Reversing the Outcome

First Sunday of Lent Year A

One of the characteristics of being human is the ability to feel regret for the mistakes we’ve done. If we could only turn back the clock and do it all over again, which is simply wishful thinking. Most of us would have to simply live with our past mistakes and it would be almost impossible to correct them. We end up having to pay for our misdeeds for the rest of our lives.

But the good news is that what is impossible for Man, is possible for God. And so the gospel passage which tells us how our Lord faces off the devil and successfully refuses to succumb to temptation is not just a motivational story that if Jesus can do it, so can we, but a story of how the Lord has rewritten the ending of the story of the Fall of Adam and Eve, which we heard in the first reading. Our Lord Jesus didn’t have to travel back in time to do this, although He could, He simply reversed the outcome of the story of the first temptation and shows us how things could and can turn out differently.

The lectionary, by choosing to juxtapose the two events, the temptation of our first parents and the temptation of Jesus, wishes us to see the stark contrast of conditions, decisions and outcomes. The first story begins in a situation that can only be described as abundance. Adam and Eve were in a lush garden, they were not bereft of food or even choices, they had everything including the friendship and company of God, nothing was lacking, yet they doubted God’s goodness and authority. Despite all that God had given them which would have lasted any mortal being countless of lifetimes, it was just not enough. That famous song from the Great Showman, “Never Enough,” should be humankind’s theme song. Greed and jealousy do not come from a place of scarcity. They emerge from a vacuous heart which is originally made for God but now turned inwards.

On the other hand, the story of our Lord begins in the wilderness, the desert, a place of scarcity. Yet despite that scarcity, our Lord did not hunger for the allures of this world - food, money, power, popularity. The reason being is that His heart was already full, it was filled with the love of God. God was enough, He needed nothing more. Our Lord was in a desolate wilderness, physically weak, yet He trusted the Father enough to resist the lies of the devil. He refused to take an "easy way out" through sin, choosing to fulfill His mission through suffering. For that is what the three temptations He faced entailed - they were easy and convenient ways of getting the job done, “saving” the world, without having to make any sacrifices, lose any friends, or spill any blood. Likewise, Adam and Eve were tempted with an easy path to divinity. They were promised that if they ate the forbidden fruit, they “will be like gods.” They had forgotten that they were already like gods, children of God, living in a home with God.

The threefold temptation of Jesus mirrors that of Adam and Eve in the garden. They follow the threefold nature of the worldly things spelt out by St John in his epistle. In an exhortation to his flock, John warns them: “Do not love the world or what is in the world. If anyone does love the world, the love of the Father finds no place in him, because everything there is in the world - disordered bodily desires, disordered desires of the eyes, pride in possession - is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world, with all its disordered desires, is passing away. But whoever does the will of God remains for ever” (1 John 2:15-17). Doesn’t this passage wonderfully lay out the choice that is before us? We either choose the world that is passing or God who remains for ever. This is the battle we must undergo during Lent.

So, let us have a closer look at the three areas described in 1 John 2:16.

First, we have “bodily desires” or “lust of the flesh.” Eve was tempted with fruit that was "good to eat". In fact, God had pronounced that all fruits of the trees in the garden were “good to eat”, save for the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil which was forbidden. Eve acknowledges to the serpent that God had given clear instructions: “You must not eat it, nor touch it, under pain of death.” And just like how we today can’t resist food that are good to eat but not good for our bodies and health, Adam and Eve also gave in to the temptation of the flesh. On the other hand, our Lord was tempted to turn stones into bread after 40 days of fasting. He reminds us that obeying God’s Word, that is His commands, is far more important and life-giving than giving in to the urges of the flesh. This is why the Church encourages us to fast and perform penances during this holy season to strengthen our resolve, strengthen our self-discipline in order to put a rein on unbridled passions of the flesh.

Next, John tells us to beware of “disordered desires of the eyes” or “lust of the eyes.” Eve saw that the fruit was "enticing to look at". What is denied is often more desirable and pleasurable. This second lust has been compounded in the modern age by the proliferation of pornographic material on the internet, the sexualisation that you see in advertisements and movies. In the past, there were more stringent censorship and you had limited access to printed pornography. But today, this is easily available with little effort with the click of a mouse or the scroll on your phone. Our Lord Jesus, however, did not succumb to this temptation when shown all the kingdoms of the world in a moment. Lent is a good time to bring back the ancient ascetic practice of “custody of the eyes,” which entails intentionally controlling one's gaze to avoid sinful, immodest, or distracting sights, thereby protecting the soul's purity. It involves moderating digital media consumption, avoiding "near occasions of sin," and fostering interior recollection. Instead of looking at the world and all its allures, train your eyes to gaze interiorly to make constant examination of conscience and upwardly to God in prayer.

