We need Disciples, not Volunteers

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

As a priest I must admit, I have my good days and bad days. Good days when I feel no regrets at being a priest, when the ministry is rewarding and fruits are evident. But then, just like all of you, I have my bad days. When my decisions and best intentions are met with criticism, hostility and other forms of negative reaction. I am tempted to ask myself: is this all worth it? Did I sign up for this abuse? Or in exasperation I may even decry that I don’t get paid enough for this - in fact, I get paid peanuts for the job! That’s true, but that is the difference between a job and ministry, between a volunteer and a disciple. I constantly need to remind myself before I remind others - we in the Church are called to share in the ministry or the apostolate of the Church. Though it entails work, sometimes thankless tiring work, it is not a job but a vocation. We are called to be disciples of the Lord and not just part-time volunteers.

I guess the culture of volunteerism has taken a firm foothold in Church ministry and mission. The frequent cry you often hear in most churches is this, ‘We need more volunteers!’ Volunteering has become the primary way in which Christians are invited to participate in the work and mission of the Church. Over the years, I find that sustaining morale among church volunteers has become a real challenge, sometimes it seems even impossible. We see our volunteers suffering from disillusionment and a constant need for tender-loving-care. The usual complaints we hear is that many feel unappreciated, ill-equipped for the job, a lack of support from others, and have become tired of the numerous criticisms heaped against them.

But perhaps the greatest problem lies in the area of quality control. This is particularly true in the case of the Catholic Church. Well, you know what they say, ‘when you are only willing to pay peanuts, expect nothing less than monkeys!’ (What does that tell you about us priests?) The most troubling issue when dealing with volunteers is that of commitment. There is no doubt that volunteer work is often a thankless and demanding endeavour, requiring great generosity, time and effort. We’ve eventually come to accept that if we demand too much of these volunteers, they would break and quit. We tip toe around their mistakes and find it hard to hold them accountable. Too often we settle for less rather than for more. In order to keep and please our volunteers, we end up lowering standards, compromising values and ultimately crippling the radical demands of discipleship in the name of survival.

It’s important and liberating to remember that volunteerism is not discipleship. While volunteerism has great value, even in the Church, it is not the central model for Christian life and service. We don’t need to recruit church volunteers—our Lord’s command to us was to go and make disciples. When it comes right down to it, there is a huge difference between volunteering from time to time, being a fair-weather follower, and belonging totally to Jesus Christ. The individualism and consumerism that shapes how we participate in volunteering are incompatible with the selfless, all-demanding devotion that Christ calls for in participating in His mission. One of the benefits of being a volunteer is that there is always the option to take a break or even to quit. Volunteers set the agenda- when, how much, where, and what it is they will volunteer for. Discipleship, on the other hand, is not periodic volunteer work on one’s own terms or at one’s convenience. As it is clear in the strong statements we find in today’s gospel, discipleship is total, unconditional, limitless commitment to Christ, requiring the greatest sacrifice, even enduring suffering and death.

Structurally, today’s gospel selection is comprised of a catena of sayings on discipleship, followed by two parables. The sayings demonstrate a literary device in Semitic literature, the hyperbole; a figure of speech in which exaggeration is used for emphasis or effect, as in ‘I could sleep for a year’ or ‘This book weighs a ton.’ The hyperboles or exaggerations help us to appreciate and imagine the gravity of what is being expressed. Thus, the forcefulness of the first saying in today’s gospel to turn one’s back on, or literally to ‘hate’ father, mother, etc, is shocking. Naturally, this is not an actual call to hate your family – hate is incongruent with the Christian life. To hate here means absolute detachment in the strongest possible terms. ‘Hating’ parents simply meant loving Jesus first and foremost, above family and even above self. From that love would flow the willingness to follow the Lord by taking up the cross.

Therefore, the gospel sets out the difference between mere volunteerism and hard-edged discipleship. It boils down to the answer you give to these set of questions – What are you prepared to lose? What are you prepared to give up? What is the cost you are willing to pay? Disciples are willing to pay the price of giving up everything for the sake of the kingdom. Discipleship is costly because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly because it cost God the life of His Son: “you were bought at a price,” and what has cost God much cannot be cheap for us.

In the two short parables you just heard, our Lord communicates the necessity of entering into the process of discipleship with a clear head and the intention of persevering, holding fast till the end. The man who wants to build a tower must count the cost to make sure he has enough to finish the job. The king who is going to war must first count his troops and resources to make sure he can win the battle. In both parables the message is clear: Those who begin a major endeavour need to be prepared to see it through to the finish. Throughout our lives we will be tempted to quit when suffering threatens us, when we face criticism, when the cost seems too heavy, when we receive little reward or encouragement. The importance of counting the cost of discipleship is apparent when we see the point of our endeavour is to finish the race, not just merely to start it. Some say the hardest part is getting started. If this is true though, why do we hear stories of people who give up on their diet, stop writing a novel or quit a difficult task at work. Maybe it’s not the start but the finish that’s so difficult. The goal should always be to finish, not start. And in order to finish, we must be prepared to pay the cost and make sacrifices.

