Without God, all is vanity

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Vanity seems to be a vice that is not only confined to women but also equally plagues men. Coiffed hair, manicured nails, shiny smooth complexions that scream of repeated facials, and a wardrobe that could put Imelda Marcos’ shoe collection to shame. Vanity in this context means pride but vanity could also mean futility or the pointlessness of our actions and decisions or even life itself. The readings for today address the latter.

People often struggle with these questions, ‘What is life all about?’ ‘What is man’s purpose in this life?’ This is what the Book of Ecclesiastes seeks to address. The book is a philosophical essay attributed to Solomon, the proverbial philosopher king. The author wrote this book from the mistakes he made. He shares his own life’s search. The man had wisdom, riches, horses, armies, and women (that’s an understatement, he had lots of women). Yet, in the end Solomon declared everything to be vanity; in other word, pointless, worthless, meaningless, and purposeless. To pursue vanity is to chase after the wind. Starting with the well-known words, "Vanity of vanities, and all is vanity," and repeating them in the last chapter after having taken us through all the vanities of life, the book contains the important lesson he learns from God, in a sort of ‘roundabout’ way. The Book ends by giving us the antidote of vanity: fear of the Lord and the observance of the moral law. The secret to a purposeful life is: Without God, ‘all is vanity’. But with God, nothing is in vain.

In the gospel, we are given two examples of such earthly vanity - the greedy brother and the rich man in a parable told by the Lord. A man in the crowd puts this request to the Lord, “Master, tell my brother to give me a share of our inheritance.” The question sounds oddly familiar. I’ve seen how family battles over inheritance have set kith against kin. The law of primogeniture says (Num 27:1-11 Deut 21:15) that the first born gets a double portion. If you had two brothers, you divided the estate three ways and the oldest got two parts. So, guess which son this is. His request suggests that he’s the youngest son. Greed, envy and a sense of entitlement have blinded him to place money above kinship.

Understanding the context of the disgruntled brother sets the stage for the parable. There is a comparison and contrast going on between the two characters in the parable and two characters outside the parable. The rich man in the parable is compared to the unhappy younger brother in real life. Christ in real life acts as judge and arbiter, a role taken by God in the parable. Why is the Lord telling this parable about the rich man who had no greed to a greedy man? The Lord builds up the rich man as a good guy, a content man, someone you can easily identify with and would aspire to become. This guy is just the opposite of the disgruntled and unhappy brother. What do we learn? Both men thought that life consisted in ‘things’, that the end and purpose of their lives were the acquisition of such ‘things.’ Selfishness and self-satisfaction have blinded them to the bonds of fraternity and life’s ultimate purpose.

Both the disgruntled younger brother and the contented rich man, in their pursuit for wealth without realising that they risk losing everything in a single moment, proves the point that ‘all is vanity.’ There is a major reversal in the parable – the man who thinks himself clever is proven foolish; the rich man ends up being poor to God. Notice the poetic justice. The rich man, like the entitled brother and like so many of us, so obsessed in storing up treasures for ourselves in this place, acquiring knowledge, wealth, possessions and a list of achievements, had lost sight of the fact that our ultimate goal is our own salvation – making ourselves ‘rich in the sight of God.’ The rich man is not condemned for his wealth or even his greed. He is condemned for forgetting that the ultimate ‘end’ or purpose of his life is salvation. He had made no preparations for this. He was too busy investing in this world and that is the ultimate vanity.

This parable speaks loudly to our generation; it speaks of the purpose of life and what defines it? Have you been defining life in your career, your house, your stock portfolio, in terms of your achievements, the knowledge you possess, the popularity you’ve gained, or the assumption that you will live much longer? What is going to happen when you lose one or more of those things? What happens when you get laid off? What happens when the stock market crashes? What happens when you get some disease which takes away your physical ability? What happens when your friends leave you? What happens if another pandemic hits again? If you define life according to these things, you will be devastated. If these things have become the ‘end’ and purpose of your lives, the goals you are ultimately pursuing, the treasures you are seeking for, then the diagnosis is terminal – vanity of vanities, all is vanity!

St Thomas Aquinas teaches that the real end for which man is made is to be reunited with the goodness of God through virtuous behaviour as well as the use of reason in order to know and love God above all. In the words of St Augustine, “that is our final good, which is loved for its own sake, and all other things for the sake of it.” St Ignatius Loyola in setting out the First Principle and Foundation in his Spiritual Exercises writes, “The human person is created to praise, reverence, and serve God Our Lord, and by doing so, to save his or her soul. All other things on the face of the earth are created for human beings in order to help them pursue the end for which they are created. It follows from this that one must use other created things, in so far as they help towards one's end, and free oneself from them, in so far as they are obstacles to one's end.” Thus, the riches of this life are only potentially good. Their goodness is actualised when they serve the greater good – the glory of God and love of neighbour.

The irony we face is that many people would prefer to love the means rather than the end. Man need not just love bad things in order to be condemned to hell. As the old adage teaches us, “The road to hell is lined with good intentions.” Man can pervert his ultimate end by loving seemingly good things, which seem to bring happiness, and mistake these things for the actual, infinite source of happiness - God. Whenever we choose the lesser goods over the greater Good, whenever we convert the means into the end, whenever our vision is obscured to see beyond what lies immediately before us, then we are in trouble. Everything comes down to the choice: do we choose these things as a means to the end, or do we choose them as a substitute for the end?

Today, the readings challenge us to seek the Source of all Goodness, and not just the goods He dispenses. Desire the God of Miracles, not just hunger for the miracles of God. Long for the giver and not just the gifts. Our thoughts should be on the ultimate prize: Heaven. Things of this earth either lead us to that prize, or they may distract us from that and therefore should be placed in their proper place. When we trudge the road of happy destiny, we must remember that the road is just a means to an end and not the destination itself. Anything else is VANITY!

A Time to Keep Silent, A Time to Speak Out

Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord

One of the most important pieces of advice someone would give us is “make your voice be heard.” Whether it is to express your opinion at a meeting, or speaking up in class, or starting a podcast to air your views or participating in a demonstration in support of some political cause, making your voice heard seems to be a reasonably good piece of advice.

On this first day of Holy Week, we Christians are reminded of our fundamental duty to make our voices heard, not in the sense of self-promotion or drawing attention to oneself, nor in seeking to influence others and win them over to our side, but that we may proclaim the wonders of God’s work.

In the first gospel reading we heard before the entrance procession, the Pharisees were complaining that the disciples and crowd who were welcoming our Lord to Jerusalem were making a ruckus by shouting and singing. They told the Lord: “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” In other words, they were asking our Lord to tell them: “be quiet.” This noisy behaviour, in their own estimation, was not the behaviour of pious disciples of a holy rabbi but sounded more like a gang of loud drunken sailors. Our Lord, instead of bending to pressure, doubles down and defends His disciples by commending them: “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

In the first reading, the prophet Isaiah declares that the Lord Himself had given him “a disciple’s tongue.” It is not a glib tongue that will earn him fans or popular support. In fact, what he says at the behest of God would prove so unpopular that he would be the subject of rejection, ridicule and persecution. The image of the Suffering Servant who remains faithful to his mission in the face of adversity becomes an apt figure for the future Messiah. Our Lord’s own passion would be the fulfilment of the words of Isaiah: “I offered my back to those who struck me, my cheeks to those who tore at my beard; I did not cover my face against insult and spittle.” Despite such taunting, torture and opposition, the servant remains steadfast in mission to “speak out” on behalf of the Lord because he knows that with the Lord’s help, no insult would hurt him.