Finally, John warns us that the world offers “pride in possession,” the mother and queen of vices. The serpent promised Eve she would "be like God". Most people often think that pride is merely a narcissistic character flaw, that is undue estimation with oneself and one’s achievements. But it is so much more. At the heart of this sin, the very sin that made angels into devils and which led our first parents to fall, is a rebellion against God. Every proud man eventually turns his back on God. A god will not tolerate the authority of another god. Power cannot be shared by the proud man. On the other hand, our Lord was tempted to throw Himself from the temple to force God's hand, proving His divinity. Instead, He reminded the devil that we should not test God’s authority. God will be God and not just a pawn to be manipulated by our every whim and fancy. The truth is that we cannot be gods through our own efforts but only by God’s doing. God had to become man, and He did in Jesus, in order for men to become gods.

So, back to our first question? Could things have turned out differently if Adam had obeyed when tempted in the garden? Of course! The Church declares at the Mass of the Easter Vigil, that Adam’s mistake, this fault, was indeed a “Felix culpa,” literally a “happy fault”. The reason being that it is happy and even “necessary” is because it resulted in a greater good: the incarnation and redemption of humanity by Jesus Christ. God can bring a greater good out of evil, He can bring victory out of defeat. Jesus, the New Adam, is proof of this.

And so, we too can reverse the outcome of sin through repentance and obedience to God and His commandments. We are not indefinitely trapped in our past mistakes but can chart a new course forward by following the example of our Lord. We may be victims of the Old Adam, but we can now be victors under the New One, Jesus. Happy Lent!

The Asceticism of Love

Ash Wednesday

For many, today’s date is unmistakable and if you have a loved one, forgetting that it’s Valentine’s Day is unforgivable. But even if today doesn’t happens to be Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent, our liturgical calendar actually honours two other saints, St Cyril and St Methodius, and not the eponymous St Valentine. Valentine’s Day has been largely relegated to a secular feast of mushy romantic ideals and practices.

Chocolates, flowers and candlelight dinners are things we normally associate with the secular representation of the feast of this Catholic saint who is patron of marriages and romance. The ascetic practices we practice in Lent and which we have heard in our gospel today, hardly sounds romantic at all, if anything, they seem utterly Spartan and ascetically bleak. But love is actually at the heart of these Christian ascetical practices. Love is never about seeking our own happiness but the happiness of the other even at the cost of sacrificing our own. It is this ascetical aspect of love which is missing from so many modern conceptions of relationships resulting in selfish individuals looking for love but finding none, at least none which perfectly matches this self-absorbed notion of romance.

Asceticism? “Isn’t that like wearing hair shirts and whipping and punishing yourself? Does the Church still teach that?” Simply put, asceticism means self-sacrifice. It means denying yourself physical pleasures and conveniences even when you don’t need to. What the Church requires are spiritual athletes not couch potatoes. Christians do not practice asceticism because we see physical goods as evil. On the contrary, asceticism guards against valuing the goods of Creation so much that we disdain the Creator. Like all spiritual practices, asceticism should be motivated by love. Asceticism does not spring from some form of sick masochistic self-hatred, but rather it is the sacrifice offered out of love for our Lord Jesus who showed the extent of His love for us by dying for us.

As we begin our Lenten ascetic practices of prayer, fasting and alms giving, let us be conscious of the true reasons for our actions.

First, asceticism combats habitual sin. If you struggle to control your desire for something you tend to abuse (food, drink, sex, comfort, etc), practising self-denial is like building your spiritual muscles against it. St Paul writes, “I discipline my body and make it my slave” (1 Corinthians 9:27). The word here for “discipline” carries violent overtones, literally meaning “to beat” or “to batter.” We’re called to show our body who’s boss. The purpose of fasting, for instance, is so that one can train his appetites by habitually telling them “No,” even in regard to lawful earthly goods, like food or conjugal relations. That way, when a sinful temptation stirs up the appetites, the body has been well-trained to obey its master, the sanctified rational mind.