Today, what the Church needs is not more volunteers. We have enough of that and we could do with less of that! What the Church needs, what Christ wants, what salvation demands is this –men and women who have counted the cost and who are committed to Jesus regardless of the cost, and who will not stop in the middle of the stream and go back. What the Church needs are disciples! Discipleship is not for the faint of heart. Discipleship is not for the lukewarm. Discipleship is not for the fence-straddlers. Discipleship is for the committed, for the consecrated and dedicated. Discipleship is for those willing to put their hand to the plough and not look back. Discipleship is not for a day, or for a week, or a year. Discipleship is for the rest of our lives. Discipleship is for those who are willing to follow Him regardless of what they have to let go of and leave behind. These are the clear job descriptions that disciples must know and be prepared for: No reserves – sacrifice everything, no retreats – press on, no regrets – finish the race.

Fire and Baptism

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Most people who volunteer to serve in church are often moved by a sincere passion to do good, to make a difference and to contribute something to the building of the community. They would expect approval, appreciation, praise, and support for the time and energy that they dedicate or sacrifice for the Church. But unfortunately, that is an ideal very far from reality. They will soon have to deal with the adverse criticism, envy, and jealousy. Little do they realise that everything goes south pretty soon. The ease and speed with which opposition, skepticism, mockery, or hostility manage to douse the initial enthusiasm, dampen the ideals and render harmless the noblest teaching is surprising.

This is what Jeremiah, the doomsday prophet of the waning kingdom of Judah and the holy city of Jerusalem, had to face when he brought God’s dire warnings to His people. His message was not meant to be an insult but it was taken as such. His words were targeted at moving the insolent people to repentance but they had the opposite effect - their hearts grew more hardened. In trying to save the city and the kingdom, they viewed it as a threat of violence, perhaps even viewing Jeremiah as a spy planted by their enemies to discourage them. So, instead of welcoming this final warning with open eyes, they manufactured their own destruction by throwing the Lord’s prophet into a well and leaving him to die. No wonder there was no prophet left to warn Judah and the inhabitants of Jerusalem. The price one had to pay for telling the truth was just too costly and served as a deterrent to the rest.

So, what would we prefer? A sugar-coated lie or the stinging painful truth? Even though the sweetness of the former may be preferred to the bitterness of the latter, we must acknowledge that only the truth can save us, only the truth can set us free. Lies can only provide us with false security, and perhaps that is more dangerous than in seeing the truth and acknowledging the risk of what is to come.

Our Lord would not lie to those who wish to follow Him. He doesn’t promise them a bed of roses, a peaceful conflict-free existence but one which would be marked by violence and conflict. Not that Christians would be wielders of the sword except the sword of truth, but that many of them would suffer death and injury at the hands of others who will hold the sword of violence and hostility towards them and the message they bring. If this is the fate of the Master, what will be that of the disciples, the torchbearers of His fire? They too will provoke—ensures the Lord —dissensions, divisions, and hostility and have to reckon with painful lacerations within their own families

Our Lord uses two images to convey this truth - fire and baptism. Violence and destruction can be clearly discerned from the image of fire. But how about the benign image of baptism? A stark contrast is intended here. What do we need for baptism? Water, the opposite of fire. Water is lifesaving. It provides life and nourishment and it can douse the flames of fire. But scriptural reference to water is anything but benign. From the watery chaos before God’s work of creation, to the great flood of Noah’s time that carried out God’s judgment in destroying a wicked generation and a fallen world, water is meant to be a destructive force. But after the flood, the rainbow appears in the sky, a symbol of peace restored between heaven and earth. God swears: "Never again will all life be cut off by the waters of a flood, and never again will there be a flood to destroy the earth" (Gen 9:11). From this promise, a conviction is born and spreads in Israel that, to cleanse the world of iniquity, God would no longer use water but fire: "For by fire will the Lord execute judgment … against all mortals" (Is 66:16).

What is this fire all about? It is natural to think of the final judgment and eternal punishment that awaits the wicked. St John the Baptist speaks of the coming Messiah who will baptise us with “the Holy Spirit and fire ... . The chaff he will burn in everlasting fire" (Mt 3:11-12). The two brothers, James and John, wanted to call down fire from heaven against the Samaritans (Lk 9:54), but our Lord refused to do so. The fire of God is not intended to destroy or torture those who made mistakes. It is the instrument with which He wants to destroy evil and purify us from sin.

