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.

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.”

The Once-and-for-all Atoning Sacrifice

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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.”

A shepherd's work is never done

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Recently I came across this ditty which is made up of stanzas alternating between the voice of the shepherds and that of their sheep. It is interesting to see how the two perspectives are at variance. Here’s a sampling of the first two stanzas:

Shepherds:
Morning to dusk our watch we keep, tending our flock of precious sheep, near and far they love to roam, then one by one we count them home.

Sheep:
A shepherd’s work is never done while naughty sheep are having fun, high and low we love to roam, then one by one we come back home.

Although there is a tinge of realisation by the sheep (and perhaps subdued appreciation) of the thankless never-ending work of the shepherds, and the tale seems to end on a happy note when the sheep finally decide to return home, the naughty sheep persist in “having fun” and roaming “high and low” with little regard for the former’s sweat and toil. But what really surprises me about this song is the utter joy of the shepherds who seem to cherish and enjoy their work, without minding the long hours nor the delinquent wards under their care. No complaints, just pure joy which springs from the authentic love they have for their sheep.

Even as I read the lyrics of this song with amusement, there is a sense of guilt. I’m nothing like the shepherds in this song, what more the Good Shepherd, our Lord Jesus Christ, whom I am called to emulate. I want to be honest, the line which says “a shepherd’s work is never done,” most closely resonates with me but it sounds more like a complaint rather than a statement of fact: “no rest for the wicked.” Sometimes, attending to the needs of the congregation can be so tiring, especially those requiring high maintenance. And being an introvert, my social battery and energy levels dissipate at such speed whenever I am around people, which is to say most of the time. God knows that I need space and time for myself to recuperate and rejuvenate.

But today’s readings seem to throw another wrench into my plans to have a break and some down-time. From the first reading to the gospel, we see how our Lord doesn’t let up in caring and shepherding those in need. It is not that the human Jesus never tires. Just like the Energiser Bunny, even our Lord, fully human as well as divine, would suffer the fatigue that comes to all of us. But does He walk away? Does He give excuses by citing that He needs time to Himself? Does He abdicate His responsibility and push the load of His work to others? The answer is simply “no.”

You all may remember that the Fourth Sunday of Easter in each lectionary cycle is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. But today is an opportunity for all of us (and I’m including myself in this equation) to revisit the theme of the Good Shepherd and what it means to be sheep as well as shepherd in imitation of our Lord. These readings and the underlying message aren’t just aimed at us priests and lay leaders. All of us Christians are the sheep, and Jesus is the Shepherd. But you too are called to be shepherds in different ways - parents, leaders, service providers, teachers, employers, managers, just to name a few. Before we can be good shepherds who lead the way for others, we must first be sheep who know and follow the Shepherd’s voice ourselves.

From the first reading, we are assured that God, the good shepherd, will never abandon His people. In the face of human shepherds who had forsaken their flock, the prophecy of Jeremiah foretells a time when the Lord Himself will shepherd His people through His own shepherd, a king in the line of David. The promise shimmers between God as Himself the shepherd and His representative being the shepherd. We finally see the fulfilment of this prophecy in the person of Jesus Christ, the Anointed One of God who is God Himself.

Too often have we suffered abandonment in our lives at the hands of those whom we have trusted, those who have sworn to have our backs, to care for us, to protect us. And yet so many of us have known the pain of betrayal in the form of an absent parent, an absent mentor, an absent friend, or even an absent pastor. But here is One who will never abandon us no matter what the cost may be. He now calls us to follow Him and imitate Him in being vigilant at our station, to never abandon our post or abdicate our duty. We are called to be faithful shepherds just like Him, to be present, courageous and steadfast in guarding those placed under our care.

The second characteristic of the good shepherd comes from the second reading - we are called to be unifiers. In a hyper-polarised society, where we are often forced to swear allegiance to parties, factions and ideologies, and called to adjudicate between warring parties we must always stand with the Lord and for the Lord. And what does the Lord stand for? St Paul tells us that our Lord has come to bring peace and reconciliation among enemies. The two groups of Christians, sprung from Jews and gentiles, which formerly were so much at loggerheads, are united by the blood of Christ and the single Spirit to form the single New Man which is Christ’s Body, the Church. We as shepherds after the heart of Jesus must do likewise, constantly bringing people together rather than sowing division.

Finally, our Lord shows us in the gospel that shepherds like His disciples need time and space to be rejuvenated. When they return to give a report of their exploits after their first missionary expedition, our Lord recognises their human needs - they are weary, tired and hungry. Rather than subject them to more gruelling activity, He invites them with these words: “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” This is not any ordinary R & R, rest and relax, but necessary time to retreat and recollect (that’s our version of R & R), to spend time with the Lord in order to be rejuvenated, revitalised and re-created. Not only sheep need feeding. Shepherds need it too.

