In the One we are one

Seventh Sunday of Easter Year C

Not even an hour had passed after his election as the supreme Roman Pontiff, and when his name was announced from the central loggia of the Basilica of St Peter, both Catholics and non-Catholics began trawling the internet to gather as much background information as possible on this dark horse candidate which no one seems to have predicted or mooted. Despite delving into past social media postings, quotations from recent speeches and homilies, reading perhaps too much into his words and papal attire, Pope Leo XIV remains an enigma. We can only speculate as to the future of his pontificate from what he had said or done in the past, but there should be humility in admitting that the jury is still out as to how he is going to steer the Church, the barque of St Peter. I am in agreement with one commentator that we should just let “Leo be Leo” instead of trying to shape his pontificate in “our image and likeness.”

A clue that can throw light on his fundamental theological and pastoral position is his motto: “in Illo uno unum,” which translates as “in the One we are one.” The phrase is paradoxically both simple and profound. It is taken from Saint Augustine's Exposition on Psalm 127, where the great doctor of the Church explains that “although we Christians are many, in the one Christ we are one.” Being an Augustinian priest before his elevation to the episcopacy, it is natural that this self-styled “son of Augustine” should adopt his motto from the Augustinian tradition.

The Rule of St Augustine to which Augustinians live under and are guided by, is really big about discovering God in community. Augustine believed that shared love of something always generated love of one another. Shared affinity sparks synergy which leads to unity. And that’s the meaning of Pope Leo XIV's motto: “in illo Uno unum” - in the One we are one. We're made one by loving the One. Someone noted: “Fans of the same team like each other. Music lovers normally get along well. And Christians should love Christ passionately enough that it translates into loving each other.” The members of the Church are supposed to get along because of the One we love in common. We all stand and fight under one big banner that flies above us as a standard and identity marker of who we are and what we stand for.

Perhaps, this is a most necessary corrective in an age where the Catholic Church seems threatened by factionalism, where we witness members who are fiercely individualistic and tribalistic, where Catholics most often than not identify themselves with commonly used political labels, whether on the left or the right or in the middle, rather than in the foundation of our common bond as Catholics.

Just in case you think that this is exclusively an Augustinian thing, our Lord reminds us in today’s gospel that this is fundamentally a Christian thing, indeed a most Catholic thing: “May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me.” We are one because our Lord wills it and because He and the Father (and the Holy Spirit) are one. The Church, the Christian communion, has a fundamentally Trinitarian structure and foundation. And the truth of the Most Holy Trinity, Unity in Diversity, is most evident when expressed in authentic community living.

In today’s Gospel, taken from the High Priestly prayer of Jesus at the Last Supper, our Lord prays for the whole world, asking that the love with which the Father had lavished upon Him might also be ours, and that through us the Father’s love might be evident to the world. That is what He died for. This prayer is not just empty rhetoric. The prayer puts into words the very mission of Jesus, the project of Jesus, that is to bring about the community of humanity in communion with the Most Holy Trinity. “Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but for those also who through their words will believe in me. May they all be one.” The Lord’s death on the cross, the gift of Himself to us, was the embodiment of these intercessions; and His resurrection embodied the Father’s answer to that prayer.

And so, the prayer of our great High Priest, that “all be one,” transcends time and space. This unity is not meant to be sustained by a long history of human endeavour. In fact, just like in the past, human endeavour to preserve unity had often proven inadequate and the weak members of the Body of Christ had been responsible for causing great divisions and injury to the unity intended by Christ. We are not the primary agents of the Church’s unity. No, the bonds of unity among the disciples of Christ must be built on a much stronger and studier foundation. The unity of God’s people can never be fabricated by man. It must be generated by the Spirit of God. True authentic unity in the Church is never achieved by sharing an ideology or personality. Our unity, our communion, can only be found in our love for God. In Him we are one. Christians are drawn to one another because they are drawn to a common centre, Jesus Christ Himself. For that is the source of the power of that unity. As long as we remain separated from Him or His will through wilful sin, as long as we insist on our way of doing things or our opinions are the only correct ones, we will never be able to arrive at that unity.

As we await Pentecost and the return of the Holy Spirit, let us as members of the Body of Christ, the Bride of Christ, call upon the Bridegroom to come, for we wish to be united with Him and through Him, with each other. At the Mass of the Initiation of his Petrine Ministry, Pope Leo XIV made an impassioned call to unity, but it is a unity not built on sharing one ideology or another, but on Christ. Let us continue to pray for him and the Church whom he leads as we heed his words: “Look to Christ! Come closer to him! Welcome His word that enlightens and consoles! Listen to His offer of love and become His one family: in the one Christ, we are one.”