The theme of speaking out is contrasted with its counterpart of remaining silent. St Paul in the second reading paints this beautiful picture of the One who is God humbling Himself to such an extent of assuming the lowly state of a slave. His humility would go so far as to accept the penalty of death even though He is the Deathless God. The Word of God whom chaos could not silence at the beginning of creation chooses to mute Himself out of love and obedience to the Father’s will. What should our response be in knowing this truth, the truth that God’s greatest act in history would be in becoming small? Our silence is not an option. St Paul tells us that “every tongue should acclaim Jesus Christ as Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” His decision to become human has not compromised His divinity. On the contrary, His humiliation in death is the very reason we acknowledge His glory as Lord and God.

In the lengthy passion gospel reading that we just heard, we notice our Lord’s response to those around Him. From the scene of the Last Supper to His lifeless body being taken down from the cross, we see a man who is very much in charge though others assume that they have taken charge of Him. Sometimes He speaks and sometimes He chooses to remain silent. As the narrative progresses, notice that our Lord eventually chooses to remain silent especially when He is accused, ridiculed and mocked. But our Lord does not cease speaking directly to His Heavenly Father. The Father, however, remains silent throughout this soliloquy. The one exception to our Lord’s silence is when He promises salvation to the good thief who was crucified with Him. As His life expired on the cross, His final words summed up His entire life and mission. Once again, addressed solely to the Heavenly Father: “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” At the end, instead of ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ as we would hear in Mark’s Passion, Luke’s Jesus Himself tranquilly yields His life into the Father’s hands, obediently completing His Father’s will.

How different our Lord’s response at His trials and crucifixion is from ordinary human nature. Even when we have done something wrong and know we are wrong, still the first words that tend to form in our mouths are words of excuses and self-defence. And what about when we are right but are blamed for being wrong? Most of us would be quick to speak up and protest our innocence. It’s just human nature to want to speak up and justify ourselves. But our Lord met His accusers with silence, as had the prophet Isaiah written seven hundred years ago, “He is brought as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opens not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). He held back any words that would have relieved Him from the shame and blame of sin. He was not a sinner, but He took fully the sinner’s place. Thank God that Jesus was willing to be counted a sinner before men, that we might be counted as righteous before God! Thank God, He chose to speak up on our behalf, even though His own disciples chose to remain silent in His hour of need.

Our Lord reveals the truth behind this paradox first announced by the philosopher king: “A time to keep silence, And a time to speak” (Eccles 3:7-8). Our Lord provides us with a model to follow and imitate. There is a time to remain silent and a time to speak up. We need to seek wisdom from the Holy Spirit as to when it’s time for each response. When it comes to ourselves, do remember that we do not need to have the last word or pursue any argument to vindicate ourselves. God is our vindicator if indeed we were unfairly maligned. But when you are given the opportunity to testify to who Jesus is and your faith in Him, don’t hesitate to honour Him with your words and your testimony. Even if you’re treated in a similar manner to the treatment He endured, honour Him with your lips, your lifestyle, and the lasting impression you leave upon those you interact with in this world. 

Hosanna! “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord!”

Wisdom pursues eternal life

Twenty Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Real Food and Real Drink

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

We come to the close of our Lord’s Discourse on the Bread of Life. One would imagine that His audience’s hearts had been softened by all the explanation which our Lord had offered thus far and which we have heard for the past few weeks. But our Lord’s teaching on this subject reaches its climax today with this shocking revelation. The kid’s gloves are off and no mushy gooey diet is served to His listeners. Our Lord gets to the very heart of the matter and says it as it is: “if you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you will not have life in you. Anyone who does eat my flesh and drink my blood has eternal life, and I shall raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is real food and my blood is real drink.” If eating flesh makes you sick to your stomach, try drinking blood to down the gory meal!

If it is disgusting to demand that they eat His flesh, can you imagine the horror of His audience when the Lord tells them that they must also drink His blood. The Jews have one of the most hemophobic cultures on this planet; there is little that is more disgusting and offensive to a Jew than being expected to touch blood, let alone consume it. And the text did not use the standard Greek verb “to eat” here when it emphasises this eating and drinking: φᾰγεῖν (phagein) is the standard, classical Greek verb “to eat,” the way humans eat a meal. The verb here instead is τρώγειν (trōgein), used especially of animals eating or feeding, most literally translated as “to bite, chew, gnaw.” No dainty fine dining here but a blood fest!

Up to this point, the growing crowd had been thrilled with the Lord. After all, He could heal the sick and feed the masses with a meagre supply of bread and fish! Was this the long-awaited Prophet, the likes which they have not seen since Moses? They were even ready to make Him king. But our Lord discerned something defective about their enthusiasm. They desired more loaves from heaven, a repeat performance of what Moses did for their ancestors during the Exodus, but not the bread He had come to give them: Himself. So, He tested their understanding and readiness to accept what He was about to offer them with a series of increasingly provocative statements, culminating in the one above. We should not be surprised that they took offence; it sounded like cannibalism. The “Jesus for King” campaign suddenly evaporated.

Protestants would look at this passage and insist that the crowds had misunderstood our Lord by taking His words literally whereas they should be understood metaphorically. Here is where our Protestant brethren have gotten it wrong. It is ironic how Protestants take many passages in the Bible literally but not this one, even though our Lord insists that He was. Our Lord was indeed speaking literally instead of metaphorically. His declaration that He was the Bread of Life is radically different from all the other “I am” pronouncements. No one expects Jesus to be speaking literally when He describes Himself as the Door or the Vine. But here our Lord insists that His flesh and blood are real food and real drink. As one aging statesman is fond of saying: “no kidding… it’s not hyperbole … but seriously!”

There seems little question about what the Lord meant: If He did not intend for His words to suggest an actual eating and drinking of His body and blood, He would not have emphasised this statement more explicitly when questioned about it, and He would have made some effort to clarify the misunderstanding when His disciples protested, if it was in fact a misunderstanding. We would hear how He refused to correct His words in next week’s final instalment of Chapter 6 of John’s Gospel, even when many of His disciples decided to walk away in protest. He did not stop them because for once, they did understand what He meant and since He literally spoke the truth, there is no need for Him to apologise or correct His speech. Our Lord refused to revise His speech even if it meant losing these number of followers. They were not true “disciples” who were ready to accept Him at His word.

“If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you will not have life in you.” That’s a tall claim, in fact, the tallest! Other types of food give sustenance and provide us with the necessary nutrition for health and growth and ensures our survival. But only one food can guarantee Eternal Life. It is the Eucharist: “Anyone who eats this bread will live forever!” The first reading taken from the Book of Proverbs speaks of Wisdom preparing a feast. The Eucharist is indeed the Feast of Wisdom because it is the Feast of Life – eternal life which is communion with God. This life in communion with God is the highest wisdom, and surpasses all wisdom, because it seals this bond between God and man. By eating the Body and drinking the Blood of Christ in the Eucharist we become united to the person of Christ through his humanity. “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.”

In being united to the humanity of Christ we are at the same time united to His divinity. Our mortal and corruptible natures are transformed by being joined to the source of life. In a divine twist, that which was desired by Adam and Eve (food that would make them like gods) but denied to them as a result of their disobedience and foolishness, is made available through this food which Christ, Holy Wisdom, now commands us to partake.

