Twin Pillars

Solemnity of Saint Peter and Saint Paul

Today’s feast is an important one in our Church’s calendar but is not one which gets the attention it deserves because it’s not always that the twenty ninth of June falls on a Sunday. So, don’t be surprised and think this is a new celebration in view of the fact that we have a newly minted Pope. It is a feast of not only one but two Apostles of the Lord, in fact, described in Tradition and in our liturgy as the Princes of the Apostles. St Peter, whose birth name was Simon, is one of the Twelve. St Paul, though not one of the Twelve and not one of the followers of the Lord while He was still on this earth, is also regarded an apostle of the Lord by his own designation in his letters. Some mistakenly believe that Paul also underwent a name change after his conversion, but he actually had two names - Saul was his Jewish name and Paul was his Latin name, since he was a Roman citizen.

Though Saints Peter and Paul were not martyred on the same day, they lived and died as twin giants for one Church and share a feast day, befitting their friendship and their leadership. There is something wonderful in these two holy heavyweights sharing a feast, forever shouldering each other like brothers in their zeal for the Father and acting as twin pillars of the Church. One of the reasons, among many, why they were paired from the earliest centuries of the Church, is not because of their association and encounters recorded in the Acts of the Apostles and Paul’s letters, but because they served as a new paradigm for the refounding of the city of Rome, contrasted with another set of siblings - the legendary twin founders of the Eternal City who were said to have been raised by a she-wolf.

According to legend, Romulus and Remus, the former after whom the city of Rome was named, were abandoned at birth and cast into the Tiber River where they were discovered by a she-wolf who nursed them. When they grew up, the twins embarked on a quest to found their own city. Romulus and Remus disagreed about which hill to build their city on. Eventually, Romulus just started digging a ditch around the Palatine Hill and built a wall to mark the boundaries. Remus mocked his brother’s work, and in a fit of anger Romulus killed him and then buried him under the wall which Romulus erected around the city. The story is reminiscent of the first account of fratricide in the Bible; Cain killed his brother Abel. It is also ironic that Rome and her empire were founded on fratricide.

Now contrast this with the re-founding of Rome through the spread of Christianity by Saints Peter and Paul. Although both were unrelated and came from vastly different backgrounds and places of origin, they would find a common home in the city of Rome where both will be martyred. It is more than coincidence that their places of martyrdom and burial would be separated by the ancient wall which had separated the two ancient founders of Rome. St Peter would be martyred and buried within the walls while St Paul would be entombed outside the walls. Two eponymous major basilicas sit above their respective tombs.

Like Romulus and Remus, Peter and Paul too had their disagreements. If anyone had a cause for strife and division, it was these two. They had little in common. Paul was the chief persecutor of the early Christians led by Peter. Even after Paul’s conversion, there were also heightened moments of tension and disagreement between the two, especially on how Gentile converts to Christianity should be treated. In fact, Paul speaks of confronting Peter to his face for backtracking on an earlier decision to welcome these Gentile converts without condition. It took divine action to make these enemies into brothers. Peter and Paul were ultimately bound together in a bond stronger than blood: the love of Christ.

It is in this love that Peter and Paul had the foundation of their relationship. Through Christ, these two men were closer than twins in the womb. Peter and Paul are often depicted together in iconography in a circle, embracing one another in a brotherly hug with expressions of affection, like a pair of twins in the womb of their mother. This orientation is also reflected in the two Roman basilicas built over their tombs. Instead of just facing East, the direction of the rising sun from which the Lord is said to return, the two basilicas face each other across the Tiber - as if perennially yearning to be united in an eternal embrace. In contrast, images of Romulus and Remus, the mythological twins, are usually facing away from each other, as one ended up killing the other.

Peter and Paul remind us that brothers can be born from unlikely sources and that the spiritual bonds of fraternity can be stronger than blood ties. What is stronger than the blood which runs through our veins is the blood shed for us on the cross, a blood which has inspired so many Christians to give up their own life’s blood in knowing that eternal glory awaits them on the other side of the threshold of death. Peter and Paul were united in such a death as this. Early Christian tradition tells us they were imprisoned together for nine months before their martyrdoms on the same day. If the Old Rome was built on fratricide, brother killing brother, the New Rome and her Kingdom were founded on fraternal love, brothers dying for each other.

Today, the effigies of these two great Apostles stand as guardians to the entrances of the major Basilica of St Peter, as stone lions would in front of Chinese temples in the East. If the stone lions were meant to keep evil and inauspicious forces out, our two saints beckon to welcome pilgrims of the world to enter. A pillar must always have a partner, and so Peter and Paul are the twin pillars that hold up the doorway of the Church. So staunch are they that the rest of the faithful must celebrate their feast days together as one. They shared their life for the Faith, and so, to this day, they share it also in the observation of their glorious entrance into life eternal. As we celebrate the Solemnity of Saints Peter and Paul, let us look to their model of fraternal correction and mutual love as we work to spread the gospel message in our own lives.

