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.

Blessed are the Unfortunate

Solemnity of All Saints

The gospel which is read every year on the occasion of this feast seeks to underline the paradox of being a saint. One could paraphrase the Beatitudes in this way, “Blessed or Happy are those who are unfortunate.” One who mourns, for example, would never imagine himself as being happy. But our Lord declares this to him, “Happy are those who are not happy.”

But what strange kind of good fortune is it that is suggested by the words “blessed” or “happy”? The word has two temporal dimensions: it embraces both the present and the future, and each in a different way. The present aspect consists of the fact that those who seem to be in an unfortunate situation are told that they enjoy a special closeness to God and His Kingdom. God has favourites. He favours those mentioned in the Beatitudes. It is precisely in the sphere of suffering that God with His Kingdom is particularly present to them. When someone suffers and complains, God’s heart is moved to act and draws near to the person to offer deliverance.

But the present dimension of each of the Beatitudes also includes a future: God’s ultimate victory that is still hidden will one day manifest. Hence what each beatitude is saying is this: “Do not be afraid in your distress; God is close to you here and now, and He will be your great comfort and consolation in the time to come.” Because of this future dimension, the Beatitudes provide us with the core of Christian hope. The paradox of the Beatitudes are captured so beautifully and succinctly in the words of St Paul, “We are treated as impostors and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Cor 6:8-10). This paradox has now become the model of Christian life and existence, the roadmap to sainthood.

Pope Francis reminds us, “The Beatitudes are like a Christian’s identity card. So, if anyone asks: “What must one do to be a good Christian?”, the answer is clear. We have to do, each in our own way, what Jesus told us in the Sermon on the Mount. In the Beatitudes, we find a portrait of the Master, which we are called to reflect in our daily lives”

In order to grasp the true profundity of the Beatitudes, and thereby the core of Christian hope, it is important to remember that they are essentially Christological. The real subject, of the beatitudes and in fact the entire Sermon on the Mount, is Jesus. It is only on this basis that we can discover the entire meaning of Christian faith life. Pope Benedict puts it this way, “The Beatitudes are the transposition of the Cross and Resurrection into discipleship". But they apply to the disciple because they were first paradigmatically lived by Christ himself … (they) present a “sort of veiled interior biography of Jesus.”

One needs to remember that in order to study the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, it is not enough that we study the text of the gospel. The Sermon on the Mount is not meant to be some exaggerated, abstract and unreal moral lecture that has no correlation to daily life. The best commentary of the sermon and the beatitudes is the life of Christ, and by extension the lives of the Saints. Christ stands in the middle of the text and unites it with the lives of the saints who sought to imitate Him, in life and in death. The saints saw themselves in the text of the Beatitudes because they saw Christ in the middle of it. Christ is the one who is poor in spirit. He is the one who mourns, who is meek, who hungers and thirsts for righteousness, who is merciful, who is pure in heart, who is a peacemaker and who is persecuted for righteousness’ sake. Each of the Beatitudes is flesh and blood in Him. Can there ever be a better example?

For us too, the Beatitudes are a summon to follow Jesus Christ in discipleship. He alone is “perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect.” On our own, we can never hope to be “perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.” The saints understood this truth. They recognised the path to sainthood is simply this – to die to oneself so that more of Christ would come alive in them. The saints provide us with a kaleidoscope to view Christ. That is why when the saints are honoured, it is Christ who is honoured above all. In loving the saints, Christ is not loved any less. On the contrary, Christ is rightly loved and glorified and His commandments are observed in the veneration of the saints.

The journey from this life to the next can be long, with many twists and turns, ups and downs, and it is imperative to stay on the right road. Don’t despair when life throws you lemons, just make lemonade! How can we be certain that we will not get lost on the way? Our Lord provides us with the Beatitudes as a roadmap and the Church provides us with the saints as guides. Happy are you because you have Christ and the saints as models of how to make it on this Way! What more can we ask for?

The Paradox of Happiness

Solemnity of All Saints 2020

When her name first emerged over the internet, everyone thought it was a sick joke, a satire meant to poke fun at Catholic sensibilities. This already obscure saint had almost entirely been forgotten only to have her fame restored during a time when the world had to contend with a virus that shared the same name – St Corona. That’s irony for you.

Today’s feast is all-embracing and all-encompassing. It’s a feast that celebrates the memory of great saints like Augustine, Francis and Teresa, and also the obscure and forgotten saints like Corona. It is hardly ironic but certainly logical to think that the saints are often remembered and invoked during times of crises, especially now.