Though our Lord never said “no” to any cry for help or appeal for assistance as can be seen at the end of the gospel passage, He understands that Christianity is not just a non-stop flurry of activities. There can be no love of God, no true love of self, nor love of others, without that stillness and silence which makes us receptive to them all. Prayer is the fuel which powers our sense of mission. Without it, we would be running on empty, the shepherd’s work would feel like a heavy chore rather than something to be cherished and celebrated.

So, even as we struggle to imitate our Lord as a good shepherd, to be faithful to whatever and whoever has been entrusted to us, to not abdicate our responsibilities for selfish reasons or choose to flee when things get tough and rough, it is comforting to always remember that we are sheep who have a Shepherd who is always there for us, strengthening us, guiding us, protecting us and cleaning up after us when we have made a mess of things. He is that Shepherd whose “work is never done.”

The Perfect Sacrifice

Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ Year B

Many a young child’s dream and ambition of becoming a doctor had been dashed by one simple fear - they were haemophobic. Not “homophobic” but “haemophobic”, the fear of blood, wounds and injuries. So, if you happen to have this sad condition, today’s feast and its readings, if you had really listened and paid attention to every word, may make your stomach churn. What unites all three readings is the mention of blood and bodies? Today’s feast is definitely a bloody affair!

Why is blood and a corpse involved in today’s feast? It would be stating the obvious that we are speaking of the blood and body of Jesus Christ since this is the proper name of this feast. But to understand why our Lord would sacrifice both His Body and Blood, we would need to understand two concepts in the Bible, that of sacrifice and the covenant.

The idea of sacrifice arises from the first and the highest duty of man, which is to hand himself over, to surrender, to submit himself to God. This sacrifice involves two parts - first, an interior and invisible offering of ourselves to God; and second, this offering must be outwardly and sensibly signified. In other words, one cannot sacrifice by merely intending it and making a mental offering to God. This must be matched by an external sign which signifies and makes visible that internal sign. This is fundamentally the basis of our sacramental theology - outward sign of inward grace.

What the Pharisees were guilty of and which our Lord condemned was that they had confined their sacrifices to outward show but lack the interior disposition necessary to make a true offering of oneself. Virtue signalling is a modern term coined for this. Today, the tendency is reversed. Many modern Christians argue that good intentions are enough and we should disregard external rituals and practices which are considered showy and frivolous. This would explain why so many Christians have abandoned the Holy Mass and even removed the altars from their sanctuaries.

But, for the Jews, the shedding of blood and the immolation (or killing) of the animal was necessary for the atonement of one’s sins. This was not just something which man cooked up in his sadistic blood thirsty mind but was in fact commanded by God. According to Hebrews (9:22), “Without the shedding of blood there is no remission.” By the very act of offering and giving these animals over to death, men acknowledged that they themselves were deserving of death because of their sins; and in this action, they expressly admitted, that did God will to judge them as their sins deserved, He could in justice inflict death on them. These poor animals would literally be the “scape goats” that take away the sins of the world. But the sad truth, as Hebrews tells us, is that these animal sacrifices could not remove the stain of our sins, nor could they reconcile us with God. A far greater and more perfect sacrifice was necessary.

Before considering that far greater sacrifice, it is necessary to look at another purpose of such blood sacrifices. Blood and sacrifice were also needed in the sealing of covenants. Ancient peoples did not just resort to lawyers and their penmanship to enact pacts with each other. Pacts and covenants were sacred affairs and to make them lasting and their breaking almost impossible, the gods were invoked to not only stand as witnesses to these agreements between mortals but to also be a party to them.

So, from the very beginning, the patriarchs entered into covenants with God by making animal sacrifices - Noah, Abraham and Moses just to name a few. The Mosaic covenant which we heard in the first reading required that the blood of the sacrificed animals be sprinkled on the altar, the tabernacle as well as the people. Just imagine the climatic scene in Stephen King’s Firestarter, where the protagonist Carrie is drenched in pig’s blood. In fact, everything that is to be used in the ritual sacrifice had to be cleansed with blood, not water. Can you picture a more bloody scene than this and happening in the sacred Temple of all places? With the use of blood in the sealing of the covenant, God, in essence, was declaring He would give His life if His promises were broken. There could be no greater encouragement to believers, since God is eternal and can no more break an oath than He can die.

All of these things were only “copies,” or “shadows,” of the better and more perfect covenant to come. The lives of animals could never remove sin; the life of an animal is not a sufficient substitute for a human life. The blood of bulls and goats was a temporary appeasement until the final, ultimate blood covenant was made by Jesus Christ Himself – the God Man. In the second reading, the author of Hebrews tells us that “the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer are sprinkled on those who have incurred defilement and they restore the holiness of their outward lives; how much more effectively the blood of Christ, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice to God through the eternal Spirit, can purify our inner self from dead actions so that we do our service to the living God.” Furthermore, Hebrews adds this claim: “His death took place to cancel the sins that infringed the earlier covenant. The shadows became realities in Christ, who fulfilled all of the Old Testament blood covenants with His own blood.”

