Christ is King!

Solemnity of Christ the King Year B

The declaration that “Christ is King” seems innocent enough for us Catholics, albeit somewhat hackneyed. But this has not been the case in America’s highly polarised political climate. On the one side you have people saying this is an affirmation of the Christian faith and a desire to not give in to secular culture. On the other side, you have people saying the phrase Christ is king is antisemitic, or expresses contempt for Jewish people, as the gospels seem to lay the blame on them for killing Jesus, although the actual executioner is Pontius Pilate as we had heard in today’s gospel. And in the weeks leading up to the highly contested presidential elections in the United States, the statement has been construed by those on the left as a pro-Trump dog whistle.

It is obvious that the title has political connotations. It is for this reason that the Jewish leaders brought our Lord before the Roman authorities on charges of treason. In the Empire, only Caesar was truly sovereign and all other client puppet rulers within his domain would have to seek his mandate before they could claim any title or authority. Since the Sanhedrin, the Jewish High Council, was unable to impose capital punishment under their religious blaspheme laws, getting the Romans to adjudicate the case and pass the death penalty was the only option. So, the “crime” of Jesus had to be elevated from a religious sin into a political high crime of treason.

When our Lord was given an opportunity by Pilate to refute the charges of claiming to be “king”, He in fact confirmed the title when the question was put to Him: “Are you the king of the Jews?” And after clarifying that His “kingdom is not of this world,” our Lord proceeds to unequivocally declare: “Yes, I am a king. I was born for this, I came into the world for this: to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on the side of truth listen to my voice.” For having affirmed the truth of His kingship instead of denying it, our Lord was condemned to die by crucifixion. He could have lied even when it was inconvenient and politically incorrect to state the truth. He could have protested that it was all a misunderstanding, but He didn’t.

So, for those who clutch their pearls whenever they hear this statement as an anti-Semitic and right-wing slogan, here are some salient truths which is bound to trigger you, rather than lower the temperature: The good news is that Jesus Christ is really king. But He’s also a Jew and in fact hailed as “King of Jews,” the very charge written on the titulus placed on the cross. So, it is an oxymoron to claim that an esteemed royal Jewish title given to a Jew would be anti-Semitic. In fact, this feast was inaugurated by Pope Pius XI as the Church’s challenge to the secularist fascist regimes which were not just anti-semites but also anti-Christian.

It is also important to remember that the “Jesus is King of the Jews” language would have been self-evidently a kind of joke, making fun of both Jesus and his fellow Jews under Roman occupation. The joke is that a king on the throne of David would not be drowning in his own blood, helplessly fixed to a Roman cross. To call him that would make a cruel point not just to any future insurrectionist but to the hopes of Jewish people generally—No one is coming to liberate us. Caesar is king and will remain king. Furthermore, the motives of Pilate’s soldiers in applying the “Christ is king” imagery was even clearer. The purple cloak and the crown of thorns were meant to be a parody—as the Roman soldiers sarcastically saluted Jesus, yelling, “Hail, king of the Jews!” (Mark 15:18). They mocked Jesus both for His alleged claim to kingship and for His Jewishness, both seen as being beneath the majesty of Roman power.

But Jesus is not making any claims to the Roman imperial throne. He has no desire to do so. Our Lord Jesus Christ is not a true and better Caesar. His kingship is something altogether different, in fact, it is not of this world. That’s because the kingdom of God is not a capstone of the aspirations and power games of this present order; it’s a repudiation of them.

If the kingdom of God were about external conformity, tribal membership, or “winning” in the sense that we define it, Jesus could have embraced all of that from the crowds around Him or would have trained His closest associates to become a more effective group of insurgents. The kingdom of God cannot be understood or articulated without seeing that the Crucifixion is not a plot obstacle on a hero’s journey. The way of the Cross is, in fact, the Way to victory and glory, while the way of Caesar leads to death and humiliation. The Cross is indeed our Lord’s true throne. Pope Pius XI taught that Christ the King “has dominion over all creatures, a dominion not seized by violence nor usurped, but His by essence and by nature.” The cross is not what robbed us of our king but in fact, gave us a king.

At a recently concluded Pax Liturgica Meeting in Rome, which went for the most part unnoticed because it was eclipsed by the hyped Synod on Synodality, Cardinal Gerhard Müller warned against bishops betraying their divine mission by relativising doctrine and failing to uphold the orthodox faith. "We must not give in to the following suggestion: If you want to reach people today and be loved by all, then, just like Pilate, leave the truth aside, then you will be spared persecution, suffering, the cross and death! Secularly speaking, the power of politics, media and banks is the safe side, while the truth defies contradiction, and promises suffering with Christ, the crucified Saviour of the world."

So, by declaring that Christ is King is not a triumphalist slogan weaponised against others but a humble acknowledgement that God comes first, above every political movement, above every economic option, above every ideological agenda, above every expression of our narcissistic world-view. To declare that Christ is King is not the symptom of a diseased mind but actually its antidote. To declare that Christ is King is not a refutation of the cross, but, the embrace of it!

Being redeemed in Christ is the antidote for toxic social dynamics. Rather than gaslighting, we have truth; in place of narcissism, there is humility; instead of manipulation, there is a guileless spirit; in place of helplessness and powerlessness, there is the armour of God; rather than oppression, there is deliverance; instead of exhaustion and exploitation, we are made new. So, let us not be abashed or ashamed of declaring with whole-hearted conviction: Christ is King!

And Now the End is Near

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

There are too many things happening simultaneously and coincidentally which may lead us to believe that we are living in the end times. We seem to be beset by one earth-shattering, history-setting crisis after another - a worldwide pandemic that brought the entire world to its knees, an economic crisis on an accelerated downward spiral, regional conflicts threatening to become another world war, hurricanes and natural calamities on an unprecedented scale and a polarised Church which seems to have as many enemies on the inside as she has on the outside. For some, the re-election of Donald Trump was the final straw – we are on the threshold of Armageddon.

Whenever some big catastrophe happens, you can be sure that someone will start talking about the “end times.” Both Catholics and Protestants do this. The difference mainly seems to be that Protestants start trying to chart out the apocalypse according to the Books of Daniel and Revelation, whereas Catholics try to chart it out based on various private revelations of the more dramatic and eschatological kind.

But what Christians today often forget is that the Church has been talking about the “end times” since the very first century, when humanity crucified the Son of God which was followed in a few decades by the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem. Our Lord’s death and resurrection was the beginning of the end, the sudden unveiling of God’s final purpose for His creation. The destruction of the Temple merely confirmed their worst fears as the Temple was regarded by the Jews as the microcosm of the universe. This catastrophe coupled with civil wars fought within the Roman Empire, cataclysmic natural disasters led many to believe that this was indeed the Last Days. But the world did not disintegrate into space dust despite all signs and omens and personal speculations pointing to this.

So, are we overreacting? Have our ancestors been overreacting? Are the end times even real or have we been suffering from some eschatological post-traumatic stress disorder for decades and centuries? I wish to reassure you - Yes, the end times are real! The last things are real: death, judgment, heaven, hell. From a biblical point of view, we have been living in the end times for the last 2,000 years.

We are living in the end times but there is nothing new about this. So yes, the drama is real, but so is the salvation. We should never forget this truth: Evil is real, but so is good. In fact, the good is more real because evil is always destructive, always negative, always corrupting. Whereas the good creates, builds, grows, nurtures, comforts, enhances, heals. That is why we should never be hiding in a bunker, cowering in fear under some rock or burying our head in the sand. The good news of Jesus Christ is that evil does not triumph, cannot triumph, and so we do not have to fear. We can look in the face of evil—as so many Christian martyrs have done and do even today—and persevere in loving the good.

What our Lord tells us in today’s gospel passage is not just an ominous warning of destruction on a global and cosmic scale. Many would be so caught up with the frightening imagery that appears in the first half of our Lord’s prophecy but fail to pay attention to the second half that follows. What comes after the end of the world and the universe, is not defeat but victory. Our Lord assures us that for those who remain resilient and faithful to the end, will get to witness the “Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory; then too he will send the angels to gather his chosen from the four winds, from the ends of the world to the ends of heaven.”

As Christians, we should not be paralysed and stuck in the past, the past of failures, of blunders, of sentimental memories. If there is anything the past can teach us is the lessons which we must take into the present. Remembering the past should lead us to a profound sense of gratitude, to wisdom, to humility and to repentance. We must remember that we can never change the past and therefore, can never choose to live in a time capsule, shielding us from the troubles of the present.