But the fire announced by the prophets and lit by the Lord also saves, cleanses, and heals: it is the fire of His Word; it is His message of salvation; it is His Spirit, that Spirit who, on the day of Pentecost, descended like tongues of fire on the disciples (Acts 2:3-11) and has begun to spread around the world like a beneficial and renewing blaze. Now we can make sense of the exclamation of the Lord: “I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!” (v. 49). It is the expression of His burning desire to see the weeds of the world soon destroyed. Malachi announced: "The day already comes, flaming as a furnace. On that day all the proud and evildoers will be burned like straw in the fire" (Mal 3:19). Jesus looks forward to the realisation of this prophecy.

Finally, we come to the most troubling statement of our Lord in this entire passage, which comes in the form of a rhetorical question which our Lord Himself provides the answer: "Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division." A baffling statement because in the books of the prophets, it is written that the Messiah would be "the prince of peace"; during His reign, "peace will have no end" (Is 9:5-6); and St Paul writes in his letter to the Ephesians: "He is our peace" (Eph 2:14). Will the proclamation of the Gospel bring into the world, among peoples, in the families, harmony or discord?

It is true, the prophets promised peace for the messianic times but also announced conflicts and separations. When the Lord speaks of misunderstandings between generations (young and old) and among those living in the same house, He does nothing but quotes a passage from the prophet Micah (Mic 7:6). This should not come as a surprise because it has been prophesied. Conflict would be inevitable. There will be those who wished to preserve the status quo, hold onto sin, unjust structures, inhuman situations, every manner of vice, who would not wish to have these challenged or taken from them. Whoever feels threatened by the ‘fire’ will not remain passive. He will oppose the fire by all means. Truth and falsehood, virtue and vice cannot be bedfellows. This is the cause of division, conflict, persecution and violence.

Unity may not always be good. Unity must be sought from the Word of God, from the truth. Peace founded on lies and injustice cannot be favoured. It must at times provoke healthy divisions with much love and without offending anyone. One must not confuse hatred, violence, offensive, and arrogant words—which are incompatible with the Christian choice—with the honest challenge, disagreements that arise from following Christ. Don’t be disheartened when you meet with criticisms and challenges even from those you consider as family or who are members of your community. These are needed, even if painful, especially when we choose to live lives in conformity to Christ in a world that does not know Him and which has rejected Him.

We are prophets of a future not our own

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

There is irony in the mission which our Lord entrusted to His disciples. On the one hand, He does not soften the blow by assuring them that the mission will be easy. In fact, He tells them from the outset that they will be sent into hostile territory where they will inevitably face opposition, sometimes subtle and sometimes explicit: “I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.” The contrast couldn’t be more stark.

Sheep are prey animals, what more when you are a young lamb. Sheep are defenceless. They can’t fight, so they can only flee or huddle together when threatened. Their best chance of survival is to stay close to the larger flock and under the care of a shepherd who serves as their personal bodyguard. Leaving the flock would only mean certain death. And yet, it is our Lord who commands them to leave the safety of His pastoral care and venture out in the wide world on their own. The imagery invokes this frightening prospect – they will be easy prey for predators.

And this is what our Lord promises will precisely happen to us. We are not sent out into a Christian friendly world and we should not live under the illusion that we would be warmly welcomed. It will be a world hostile to our values, indignant to our presence and in clear opposition to what we stand for. Using the image of a wolf or perhaps even a wolf pack in contrast to us hapless lambs is meant to highlight the risks of our adventure.

But instead of equipping ourselves with necessary weapons which would ensure our safety, like a big stick or being armed to the hilt like Rambo, we should go forth unencumbered by things which would provide us with additional security. Our presence in the world should be one of innocence, wishing no offence on anyone and yet treated by others as offensive just by existing. Furthermore, our message should be a simple one: “Peace to this house!” No warning of retaliation to any potential threat like: “If you touch me, you will be obliterated!”

“Peace be to this house!” The Hebrew term sālom', or shalom (or the longer greeting “Shalom eleichem”), is typically translated as "peace" and was used in ancient greetings and farewells as of today, much as the Arabic “Assalamualaikum”. Shalom can mean the opposite of war, but it also refers to completeness, soundness, and welfare; it includes a sense of calm security in circumstances and relationships. In an Israelite context, wishing someone shalom means to say, "May God be with you." For ultimately, such peace could only be attained when one’s will was in total harmony with the will of God, when our thinking is aligned with His.

Our Lord doesn’t stop here. He seems to micromanage the entire adventure of these disciples. They were to take nothing with them–no money, no change of clothes, no itinerary. There is to be an urgency to their mission - no extra time to exchange pleasantries with people on the road. And when they enter a town, they were to accept hospitality from the first person who offered it. They shouldn’t be picky with regard to their accommodation or look around for better housing. But then our Lord adds this practical advice. When they encounter hostility, our Lord instructed them to just leave and shake off the dust from their feet while doing so. When people reject us and our message, He gives us permission to depart with no regrets. This assignment is rather amazing from a modern perspective. Do you know any person who would set out on a trip with no luggage, no money (or credit cards), no schedule, no clear strategy, and no host organisation or family to greet them at their destination? That’s a crazy way to travel, right? Sorry, but in this case, it was the Lord’s way to do missions.