We often forget that the Eucharist is the sign which signifies the new covenant of Jesus, and because it is a covenant, it also makes demands of us. Whenever we partake of this sacrifice and covenantal meal, we are declaring what Moses did in the first reading, but in a far more intense and firmer way: “We will observe all the commands that the Lord has decreed.” This becomes a real challenge to your average cafeteria Catholic, and there are many who fit this label. What is a cafeteria Catholic or using a metaphor closer to home - an economy mixed rice Catholic? A cafeteria Catholic is typically defined as one who picks and chooses what Catholic teaching he wants to believe. But the truth of the matter and a bitter pill to swallow, is that Catholics are not free to choose which teachings to obey. The faithful must give “a religious submission of the intellect and will” to the teachings of Christ and His Church. First and foremost, would be the faithful celebration of the sacraments of the Church according to their proper rubrics (rules) and not just adapt and make alterations which suit the celebrant’s preferences. It is hard to justify when claiming that one values Christ but chooses to ignore or reject what His Church teaches. Eschewing cafeteria Catholicism might satisfy our appetite temporarily, but only the full banquet prepared by the Lord can fill our souls.

He lays down His Life

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year B
Good Shepherd Sunday

What do priests talk about when we meet up with each other? Well, here’s a little secret. We talk about our sheep or to be more precise, we often end up complaining about them. I guess that when the sheep get into their own discussion circles, the performance of priests make good fodder for discussion and gossip. In paintings of Jesus the Good Shepherd, He is often depicted, cuddling cute adorable lambs. But the reality is that many members of our flocks are hardly adorable or cute, and certainly not someone you would enjoy cuddling. Perhaps, we may even be tempted at times to strangle them, especially the more incorrigible and annoying ones. Occasionally, some of us confess that there were times we doubted whether we had chosen the right profession, that we should have gotten out if we had the chance to do so.

This Sunday in our liturgical calendar, is a much needed wake up call for us priests, shepherds of souls, as well as an assurance that there is a Shepherd who would not suffer the same weaknesses as us. Here is a Shepherd who is willing to “lay down His life” for His sheep, even though His sheep sets out to murder Him. His selfless generosity exposes our depraved selfishness.

Here are some qualities of the good shepherd that stands out in today’s gospel. I’m not sure if you see your priests fitting the bill. If he doesn’t, do offer up a prayer for him. If that doesn’t work, you can always petition the bishop!

The relationship between the shepherd and his sheep is not just the result of a job; it is deeper than that. If it was a mere job, then one would be constantly seeking benefits from fulfilling one’s responsibilities. And if the benefits do not commensurate with the responsibility, we would immediately see it as a burden.

The shepherd is also a leader. With much talk about the importance of accompaniment, of walking together with others as equals, we often lose sight of the necessity for good leadership. The good shepherd leads his sheep; he does not just accompany them on whatever path they feel inspired to follow. Not only does he lead them, but he leads them “to pasture,” that is to good food. He ensures that his sheep are fed well with the complete revelation of Jesus Christ through Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition rather than survive on watered down mush passed off as truth. He ensures that they are fed with sanctifying grace through faithful celebration of the sacraments, rather than only when it is convenient and expedient to do so.

But the most distinctive quality of the Good Shepherd is that He is willing and actually does lay down His life for His sheep. If the gospel was turned into a song, this would be the resounding theme and refrain: “I lay down my life for my sheep.” Which shepherd would sacrifice and risk his own life for a single sheep? He would rather sacrifice and lose a sheep to a wolf than to lose his own life or the entire herd. But here is the greatest quality of the Good Shepherd. He is one who is willing to suffer, out of love, for those entrusted to His care. He is one who chooses the life of the sheep over His own life. At the heart of this teaching is sacrifice. The Good Shepherd is sacrificial. And being sacrificial is the truest and most accurate definition of love.

It is only through our Lord’s sacrificial death on the cross for our sins and His glorious resurrection to life eternal, that we are able to enter into the presence of God the Most High. In a relativistic world, where it is argued, that one religion is just as good as another, we Christians make this audacious but true claim - Jesus alone is Saviour. Jesus alone is the gate, the entrance point, to eternal life with God. St Peter declares this truth in the first reading taken from the Acts of the Apostles: “For of all the names in the world given to men, this is the only one by which we can be saved” (Acts 4:12). This is the reason why our Lord laid down His life for us, not just for those now counted among the fold that knows Him but also those others who have been entrusted to Him, who still do not know Him.