God is the Author, man isn't

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fidelity not popularity

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

There is much talk these days about the spirit of Synodality, that the Synodal way is the way the Church must progress and move forward. One could simply describe it as the culture and attitude of different members of the Body of Christ walking together and attentively and effectively listening to each other. Most people would agree that it is a good thing to have more listening, to have ears closer to the ground, to the real issues and struggles of the people, to be able to empathise with the challenges and problems people are facing.

But there is also much disagreement as to what Synodality in practice entails. There is much misunderstanding as to what is the end game. Someone cynically gave this mischievous definition: “journeying together without a destination.” The concept begs the following questions: Is it a Parliament where people get to vote on critical issues including norms of morality and doctrine? Would sensus fidelium be reduced to public opinion where the position of the majority will rule the day? Is it all about brainstorming ideas and sentiments and then try to merge and synthesise these positions, even opposing ones, into a single all-inclusive corporate mission statement?

The answer to every one of these questions must be a clear and definite “no”! Synodality can never mean a popularity contest, neither can it entail blurring the lines between good and evil, truth and falsehood. The Church does not and cannot march along with the drumbeat of the world. We simply cannot subvert the Church and her scripture and tradition-based teachings, in order to please the world.

Certainly, we cannot ignore the world, and that’s why it’s a mistake to entrench ourselves in the past and enter into a time sealed cocoon, insulated from what is happening around us. However, we must never forget that we are in the world, but we are not of the world. This is what the readings today wish to emphasise. To be prophetic is not just being a contrarian, objecting to every mainstream opinion or dissenting with the establishment. To be truly prophetic means learning to live in the world while not being of the world. It is a call to be faithful to God’s Word while learning to communicate that Word to a world that lacks a vocabulary to understand. It is having our feet firmly planted on the ground but with our eyes constantly gazing heavenward. It is an amphibious existence.

In the first reading, we have the call of the prophet Ezekiel. This serves as a prelude to the gospel where our Lord Jesus likens the people’s reception of Him as how their ancestors treated the prophet. From the very beginning, God is laying out the difficult task and mission of the prophet. A prophet is not simply someone who foretells the future. The task of a prophet is to tell people how God sees things, for the prophet sees things as God sees them. This directness of vision is not always popular, for we don’t always like being told home truths about ourselves. The truth about ourselves is often unwelcomed, particularly when it involves criticism and demands change. But the ministry of the prophet is not dependent on the people’s reception or lack of it but rather on the call to be faithful to the mission which has been entrusted to him by God. As God tells Ezekiel: “Whether they listen or not, this set of rebels shall know there is a prophet among them.”

Our Lord in the gospel also reminds us that we should not expect a warm welcome from those who seem closest to us, especially when we choose to stand by the side of truth rather than along party or sectarian lines. As He so rightly pointed out: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.”

As much as we often measure the success of our efforts by the extent of their approval, this should never be our yardstick. When it comes to our Christian witnessing, fidelity and not popularity should be the benchmark. In fact, the more faithful we are to the cause of Christ and His message, the more opposition, ridicule and even persecution would we receive at the hands of our audience. This seems counterintuitive. We would be so much more motivated when we receive positive appraisal from others. But here’s the secret which St Paul shares with us in the second reading - God assures us: “My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.” It is for this reason that we can make our weaknesses our special boast and be content with all kinds of hardship because as St Paul rightly puts it: “For it is when I am weak that I am strong.”

Yes, we are called to a Synodal way in which we recognise that we are fellow companions on a journey. But it is a Synodal way that has a direction rather than listless wandering and an ever-changing goal post depending on the latest fads and mainstream opinions. Our direction is that whatever we do or say, our goal is to get to heaven and not settle for some transient earthly utopia that promises big things but delivers little.

We must be committed to a Synodal way that is not dictated by the complaints and erroneous ideas or sinful preferences of the unfaithful, but rather, a call to listen to and follow the Only One who matters, our Lord Jesus, no matter how unpopular His teachings may be. Synodality is a call to deeper fidelity and not a substitute for it. We must do what is pleasing to the Lord rather than seek external validation from our peers and contemporaries.

Yes, being Synodal means change, but not in the way of changing the gospel or the teachings of the Church to suit our every whim and fancy but rather to humbly acknowledge our sinfulness and undergo repentance and conversion that will lead us to a deeper and more challenging commitment to follow Christ. We must remember that our goal is not to sneak into heaven by the skin of our teeth, but to be transformed in Christ, even on earth. Yes, we must be transformed in Christ – and not into another rival of Christ. This is the ideal.