Not Born but Intentional Catholics

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Put our faith in God's love

Seventh Sunday of Easter Year B

Suspicion always surrounds someone who comes late to the game. There is even an expression coined for this person: “Johnny come lately.” His success and speed in getting promoted is often envied and resented by others who have been longer and more experienced in the game. His ability to lead and perform is doubted by those placed under his care. He lacks the respect of those who should have confidence in his ability.

Today, we hear how a Johnny-come-lately candidate in the person of Matthias was elected to join the ranks of the Twelve Apostles after the defection and the suicide of Judas Iscariot. It’s always a challenge to fill the shoes of a towering great man. I would imagine that it is so much more difficult to fill the shoes of a scoundrel, a great failure, he will always be compared to the man who betrayed the Lord and be subjected to constant scrutiny so as to not repeat the same “mistake” as the earlier candidate. The early Christian community could not risk another disastrous pick. The first time it happened, it cost the life of the Master. If there should be a second time, God forbid, it would cost them the future of the Church.

It was important that the Twelve chosen by Jesus should remain at Twelve, even after the defection of Judas, for this is the number of the tribes of Israel, and the Church is the new Israel, the new People of God. What criteria should be required of Judas’ replacement? It would certainly not be impeccability, as all the Twelve had fallen and made mistakes, and not just Judas. St Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit, set out one simple criterion for the candidate to fill the vacancy: “We must therefore choose someone who has been with us the whole time that the Lord Jesus was travelling round with us … and he can act with us as a witness to his resurrection.”

So, this was the sole criterion for choosing Matthias to fill the vacancy left by Judas’ exit. But there was also another candidate who fulfilled the criterion - Barsabbas. Before they drew lots to pick the candidate, the group prayed for guidance, proclaimed their trust in God and went on to cast lots and the lot fell on Matthias who became one of the Apostles. Despite, the commendation to God in prayer, it is important to note that the method of choice of the twelfth member is itself significantly deficient - drawing lots does appear to leave everything to chance just as one would seek direction from God by flipping the pages of the Bible and allowing your eyes to fall on the first words of the text that is presented to you. This has less to do with faith than it is to believing in some form of divination. We need to remember that the Holy Spirit has not yet come upon the members of the community at Pentecost to fill their minds and hearts and so enable them to select the twelfth member in a way that is both human and inspired.

Now, does this mean that after Pentecost the election of a bishop or even a Pope, who are successors of the Apostles, is always a candidate chosen directly by the Holy Spirit? This is a common question asked by many especially when they have doubts over the choice of the successful candidate. The answer, of course, is that the Holy Spirit was doing what He is always doing, prompting all involved to cast their votes for the good of the Church. But the Holy Spirit does not choose the pope; that is left to the vagaries of men, and the vagaries of their response to grace. Sometimes His grace is accepted and sometimes it is rejected. God does not impose His will on our freedom to choose.

What does this mean? The Holy Spirit does not arrange the votes so that the best possible candidate is elected. In other words, it is not divinely rigged! The Holy Spirit does not guarantee that the best candidate would be elected bishop or pope. To believe that there is such a guarantee is simply naive and chooses to ignore factual history that we’ve had many deficient candidates and scandalously bad bishops and popes. Although there is no guarantee whatsoever that the choice will reflect God’s active will, the choice of a particular man as pope obviously fits within God’s permissive will.

Happily, the Catholic Church enjoys some Divine guarantees. Christ promised to be with the Church to the end of time, and that the gates of hell would not prevail against her. This means essentially that the Holy Spirit will not permit the Church’s Divine constitution to be lost, that the fullness of all the means of salvation will always be available in the Church, that the Church’s sacraments will always be powerful sources of grace, that the Church’s Magisterial teachings will be free from error, and that the Church will remain the mystical body of Christ under the headship of our Lord Himself, as represented by His Vicar, Peter’s successor.

In the gospel, we see our Lord interceding on behalf of His disciples and the Church, praying that her members will remain united, that they will remain true to God’s name which is His will, that they would be consecrated to the truth, and none be lost. Though our Lord assures us and guarantees that He would be interceding on our behalf as the perfect High Priest, there is no guarantee that what He prayed for would always be realised because of man’s free will. Our rebellion against His divine will is evidenced by centuries of schism, apostasy and heresy, where many including Church leaders have worked against the unity of the Church and distorted her teachings by substituting it with erroneous interpretations.