The same could be said of the future. We have limited influence on the future, which in any case doesn’t yet exist. Many feel crippled and immobilised by fear and the uncertainties of the future. But we have a lot of influence on the choices we make and the actions we take, here and now. “Now” matters. It matters because all the “nows” in a lifetime add up to the kind of people we become, and the kind of world we help to heal or degrade. Our power as individuals lies in what we do now; in our willingness to speak and live the truth today, now, whatever the cost. It lies in our refusal to cooperate with a culture of distortion and deceit.

Ultimately, Christians belong to the Church Militant; a Church engaged in a nonviolent struggle for the soul of the world. Our weapons are faith, hope and charity; justice, mercy, and courage. But all those virtues are useless without the men and women to live and witness them and to soldier on . . . because people, not things, are decisive. And it is how we live our lives in the present which will determine the final outcome, with “some (going) to everlasting life, some to shame and everlasting disgrace.”

The Catholic approach may not be the stuff of movies or bestsellers, but it is one filled with hope instead of instilling dread in us. While we may not know exactly what the Second Coming will look like, or when it would happen or how our current world will be reshaped or changed, we have the promises of scripture: “The learned will shine as brightly as the vault of heaven, and those who have instructed many in virtue, as bright as stars for all eternity.” That is what we should hold onto as we live our earthly lives as well as we can in love with hope for the work that is being done in our lives now and for what is being prepared for us in the future.

The Once-and-for-all Atoning Sacrifice

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The holiest day in the Jewish calendar was marked by a unique ceremony that had to be repeated every year, at least while the Temple was still standing. This is Yom Kippur or the Day of Atonement. Although no living person in this day and age has ever witnessed this elaborate ceremony, we have the benefit of its detailed records in the Bible, in the Book of Leviticus, a book of rites and ceremonies.

The book of Leviticus says that the High Priest on this most holy day was to enter into the Holy of Holies, which is the inner sanctum of the Temple, the place where the tabernacle was kept. By the time of our Lord, the tabernacle was missing which meant that the Holy of Holies was an empty shell. But that was no excuse to stop this ceremony. The High Priest’s primary responsibility was to offer the sacrifice on Yom Kippur for the forgiveness of the sins of all the Israelites. On the Day of Atonement, the priest would be stripped of his clothes, wash his hands and his feet, and then immerse himself in water and dried off and put on white garments, similar to the white alb the priest and altar servers put on before they enter the Sanctuary. Then the High Priest would offer a bullock, a young bull for his own sin offering as our second reading reminds us, and fill the Holy of Holies with incense; thus, he would be considered purified and ready to offer the sacrifice for the people.

The people would then bring to the High Priest two goats, one goat would be offered to the Lord and the other would become the scapegoat. After the first goat was sacrificed to the Lord as a sign of propitiation (communion with God), the High Priest would take the live scapegoat and lay his hands upon the scapegoat and confess all the sins of the Israelites onto it. This goat represented the act of expiation (the purification from sin). Then a Gentile, because no Jew would want to go near the goat that had all their sins, would tie a scarlet red ribbon around its neck, lead the scapegoat out into the desert, and push it over the cliff. So, when the scapegoat would be pushed over the cliff and die, the Israelites knew all their sins were forgiven.

And here is where the scapegoat gets fascinating. The way the Israelites would know their sins were forgiven is because the High Priest would tie another crimson red ribbon on the door of the Sanctuary. According to the rabbis whose teachings are recorded in the Mishnah, the oral tradition, every year whenever the scapegoat was pushed over the cliff that crimson red ribbon tied on the door to the Sanctuary would miraculously turn white, that way all the Israelites would know their sins are forgiven. And what is even more amazing is that according to the same Jewish tradition, the miracle of the red ribbon turning white happened every year until the year 30, the time of Jesus Christ upon the earth. Though this remained a mystery among the Jews, it is clear to us Christians. We all know what happened on Good Friday – the Lamb of God took away the sins of the world on the cross.

The Cross is the final sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins of all people. Jesus Christ replaces the scapegoat that was offered by the high priest at the Holy of Holies in the Temple at Yom Kippur; He is the sacrificial lamb, who gave Himself up for our eternal life. He, who was without sin, took on the sins of world by His Passion. But He is also the other goat who is sacrificed in the Temple to bring about our complete reconciliation with God, something which all the bloody sacrifices of the Temple could never accomplish. His sacrifice both expiates and propitiates – purifies us from sin and unites us with God. Like all the Jewish High Priests, Jesus too was stripped of His clothes before He was crucified, therefore Jesus is the Great High Priest who offered Himself as the final sacrifice for the forgiveness of sins.

Now, all this alignment between the ritual of the old covenant and what took place on the cross at Calvary on Good Friday would certainly help us to understand what is written by the author of Hebrews in the second reading. But what about the story of the two widows in the first reading and the gospel? Both are certainly models of unrivalled generosity as both gave up their last resort of survival, the first for a stranger and the second for God. In a way, both widows epitomise the two-fold great commandment of love owed toward God and neighbour, which we heard last week. Both women are actually typological figures pointing to another who gave up much more - the One who sacrificed His life for us in order to atone for our sins and reconcile us to the Father. The two small coins of the second widow in our gospel story perhaps symbolises the two-fold action of our Lord’s sacrifice - expiation and propitiation.

It is through this lens that we must now consider the story of the widow’s mite. The main point of the story of the widow’s mite is not what most people have assumed. Have you ever noticed our Lord does not praise the widow for her offering? He does not even encourage us to duplicate her behaviour. He simply states what she did as a fact. The widow’s sacrificial offering points us toward the life of sacrifice Jesus modelled for us. Our Lord offered Himself willingly. He spared nothing, and it cost Him everything. Unlike the animals whose lives were taken against their will, our Lord went to His death willingly for our sake. If you think the widow’s actions as astoundingly generous, it still comes nowhere close to what the Lord has done for us. His generosity knows no bounds.

By shining a light on the unnamed widow’s generosity, our Lord reminds us that what is most important to God is not the quantity of the gift, but the generosity of the one doing the giving. The value of a gift depends not on its absolute worth, but in the love with which it is given. This woman of God gave an offering that resounded louder than the heaps of coins dropped into the treasury by others. Nothing showy. No virtue signalling. In fact, her actions may actually earn her ridicule and derision. But her love for her Lord who had given so much to her blinded her to the burning and judging gaze of others.

Many of us would be guilty of looking at what we possess and be conditioned by a mentality of scarcity, believing that it is never enough for us to share with others. In contrast, a heart of abundance, just like the two widows, looks at the One who provides what we have in our hands. As we recognise our God as the one who provides everything— life, possessions, time, energy, love, and all of who we are—we will grow in our trust of Almighty God’s abundance.

At every Mass, we are brought before the One who sacrificed everything for us, who took our sins upon Himself although He had none, who drew the ire and hatred of the world so that we may be freed from shame and guilt. But unlike the sacrifice of Yom Kippur which had to be repeated to no avail, the Holy Mass is the ‘once for all,’ perfect sacrifice of Calvary, which is presented on heaven’s altar for all eternity. It is not a ‘repeat performance.’ There is only one sacrifice; it is perpetual and eternal, and so it needs never be repeated. And it is by this once for all sacrifice that heaven is finally opened, the gates of God’s abundant graces finally poured upon us, and our reconciliation with Him is finally sealed “once and for all.”

The Hope of Resurrection has dawned

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed

Most of us have a myopic view of reality, we often only see the small picture and are oblivious to the bigger one. We are often told by contemporary wisdom to live in the present and not dwell in the past nor should we be anxious about the future. This is a drastic mistake as it often translates into bad decisions, despair or at the other extreme, false optimism. The truth is that belief in the resurrection is what enables us to live in hope. Hope is the desire for eternal life, "placing our trust in Christ's promises and relying not on our strength but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit" (CCC, #1817).

In certainly one of the most beautiful texts in the Roman Missal, we find these profound words meant to broaden our vision:

“In him the hope of blessed resurrection has dawned, that those saddened by the certainty of dying might be consoled by the promise of immortality to come. Indeed for your faithful, Lord, life is changed not ended, and, when this earthly dwelling turns to dust, an eternal dwelling is made ready for them in heaven” (Preface 1 of the Masses for the Dead).