Finally, it is good to be guided by the wise words of St Ignatius of Antioch: “Our task is not one of producing persuasive propaganda; Christianity shows its greatness when it is hated by the world.”

Admonish the Sinner

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Minding our own business seems to be a useful thing, a most basic survival skill. We’ve been taught since young: if you see a fight, walk away. If you see trouble brewing or coming over the horizon, walk away. If you see your colleague engaging in something illegal, walk away. If you hear someone spewing lies and untruths, walk away. Tell yourself: “it’s not your fight. Just walk away!” As pragmatic as this piece of advice may sound, is this really what we are supposed to do? Yes, in the name of self-preservation, it may be the best option. But in the name of Christ and our moral duty to our neighbour, walking away betrays a lack of charity. As the old adage erroneously attributed to the Irish philosopher Edmund Burke goes, “The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing,”

Minding our own business or shirking our social responsibility is as old as Cain. When interrogated by God as to the whereabouts of his brother whom he had murdered, Cain’s answer has become a rallying cry of all those who sought to avoid sticking your nose into other people’s affairs: “am I my brother’s keeper?” This question is ludicrous since he was fully aware that he was responsible for his brother’s death. In the first reading, God gives this warning to Ezekiel: “If I say to a wicked man: Wicked wretch, you are to die, and you do not speak to warn the wicked man to renounce his ways, then he shall die for his sin, but I will hold you responsible for his death. If, however, you do warn a wicked man to renounce his ways and repent, and he does not repent, then he shall die for his sin, but you yourself will have saved your life.” In short, we would not be faulted if the other refuses to heed our warning but God would hold us accountable if we fail to issue that warning in the first place.

Our social responsibility to our neighbour is spelt out in the third spiritual work of mercy. It is one that few of us like to engage in: “admonish the sinner.” In fact, many today erroneously believe the opposite - that it is an act of mercy to bite our tongue and refrain from correcting others.

But our Lord in today’s Gospel passage lays down clear steps in engaging in fraternal correction. First, we do it privately instead of publicly. Something which is hard to do in an age of social media, public shaming and trolling. Second, if a private meeting fails to resolve the issue, bring in others for mediation. Lastly, if this still does not work, submit it to the adjudication of the community. When even this last step of reasoning and conciliation fails, that person should be treated like “a pagan or a tax collector.”

Many would construe this as a command to excommunicate the person. But let us consider how our Lord dealt with the pagans and tax collectors. He came to bring the gospel to them, heal them, reconcile and save them. Even should this last point be deemed a form of excommunication, the Church teaches that excommunication is not meant to be punitive but is regarded as an act of charity and a means of saving the soul of the person by demonstrating the eternal consequences of his action. Should a person die in mortal sin, he would be eternally separated from God. Excommunication gives a taste of this.

It is important to note that the Lord refers to the person as “your brother.” This highlights the fact that admonition is best done in the context of an established relationship. A person is much more likely to listen to a trusted friend or relative, rather than a street preacher holding a sign that says: “Repent! Sinners go to Hell!” While the message might be the same and true, it does not mean it will be effective. The question is not whether a billboard that says, “Hell is Real” is true (which it is); the question is, “what is the most effective method of ‘admonishing the sinner’ in the modern world?”

Saint Paul echoes these words when he writes, “If any one refuses to obey what we say in this letter, note that man, and have nothing to do with him, that he may be ashamed. Do not look on him as an enemy, but warn him as a brother” (2 Thessalonians 3:14). St Paul is reminding us that we need to look upon someone you admonish as a “brother” and not an “enemy.” Sometimes it is easy to see certain sinners inside and outside the Church as “enemies” and we make it our mission to “correct” them. We do not embark on our mission in a spirit of fraternal charity, but we do so as if we were going to war. To admonish the sinner is not to belittle or humiliate the person, but rather to alert him to the danger of a sinful course of action. It is rooted in love, not pride.

The obligation remains for us both to admonish sinners and to accept admonishment ourselves. So remember, to admonish the sinner begins by admonishing oneself. After all, we are all sinners. Humility is the virtue by which we recognise our sinfulness and our weakness, thus realising that we ourselves depend upon God's mercy to forgive us our sins and upon His grace to strengthen us to resist sin in the future.

To admonish others effectively, there are two other points we must keep in mind. First, we must practice what we preach. In other words, we have to be working at striving for holiness and avoiding sin in our own lives if we expect others to do the same. Our words have little value if we are perceived as hypocrites – not matching words to action. The second point is to avoid the terrible attitude of self-righteousness with its judgmental view of others. Self-righteousness puts a person into the mindset of the Pharisees who were quick to condemn sin in others but overlooked it in themselves. To carry out this work of admonishing the sinner, a person must have a sense of compassion for human weakness, and we can only learn that by recognising our own weaknesses. This requires humility and honesty.