With Pope Francis’ recent revelation that there were human machinations and lobbying among the cardinals during the conclave which elected his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, where does that leave us? Scandalised or disillusioned? Has the Holy Spirit taken a backseat? Never. We must remember and believe that the Holy Spirit is continuously active and certainly knows what He is doing—even when His graces are refused and His plans thwarted by ambitious sinful men. We must humbly acknowledge that none of us can see the future or the whole picture but God can, and God does! We must be assured and find consolation in knowing that the Holy Spirit does not tire, nor does Christian hope disappoint. Our job is to pray, work and trust in Divine Providence!

Although we may sometimes doubt the wisdom of our leaders and why they were chosen, we must never ever doubt God’s wisdom in allowing these men to be elected and chosen. As St John in the second reading exhorts us, let us “put our faith in God’s love towards ourselves. God is love and anyone who lives in love lives in God, and God lives in him.” (1 John 15-16)

You are Peter

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

If you are an avid follower of the Catholic blogosphere, you would certainly get the impression that the Catholic Church is deeply polarised and is spiralling completely out of control. There was a time when you would dismiss all negative commentaries as conspiracy theories and that there is no reason to panic. But today, you would find it hard to allay their fears and anxiety. As many of you may know, we are heading into another critical moment with speculations and anxiety building up about the outcome of the greatly touted Synod on Synodality, with rumours that women ordination, married priesthood, same sex marriages are on their way in. The entire Synodal process, though praised by marginalised voices as allowing them to air their views, seems to have rendered our bishops impotent - with one commentator claiming that the bishops have been reduced to “note-takers, not teachers; recording secretaries, not guarantors of orthodoxy; messenger boys, not apostolic leaders.”

In the middle of this storm is the figure of Pope Francis. Borrowing the cliched line in the Spider-Man movie, with great power comes great responsibility. Shouldn’t he be assuming the bulk of responsibility for this seeming mess? Many today would like to see him take a more proactive role to clean up the mess they see in the Church.

For those who fall on either side of the divide, whether you are an avid Pope Francis fan or against his policies or those who sit at the sidelines watching the ensuing mayhem and internal conflict unfold, it is good to remember that the office of the Pope, who is the visible guarantor of unity within the Church, has always been a controversial and divisive one, especially during major crises in the Church’s long history. During tumultuous periods of the Church’s history, the great schism between the East and the West, during the time of the anti-popes, and in the aftermath of the Protestant Reformation, the Pope has been at the very centre of controversy and division. Some see papal authority as an overreached while others view him as the anti-Christ. Has St Peter’s successor finally fallen on the wrong side of God’s plan of salvation?

It is good to return to what our Lord said in today’s passage. “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.” Earlier, Peter had made a definitive declaration that Jesus is the Messiah of Jewish expectation and the Son of the Living God. In return, Jesus issues His own declaration that Peter is to be the foundation of a new and messianic temple known as the Church.

The dialogue begins with our Lord asking for a public poll: “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Isn’t that often the way we define ourselves or rate personalities? Modern politicians often believe that the polls hold the truth. But are any of these polls conclusive? Just like real life, the opinion polls about the Lord are divided. There is no consensus as to the identity of Jesus, because His identity is the subject of revelation and not public opinion: “it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you but my Father in heaven.” It is good to remember this when we wish to make an assessment about the papacy.

Our Lord then puts His own disciples on the spot and calls them to give a direct answer rather than relying on third party polls. This is a risky thing for both our Lord and His disciples. The disciples may not wish to end up offending our Lord by giving the wrong answer, and they could always hide behind the opinion of others. But St Peter makes this firm declaration of faith: “You are the Christ … the Son of the living God.” Peter did not only risk being humiliated by our Lord for giving the wrong answer but far more grievously, he risked being accused of blasphemy for calling Jesus “the Son of God.” But the response of Peter stands out amid the cacophony of conflicting opinions.

Just as Peter declares Jesus to be the “Messiah” and the “son of the Living God,” Jesus now returns the favour and declares Simon to be Peter, in Greek “Petros” or “Petra.” The title announces Peter’s unique role in God’s plan: “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven…” The Jewish expectation of the messiah was that he, like the original son of David (Solomon), would rebuild the Temple of the Lord. Rabbinical Judaism also believed that the foundation stone of the Temple capped off the shaft leading down to the netherworld. So, Peter is now given a comparable role in the living temple built by the Messiah, the Church, as the capstone or “rock” which seals off the forces of evil. Our Lord also entrusts Peter with the keys of the Kingdom. In the first reading, the possessor of the keys was the chief steward of the king; he was the senior official who held the most powerful government position in Israel under the king.