Our Lord’s resurrection has brought about a new dawn of hope, the hope that one day we too shall share and partake in His resurrection and our bodies not be condemned to rot in the grave nor our souls dissipate into oblivion. This is certainly consoling for those who mourn over the death of their loved ones knowing that they have been promised immortality. St Paul exclaims this in his letter to the Corinthians: "This corruptible body must be clothed with incorruptibility, this mortal body with immortality" (1 Corinthians 15:53).

We struggle to find analogies to explain this reality, but the process of metamorphosis that changes a caterpillar into a butterfly comes to mind. The Greek word used to describe the Transfiguration of the Lord is precisely the word that has been used to explain this transformation from nature. Another analogy comes from St Paul in his letter to the Corinthians. To show continuity and discontinuity between this life and the next, Saint Paul turned to the seed and the plant. The seed buried in the ground has one form, and the plant that springs from the ground is in another form. The continuity between the seed and plant is accompanied by discontinuity or radical change. Paul uses this image to contrast the resurrected body with the physical body: what is sown corruptible will be raised incorruptible; what is sown dishonorable is raised glorious; the weak will be raised powerful (1 Corinthians 15:42-44).

But our vision is not just broadened by faith and hope to see what becomes of mortal bodies and immortal souls. We are also given a new vision of the Church as a “bigger tent”. As much as it is a popular jargon to declare that “we are the Church,” it would be pure hubris to declare that we the living faithful are the only members of the Church. We are only “a part” of the Church, a small part. The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains how there are “three states of the Church … at the present time some of his disciples are pilgrims on earth. Others have died and are being purified, while still others are in glory, contemplating ‘in full light, God himself triune and one, exactly as he is'” (CCC 954). Traditionally, these three states have been referred to as the Church Militant, Church Suffering and Church Triumphant. Together, these three make up the Communion of Saints which we profess in the Creed.

As Catholics, it is not just incumbent for us to pray for the living, for their needs and protection and ultimately for their salvation, but we should also turn our prayers to the saints to ask for their intercessions. But let us never forget to pray for the dead, the members of the Church Penitent or Church Suffering. They seem to be the most neglected category in these times when man is unable to see beyond the veil and threshold of death and heaven, for many they remain a mere illusion and mystery. We need to remember the words in the Preface, that in death, “life is changed not ended.”

The idea of funerals and in this particular day in the year, specifically set aside for praying for the dead, is premised on the belief that not all persons who die will immediately go to heaven. In fact, for the vast majority of us, we would most likely be in Purgatory, even if we have lived a fairly good but far from perfect life. Rather than a downer and a wet blanket, this should be a cause for hope and joy, that heaven is not entirely denied to the imperfect but open to those who were on the path of perfection, unfinished products, but through God’s mercy and providence, are brought to that perfection through the fires of His blazing love. As St Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans which we heard in the Second Reading, this hope “is not deceptive, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.” It is a hope not based on human merits but the result of the sacrifice of Christ who “died for sinful men.”

It is in Christian hope that the Christian community commends the dead to the mercy and love of God for the forgiveness of their sins. The Church encourages you, therefore, to seek indulgences, pray novenas, fast, make sacrifices and have Masses said for the deceased, especially for those who have no one to pray for them. These acts of charity will increase the love of God in your heart and soul and help those who have gone before us in death. As St Ambrose reminds us, “we have loved them in life, let us not forget them in death.”

Born Loser Raised Victorious

Solemnity of All Saints

If there is one cartoon character which I most identify with, it is Charlie Brown, the main male protagonist of the Peanuts comic strip created by Charles M. Schultz. Charlie Brown reminds me so much of myself growing up and even now, as an adult.

Personality-wise, he is gentle, insecure, and lovable. Charlie Brown possesses significant determination and hope, but frequently fails because of his insecurities, outside interferences, or plain bad luck. Although liked by his friends, he is often the subject of bullying, especially at the hands of Lucy van Pelt. He’s (what I often describe myself as) “bully-able.” Charlie is the perennial victim of bullying by the stronger, the proverbial Born Loser. He is described by his creator as “the one who suffers because he’s a caricature of the average person. Most of us are much more acquainted with losing than winning. Winning is great, but it isn’t funny.”

To be a Christian today often feels like being a loser, being an easy target for bullying, which isn’t a laughing matter. Christians, especially those who choose to live and practice their faith publicly, will end up being mocked, cancelled, side-lined and even persecuted. This explains why there are fewer and even fewer practising Christians even in traditionally predominantly “Christian” countries, and our neighbours think less of us because of our strange values and ideas. We are increasingly outsiders. And how we respond to this reality may be the defining question of our time.

The good news is that Christianity has always been a religion of losers. It is not a recent phenomenon in a highly secularised world. We have been persecuted, our beliefs have been ridiculed and rejected, our values have been maligned, sometimes driving us underground to practice our faith secretly. But though we may appear to be weak, powerless, failures, and losers in the eyes of the world, in the eyes of God we are victorious and winners! In this world we will have trouble; in this world we will be bullied and even appear to lose; but take heart, Christ has overcome the world. And this is what the Saints in heaven declare in song and praise: “Victory to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” These were the same figures who appeared to be defeated by anti-Christian forces, persecuted, tortured and martyred and yet, emerged victorious holding palms as trophies of their victory.

Nowhere is this truth more evident than in the Beatitudes. One could paraphrase the list of beatitudes as this: “Happy or Blessed are the losers!” “Happy are the ‘bully-ables’.” This is what the paradoxical and counterintuitive values behind the Beatitudes seek to display. Our Lord and Saviour, just as the Beatitudes would describe, had to experience poverty, pain, suffering, loss, persecution and death for the sake of righteousness in order to gain the victory and joyful blessedness of the resurrection and the gift of eternal life for all of us. This is the core of the Christian message - death before resurrection, loss before victory, last before first, poverty before riches. For in the Christian story, ‘success and failure’ is inverted.

Although we often describe the Saints in heaven as the Church Triumphant, those who have “run the race” and are crowned with glory in Heaven, the proverbial “winners,” it often doesn’t feel this way here on earth. The biography of every saint often reads like an episode of Charlie Brown. Our earthly experiences of failure and loss make us doubt the promises of the beatitudes.

But if we take a deeper look at the promises which are proclaimed by the Beatitudes, we begin to recognise the veracity of their claims even in this life without waiting for the next. The losers can discover something about themselves that winners cannot ever appreciate – that they are loved and wanted simply because of who they are, and not because of what they achieve. Love is never earned but freely given by the Lord to all, to even those who are undeserving, especially to them. That despite it all, raw humanity is glorious and wonderful, entirely worthy of love. This is revealed precisely at the greatest point of dejection – our Lord’s death and resurrection.

The resurrection is not just a magic trick at raising a dead body to life. That’s a neat and impressive trick. But it is so much more than that. It is a revelation that love is stronger than death, grace is stronger than sin, that human worth is not indexed to worldly success, but to one’s fidelity to the path laid out by Christ. The lives of the Saints are testimony to this. On this side of heaven, they may appear to be losers. But as the vision of St John in the first reading lifts the veil, we are given a glimpse of their true worth - they are winners and victors in the Kingdom of Heaven.

A successful Christian, if you can call him or her one, called to be a saint, ought to be hated rather than feted in this world. Yes, it does seem that the modernist forces seem to be attacking the Church from every angle, that orthodox Christian beliefs and values are aggressively under assault, yet this feast reminds us that we are not alone in our experience and that this epoch in history, is not that unique as the Church has always suffered derision, rejection, humiliation, and bullying from her inception. We often forget that until our Lord returns in glory as He brings judgment upon the earth, battles and wars will remain. So, no matter how peaceful we wish our lives could be, the truth is our lives, this side of heaven, will be tainted with conflict.

But despite the onslaught she experiences, not only from earthly enemies but also demonic forces, the vision described in the Book of the Apocalypse will be the final outcome. As we stand before the throne of the Lamb, we will know that we are conquerors, not losers, in this life we may be bullied but at the Last Judgment, we will be vindicated and that failure will be redeemed by the victory won for us by the Lamb which was slain.

Listen and See

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

What connects the first reading to the gospel is that fundamental Jewish statement of belief which provides us with the first part of the daily prayer of every Jew. “Sh’ma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai echad.” “Listen, Israel: the Lord our God is the one Lord.” If one were to understand the two-fold commandment of love which follows this statement, one needs to unpack and grasp the width and depth of this profound and supreme testimony of the Jewish faith, and by extension, the Christian faith.