The gospel which is read every year on the occasion of this feast seeks to underline the paradox of being a saint. One could paraphrase the Beatitudes in this way, “Blessed or Happy are those who are unfortunate.” One who mourns, for example, would never imagine himself as being happy. But our Lord declares this to him, “Happy are those who are not happy.”

But what strange kind of good fortune is it that is suggested by the words “blessed” or “happy”? The word has two temporal dimensions: it embraces both the present and the future, and each in a different way. The present aspect consists of the fact that those who seem to be in an unfortunate situation are told that they enjoy a special closeness to God and His Kingdom. God has favourites. He favours those mentioned in the Beatitudes. It is precisely in the sphere of suffering that God with His Kingdom is particularly present to them. When someone suffers and complains, God’s heart is moved to act and draw near to the person to offer deliverance.

But the present dimension of each of the Beatitudes also includes a future: God’s ultimate victory that is still hidden will one day manifest. Hence what each beatitude is saying is this: “Do not be afraid in your distress; God is close to you here and now, and He will be your great comfort and consolation in the time to come.” Because of this future dimension, the beatitudes provide us with the core of Christian hope. The paradox of the beatitudes are captured so beautifully and succinctly in the words of St Paul, “We are treated as impostors and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Cor 6:8-10). This paradox has now become the model of Christian life and existence, the roadmap to sainthood.

Pope Francis reminds us, “The Beatitudes are like a Christian’s identity card. So, if anyone asks: “What must one do to be a good Christian?”, the answer is clear. We have to do, each in our own way, what Jesus told us in the Sermon on the Mount. In the Beatitudes, we find a portrait of the Master, which we are called to reflect in our daily lives”

In order to grasp the true profundity of the Beatitudes, and thereby the core of Christian hope, it is important to remember that they are essentially Christological. The real subject, of the beatitudes and in fact the entire Sermon on the Mount, is Jesus. It is only on this basis that we can discover the entire meaning of Christian faith life. Pope Benedict puts it this way, “The Beatitudes are the transposition of the Cross and Resurrection into discipleship. But they apply to the disciple because they were first paradigmatically lived by Christ himself … (they) present a “sort of veiled interior biography of Jesus.”

One needs to remember that in order to study the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, it is not enough that we study the text of the gospel. The Sermon on the Mount is not meant to be some exaggerated, abstract and unreal moral lecture that has no correlation to daily life. The best commentary of the sermon and the beatitudes is the life of Christ and by extension the lives of the Saints. Christ stands in the middle of the text and unites it with the lives of the saints who sought to imitate Him, in life and in death. The saints saw themselves in the text of the Beatitudes because they saw Christ in the middle of it. Christ is the one who is poor in spirit. He is the one who mourns, who is meek, who hungers and thirsts for righteousness, who is merciful, who is pure in heart, who is a peacemaker and who is persecuted for righteousness’ sake. Each of the Beatitudes is flesh and blood in Him. Can there ever be a better example?

For us too, the Beatitudes are a summon to follow Jesus Christ in discipleship. He alone is “perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect.” On our own, we can never hope to be “perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.” The saints understood this truth. They recognised the path to sainthood is simply this – to die to oneself so that more of Christ would come alive in them. The saints provide us with a kaleidoscope to view Christ. That is why when the saints are honoured, it is Christ who is honoured above all. In loving the saints, Christ is not loved any less. On the contrary, Christ is rightly loved and glorified and His commandments are observed in the veneration of the saints.

The journey from this life to the next can be long, with many twists and turns, ups and downs, and it is imperative to stay on the right road.  How can we be certain that we will not get lost? Our Lord provides us with the Beatitudes as a roadmap and the Church provides us with the saints as guides. What more can we ask for?

Back to our little forgotten saint. Over the centuries, St. Corona was often prayed to by people seeking her help in times of trouble, be it heavy storms or livestock diseases. In these difficult times, may St Corona and all the saints of heaven, continue to give us courage and hope as we seek their intercession, that though we may still suffer poverty, experience grieving, hardship, suffering, illness and persecution in this life, Christ continues to assure those who are faithful to Him: “yours is the kingdom of heaven.”

We are all branches of the same tree

Fifth Sunday of Easter Year B

The Irish poet W. B. Yeats said, “If what I say resonates with you, it is because we are both branches on the same tree.” Hopefully something said today resonates with you reminding you that we are a branch on the same tree, the tree of our Lord Jesus Christ. And more importantly, hopefully something that Christ has said resonates with you on this day and on many others, reminding you that you are a branch of His tree. In today’s gospel, our Lord employs a readily accessible image in Israel during His time. In the final of the 7 “I am” sayings of Christ we have perhaps the most visual and poetic – “I am the Vine.”