Second, asceticism builds the virtue of temperance. Temperance is the virtue that balances our desires for physical goods. When our desires are out of balance (a condition of Original Sin called “concupiscence”), we need to reset the balance with self-denial. Our Lord Jesus teaches us: “Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth…but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21)

Third, asceticism protects you against the excesses of the culture. Like the culture the early Christians lived in, our modern culture has deified entertainment, luxury, and physical pleasure. While Christians can give lip service to resisting these temptations, the truth is that we’re immersed in this culture and it’s difficult not to be transformed by it. Asceticism helps us to set our hearts on the greater goods and to resist laxity of heart and open our hearts to be transformed by grace.

Fourth, asceticism moves our hearts away from selfishness. We live in air-conditioned comfort, even in our cars. We get used to having entertainment literally at our fingertips. Everything in our lives is built around convenience, entertainment, and comfort. Self-sacrifice prevents our modern lifestyle from sinking too deeply into our hearts.

Fifth, asceticism can be an act of love. If fasting and making other sacrifices are going to make you more cranky and irritable, if you continue to judge your neighbour for their lack of devotion or dedication to these ascetic practices as you have, then you have missed the point. These practices should enlarge our hearts, not shrink them. To know whether we’ve been doing it right is to examine the fruits of our practices. Have we grown in our love for God and neighbour?

Sixth, asceticism should lead us to interior conversion rather than multiply our practices as a kind of performance. Let us pay heed to the warning of our Lord Jesus Christ in the gospel, that we should not practice asceticism so that “men may see you” but rather, be content that “your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.” Asceticism provides us with new lenses to see things unlike how the world sees. St Paul puts it this way: “We do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:18)

In our consumeristic and materialistic culture, this programme of spiritual exercise is both unpopular and difficult. If these practices sound intimidating, think of the physical regiment many people keep to stay fit and healthy. If one can endure such hardships for a temporal good, a healthy life, one must then appreciate the value of spiritual exercises that will gain us, with God’s grace, eternal life. These habits of self-denial, which include prayer, fasting and almsgiving can strengthen us, by God’s grace, to aim our desires at unseen realities and reap the radiant joys of heaven, even now. When done out of love, instead of burdensome obligation or as performance, these ascetic practices will do much to help us advance spiritually. This is the path of spiritual athleticism and Lent is as good a place as any, to start our training.

Watch

First Sunday of Advent Year A

Advent is here! As the world winds down to the close of another year, we Christians are already ahead in beginning a new one. As people around us get ready for the holidays, make preparations for their annual break, we Christians are renewing our vigilance and recommitting ourselves to the work of mission.

We begin our season of Advent, the start of a new liturgical year, with a reminder that the end times are real - it is not make belief designed to scare Christians into docile submission. We should not treat this news, however, with an alarmist state of panic nor with apathy. We should not ignore our Lord’s warning and be caught off guard, as were the people during the time of the Great Flood or the two contemporary examples He cited. The tragedy of their error is an important lesson for us in this day and age. The necessary response is wakefulness or watchfulness. “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming.”

Before you grab a strong cup of coffee with a double shot, you need to remember that what our Lord is referring to is a different kind of wakefulness. The wakefulness that the Lord describes is a state—a practice, a way of being—that bears little resemblance to the ways we usually try to keep ourselves (or unwittingly find ourselves) awake, methods that usually leave us less than fully functional.

Another verb could be used to describe the wakefulness which our Lord is asking from us: “watch”! This is what we hear in the First Advent Preface: “Now we watch for the day, hoping that the salvation promised us will be ours, when Christ our Lord will come again in his glory.” Advent can thus be summarised in this simple imperative: “Watch.”

Christ will come again. That Christ will come again in glory to judge the living and the dead is an article of our faith. But He will come unexpectedly and suddenly. The fact that we do not know the time of His return means that we are to live in a state of constant wakefulness or watchfulness. Therefore watching should be our permanent disposition. “Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.”

What does it mean to be ready and watchful? It means, we look beyond the present to the future coming of Christ and His kingdom. It means, the present should be understood in the light of the coming Kingdom. It means, that all aspects of the Church’s life, our personal life, should be oriented towards the coming of Christ and the coming of His Kingdom. Too often, we are too myopic in our projections and planning. We fuss over short term goals and get distressed when our targets are not met, when our projects yield results which fall below our expectations. When we have closed our vision to the coming of Christ and His Kingdom at the end of this age, it is so easy for us to become disillusioned and give up. But constantly keeping our eye on the ball – which is the Lord’s coming, will fuel our resilience and strengthen our perseverance. It’s not the end until He comes again in glory, victorious and with His enemies under His feet.