We must remember that the goal is not to tell others how terrible they are; this is, after all, a work of mercy. Neither is the goal to win an argument or to feel superior. Rather, the goal is to win the sinner back from a destructive path, to announce the forgiveness of sins available to all who repent. The goal is salvation. Even greater than all our bodily needs, is the spiritual need to be set free from sin and receive the life of God. This is why admonishing the sinner is so important. To admonish sinners is to call lovingly to those in danger and draw them back from the edge of the abyss. To avoid doing this would only betray our real intention - we cannot bear the backlash that sometimes comes when we warn people who do not want to be warned. But if we yield to this fear, we are showing that we love ourselves too much and do not love God and others enough.

They heard ... They saw ... They spoke

Solemnity of Pentecost

Although the descent and gift of the Holy Spirit is commonly associated with today’s feast, which takes place 50 days after the feast of the Passover, St John in today’s gospel reading provides us with another version of the story. In John 20, the gift of the Holy Spirit takes place earlier, on the evening of Easter Sunday. The Risen Lord invites His disciples to carry on the mission given Him by His Heavenly Father and empowers them to do so by breathing upon them and saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

St Luke’s version of the first Pentecost, which we heard in the first reading, is the biblical account that has most captured the Christian imagination. Fifty days after Easter, the disciples of Jesus gather for prayer in Jerusalem. The Holy Spirit comes upon them in dramatic fashion, with a strong wind and “tongues of fire.” They begin to speak in different languages, and miraculously their proclamation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is heard and understood by Jewish pilgrims from different countries of the diaspora in their own native languages.

The revelation of the Holy Spirit to the Apostles on Pentecost took place in a series of sensible experiences: they heard… they saw … they spoke. First, they heard. They heard a sound from heaven as of a rushing mighty wind. This sound was so vast it filled the whole house. A sound that could only come from heaven. Next, they saw. They saw tongues as of fire, one sat on each of them. The fire of God’s presence was revealed. Finally, they spoke. As a result of the outpouring of God’s Spirit, His presence in such a distinctive way on each individual, they began to speak in languages known to those gathered outside.

These three movements could also be seen at the time of the Exodus when the Israelites were gathered at Mount Sinai and Moses received the Law directly from God. The account of this event is found in the first reading of the Vigil Mass. In fact, Pentecost or in Hebrew, Shavuot or the Feast of Weeks, commemorated this event. On this mountain, the Israelites heard the rumbling of thunder and saw the clouds covering the top of this holy mountain. Then God spoke His law which is embodied in the tablets of the commandments. But instead of hearing thunder, and seeing a cloudy theophany or hearing God speak His law, the apostles and first Christians heard, saw and spoke what was clearly the manifestation of the Holy Spirit, whose law is now written on the hearts of believers instead of stone.

But the correlation between the Jewish significance of this feast and its Christian counterpart goes back further, in fact to the beginning of the Bible. God breathed His Spirit into earthly clay, like how Jewish mystics would attempt to do in the legend of the Golem, and brought it to life. Likewise, God now breathes His Spirit upon this motley group of believers and brought the Church to life. Jesus, risen and ascended into Heaven, sent His Spirit to the Church so that every Christian might participate in his own divine life and become His valid witness in the world. The Holy Spirit, breaking into history, defeats aridity, opens hearts to hope, stimulates and fosters in us an interior maturity in our relationship with God and with our neighbour.

But there remains one final connexion between the Pentecost of the New Testament and another event in the Old Testament. The miracle of Pentecost reverses the episode of the Tower of Babel in Genesis 11. In that story of the tower, in response to human arrogance, God “confused” the languages of humankind and scattered them over the face of the earth. Instead, of hearing, seeing and speaking God’s Word present through His Spirit, the builders of the Tower of Babel were planning to have their own voices heard, their monumental feat seen and finally spoke in the languages which no longer could be understood nor did they communicate God’s Word. After Pentecost, the division of Babel wrought by man’s pride will be undone and the Good News of Jesus Christ is the language that unites all these different peoples.

The building of the first Babel was an act of pride. Like Adam and Eve, the builders didn’t want to receive from God; they wanted to obtain things on their own. They sought to construct a tower “with its top in the heavens” and to make a name for themselves, lest they be “scattered abroad upon the face of the whole earth.” They desired to raise themselves to God’s level – to be self-sufficient – and to establish unity on their own terms. The lesson of Babel is clear: it is human pride that has produced confusion and division in the world. God’s act in confusing their language and means of communication was not an act of vengeance and punishment. In fact, it was an act of mercy that would set them on a long journey to discover the true source of sanctification and unification - the work of the Holy Spirit.