So, Peter and his successors were meant to be impregnable bulwark against the forces of evil and the gatekeeper who will ensure who gets into or is excluded, from the Kingdom. So, does our current crisis warrant that we question the words and promises of our Lord in today’s passage? Should the words of our Lord be read in a contingent way? Our answer must be a definite no and this answer is deeply rooted in our faith in Jesus Christ. Papal flaws are an opportunity to understand what the papacy really means, not to abandon it (or the Church).

What most Catholics fail to recognise is that throughout its 2000 years history, the Catholic Church has always been threatened with the risk of capsizing and many popes in the past and in present times have been subject to scrutiny and criticisms, some unfounded while others have some basis in reality. And yet, with all the odds stacked against these two institutions, both have somehow miraculously remained afloat! Saint Ambrose said: “The Church is like the moon; it may wane, but never be destroyed; it may be darkened, but it can never disappear.” When the Church is in greatest need, Christ comes to its help by miracles, or by raising up saintly men to strengthen and purify it. Yes, the Lord does not, and will not abandon His Church because the Lord always keeps His promises.

This is the meaning of the doctrine of “indefectibility”, a term which does not speak of the Church’s lack of defects but confesses that, despite all its many weaknesses and failures, Christ is faithful to His promise that the gates of hell shall not prevail against it. The Church's indefectibility, therefore, means that she now is and will always remain the institution of salvation, founded by Christ.

So please, my fellow Catholics, the proper response when reading headlines about the corruption or destruction of the Church due to the mismanagement by her leaders is not panic or rage or despair. Rather, we should never cease or slack in praying for our Holy Father, the successor of St Peter, and for the unity of the episcopate, the successors of the Apostles. Let us continue to hold firm to the promise of our Lord: “You are Peter and on this rock I will build my Church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold out against it.”

Leave me Lord! I am a sinful man

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

“Leave me Lord! I am a sinful man.” Part of Peter’s response, the part where he declares himself to be the sinner, would seem anachronistic to modern man, although they would both share a similar repulsion. In the case of Peter, the repulsion arose from self-loathing, fully aware of his own depravity. But modern man’s loathing of the sacred arises from his self-sufficiency. In a world where the individual believes himself to be close to divine, immortal, invincible, God and the realm of the sacred will both appear intrusive and be regarded as threats to man’s autonomy and dominance.

What is the fundamental position which separates the two? Modern man acts from a position of hubris, whereas Peter begins from a disposition of humility. The former behaves as if he is God, the latter recognises that he isn’t. In fact, there's a common theme running through all of today's readings – it is the sense of unworthiness. The unworthiness felt by Isaiah in the presence of the Lord; the unworthiness of St Paul even to be called an "apostle" and the unworthiness of St Peter - who is so acutely aware of his own weakness, that he asked the Lord to go away: "Leave me, Lord, for I am a sinful man." This unworthiness does not arise from a neurotically defective poor self-esteem but an attitude of humble honesty. And such humility and honesty predisposes Peter to encounter and experience the sense of the sacred.

The call of St Peter in Luke’s gospel provides us with a close-up view of the process of conversion. St Peter’s conversion moves through various phases - from the world of the profane to the realm of the sacred, from indifference to commitment, from aloofness to immersion, from moral ambivalence to repentance, and finally, from curiosity to genuine enquiry leading to enlightenment. But this story is only the beginning of Peter’s journey of discovery and transformation. From a man who prides himself in being able to set the course for his own life, to a disciple who will allow himself to be led by the One who transforms his life.

Notice how the story begins. Peter remains anonymous and indistinguishable from the rest of the crowd at the opening of the passage. We will only discover later that he is one of the fishermen who were washing their nets on the shore. He stands at a distance from the crowds who had gathered to listen to the Lord. Unlike those potential disciples who were swarming around the Lord, Peter remains aloof - perhaps indifferent to Jesus and His teachings; perhaps a little curious about the reason for the commotion; but he kept a safe distance from the Lord, at a time when social distancing wasn’t yet in vogue. There were enough things, more pressing things, to worry about in life, would he wish to complicate matters further by listening to an itinerant preacher.

If Peter was unwilling to take the first step to draw nearer to the Lord, the Lord would not miss this opportunity to take the initiative, to seek out Peter. This must have come as a shock to Peter but it would be too early and too blatantly rude for him to utter those immortal words: “Leave me Lord!” or “Leave me alone.” Now that they were literally in “the same boat,” Peter had no choice but to listen to our Lord teach the crowds. From being an indifferent bystander, Peter now graduates and becomes an unwilling audience. We are not told how the Lord’s words would have impacted him but we can speculate that it would have had some effect on him as shown in his willingness to heed the Lord’s instruction to put out into the deep and pay out the nets despite his better judgment and experience.