But His sacrifice also gives us an example of what we must do as His followers called to imitate His life. Laying down our lives shows that the nature of love is a total self-gift. Laying down your life cannot be done halfway. Either your life is laid down or not. This reveals that love, for it to be love in the truest sense, is a total commitment of 100% of your life. Love if not sacrificial is counterfeit. Laying down your life clearly shows that love requires a sort of death to self. You have to be stripped down so that all that remains is Christ who shines through you and works through you, you are a mere vessel in His service. It requires that we look to the other first, putting their needs before ours. This requires true sacrifice and selflessness.

In this year’s Chrism Mass of our Archdiocese, our shepherd Archbishop Julian Leow delivered a most stirring homily. He asked this question that seems to be on everyone’s mind as we witness the decline of vocations to the priesthood and religious life: “Are we in a crisis?” He then follows his rhetoric question with an answer: “We are not, but all signs show that we are heading in that direction if we sit back and do nothing. If there is a crisis now, it is a crisis of commitment and generosity to selflessness that is seen in all states of life.”

Yes, we are suffering from a crisis that goes beyond the plunging number of vocations. It is the crisis of a lack of generosity and commitment to selflessness. Whether it be in marriage or in a religious or priestly life, the crisis is a crisis of generosity and commitment. We demand a great deal from others but make little effort to make sacrifices, if at all. In any crisis, we can either choose to be selfish or to be selfless. To flee from danger out of self-preservation or to lay down one’s life for others out of love. That is the choice we must make! Too few are willing to “lay down” their lives for others. We are afraid to give because we are afraid to lose.

But the bottom line is that giving of ourselves until it hurts turns any small or large sacrifice we give into a blessing for others and a glorious reward for us. The truth of the matter is that by giving out of love, we have so much more to gain. Too often people have remarked in my presence that we priests have made such a great sacrifice by accepting this sacred vocation. How often was I tempted to reply, not out of some false humility but rather gratitude, that I have become so much the richer as a priest than before - spiritually richer that is! And how I am edified and inspired too by the sacrifices made by married couples to each other and parents to their children. Living a sacrificial life is fulfilling on many levels and is ultimately what we are made for. So, do not hesitate to commit yourself to this depth of love. By giving yourself completely away, you find yourself and discover Eternal Life in the presence of our Divine Lord, the Good Shepherd, who “lays down his life for his sheep.”

God sends a Saviour

Fourth Sunday of Lent Year B

Laetare Sunday

Before we consider the Saviour who is God’s Son in the gospel, let’s turn to a type of saviour in the Old Testament. The first reading introduces an extremely strange “saviour” in the person of a pagan ruler - Cyrus the Great! Although a relatively minor biblical character, Cyrus is one of the most famous, and significant, historical figures to appear in scripture. In his time, he was the most powerful man on earth, leading the Persian empire in its expansion across vast swathes of the eastern world, sweeping away many of the previously dominant civilisations, including, crucially, the Babylonians. He was not a member of God’s people, as the Old Testament understood it. He had probably never heard of the God of Abraham. In fact, one of the reasons he is so well known is because he conquered not through military might alone but through more subtle politics and diplomacy.

The last verse of 2 Chronicles records something similar, where Cyrus appears to acknowledge Israel’s God, and certainly allows his people to go home. Enlightened leadership? Maybe, but whether he knew it or not, there was One even greater than he, One who was truly in charge here. There are few cases in all history which better demonstrate how even when it appears otherwise, and when God’s people are few and far between, the Lord reigns.

Cyrus – the Lord’s anointed (Messiah or Christos - the Anointed One), a saviour? It seems extraordinary, there must be better qualified people around, the faithful few in Judah, the key leaders in Babylon, but no, this world leader is chosen … no-one, nor anything in the whole of the world, is beyond God’s jurisdiction. And so, it is God, rather than King Cyrus, whose real power is demonstrated and whose rewards are granted. After God used Nebuchadnezzar to punish His people, He raised Cyrus to deliver them from their captivity in Babylon and return them to their land. It is God’s plan and purpose that is being revealed. The Chronicler is actually saying to anyone who will listen, even when there is no hope, even when God’s prophets are scoffed at and His message rejected, even when the Temple which is the visible sign of God’s covenant is laid in rubble, even when there is seemingly no way forward, no remedy, there is God. When there is no-one around to help, all the heroes have gone, the prophets of old are dead and you are all alone, there is God. Wherever you are, despite appearances, in every place at every time, through all circumstances, there is God.

This provides us with a beautiful prelude to the gospel which introduces us to the true Saviour of the World - the One who is God’s Son, not by attribution or by adoption like the kings and emperors of old, but the only begotten Son of God who is sent by God Himself because of His love for the world. This is not just a messiah, not just a saviour, but THE Messiah and THE Saviour, in which all other human saviours pale in comparison.

