Not Born but Intentional Catholics

Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

One of the common self-descriptions you would hear from a Catholic, and only from Catholics, is this: “I’m born Catholic.” That is not entirely accurate, which is to say it is a false statement. No one is “born Catholic.” Through baptism, we all “become” Catholic. We are not exactly “natural” sons of God, but “adopted” sons, as St Paul teaches. The only “born” Catholic was Christ. It may be more accurate, therefore, to describe the person as a “cradle Catholic” rather than “born Catholic.” But often the term has come to describe a prevalent condition which many Catholics possess or suffer - we are Catholics not by our own choice, not intentionally, but often only nominally, that is in name.

Borrowing an idea from the Protestants, Catholic author, Sherry Weddell, wrote a book entitled “Forming Intentional Disciples” to propose a solution to this malady by fostering a culture among Catholics to consciously and intentionally see themselves as disciples of Jesus Christ and to follow and imitate Him by being His messengers to the world. Before I share some salient points from her book, I believe our readings for today provide us with an excellent template for becoming intentional Catholics. The dynamics of the three readings could be simply stated as this: we are called, we are chosen and we are sent.

The first reading speaks of the call of the prophet Amos. Here was a prophet that was sent by God to a foreign nation that needed him but did not want him. The reading begins with Amaziah, the priest of Bethel in the north, practically shooing off Amos and telling him to go back to where he came from, which is the South, Amos’ homeland, and to do his prophesying there. The irony of this encounter is that Amos too expresses his true feelings about his ministry, something which he had not bargained for nor had he personally preferred: ‘I was no prophet, neither did I belong to any of the brotherhoods of prophets,’ Amos replied to Amaziah ‘I was a shepherd, and looked after sycamores: but it was the Lord who took me from herding the flock, and the Lord who said, “Go, prophesy to my people Israel.”’

Just like Amos, most of us have no sense of being called. We would have preferred being left alone to our devices, going about our own business and doing what we have to do to earn our living and get along in life. But being called means that each of us is given a mission beyond what we would have personally desired or chosen. By our baptism, each of us is called to be priest, king and prophet. We are called to be priests because we are called to intercede for others. We are called to be kings because we are called to serve others. We are called to be prophets because the Word of God must be proclaimed by us.

This begs the question: “why me?” If you’ve paid attention to the readings for the past few Sundays, that it’s never about you. God chooses us not because we are qualified, or naturally gifted or because we are worthy. Quite often He chooses those who are not. This is what St Paul tells us in the second reading: “Before the world was made, He chose us, chose us in Christ, to be holy and spotless, and to live through love in His presence, determining that we should become His adopted sons, through Jesus Christ for His own kind purposes, to make us praise the glory of His grace …” That’s it! We are called, we have been chosen. Why? For God’s glory, for the praise of His glory. Not for our glory or because we have merited His attention, so, don’t get swollen headed!

And finally, we have the Gospel where we hear how the Lord sends out the Twelve apostles on a mission. They are called. They are chosen. They are sent out. They are given a mission. They are asked to take nothing along with them because that too is part of their witness. If they are going to lead people to have faith in God, it must start with them. But the call, the choosing and the sending is not just confined to the Twelve. How much easier for us if God only chose the Twelve Apostles and not us! How much easier for us if only the pope, the bishops, the priests and the religious must have responsibilities for preaching and spreading the Word of God and the joy of His Church!

So, knowing that we have been called, chosen and sent, is only the first step. How do we now make the response? I’m going to return to Sherry Weddell’s book and borrow some of her thoughts on this matter. She proposes 5 simple steps.

Step 1 is initial trust. Just like Amos, we must trust the Lord’s call and His mission even if it means getting out of our comfort zones. The greatest obstacle to being an intentional disciple of the Lord is to be contented with what is convenient and secure. Like the apostles in the gospel, we must gradually learn to let go of our crutches - material and emotional- and begin to learn to trust God more each day. If God has called us to this mission, He will provide us with the wisdom, the tools and resources to carry out His will.

The next step is spiritual curiosity. As Weddell says, “When we live lives that are inexplicable apart from the grace and power of the Gospel, we will often find that curiosity is sparked among people who were formerly hostile to the Faith. To be a witness does not consist in engaging propaganda, nor even in stirring people up, but in being a living mystery. It means to live in such a way that one’s life would not make sense if God did not exist.”