Our Lord does not foist His will upon Peter but awaits his response. The reward of Peter’s surprising obedience and docility would be the big catch of fish, which happened against all odds. He immediately recognised that this phenomenon was supernatural in nature. And the man who had little interest in the teachings of a religious teacher is overwhelmed by a sense of the sacred and makes this confession: “Leave me Lord! I am a sinful man.”

A scholar in comparative religion, Rudolf Otto, wrote a seminal work on this topic of what constitutes the holy or the sacred. He summed it up with a Latin maxim: “mysterium tremendum et fascinans.” His definition attempts to capture two distinct poles or movements. The first is Mysterium tremendum: a sense of something mysterious, overwhelming, and daunting which elicits from us a sense of diminution, humility, submission, and creatureliness. This is what Peter experienced as he felt repelled by his own sense of unworthiness. But there is also another aspect of the sacred – one which attracts, instead of repels. Mysterium fascinans: a sense of something fascinating, desirable, good, caring, and comforting which invites us into its fullness, fulfils us, and in so doing, produces a unique kind of spiritual bliss. For this reason, Peter was also drawn to the person of Jesus, willing to give up everything, including the security of his profession and even family, to follow the Lord on the path of discipleship.

Peter’s story is our story too. In order to be true disciples of Christ, we too must make that journey - from the world of the profane to the realm of the sacred, from indifference to commitment, from aloofness to immersion, from moral ambivalence to repentance, and finally, from curiosity to genuine enquiry leading to enlightenment. The more we grow in our understanding of God’s revelation in Christ, the more we become aware of our own sinfulness and shortcomings. And hence, the more we realise our dependence upon His forgiving grace.

Today, when the Lord looks into our hearts, He sees things we can't even begin to imagine, things which we would rather not want to see. He sees our weakness, He sees our unworthiness, He knows we will let him down - time and time again. But He's not interested in any of that, because He sees something more. He sees the possibilities. And though we can only see our own limitations and faults and be repelled by them, our Lord invites us to shift our gaze and look upon His beautiful countenance, where we can only see mercy, forgiveness, and love. Our sins may repel us from Him but His love draws us to Him, and His love is far stronger than our self-disgust, if we only allow Him the space to do what He must do. But He will not do it without our consent, for St Augustine rightly states: “He who created us without our help will not save us without our consent.”

Our Lord is waiting for your consent. Would you put out into the deep, to go where you have not gone before, to trust in His words rather than in your own experiences and resources? Often, it's when we are at our lowest, when we have failed, when we are most acutely aware of our weakness, that our Lord comes to us and works His miracles. And it's then we have to trust in Him, to launch out into deep water, knowing that it's not our strength or our talents that matter, but His. As we hear His words of invitation, let us tell Him: "Lord, I am not worthy, I am a sinful man/ woman. But do not leave me. Instead, only say the word, and I shall be healed."

The face of Greatness

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The behaviour of the Lord’s disciples, is both pitiful and amusing. Once again, He attempts to prepare them for what lies ahead by spelling it out clearly: “The Son of Man will be delivered into the hands of men; they will put him to death; and three days after he has been put to death he will rise again.” This is the second time our Lord speaks to them of His passion and yet, they remain confounded but were too ashamed to seek clarification. Perhaps, they did not want a repeat of what happened to Peter when our Lord publicly and harshly rebuked him. Or perhaps they were terrified that their worst fears might be confirmed - that our Lord will die as He had predicted.

There is deep irony in the disciples’ misplaced attention. Our Lord had barely finished describing His humiliating and excruciating death, and they are already conspiring to grab some glory of their own. We can only imagine what they were thinking as our Lord repeated His disturbing prediction. “We healed people in your name. We hung with you when others rejected you. We handed out the bread and fish to the 5,000. Don’t we deserve a little more than everyone else?” It’s ironic, foolish, and entitled thinking but it’s also outrageous and tragic.

But perhaps there is a little more understanding this time round. The fact that they were in the midst of discussing who is the greatest, may suggest that they were preparing for a succession plan - who will take over the mantle of leadership after our Lord’s departure? And in their simple but not so unreasonable reasoning, they believed that the most important criterion is this - the one who possesses all the necessary qualities to step into those massive shoes of our Lord - in other words, the one who is the greatest among them.

As they argued about the proper criteria which greatness is to be measured, they failed to see that our Lord had already shown them the example of greatness demonstrated by His own willingness to accept the cross - and they had totally missed this because their definition of greatness would have excluded failure, defeat, and humiliation. Suffering wasn’t on their checklist. They found this confusing and even offensive. Christ had just emphasised the reality of His death, and that His followers must follow Him, but these images of powerlessness and sacrifice have had little impact on the disciples’ values. They are grasping for power and status in the kingdom of heaven, whilst avoiding the cross.