We live not only in expectation of the Kingdom, not only in anticipation of the coming of the Messiah, but our whole life at present should be oriented towards the Kingdom of Christ. The second coming is not simply a future event but an event which controls, shapes and directs our life at the present. It is an event which transforms our view of life. To be oriented towards the coming Kingdom means that we live today as if we were already in the Kingdom of God. This is what St Paul tells us in the second reading, reminding us that as people who live in the daytime and not like those who live under the cover of night, we must live virtuous lives, free from vice, because “the time has come,” and that “our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted.”

If watchfulness is a permanent attitude and disposition of every Christian as we sojourn this earthly life on our way to the heavenly Kingdom, how can we make it a “way of life”? St Hesychios sets out different levels of watchfulness:

1. We must watch our thoughts. This is a watchfulness that guards against enticing mental images and thoughts, for these are the precursors to temptations and sin.

2. We must watch the desires and movements of the heart. This kind of watchfulness “frees the heart from all thoughts, keeping the heart profoundly silent and still in prayer.”

3. We must acknowledge our neediness and vulnerability. This is a watchfulness that “continually and humbly calls upon the Lord Jesus Christ for help.”

4. We must watch and prepare for death. Death is the universal equaliser which humbles the proud, reminds us of the fragility of our projects and impermanence of our possessions. Therefore, an attitude of watchfulness should always keep the remembrance of death in mind.

5. Lastly, watchfulness should fix our gaze on heaven rather than on the world.

As catechumens today take their first step to become full members of the Church, the liturgy exhorts you to watch your thoughts, watch your desires and the movements of your heart, discern what your heart is really longing for, prepare to die to yourself and finally fix your gaze on heaven rather than on the world.

We never know what each day will bring, just as no one knows when the Lord will return. That is why we are to be faithful at whatever duty that has been entrusted to us and making preparation to meet the Lord must be a lifelong commitment. Whether in our business, personal, or spiritual life, this should be how we think, live, preach and pray. Advent is, therefore, a reminder that there is no room for complacency in the Christian life. Let’s heed the Lord’s wake-up call. “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming.” “Watch!”

Pruned to bear even more

 Fifth Sunday of Easter Year B

We often have the impression that St Paul’s transition, from a zealous persecutor of Christians to become the Church’s greatest missionary and preeminent theologian, founding countless churches in the process of his arduous journeys and tireless preaching, was easy and uneventful after the initial dramatic event of his conversion on the road to Damascus. The first reading taken from the Acts of the Apostles debunks this myth and gives us an entirely different picture.

The indifference, cold reception and even opposition which St Paul faced in the early Christian community and with its leadership is understandable. His motives were still unclear and his conversion still a subject of doubt and questioning by those whom he had once hunted and persecuted. Given the negative reception he received from the Christian community in the early years of his new found faith, many of us would have wondered why he chose to stay, what would have motivated him to persevere, even tolerating insults and putting up with humiliation at the hands of fellow Christians. I believe that many would have walked out for a much lesser offence. I’m sure you’ve heard a number of anecdotal stories from ex-Catholics who cite hurts, hostility and inhospitality as some of the reasons for leaving the Catholic Church.

Was there something the Church could have done to prevent their leaving? Could the Church learn how to be more hospitable and accommodating, less demanding? Now, there is nothing wrong with hospitality. Having a welcoming spirit is always welcomed. But should hospitality compromise the truth? Should this mean that we have to insulate and protect all our members and bubble wrap them and their feelings to keep them from being hurt or offended? Should we make Christianity less demanding and more accommodating?

I believe you already know the answer and it’s an unpopular one. Let us look at the person of St Paul or Saul, as he was known in our first reading. The experience of St Paul, being rejected by his own community and later subjected to all kinds of trials and hardship, was not just a natural outcome of his sudden conversion, but a necessary part of his spiritual journey. His conversion did not end on the road to Damascus; it had only begun. It is as if every branch that bore no fruit had to be cut away, every stalk that did bear fruit had to be pruned to make it “bear even more.” These experiences would eventually shape his mission and preaching. He would rather risk being unpopular and even being beaten, then to bend and soften the gospel to accommodate the sensitivities of his audience.