The third step after trust has been given, curiosity aroused, it is time to challenge our listeners. Often, we tip toe around difficult subjects and try to soften the demands of Christ. But without this challenge, Christians will remain infants, perpetually “born Catholics” or “infantile Catholics”, who are unable to make a breakthrough in their spiritual growth.

All the previous steps will lead to the fourth step - spiritual seeking. Here, the seeker is abandoning the false notion that God stands in the way of freedom and happiness, and realising that God is the good he or she has sought all his life in his pursuit of the shadows and copies of beauty that are mere earthly beauties.

So, how does one live the Catholic faith in the real world? It is certainly not enough to be “born Catholic” or even to be a “cradle Catholic.” These labels mean nothing unless we are intentional about it. Our lives cannot just be dictated by doing the bare minimum, even though many cradle Catholics these days don’t even do the bare minimum like observing the precepts of the Church – attending Mass every Sunday and holy days of obligation, making confession at least once a year etc. We must be consciously aware that we are called, we are chosen and we are sent. Today we are invited, each one of us, to recognise our own calling and to seek to know what God asks of us in order to spread the Good News of the Kingdom. Let us open our hearts and our minds in faith. No more excuses. No more delays. Time to get out of our cradles and be rock solid intentional disciples of the Lord!

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.”

There can be no Christmas without Mary

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year B

When most people are asked, when does the Church commemorate this momentous event in salvation history where the Uncreated Word became flesh, the most common answer would be: “Christmas!” Christmas is the feast of the Incarnation. But I guess most people, especially in this day and age when abortion is widely promoted in many countries, we have forgotten that life does not begin at birth but at the conception of a person. One could choose to deny this on ideological grounds because it is inconvenient and challenges our selfish motives, but this truth is irrefutable when we witness a convergence of biology and theology which affirms this truth.

So, on this last Sunday of Advent, and in fact for this year at least, the last day of Advent, before we transition into the Christmas cycle this evening, the Church’s lectionary provides us with this beautiful gospel passage which narrates the Annunciation of the Archangel Gabriel to the Blessed Virgin Mother of our Lord Jesus Christ. The connexion between these two events - the moment of conception and the moment of birth - could not be made any clearer with the juxtaposition of these two events. The Feast of the Annunciation which the Church celebrates on the 25th of March is as much the Feast of the Incarnation as it could be said of Christmas.

A cursory reading of both the first reading and the gospel will let you see how the prophecy of Nathan to King David in the Old Testament that his house and sovereignty will always stand secure and his throne be established for ever, is being fulfilled in the story of the Annunciation, as explained by the Archangel Gabriel: “The Lord God will give him the throne of his ancestor David; he will rule over the House of Jacob for ever and his reign will have no end.”

In Hebrew, there is no specific word for a king’s palace or the Temple of God. The palace of the king is simply described as the King’s house as the temple is God’s house. So, the idea of “house” is deliberately ambiguous when spoken in reference to David as it could refer to both the dynastic line of David or to the palace in which he lives. Furthermore, in the first reading we see an ironic reversal in that God promises to establish a house for David even as David promises to build a house for God, an offer which God declines. David, ashamed that he was now living in an opulent “house,” would not allow God to suffer the humiliation of occupying a nomad’s tent. He thought to honour God by building God a house fitting for His glory and dignity. But God reminds David that since God has provided the latter with all the essentials of accommodation, God Himself is in no need of a human dwelling. No human hands can build a house that is ultimately suitable for God save for one that is built by God Himself. Even King David acknowledges this in Psalm 127: “unless the LORD builds the house, those who build it labour in vain.”

Mary is indeed the house of God, not built by human hands but shaped and created by God Himself. Our Eastern brethren pays her the greatest honour by describing her as the one “made more spacious than the heavens” or in Greek, “Playtera ton ouranon.” The Universe we know about is mind-bogglingly big. Yet, we recognise that God is far greater than that. The universe, for all its vastness, remains finite. God, on the other hand, is infinite! But here is the great mystery we celebrate today – God who could not be contained in His created universe chose to be contained in the tiny womb of this human being. Thus, we call Our Lady “more Spacious than the Heavens” because she held in her womb Him who holds the whole universe. She succeeds where the whole universe fails.

