In Truth, this man was the Son of God

Palm Sunday 2021

The Passion of Christ in the Gospel of St Mark does not begin with the familiar story of the Last Supper or with our Lord’s agony in the garden. It begins with the story of an unnamed woman, who is identified as Mary of Bethany in the Gospel of St John but here she remains anonymous, breaking a jar of expensive aromatic oil and pouring its contents over the head of our Lord. Whereas in St John’s account, Mary of Bethany pours the oil on the feet of our Lord and wipes it with her hair, this unnamed woman in St Mark’s version pours it over His head.

In Matthew’s, Mark’s and John’s account of this story, the onlookers are scandalised by this exorbitant act of wastage. To understand the magnitude of her act, we are told that the oil was worth “more than three hundred denarii,” the equivalent of an entire year’s wages in those days. I guess men and women would process this differently. Women would view this as proof of one’s love, no gift is ever too pricey. But the men’s reaction to the price tag couldn’t be any more different – it would be met by sheer incredulity, “what?!” For us modern folks, I suspect that we would have been more shocked by the audacity of a stranger pouring a jar of oil over the head of your guest of honour (like a pie in the face) than worry about the cost of the prank.

But our Lord did not take this as an insult but in fact, commends her action because He understood the true value of her sacrifice. We all know that the Lord Jesus is the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah. Both these titles, the former a Greek word and the latter Hebrew, literally translates as the “Anointed One,” and this woman’s action affirms this in one spectacular theological move. In the ancient Near East, the act of anointing signified selection for some special role or task. In the Old Testament, priests, prophets and kings were anointed with oil as a symbol of receiving their authority and appointment from God. It is ironic that our Lord should receive this anointing, not at the beginning of His ministry, but at the end of it. But there is no irony if we understand that the day of His crucifixion is also the day He ascends the throne of glory.

Yes, our Lord is anointed because He is the Messianic King, but this anointing is not just meant for His coronation and ascension to the throne. It is also meant to prepare Him for His burial as it was an ancient custom to anoint bodies with fragrant oils before they were embalmed and buried. In this act of the woman, we see both the coronation and the death of our King. Aren’t these the two foundational themes of today’s liturgy? A city welcomes their king on Sunday and the same crowd proceeds to crucify Him on Friday.

This anointing also tells us that our Lord is the fulfilment of the Old Testament rites and customs involving the Passover Lamb. This is the context. The Passover lamb was chosen six days before the sacrifice. On the first day, its feet and ankles were anointed with oil, as our Lord’s feet were in John 12:1–8. For five days, it would be inspected for flaws, as our Lord was when He taught and debated in the temple (Mark 11:15–12:40). Two days before the Passover, the lamb's head would be anointed, as our Lord’s head is, here. Our Lord is indeed the Paschal Lamb, “the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world.”

Why was this woman’s action so important that it would be immortalised in the centuries to come? Well, the answer is to be found in our Lord’s commendation of her action. She had affirmed what the disciples had failed to grasp or refused to accept - that the Anointed One, the new Passover Lamb, has to be killed before He can save His people.

Our Lord had been speaking of His impending death for a while, but the Twelve were having difficulty accepting this. When the Lord told Peter that “the Messiah must be rejected, suffer, and die; then he will be raised,” Peter responded with such an impassioned protest that our Lord had to rebuke him with “get behind me Satan!” In another instance, our Lord spoke ominously of His death, and the disciples responded by debating who will be the greatest in the coming kingdom. And in another episode, James and John missed the point entirely by responding to our Lord’s prediction with requests to sit at His right and left hand.

Clearly, the Twelve struggled to conceive of a kingdom that would begin with the death of the Messiah. How could a dead Messiah raise a glorious kingdom? While others would see the establishment of kingdoms by crushing one’s mortal enemies, and this was the expectation of the crowds who welcomed our Lord triumphantly into Jerusalem, our Lord’s victory would be secured in a very different and least expected manner - by Him humbly submitting to death. I suspect this is why they complained about the “waste” of money exhibited by the anointing. They imagined that their ministry with our Lord would continue for years to come. The money gained from selling this oil could be the initial capital in funding an insurrection. But instead of arguing this, they raise the issue of the poor. This is disingenuous. Those who have an issue giving the best to God, will also find difficulty in giving to the poor. The poor are merely cited here as an excuse for their stinginess and inability to sacrifice - sacrifice being the hallmark of discipleship.

And so this unnamed woman is pivotal to the story of Mark’s Passion narrative and she becomes the first of Christ’s disciples to acknowledge His impending death. If John the Baptist is the precursor of our Lord’s ministry, this woman is the precursor of His death. For this reason, our Lord praises her in unparalleled terms. “I tell you solemnly, wherever throughout all the world the Good News is proclaimed, what she has done will be told also, in remembrance of her.” What a remarkable thought— these last words spoken of her is also spoken and heard at every Eucharist, when the priest utters these words during the consecration, “do this in memory of me.” That at every Mass, this woman’s story should be on our lips, right along with Christ’s. 