St Paul’s resilience could be in part, be the result of his understanding and assimilating today’s gospel into his life. Our Lord, in introducing Himself as the Vine and we the branches, explains that there are two necessary conditions if we wish to bear fruit from this relationship. The first condition is to “remain”, or in some translations “abide”, in Him. Cut off from Him, we are nothing and we “can do nothing.” Our strength, our fecundity, our effectiveness, wholly depends on Him and is derived from Him.

But there is a second condition to this Master-disciple, Vine-branch relationship. Remaining is just the first prerequisite but there is the second element of pruning. In fact, pruning and remaining corresponds with the two-fold invitation of our Lord to all potential disciples: “Repent and believe in the gospel;” and in another place, “deny yourself .... and follow me.” In the traditional description of the three stages of spiritual development, the purgative, the illuminative and the unitive, the purgative corresponds with the pruning and the remaining corresponds with the illuminative and unitive stages. But pruning is not just meant for some, for beginners on the spiritual journey. It is meant for every one and needed for every stage of our spiritual journey. Listen to what our Lord says: “Every branch in me that bears no fruit he cuts away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes to make it bear even more.”

Notice that it is not only those who are barren, who are fruitless, who would need pruning, but also those who are bearing fruit, because such pruning will allow them to “bear even more.” When the pruning stops, even when a tree starts to bear fruit, it may soon become barren unless the pruning continues. We see in this wonderful analogy, the necessity of pain and suffering in nurturing growth. Pain is to a disciple’s spiritual growth, what pruning is to the development of a fruit on a tree. Pruning is not a punishment for a Christian; it is a reward. Spiritual pruning enhances spiritual growth by removing whatever inhibits spiritual growth. As Victor Hugo wrote, “adversity makes men, prosperity makes monsters.” When children are shielded from adversity, they end up becoming spoilt entitled brats.

But isn’t freedom from pain and suffering the ultimate goal of Christian life? In fact, many Christians pursue Christian discipline precisely because they wish to be blessed by God and be preserved from trouble and danger. I believe most Christians have gotten it wrong in this area, which explains how common it is for Christians to complain that God has been unfair to them - good people seem to have it tough whereas bad people seem to flourish and do well. Such complaints betray a misconception in theology, especially in understanding the place of suffering in a Christian’s life.

Freedom from pain and suffering is a promise of a Christian’s future glorification; but pain and suffering are a part of his present sanctification. No pain no gain. In this life, the cross is a necessary part of our spiritual journey. The pain of spiritual pruning is not the result of a malicious and sadistic God who loves watching us suffer, rather such pain arises from our inordinate attachments, our inability to let go of the things which inhibit our spiritual growth. When these things which we are attached to are removed from our lives, we are enhanced, not diminished. Whenever the Lord prunes us, we lose a part of ourselves, but it’s the part we can do without - our pride, our stubbornness, our selfishness, our greed, our ambitions, our need for approval. But in doing so, our attachment to Him the Vine, becomes strengthened and because of the tightening of this bond, we are enriched in virtue and grace.

So, the next time you encounter adversity or difficulty, do not resist or run away or complain. Instead, welcome it as a blessing. Obediently and patiently submit to the pruning hand of the Vine Dresser. Don’t just settle for what is easier, more convenient, more comfortable, less demanding. Rather, give to God your best and your greatest – Deo Optimo Maximo – knowing that whatever He has pruned from your life, will not make you poorer but richer, it will not make you weaker but stronger, it will not make you smaller but greater. As how the Lord promised St Paul: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Cor 12:9)

Worship is not Theatre

Ash Wednesday

Today, if Air Asia claims that everyone can fly, social media has made it possible for just anyone to be a celebrity. Every mundane thought, feeling, moment or action is posted somewhere on social media to make sure others know what we’ve done, seen, experienced or felt today. It’s as if we try really hard to receive validation and appreciation: we need people to see we are doing good things, we need a certain number of ‘likes’ and ‘comments’ for our actions to be of value. I often see - when I'm on Facebook - videos or photos of people giving to the poor, or helping someone out: people record themselves doing these things and then share them online for the world to see. Today, for example, we’re going to witness loads of Instagram foodie shots exhibiting that miserable slice of bread or bowl of soup that constitutes our fasting diet. If not for the recent pastoral recommendation to prevent the spread of COVID-19, we would also see many photos of ash stained foreheads.

But our Lord warns us in today’s gospel, people who do this, “they have had their reward.” In other words, when we show our good deeds to the world, and receive validation from the world in this way, the only reward we will receive for that deed is of this world - it is of no eternal value. We can have our reward, votes, acclaim, temporary esteem but we cannot use it as “credit” to get to Heaven – because we have expended our entire reward in the here and now. When we act in this way, we do it not to please God, but rather we crave the praise of men.