The veil which separated the Holy of Holies from the rest of the Temple Complex was embroidered with symbols of the cosmos, in a way indicating that the temple was a microcosm of the universe, the house of God. When the veil was torn in two on Good Friday at our Lord’s death, it was symbolically the end of the cosmos as we know it. During the time of our Lord’s birth, the temple was already an empty husk, the ark of the covenant, the throne of God, had already been lost during the Babylonian invasion and the first destruction of the Temple. Furthermore, in the mystical vision of the prophet Ezekiel, the shekinah, or God’s visible glory, had already departed. But here, we see the glory of God, the Holy Spirit and the power of the Most High will once again overshadow the “house” of God, not the Temple but Mary - she who is the ark of the new covenant, she who is more spacious than the universe.

So, on the eve of the day we commemorate how the Author and Creator of the Universe entered into our created universe as a child, it is fitting that the Church reminds us of how this happened. It was not by accident, nor is the instrument by which this occurred insignificant. Without Mary’s fiat to the Archangel Gabriel, we would not be celebrating Christmas. There is no Christmas without Mary.

Mary is indeed a cosmos to herself with Christ as its solar centre. Mary is indispensable to the story of salvation and the story of Christmas because without her, Christ’s birth could not have taken place. The pre-existent Word could not have become flesh if not for her fiat. Christ could not have been born without her free consent. The Mother of God, she who is “made more spacious than the heavens,” stands between the heavens and the earth and serves as a bridge between. Let us therefore ascend to the heavenly heights and enter into the Holy of Holies. Let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, the Heavenly Jerusalem, for Our Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the true House of God has already bridged what was previously impassable. Through her co-mediation, she has allowed us to approach what was previously unapproachable and to comprehend what was previously incomprehensible. Let us take her hand as she leads us to the manger and beyond to the cross.

You will not be disappointed

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Expectations are hard to live up to. One moment you are feted as a hero, the next as a “zero,” a total let down, when you don’t meet up to the initial expectations of others. The tag line emerging from the latest addition to the Spider-Man franchise has this quote from MJ, the love interest of the current incarnation of the eponymous protagonist, “if you expect disappointment, then you can never really get disappointed.” Cynical sounding, but let’s be honest - it has a certain ring of truth to it. As the new Parish Priest, I seem to have adopted this cautious approach, fearing that my initial warm welcome would soon expire once parishioners realise that I’m not the solution to their problems nor hardly the “hero” they had been expecting. In fact, I may turn out to be their greatest fear and regret. Well, let’s see as the drama unfolds.

This was the fate of our Lord. Today’s episode shows that the judgment of public opinion at best is fickle, at worst tyrannical. This passage follows immediately from last week’s episode where our Lord, after reading the passage from the Book of Isaiah, was treated like the local hero. They marvelled at the wonderful things He said among them. They were beaming with pride as He was one of their own. He spoke with such eloquence and graciousness that this “won the approval of all.” He told them that the words of hope they treasured in the Scripture, were being fulfilled in their hearing. Everything was going well, until our Lord began to challenge their expectations, perception and belief system.

Our Lord takes up the attitude and role of a prophet and in so doing, begins to provoke His listeners. He ‘judgmentally’ tells His audience that His prophetic words will not be accepted or recognised “in his own country”, citing two examples of great prophets in the Old Testament who were also rejected by their own people. When the Lord shifted the tone of His sermon, the crowd’s response also moved from hospitality to hostility. We might well think the Lord was imprudent in the way He provoked His audience. It is always wise to look for allies rather than make enemies. Yet, later Christian teaching and preaching will imitate His method. The martyrs and confessors of the Church had to pay the price for it. One can tiptoe diplomatically around the sensitivities of others only for a short time before it leads to the point where one has to jump feet first into truth-telling.

This Gospel is like a microcosm of the whole story. How often this same pattern reoccurs in the life of Jesus – that people follow Him and then go off in a different direction when things don’t suit their agenda, when the Gospel He preaches is no longer “nice” but has a sharp painful sting to it with a big price tag. There is no problem when you tell people what they want to hear. The man whose message is ‘repent’ sets himself against his age, and will be battered mercilessly by the age whose moral tone he challenges. There is but one end for such a man…either rejection or death!