The Hebrew word “Shema” translated as “listen” or “hear” deserves our attention. It is no coincidence that the first of the Apostles, Simon Peter, takes his Hebrew name from this word – “Shimon”. That is irony for you. Although, Simon Peter responded to the call of our Lord by listening, it would appear that his listening was often selective and did not lead him beyond a superficial and shallow understanding of our Lord’s identity and his mission as a disciple. His listening would be impaired until he “saw” the Risen Lord with his own eyes. This seeing would complete his listening.

But let us go back to our original verb. Listening goes beyond exercising one’s auditory sense. Listening must lead to understanding and understanding to acceptance. For the Jews, it shaped both their culture and world-view. This is how Moses describes the supreme revelation on Mount Sinai: “Then the Lord spoke to you out of the fire. You heard the sound of words but saw no form; there was only a voice” (Dt 4:12). There was a profound difference between the two civilisations of antiquity that between them shaped the culture of the West: ancient Greece and ancient Israel. The Greeks were the supreme masters of the visual arts: art, sculpture, architecture and the theatre. Their culture focused on sight. Jews, as a matter of profound religious principle, were not. God, the sole object of worship, is invisible. He transcends nature. He created the universe and is therefore beyond the universe. He cannot be seen. In fact, it was strictly prohibited to make a visible representation of God.

The God of Israel reveals Himself only in speech. Yes, His presence was sometimes mediated by angelic beings and natural and supernatural phenomena like a pillar of cloud and fire, a flaming bush, lightning and thunder. But though these pointed to God’s power and sovereignty, they were never understood to be a visible manifestation of God, just signs of His presence. Therefore, the supreme religious act in Judaism is to listen. Ancient Greece, on the other hand, was a culture of the eye; ancient Israel a culture of the ear. The Greeks worshipped what they saw; Israel worshipped what they heard. We Christians, thankfully, are heirs of both culture and our liturgy perfectly expresses both paradigms. Both hearing and seeing mark the two pillars of our sacramental economy and the Holy Mass.

When God chooses to reveal Himself to us, He is revealing His will for us, He is giving us His Law. The primary meaning of the word Torah is the Law! It would seem to follow that a book of laws or commandments must have a verb that means “to obey”, for that is the whole purpose of an imperative. Yet there is no verb in biblical Hebrew that means to obey. The closest word to obedience is “listen.” Where there seems to be a lacunae in the Hebrew language, the word for “obedience” in Latin binds the two concepts - “obidere” means “to listen, to submit and to be responsible.”

Despite its intense focus on Divine commandments, the Jewish faith is not a faith that values blind, unthinking, unquestioning obedience. There is no true listening or authentic obedience, if we do not internalise the commandments. The God of revelation is also the God of creation and redemption. Therefore, when God commands us to do certain things and refrain from others, it is not because His will is arbitrary but because He cares for the integrity of the world as His work, and for the dignity of the human person as His image. He reveals His laws to us, He commands us to obey, because He loves us, and He wants us to make love the foundation of our entire being and way of behaving and relating.

This is how we must understand the two-fold commandment of love. It is insufficient that we hear the command to love God and neighbour and profess it with our lips and then claim to know it. Listening must lead to understanding and understanding lead to acceptance, but such acceptance must be shown forth in action. To prove ourselves to be good listeners, it must be “seen” in our actions.

That is why it is not enough that our Lord enunciates the commandment of love and commands us to listen. That is the theory. He then demonstrates the perfect fulfilment of this commandment through an example which can be seen - His own death and resurrection. On the cross, we hear His words of complete abandonment and obedience to the Father and on the cross, we saw the most powerful testimony and evidence of His love.

This is how we should treat the commandment of love as how the Jews treated the Shema. It is the greatest command and the first prayer a Jewish child was taught to say. God gave His people the Shema and instructed them to recite it daily, memorise it, meditate on it, teach it, instruct it, put it on their clothing and post it on the doorframes of their home. God wanted to remind them of loving God with all their heart, soul, mind and strength every time they woke up, put on their clothes and entered or left the home. It is the quintessential expression of the most fundamental belief of Judaism.

Likewise, for us Christians too. Love must be the quintessential expression of the most fundamental belief of Christianity. For the Jews, following the Law or the Torah was their way of expressing this fundamental commandment. But for us Christians, we fulfil this commandment by imitating Christ. Our Lord is essentially saying, “to follow Me is to love God and to love others.” In the Gospel of John, our Lord tells us, “A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are My disciples…” (John 13:34-35). The newness of this commandment is not found in its content but in its standard. Christ is the new standard. He is the Incarnation of love whom we can listen to and see. And therefore, if we wish to love God and neighbour, we should love as He did.

Broken but not Beaten

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

As much as we hope to see the Church grow in size and influence, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, the future Pope Benedict XVI, made this prophecy back in 1969 which has been proven to be true, at least in the West as we have witnessed, a free fall drop in members and vocations:
“From the crisis of today the Church of tomorrow will emerge — a Church that has lost much. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so it will lose many of her social privileges (…) And so it seems certain to me that the Church is facing very hard times. The real crisis has scarcely begun. We will have to count on terrific upheavals.”

This prophecy seems to be in the vein of the doomsday prophecies so commonly uttered and recorded in the Old Testament - all fire and brimstone and destruction. On the surface, the words of Pope Benedict do little to inspire but rather can be a cause for despair. Perhaps, this is reflective of the life of the blind Bartimaeus before his chanced meeting with the Lord. Like Bartimaeus, when thinking about the terminal diagnosis given about the Church, it is easy to wallow in self-pity, to complain about our dire situation and view everything around us through the lenses of darkness. And yet the good news is that light shines brightest in the dark.

In the first reading, the Prophet Jeremiah is commanded by God to make the following announcement to the remnant population of a decimated nation: “Shout with joy for Jacob! Hail the chief of nations! Proclaim! Praise! Shout: ‘The Lord has saved his people, the remnant of Israel!’” In the midst of disaster and national tragedy, the prophet declares that God is the father to Israel, and in fact, Israel is His cherished first-born son - the sole heir to His inheritance according to the law of primogeniture. Who are these remnants? The idea of a “remnant” sounds either like the survivors of some Holocaust or a band of puritanical hold-outs who have kept themselves unsullied from the depravity of their present age. But this is not the biblical understanding of the word, even among the Jews.

According to an ancient Jewish tradition, the universe is sustained by the presence of at least thirty-six tzadikim, or “righteous ones”, in every generation. The story of Abraham’s intercession on behalf of the evil cities of Sodom and Gomorrah may have inspired this tradition. Just like any good apocalyptic prophecy which continues to maintain the suspense, no one knows the identity of those tzadikim. They are humble souls who quietly pray and perform good deeds for the benefit of the world. Just like the description given in Hebrews of the role of the High Priest, as someone who “has been taken out of mankind and is appointed to act for men in their relations with God, to offer gifts and sacrifices for sins.” And so, it is believed that God does not judge the world on account of these saintly “remnant” souls.

If the understanding of what a remnant means is connected to the presence of this mysterious group of righteous saints, a pattern seems to emerge here which should allow us to understand the nature and mission of the remnant. The remnant is neither the victim of God’s wrath nor do they delight in it. Quite the contrary: the remnant exists to appease it. They never take advantage of their status as righteous ones in the eyes of the Lord to call fire and brimstone to rain on the sinners’ heads, but they pity the sinners and sacrifice themselves for them, even the unrepentant ones. They are not harbingers of God’s justice, rather they are the emissaries of His mercy. Through them, God’s mercy becomes manifest to all mankind.

Therefore, the mission of a remnant Church is not resignation, nor is she to wallow in self-pity nor should she grow resentful in complaining about her plight. When we do this, we are like the crowd of by-standers and disciples who try to silence the cries of those who cry out like Bartimaeus. Rather than facilitating an encounter with the Lord, we act as His greatest detractors and become obstacles to others to make progress on the path to holiness. No, this is not the mission of the “remnant Church.” Rather than withdrawing into a cocoon of self-pity and safety, we are called to be intercessors and mediators. We should go out and redouble our efforts to share the gospel message and invite others to join the faithful remnant. We are called to uphold the true teachings of the gospel and be a beacon of light in a world seen as darkened by sin and apostasy. To those cowering in fear and shrouded in darkness like Bartimaeus, let us encourage them with this exhortation: “Courage, get up, He is calling you.”

So, let us not perceive the Church’s smallness with fear or reticence, but with faith and courage. Our voice may seem small but it is amplified with the roaring power of the Holy Spirit and Christ’s sanctifying grace working in and through the Church. Salvation will come not from success and efficiency measured by the standards of the world, but from Jesus Christ alone, who has promised never to abandon His Church. We must be joyful and content, for it is only when we’re weak that we’re strong (2 Cor 12:9-10). It is only by being the grain of mustard that we, as a Church, will be able to grow into the greatest tree in the field, where the birds from heaven will be able to roost, rest and sing (Mk 4:30-32).