But what is more surprising is the brevity and the simplicity of the message which they were to proclaim: “The kingdom of God is very near to you.” What or who precisely is this Kingdom? In terms of a succinct explanation, no one does it better than Pope Benedict XVI of happy memory who wrote: “the Kingdom is not a thing, it is not a geographical dominion like worldly kingdoms. It is a person; it is He… By the way in which He speaks of the Kingdom of God, Jesus leads men to realise the overwhelming fact that in Him God Himself is present among them, that He is God’s presence.” (Pope Benedict, Jesus of Nazareth, Part 1)

When, the disciples returned to give a report of their successes, our Lord’s answer that He saw Satan fall is an important corrective to their skewed understanding. Satan fell not because of the disciples’ efforts. It was not something which had just happened. The fall of Satan before time was witnessed by our Lord who existed before time. In fact, it is the Lord who caused the fall of Satan and his minions. It is the Lord who has established His own kingdom, whereas we His disciples, are merely invited to share in His victory and the benefits thereof. If Christ had not won the victory, our efforts would be futile. Ultimately, there is no reason to boast of what we’ve done. Rather, should we be given an opportunity to boast, we should boast of what the Lord has done for us. This is precisely what St Paul tells us to do in the second reading: “the only thing I can boast about is the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.”

Our mission is best summarised in the beautiful prayer written by Fr Ken Untener and attributed to martyred Archbishop of San Salvador, St Oscar Romero:

“It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view. The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision. We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work. Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the Kingdom always lies beyond us. No statement says all that could be said. No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession brings perfection. No pastoral visit brings wholeness. No program accomplishes the Church's mission. No set of goals and objectives includes everything”.

“This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We lay foundations that will need further development. We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities. We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realising that. This enables us to do something, and to do it very well. It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker. We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.”

The Drama of our Salvation

Good Friday

Why are many folks, who do not understand a single word of Korean, glued to every episode of a Korean drama and would even skip meals, family time and church, so as not to miss the next intriguing episode? The short and simple answer is the drama - the drama that sucks the viewer into the very scene, the emotions of the characters, the perplexity, twist and turn of the plot playing out on the screen.

Today’s passion reading is like that. We are sucked into the drama of the narrative as we even assume the role and the voices of the blood thirsty crowd in a kind of liturgical flash mob. Perhaps, with greater intensity because it is based on “true events” and the protagonist is not some actor playing a role but the Son of God Himself, in the flesh. Like every well-written drama, within the Passion account, we find every kind of human emotion expressed. There is jealousy, betrayal, anger, fear, hypocrisy, falsification of truth, perjury, failure or denial of justice, abandonment, torture, death – and within this, a Love of an impossible kind, a love that binds and unites.

But unlike the actors who are merely acting on the silver screen for our entertainment, all the characters of the Passion story are real. Every word, every action, every accusation, every spit, every slap, every nail, every scourge, every drop of blood or opened wound was real - no one was play acting and none of these were mere props. Our Lord was not acting. He truly suffered the violence inflicted on Him by His enemies, the betrayal directed against Him by His own disciples, and the death which was imposed on Him by the Roman authorities at the behest of the Jewish religious leadership. If it was all just acting, we would just have sighed with relief and praised the actors for a starling performance. But because it was all real, we have reason to be thankful for our sins have really been forgiven, the guilt we have incurred has really been lifted and Death which pursues every man and woman has really been defeated.

The passion narrative of Good Friday is full of movement and action - sitting, fleeing, sleeping, standing. But it is the standing which takes the cake. Many of you may have felt the pressure on your legs building up as you stood throughout the passion gospel reading. In my younger days as a priest, I used to issue a preliminary instruction that doesn’t appear in the rubrics to ask everyone who couldn’t stand that long, to remain seated. I used to think it was plain mindless superstition that no one took that instruction seriously and kept standing, both old and young. It was my hubris disguised as compassion that saw them in this light. Today, a bit wiser and humbled by a tad bit more experience, I have come to realise that it is not stubborn foolishness but loving devotion that kept people standing as they heard and participated in the drama of the passion narrative. Unlike the disciples who fled in fear, you have decided to stand with Jesus, and to stand for Him, as did a few women and St John, the Beloved Disciple.