Our Lord uses a strange illustration from the Old Testament to introduce His point in Him being the Saviour whom God has sent. The antidote to the venom of sin and rebellion would be the very thing that threatens their wellbeing - the serpent. Such an image would have made sense when our Lord’s interlocutor, Nicodemus, had received word of our Lord’s death on the cross and would have stayed with Him for the rest of His earthly life. The cross would be the ultimate demonstration of God’s love and the very benchmark by which we would be judged.

“Yes, God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life.” In Christ, we see a love so intense, so sacrificial, so incomprehensible, it makes all human expressions seem frivolous in comparison. Here was a saviour that was different from every other saviour in human history, even those seemingly anointed by God, like Cyrus. Our Lord was not motivated by expansionist ambitions nor the heart of a benevolent and wise ruler. Our Lord’s sole motivation in saving us was love! And this is how He loved us: Through His death, Christ revealed what pure, unfathomable love looks like. But He did more than that. Through the cross, God proved the depths of His love.

St Paul tells us in the second reading, “God loved us with so much love that he was generous with his mercy: when we were dead through our sins, he brought us to life with Christ – it is through grace that you have been saved – and raised us up with him and gave us a place with him in heaven, in Christ Jesus.” Such a passionate, self-sacrificing act is hard for any mind to comprehend. God reached out, expecting nothing in return, and emptied Himself completely, for the very ones who spurned Him. You and I included. Cyrus would have offered benevolence to good and loyal subjects, but our Lord showed mercy even to those who rebelled against Him.

God sent Christ for one reason only, and here’s why: “So that everyone who believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.” We receive God’s free gift of eternal life through faith, by believing Jesus is who He says He is—the sinless Son of God who paid for the world’s sins—and did what He said He did—died in our place to grant us entrance into eternity with Him. But to receive that precious gift, we must acknowledge that we need it. That’s hard because it pricks against our pride. We often take great satisfaction in our achievements and knowing we’ve progressed solely through our own merits. But the Holy Spirit helps us realise the futility of our efforts; we cannot earn grace, but we can accept it by the power of the Holy Spirit. To step out of the darkness and into the light, out of death and into life, all we need to do is to just accept the offer which our Lord gives us.

Despite common belief, the cruel execution by crucifixion was not invented by the Romans. It was the innovation of the Persians, and Cyrus may have also used it during his reign to punish rebels. But our Lord, unlike Cyrus, did not condemn any of us to be crucified. Rather, He chose to be crucified in our stead. And through the cross and by the cross, our Lord Jesus Christ revealed a beautiful picture of love, of grace, and the freedom of complete absolution. No more guilt. No more shame. Zero condemnation. Only freedom, light, and life, and all because God so loved this world. As St Paul reminds us in the second reading: “We are God’s work of art, created in Christ Jesus to live the good life as from the beginning he had meant us to live it.” For this reason alone, we should rejoice!

The New Temple

Third Sunday of Lent Year B

For many Catholics, fund raising can sound like a dirty word. This aversion and resistance to fund raising activities is often justified by the following assumptions:

First, religion should stay clear of money matters and should be solely concerned with the spiritual welfare of its members.

Second, the Church already possesses a fortune evidenced by the size of the church and its many facilities. Somehow, the church has stashed away in some secret corner, a magical goose that can endlessly lay golden eggs.

Third, Jesus shows us a perfect example of how we Christians should abhor the commercialising of religion by His action of turning out all the merchants and traders from the Temple precinct and then accuses them of turning His Father’s house into a market.

Our gospel story is often interpreted as testimony against materialism in religious practice. Religion is to remain radically pure in regard to the corruptions of commerce. Christianity is solely about faith. Money plays no role whatsoever. So, was our Lord’s action in today’s gospel passage a call to keep things simple and cheap, that the Church should avoid any effort to raise funds for its maintenance and activities? You will be surprised with the answer.

In case you may have noticed, the Gospel of John states that Jesus cleansed the temple early in His ministry, but the other gospels place the temple-cleansing near the end of His ministry. Only in John’s gospel do we have the Jews confront our Lord with this question: “What sign can you show us to justify what you have done?” And it is this question which opens the discussion on the significance of our Lord’s action in pointing to His own death and resurrection.

The Temple was the focal point of every aspect of Jewish life and identity. From a theological and liturgical perspective, for a first-century Jew, the Temple was at least four things: (1) the dwelling-place of God on earth; (2) a microcosm of heaven and earth; (3) the sole place of sacrificial worship; (4) and where there is ritual sacrifice, you would also need the priesthood. Therefore, sacrifices offered to God could only be made at the Temple and never elsewhere. This is also the reason why there were traders selling animals in the Temple because these animals were meant for the Temple rituals, offering and sacrifices. The moneychangers also served a similar role of exchanging the profane Roman currency, which was considered idolatrous and unclean with Temple coinage, the only currency accepted in the Temple.