Instead of hearing our Lord talk about His death and redefining greatness in terms of sacrifice — in terms of coming in last, for the sake of love — they are still fighting to be first. But our Lord had to remind them, “If anyone wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and servant of all”. This flies against the common understanding of greatness which entails priority or superiority over others. Great men are expected to have more influence, prestige and power over ordinary folks.

Instead, our Lord turns human thinking on its head: the only way for a Christian to be great is to put oneself last in priority. And this is not just a pious thought but must be expressed in concrete action - one must become a servant of all. In both the ancient and modern world, meekness and even humility are not seen as natural ingredients for success but rather, signs of weakness. The powerful expect to be served and showered with honour and only the weak end up shamefully having to serve others. But according to our Lord, true greatness will often engender weakness, surrender, defeat, and even death.

How would true Greatness look like? We have seen it as St John attests: “We are declaring to you what we have seen and heard, so that you too may share our life. Our life is shared with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ” (1 John 1:3). Jesus Christ is the face of greatness! When true Greatness came into our world, He was born in a stable and laid in a feeding trough for animals. He walked from town to town without a home, without a place to stay. He made some headlines with His message and miracles, but He made many more enemies. When the Son of God came, calling lowly fishermen to be His disciples, He kneeled and washed their filthy, undeserving feet. The King of kings — the greatest of all time — humbled Himself to the point of death, even the most shameful, painful kind of death. True Greatness lost His life in love for us. And true Greatness was revealed and glorified, not defeated at that grave.

Greatness, He says, belongs only to those who humble themselves like a child. The word for “child” in Aramaic and Greek, can also mean servant. So, the discussion on disciple servant-hood naturally transitions into disciple child-likeness. Our Lord is not claiming that children are naturally humble. What our Lord is emphasising is the objective reality of childhood. Adults are not expected to listen to children; it is children who are expected to listen and obey the adults. While adults teach and command, the child’s duty is to listen and obey. Children rely almost entirely on adults to survive, their lot is that of dependence, not independence. Likewise, Christians must cast off dreams of power or status, and like a child, learn to listen and obey and admit their ultimate dependence on God for all things.

But our Lord is not only using the child as a model for discipleship but also to explain the object of our service. We do not only show hospitality and serve the powerful and the rich, those who can reward us with favours or who can spare us their disfavours. Our Lord tells us: “Anyone who welcomes one of these little children in my name, welcomes me; and anyone who welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.” In other words, we have responsibilities toward those who seem the most helpless or inconsequential, those who are unable to repay us. In welcoming them, we are also welcoming the Lord and the One who sent Him. By according the respect and dignity to the powerless, the disciples are offering great honour to God.

Such principles are entirely at odds with the world’s way of doing things. So many around us are motivated by a desire to get ahead of the next guy. The VIPs get priority and enjoy privileges over the common folk. The underlings are meant to serve their superiors and not the other way round. And yet, our Lord teaches us otherwise: “If anyone wants to be first, he must make himself last of all and servant of all.” If you aspire to be great, give yourself to the small, mundane, easily over-looked needs around you, especially of the powerless and the voiceless. Always remember that authority is about service, not about gaining power. Expect no special privileges or benefits for being a Christian; instead, remember that your duty is to serve.

We need shepherds

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

This week I would like to revisit the theme of the priesthood. I know, it’s not Good Shepherd Sunday, but the readings are strung together by the common theme of shepherds – good and bad ones. In this regard, our Holy Father frequently warns against the dangers of clericalism. For those not familiar with the term – it is meant to be a pejorative label rather than a compliment. Because of the ambivalence of his context, we are not really sure who he is talking about. There will be some, after listening to the Holy Father’s scathing remarks about priests and seminarians who suffer from clericalism will feel vindicated that they were right in their assessment about Fr So-and-So or Bro-So-and-So. I know of many priests, present company included, who wonder, “Is the Holy Father talking about me?”

So, what is the sin of clericalism? Clericalism can be defined as an unnecessary or overly exaggerated importance attributed to the clergy, in such a way that the laity relate to them as subjects to be ruled, rather than a people to be lovingly pastored. From this definition, both laity and clergy could be equally guilty of clericalism. For the laity who suffers from clericalism, mission and discipleship are regarded as the exclusive domain of the professional religious class – priests, nuns and brothers. For the clergy, on the other hand, clericalism takes the form of ambition for status and rank, and an authoritarian abuse of power.

But in this age, when anti-establishment sentiments mark every level of society, where the Church and her position on moral issues are often regarded as backward and intolerant, would it be fair to accuse any priest of being guilty of clericalism purely on the basis of his ordination, the fact that he is a priest, and his fidelity to the Magisterium of the Church? Would clericalism be solved by a democratisation of the Church or the abandonment of her laws and teachings?