In an interview, our Holy Father Pope Francis summarised the prophetic vision of Pope Benedict XVI in these words: “Pope Benedict was a prophet of this Church of the future, a Church that will become smaller, lose many privileges, be more humble and authentic and find energy for what is essential. It will be a Church that is more spiritual, poorer and less political: a Church of the little ones.” Rather than bemoan the passing of her bygone glory or seek to insulate herself in bubble-wrapping, we should rejoice at the grace of being tenderly pruned at the hands of a Loving Father, for what would emerge from this “smaller”, “humbler”, “more spiritual,” “less political” church is something that will continually surprise and excite us.

In the visionary words of Pope Benedict: “But in all of the changes at which one might guess, the Church will find her essence afresh and with full conviction in that which was always at her centre: faith in the triune God, in Jesus Christ, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world. In faith and prayer she will again recognise the sacraments as the worship of God and not as a subject for liturgical scholarship.” This is our conviction of faith and hope – that when we come to our Lord with the enduring faith of Bartimaeus, we are convinced that we will see again, we will be refreshed again, our vigour and excitement will be reignited again to follow Christ once more.

Redemptive Suffering

Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

One of the most fundamental mysteries that most religions seek to grapple with is that of suffering - what is its cause and what is its antidote? The Buddhists make existential suffering as the first of their four foundational Noble Truths. The second Noble Truth is its prognosis – desires is the cause of all suffering. Others would argue that suffering is punishment from God for one’s sinfulness and waywardness. Bad people suffer while good people are blessed and rewarded. However, our experience would often throw a wrench into this simplistic association. We all know of bad people who seem to prosper while good and innocent folks seem to suffer for no obvious reason. The unfairness of the situation often leads us to question the existence of God or perhaps view Him as a capricious and sadistic deity who loves to watch us suffer while observing our plight from the sidelines.

Our modern world tells us to avoid suffering at all cost and instead seek comfort by any means necessary, such as taking a pill to alleviate pain, or seeking divorce when marriage becomes unbearable, or giving up a project when satisfaction or results do not seem immediate. The world sees instant gratification as a right and suffering as a senseless evil to be avoided at all cost. But Christianity actually proposes that suffering can have immense value for ourselves and others. Rather than focusing on identifying the root causes of suffering which are many or attempting to run away from them, Christianity invites us to view and embrace suffering as something redemptive and salvific.

We need to be clear that suffering, in and of itself, is not naturally redemptive. It is up to us to respond in a way that gives it a redemptive value in imitation of the love with which Christ suffered for our sake. Our suffering was not originally what God had intended for us. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, “As long as he [Adam] remained in the divine intimacy, man would not have to suffer or die” (376). But Adam forfeited this gift through his disobedience. Human suffering entered the world due to the effects of original sin. God does not cause the suffering. He simply permits it to happen in our lives so that it can be used for good and not wasted.

The foundation of redemptive suffering is found in the suffering of our Lord Jesus Christ which He willingly embraced. He is the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy of the Suffering Servant which we heard in the first reading. Our Lord is the “servant” which God has pleased to crush with suffering because “by His sufferings shall my servant justify many, taking their faults on Himself.” He is the supreme High Priest described in Hebrews who had offered a sacrifice of His own flesh, a flesh united completely with our humanity. He is “one who has been tempted in every way that we are, though He is without sin.” He suffered for you and for me out of perfect divine love and catapulted the meaning of love from a warm and fuzzy feeling to an act of sacrifice, a total gift of self.

Our Lord today asked His disciples, He is asking us if we are ready to share in His redemptive suffering: “Can you drink the cup that I must drink, or be baptised with the baptism with which I must be baptised?”

So, how do we choose to make our suffering a means of redemption by uniting it with Christ. Here are some practical steps:

First, we are called to bear our suffering patiently without complaining. We can choose to be cheerful rather than be cranky, especially to those who care for us and are companions to us. The moment we grumble and complain and grow resentful, our suffering loses its redemptive value and becomes a curse.

Second, we can choose to forgive and pray for those who cause us pain instead of cursing them, or rant about them or hold a grudge against them. You can quietly offer your pain as an act of compassion for these persons, just as our Lord forgave His enemies from the cross.

Third, you can embrace the suffering and pray for endurance and perseverance. The harder it gets, the more redemptive it becomes. This was the conviction of little St Therese de Lisieux when she joined the Carmelite monastery at the young age of 15. She would later explain that her vocation was motivated by her desire to offer her suffering for others. And she did suffer grievously both physically and mentally, while offering up her suffering for the salvation of souls.

Lastly, choose the path of humility and even that which brings humiliation as our Lord exhorts in today’s gospel - to be the last instead of being first, to be the least instead of being the greatest, to be a servant instead of being a master for “the Son of Man himself did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

Choose and offer these acts of sacrificial suffering for other people’s salvation as an act of love and a desire of their ultimate good, which is heaven. By uniting our suffering to Christ and offering it to God in self-sacrificial love we become like Christ, who offered His suffering in self-sacrificial love so that we might receive the reward of eternal life. In this ultimate gift, we see that suffering not only can play a role in our own salvation but also in helping others obtain salvation.

Let me end with this beautiful catechesis from the great Cure D’Ars, St Jean Marie Vianney:

“There are two ways of suffering – to suffer with love, and to suffer without love. The saints suffered everything with joy, patience, and perseverance, because they loved. As for us, we suffer with anger, vexation, and weariness, because we do not love. If we loved God, we should love crosses, we should wish for them, we should take pleasure in them… We should be happy to be able to suffer for the love of Him who lovingly suffered for us.”

Wisdom pursues eternal life

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

If you had a chance to walk through the main doorway of what was once the greatest church in Christendom, the Church of Hagia Sophia (now relegated to a working mosque), a privilege that was once reserved only for emperors and their consorts, your attention would be immediately drawn to the strange mosaic icon on the tympanum which depicts a scene of an emperor kneeling, almost prostrating himself before an enthroned Christ, the Hagia Sophia (Holy Wisdom). The kneeling monarch is Leon VI or better known as Leon the Wise. He is not specifically famous for his intellect but had earned the notoriety of being married many times with even rumours of him killing his wives in order to be free to marry again. He was the Henry VIII of Byzantium. Leon took a mistress as his concubine and after she had given him a son, decided to make her his fourth wife, which could only be done after having performed a long penance and having made a vow to not seek any further marriage. Thus, the image appears to depict the repentant Leon begging for mercy.

Leon serves as a symbol for all other emperors who have passed through these doors. While the walls of this Church is littered with the royal portraits of other emperors and their consorts occupying seats of honour on the left and right of an image of the enthroned Christ, only here do we have a clue to the answer to the rich young ruler’s question in our gospel: “Good master, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” True wisdom is to be found in humbly kneeling before the One who is the True Source of Wisdom, Christ. He is indeed the source of eternal life. No amount of accomplishments, wealth, power or influence or even virtuous deeds can win us that honour. The hubris of believing oneself to be important, on the other hand, is the epitome of abject folly.

It is obvious that the man who is a seeker in today’s gospel had not internalised the words found in the Book of Wisdom: “I esteemed her more than sceptres and thrones; compared with her, I held riches as nothing. I reckoned no priceless stone to be her peer, for compared with her, all gold is a pinch of sand, and beside her silver ranks as mud.” In Luke’s gospel he is described as a “ruler,” someone of authority and of important social standing. Furthermore, all three synoptic gospels speak of him as a man of great wealth. If he had truly grasped the real worth of “eternal life” which he sought, our Lord’s challenge to go and sell everything and to give the money to the poor would have been easy. His reaction to our Lord’s challenge betrays his real priorities - his wealth was more valuable to him than the eternal life which he claims to be seeking. When it came down to a simple choice between the two, he chose the former, which meant he chose to walk away from Christ.

But to be fair to the rich young ruler, there is depth to his question, something which most of us would never ask God if we were given a blank cheque. The usual list would certainly include wealth, health and success. But to ask for eternal life - that item would most likely not appear on our average radar. Perhaps, it could be argued that this man had already attained all three commonly sought after achievements and felt that there was only one thing lacking - the last item on his bucket list - eternal life. Our Lord had rightly noted that there is one thing he lacked - but the irony is that his “lack,” the emptiness in this man’s life was due to the fact that he lacked nothing. He claimed to have achieved and possessed everything, even in keeping the commandments. When man lacks nothing, he will have no need for God.