One of the keys to understanding Catholic theology — and one of the beauties, in its simplicity and complexity at the same time — is that just as this passage conveys both a physical and a spiritual sense, each of the Sacraments conveys both a physical and a spiritual effect. The Sacraments consist outwardly in simple, physical actions: washing with water, anointing with oil, the laying on of hands. And these actions not only symbolise a spiritual reality — the washing away of sins, the passing of authority and commissioning of duty — but they actually accomplish spiritually what they represent physically. Likewise, the Eucharist, by the simple act of eating and drinking the consecrated Hosts, not only symbolises and represents Communion in Christ’s Body, but actually infuses us with His grace because IT IS the Body and Blood of Christ. We literally, physically, spiritually share in Christ’s Body and Blood, in His humanity and divinity, in His eternal life. We believe this to be true because He had said so and who are we to doubt when you’ve heard it from the horse’s mouth.

Wisdom and Good Deeds

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

We have another parable from St Matthew’s gospel. This time it is that of the ten bridesmaids who fall into two categories. A distinction is made between the sensible and the foolish ones. What differentiates one group from the other? The sensible ones treasure wisdom while the foolish ones show disdain for it. What is this wisdom which some yearn and seek while others ignore and reject?

Wisdom or Chokhmah, according to Hebrew understanding, is not just intelligence or theoretical or philosophical concepts regarding the nature of things. Wisdom is a direct attribute of our Divine and Eternal Lord. When applied to man it is the ability to judge correctly and to follow the best course of action, based on knowledge and understanding. As opposed to the Greek idea of wisdom, Chokhmah is practical. Wisdom leads to right action. It grants a person the ability to see something from God’s viewpoint. That is why a rejection of wisdom is not just a matter of rejecting reason and logic but rather, the rejection of God.

In the wisdom literature of the Old Testament, such as the example taken from the Book of Wisdom in the first reading, God’s infinite wisdom is personified as a woman. The association of divine wisdom with the feminine is not accidental. The relationship between a wife and her husband is the reflected spiritual relationship between Israel and God. The Law and the Prophets provided the wisdom writers with many feminine images (including homemaker, counselor and wise woman, and lover) that influenced their use of female imagery for divine wisdom. The maternal aspect of wisdom comes to the fore. Just as a mother would be the first teacher for her children, guiding them and tutoring them, wisdom literature was written to teach young male students how to function in society and find meaning and order in the world.

In the first reading, we are assured that people have access to common wisdom, which is described as being right out there on the street—out in public. It is in the forest; it is in the city; it is on the job—it is everywhere! We are surrounded by it! While wisdom belongs to God, it can be pursued and in fact pursues individuals. This is why St Paul can make the accusation that the Gentiles who do not have the law are a law unto themselves when they do what the law says is right (Romans 2:14). Their own conscience bears them witness that they understand what is right and what is wrong (verse 15)!

As we turn to the Gospel, we see how our Lord uses this principle of wisdom in a novel way. Wisdom is now the prerequisite for salvation, being admitted to the eschatological wedding banquet, whereas those who had ignored her counsel would be denied entry.

The storyline is simple enough. The parable takes place within the festive and joyful context of a wedding, yet the final message is a sober exhortation to be properly prepared. It relates that ten young maidens, bridesmaids, were outfitted with torches/lamps and oil, were awaiting the arrival of a bridegroom. Notice the feminine and the lover-bride motif in this parable, both being traditional symbols of wisdom. Five of the maidens, the wise ones, had extra oil with them, the others, foolish ones, did not. When the time of the bridegroom’s arrival finally draws near, the foolish ones needed more oil and asked the wise for oil; the wise refused and sent the foolish ones to buy their own. Meanwhile, the wise ones went in with the bridegroom to the wedding feast and the door was locked. The foolish ones returned and were turned away. Thus, the parable ends with our Lord’s admonishment to stay awake, to be prepared.

This story begs the question, “Why would the five maidens not share their oil?” This appears selfish, so why are they called “wise.” First, while it is not clear whether they were carrying lamps or torches (the Greek word can mean either), they would need oil, either to fill the lamps or to apply to the rags used for torches. On the human level, these five maidens had foresight; they had not only made immediate plans but had also planned for any eventuality, including a long wait, and they knew they might not have enough oil to last the night. But this logical explanation is inadequate for us to discern their behaviour. If the bridegroom is Christ, however, and the wedding feast is the end-time banquet, we have a clue to unravel the conduct of these maidens.

In the Sermon on the Mount, the Lord tells His audience that they are “the light of the world.” He encourages them: “Let your light so shine before others that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in Heaven” (5:14-16). Light is not just a metaphor for evangelisation, but we see in these words of the Lord a clear connexion between light and good works.

At the end of the Sermon, our Lord says: “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven” (7:21) – this saying reinforces the truth that deeds are necessary to enter the kingdom. At the end of today’s parable, the foolish bridesmaids make this request: “Lord, Lord … open the door for us.” The repeated petition, “Lord, Lord” allows us to connect this to the necessity of good deeds in verse 7:21 in the Sermon on the Mount. Finally, a later Rabbinic text, Midrash Rabbah, uses “mixed with oil” to refer to the study of the Law combined with good deeds.

And so, the oil for the lamps/torches was meant to signify good deeds. Then it is clear why the five sensible bridesmaids could not share their oil with the foolish ones; these latter would need their own good deeds. No one can borrow the good works of others to make up for the good works they’ve failed to do. Its merits are non-transferable. Each person must, as St Paul wrote, “work out [their] own salvation with fear and trembling” (Phil 2:12). Wise are those who understand this. Foolish are those who don’t.

Chapter 9 of the Book of Proverbs, a reading read during the Feast of Corpus Christi, describes how Lady Wisdom has built her house, set her table and invites her guests to a special banquet. The Eucharist is meant to empower all of us who dine in wisdom to go into the world with the Life of Christ we have received. To faithfully partake of the supper of the lamb in His flesh and blood is to be sufficiently prepared and to have opened the door to wisdom in the Holy Spirit. Let us all pray to receive Christ today and as we return to our seats in our time of thanksgiving after communion, let us ask Him for the gift of wisdom to know how to do His will in our particular life’s calling. With the fuel of Holy Communion, let us keep the flame alive in our hearts as we await our Lord’s coming, not idle but committed to a life of good works, so that we may shine the Light of His Gospel on the world.

Wisdom and Freedom

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Today’s gospel is made up of two parts. And if you really take a second closer look at both parts and consider the implications of what the Lord is telling us, both are equally inexplicable.

God does seem to be a Divine Troll who likes to play cruel tricks on us by “hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to mere children.” To find a clue to this paradoxical statement, one must go back to the primordial garden of Eden where Adam and Eve were permitted to eat all the fruits of the fruit bearing trees in that garden save and except, for the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Despite this warning, our first parents disobeyed the clear and unambiguous instructions of God and consumed the forbidden fruit.

One may think that God’s verdict is an overreaction to a petty crime. But when examined closely, the story reveals the same theme which our Lord wishes to convey in the first part of today’s passage. True wisdom, “knowledge of good and bad,” can only be arrived at by humbly submitting to God and never apart from Him. Adam and Eve sought autonomy from God in making future moral judgments and this was their biggest mistake, the height of human folly. As the Psalmist reminds us: “The fool says in his heart, “There is no God”” (psalm 14:1; 53:1).

St Paul draws upon this reasoning when he concludes in his letter to the Romans that those who live unspiritual lives (lives without God) will die, whereas those who live spiritual lives, will live. The former may think themselves clever and wise in the ways of the world but would be proven the fool when they stand before God spiritually bankrupt.