It is interesting how our Lord uses the word “hypocrite” in today’s passage. For in ancient times, the word was more commonly heard in the theatre than in a temple. It was a word used to describe an actor on a stage. The Greek word, in referring to the actor, means “under the mask” or “mask-wearer”.  The actor was play-acting, he was pretending. That is what hypocrites do. They pretend.

So when our Lord used this word to speak of those practising the traditional acts of piety, prayer, fasting and alms-giving, the word carried a weightier sting. What were these people pretending to be? They were pretending to be religious; holy; spiritual; they were pretending to be people who were serving God. The religious hypocrite has perfected the outward appearance, the ingratiating smile, the holier than thou accent, the long robes and so forth. With all the fanfare, pyrotechnics, and showmanship- God is totally unimpressed! They were pretending to be people who wanted to please God but God wasn’t pleased. Even today there are some people who desperately crave an audience for their spirituality. For these people if the show is not “on” then the performance is “off”. Their spirituality is wholly and solely for human consumption. Jesus says that ‘such people have had their reward’ – they crave fleeting human attention, human praise, human admiration, and that is all the reward they will ever get. They forget that if others are not able to see through their disguises, God can. He sees through every disguise and pretense. He alone knows who and what we truly are.

At first glance, this may seem opposed to our Lord’s earlier teaching, which we heard two Sundays ago, to be “salt of the earth,” “light of the world,” “a city built on a hill” and to let “your light shine before others” so that “they may see your good deeds.” There, our Lord commanded the disciples to live the beatitudes visibly in order to radiate God’s love to the world. When others see our good deeds, it is meant to give glory to God. In today’s passage, however, our Lord warns us not to do righteous deeds in order to draw attention to ourselves.

So, it must be clear that our Lord is not condemning the penitential acts of fasting, prayer and almsgiving. What is in question is the interior motivation and disposition for these acts. What must be avoided would be “hypocrisy”. These pious practices in themselves, however, are not evidence of hypocrisy. Hypocrisy is the split between outward show and inner reality, where actions do not correspond to one’s interior life. So, the words of Jesus are not to be interpreted as a disavowal of external actions but an invitation to match external actions with interior disposition. Our charitable acts must flow from a heart that is truly charitable and not only because we wish to earn the praises of others. Every act of penance must have an interior aspect, an inner change of heart, as well as an exterior aspect, changing one’s life in harmony with the change of heart. The interior aspect has to do with sorrow for sin, and with a firm resolve to amend one’s life, to conform ourselves more closely to Christ; the exterior aspect has to do with the self-denial, the good works, the sacrifices, which are necessary to overcome one’s selfish tendencies that lead to sin. In all matters, our actions must give glory to God. Our pious acts are not meant to “show off” our piety, but to “show forth” God’s love in the world.

What happens when our actions are meant to show off instead of glorifying God? Two Protestant Pastors in their best-selling book had this to say, “When ministry becomes performance, then the sanctuary becomes a theater, the congregation becomes an audience, worship becomes entertainment, and man’s applause and approval become the measure of success. But when ministry is for the glory of God, His presence moves into the sanctuary. Even the unsaved visitor will fall down on his face, worship God, and confess that God is among us.” (Warren and David Wiersbe, 10 Power Principles for Christian Service)

Three times Jesus uses the phrase: “And your Father who sees all that is done in secret will reward you.” And twice Jesus refers to ‘your Father who is in that secret place”. We are reminded that the God who sees acts hidden from human sight will surely reward our devotions given without fanfare. By leaving the question of reward to God, one is set free from the concerns of others. God is watching us and cannot be fooled. Spiritual performance is thus completely futile, and only humility, repentance and contrition will impress the Lord. 

Prayer, fasting and almsgiving are good, and we should all continue to pray, fast and give alms but these pious actions are not performance, nor is it theatre and it is certainly not a way of winning public approval. Prayer, fasting and almsgiving are ways in which we seek to enter into a holy reverent communion with God, not theatrics, antics and showmanship. Therefore, we need to be on guard against the temptation to want to please man; or to congratulate ourselves; or to seek the wrong reward; to have the wrong motivation. The effort to lead a life of public piety should not make us self-congratulatory, self-justifying or judgmental of others. If this has happened, we know that we have fallen into the trap or the “quicksand” of hypocrisy.