This is the reason why the first of the beatitudes speak of the happiness and pronounces a blessing on the poor. The beatitudes are not meant to canonise poverty as a virtue in itself. Jesus is not praising poverty. He is calling His disciples to acknowledge their own powerlessness and utter dependence on God. For who are the poor but those who do not have the resources to meet their own needs. They are poor to the extent that they recognise that everything we are and everything we have, is a gift from God on whom we are totally dependent. The “poor”, therefore, are those who welcome the good news. They are the ones who are ready to “follow” the Lord, because they have no possessions or achievements or accomplishments that will hold them back from this path. This is the wisdom of Christian discipleship, which the world scorns and condemns as folly.

The rich, who are already satisfied with what they possess, or continue to desire for more of such treasures, have little appreciation for the greatest treasure of all - the kingdom of God. They are already self-sufficient and would be unwilling to recognise their own powerlessness, poverty and need for God. Their pride causes them to be self-reliant and closed themselves to the graces and blessings of God. They are the foolish ones even as they scoff those Christians who have chosen to prioritise God and His Kingdom above all else.

The poor, on the other hand, are happy and blessed because they recognise their total dependence on God. In this world, they may have nothing which they can boast of, and yet they are rich beyond measure in the kingdom of heaven, because such riches are not part of this world which is passing, but they are part of a realm that will never pass away.

Now, though the hidden logic of this way of thinking is apparent now but it begs the question, is this practical or even doable? The disciples thought otherwise as they exclaimed in utter despair: “who can be saved?” It is here that our Lord reveals another layer of wisdom to them. Salvation is never just a matter of personal effort, no matter how heroically holy we strive to become. Our Lord reminds them and all of us as well: “For men … it is impossible, but not for God: because everything is possible for God.” Without the sacraments, without the Mass and confession and the prayers of friends, neighbours, saints, and angels, without God’s grace, where would we be? Be assured of this - God doesn’t give you any challenge He won’t send you the grace to handle. If you’re faithful to His calling, you will survive; you will thrive; you will inherit eternal life.

Many decline the path to holiness because they are anxious about failing, even before they have even tried. But the “good news” is that it’s not wholly up to you. The “good news” also involves the way of the Cross. Many of us think we need a beginner’s hack, an extra push, a miraculous spark of luck to get to where we need to go. We forget we need what only Christ’s eternal victory over sin and death can provide. But don’t be in a hurry to see quick results or push your timetable which you expect Him to keep. He’ll do things on His schedule, and not a moment earlier. The process takes time. It takes effort. It requires faith. But the final results are not in doubt: God will make what seems impossible possible. So, in the meantime, as the Book of Wisdom suggests, pray that understanding may be given to you; entreat, that the Spirit of Wisdom may come to you, and as you fall at the feet of the Lord of Lords, He will confer on you what no one else can give – the gift of eternal life.

You complete me

Twenty Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

For those who had lived through the 90s, Jerry Maguire must have been one of the most iconic romantic movies of all times. I know that most Gen Z’s would be scratching their heads, “Jerry Who?” It starred Tom Cruise, most famous for his looks than his acting skills, next to an almost unknown actress. The most famous tagline of the movie became one of the most popular “pick-up” lines used to express one’s undying love and desperate need for the other - “You complete me!” It sounds so awesomely romantic to literally be unable to live without someone because a part of you is missing. I mean, you can’t get more Romeo-and-Juliet than that, right? Like, let me drink poison if we can’t be together so I won’t ever have to live without you and I would literally rather die than live without you because You… Complete…Me.

The tagline may not have been that original as it draws inspiration from the Jewish mystical tradition, that each person possesses half a soul and it is only when they have found the other half of their soul in a person whom they will spend their entire lives with, will the two halves be reunited and made whole, thus the man and the woman “complete” each other. That’s a beautiful way of describing the complementarity of husband and wife but it is far from our Christian understanding of marriage and the person. A man does not complete a woman nor a woman a man in marriage. If this were so, then they can also choose to end this union as quickly and simply as they had sealed it. Rather, it is as our Lord reminds us, “what God has united, man must not divide.” We are, in fact, full persons, created in the image of God in need of no one but Jesus Christ. It is He who completes us!

Jerry Maguire might be right about one thing—Yes, we are incomplete people. But it’s not because we’re unmarried or that we have yet to find the other half of our soul. It’s because God has “put eternity in the heart of man” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and that “His invisible attributes…have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world” (Romans 1:19-20). Without Him, we are incomplete, lacking something, missing a critical part of our soul. Notice that when God is absent in our lives, we will always try to fill that bottomless hole and make up for that inexhaustible absence with other things - things which can provide temporary relief but continue to remind us of what is perennially missing and which can only be satiated by God and God alone. And until He is the one to fill that hole, you’ll be incomplete. If there is one line which can utterly beat the Jerry Maguire line it should be this famous quote from St Augustine: “(O God) you have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

One of the ways our Lord completes someone is by giving him a “helpmate.” In response to Adam’s lonely plight, God created for him an “ezer” translated as “helpmate.” The English translation is inadequate and, in our day, we may use the word “helper” in the sense of a maid, a domestic helper. But that is far from the meaning of the Hebrew word used to describe the first woman in the first reading. This is not the only occasion where the Hebrew word appears. In fact, it appears 21 times in total in the Old Testament. In two cases it refers to the first woman, Eve. Three times it refers to powerful nations Israel called on for help when besieged. In the sixteen remaining cases the word refers to God as our help. He is the one who comes alongside us in our helplessness.

This last reference of the noun “ezer” provides us with the context of how to understand the other instances when the word is used. It does not suggest 'helper' as in 'servant,' but help, saviour, rescuer, protector as in 'God is our help.' In no other occurrence in the Old Testament does this refer to an inferior, but always to a superior or an equal...'help' expresses that the woman is a help/strength who rescues or saves man. The woman was not created to serve the man, but to serve WITH the man. Without the woman, the man was only half the story. She was not an afterthought or an optional adjunct to an independent, self-sufficient man. God said in Genesis 2:18 that without her, the man's condition was "not good." God's intention in creating the woman for the man was for the two to be partners in stewarding God's creation.

Therefore, all of you are to be a helpmate to each other for so much more than mere intimate friendship and companionship. The old penny Catechism reminds us that we are created solely for God and for heaven – to know God, to love Him, to serve Him and be with Him in Paradise forever. If this is life’s main purpose, and it is truly a tall order, then we seriously are in need of help. The good news is that God gives us that help, but He also provides help, for most people, through a spouse, a friend, a community member, or a priest. God has created each of us not as lone travellers but ‘indispensable companions’ in our journey to heaven. The purpose of that helpmate must be to help us achieve the main purpose of our lives NOT to accomplish our own selfish, self-centred and myopic agendas. We are to help each other worship, obey, love God and be with Him in Paradise forever. We are to help each other get to heaven. In the case of a marriage, if this doesn’t become a couple’s life project, they may actually end up dragging each other to hell.

Finding a lifelong friend or being married, doesn’t mean that you’ve exorcised loneliness into the furthest regions of the universe. The spectre of loneliness trails many good couples and plagues even the best of marriages and friendships. And loneliness may often tempt us to find false substitutes in adulterous relationships, pornography, addictions and workaholism. Where does such loneliness come from? Well, we return to the story in Genesis. In the beginning, it was a literal paradise of fulfilling relationships as God in an unhindered way walked with Adam and Eve in the garden and they enjoyed the fullest experience of intimacy with each other. But how did the demon of loneliness infect their hearts? Well, the simple answer is sin – disobedience to God’s will and purpose. Sin is refusing to allow God to “complete” us. Notice how Adam and Eve hid from God out of fear of getting caught, and Adam blamed Eve for his disobedience, which clearly drove a wedge into their flawless intimacy. And the deep fellowship on every satisfying level is now replaced by alienation, blame, distrust, and shame.

The lesson here is huge. Living a God-less life ultimately leads us to a love-less life. Living for what’s “best for me,” while ignoring the needs, wishes, and interests of others always brings alienation and aloneness. Thank God that He has made a way for us to restore relationships and to recapture a portion of the intimacy of Eden. When we follow the way of Jesus and live to love and serve others, aloneness gives way to intimacy and our self-serving acts of alienation dissolve into a profound bonding that reflects the complete and perfect harmony of the Three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity. Between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there exists no conflict of will, no battle for dominance, no petty struggle to be identified or appreciated independently of the other. There exists only the perfect communion of love, and a blessed oneness of purpose and intent and action. Without Him, we will continue to be restless and listless, for only God can complete us, you and me.