We live in two worlds, the visible and the invisible. But all too often we focus so much on what we can see and hear that we neglect the world of the Spirit. It is in this invisible interior world that we see God more clearly. I’m reminded of the story of how St Brigid, one of the three patron saints of Ireland, performed a miracle by healing the blindness of an old and holy nun so as the latter could view a most beautiful sunset. After having admired God’s creation for a few moments, the holy nun turned to St Brigid and made this request: “Close my eyes again dear mother, for when the world is so visible to the eyes, God is less clearly seen to the soul.”

So, when God conceals something behind the veneer of mystery, He does so not out of spite or cruelty. He hides that which is most valuable because the things which are easily accessible often lose their value in our estimation. Familiarity breeds contempt while mystery heightens our desire for it.

We must now turn our attention to the second part of our Lord’s teaching. Some may think that this second half is preferable to the first part, since our Lord has promised us rest and that He will remove our burdens if we were to only come to Him in trust. But a closer look at the words of our Lord will also result in something no less befuddling than the first part.

Don’t you think it’s a little bit strange that the Lord’s idea of getting us to rest in Him involves putting on a yoke? A yoke was not created for rest; it was created for work. It literally has nothing to do with rest at all. When our Lord invited the weary and heavy laden to come to Him and find rest, we would expect Him to say something like; Take off that yoke you’re wearing — you don’t need it anymore! But Jesus’ solution for yoke-weariness was not to cast off the yoke entirely; it was to yoke ourselves to Him, to walk in step with Him, to work in sync with Him.

What is the yoke of Christ? The yoke came to be understood by the Jews as a metaphor for the Law. The Jews would use the yoke of the Mosaic Law to pull their life and everything in it along. It left them, however, tired, worn out, and burned out on a religion which laid on more burdens than lifts them. The yoke of grace which our Lord offered was contrary to the yoke of the Law. It was a move from depending on one’s own efforts and ability, to depending on God’s grace and power. This is a different kind of yoke, one perfectly fitted to support and aid us in fulfilling His purpose for our lives. That doesn’t mean being yoked to Christ will always be comfortable, but it’s not supposed to crush us either. You see, that when we are yoked to Christ, He carries most of the weight. He makes Himself become a beast of burden, a donkey like what we heard in the first reading, to bear us and lead us to victory and rest.

Today, most of us don’t suffer under the yoke of the Law like Jesus’ listeners did, but we have other yokes. Chief among these I would suspect is the yoke of performance, the yoke of living up to other people’s expectations, real or imagined. For example, we want to be the best parents possible, so we look for the ideal parenting methods. How our kids turn out is the measure of our parenting success (we think), so we stress out about every little thing they do wrong or might do wrong. Or perhaps we want to be the best at our jobs, so we take on more and more responsibilities because we are afraid that saying no means we might fall behind, lose some of our perks, or be overlooked for the next raise or promotion. Eventually, the overwhelming demands on our limited time and energies render us incapable of hearing the voice of God because we don’t even have time to stop and listen.

When we pull the burdens of life by the yoke of our own performance, then performance sets the pace. We race faster and faster, trying to outdo our last personal best or to measure up to the expectations of others. But when we take on the yoke of Christ and let Him lead, He determines the pace, and we find that His grace makes up what we lack.

So, in these two principles laid out in the Gospel, our Lord presents us with the paradox of Christian discipleship in a nutshell. The wisdom of God may seem foolish in comparison to all the cunning wiles of the worldly and unspiritual people of this world, and yet it is the only wisdom that can guarantee our salvation. The man who counts himself wise in the ways of the world may end up the fool in the after life because the wisdom of God has been hidden from them, as a result of their own choice in pursuing worldly riches.

Likewise, in wishing to be truly free, we must not cast off everything in pursuit of libertine hedonism but instead humbly submit to the yoke of Christ which is light and easy. The yoke of Christ is perfectly fitted to support and aid us in fulfilling His Father’s purpose for our lives. It’s not always comfortable, but that’s not the point. It is always what I need for the path He wants me to walk. Under the yoke of grace, I rest content with where I am right here, right now, weaknesses and all — as long as I am walking close to the Lord Jesus, knowing that with Him, in Him and through Him, I will be led to greater heights.

Dreaming and Believing

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

Dreams can be so vivid and life-like. Psychologists speak of them as the voice of our subconscious crying out for attention, whereas certain primitive cultures view them as premonitions or messages from the gods. According to Jewish tradition and scriptures, God revealed Himself in dreams to biblical heroes, for example, Abram’s dream (Gn 15:12-13); Jacob’s dream at Bethel (Gn 28:12); Joseph’s dreams (Gn 37:5-9); the calling of Samuel (1 Sm 3:3-4) and Daniel’s dream (Dn 2:19). According to the great Jewish historian Josephus (Antiquities of the Jews 2.216-19), God promised Moses’ father in a dream that He would keep the infant Moses safe.

It is no wonder that St Matthew, with his keen interest in showing in his gospel that the Lord Jesus is the fulfilment of the Old Testament prophecies and expectations, utilises themes and literary devices from the Hebrew Scriptures. Among the gospels, the gospel of St Matthew alone provides us with accounts of life-changing dreams, where the dreamers were so convinced about the veracity of their dreams that they had no other choice but to follow them. You might notice that the Christmas story in the gospel of St Matthew is very different than the one in Luke. For here in Matthew, there are no shepherds, no sheep, no manger, no singing angels. Only in Matthew do we meet the magi, we see the star that guides them. Only in Matthew, do we hear about four dreams in the infancy narrative of Jesus (the fifth dream was dreamt by Pilate’s wife who then warned her husband to have nothing to do with Jesus, a warning that went unheeded). Dreams provide the tool by which God directs human affairs.

The first, third, and fourth set of dreams are given to St Joseph, the betrothed of the Virgin Mary. It’s no coincidence that St Joseph is a dreamer like his namesake and ancestor, the patriarch Joseph, who not only dreamt dreams but also interpreted them for others. Since the dreams of St Joseph are not part of today’s gospel reading, I will not trouble you with their details, except to say that they gave direction to St Joseph and his family.

The second dream in the series, comes to the magi at the end of today’s gospel - warning them not to return to Herod. They chose to defy the orders of Herod by obeying the commandment of God to return to their homeland by another way. History tells us that Herod the Great was a wicked, paranoid king, who though hailed by some as a great strategist and builder, but by others as a bloodthirsty insecure ruler. For political reasons, he even murdered three of his own sons. It would seem that our Epiphany narrative is no conspiracy theory but fits neatly into this description of the king. The magi had reason to fear he might target them once he found out where Jesus was born.

After their departure is recorded at the end of today’s gospel, the magi are no longer mentioned anywhere else in the gospels. If their sudden appearance in the storyline seemed almost dream-like, their disappearance would similarly be enigmatic, like a whiff of a dream going up in a magical puff of smoke.

We don’t have to look into the content of the magi’s dream to conclude that there is something magical and dream-like about the whole Christmas narrative and it is this magical element that has inspired both Christians and secular culture to expand on the Christmas story beyond the pages of scripture. The story of what happened to the wise men after they left Jerusalem has also been the stuff of legends.



Matthew does not give us the name of the Magi. The names of the Magi as Balthasar, Caspar, and Melchior, come to us from a 6th-century Greek manuscript. The tradition of chalking our homes also uses the initials taken from their traditional names. Extra biblical tradition also seems to present them as cosmopolitan representatives of the world, with each representing one of the three known continents of antiquity - Europe, Asia and Africa. In almost all modern representations of the Magi, Balthasar is depicted as Black, since he is said to be an African king. Caspar is Asian (said to be an Indian scholar or sage) and Melchior, a Persian (thus Arian) prince representing the white Europeans.