But the temple was also a barometer of sorts for the health of the covenantal relationship between God and the people. Many of the prophets warned that a failure to uphold the Law and live the covenant would result in the destruction of the temple. In 587 B.C., the temple was destroyed by King Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonians, marking the start of The Exile. Following the exile, the temple was rebuilt, then damaged, and rebuilt again. But even this second temple would be destroyed by the Romans in 70 AD. Was it in this context that we can understand the words of our Lord, “Destroy this sanctuary, and in three days I will raise it up”? St John gives us the answer: “But He was speaking of the sanctuary that was His body, and when Jesus rose from the dead, His disciples remembered that He had said this …”

Our Lord Jesus saw that all four aspects of the Temple were being fulfilled in Himself and in the community of His disciples. (1) His body is the dwelling place of God on earth - the meeting place between heaven and earth; (2) He is the foundation stone that would be the beginning of a new Temple and a new creation - the new heaven and earth; (3) He would offer Himself as the perfect sacrifice that will accomplish what previous animal blood sacrifices were unable to achieve - atonement for sin and communion with God; (4) and finally, Jesus is the High Priest of the new eschatological priesthood that could serve as the perfect mediator between God and man. Because of this, the old temple was destined to pass away, to be replaced by the new Temple “not made with human hands,” and the old priesthood with the new.

Was Jesus, in cleansing the temple, attacking the temple itself, and by extension, an attack on God as well? No. And did Jesus, in making His remark, say He would destroy the temple? No. But, paradoxically, the love of the Son for His Father and His Father’s house did point toward the demise of the temple. “This is a prophecy of the Cross,” wrote Joseph Ratzinger, who later became Pope Benedict XVI, “He shows that the destruction of His earthly body will be at the same time the end of the Temple.”

So, the new and everlasting Temple was established by the death and resurrection of the Son of God. Through our Lord’s death and resurrection, the place for encountering God will no longer be the temple but the risen and glorified Body of Jesus in the sacrament of the Holy Eucharist, where all mankind is united. With His Resurrection the new Temple will begin: the living body of Jesus Christ, which will now stand in the sight of God and be the place of all worship. Into this Body He incorporates men. This is what the Catechism tells us: “Christ is the true temple of God, ‘the place where his glory dwells’; by the grace of God, Christians also become temples of the Holy Spirit, living stones out of which the Church is built” (CCC 1197). Through baptism we become joined to the one Body of Christ, and that Body, the Church, is the “one temple of the Holy Spirit” (CCC, 776).

Finally, this story of the cleansing of the Temple also points to an important aspect of our spiritual lives, an element so relevant during this season of Lent - spiritual purification. Christ has come not only to “cleanse the Temple of Jerusalem,” but the temple of our own bodies, our lives. Our Lord’s purification of the Temple reminds us today of the need to purify our faith, to once again ground our lives on the God who shows us His power and infinite love on the Cross, the source of our salvation. Only by passing through the Cross will we reach the glory and joy of the Resurrection. The Lord Jesus comes into your life expecting to find a place ordered to the worship of the one true God, but what He finds is “a marketplace,” a heart that is divided by competing values and allegiances. Instead of a heart that is solely dedicated to God, Christ finds a place where things other than God have become primary. What rivals to the one true God have you allowed to invade the sacred space of your soul? Entertainment, leisure, material wealth, obsessions and addictions? How are these things enshrined in the sanctuary of your own heart leaving no room for God? During this Lent, let us reorientate our lives, consecrate our hearts solely to God and rid the temple of our own bodies of the idols to which we have foolishly given power and pride of place.

God will provide

Second Sunday of Lent Year B

The faith of the protagonist in the first reading is legendary, so much so that his faith has been used as a model for Christians in the New Testament. Abraham’s walk with God began when God found him living in a pagan land and called him to leave his home and family to go to the place God would show him. After decades of walking with God, Abraham’s small faith grew through each high and low. He learned to trust God with his dreams and with his disappointments, with his gains and with his losses, with his successes and with his flops. In each stage, God proved faithful and Abraham’s faith took roots. And when his faith was firmly rooted in the Lord, God tested Abraham’s faith by asking him to make the greatest sacrifice of all - his son Isaac.

This is where we find ourselves in the story of Abraham. In the first reading, we have the moving account of God asking Abraham to offer his only son Isaac as a sacrifice. Abraham had waited decades for this miracle child. Right from the very start of his faith journey, God had promised to bless Abraham and to make his name great and blessed through his descendants. Now, how is this going to happen if God is going to take his only male heir? Abraham had been asking that same question for years when he and his wife Sarah remained childless until their old age. Yet, God has never disappointed in that first instance by giving him a child. So, now Abraham trusted that God will not disappoint him again.