Sin should never be tolerated

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Tolerance is a highly valued attribute in today’s culture, perhaps seen as its greatest virtue. According to this value system, the only thing which cannot be tolerated is an intolerant person. This is why Christianity, the Church and our set of moral teachings are most frequently vilified because they are perceived by the world’s magnanimous standards as rigidly intolerant. Should anyone in the Church have the audacity of proposing a set of moral norms to us, they would most likely be met with this question: “who are you to judge?”

Today’s passage is made up of two sections which provide us with what seems to be opposite ends of a spectrum. The first part seems to have an extremely tolerant and inclusive Jesus reprimanding His own disciples for their narrow-minded intolerance. However, our Lord in the second part launches into this vitriolic diatribe against those who cause scandals and in fact, even condemns them to destruction and hell fire should they fall into error. So, how do we make sense of this bi-polarity? Is our Lord Jesus the model of tolerance or intolerance? I believe the question is misguided. Our Lord is neither the epitome of tolerance or intolerance. Tolerance has nothing to do with His actions. Context is needed in reading both sections.

Let’s begin with the first section. Pay close attention to the words used by the Apostle John in his complaint to the Lord: “Master, we saw a man who is not one of us casting out devils in your name; and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him.” Take note that this man who is the subject of John’s complaint is being accused of not being “one of us,” the “us” here specifically referring to the Twelve Apostles who had been chosen and commissioned by the Lord to preach and cast out demons. There is no indication that this man is not one of our Lord’s followers; he could very well have been a disciple or follower of the Lord, as is evidenced by the fact that this man casts out demons using the name of Jesus and not his own nor by any other power. It would appear that the Apostles, or at least John, thought that this authority was exclusively theirs and they had a monopoly over these matters. They had forgotten that their authority is derived from the Lord who can choose to share it with anyone whom He chooses.

A similar situation is narrated in the first reading, where it is Joshua who complains to Moses that two men who were not part of the original group of seventy elders were now exercising the authority of prophecy. Moses answered him, “Are you jealous on my account? If only the whole people of the Lord were prophets, and the Lord gave his Spirit to them all!” This is an important reminder that the Spirit of God blows where He wills and who are we to put limits on His actions. We should be rejoicing at God's generosity rather than complain out of jealousy if He chooses to favour others. Although we must respect the freedom of God to give what He wills where He wills it, there must also be prudent discernment of spirits to ascertain whether the origin of such action or teaching is the Holy Spirit or from some other source. As St Paul reminds us in 1 Thes 5:21-22, “But examine everything carefully; hold fast to that which is good; abstain from every form of evil.”

In the case of the gospel, our Lord provides us with a criterion of discernment: “no one who works a miracle in my name is likely to speak evil of me. Anyone who is not against us is for us.” Is our Lord advocating some form of indifferentism, that all religions, all philosophies and all churches are the same and equal paths to salvation? Notice that our Lord is not asking His disciples to accept, include and tolerate all and sundry. Blind tolerance is not the objective of the Church. Those who are the enemies of truth, the enemies of the teachings of Christ and His Church, those who serve values opposed to ours, can never be accepted nor tolerated. To tolerate such behaviour would be to work against the very mission of Christ and the commission given to the Church. It is for this reason that heresy (erroneous or false teaching), apostasy (total renunciation of the Catholic Faith) and schism (disobedience against the legitimate authority of the Church) are met with the harshest of penalties - excommunication. One cannot claim to be “with us”, if the person or persons are clearly working “against us.” For this reason, we cannot shake hands with a false gospel or cooperate with those who would lead the flock astray.

This becomes clear in the second half of the passage. Those who are in fact working against the Body of the Christ, leading others astray are to be met with zero tolerance. Don’t take it from me. Listen to what the Lord Himself had to say: “anyone who is an obstacle to bring down one of these little ones who have faith, would be better thrown into the sea with a great millstone round his neck.” The word translated as “obstacle” is “skandalon” in Greek, which literally means “to trip up, to make someone fall.” This is what scandals do - they cause others to sin. Our Lord reserved His harshest condemnation for such a scenario - it is better that they meet with a Mafia-like execution than to continue leading others into error. Traditionally, this is reflected in the Latin maxim “error non habet ius,” “error has no rights!”

The irony we see in today’s world is that maximum tolerance is accorded to all forms of depraved behaviour where sexual sins are often presented as legitimate alternative life styles which need to be recognised and celebrated. Today’s society applauds itself for being highly enlightened and open-minded and that those who would take offence with such behaviour and lifestyles are the ones who should be opposed for their rigidity and bigotry.

Rather than construing the last few statements of our Lord in today’s passage as evidence of our Lord advocating some form of hudud punishment in the form of bodily mutilation, we need to recognise the ecclesial and symbolic meaning of His words. If St Paul describes the Church as the Body of Christ, what we are seeing here is the fundamental basis for the penalty of excommunication. Excommunication excludes the offender from taking part in the Eucharist or other sacraments and from the exercise of any ecclesiastical office, ministry, or function. On the face of it, it sounds unreasonably harsh. But we need to remember that excommunication is meant to be corrective and remedial, rather than punitive. By the penalty of excommunication, the Church does not condemn anyone. Rather it is a teaching tool - it is meant to emphasise the seriousness of certain sins or offences that cuts a person off from sacramental grace. Without this warning, the person may be deluded to continue in his or her error and wrongdoing.

Certainly, there are many things which we must learn to endure - the quirks and idiosyncrasies of others. God knows we have our own annoying traits which others have to put up with for the most part. But there is something which cannot be tolerated and should never be tolerated even in the name of being nice and peaceable - it is sin. Sin corrupts not only our lives but the community. But just like God, we must show forbearance and mercy to the sinner with the hope and expectation of his repentance. If we truly love our neighbour, then it is our fundamental duty where possible to reach out and lead him or her to the truth and to righteousness. We do so not because we are envious or judgmental. Charity demands we do something to stop the rot and prevent the person from being "thrown into hell where their worm does not die nor their fire go out." Let us never forget that it is not our reputation but the salvation of every soul which is at stake.

The opposite of Envy is Love

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

One of the most destructive attitudes you will find in any family, community or even the Church is envy. Even the disciples of the Lord were not immune to its influence. This may be the reason why they were arguing over who is the greatest. Likewise, the enemies of our Lord were also envious of His popularity and growing influence. Their hostility and opposition toward the Lord were not just motivated by a desire for self-improvement or advancement. They were incensed by His success and gleefully plotted His downfall which they had actually achieved when our Lord was crucified. St James puts it perfectly in the second reading: “Wherever you find jealousy and ambition, you find disharmony, and wicked things of every kind being done…”

The Angelic Doctor, St Thomas Aquinas defines envy as “sorrow for another’s good.” Just think for a moment about how squarely malicious envy is based on this definition. In fact, just as pride is the opposite of humility, envy can be thought of as the opposite of love. Love desires the good of the other; envy is its opposite. Love says, “I’m happy when you’re happy, and I’m sad when you’re sad.” Envy says, “I’m happy when you’re sad, and I’m sad when you’re happy.” Could anything be more terrible? Envy is a sibling of hatred. Whereas covetousness is an inordinate longing for what someone else has, envy goes further, wanting the other person to lose what he has. Wherever envy exists, hatred also resides—and misery follows.

But here’s the painful irony, envious people believe that they will be happy when their rival or foe has been shamed or defeated but their victory would prove to be pyrrhic. You see envy is the constant thief of joy. Most sins have an up-front sweetness but a bitter aftertaste. Envy, meanwhile, is bitter as you do it and bitter afterward—doubly miserable. Envy can take any gift of God and make it rot; it can turn heaven into hell.

Rather than wishing the worse on our enemies we should be praying for them, encouraging them and even choosing to be in solidarity with them. Our Lord once again repeats His prophecy that He would have to suffer grievously at the hands of His enemies. Instead of showing empathy and offering to share His sorrow and burden, the disciples choose to deflect, change the topic and selfishly descend into navel gazing and self-pity. Our Lord, instead of remonstrating them for their insensitivity, begins to instruct them on the new paradigm of a disciple and how to love their neighbour as the Saviour does, even when He is personally undergoing pain and distress.