To be prophetic is to call sin, sin. It is to say, without apology or reservation, “The Lord says ...” and sometimes, He says things which are not very comforting or pleasing to the ear, especially when He is confronting our sinfulness. He did so, not because He was intentionally mean and wanted to hurt His listeners. Truth can often sound unmerciful, unkind and rather cold. But St Paul was right in the second reading. The prophet is motivated by love, never by spite. Love doesn’t seek to hide the truth. Love doesn’t lie. We often tell “white lies”, lies which are for the intention of keeping the peace and maintaining good relationships with others, not because we love that person but out of self-preservation.

Today’s Gospel also challenges my vocation as a priest. Being configured to Christ, which means, being called to become more and more like Christ, I find this aspect of my priestly ministry most demanding. As a human person, I would certainly wish to be liked or even loved by all. But a priest friend once told me that the job of a Parish Priest is not to be liked but to be hated. He means that if a priest is doing his job, and doing it right, there are bound to be people who would disagree with him or eventually hate him. Bishop Emeritus Anthony Selvanayagam once shared how the legendary late Monsignor Aloysius gave him this piece of advice, “A bishop must have the wisdom of Solomon, the patience of Job and the hide of a rhinoceros.” No wonder we have so few bishops and God forbid if any of us priest ever got chosen to be one.

The truth is that whether it be a bishop, a priest, or a parent, or just an ordinary Christian, our job is not to be popular. Our job is to be faithful and that’s the hardest part of our calling because being faithful earns you enemies. If you have no enemies, it means that you have no principles. My priest friend also gave me this quote which has been attributed to Winston Churchill, “You have enemies? Good. That means you've stood up for something, sometime in your life.” The litmus test of a true Christian is best measured not by how many bouquets that have been pinned on him, but rather by how many brickbats that have been pitched at him. Prophets have been on the receiving end of mud more than medals. Popularity has killed more prophets than persecution.

The prophet’s calling is lonely, sometimes discouraging and usually misunderstood. People will either run from a prophet or try to destroy him – only the remnant minority receives the prophet and his message with gladness. But remember this - the only reason a true prophet speaks is because he is compelled by God and moved by Love, a love that “takes no pleasure in other people’s sins but delights in the truth.” The prophet may not be perfect. He often isn’t. He too is broken by sin but he desires God’s people to experience God’s best and experience what he has experienced – forgiveness and mercy at the point of repentance. And if we doubt whether we would have the gumption or the “hide of a rhinoceros” to do the job, let us be reminded that we have something far greater – the promise of the Lord to make us into “a fortified city, a pillar of iron, and a wall of bronze to confront all.” Our Lord will not disappoint us, so it’s okay to have this high expectation of Him. He assures you: “They will fight against you but shall not overcome you, for I am with you to deliver you – it is the Lord who speaks!”

God's Faithful Messengers, not Public Relations Officers

Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Our Lord wins admiration throughout the land except in His own town. You would expect that His fellow townsfolk would be exhilarated and would have given Him a hero’s welcome to fete His accomplishments and fame, the very fame that had made His hometown famous - He’s not just Jesus but Jesus of “Nazareth”. The small insignificant town could never have made it into the big leagues without the help of their most celebrated son. But instead, He encounters failure and rejection. Saint Mark poignantly notes: “And they would not accept him.”

That Sabbath, as was His custom in other towns, our Lord begins to teach in the synagogue. His townspeople were “astonished” when they heard Him but their astonishment was not one of admiration as in the other places. Here, it took the form of incredulity. In their minds, our Lord was just “one of the guys”, nothing extraordinary about Him, in fact their familiarity with Him and His family led to a sort of contempt. Their disdain for Him even suggests that our Lord was only fit for the carpenter’s job, that He had been associated with. He could not amount to anything more. And so, they asked, “Where did the man get all this? What is this wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him?” These questions did not reveal a sincere search for the truth but rather betrayed their indignant scepticism.

The result of their incredulity seemed to have impacted our Lord’s power. But it is not that our Lord lost the power to perform miracles in their midst. Their lack of faith was the real problem and the obstacle. It would have prevented them from seeking out the Lord to ask for a favour. If they have a roof to mend or a furniture to make, then the obvious choice was to look for Jesus, the carpenter, the Son of Mary. But if they were looking for a miracle, Jesus would be the last candidate on the list. If they are always looking out for the faults and shortfalls of the other, they will be prevented from recognising the action of God even if this was to take place before their eyes.

What are some lessons which we can take away from this disturbing story, a story which seemed to show up the powerlessness of our Lord?