At first glance, the story of Abraham and Isaac seems disturbing. Why would a loving God ask Abraham to sacrifice his only son in a manner similar to his pagan neighbours? Was He bringing unnecessary torment to a man who had already waited so long for a child? Upon closer inspection, it’s clear that God’s request to sacrifice Isaac was not unloving or capricious. Instead, it is a beautiful picture of Abraham’s faithfulness and God’s provision. In the past, Abraham had doubted God. He had tried to have children in his own way instead of waiting on God. By asking him to sacrifice Isaac, God was testing Abraham to see if he trusted Him. And he did: Abraham’s faith in God was so great that he was willing to give Him his only son, trusting that God could bring him back from the dead.

As God describes Isaac to Abraham, we hear Him describe His only Son, Jesus. The story of Isaac is both a picture of Abraham’s willingness to sacrifice his only son and a foreshadowing of God’s willingness to sacrifice His only Son for us. This was the Son that truly died and was brought back from the dead. The story of Abraham’s sacrifice, like no other, gives us a glimpse into what it cost the heart of God to sacrifice His only Son for us. Abraham’s story of the sacrifice of Isaac parallels Jesus in many ways. Both were well loved sons; both carried wood to the place of the sacrifice; both were promised that a lamb would be sacrificed, only for Jesus there was no ram in the thicket to take His place. He is the Lamb of God that would be sacrificed, the Lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world.

As we turn to the gospel, we see another set of parallels. This time, it is the disciples of the Lord who are being prepared for their greatest test - the passion and death of our Lord. The great reason for this transfiguration was to remove the scandal of the cross from the hearts of His disciples, that they will not lose faith and hope when they witness our Lord’s death. Unlike Abraham, their faith will falter. Unlike Abraham, they will flee the scene instead of accompanying our Lord to His great sacrifice. But because of the transfiguration and the resurrection, they will return.

As far back as our liturgical sources take us, we find the Church beginning Lent with the Gospels of Jesus’ Temptation in the desert and His Transfiguration on the mountain. Hence Christians’ Lenten experience replicates the God-guided experience of the people of Israel: their forty years of journeying in the desert, which tested their fidelity, and the community-founding theophany at Sinai which endowed them with the Torah of grace.

But there is also deliberate and stark parallelism between the story of the Transfiguration and our Lord’s Passion. The same three named disciples are handpicked by our Lord to be with Him and to witness both events, and on both occasions they remained confused. Our Lord was transfigured on one mountain and crucified on another. On both occasions, there is a revelation of our Lord’s identity as the Son of God. At the Transfiguration, it is God who speaks: “This is my Son.” But in the crucifixion, we find this idea finally taking hold and being repeated at last by a person. And what’s really remarkable, it’s not one of the disciples. It’s not even a Jew. He’s a Roman soldier. The enemy! The person, we least suspect. Declaring it at the point we least suspect. This Gentile centurion shows greater faith than even the disciples, because he alone witnessed the Lord’s death unlike His disciples.

If you have ever doubted God’s wisdom or questioned your faith because of some crises, do not lose faith but continue to trust in the Lord. Abraham did and he was rewarded. Beyond the scandal of the cross is the glory of the resurrection. We are assured as Abraham was, that God always provides. Like Abraham, we should have confidence in God, trusting Him with everything and being willing to sacrifice our best to Him. St Paul reassured us with the rhetorical question: “With God on our side who can be against us?” And the answer is no one and nothing! God not sparing His own Son for our sake is the pledge of His fidelity and love for us.

Though we may not fully understand His plans, God in His providence, supplies all our needs. We should never lose faith in His promises and Providence. Abraham says, “God will provide the sacrifice.” Not only did God provide a ram as a sacrifice for Abraham, but He provided a lasting sacrifice through His Son — for Abraham, and for all of us. All our Lord asks is that we have a trusting heart and be willing to “listen to Him.”

True Victimhood

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The first reading and the gospel both present us with two polar opposites of how we view ourselves and others, which ultimately defines the way we relate. In the first reading, Job sees himself as a victim of circumstances and perhaps even God’s seemingly capricious unfairness. He has lost everything - his wealth, his family and his health - all are common denominators of one’s personal happiness and success. As he moans, groans and rants, he speaks from a place of entitlement. Did he not earn God’s favour by living a righteous life? This is not the same Job whom the Lord praises at the beginning of the story because at that point of time he lacks nothing, nor is this the Job who is enlightened by these series of tragedies and ensuing debates with his friends who emerges vindicated at the end of the story. In this passage, Job’s experience mirrors many of ours. We praise God for His blessings when life has been good to us, but the moment these favours are withdrawn, we immediately descend into petulant rantings of a spoilt entitled child.