In the face of the disciples’ ambition for first places, honours and privileges so contrary to His teaching, our Lord points the way of suffering, surrender, humility and charity: “If anyone wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and servant of all.” While those of the world choose to ascend the ladder of success, power and prestige, Christians must take a different path and avoid the personal failings of ambition, pride and search for power and dedicate our lives in service to others. The former would foster a culture of dog-eat-dog, stepping over the corpses of others to get to where we want to go. It is fuelled by envy, where our humanity is sacrificed. The Christian’s path, on the other hand, must imitate the condescension of our Lord - humility expressed in self-giving and service to others. Like allowing soap to penetrate the deepest caverns of a dirty wound, we must allow humility to penetrate the deepest caverns of our envy. As we pursue humility—including by praying for and encouraging those we’re tempted to envy—we can be confident God will reward us with life, joy, and freedom.

The last bit of instruction is often taken as either a lesson in hospitality shown especially to the weak who cannot repay our favour or a call to emulate the innocence and simplicity of a child, the prerequisite for humility. But our Lord makes this call unique by tying the welcoming of a child to welcoming Him. Yes, this last line points to the need to show hospitality and express humility, but also provides us the standard by which these things are done. Once again, our Lord is turning the question of greatness on its head. There is no need for us to be envious of each other in that we attempt to outdo each other even in the area of Christian virtue. The standard by which we should set our eyes on is Christ Himself, and certainly no one can claim to be greater than Him. So, rather than compete in getting ahead of the other, we must constantly seek to imitate our Lord in every way, especially in His Incarnation. Christ did become a “child” who was welcomed by some but rejected by others and those who rejected Him failed to see that they had rejected the Heavenly Father who had sent Him.

In contrast to the blueprints provided by life coaches on how to be successful and getting ahead in life, this passage provides us with a blueprint for an incarnational discipleship. Firstly, we are all called to follow the example of His great humility in coming down from heaven to earth (Phil 2: 5-8). We are to be like Christ in His Incarnation in the amazing self-humbling which lies behind the Incarnation.

Secondly, we are to be like Christ in His service. We move on now from His Incarnation to His life of service; from His birth to His life, from the beginning to the end, from His birth to the Last Supper and finally, to His death on the cross.

Thirdly, we are to be like Christ in His love. Love is the wisdom from above. As St James teaches: “the wisdom that comes down from above is essentially something pure; it also makes for peace, and is kindly and considerate; it is full of compassion and shows itself by doing good; nor is there any trace of partiality or hypocrisy in it.”

So, rather than seek to be ahead of others and be envious of those who seem to do better, let us learn to be more Christ-like. But this begs the question: is it attainable? In our own strength it is clearly not attainable, but God has given us His Holy Spirit to dwell within us, to change us from within. As long as we hold on to our prideful stubbornness, it would remain humanly impossible. But if we assume the attitude of a child filled with awe and wonder, a hapless child who cannot do things for himself but rely on the strength and help of others, all things are possible with God!

There can be no gospel without the cross

Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Today’s gospel reading takes us to the structural centre and turning point in the Gospel of St Mark. It highlights this important truth in life - sometimes when you think you’ve got the right answer only to discover that you were wrong due to some prior presumption. In answering our Lord’s question, “who do you say I am”, St Peter gives the correct answer but we would soon see that he lacks complete understanding of what he had just blurted out.

He is like the blind man of Bethsaida whose miraculous healing had just taken place prior to this episode. No other miracle is like this one. The healing involved a two-stage process – a first part which was only partially successful while complete healing only took place after our Lord had spat into the eyes of the blind man (I understand that even the thought of someone spitting into your eyes will disgust you). The two-stage process was not the result of any inadequacy on the part of our Lord but was meant to be instructive. Peter and all the disciples, including us, are like that blind man. We too need to have our eyes of faith opened in stages, and this is what we witness in today’s passage.

At the beginning of this passage, our Lord asked two questions of the disciples: one concerning the view of the people regarding Himself, and another concerning the disciples' own view of Him. The first question elicited the current speculations that was circulating in the market of opinions - that He was John the Baptist back from beyond the grave, that He was Elijah who was expected to return before the arrival of the great and terrible Day of the Lord, and finally, that He was a prophet in the line of prophets from the Old Testament, just like how many had thought of John the Baptist. Never once is it recorded that the populace had even the slightest inkling that this is the Messiah. They thought of Him as one who was looking for another yet to come, and there is no indication that they ever got beyond that view.

But now our Lord cuts through the popular speculations and demands an answer from His own disciples. “But you … yes you … who do you say I am?” They could no longer hide behind the opinions of others. Our Lord now confronts them with this penetrating question which demands an honest answer. Their answer will either reveal their knowledge or expose their ignorance. The disciples had been the only ones privy to the secrets and mysteries revealed by the Lord. Peter's reply is immediate and definite: "You are the Christ." And this is indeed the correct answer. All that the Lord had done up to that point had been designed to lead them to this understanding of who He was, that they might then answer their own question.

"Christ" is simply the Greek form of the Hebrew word "Messiah". They mean exactly the same thing. And it is not a name, but a title. Jesus is His name, Christ is His office. And, in either the Greek or the Hebrew form, it means The Anointed One, or the One anointed by God. In the Old Testament there were two offices which required anointing: king, and priest. Our Lord, therefore, fulfils both roles but in a most perfect and unexpected way. And it is clear from what happens next that Peter’s and the other disciples’ understanding of the significance of this title is still not up to par. They were still stuck in their Old Testament categories and contemporary expectations of a political messiah whose mission was confined to the political liberation and restoration of the kingdom of Israel. For this reason, the Lord commanded them to remain quiet about this knowledge and not spread it because it would only fuel more false expectations of His mission.

We can see why the Lord did this, in the light of the story of the blind man which preceded this passage. This is that first touch, which opened their eyes to partial truth. They saw Him, but not clearly. They were astounded by Him, amazed and dazzled and fascinated, but not comprehending of what He really was like. They still require the second touch.

And the second touch came in the form of our Lord’s prediction about His passion and death. This was so essential to understanding His office and mission as the Messiah that our Lord repeated it three times, each time with additional details. In other words, to truly understand our Lord as the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah, the Anointed One of God, they must see Him in the light of the cross. This is where the image of the Suffering Servant mentioned in the first reading is woven into the prophecies of the Old Testament. The Saviour of Israel and indeed of the World, is also the One who comes not to be served but to serve and to give His life as ransom for many (Mark 10:45). And this time, He said all these things about His own passion “quite openly.” There was no longer any need for secrets to avoid confusion. It is clear that they understood what He said because Peter’s immediate response would be to attempt to convince our Lord from speaking in this fashion or even contemplating “political suicide”, which rightly earned our Lord’s rebuke: “Get behind me Satan!”

Peter and any of us speak with the voice of Satan whenever we try to reason away the cross or put forward a cheap form of discipleship which demands little or no sacrifice from us. This is what Satan attempts to do - present us with a saccharine saturated Christianity of nice platitudes, big promises of blessings, a final solution to all our troubles, but a path without the cross. Christianity without the cross is not Christianity at all, but a shabby, slimy substitute. The cross is what makes it Christian.

A gospel without the cross is a gospel of "self-sufficiency," "self-reliance." And a gospel of self-sufficiency is a gospel that claims to have no need for God or grace. Embracing the cross and following Christ means entrusting ourselves to His providence and care. It means placing our trust in Him and His grace rather than in our own resources, efforts and strength. The path of discipleship necessarily involves sacrifice. And sacrifice in order to be sacrifice needs to hurt. We often tend to shield ourselves and others from pain, failure, suffering, and setbacks, failing to realise that whenever we do so, we assume the position of Peter in wanting to avoid the cross. The cross in our lives does not spell destruction but actually entails salvation.

Giving the right answer is just the first piece of a puzzle. Living the right life is what completes it. This was the lesson St Peter had to learn and which each of us disciple-wannabes, must take to heart. The call to discipleship is radical and ultimately intertwined with the cross. The cross of our Lord Jesus is inseparable from the life of a Christian. We cannot claim to want to follow Christ if we are unwilling to renounce ourselves, take up our crosses and follow Him on the Way, which He has set for us. It goes without saying that Christ and the cross, are a package deal. But, instead of seeing it as a burden to endure, a peril to flee from or a curse which we cannot avoid, recognise the cross as the only way to salvation. There can be no resurrection if there was no cross. As St. Rose of Lima said, “Apart from the cross there is no other ladder by which we may get to heaven.”