First, our Lord shows us that it is okay to fail but it is not okay to give up. The fact is, every wonderful invention, every widely held positive belief turned into positive action, is the direct result of someone who did not give up. It’s also a fact that you’re going to fail once in a while, no matter how hard you try not to fail. Everybody fails. Yes, everybody, including our Lord in His hometown. The important thing is how you respond to your failure. Our Lord refused to be beaten, to be cowed into submission, to be discouraged and pushed back to His old life, a carpenter living in anonymity. He understood that what seems to be failure, may actually be victory and success. This is what happened at the cross.

Second, our Lord shows us that the true measure of success is not public approval, it has nothing to do with what people think of you. If everyone of us allows other’s opinion to shape us, we will no longer have any firm bearing or direction. Our Lord’s life shows us that the true measure of our worth, is not determined by success or public opinion but by our fidelity to the Father’s Will. We should only be concerned with doing the Father’s Will, even if that means receiving mockery, rejection and opposition from others, including our loved ones and closest friends.

Third, the story teaches us that knowing something about someone does not mean we know everything about the person. How often have we been guilty of sizing up someone, putting them into a box, dismissing their potential and drawing lasting conclusions about their true worth? Let us be honest. Many of us have done that, and repeatedly still do it. Dismissing someone whom we do not like may have dire consequences. We could be turning our back on God who is using this person to speak to us.

At baptism, you have received a share in the triple munera of Christ as priest, prophet and king. A priest is meant to worship, a prophet is meant to speak and a king is meant to lead. When we abdicate these roles in our daily lives, we are turning our backs on our baptismal identity and the call of Christ to be His representatives on earth. Admittedly, being a prophet and to live and speak prophetically is never easy. To stand against the world of denial is an extremely lonely occupation and it leaves many isolated from society and without honour in their own family. But remember - a prophet is only despised in his own country. Christ, possibly more than any other prophet, knew this. And it is in Him that we would find our model and inspiration. A prophet doesn’t take his cue or directions from his audience. He takes it from God.

In Christ’s life, we come to learn that it is okay to fail, but not okay to give up; that the true measure of success in our vocation is not public acceptance but fidelity to God’s plans; and finally, that we should never be too quick and arrogant to boast of our knowledge, for when we are so conditioned and limited by what we think we know, we will never be truly open to what God wishes to reveal to us. At the end of the day, we are called to be God’s faithful messengers, and not the public relations spokesmen with a human agenda.

God is speaking but are you listening?

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

For those who complain that God isn’t speaking to them - and I’m not referring to the delusional types who hear voices inside their heads - this Sunday’s readings remind us that God is always speaking, but the real issue is this - are we really listening? God’s Word is contained in sacred scripture and sacred tradition. How many of us take the trouble to put aside some time every day to study it, to meditate upon it and to apply its message to our lives? And I don’t mean to shame you to take out your Bible or your Catechism and read a few paragraphs today. I will be happy if you could do it every day.

Since technology has given us more ways to communicate than ever before, social media which makes information (and disinformation) readily available, state-of-the-art equipment to amplify sound and to listen to our favourite music or podcast, there are very few excuses for us to be “disconnected” or “out of touch.” More often, if we don’t hear what someone is saying, it’s because we don’t want to hear it. It’s called selective hearing. Whether it’s ignoring emails, screening phone calls and texts, staring at the screens of our devices while someone else is talking, or simply putting headphones in and cutting ourselves off from the world – we all practice selective hearing, even when we know we shouldn’t.

And it’s not a new phenomenon – Israel, in Samuel’s time, had a severe case of hearing deficit. It wasn’t that God wasn’t speaking; they still had the Law given to Moses to provide them with guidance, but neither those tasked with preaching it nor those tasked with listening were doing their job. Take for example the sons of Eli, Hophni and Phineas, who were all anointed priests of the Lord. Instead of preaching and teaching God’s Word to the people of Israel – as they were called to do – his sons were notorious for stealing from the portion of sacrificial offerings offered to God and for sleeping with the women who served at the tabernacle. But the most egregious sin was their refusal to listen to anyone who tried to correct their sinful ways.

As a result of the obstinacy of the religious leadership, God decided to give them the silent treatment. Since Israel had stopped listening, so God stopped speaking. That’s what it means when it says, in those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions. God wanted to speak to His people, to lead them, discipline them, forgive them, comfort them but because they refused to listen to Him, God refused to speak. It was the worst judgment possible.