The truth of the matter is that the Church is always in need of shepherds. Our Lord confirms this at the end of today’s gospel. Yes, there are good shepherds and bad ones. In the first reading, the Prophet Jeremiah is asked to condemn the bad apples – those who are all about self-preservation, who allow the flock to be destroyed or scattered. But the Lord also makes a consoling promise through Jeremiah, that He will not allow bad shepherds to destroy His flock. In spite of the scandals that we see plaguing the Church, many of which stem from bad shepherds, we must firmly believe that the Church will not be abandoned to the tyranny of the wolves. The Lord promises to shepherd the flock. We see a fulfilment of this prophecy in today’s Gospel. Our Lord saw a great crowd and had compassion on them for they were like sheep without a Shepherd. Jesus, the Good Shepherd, immediately sprang into action. Moreover, He had promised in Jeremiah’s prophecy that He would “raise up shepherds over them who will shepherd them.” The first wave of these new shepherds were the apostles.

The Lord’s first gesture of compassion was inviting these apostles to be with Him, to teach them how to be good sheep, to “come away” with Him and to “rest” in Him. These shepherds need to know the Lord, to love Him, before they can radiate His love contagiously to others who hunger and thirst for the Lord. Without prayer, without a relationship with Christ, mission and ministry could easily descend into activism and clericalism – when the minister forgets, that he has been sent by another and that he serves at the pleasure of another instead of his own.

The second gesture of our Lord’s compassion was shown to the crowds, in teaching them. In Matthew’s version of this incident, our Lord responds to the people’s need by healing the sick. But for Mark, our Lord exercises His saving power first and foremost, by teaching. Indeed, His teaching is healing, since it is the antidote to the poison of evil. At the same time, His teaching is feeding, since by proclaiming the Good News of the Kingdom, the Lord is satisfying their spiritual hunger. Notice that the story of the multiplication of the loaves follows immediately after this (Mark 7:35-44). Even before the Lord multiplies the loaves, the people are already feasting on a banquet of wisdom (Prov 9:1-5; Sir 15:3; 24:18-22). Our Lord is reminding us that to impart truth to someone is a great act of charity. In fact, to “instruct the ignorant,” is a spiritual work of mercy. This is why shepherds are meant to be teachers. When priestly ministry is translated into activism, when shepherds abdicate their responsibility to teach, we see the emergence of a new kind of clericalism which is more subtle but no less dangerous. 

Today, there is a clericalism that does not accentuate but blurs the line between clergy and laity. This is where priests begin to assume duties that are proper to the laity and where laity are clericalised to assume duties and ministries proper to the clergy. In other words, there is a reversal of roles - shepherds behaving like sheep and sheep behaving like shepherds. By encouraging this, are we telling the laity, your baptismal dignity is not good enough unless you start behaving and doing things like a ministerial priest?  Or are we saying to the priests, you are not inclusive or humble enough unless you behave like the average Joe?

Another subtle form of clericalism is flagrant disobedience to the Church’s Magisterium and disciplines in the name of being more pastoral. Fr Dominic often quips: when priest cites “pastoral reasons”, it is most likely “pastor’s reasons.” Instead, of submitting to the legitimate authority of the Magisterium, to the disciplines of the Church, such form of clericalism begins to impose its own brand of justice, ideologies, laws, and rubrics on the faithful. They are merely substituting the authority of the Church, for their own personal preferences.

And finally, there is a form of clericalism that has infected the celebration of the liturgy. According to Pope Benedict, when the priest “becomes the real point of reference for the whole liturgy. Everything depends on him… his creativity sustains the whole thing… Less and less is God in the picture.” The priest is now pivotal; his personal preferences and creativity (or lack of it) give form to the whole liturgy. This is the essence of clericalism - the priest becomes the focal point and centrepiece of the whole act of worship, instead of Christ.

I recall how difficult it was during the first few months after my ordination, to be addressed as “father.” I was embarrassed because the honorific seemed too privileged and showy. I was mistaken, of course. Years later, I would come to recognise the importance of that address – what it means to be a father. The title reminds me of the weighty responsibility of being a spiritual parent. It is a form of spiritual anonymity – a reminder that I no longer live for myself, I do so for others, I do so as an icon, a sacrament of the Heavenly Father, and of His Son, the Good Shepherd. Though clearly a sinner, I stand in the place of God Himself. It is indeed a privilege but more than anything, it is a great challenge and responsibility.

Today, let us continue to pray for the Shepherds of the Church. What the Church needs today are not shepherds who behave like wolves or even pretend to be lambs, but shepherds who can unite the community and break down barriers of hostility. Let us ask the Good Shepherd to “raise up shepherds to look after (the members of His Church) and pasture them, no fear, no terror for them any more; not one shall be lost.” 