According to Fr Paul Scalia, “we are witnessing the construction of a new Babel. Ours is a post-Christian society, an anti-culture that has rejected the Word of God. In our pride, we want on our own terms and by our own accomplishments what creatures can only receive from God. We have thrown off His reality – about gender, sex, life, etc. – and tried to construct our own. As a result, our language is increasingly disconnected from truth, our words unintelligible, and our ability to communicate crippled.”

The crippling of language divides us. We can easily witness this in our own country and parish situation, where language no longer unites but divides. Once language is no longer a vehicle for truth, for building communities and set apart for worship, it becomes an instrument for control and domination. That is why we can recognise that Pentecost is the undoing of Babel. The Apostles, filled with the Holy Spirit, speak in a way that all hearers can understand. Redeemed by the Word, man can now speak intelligibly about God and about himself. And because he can communicate the truth to others, this intelligibility leads to unity.

The memory of Jesus has been kept alive, and the movement He began has been carried on by the Church, who has preached the gospel to all nations and cultures through various languages. Nevertheless, Pentecost challenges the Church today to find even more effective ways of communicating the Gospel to peoples in every land on earth. The challenge, that faced the first Christians gathered in Jerusalem at the birth of the Church, still faces the Church today. Would culture and language be an obstacle to the gospel or would it be the vehicle by which the gospel is heard, seen and spoken? Would pride get in the way once again or docility to the Spirit bring about authentic conversion? For this reason, we need the help and guidance of the Holy Spirit. And so, on this Pentecost we must pray, “Come, Holy Spirit, come!”

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.

Persistence in Prayer

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

The Our Father prayer, which we usually pray at Mass or when reciting the rosary, comes from the Gospel of St Matthew. St Luke’s version is shorter and certainly more stark and direct in its wording. If St Matthew has his version of this prayer at the beginning of our Lord’s ministry while He was preaching the Sermon on the Mount, St Luke places the Lord’s Prayer about halfway through his Gospel. At this point, the Lord is on His journey to Jerusalem where He knows He will have to suffer before His mission can be accomplished. He has predicted His death twice. He has told His disciples that if they want to follow Him, they will have to suffer too. At this crucial point, a disciple asks our Lord to teach them how to pray. Our Lord then provides a catechesis on prayer.

“Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples.” This request raises a question. Why do John’s and Jesus’s disciples need to be taught to pray? Adult Jewish males were expected to pray morning, afternoon and evening in the direction of Jerusalem, three times a day and before and after meals. Like the Pharisees and scribes, John’s disciples fasted and prayed. The Lord’s disciples, on the other hand, had been criticised because they did not seem to be as fastidious in these pious practices.

One of the functions of having distinctive prayers was to create and maintain a sense of identity and community for members of a sect. At a certain point in the Gospel, our Lord’s disciples didn’t have to fast and pray because He was still among them. But now, the Lord is preparing them for the time when He will not be among them much longer. The community needs sustenance for the future, a foundation for their continued communal life, and such sustenance and the foundation of their bond would be found in prayer. Remember the Lord’s promise: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” (Matt. 18:19–20.) Christ will continue to remain with them whenever they prayed.

What was needed by the early Christian community to sustain them in times of crises, and inspire and empower them for mission, continues to be relevant to us today. In a world where groups try to build social cohesiveness through team building exercises and other forms of group dynamics, the Christian community’s need for prayer remains foundational. If we are only united in function and efficiency, then we cannot claim to be members of the Body of Christ. But if Christ is our inspiration and model, prayer must be the ultimate foundation of our bond. The Church without prayer, is as inconceivable as a Church without Christ.

After the Lord had given a helpful pattern for prayer, He turns immediately to one of the primary problems in prayer, a problem that will become obvious almost at once. God does not always answer upon our first request. Indeed, experience tells us that when we pray earnestly, sometimes nothing seems to happen. In response to this dilemma, our Lord calls for persistence in prayer. He calls for us to keep on praying even when it seems that nothing is happening.

The Lord uses a parable to illustrate this point. The scenario of the parable places it as an emergency request, made at a ridiculous hour to a reluctant neighbour. This is not because the Lord is comparing the reluctant neighbour to God. He is not suggesting that there is any reluctance in God to respond to our prayers. However, there are times that God does “appear” to be like the reluctant friend, especially when we don’t seem to get any answer. However, He is assuring us that if a reluctant friend will get up at midnight to respond to the persistent appeal of a friend, how more so will the God of love and mercy, hear our prayers and answer our request.