And so enters Samuel, who is apprenticing with Eli his mentor. God calls Samuel to replace these hopeless ministers who have stopped listening to His Word. There is only one simple criteria – he must be willing to LISTEN, put it into practice and communicate it faithfully.

We turn to the gospel as we see the Word Incarnate finally emerging and the various peoples responding to His Word by learning to listen. We have the Baptist’s disciples listening to their master as he identifies Jesus as the Lamb of God and then they decide to follow up with their own investigation. They heard and heeded our Lord’s invitation to “Come and See” and was transformed by that encounter. Now having heard and encountered the Word personally, and not just come to know of Him by hearsay, they began to share the Word with others. We see this ripple effect finally reaching Simon Peter. His brother Andrew comes and shares his experience and thereafter took Peter to meet the Lord. Peter’s name serves as an apt conclusion to this whole episode. Simon (Shimon) in Hebrew means hearing or listening. Though the name was a real name and not just a symbolic one, St John the Evangelist weaves it beautifully into his narrative to summarise the process and dynamics of discipleship - the disciple is one who listens and puts into practice what he has heard.

So, God continues to speak to us through His Word. And His Word is not just found in a book, but in a living breathing person, Our Lord Jesus Christ. We should have no excuse to not listen. And yet, we can find a load of excuses not to listen. I guess that busyness is easily the number one excuse for not hearing, not meditating, not praying, not taking time to study God’s Word. But busyness is just a cover for the real reasons. One common reason is pride. Pride that wants to say “Listen up, Lord, I’m speaking” rather than “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”  Others don’t listen because they are angry with God, and so we choose to give Him the silent treatment. Or maybe our problem is just sheer laziness. Bibles, study guides, online formations – and more – are all easily accessible, but we’re just too lazy to make use of them.

 And yet, God in His grace, continues to speak. God is more persistent than we can ever imagine. He hasn’t taken His Word from our lives – in fact, just the opposite, He speaks to us in more places and ways than ever before. In spite of our selective listening, and in spite of our sinfulness, God continues to speak to us, for only one reason: Love. God is Love and He continues to love us in spite of our obstinacy. He speaks to us day after day, year after year, in order to break through our obstinacy. God never gives up even if we are hard of hearing. Remember Samuel?

God’s Word has the power to do what none of the other voices in the world can do: He transforms us so that we not only want to listen, but we are emboldened to obey. St Paul reminds the Corinthians in the second reading that after having heard the Word, they can no longer go back to their previous depraved lives. Living such a life might not always make sense. It won’t always be popular or be politically correct. But it is God’s Word – the only voice we can trust in this noisy world and which can set us on the right and straight path to holiness.

Finally, all this begs the question: What does it mean to listen to God?

The first step is to stop talking. It is amazing how God can speak to us when we shut up.

We can also listen to God intently through scripture.  There is a time for studying the Word to have a better grasp and understanding of the text. But the Word of God is also meant to be prayed. For centuries, the Word of God has been best explained and understood in the context of our Catholic liturgy. Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition are meant to go together because they both come from a common source. As much as we admire the Protestant’s proficiency in quoting scriptural texts, our Catholic exposition and appreciation of the bible cannot be done in isolation and apart from our liturgy, as our liturgy is deeply scriptural and our scripture is profoundly liturgical.

Finally, listening to God also requires patience.  Patience teaches us humility and docility - humility to recognise that God sets the pace, not us; and, docility to submit in obedience to the Word. The Latin root for the word “obedience”, “obedire”, simply means “to listen.” Ultimately, to truly listen to God’s Word demands obedience, as opposed to simply receiving information. For as the Apostle James reminds us: “you must DO what the Word tells you and not just listen to it and deceive yourselves.” (James 1:22) Listen! Do! Believe and Live!

What time is it?

Christmas Mass during the Night

Priests and parish staff are oft to repeat this rant about Christmas, especially in the run up to the big day. The office phone will be ringing off the hook inundated with calls enquiring about Mass timing. The icing which tops the cake has to be this seemingly innocuous question: “What time is Christmas Midnight Mass?” Let that sink in.... it’s like asking, “what time is your noon lunch break?” Sometimes, the obvious isn’t that obvious even when it is stated explicitly.