We are meant to soar

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

A popular metaphor for describing the transition from adolescence to adulthood is that of the eagle pushing her young, forcibly and abruptly, out of the nest. The falling eaglet either has a terror-induced epiphany, “Hey, I’m an eagle, I can fly!”, or hits the ground because it believes it’s a chicken. In certain respects, this is an apt metaphor for the process of discipleship. After a period of nurturing, comes the phase of challenging and breaking new ground. For those who are willing to accept the challenge, they can soar like eagles. For those who continue to have doubts about their calling or capabilities, they will forever remain grounded like chickens.

The initial phase of training the Twelve is complete, and they are ready to participate actively in the mission of Christ - to become fishers of men. The first task of the apostles was “to be with Him” (Mark 3:14), the second, is to be “sent out” (this is what the Greek word “apostello” literally means) and thirdly, to carry out the same works our Lord Himself had been doing. By this time, the apostles would have trembled at the tall order given to them: to do the same mighty deeds as the Lord. They would have been happy just basking in His fame and glory, allowing our Lord to do “the heavy lifting,” while they just did the simple work of managing the crowds. The fact that the text tells us that the Lord “began to send them out” suggests that He did not send all Twelve at once, but took time with each pair, ensuring that they were fully prepared and had the confidence to leave the nest and take flight into mission. But it is obvious that remaining in the security of the nest is not an option.

They were not to go alone but in pairs, as little units of Christian community, since their mission was to gather God’s people into a community centred on our Lord. Our Lord too chose to share His mission and ministry with the Twelve. The Church’s experience over the ages has confirmed the wisdom of this approach. We see evidence of such missionary partnership and collaboration in the Acts of the Apostles and the epistles of St Paul. Our Lord understood that a lone missionary is at risk of discouragement, danger and temptation; but a pair of missionaries can pray together, encourage and support each other, correct each other’s mistakes and discern how to deal with problems together. Moreover, under the Law of Moses the testimony of two witnesses is needed to sustain a criminal charge. Likewise, the testimony of two or more witnesses would give greater credence to the gospel.

Our Lord’s instructions regarding their traveling gear may strike us as rather austere, even by Marie Kondo’s minimalist standards. The apostles are to take nothing with them other than the clothing on their backs, sandals on their feet and a walking stick. The lack of a haversack meant that they could not even accept provisions from others for the journey - no take-aways! Our Lord’s intention is not so much to encourage asceticism as such (they are after all to expect and accept hospitality), but to emphasise that loyalty to the Kingdom of God leaves no room for a prior attachment to material security. The Apostles had to learn not to rely on their own resources but on God’s all-sufficient Providence. Because they were occupying themselves with God’s work, God would occupy Himself with their daily needs.

The disciples’ lack of material possessions also lent credibility to their message, since it demonstrated that they were preaching the gospel out of conviction rather than the desire for gain. Through their simple lifestyle, they would testify to the Truth which is proclaimed by St Paul in the second reading: “Blessed be God the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with all the spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ.” God’s blessing was more than sufficient.

Though the disciples are instructed to refuse any material benefit or gain from their work, they are not asked to refuse hospitality shown to them by those who are receptive to their message. Hospitality shown to the disciples is synonymous with acceptance of the Gospel and the stakes involved in accepting or refusing the Gospel are high. Our Lord equates the response given to His apostles with a response to Himself. To welcome them, is to welcome Him. And to refuse to listen, is to forfeit His invitation to eternal life. This, therefore, explains the instruction of shaking off the dust from their feet. This action was not just a matter of hygiene. It was a symbolic act of repudiation, meant as a warning to those who reject the message. For the Jews, the soil of Israel was holy, therefore, upon re-entering the Holy Land after a journey, they would shake the pagan dust off their feet as a sign of separating themselves from Gentile ways. Here in this context, this action pointed to the fact that our Lord was establishing the new Israel, and those who rejected His message, would also be excluded from the Kingdom.

How about us? As the Lord chose and sent out His apostles in those days, He continues to call us and send us out as His messengers, in these days. What is clear is that we cannot volunteer for this job. In fact, all of you have been chosen from the beginning, before you were born. As St Paul reminds us, we have to be chosen, “chosen for (the Lord’s) greater glory.” Since you have been chosen and you did not apply for the job, there are no specific credentials. As the prophet Amos reminds us in the first reading, you do not need to belong to a particular elite group of trained professionals. The One who chooses you for mission, will empower you for mission. You are not meant to spend the rest of your lives in the comfort and security of a risk-free nest. You were never meant to stay put and stay grounded. You have been chosen because you were meant to be sent – you were meant to soar. You are born eagles meant to rule the skies, not chickens bound to the earth.