We hear in the text, and only here in the Gospel of St John, “Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary of Magdala … and the disciple he loved standing near her.” Not standing at a distance like in St Mark’s account, but here beside the cross, up close and personal. So close that they were within hearing range of the last words of Christ and that John could later write that he was an eyewitness of the events and did not come to this knowledge through hearsay. They were so close that they were within range of the insults, ridicule and rage hurled at our Lord and perhaps subjecting themselves too to the risk of being arrested and similarly sentenced. It took courage. But more importantly, it took love. Perfect love casts out all fear!

I take this position of standing, as the highlight and climax of our participation in the drama of Good Friday. It is no wonder that the primary devotion for Lent is the Way of the Cross, where we pause (or at least done by the priest and servers) and stand before each Station of the Cross. The word “station” comes from the Latin “statio.” And the word statio derives from the Latin verb sto, “to stand” and signified how early Christians gathered and “stood with” the local clergy, bishop, patriarch or the pope himself in prayer. Statio also was a Roman military term meaning “military post.” Like soldiers we stand. Wasn’t it Moses who instructed the Israelites with these words when they were pursued by the Egyptian army: “Stand firm, and you will see what the Lord will do to save you today …The Lord will do the fighting for you: you have only to keep still’? Statio, therefore, also means a vigilant commitment to conversion and to prayer.

So, on this day as we commemorate the Passion and Death of our Lord, as we reenact the whole drama of salvation, let us imitate Mary, the Beloved Disciple and the other women as they stood by the cross. Though the story of our Lord’s passion is filled with betrayal, jealousy and false accusations, patterns we recognise in our own lives, behaviours which destroy and rip apart relationships, the last act of our Lord on the cross is to bring reconciliation and union. Despite the barbs that had been hurled at Him, wounds which would have hardened the hearts of the strongest men to become resentful and loveless, He pours out His last act of love on these two individuals representing His Church and brought them together in an inseparable bond of fraternity and maternity. “Woman, this is your son.” “This is your mother.”

Today we DON’T celebrate death, we celebrate the life we receive through the cross. We celebrate that Jesus waits high on His cross to take away our death, whether it be physical, moral, or mental. The Church has endured much drama. Each of us who are members of the Body of Christ have endured much drama - betrayal, envy, false accusations and loss. And yet, the story does not end in failure, defeat and resentment. If we choose to stand with our Lord to the very end because we have not decided to flee out of fear or self-preservation, or walked away out of boredom, or decided to leave early because we think the story is over, we will see the amazing ending of the story. The story ends with reconciliation, not disintegration. But even that is not the real ending.

If you do not return tomorrow and the day after, you would have missed the most important post-credits that really define the whole story and unravel the mystery of what you’ve witnessed today. While you may be currently struggling with some crisis or other, in your prayerfulness, in your life, turn over everything to the Lord. Your pain, your hurts, your loss, your addiction, your crisis - turn all that “drama,” turn everything over to the Lord. In these uncertain times: Remember, Death is defeated. Only Jesus has the power. Only His love is stronger than death. Don’t take my word for it. Come back tomorrow night or on Sunday and see for yourself.

The Towel and the Cross

Maundy Thursday

Some people are so good at talking big but fall short in delivery. When push comes to shove, they will easily bend and break. This is what we witness in the gospel. Our first Pope whom the Lord Himself declares as a rock-hard foundation to His church, changes his position not because of some profound enlightenment but melts under pressure. One can’t help but laugh at the 180 degrees turn of St Peter, from refusing to accept the Lord’s offer to wash his feet, to clamouring for a full-body bath!

First, he starts with this: “You shall never wash my feet.” We may even suspect that his refusal was just fake shocked indignation at best, or false humility at worst. And as for the turnaround, doesn’t it seem to be some form of histrionic over-exaggeration on his part? “Not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well!” In both instances, St Peter had misunderstood our Lord’s intention and the significance of His action. And in both instances, his incomprehension and misstep had given our Lord an opportunity to make a teaching point.

Let us look at the first response given by our Lord to Peter when he refused to allow his feet to be washed: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.” A superficial reading of this statement may lead us to conclude that our Lord was just asking Peter and all of us to imitate His humility in serving others. This may be the message at the end of the passage, where our Lord says: “If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.” But the words of our Lord in His response to Peter’s refusal to have his feet washed, goes further than that.

What is this thing which makes us “in common” with our Lord? In other words, what does it mean to have “fellowship” with Him? It is clear that it cannot just mean menial service, but rather the sacrifice of our Lord on the cross. This statement actually highlights the relationship between the foot-washing and the cross. The foot-washing signifies our Lord’s loving action and sacrifice on the cross. If foot-washing merely cleans the feet of the guest who has come in from the dusty streets, our Lord’s sacrifice on the cross will accomplish the cleansing of our sins which we have accumulated from our sojourn in this sin-infested world. Peter must yield to our Lord’s loving action in order to share in His life, which the cross makes possible.

