cannot just be dictated by doing the bare minimum, even though many cradle Catholics these days don’t even do the bare minimum like observing the precepts of the Church – attending Mass every Sunday and holy days of obligation, making confession at least once a year etc. We must be consciously aware that we are called, we are chosen and we are sent. Today we are invited, each one of us, to recognise our own calling and to seek to know what God asks of us in order to spread the Good News of the Kingdom. Let us open our hearts and our minds in faith. No more excuses. No more delays. Time to get out of our cradles and be rock solid intentional disciples of the Lord!

Fidelity not popularity

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

There is much talk these days about the spirit of Synodality, that the Synodal way is the way the Church must progress and move forward. One could simply describe it as the culture and attitude of different members of the Body of Christ walking together and attentively and effectively listening to each other. Most people would agree that it is a good thing to have more listening, to have ears closer to the ground, to the real issues and struggles of the people, to be able to empathise with the challenges and problems people are facing.

But there is also much disagreement as to what Synodality in practice entails. There is much misunderstanding as to what is the end game. Someone cynically gave this mischievous definition: “journeying together without a destination.” The concept begs the following questions: Is it a Parliament where people get to vote on critical issues including norms of morality and doctrine? Would sensus fidelium be reduced to public opinion where the position of the majority will rule the day? Is it all about brainstorming ideas and sentiments and then try to merge and synthesise these positions, even opposing ones, into a single all-inclusive corporate mission statement?

The answer to every one of these questions must be a clear and definite “no”! Synodality can never mean a popularity contest, neither can it entail blurring the lines between good and evil, truth and falsehood. The Church does not and cannot march along with the drumbeat of the world. We simply cannot subvert the Church and her scripture and tradition-based teachings, in order to please the world.

Certainly, we cannot ignore the world, and that’s why it’s a mistake to entrench ourselves in the past and enter into a time sealed cocoon, insulated from what is happening around us. However, we must never forget that we are in the world, but we are not of the world. This is what the readings today wish to emphasise. To be prophetic is not just being a contrarian, objecting to every mainstream opinion or dissenting with the establishment. To be truly prophetic means learning to live in the world while not being of the world. It is a call to be faithful to God’s Word while learning to communicate that Word to a world that lacks a vocabulary to understand. It is having our feet firmly planted on the ground but with our eyes constantly gazing heavenward. It is an amphibious existence.

In the first reading, we have the call of the prophet Ezekiel. This serves as a prelude to the gospel where our Lord Jesus likens the people’s reception of Him as how their ancestors treated the prophet. From the very beginning, God is laying out the difficult task and mission of the prophet. A prophet is not simply someone who foretells the future. The task of a prophet is to tell people how God sees things, for the prophet sees things as God sees them. This directness of vision is not always popular, for we don’t always like being told home truths about ourselves. The truth about ourselves is often unwelcomed, particularly when it involves criticism and demands change. But the ministry of the prophet is not dependent on the people’s reception or lack of it but rather on the call to be faithful to the mission which has been entrusted to him by God. As God tells Ezekiel: “Whether they listen or not, this set of rebels shall know there is a prophet among them.”

Our Lord in the gospel also reminds us that we should not expect a warm welcome from those who seem closest to us, especially when we choose to stand by the side of truth rather than along party or sectarian lines. As He so rightly pointed out: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.”

As much as we often measure the success of our efforts by the extent of their approval, this should never be our yardstick. When it comes to our Christian witnessing, fidelity and not popularity should be the benchmark. In fact, the more faithful we are to the cause of Christ and His message, the more opposition, ridicule and even persecution would we receive at the hands of our audience. This seems counterintuitive. We would be so much more motivated when we receive positive appraisal from others. But here’s the secret which St Paul shares with us in the second reading - God assures us: “My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.” It is for this reason that we can make our weaknesses our special boast and be content with all kinds of hardship because as St Paul rightly puts it: “For it is when I am weak that I am strong.”

Yes, we are called to a Synodal way in which we recognise that we are fellow companions on a journey. But it is a Synodal way that has a direction rather than listless wandering and an ever-changing goal post depending on the latest fads and mainstream opinions. Our direction is that whatever we do or say, our goal is to get to heaven and not settle for some transient earthly utopia that promises big things but delivers little.

We must be committed to a Synodal way that is not dictated by the complaints and erroneous ideas or sinful preferences of the unfaithful, but rather, a call to listen to and follow the Only One who matters, our Lord Jesus, no matter how unpopular His teachings may be. Synodality is a call to deeper fidelity and not a substitute for it. We must do what is pleasing to the Lord rather than seek external validation from our peers and contemporaries.

Yes, being Synodal means change, but not in the way of changing the gospel or the teachings of the Church to suit our every whim and fancy but rather to humbly acknowledge our sinfulness and undergo repentance and conversion that will lead us to a deeper and more challenging commitment to follow Christ. We must remember that our goal is not to sneak into heaven by the skin of our teeth, but to be transformed in Christ, even on earth. Yes, we must be transformed in Christ – and not into another rival of Christ. This is the ideal.

Finally, it is good to be guided by the wise words of St Ignatius of Antioch: “Our task is not one of producing persuasive propaganda; Christianity shows its greatness when it is hated by the world.”