For a supremely ironic twist to this central theme of the gospel that warns us of making a show of our religion, today we will be sprinkled with ashes on our crown. Perhaps, it would be good to remember what the Lord has to say about hypocrisy, so that our ashes would not just be a means of “showing off” but a means of “showing forth” Christ to the world, a reminder of our mortality and sinfulness, and a visible call to all to “repent and believe in the good news.” During this season of Lent, let us ask the Lord to deepen our prayer life, to grant us the courage and self-discipline to fast and the generosity to share with the poor. Let our Lenten practices not be mere external actions. We pray for a change of heart, a “turning to the Lord your God again”. Let our “hearts be broken not (just our) garments torn.”

Make a Stand

Twentieth Ordinary Sunday Year C

A few years ago, I was attending a concluding conference of a programme organised by an interfaith dialogue institute in the United States. Ironically (and you’ll come to appreciate the irony shortly), this took place on the campus of the Catholic University of America in Washington D.C. The ‘valedictorian’ chosen for the closing address was a fellow Catholic priest from a different country. It became obvious why he was the clear choice; his views were in tandem with those of the sponsoring institute. I’ve often listened to disparaging remarks regarding the Catholic Church and its teachings and have moved beyond the initial indignation, but I must admit that this address set new standards ad nauseum; especially, as it came from an ordained Catholic priest in a reputable Catholic university.

The whole address, which was originally feted as something to do with peace-building, interfaith dialogue and stuff-like-that degenerated into a sustained attack on the Catholic faith, covering a whole spectrum of topics: from its anachronistic grip on Tradition, to its misogynistic discrimination of women, and finally to its tolerance of intolerant and supposedly violent teachings and scriptures. To my amusement and the horror of the local faculty, the speaker announced at the end that he was going to take a firm stand against violence and bigotry by launching a crusade to revamp the whole body of Catholic teaching and undertaking a re-editing of sacred scripture to remove all offending texts, including the one we just heard today. Of course, no one took the claim seriously. An Indonesian Muslim participant, who sat beside me during the lecture, turned to me and asked a question which must have been playing on everyone’s mind: “Is he a Catholic?”

The remarks which I heard in this address were not unusual or isolated. They have been around for some time. Today you can get away with saying anything disrespectful, horrifying, insulting, or just outright slanderous about the Catholic Church and the Catholic faith and get away with it. But what seems more shocking is that we are witnessing the emergence of more zealous critics within the ranks of the Church. In fact, negative assessment of all things Catholic does not necessarily emanate from the secular media alone or the likes of Richard Dawkins. Many ‘Catholic’ institutions, including seminaries and clerics, including high-standing ones, are doing a pretty good job at using the Church as a convenient punching bag. Today, being Catholic whilst being anti-Catholic doesn’t seem to be much of a contradiction. In fact, it has become trendy to be anti-establishment or anti-Catholic! By doing so, one feels more ‘alike’ the world than ‘apart’ from it.

The reason for such an unholy alliance is simple: traditional Catholicism and religion is seen as the real cause for violence and wars in the world and thus needs to be ‘fixed’ or ‘eradicated.’ In one online discussion, I lifted the following criticism, which is quite characteristic of others: “Religion is the harbinger of ignorance and bigotry, and faith's greatest enemy is reason. It also instils nationalism, racism, sexism, homophobia, and it encourages the intervention and judgment of society on the private individual.” If you were to ask for a proof text to substantiate the above allegations, you would most likely get a quotation from today’s gospel, citing that Jesus, himself, whom Christians claim to be the Prince of Peace, personally advocated violence and in today’s gospel, announces his real agenda; that he is here to ‘bring fire to the earth’ and division, not peace. The Matthean version is more incendiary, ‘I come not to bring peace, but to bring the sword’ (Matt 10:34).

To cite the words of Jesus in today’s gospel, such as ‘bring fire to the earth’ or ‘I am here to bring division’, as the cause of all the violence and hatred we see in the world is ludicrous. Jesus is not making some broad statement about his ultimate purpose. Rather, he is pointing to a very real result of his kingdom proclamation. The gospel will effect divisions because Jesus confronts us with the truth. He is "the truth" (John 14:6) and we have to respond. Our response will ultimately be the point of division. We can either accept the Truth or reject ‘him’. If we try to ignore, that too is a form of rejection. As Jesus announced the kingdom of God, calling for primary allegiance, this will inevitably cause splits and create rifts between different camps, those who will stand with him in the Kingdom, and those who refuse to abide with him or even choose to stand against the Kingdom. The family, the traditional central institution that provides protection and social identity, must also give way to this new relationship with Christ. So, even though the kingdom of God ultimately establishes God’s peace on earth, the advance of the kingdom brings division.