The foot-washing may also be a deliberate echo of the ritual of ablutions, washing of hands and feet, done by the priests of the Old Covenant, before they performed worship and offered sacrifices in the Temple. This may explain Peter’s further request to have both his feet and head washed by the Lord. Without him knowing it, he may have inadvertently referred to his own ordination as a priest of the New Covenant. It is fitting that the washing of feet occurs while the Apostles are entrusted with the Eucharist. No priesthood, no Eucharist - it’s as simple as that.

“No one who has taken a bath needs washing, he is clean all over.” Our Lord was not just making a common-sense statement that those who are clean have no need for further cleansing, but an allusion to the Sacraments which leave an indelible mark on their recipients, two in particular - baptism (confirmation) and Holy Orders. Our Lord’s words resonate with two popular Catholic axioms: “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic” and “once a priest, always a priest.” There is no need for re-baptism or re-ordination even if the person had lapsed. What is needed is confession.

This second set of words also points to the efficacy and sufficiency of what our Lord did on the cross. Christ’s bloody sacrifice on Calvary took place once and for all, and it will never be repeated, it need not be repeated because it cannot be repeated. To repeat His sacrifice would be to imply that the original offering was defective or insufficient, like the animal sacrifices of the Old Testament that could never take away sins. Jesus’ offering was perfect, efficacious, and eternal.

The Holy Mass is a participation in this one perfect offering of Christ on the cross. It is the re-presentation of the sacrifice on the cross; here “re-presentation” does not mean a mere commemoration or a fresh new sacrifice each time the Mass is celebrated, but making “present” the one sacrifice at Calvary. The Risen Christ becomes present on the altar and offers Himself to God as a living sacrifice. Like the Mass, Christ words at the Last Supper are words of sacrifice, “This is my body . . . this is my blood . . . given up for you.” So, the Mass is not repeating the murder of Jesus, but is taking part in what never ends: the offering of Christ to the Father for our sake (Heb 7:25, 9:24). After all, if Calvary didn’t get the job done, then the Mass won’t help. It is precisely because the death of Christ was sufficient that the Mass is celebrated. It does not add to or take away, from the work of Christ—it IS the work of Christ.

When the Lord tells us: “I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you,” it is not just the ritual of foot-washing that He is asking us to imitate. Our Lord is most certainly pointing to His work of salvation on the cross which He offers to us as a gift through the Sacraments. Some people continue to resist Christ because they do not consider themselves sinful enough to require Him to wash them in Baptism or the Sacrament of Penance. Others have the opposite problem: they stay away because they are too ashamed of their lives or secret sins. To both, our Lord and Master gently but firmly speaks these words as He did to Peter: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.”

Be a little Christ

Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

The lofty demands by the Lord in today’s gospel reading would often elicit this immediate response: “I’m only human.” This is not a humble admission of one’s fallibility or inability to live up to the ideals of Christian living, but often used as an excuse that such demands are only meant for angels and the saints, and beyond the reach of mere mortals like us. When we hide behind the label of being “human”, our nature is not seen as a gift but rather as a deficit. We forgot that we are made in the image and likeness of a loving God who only wants what’s best for us and to be our best, not our worst.

We find in the course of salvation history and the pages of the Bible, individuals, families and nations called, chosen and sent by God on His mission not because of their good genes, immaculate backgrounds, exceptional talents or heroic prowess. In fact, most of these figures appear to be failures and losers, or as my bishop is fond of saying, they are members of “the least, the little, the lost and the last.” The reason for such seemingly defective candidates directs the spotlight away from them and points it glaringly at the One who is the real hero and protagonist of the story - God. Scripture is not the revelation that exposes the gradual evolution of man into some sort of Ubermensch (Superman), but rather the revelation of a God who qualifies, empowers and sanctifies the unqualified weak sinner.

In the first reading, we are given a beautiful portrayal of young David before his ascension to the throne. In his loyalty to God, he spares the life of his king who had hunted him and who had threatened to kill him out of envy. As magnanimous as David may be, epitomising the virtue of compassion and offering forgiveness to his enemy as the Lord exhorts in the gospel, David proves to be a weak man and a great sinner later in life. As much as he is seen as a national hero and in fact, the gold standard of kings, David remains a weak and imperfect man. He would later be found guilty of the most egregious crimes of adultery and murder. The Messiah is prophesied to be of his lineage and it is this lineage and link to David which would serve to validate and legitimise the office of the Messiah. But the gospels would soon reveal that it is the Messiah, Jesus Himself, who would validate His ancestor.

St Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians also draws a contrast between the first Adam and the second or last Adam, who is Jesus Christ. The contrast could not be starker. Christ is the founder of the new humanity, just as Adam is the founder of fallen humanity. The obedience of Christ, the Second Adam, undoes the disobedience of the first Adam. Just before this passage Paul has explained that in the resurrection, we will all be changed, and transformed into the heavenly sphere, in the image of the Risen Christ. What was weak will be strong with the strength of God, what was corruptible will be incorruptible with the incorruptibility of God, what was contemptible will be glorious with the glory of God. So, a Christian’s goal is not just to aspire to be the best and most perfect man (“Adam” means “man”) but rather our goal should be to imitate and be another Christ. That is why we are called “Christians.” “Christian” means “a little Christ.”

The gospel provides us with one of the most important aspects of Christ which we must imitate - His mercy and compassion. The problem is that one of the victims of our banal culture is compassion. Compassion is a precarious word, often used interchangeably with pity and sympathy. The word “pity” means a feeling of sadness or fear at the unavoidable lot of another, either deserved or undeserved. But the message we hear in today's gospel is entirely different. Being a bleeding heart, having pity and sympathy for others just doesn’t cut it. It must go much deeper: Our Lord says, "Be compassionate as your Father is compassionate."

So that compassion may not descend into shallow banality, we look to Jesus who provides us with a radically new benchmark. In fact, every example that He cites in today’s passage is something which the Lord Himself had done, especially during His Passion. He forgave His enemies who had delivered Him to His executors right at the moment of His death on the cross. He was mocked, slapped, humiliated and tortured but did not retaliate. He was stripped of His clothes and then made to walk a mile and beyond to the place of His execution. Our Lord demonstrates not only through His teaching, His miracles, His public ministry, the shape and content of compassion, but most certainly through His passion and death.

This is what compassion entails. From the Latin root, the word literally means to “suffer with” and this is what our Lord, our true Hero did for us. That means sharing our goals, our fears, our intentions, our pains and our suffering. One can't even begin to speak of compassion unless one is prepared to pay the price for it, an often expensive price that may even entail sacrificing our personal happiness and well-being, and finally our entire life. So, compassion is never of the saccharine kind. It bears within itself the precious cargo of patience, humility, and growth in the conforming of our will to God's will, to the will of Jesus Christ, our friend. To become more like Him is to become more, not less, human. Only in this way, as the whole of our being takes on the qualities of truth and righteousness, is love and compassion true. Its inner demand always includes suffering. At a deep level, the essence of love, the essence of genuine compassion, means self-abandonment, self-giving, it bears within itself the sign of the cross.

How do we grow in sacrificial love and compassion? We do this by uniting our own sufferings with His, dying to our selfish will, and rising to new life in Christ through humility and obedience to His will. So by declaring that “we are only human” is not a resignation to our weak fallen nature, an excuse to abandon what is difficult, but should be testimony that we wish to be “modelled after the heavenly man,” Jesus, whom St Paul so proudly declared. In embracing our humanity, we must also enter into solidarity with fellow humans. We are all united by our humanity and because of that we are also united by our fallen nature and need for salvation. The good news is that we are also united by grace, because the One who has come to save us chose to unite with us so deeply that "He became sin who knew no sin” (2 Cor 5:21).

Each of us can resolve to imitate Christ in our own lives, by reaching out in love and compassion to assist and comfort others who are suffering. At times this can be relatively easy, such as simply spending time with a friend who is suffering with a problem and may need someone to listen. At other times the witnessing of suffering may require much greater effort, such as when a loved one is dying from a painful illness. It would mean embracing the pain, the suffering, the frustration and the anger of the friend. And even in the face of the greatest offence which we had suffered at the hands of this person, we should also acknowledge - “he is only human” - and at least remember to treat others as how we wish to be treated in return. If we desire mercy, show mercy!

Wisdom pursues eternal life

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sin should never be tolerated

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The opposite of Envy is Love

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There can be no gospel without the cross

Twenty Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

God is the Author, man isn't

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Being a priest, I must admit that it’s not hard to know what I must do. If I want to know what I must do, I am simply guided by sacred scripture and sacred tradition, the teachings and disciplines of the Church found in canon law, the liturgical rubrics and pastoral directories governing church discipline, structures and practices. The hard part is doing it anyway despite it being unpopular. It’s funny that whenever I do what is required of me, I’m always accused of being “rigid”! Yes, the Church’s laws, rules and rubrics provide clear unambiguous guidance and direction, but they also make room for discernment and exception-making whenever necessary. The hard part is always trying to reinvent the wheel based on personal preferences and feelings, mine as well as others. This is when the point of reference is no longer Christ or the Church, but me. If I should “follow my heart” or that of others, without any reference to Christ or the Church, I would simply be guilty of what the Lord is accusing the Pharisees in today’s gospel: “You put aside the commandment of God to cling to human traditions.”