As we enter Holy Week, accompanying our Lord as He enters Jerusalem, our journey eventually leads us to the foot of the cross. There can be no other detour. That is our destination because it was our Lord’s. Through the action of this woman, we realise that our Lord’s death was not accidental, He voluntarily embraces it knowing that His Father is in control. Some people are made for certain jobs, others made for each other in marriage but our Lord was sent and anointed for this - to die for us and for our salvation. And it would be at that very last moment when He breathes His last breath on the cross, we will come to recognise the truth proclaimed by the centurion, a truth which eluded His disciples just like how they were unable to accept His death, “in truth, this man was a son of God!”

 

看一看我

2016年世界病人日

每隔五年，世界各地的主教都要会见教宗，向他报告当地教会的近况。在圣若望保禄二世担任教宗期间，有一次，当马来西亚的主教们作了相关的报告之后，教宗圣若望保禄二世说了以下很有力量的鼓励话语：“ 如果你想放弃的时候，看一看我!” 这时候的教宗，看起来已不再有年轻时的英俊潇洒、行动敏捷和高大强壮。由于年老和患上各种疾病，圣若望保禄二世已是一个病得很重的人。他说话含糊不清、身躯弯曲不能直立，时常都没有办法自行主持弥撒。因此，不管是他说的话或者是他的生命，都成了有力的见证。

在这一天，我们庆祝露德圣母庆节的日子，也是圣若望保禄二世宣布为世界病人日的一天，我们不但被邀请去反思治愈的讯息，这是受到所有病老欢迎的；同时也被邀请去反思受苦就是救赎的讯息。今天，藉着有治愈泉水而闻名的法国露德圣母，已经成为世界上最多天主教徒到访的朝圣地。然而，露德圣母要告诉世人的讯息不单只是得治愈的讯息而已，圣母的讯息一直都是悔改皈依的召叫、信德的召叫，也是一个与她的爱子结合的召叫。

圣若望保禄二世的生命和所说的话提醒我们：在我们的痛苦中，我们可以仿效基督的勇气和慈爱。当我们经历痛苦的时候，我们常常都会问“为什么?” 圣若望保禄二世告诉我们：基督并不真正给我们答复，但是祂会给我们例子。我们要常常记住：基督本身在十字架上受苦受难，祂邀请我们跟随祂，参与祂拯救世界的使命。

圣女伯尔纳德是第一位尝到露德治愈圣水奇迹的人，但是在她那短暂的生命里，却得持续背负着患病的重担。有一次，她的院长发现她竟然还留在饭厅，其他修女则出去工作了，院长便严厉地问道：“你在这里干什么？”伯尔纳德回答道：“我在忙着工作。”院长以为伯尔纳德在讽刺她，于是再问：“你到底在忙些什么工作？”伯尔纳德回答说：“我的工作就是生病。”

你们当中许多在受苦的可能会这样问：“我目前的情况，可以做些什么呢？”在人的生命中，年老和疾病两者都好像是阻挠我们达成所有希望的障碍。不过，圣若望保禄二世和圣女伯尔纳德的生命提醒我们，特别是今天到来要领受傅油圣事的你们，你们受痛苦未必是没有意义的。在圣体圣事和傅油圣事中，你将和基督结合为一。正如圣女伯尔纳德一样，你现在最大的工作就是生病。尽管在痛苦中，你还是勇敢地忍受病楚；虽然你疼痛衰弱，但还继续表现出你的爱；藉此，你显示并宣扬了基督临在的奥迹。今天，基督安慰你，祂抚慰你，祂鼓励你。如果你们有谁想要放弃的话，基督在十字架上这样对你说：“看一看我!”

Look at Me

World Day of Prayer for the Sick 2016

A few year ago, while I was in Kuching for a speaking engagement, I had the privilege of attending mass and listening to the homily delivered by Most Revd John Ha, Archbishop of Kuching, on the occasion of the beatification of the late Pope John Paul II. Only last year, the path chosen by Pope Emeritus Benedict was completed by his successor, Pope Francis, with the canonisation of this saintly Pope. Archbishop Ha shared a personally moving experience he had of Pope St John Paul during an Ad Limina visit of the bishops of the Regional Conference to Rome. He recalled that the Venerable Pope, already carrying the burden of age and the dilapidating effects of Parkinson disease, after having listened to the reports from the dioceses of the region, made this profound statement as a form of encouragement to his brother bishops. What had been a commanding charismatic voice was now reduced to slurred drawl, and yet the words were unmistakable. “If you ever feel like giving up, Look at Me.”