Tradition also has it that after discovering the “infant king of the Jews” (Mt 2:2) and paying Him homage, the Magi returned home, gave up their titles, distributed their property to the poor, and dedicated themselves to spreading the Gospel. Tradition also has it that the apostle St Thomas baptised them forty years later in India. There is also the tradition that tells us that St Thomas ordained them as priests in India and that they were martyred there.

Whether one chooses to believe in the veracity of these extra biblical traditions is not important. What is important is that the discovery of the Magi is real. Though directed by astrological calculations and mystical dreams, the reality that the “infant king of the Jews” who is also the Son of God is undisputed. What the Jewish priests and scribes should have seen by scouring the pages of scripture, the magi had discerned by looking at the stars and reading their dreams, as if these were the natural scriptures of God’s creation.

The impact that the Christ-child had on the Magi is deeply touching. This event completely transformed their lives. According to all these traditions, it was not merely a star that led them from that moment on, but rather, Jesus Christ. Jesus consumed their life and existence. The Magi are an invitation today to let Christ have the same impact on us. Are we wise like the Magi? Let our life tell that story! The depiction of the Magi as people of different colours and races helps us imagine a parish community as a global community. The Magi are the microcosm of a parish community. No one should ever feel unwelcome in a worshipping community. We know that this clearly was a problem in the early Church. In his Letter to the Ephesians, Paul struggles to convince the Jewish Christians that, “Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body, and copartners in Christ Jesus through the gospel” (Eph 3:5-6). The Magi bear witness to a global nature, indeed, the catholicity of the Catholic faith.

The Magi did homage to the Divine Child and then their lives became a witness to Him. Today, after we have woken up from the stupor of sleep and dreams, from two years of pandemic lockdowns and online Masses, let us resolve with excitement and new vigour to do homage to the same Christ, so that our lives too can be transformed and shine like the star that will lead others to Christ.

Seeing beyond the veil

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

All three readings, if read separately, would have had their own respective appeal and would have seemed reasonable had each been judged by their own internal logic. The problem is when we juxtapose them, as the lectionary does this week, and attempt to reconcile the seemingly divergent messages, we may end up having to do theological acrobatic somersaults. Or at least it would seem to be so.

In the first reading, the prophet Amos condemns both the political and religious leaders for the crime of social injustice and their part in oppressing the poor and the powerless. In the second reading, St Paul writes to Timothy and tells him to pray for civil authorities, including those who are corrupt and who are oppressing Christians, for as he reminds Timothy, God “wants everyone to be saved and reach full knowledge of the truth.” So far, so good. There is a recognition of mutuality and the need for checks-and-balances between the two spheres of religion and civil society. On the one hand, we are called to play a prophetic role with regards to civil authorities and call them out for their misdeeds whenever it is necessary. On the other hand, we should also not neglect our duty in praying for them, for it is the will of God that all be saved.

But the gospel seems to cross the line by providing us with the strangest advice on how we should interact and relate with civil society. In this pericope, a steward appears to be commended for dishonest behaviour and made an example for Jesus' disciples. Does it sound like the Lord is asking us to emulate the values of secular society, including buying friends with money and favours? If this was true, then a former Prime Minister of a certain county should not have been tried and sentenced to imprisonment. He should have been celebrated for his astuteness. Of course, none of us would come to this conclusion. This certainly takes the cake when it comes to the ludicrous. It is no wonder that many Christians find this parable a source of embarrassment. How do we reconcile this with the rest of the Bible and our readings for today?

In this fairly simple, if somewhat unorthodox, parable, there is a major reversal of sorts. In most of the Lord’s parables, the main protagonist is either a representative of God, Christ, or some other positive character. In this parable, the characters are all wicked – the steward and the man whose possessions he manages are both unsavoury characters. This should alert us to the fact that Jesus is not exhorting us to emulate the behaviour of the characters, but is trying to expound on a larger principle. Certainly, the Lord wants His followers to be just, righteous, magnanimous, and generous, unlike the main protagonist in the parable. But what does this dishonest steward have to offer us as a point of learning? The gospel notes that the Lord commends him for his “astuteness”.

The dishonest steward is commended not for mishandling his master's wealth, but for his shrewd provision in averting personal disaster and in securing his future livelihood. The original meaning of "astuteness" is "foresight" – the ability to see ahead and anticipate what’s in store in the future. An astute person, therefore, is one who grasps a critical situation with resolution, foresight, and the determination to avoid serious loss or disaster.

If foresight is the true measure of intelligence, a Christian must be ‘super’ intelligent since his foresight extends beyond this temporal plane, it penetrates the veil of death and catches a glimpse of the eternal vision of glory. As the dishonest steward responded decisively to the crisis of his dismissal due to his worldly foresight, so Christians are to respond decisively in the face of their own analogous crisis with heavenly foresight. The crisis may come in the form of the brevity and uncertainty of life or the ever-present prospect of death; for others it is the eschatological crisis occasioned by the coming of the Kingdom of God in the person and ministry of Jesus. It follows that people who are just wholly invested in their present lives, seeking to make themselves rich, famous and popular, but giving little to no thought about the future, about what happens in the afterlife, will be shown to have been the most foolish.

Our Lord is concerned that we avert spiritual crisis and personal disaster through the exercise of faith, foresight and compassion. If Christians would only expend as much foresight and energy to spiritual matters which have eternal consequences as much as they do to earthly matters which have temporal consequences, then they would be truly better off, both in this life and in the age to come. St Ambrose provides us with a spiritual wisdom that can only be perceived through the use of heavenly foresight: “The bosoms of the poor, the houses of widows, the mouths of children are the barns which last forever.” In other words, true wealth consists not in what we keep but in what we give away. Wholesomeness is measured by the extent of how we live our lives for the glory of God, and not for ourselves or for things.

Today, many modern persons see no need for us to pray for them and neither do they believe that we are in any position to judge them. In fact, they often view the Church as anachronistic and Christians as unintelligent, superstitious and irrational dimwits. This couldn’t be further from the truth. Although no empirical research will be able to show this, but the personal experiences of many will testify to the fact that the most intelligent thing an intelligent human being can do is to turn to God, not away from Him. The faith and lives of the heroes and heroines in both scriptures and the history of our Church testify to this. We may have found ways and means of averting or resolving various medical, economic and social crises, but only God is capable of helping us avert the greatest crisis of all - the loss of Eternal Life. It is rightly said that wise men still seek Him, wiser men find Him, and the wisest come to worship Him. Anyone who ignores this truth would be a fool.

The Logic of the Cross

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Just in case your ego is getting a little too inflated and you are seriously tempted to congratulate yourself over your astuteness, then meditating over the string of rhetorical questions posed by the author of the Book of Wisdom in the first reading would be an excellent reality check that brings you back down to planet Earth. The gist of the point being pushed by these questions is simply this: If we cannot even penetrate to an understanding of the visible world around us, how can we hope to reach an understanding of the reasoning and mind of God which is beyond the grasp of all our senses? Or as one priest friend of mine is fond of saying: it’s like a chicken imagining himself to be a phoenix! True wisdom is arrived at, when we come to humbly acknowledge that the mysteries of God and His will for us lie well beyond the reach of all human faculties.

This is how we should approach the teachings of our Lord in the gospel on discipleship. Though our limited human reasoning is capable of seeing the value of weighing the costs that we must be willing to pay before we embark on any new enterprise (as illustrated by the two parables), sacrificing everything and the readiness to bear the cross lie beyond our human comprehension. How do we understand these demands: “Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” “None of you can be my disciple unless he gives up all his possessions.” Both statements defy the common logic of the world. But to understand the cost of discipleship, one must first understand the logic of the cross.