The metaphor is not entirely new. As we can see in the Old Testament, Israel was often depicted as a vineyard (cf., Isa. 5; Jer. 5:10; 12:10-11), sometimes fruitful, sometimes not. Our Lord also used this imagery in parables to describe the Kingdom of God (Matt 20:1-16; Lk 13:6-9). But His use of it in John 15 is unique and notable for its intimacy: “I am the true vine,” Our Lord provides the key to that relationship as He exhorts the disciples on the eve of His Passion, “remain in me as I remain in you.” It is not just sufficient to know Christ or to encounter Him in an intimate way. The secret to that relationship is to “remain”, to “abide.”

One of the apostles, of course, did not remain in Christ; the danger of cutting oneself off from the vine and eternal life is real. It can happen; tragically, it does happen. It is why we have recourse to Confession, which restores us to full communion with Christ and the Church. Remaining in Christ includes remaining in the Church. So anyone claiming that he is committed to Christ but have wishes to distance himself from the people of God do not know what they are talking about. To say that one only needs the former and can dispense with the latter is an outright lie. Commitment to Christ entails commitment to His Body, the Church. We need both the church and Christ. They’re mutually inclusive - you can’t have one without the other. Our faith is not just personal or individual, as many modern Christians would claim today, but rather fundamentally and essentially communal and ecclesial. Being part of Christ means being attached to the Church, the Body of Christ. When we grow in intimacy with Christ, we must necessarily grow in intimacy with others. So, when people stay away from the community of the Church, from the BEC, from any fellowship with other Catholics, and yet protest that they are disciples of Christ, are living a contradiction.

There is another point apart from intimacy, that is put forward by the image of the vine and its branches – it is anonymity. In an age that idolises individual self-expression, in a culture where everyone hopes to have their five minutes of fame whether on a talentime show or on social media, where everyone seems to be fighting for the right to be different and unique, the parable provides a stern critique. In a vine, branches are almost completely indistinguishable from one another, it  is  impossible  to  determine  where  one  branch  stops and where another  branch  starts.  They all run together as they grow out of the central vine. What the vine image suggests about community is that, there are no free standing individuals in the community.  This metaphor of the vine and the branches is stark in its anonymity, that is, the visual image of the branches lacks any and all distinctions in appearance or character of gifts. What is essential is not isolated individuality but rather anonymous connexion with the Vine – apart from it we have no identity, we cannot have life!

So when we are genuinely and humbly connected to Christ so too are we intertwined with others in Christ, such that, by our very nature we bond into a community that seems inseparable, organic, woven together in love. So much so that who has what gifts and abilities is secondary - what matters is not who has or who does what, what matters is what we do as part of the whole and what we are together. Because when a branch is cut off, of course, it ceases to be fruit-bearing. When we break away and go our own way, we ultimately cease to be fruit- bearing.

But no one can ever claim community life is easy. Just ask the religious and priests who live in communities. We will be the first to tell you how hard it is to live as a community, and how humbling it is to be in a community. One may shine outside the community, but the community is the true litmus test of discipleship. Thus, the parable speaks of the need of pruning. Our Lord speaks of His Father, the vinedresser, doing two things that require a knife. Every branch that doesn't bear fruit, the Father removes, cuts away; and every branch that does bear fruit the Father prunes, so that it may bear more fruit. Likewise, we have to be pruned, bits and pieces, certain practices, vices, or habits or ways of being or ways of speaking need to be trimmed  up and off, in order for us to be able to grow in Christ. And more often than not this can be painful, the clipping and cutting, the fraternal correcting, the forgiving and reconciling, the changing of behaviours and attitudes. Pruning is always a painful process. It is a form of loss or death. But, paradoxically, the vinedresser is never more intimately involved than when wielding the pruning-knife! As any good gardening enthusiast will tell you, “Getting roses to bloom means cutting back the canes.” Growing pains. Pruning pains. Changing pains.

There is another theme that emerges from this metaphor - being overly presumptuous about our salvation. Such presumption is a sin against hope. It is basically saying that once a person has been baptised, his entrance into heaven upon death is guaranteed. It is what some Evangelical groups would term as the “once saved, always saved” doctrine. But the truth is that we may lose the sanctifying grace we have received through the Sacrament of Baptism by committing a mortal sin. The story of Holy Week leaves us with an important reminder that we should not ignore. One of the apostles, did not remain in Christ; he shared in the first Eucharistic meal but his heart had already been set to betray Christ. Thus, being committed to Christ means continuously being committed to the life of holiness, of personal sanctification, throughout our entire lives and not just be contented with a single moment of grace or conversion. It means remaining in the Church. It is not just enough to receive grace. We are called to remain in the state of grace and if this is not so, we should immediately make use of the sacrament of penance to be reconciled to God and His Church.