On this day, the day we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of Lourdes, the day declared by St John Paul II as World Day of Prayer for the Sick, we are asked to contemplate not just the message of healing, which all the sick and elderly would happily welcome, but also the message of suffering as prophecy, suffering as redemption. Today, the shrine of Lourdes in France is the most visited Catholic pilgrimage site in the world - principally because of the apparent healing properties of the waters of the spring that appeared during the apparitions of the Blessed Virgin Mary to a poor, fourteen-year-old girl, Bernadette Soubiroux. Today, many of you have come here hoping to receive some miraculous cure to your diseases. Still many others come here seeking for peace in the midst of troubles. But Our Lady of Lourdes promises more than just physical healing. The message of our Lady in Lourdes as in many other shrines all over the world remain consistent – it is a call to conversion, a call to faith, a call to unite oneself with her Son.

At this mass, I would like to speak of suffering and sickness in the light of the model presented to us by the man responsible for instituting this celebration and dedicating it to the sick – namely Pope Saint John Paul II. Karol Wojtyla, as a young man and even during the early years of his pontificate, was a picture of health, vigour and vitality. As an athlete skilled in soccer, swimming, canoeing and skiing, he exhibited a great physical presence. However, in 1981, he suffered an assassination attempt in Rome.

In the early 90s, however, a series of health problems began to take their toll. In 1992, the pope had colon surgery, involving removal of a noncancerous tumor. The next year he fell and dislocated a shoulder. In 1994, he suffered a broken femur in another fall. An appendectomy followed in 1996. During these years, moreover, a Parkinson-like condition, if not the disease itself, began to reveal its visible effects. He was entering the part of his life’s journey marked by failing health and suffering. Describing the Holy Father in the fall of 1998, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger stated: “The pain is written on his face. His figure is bent, and he needs to support himself on his pastoral staff. He leans on the cross, on the crucifix....” Certainly John Paul was beginning to lean on Christ’s cross in more ways than one.

Many observers and Catholic faithful agreed that there is something beautiful and noble in the pope’s witness. He carried his suffering in a prophetic manner. His courageous perseverance in carrying out his activities as pope, despite his physical afflictions, was a heart-lifting example for all of us. Many of us, faced with the same tests, would be tempted to shrink from public view, as if infirmity were an embarrassment or personal disgrace. Not so for this pope. He refused to go into hiding as long as he could effectively fulfil his ministry as pope. He bore his infirmities as if they were badges of honour and opportunities for imitating the courage of the suffering Christ. By bearing his sufferings boldly and publicly, he was bidding the world with that same message he gave to our Malaysian bishops, “If you ever feel like giving up, look at me.”

In 1984, he published the apostolic letter “On the Christian Meaning of Suffering.” When confronted with suffering, most of us desperately seek answers to the question ‘Why’? Why me? Why now? The pope responds by telling us that Christ does not really give us an answer to such questions, but rather a lived example. When we approach Christ with our questions about the reason for suffering, says the pope, we cannot help noticing that the one to whom we put the questions “is himself suffering and wishes to answer...from the Cross, from the heart of his own suffering.... “Christ does not explain in the abstract the reasons for suffering,” he points out, “but before all else he says: ‘Follow me!’ Come! Take part through your suffering in this work of saving the world....Gradually, as the individual takes up his cross, spiritually uniting himself to the Cross of Christ, the salvific meaning of suffering is revealed before him” (#26).

On the 2^nd of April 2005, Pope St John Paul II took his last breath and died. For a pope who has devoted his papacy to defending the right to life, his valiant battle with death was poignantly apt. Pressured to abdicate the Pontifical throne, the Venerable Pope’s reply was not that of someone who was delusional nor was he clinging on to life or to his office in defiance of death. Holding the heavy of office of his papacy to his deathbed was another sign of his faithfulness to the Cross of Christ, a faithfulness that was not going to be diminished by ill health or death.

The paradox of suffering as something redemptive and prophetic can also be seen in the seer of Lourdes, St Bernadette. Although she was singly privileged with the apparitions of Our Lady and was the first to taste the miraculous healing waters of Lourdes, she would continue carrying the burden of illness throughout her short life. In one particularly moving episode of her life, the Novice Mistress of her convent confronts Bernadette who appeared loitering in the refectory whilst her other sisters were out doing fruitful manual labour. The Novice Mistress asked her in a stern voice, ‘What do you think you are doing here?’ To which she received this reply from Bernadette, ‘I’m busy working.’ Her superior sensing sarcasm in the answer, presses, ‘Pray tell me, what are you working at?’ Bernadette replies, ‘My work is to be sick.’

Many who suffer the infirmities of aging and illness may ask the poignant question, ‘What can I possibly do in my present condition?’ Old age and illness both seem to be impediments to all the things a person hopes to achieve in his or her life. But the lives of St John Paul II and St Bernadette reminds us, especially those of you who have come today leaning on the cross of Christ, that your suffering need not be futile nor meaningless. In the sacrament of the Eucharist and in the sacrament of anointing, you will be united to Him. Just like St Bernadette, your greatest work at this point is to be sick, for in courageously bearing with your sickness, in continuing to show love despite your pain and fatigue, you reveal and proclaim the profound mystery of Christ presence even in the midst of suffering. Today, Christ comforts you. He consoles you. He encourages you. And if any of you feel like giving up, Christ from the cross says this to you, “Look at Me!”