The fiery message of this passage is equally crucial to our times. The challenge thrown by Jesus is contrary to many of the prevalent values of our age, the two principal ones being inclusiveness and moral relativity. As a result of this obsession with "inclusiveness," we are told that we should accept "alternative lifestyles", accept all sorts of behaviour that used to be considered unacceptable. The watchword is "tolerance". Some have almost made a god of tolerance. Yet we find these same people can be quite intolerant of any viewpoint that does not tolerate every kind of behaviour. Closely related to this teaching of tolerance is the concept of moral relativity, which illogically argues that there are no moral absolutes, except its own claim to be absolute. We must, however, note that Truth is indeed intolerant but its intolerance is directed to lies and sin which seek to hide under the cover of euphemisms. We must remember that Jesus was never tolerant of evil. In the case of the woman caught in adultery (John 8:11), he reached out to the sinner in love, but he hated sin. Compassion and acceptance of the sinner never meant tolerance of their behaviour. It meant exhorting them to cease that sort of behaviour. Jesus drew very sharp lines between what was good and what was evil, what was moral and what was immoral, lines which our modern society attempts to blur. When we blur the line between good and evil, we call destruction upon ourselves.

This unhappy truth does not, of course, imply that followers of Jesus are to seek conflict or to try to split up families or bring division. In fact, Jesus makes it clear that we are to be peacemakers and “to live in peace with each other” (Matt. 5:9; Mark 9:50). St Paul adds: “Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone” (Rom. 12:18). But making peace is not the same as making nice. Sometimes, our efforts to bring genuine peace to a situation or a relationship will, in fact, lead to conflict. Neither, does making peace mean compromising the Truth. Quite often the gospel demands exposing the lie that underlies our culture and society.

So, today, Jesus draws the lines and calls us to make a stand. Jesus contrasted his way to the way of the world quite emphatically: “He who is not with me is against me” (Luke 11:23). I’m reminded of the meditation of the Two Standards in the Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius of Loyola. Ignatius believed that there is a battle between good and evil going on in the world and in our hearts. It is important that we are aware of this battle. All disciples have to choose where we are going to stand—with Jesus or with the world. Many of us, well-intentioned Catholics, may honestly believe that we are standing with Christ but unknowingly aligning ourselves with the world’s standard. Our collusion with the world may sometimes be benign and subtle. When we are afraid to witness to the values of the Kingdom with the excuse that we wish to be peaceful and respectful, that we do not wish to offend anyone, we are actually standing out of line, within the firing range of enemy territory. When we try to be friendly with the world, we may make the fatal mistake of being an unwitting Trojan horse within our own ranks – thus the oxymoron of a committed Catholic who’s anti-Catholic. When the lines are blurred, our benign collusion may actually be a path to succumb to the darkness. We begin to buy into the lies of the world and after a while become advocates of ideologies that emerge from the world, to the extent of treating them as divinely inspired theological doctrines.

I just recently read the meditation by the Maltese Cardinal Prosper Grech given to the College of Cardinal Electors just before they sealed the Enclave that had elected our new Pope Francis. In his reflection, the eminent and erudite Cardinal presented several points of what he believed Christ would want of his Church. Any reader would clearly agree that this is not the soft fluffy version of the gospel, heavily edited by the tools and standards of political correctness. On the contrary, it unequivocally presents and states the real hard Truth, the kind of Truth that demands a response, a decision, a Truth that will evoke division between those who choose to stand with Christ or with the world. I guess anything fit for an audience like the princely College of Electors should be fit for us lowly folk. I would like to share the first point he made, which thus acts as a foundation for the rest: “After his resurrection Jesus sent the apostles into the whole world to make disciples of all peoples and baptise them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit (Mt 29:19). The Church does this by presenting the Gospel without compromise, without diluting the word… When one descends to compromises with the Gospel one empties it of its “dynamis,” (power) as if one were to remove the explosive from a hand grenade.” Pow! As we draw closer to Christ and his gospel, the lines are being more sharply drawn between good and evil, between truth and falsity, between faithful orthodoxy and disobedient dissent, between the one true God and false gods. We must choose. We must make our stand. There is no middle ground.