What the Lord has illustrated in the parable, He now sets forth in the precept. Our praying is to be marked by persistence. If the answer does not come at once, we are to keep on praying. If we do not find what we seek at once, we keep on seeking. If the door does not open to us at once, then we keep on knocking. We are to see progression in the use of ask, seek, knock. Everything in the person’s being is involved in an attempt to break through to the answer. No wonder many of our prayers go unanswered. So many give up after only a few feeble attempts. If we go on asking, seeking, and knocking, then we can be certain of results.

Does this mean, that if I persist in praying that I will get exactly that which I ask of God? I hope not. “No” is just as much an answer to prayer as “yes”. No wise parent always says “yes” to the requests of their child. Many of us have forgotten this time-tested piece of parenting wisdom, especially when we are constantly bombarded by incessant requests from an entitled generation. We imagine that if we give our children what they want whenever they ask for it, they will be finally satisfied and stop harassing us. The problem of a permissive culture is that it creates an entitled generation. As that iconic song from the Greatest Showman declares: it will never be enough! Never! Never! Ever!

Sometimes we need to say “no”' because the thing requested, is not really the thing needed. No amount of persistence will wear down a good parent if he knows the thing requested is not the right thing for his child. It took me a long time to grasp this truth because it is always easier to say “yes” to parishioners. Sometimes the proper and prudent thing to do is to say “wait”. The thing sought will be a good thing later, but the person is not ready or the timing is not right. The same could be said of God. But we can be certain that as we persist in prayer, that God is going to respond to the prayer. Our prayers will not be ignored. But for the moment, God’s answer is “wait!”

So, what is the value of waiting? What is the value of our persistence in prayer? Through prayer, daily life can become a classroom of communion. Through prayer, darkness can be dispelled and the path of progress illuminated. Through prayer, we can learn to die to self and to our insatiable sense of entitlement. Prayer does not change the mind of God, rather prayer changes us. Through prayer, we learn to conform to the Will of God and not demand that He confirms to our wishes. Through prayer, we are drawn by Love into a deepening relationship with Jesus, who died for us on the cross.

God holds nothing back from those whom He loves. He gives us the Holy Spirit, His life and grace. But most of all He wishes to give us the gift of salvation, the invitation to be with Him in Paradise forever. That is our real problem. It is not that our requests are too big for Him to grant but rather, we often ask too little. We ask for the pleasures of our earthly lives, we ask for good health and longevity, even though we know that one day our mortality will catch up with us. The Lord waits for us to ask the one thing which matters most – our salvation, Eternal Life. In prayer, we find the strength to pull ourselves up, after each fall. In prayer, we find the strength and the resolve to bear with our daily crosses. In prayer, we find our way after a life of asking and searching at the very gates of heaven, where our persistent knocking will finally bear fruit, where the answer to our deepest longings awaits us.   

May they all be One

Seventh Sunday of Easter Year C

I’m often asked if I have a KPI for my leaders, and my answer is “Yes. He or she has to be a unifier.” It would be good if I could have a skilful, talented and super-efficient leader who can multi-task, but I would rather live with mediocrity and even incompetency, than to have someone who ticks all the boxes but has a penchant for sowing discord in the community. If I had a second criterion for my leaders, what would it be? And my answer is “integrity.” A unifier without integrity would be an oxymoron. You can’t have unity at the price of forgoing truth and honesty; and you can’t truly speak of Truth, without wanting to deepen the bonds of unity.

William Wallace, the leading character in the movie “Braveheart” chastised his fellow Scots for allowing minor issues, internal strife, and power struggles to stand in the way of their fight for independence from the English. “We have beaten the English, but they’re back because you won’t stand together.” I feel that is what is happening far too often in the church.

Since last year, our Holy Father Pope Francis has been calling all of us to get on board his initiative of moving the Catholic Church on the path of Synodality. If you still haven’t heard of this, you must have been living in a bomb shelter or a Soviet era gulag in Siberia for the past year. The word “Synod” comes from two Greek root words which mean “common path” or more popularly translated as “journeying together.” This should be good news. We should be starting to see how unity within the Church is being strengthened by leaps and bounds with such a focused project and theme. And yet, sadly, it is quite the opposite.