The call to abide in the vine should never be taken lightly or superficially. It calls for something quite radical and life changing. It is a call to a personal and intimate knowledge of Jesus himself, not an idea, but a living person. It calls for us to be “plugged” into Jesus, grafted onto His life, allowing His very presence to pulsate through our minds and hearts. It calls for us to be immersed in the life of the community and the Church, no matter how painful and challenging this may be. It is a call to be intertwined with others to the point that the whole becomes greater than the parts. To abide in the vine means always being committed to grow in the life of prayer and sanctification and never feeling complacent with the bare minimum or whatever is mediocre. Abiding in Christ, as St Cyril of Alexandria wrote, requires the wholehearted and transforming “confession of piety.” Finally, as the second reading emphasises, mere words are not enough when it comes to demonstrating a right relationship with God. Talking means nothing if, as the old saying goes, we don’t walk the talk. Rather, we must examine our hearts and “keep his commandments and do what pleases him.”

Homily for the Sixth Day of Parish Novena 2016: "Praying for the Living and the Dead"

Preacher: Fr Simon Yong SJ

We continue with the series on the Spiritual Works of Mercy: Praying for the Living and the Dead. And I thought a better theme would read like Praying for the Dead and Killing the Living. At least that is how some priests might like it because it is not the dead who gives trouble but the living! Parishioners, I mean.

Let me focus more on praying for the dead and not so much for the living. This emphasis has nothing to do with just deserts as if those living do not deserve our prayers. In fact, praying for the living and the dead are two sides of the same spiritual coin that speaking of one, you will realise that the other is also implicated. Furthermore, tomorrow when we turn our attention to bearing wrongs patiently and forgiving offences willingly, I am sure praying for the living will enter our horizon.

Do we pray for the Dead as we should? Let explore this.

Have you watched series like Falling Skies and Walking Dead or movies like Mad Max: Fury Road and the trio of Divergent, Insurgent and Allegiant? They all share a feature in common. They are set in some form of dystopian present or future. The word “dystopia” shares the same root with the word “Utopia”. Utopia, the term first coined by St Thomas More, describes a non-existent island with the most perfect legal, social and political system.[1] Dystopia is just the opposite, meaning “bad” place.

I conduct camps for young people. Repeatedly, when I try to connect one fact with another, they cannot make the connexions. In a way, the youths reflect a dystopian mind-set. What do I mean by that?

Have you noticed how convenient it is in a dystopian series or movie to discover a stockpile of reserved petrol to power up the cars? The question is how long will that supply last without upstream support. Where are the refineries? You might query where I am going with this? I observe the same disposition at work not just in the dystopian movies but in our everyday life. Do you know where your food comes from? Is the supply chain safe? Or, talk about water security and our response is to instal a water purifier in our own house. Talk about the soon to come haze and we want Indonesia to take care of her forest fires. But, do you think that the haze will respect sovereign boundaries?

What is my point in bringing this up?

The point is, we are not actors in a dystopian movie by any long shot but we are definitely dystopian in our outlook. A dystopian mind-set is restricted and definitely myopic[2] because it is incapable of grasping a bigger picture. Furthermore, there is a decidedly distinct temporal quality to this myopia meaning that this mind-set is time-sensitive or that it has a shelf-life or an expiry date to it. Put in another way, this short-sightedness is symptomatic of a crisis of faith. Is there an instant where this crisis is manifested?

Yes. Funerals.

In general priests who are trying to address this crisis may be fighting a losing battle. What am I describing here?

In general, when a person dies, nobody says bad things about the deceased. On the contrary, eulogies at funerals regularly give glowing accounts of the deceased and at times you might be left wondering if the funeral is at the same time a canonisation. It is bad taste to dishonour the deceased and it is natural for people to speak well of the dead. But, the need to eulogise might just reflect an obsession that everything that needs to be said and done must be accomplished here which makes the death not only an absolute end but also the end of our responsibility. Give the person a good send off and be done with it…

There is a duet by Mariah or Pariah Carey as I call her, with Boys II Men. Google it. One Sweet Day. It has been heard at funerals. The assumption is “a person who dies” will be in heaven. But, you ask yourself this question… if everyone who dies is guaranteed heaven, then why the need to punish rapists? After all, they will go to heaven, as One Sweet Day and our eulogies at funerals appear to indicate. But, the act of punishment has a function. It is to rehabilitate. It is to teach the person punished that there is another penalty far worse than this earthly sentence if he does not amend his life. In short, punishment on earth is a reminder of punishment in eternity—hell.