The cross in Greek is ho stauros, a curse word that was never uttered in polite, respectable company. The cross! A scandal to say it, but an even bigger scandal to see the world through it. The logic of the cross is that greatness is achieved not through self-aggrandisement nor through pursuing ambitions of grandeur but by submitting humbly to the path of becoming little in the eyes of the world: life is attained through death; riches are gained through self-renunciation; glory is achieved through the humiliating path of the cross.

The logic of the cross is foolishness to those who are coming out sideways with their piles of degrees and string of titles. But for those of us who believe, the cross is salvation because it is a paradigm shift for how we see and understand God, whose will and power are never found in the materially rich, the powerful, the strong, the influential but in weakness, wonder, reverence and mystery. In fact, the logic of the cross inverts how we imagine power. It flips the hierarchy of value upside down by viewing the world through the lens of the crucified at the very bottom. That was how St Paul tried to convince Philemon to receive his slave, Onesimus, not as an inferior being but as an equal, a brother in Christ.

It is through the logic of the cross, that we should weigh the cost of discipleship. How much does it cost to follow the Lord? Among the hardest sayings in the gospels, today’s passage must certainly count as one of the hardest. But our Lord is laying out all the cards on the table. There is no hidden cost and small print at the bottom of this deal. If you want to follow Him, these are the things every disciple must be prepared to do.

The first statement seems to be the most shocking. Our Lord is unequivocally stating that unless we “hate” those we consider closest to us, we are unworthy of being His disciple. Of course, we can understand that He’s using a hyperbole to capture our attention. What our Lord is saying is that we must be willing to put Him first, ahead of all other human relationships, yes, including family members. Our Lord is certainly not promoting hostility nor is He discouraging filial piety. Rather, He is reminding us of our priorities. He comes first, others second and ourselves, last of all.

Christ is the centre of a truly Christian life. And so, our devotion to Him must supersede our bonds with family, friends, and possessions. We can’t give our hearts entirely to Christ if we’re weighed down too much with earthly cares.

By using two examples or parables, our Lord is saying: think long and hard about Christian discipleship before making a decision. These parables show that Christian discipleship isn’t easy; the commitment must be an ongoing decision to persevere in the faith. When we initially decide to follow Christ, we understand that there will be a price to pay. Only as life unfolds, do we learn the full cost. But our Lord warns us to expect having to pay a significant price, because the cost for Him was the cross at Calvary. Therefore, His followers too must be ready to carry the cross and follow after Him. We have to be willing to risk everything to be His disciple. Cheap, easy and undemanding discipleship is always a counterfeit.

Our Lord doesn’t want a large number of disciples who are only half-way committed to Him. He’s looking for followers who are “all-in,” dedicated to Him through prayer and discipleship. Quality matters more than quantity. Such is the wisdom and the logic of the cross.

St. Teresa of Avila once complained about the hardships that Christians face, and she heard the Lord say, “Teresa, whom the Lord loves, He chastises. This is how I treat all my friends.” Ever the witty thinker, she responded, “No wonder you have so few friends!” So, if you are experiencing suffering, hardship and persecution for Christ, or have few friends because of the Christian values you hold, do not despair. Remember: we are counted among the Lord’s friends. So, learn to take up your cross and learn its logic, and you will be assured of a wisdom and a reward that is beyond this world.

Christ, the Power of God

Third Sunday of Lent Year B

It is perhaps fair to say that most Christians do not quite realise the outrageous character of the most basic and taken-for-granted hallmarks of Christianity. Some may attribute this to years of Catholic “indoctrination” and “normalisation” of such outlandish ideas such as – that the All-powerful invisible God, a purely spiritual Being, should be en-fleshed and take on the form of a weak vulnerable baby; that this God-man would eventually die a scandalous and horrific death; that the very symbol which we Christians revere as the sign of salvation should be an ancient instrument of torture, humiliation and execution. It is no wonder why Christianity is negatively viewed by modern folks in terms of the many claims it makes.

But such opposition is nothing new. It had existed from the very beginning of nascent Christianity and even during the time of Christ Himself. Both the second reading and the gospel shows us instances where the claims of Christians and that of Christ are considered so outrageous that the very growth of Christianity should have been regarded as divinely inspired and a miracle in itself. St Paul in the second reading explains the nature of this opposition, which seems to be universal: “the Jews demand miracles and the Greeks look for wisdom.” And so, the crucified Christ which Christians are preaching would meet opposition from both groups - “to the Jews an obstacle they cannot get over, and to the pagans madness.”

But St Paul proceeds to argue that both these objections are untenable and unreasonable. If you suppose that the Jews required a sign, that sign is given: the miracles that Christ wrought upon earth were signs more than sufficiently abundant; and if the Jewish people had but the will to believe, they would have found abundant signs and reasons for believing in Christ and His apostles. And as for the Greeks who prided themselves over their sophisticated intellectual and philosophical tradition, if they would only humbly and honestly seek to investigate further, they would discover a profoundness of wisdom—a depth where the most gigantic intellect might be drowned. It is no shallow gospel, but a deep truth which we preach, for Christ is the Wisdom of God, and His gospel is the highest of all sciences. If you wish to find wisdom, you must find it in the word of revelation, for what loftier wisdom can there be but the wisdom of God Himself?

We can, therefore, understand why the Jews in the gospel demanded a sign from the Lord to authenticate His authority in having wrecked the foundation of the sacrifice system of the Temple. To a modern reader, this may seem to be a strange request as most people would think that the Lord is attacking the commercialisation of religion, for did He not say, “stop turning my Father’s House into a market”? We often think that the pedlars who were selling animals and the money changers are the ancient equivalent of those religious article pedlars who push their goods to parishioners after Mass. In truth, these “business” people actually formed the foundation of the sacrifice system in the Temple. They provided the animals which were meant for the sacrifice, the basis of Temple worship, and the money changers exchanged the civil currency which was considered unclean and idolatrous, for the kosher Temple currency.

So, the action of our Lord was not the result of outrage, targeting the commercial elements that had invaded the Temple but it was targeting the entire Temple institution itself. You see, if there are no sacrificial offerings, there is no need for the Temple because the Temple exists to make those offerings. On the one hand, the Lord’s actions were prophetic - it pointed to the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. On the other hand, the Lord was announcing that such Temple worship was obsolete because He was the new Temple, He would be the nexus between man and God, in Him God and man meets and unites, and He would render the ultimate perfect sacrifice which would abolish the need for any other sacrifices - the sacrifice of His own life on the cross. From the time of Christ’s death and resurrection, a new temple made from the Body of Christ was established for all nations. All who wanted a sign to locate the Creator’s presence, learn His wisdom, and enjoy His forgiveness can do so simply by embracing the Messiah, “Christ who is the power of God.”

All that the temple had meant for Israel for almost one thousand years, was now to be found in Israel’s Messiah. The presence of God which human beings so longed for was to be found through a personal connexion with Christ, not in a building in East Jerusalem. The hunger for Wisdom that would inspire could be satisfied, not in the courts of a glorious sanctuary, but by feeding on the words of Jesus. True “pilgrims” could henceforth declare their praises, not within the walls of one sacred building, but wherever people gathered in honour of the Messiah. And forgiveness of sins could be enjoyed through the one priestly sacrifice of Jesus, not through the ineffective sacrifices of animals. To the Jews, this may be an obstacle they cannot get over, to the pagans madness, to the modern man a mere fairy tale, but for us Christians, “Christ is the power of God.” He is the Sign by which we know we are saved, the Wisdom by which we come to know God, and the Temple by which we can worship Him.