What we witness today, is not a single global Catholic Church with all one billion of her members happily and willingly “journeying together,” but quite the opposite. Nobody can turn a blind eye to the fact that divisions you normally witness in secular political discourse, have now become staple within the Church. Catholics within the same sheepfold often demonise others across the ideological divide. The teachings of Vatican II are being denied and subverted in open contradiction to Vatican II by many Catholics, not only by ultra-traditionalists but also by those who hide behind the banner of being hard-line defenders of Vatican II.

And despite all the apparent enthusiasm proponents of Vatican II express for Pope Francis, they flatly deny the authority conferred on him by Christ, as the successor of Peter. They just agree with him because it is convenient to do so: they think he agrees with them. Call it theological projection: you see what you want to see when you are enclosed in an echo chamber. The moment the Pope takes a different position, they are most ready to throw him under the bus. On all fronts, there seems to be so many factors which are tearing at the Church’s fabric of unity and threatening permanent rupture.

Could our Lord have foreseen all these when He first composed this prayer to the Father? “Holy Father, I pray not only for these, but for those also who through their words will believe in me. May they all be one. Father, may they be one in us, as you are in me and I am in you, so that the world may believe it was you who sent me.” In Jesus' last words in the Gospel of John, in His dying wish expressed in His Priestly Prayer to the Father, He asks that we may all be ONE as the Holy Trinity is ONE. The unity of the Church should reflect the unity of the Father and the Son. Our unity is our most evident proof of the Truth about the Lord’s identity and mission.

When the Church is divided by conflict, we not only hurt our witness in the world, but we also cast doubts on the Lord’s identity and mission. If many continue to reject that our Lord is the only begotten Son of the Father, sent into the world to save us by His death, we have only our poor witness to blame. Our internal fights and disagreements make our words and testimony weak and unbelievable. Our disunity is doing the work and mission of Christ a disservice.

Our Lord must have understood that disagreements are very much part of the fabric of relationships and community living. That is why He prayed for unity just before His own death and why when He returned to His disciples after His Resurrection, the first gift He conferred upon this community is the Holy Spirit tied with the authority to forgive sins. This is at the heart of the Sacrament of Penance.

It is clear that unity within the Church is not just conformity or affability among her members. To be one is not the absence of opinions. Opinions are healthy. But since we can hold differing opinions, our unity must go beyond just mere good intentions and platitudes. Unity in the Church consists in the visible incorporation into the body of Christ (Creed, Code and Cult - doctrinal, sacramental, ecclesiastical-hierarchical communion) as well as in the union of the heart, i.e. in the Holy Spirit. Without these visible and invisible bonds, any man-made unity remains tenuous and susceptible to fraction. This is the reason why this visible communion with the Church (that we are in agreement with the teachings, the disciplines and liturgical tradition of the Church) must be a prerequisite for us receiving Holy Communion. We RECEIVE Communion only because we are IN Communion.

Finally, truth, not the threat of violence, holds our Lord’s sheepfold together. “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father, but by me.” (Jn. 14:6) Living His truth does not enslave, it liberates: “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” (Jn. 8:32) The freedom of love does not come with mere compliance. It comes with the realisation that truth, liberty, and God’s commandments are inseparable: “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (Jn. 14:15) Because of its foundation in truth, Christian Unity is not populism. Unity cannot be manufactured by our efforts to accommodate, to compromise, to get along and fit in—and then, feel good about it. We cannot put unity above truth because it seems more comfortable to do that.

Unity is not just a public-relations exercise for public consumption. It is a call to conversion and repentance. If sin, whether in the form of envy, selfishness, pride, hostility, prejudice, resentment, is what divides us, then only repentance and conversion can lead us back to authentic unity. In a world which is fractured and polarised along ideological, sectarian and ethnic lines, the Church provides us with a radical model of community, which transcends such distinctions and divisions. So, let us not just pay lip service to unity. Let us constantly and fervently pray for it, work at it and allow ourselves to be transformed, so that we may be fruits of our Lord’s dying wish and prayer: “May they all be one.”

God is Relational

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity 2021

Let me start in treacherous territory. It’s already mind-boggling attempting to understand the concept of the Trinity, One God in three persons, what more explain it. If you are not already familiar with this, there is also the concept or belief in the three goddesses in neo-pagan religions like Wicca, often depicted as the Maiden, the Mother and the Crone, or the Hag. Each of these characters are said to be non-distinct aspects of one divine reality and they basically correspond to three life stages of a female. In other words, the Maiden is the Mother and the Crone, except, in three different stages of her life as she ages.

The point I’m trying to make here is not to suggest that the Christian belief in the Most Holy Trinity is not an original idea or even a cultural appropriation of some pre-Christian religious tradition, but quite the opposite. The dogma of the Most Holy Trinity is distinctly unique. It proposes not just a schizophrenic God with multiple personality disorder or different forms or modes of one Being, or one who likes to play different characters to make life more colourful, but that God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, though not three gods but one, are each distinctively unique, which is why we use the word “persons” to refer to each of them.