In the gospel, we are given two positive examples - one is the mother-in-law of St Peter and the other is our Lord Jesus. But to add contrast to the story, we are also presented with the negative examples of the crowds who come to the Lord for healing and together with the disciples form a cohort of entitled persons, believing themselves to be uniquely deserving of the miracles of the Lord and would not wish to share Him with others. In contrast to this second group, note how Peter’s mother-in-law made no demands of the Lord but was most willing to serve Him the moment she recovered. There is no sense of entitlement but rather a sense of service to others springing from gratitude. Her actions merely reflect that of our Lord’s ministry, who tells us that His primary mission and duty is to preach the gospel of the Kingdom, to offer the gift of salvation to others, for this is the reason why He came.

So, this question is now placed before us as a choice: do we live for ourselves with a sense of entitlement, or do we live for others with a sense of duty and responsibility? Most of us would be conflicted. St Paul, however, resolves this tension within his own life and ministry. In the second reading, Paul writes: “I do not boast of preaching the gospel, since it is a duty which has been laid on me; I should be punished if I did not preach it! If I had chosen this work myself, I might have been paid for it, but as I have not, it is a responsibility which has been put into my hands. Do you know what my reward is? It is this: in my preaching, to be able to offer the Good News free, and not insist on the rights which the gospel gives me.” He rejects the sense of entitlement and embraces the responsibility which has been placed on him to preach the gospel and he claims that carrying out that duty is itself, his reward.

This tension exists even till today. Our culture today, is a battle ground between the values of entitlement and the values of duty or responsibility. The person with a sense of entitlement believes: everything that happens should somehow benefit them. Anything unfavourable or unfortunate that happens in life is happening “to” them. They constantly see themselves as poor victims. The person with a sense of responsibility believes: it’s their duty to deal with whatever comes up, to be accountable, and to accept all of the consequences of their own actions. The person with a sense of duty lives for others. They do not ask: “what’s in it for me?” but rather, “how can I help and be of service for others?” The model for this sense of duty is our Lord Himself.

Our Lord is often described in our liturgical text as both Priest and Victim. But what does it mean to be a Victim, in the sense of being Christlike? The victim here is a reference to the animal sacrifice or holocaust offered by the priests in the Temple to atone for the sins of men. It was meant to be a sacrifice of atonement, to take our place in receiving God’s judgment and punishment. But until the time of Jesus, no animal sacrifice was capable of accomplishing this despite the number of animals being killed to appease what seems to be a blood-thirsty God. But all this changed when God Himself offered His only begotten Son as the sacrifice. Jesus is the perfect sacrifice or Victim, because He alone is “spotless and unblemished”.

In the Eucharist, Christ victimhood is at the heart of the Sacrifice of the Mass. The Bread which is consecrated during Mass is called the Host, which is derived from the Latin “Hostia” which means Victim or Sacrifice. See the connexion? So, whenever we participate in the Holy Mass where the Host is offered and consecrated, and whenever we receive that consecrated host in Holy Communion, we too partake in the victimhood of Christ, a victimhood which atones sins and redeems us from the devil. Christ’s victimhood is a victimhood for others, rather than the sordid victimhood of a culture of entitlement which only seeks to benefit oneself.

The Victimhood of Christ is the necessary antidote to the malaise of victim mentality we see in today’s culture, a mentality that is extremely tempting and popular today. Today, claiming the status of a victim grants one status, power, and moral high ground. It conveys the moral certainty that one is automatically right. Now even the smallest offense is trumpeted all over social media. Social media has raised ranting and complaining to an art form. “Victims” feel extremely entitled and have become extremely unforgiving. Even mild or merely awkward remarks are interpreted in the harshest way possible and as aggressive attacks on the purported victim.

How different is this false victimhood from the true victimhood to which Christians are called. The image of Christ as victim runs throughout the Christian theology, hymnary, and scripture. First, Christ was a true victim in what He suffered. He did not experience some imaginary suffering or claim that mere words are violence. On the contrary, He suffered the worst and cruelest humiliation and death and yet found it within His heart to forgive His enemies.

Second, He suffered for others. He called Himself the Good Shepherd and said He would lay down His life for His sheep. And then He did it. The modern victim suffers nothing for no one except himself. The smallest slight becomes a reason for seeking revenge.

Our Lord also suffered in silence. Pilate even prodded Him, urging Him to denounce or contradict His accusers. He invited our Lord to proclaim His innocence, and our Lord would not do it. Isaiah prophesied this moment when he spoke of the Suffering Servant, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7).

A Christian is called to accept true victimhood, and with humility. We are told we must take up our crosses and suffer with our Lord. And not only with Him but like Him. As parents, spouses, children, brothers, sisters, and friends, every Christian is to be a victim - not of the entitled and demanding type but of the self-giving and sacrificial type like Christ. To be willing to suffer for others, to forgive, and to do so quietly and with dignity.