Too many these days, including many well-intentioned pastors, feel that the teachings of the Church fall into the category of “grey area” and “ambiguity,” thus the teachings of faith and morals are relative to individuals and their respective unique situations. They have problems with doctrinal teachings on contraception, purgatory, and indulgences (just to name a few), all of which are covered and explained clearly in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. And if we should decide to defend these teachings and the laws which flow from them, we are immediately labelled as “rigid” and “seeing everything in black and white,” refusing to acknowledge that people change over the years and so the Church must learn to adapt accordingly. The final argument and last insult would be to insist that Church laws are mere “human regulations” which justifies departing from them. And since they are supposedly “man-made rules,” you can and should dispense with them as how Christ dispensed with the man-made rules and traditions of the scribes and Pharisees in today’s gospel passage. Interesting argument but seriously flawed.

Yes, it is correct to state that many of these rules are man-made, Christ made them and Christ was fully human. It was Christ Himself who instituted the Eucharist: “Do this in memory of Me”, He said at the Last Supper. “Go therefore and baptise”, He said, and it was He who included the Trinitarian baptismal formula in the rite. It was He who taught if someone should divorce his or her spouse and marry another, it would be adultery. Our Lord was the master of creating traditions! But let us not forget this little, often ignored, seldom stressed point – Christ was also fully divine – He was fully God. So, no, though there are man-made rules in the Church just like any human organisation and society, and these rules can technically be changed and have changed over the centuries, there are fundamentally certain rules set in stone, on an unbreakable and indissoluble “stone”, which is to say that they are “immutable,” they remain binding in every age and place and under any circumstances, precisely because God is the author, and man isn’t.

Alright, given the fact that divine laws can’t be changed except by God, how about all the disciplines, canon law, rules and liturgical rubrics of the Church? Aren’t these man-made? Well, just because they are “man-made” doesn’t necessarily empty them of value. Traffic laws, statutory laws, municipal by-laws, school regulations, association rules would equally fall under the same category of being “man-made.” Can you imagine a society or a world that totally departs from any law or regulation and everyone is allowed to make decisions, behave, and act upon their own whims and fancies? If you’ve ever watched one of those apocalyptic movies of a dystopian world in the not-too-distant future, you will have your answer. We will soon descend into a society of anarchy, lawlessness, violence, where justice is merely an illusion and “might is right.” The reason for this is because none of us are as sinless as the Son of God or His immaculately conceived Mother. Laws are not meant to curtail and restrict our freedom. They are meant to ensure that our rights as well as the rights of others are protected so that true freedom may be enjoyed. The Law of Christ as expounded by the Church frees us - it frees from our selfish, self-referential, sin-encrusted egos.

A more careful examination of Christ’s words in today’s passage indicate that He was not condemning human tradition, but those who place human traditions, laws, or demands before true worship of God and His will expressed in the commandments. The problem wasn’t “human traditions” but specifically “human traditions” that obscure the priority of worship and God. Man was made to worship God; it's in our very nature to do so. Every other human activity should either flow from this or should rank second to this. This is what liturgical rubrics hope to achieve. Detailed instructions for both the priest and the congregation are intended to ensure that God is ultimately worshipped and glorified in the liturgy, and not man who is to be entertained. In other words, all these “man-made” rules of the Church which, to some of us, doesn’t seem to be what Christ taught, actually flow from the heart of Christ's teaching. Christ gave us the Church to teach and to guide us; she does so, in part, by teaching us to know God, to love Him and serve Him and through all these, be united with Him in Paradise forever. But when we substitute our own will for this most basic aspect of our humanity, we don't simply fail to do what we ought; we take a step backward and obscure the image of God.

It is often very convenient to denounce Catholic tradition as “man-made” or “human tradition” just because we don’t like it. The hypocrisy of such an accusation is often lost on those who supplant the Church’s tradition, rules and rubrics, with their own interpretation and version. Clericalism, real clericalism and not just the dressed-up version of it (those who wear black cassocks or lacy albs), is the result of choosing to depart from those rules, disciplines and teachings. When we ignore or reject the rules of the Church, we are merely replacing them with our own rules, our so-called “human traditions.” In fact, we are putting “aside the commandment of God to cling to human traditions.” It is not those who keep the rules but those who flagrantly break the rules that are the modern-day Pharisees.

The Catechism of the Catholic Church tells us that Sacred Tradition, rather than a set of “man-made rules” or “human traditions” is “the living memorial of God’s Word.” Pope Benedict XVI explains that Sacred Tradition “is not the transmission of things or words, an assortment of lifeless objects; (but) it is the living stream that links us to the origins, the living stream in which those origins are ever present.” Therefore, we should be putting aside our own arrogant personal preferences and opinions, rather than God’s commandments, and come to acknowledge that it is not stupidity but humility to listen to the voice of the Church because as St Ambrose reminds us, “the Church shines not with her own light, but with the light of Christ. Her light is drawn from the Sun of Justice, so that she can exclaim: ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me’ (Gal 2:20)”.

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!