This is what a relationship is fundamentally about, a connexion made between “persons,” at least two are needed. I’m not trying to diminish the fact that some people do describe themselves as having a relationship with a myriad of things or objects. For example, I know that many enjoy indulging in mental conversations with themselves, provided that they are aware that the voice in their head is actually they thinking aloud and not some distinct imaginary person. Likewise, there are those who have meaningful conversations with their pets, or their favourite plant or furniture. As much as one could try to stretch the meaning of the word “relationship” to cover all these, as woke culture is so fond of doing, we have to face the reality that nothing can come close to an authentic relationship between real persons.

The fact that God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit are persons, tells us that they are authentically relational. God is not just an impersonal principle like a force in nature. The fact that our God is a personal God means that He is a relational God; first in Himself, possessing and capable of a dynamic relationship between the three distinct persons of the Most Holy Trinity, as well as with the rest of His creation, with us in particular because man (and woman) are made in His image and likeness, are the only creatures apart from the angels, who possess distinct personhood which makes each of us unique, irreplaceable, and relatable.

The fact that they are three distinct Persons, not being identical in personality, like clones, nor are they merely phases in the development of man’s understanding of God, nor are they God putting on different masks at different times to appear more relatable to us at a particular moment in time, is a fundamental truth to our faith. The Church has unequivocally rejected any of these alternative explanations and labelled them heresies. No. Though there is only one God, and the Father is God, the Son is God and the Holy Spirit is God, the Father is not the Son, the Son is not the Spirit, the Spirit is not the Father. The fact that there are 3 distinct persons in the Trinity, is a key foundational truth. And yet we profess and believe that there is only one God. That too is another foundational truth.

So, we see the uniqueness of the Christian faith. We defer from strict monotheistic religions which reject any differentiation of persons in the one God. We also reject the premise adopted by polytheistic religions which argue that there are more than one God. And of course, our belief stands against those religions which have a modalistic view of God, that the one God appears in different forms or different modes, but each mode is fundamentally just another form of the same God.

They are not only 3 distinct persons, but each person of the Godhead is intimately involved with the Christian!  The dogma of the Most Holy Trinity is not just some lofty philosophical concept or irrelevant dogma but one which goes to the very heart of our identity as persons, made in God’s image and likeness, made to love, to care and to relate with others.

This is what we see in the second reading which is taken from Saint Paul’s letter to the Romans. He does not provide us with a theological explanation of how the Father, the Son and the Spirit are related to each other but a statement about how they work together in unison and in harmony in every Christian. The Trinitarian connexion reaches out, connects and enfolds. In baptism, we share in the death of the Lord Jesus and we receive the gift of the Spirit which makes us children of God, and allows us to call God Himself, “Abba, Father”.  Saint Paul elaborates on this saying: “And if we are children we are heirs as well, heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, sharing His sufferings so as to share His glory.”

So, what does this teach us about human relationships? The first thing is that people need other people. In other words, humans were made to live within community and to have meaningful love relationships with other humans. Why do we know this? Because we are made in God’s image and God has existed for eternity within a love relationship between the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. God has existed within the community of the Godhead for eternity and since we are made in His image, it should not be a surprise that humans are made to need community.

The Trinity also teaches us that the diversity of roles in any relationship is good. In fact, when our uniqueness as distinct persons are erased in the name of conformity, relationships cease to have value. Members of any human community are not products of assembly lines. Therefore, it is important to preserve and promote the various roles, charisms and parts we play in any human relationship, whether it be in a friendship, a marriage, a family or even in the Church. When gender differences are removed, hierarchical structures within the family or the Church are flattened, we end up with a distorted and revisionist vision of God’s plan. We can see from the Trinity that roles in relationships do not devalue one person over the other. There are different roles in human relationships because there are different roles in the Trinity.

In the gospel passage, in this last scene of our Lord’s climatic commissioning of His Apostles to make disciples of all the nations, to baptise them in the name of the Most Holy Trinity and to teach them to observe all His commands, we are reminded that we are sent by Christ on a mission, on a journey of love, on a pilgrimage to God, the Most Holy Trinity. We do so not as individuals, but as persons called into the Mystical Body of Christ, to be part of the communion of saints, so that through our words and deeds, we can testify that the Lord is with us always, “yes, to the end of time.” And, where Christ is present, the Father and the Holy Spirit are present too, for though each is distinct, they are inseparable.