Praying for the hell reminds us that heaven is our homeland.

Contrast these two statements a priest makes with regard to marriage preparation.

1.      I am preparing a couple for marriage.

2.      I am preparing a couple for salvation.

Statement one is temporal in nature. It is time-based. And in our rat-race society, we scurry around looking for the best way to prepare a couple for the arduous duties of marriage. Commendable. And sometimes priests take the path of least resistance. Whenever couples ask for communion in a non-sacramental marriage, instead of explaining and being firm about why communion outside of Mass is only given to the sick and infirmed, some priests will take the easy way out by acceding to the request. Easy means we want to be “welcoming” and more understanding.

Statement two however, is not myopic and it takes a longer view of life which means often times some debates miss the point. Debates like whether or not eulogies be allowed. Can we give Holy Communion at Marriage services between a Catholic and Protestant?

All these best practices to prepare the couple or to ensure that the couple is welcome, sometimes, they miss the point because underlying every mission we have is salvation and the crisis of faith is the crisis of salvation. We are concerned about living well and some of us are also concerned about dying well. But, the purpose of living and dying is not just to live well and die well. The purpose of living and dying is for heaven and when we die, we die in the hope that death is not the end of existence but a doorway to our eternal life.

If this make sense, then you realise the importance of praying for the dead. There is a reality far bigger than the people here, or even larger than the sum total of all the baptised in every corner and nook of the world. That reality is the Communion of Saints and we are connected to the Saints in heaven, the Saints-in-waiting in purgatory and the faithful here on earth—Ecclesia triumphans, Ecclesia penitens and Ecclesia militans. The Catholic teaching on purgatory reflects her understanding of the Communion of Saints. We are one body with Christ the Head. Thus, for a Body to function all its parts must work together. As the names suggest, the saints pray for us and the souls in purgatory. The souls in purgatory cannot pray for themselves, they cannot do anything to hasten their entrance into heaven. They can pray for us but they depend on the saints and our prayers for them. And because our time for good ends with death, we ought to do as much good as we can whilst still alive.

In the meantime, Purgatory is necessary both as an act of mercy on God’s part as well as expression of justice on our part. How so? On the one hand, Purgatory is God’s final act of mercy towards a sinner because nothing unholy can enter His presence. A souls destined for the eternal joys of heaven needs to be purified before he can enjoy his just reward. On the other hand, praying for ALL souls in Purgatory is an expression of justice on our part. We do not know whose soul is in heaven or whose soul is still in purgatory. Unless the person is canonised a Saint, it would be presumptuous pride to assume that a loved one is in heaven and therefore an injustice to deny him or her our prayers because we think that he or she does not need it. Now you understand why a eulogy, which extols a deceased as if he or she were already a canonised saint, may just be audacious arrogance. The prohibition of eulogy has nothing to do with an unmerciful God who holds grudges and nothing to do with thinking lowly of the deceased because as mentioned earlier, purgatory is God’s final act of mercy towards the sinner.

Finally, praying for the dead is not a November event. Judging from our Mass intention books fattening around that time, one can safely conclude that many do think that the dead are remembered only in November. But, if you listen carefully, at every Mass we pray for the dead even though they may not be mentioned by name. Death separates the deceased from the living but there is a union which cannot be broken, not even by death. That is the union of the One Church of the Victorious, of the Suffering and of those still working out their Salvation—with Christ Jesus the Lord.

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[1] Utopia just means too good to be true. That is why it is imaginary. Whereas eutopia positively describes a good place, (eu + topia). But because utopia and eutopia are homophonous, a conflation has taken place and this is because utopia (used with the meaning of eutopia) is contrasted with dystopia meaning bad place. In fact, the word dystopia reinforced the shift whereby utopia now has taken the meaning of eutopia. Utopia was St Thomas More’s satirical piece directed at a King, Henry VIII, who believed that he could create a perfect Kingdom which he accomplished by robbing the Church (Dissolution of the Monasteries) and rewarding the Aristocrats (who did not protest). The truth of this perfect Kingdom is that freedom had to be sacrificed. History repeated itself when Communism tried to create eutopia/utopia and the price paid was freedom. The same may be said today of the so-called “liberal” enterprise. The quest to liberate EVERYONE will surely end up with the exclusion of those who do not buy into the project.

[2] Do you know why conspiracy theories have high currency value? Our world-view is constricted but we intuitively know that there is a larger picture to which we have no access. Nature abhors a vacuum. When we do not have a big picture, conspiracy theories will abound.