Be Wise and Stay Awake

Thirty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

As we approach the close of the liturgical year, our readings begin to take on an Advent-like theme: watchful vigilance in preparation for the Lord’s Coming. That is why the Lord closes with this warning, “So stay awake, because you do not know either the day or the hour.”

What does it mean to stay awake? Our Lord cannot be intending this to be taken literally to suggest that Christians should be perpetual insomniacs. For those who have had the experience of keeping vigil to watch over a loved one who is sick, or to view your favourite football team play in the wee hours of the morning or to catch the final results of an election, despite our best efforts to keep alert, sleep still overtakes us. We fall asleep out of exhaustion but also out of disappointment. We fall asleep because we have lost hope to hold out a little longer.

Today’s parable describes the sleepiness that spreads through the community that tires of waiting for the Bridegroom. It should be a night of celebration and joy because the bridegroom is finally returning. But instead, the night becomes frustrating because he is late in coming, just like us when things don’t happen as we had hoped – when God doesn’t work according to our schedule and our Lord does not arrive when we want Him to. This was the experience of the early Christians in Thessalonica to whom St Paul addressed in his letter. St Paul wanted to assure them that the coming of the Lord was certain, and no one would miss out on it.

Coming back to the parable. Notice that all ten bridesmaids got drowsy and fell asleep, the foolish as well as the sensible. For a parable which ends with our Lord’s exhortation to stay awake, it would seem strange that all ten bridesmaids slept on the job. It is as if to say that falling asleep is inevitable, a fact of life. It is not avoiding sleep that differentiates the wise from the foolish. So what sets the sensible apart from the foolish?

The difference is in the extra supply of oil the sensible ones brought and the lack of preparation on the part of the foolish ones who did not expect that they had to wait long. By preparing themselves, the five sensible bridesmaids are allowed to join the groom and enter into the wedding feast. But what about the foolish bridesmaids? Why are they judged harshly? The problem of the foolish virgins is not sleepiness but something more fundamental. They were simply unprepared for the long haul. The shutting of the door is an indication of final judgment: there is no longer any way for them to get into the kingdom once the window of opportunity closes. This is an ominous reminder that life is decisive. On this side of death, we are given countless opportunities to repent, amend our ways, change the direction of our lives. But at death, the deal is done. At death, we can no longer rectify the mistakes of the past. We would have to live for eternity with the consequences of our life’s decisions.

It doesn’t take a genius to make out the symbolism of the various characters in the parable. The bridegroom is Jesus, the bride is the Church and the ten bridesmaids are representing the Christian members of the Church. But what about the oil? It is interesting to note that in Greek, the word for “oil” is a play on the word for “mercy.” Oil is what the Good Samaritan uses to heal the wounds of the man who was robbed by brigands. Oil was also used by Mary to anoint and consecrate our Lord, in preparation for His death and burial. St Augustine tells us that the oil represents “good work”. This explains the reason why the sensible bridesmaids could not share their extra oil with the foolish ones since good works are personal to each of us. We cannot be taking credit for someone else’s good works.

When this parable is read in the light of the entire gospel of St Matthew, the correspondence between the oil, light and good works becomes apparent. For example, in the Sermon on the Mount, our Lord compares good deeds to the light of a lamp that must “shine before others” (5:16). Later in the sermon, our Lord speaks about Christians who say, “Lord, Lord,” but who fails to do the will of the Father (7:21). Light is also mentioned in the first reading taken from the Book of Wisdom. It describes “wisdom is bright, and does not grow dim. By those who love her she is readily seen, and found by those who look for her.” The wisdom spoken of here is not just scientific or philosophical knowledge acquired by study and learning. Rather, it is the reflexion of God’s own Wisdom, the Wisdom by which God creates the world and guides humanity. So, a wise man is one who knows and does the will of God.

The parable thus urges the disciples to persevere in good works in accordance with God’s will. It is one thing to make a strong start in the Christian life, to believe in Jesus, commit oneself to a life of repentance, and to carry a torch for Christ, as did all ten bridesmaids. But this commitment must be sustained over time. There is a danger that any of us can grow tired of doing good. One’s enthusiasm for works of righteousness can run out. Disappointment can set in and we grow spiritually lazy.

That’s when the extra oil is necessary for the long run. The Christian journey is not a 100-metre dash. It’s a 1,000 km marathon. Sustaining our faith with prayer and the sacraments, persevering in spite of the odds, refuelling our fervour for Christ, are the things needed to get us past the finishing line. Only those who do so will be recognised by the bridegroom and welcomed into the nuptial celebration of the kingdom.

At the end of the day, the call to “stay awake” is not so much a call to wakefulness, to fight sleep, but rather a call to spiritual vigilance. One makes oneself ready for the Lord’s arrival by dutiful fulfilment of responsibilities. Failure to exercise diligence is dangerous in the spiritual life. The Christian life requires a life-long commitment and not just sporadic shows of piety. After all, no one knows the day or the hour when the bridegroom will come. But we can be certain of this: The night cannot last forever; the Bridegroom will return. Do not put your lamps away in a closet but have them on hand and lit. Prepare for that extra supply of oil because you can never have “too much” of it. Never tire to do good, even if the world says that it’s foolish and pointless to do so. “So stay awake, because you do not know either the day or the hour.”

Seek Wisdom not just Knowledge

Seventeenth Ordinary Sunday Year A

We are bombarded with information like never before, due to the internet. Research is made easy with Google search engine and Wikipedia. But the real setback and downside of this informational deluge is that we are unable to separate the wheat from the darnel, the true from the false. We have more information than we can ever process at our finger-tips, but little wisdom. In fact, wisdom can be shattered by too much information.

That begs the question, what is wisdom? In Greek, the New Testament word for wisdom is ‘Sophia’. To be wise to a Greek meant to understand a concept, to analyse something. That's not the word in Hebrew. The word in Hebrew is ‘chakam’. The concept of wisdom in the Old Testament is a form of practical knowledge – How do we make correct choices in life? Biblical wisdom is not simply factual knowledge or information. Neither is it some clever opinion. Rather, it is being able to see things as they really are and make the right decisions. Wisdom helps us to distinguish Truth from falsehood, the good from the bad. This was the kind of wisdom that King Solomon had asked for – the ability to grasp the mind of God, His Laws and to distinguish good from evil. Strangely, this is the same knowledge coveted by Adam and Eve, and which they attempted to steal from Eden. They failed to recognise that they already had this gift at their disposal. They only had to listen to God and trust Him. God would tell them what is good and what is evil. Such wisdom was God’s to give, not for them to steal.

The two parables in today’s gospel, the parable of the hidden treasure and the pearl of great price, give us several insights into Wisdom. First, the parables highlight the incomparable value of Wisdom. A single-hearted response is demanded of the one who finds the Kingdom of Heaven. Both protagonists didn’t haggle over price. They didn’t complain about the cost. On the contrary, they made their transactions joyfully, because what both men stood to gain was so tremendous that it made any cost, any sacrifice, insignificant in comparison. In the eyes of the world, their actions would have been regarded as foolishness. Only Wisdom would show that they had made the most significant investment of their lives.

Secondly, the parables teach us that Wisdom is never easily accessible. In both parables, the treasures are hidden, they are not easily accessible, they are sacred. In today’s society, the idea of mystery and ‘hiddenness’ is often associated with elitism. Most people demand accessibility. The problem is that accessibility is often mistaken for banality. In our effort to ensure accessibility to all and sundry, we have chosen to lower the bar that was set by our Lord Himself. Our catechism becomes dumbed-down, our liturgies are replaced with entertainment, our homilies become nothing more than stating the obvious.  On the contrary, our faith and worship seek to express the mystery of the holy and the eternal, and not just what is current and transitory. When a mystery becomes totally comprehensible, it ceases to be sacred. When a treasure is no longer hidden, it ceases to have value. Familiarity breeds contempt.

The parables also remind us that the most valuable thing in life demands sacrifice. Both of these parables involve men who had to make great sacrifices, selling everything that they had to obtain their treasures. Salvation comes at a heavy cost; it came at the cost of our Saviour’s life.  Unfortunately, our generation is a generation that wants everything easy. We want to enjoy all the blessings of the kingdom, but we don’t want to do anything, we don’t want to give anything, and we certainly don’t want to sacrifice anything. Even though great sacrifice is required, it is never a burden. Holy Wisdom will help us appreciate that the Kingdom is always a source of Joy. Notice the joy of the discovery, as well as the joy of parting with one’s possessions to acquire that treasure or the pearl of great price. These men do not just sell everything they have, but they do so with exuberant joy. There is no regret in their actions. Perhaps the real test of a disciple’s commitment is not so much whether he is willing to make sacrifices for our Lord, but whether he is able to make those sacrifices joyfully, without complaining.

Finally, Wisdom is not just a philosophical concept nor practical knowledge on how we should live our lives. In fact, Scriptures would eventually speak of wisdom as a personified attribute of God. Wisdom is a person. Christ Himself is the “power and wisdom of God” (1 Cor 1:24). Christ is the Perfection and the Incarnation of Wisdom. St Irenaeus reminds us that Christ himself “is the treasure hidden within Scriptures” and according to St Augustine, He is the pearl of great price. That is why for those who have discovered that He is their true treasure and the pearl of incomparable price, other things in this world cease to have value in their eyes. As St Paul puts it, “because of the supreme advantage of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, I count everything else as loss. For Him I have accepted the loss of all other things, and look on them all as filth if only I can gain Christ.” (Philippians 3:8)

Man is wisest when he turns to God

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

“So clever! So clever” so says the astute Fr Dominic. He is of course referring to how some people (priests included) are able to wrangle themselves out of work commitments by the flimsiest of excuses. What augments their “cleverness” is that they often push the buck to others, and poor Fr Dominic often ends up “covering” for them, which makes him lament his own condition, “So stupid! So stupid!”

The “cleverness” of the steward in today’s parable seems apparent and yet for us Christians, seem utterly disturbing and even scandalising. The steward who was called to account for having wasted his rich landlord’s property chooses fraud as the “clever” way out. He finds a way to extricate himself at the last minute from the mess – his clever and dubious calculations consist in ensuring that, when he loses his position, he will find refuge with those whom he had helped, those whose debts he had written off. We can imagine him congratulating himself, “So clever! So clever! I’m so clever!” Far from being inspiring, the behaviour of the steward may actually invoke disgust in many of us. But instead of cautioning His disciples to stay away from such unscrupulous behaviour, our Lord does the shocking and unthinkable; He commends the steward and offers him as a model for discipleship!

On the surface it looks like the Lord is extoling the dishonesty of the steward. Yet when we hear what follows we recognise that He is not using the dishonest servant to give the disciples an example to follow regarding dishonest wealth; rather, He is making a comparison and calling to greater commitment to discipleship.

He uses the parable and the character of the dishonest servant to demonstrate the great extent someone will go to, so that they may preserve their status or wealth or position. The dishonest servant goes to great effort, albeit dishonest and corrupt; to cover up his duplicity and greed, and thereby maintaining his job and ill-gained wealth. The dishonest servant, when he learns of his master’s intention, contemplates his situation, makes a plan then immediately acts to complete it. All this, just to maintain something that is not only ill gained but is fleeting and temporary. The point is, “bad” people are often “clever” people. Their cleverness helps them to see a goal and to go after it. Yet they are foiled because they are looking for something which is a pale imitation of the real good. Being clever isn’t clever enough if it brings us nowhere closer to our ultimate goal – eternal life and heaven.

Jesus uses the parable to have His disciples — that includes us — to reflect on the efforts we make not so much with wealth, position or status but the things that really matter in life. Survival was the driving force behind the servant’s life. For us, attaining salvation should be our primary motivation in every action, every decision, every planning and every enterprise of ours.

Being a good Christian does not mean that you have to be a bad manager, a bad worker, a poor student, or someone who “sucks” at managing your personal and worldly affairs. What Christians should learn from this dishonest steward is that their actions and decisions must be intentional and purposeful. Every action, deed, decision and word, should ultimately be geared towards winning a place in the “tents of eternity.”

The last four statements our Lord makes about money insist on trustworthiness in money matters even in the Church, for money entrusted to the Church for good purposes must be administered conscientiously. So it is not a case of 'God is good, money is bad'; in fact, not even of 'money is good, but God is better'. Rather, money is good, and God is the source of that goodness, the meaning and perfection of all goodness. That is why canon law stipulates that the temporal goods of the Church are to be used especially for the following in descending order: “the regulation of divine worship, the provision of fitting support for the clergy and other ministers, and the carrying out of works of the sacred apostolate and of charity, especially for the needy.”  

Yet money is tainted. Not in itself, but because of what we human beings have made of our world. We have made a world in which people can so easily become enslaved to money - to greed. Those who have enslaved themselves to money have thereby failed to put it to the good work for which it is intended, and instead drawn others into that terrible slavery. Even ministers of the Church have not been spared and thus today’s readings call us to practice good stewardship of the temporal goods of the Church. Ultimately, our Lord is giving us a powerful reminder: God and money cannot share dominion – where one is king, the other must become the subject. If God is king, then our material goods and possessions, money, ambition, cannot rule us. “No man can serve two masters……You cannot be slave both of God and money”. The Beatles, though hardly exemplary Christians, understood the wisdom of this when they sang, “I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love.”

To be “clever” is to be astute, and to be “astute” is to have foresight. Only fools do not see what’s coming and fail to plan and prepare for the eventuality of disaster. Foresight is the mark of wise discipleship. As the steward was forewarned that his service was about to be terminated, so are we forewarned that our death could come at any moment. A fool would think that “tomorrow” is guaranteed, he is deluded into thinking that he can live forever and so continues to waste every opportunity accorded to him to make amends of his life in order to avert the doom that comes with the Final Judgment. A fool aspires and plans for a more secure future, a better job, and more fulfilling relationships, yet he forgets that he can lose all these things in an instance. We should, therefore, wisely make decisions and plan not just for a better and more comfortable earthly life, but for the heavenly life which we hope for.

In the case of the crafty steward in the parable, he was able to come to his senses before the end. This too is a lesson that we Christians and others can and should learn. We may have started on a wrong footing, just like the shrewd and crafty steward, but this need not be how our story ends. Repentance can help us rewrite the end of the story, all our stories. The road to redemption is always open for passage before we arrive at the end of our journey. Once, we’ve come to the “dead end” of our lives, there will be no more chances to repent, no more openings to change direction, no further opportunities to make a U-Turn. But until then, God, in His Mercy, offers us countless opportunities to make amends and change the course of our lives – to choose the road that leads to salvation instead of perdition. The most intelligent thing an intelligent human being can do is to turn to God, not away from Him. Wise men still seek Him, wiser men find Him, and the wisest come to worship Him.