Well, there may be a reason why someone would ask for the timing of the Midnight Mass. It has been a long time since Midnight Masses were celebrated at midnight in most parishes, especially here in Malaysia, where multiple Masses are celebrated throughout the night to accommodate the massive crowds and the vernacular communities. The Holy Father’s decision to move the Christmas “midnight” Mass to 7.30 pm this year due to a curfew imposed by the civil authorities for public health reasons has enraged many traditional-minded Catholics and befuddled many others as the Mass during the night appears to move further and further away from its traditional midnight slot. To be fair to Pope Francis, it was St John Paul II who had moved the “midnight” Mass to 10 pm during his pontificate on the pretext that he needed to wake up early in the morning to celebrate the dawn Mass.

I can understand why Catholics would be upset with this change of timing as the traditional timing has deep significance. In the first place it corresponds with the traditional belief that Christ was born at midnight. Secondly, from the material darkness around us, we are reminded of the spiritual darkness in the world which only Christ the Light can dispel.

But what is more important than the timing of the Christmas Mass is the significance of this day in human history. To understand this, we need to know that there are two Greek words and concepts associated with “time.” There is “chronos” which refers to time measured by the clock, by seconds, minutes, hours, days. Here in this story of the birth of Christ, we are given such an indication with St Luke recording that the event took place during the reign of Caesar Augustus and his empire-wide census. As important as this historical date or event may be (some historians have questioned its historicity), it is a mere cursory note in Luke’s narrative.

The Greeks, however, have a second type of reckoning of time - “kairos” - the opportune moment, the right moment, the perfect time for acting and making decisions. And it is here that we see how the Divine Kairos moment converges with the chronological hour. The story shifts away from the chronological hour to the Kairos moment of God’s decisive intervention in human history - the Eternal Word takes on flesh, God becomes man, the Timeless One enters into our time and space.

This is what the angels announced to the shepherds and what we proclaimed in the response to our psalm, “Today a Saviour has been born to us, He is Christ the Lord.” What we celebrate at Christmas is not so much the birth of a baby, as important as that is, but what’s so significant about the birth of this particular baby is that, in this birth, we have the incarnation of God Himself, we have the birth of our Saviour.

The fullness of time had come. For thousands upon thousands of years, God’s people waited for the coming of the Son of David, the Messiah-King of Israel, the promised Prince of Peace, Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God. And now, their prophets’ wildest dreams finally materialised as angel choirs announced, The King is here! Born this very day. It doesn’t matter whether it was midnight or 10 pm or 7.30 pm in the evening. The point is that with Christ’s coming, that’s always the right time, the perfect time, the ultimate Kairos moment.

Many of us would find ourselves questioning God’s timing which sometimes seems at odds with our own timing, our plans. Many would have made plans this year to travel, to get married, to further their studies, to move jobs, to grow their business, to buy a house or a car. But here comes this global pandemic which seems to have ruined all our plans and thrown every timeline and dateline of ours into utter chaos. What lousy timing? Could God have delayed this until things were a little bit more secure, or couldn’t He just allow this to happen earlier without throwing our plans into disarray?

But the truth is this: God's timing is always good timing. It’s perfect timing. God is never too early, never too late, but always on time. Our timing isn't God's timing. For us, God's timing often feels like a long, desperate delay or it comes too soon when we are least prepared. God's perfect timing does two things: It grows our faith as we are forced to wait and trust in God and it makes certain that He, and He alone, gets the glory and praise for pulling us through.

So, it is “Today”, not “yesterday” nor “tomorrow,” but “today!” “Today a Saviour has been born to us, He is Christ the Lord.” It may not be the ideal slot at midnight; it may seem a little too early to celebrate the Christmas midnight Mass, but what we celebrate today at this Mass is always perfect timing: “Today a Saviour has been born to us, He is Christ the Lord.”

Many people may be complaining that this year, because of this destructive pandemic, has been the worst year of their lives - an “annus horribilis”, an awful year, as opposed to an “annus mirabilis”, a wonderful year. This year has turned people’s worlds upside-down in so many ways. Many would say that this pandemic and government restrictions have also rendered our Christmas, the worst Christmas of our lives. With smaller budgets for shopping, restrictions on festive celebrations, uncertain future and disrupted plans for next year, and public Christmas Masses suspended, it does seem that this Christmas does deserve that ignoble accolade.

But before you throw your own pity-party, it’s good to remember the experience of the Holy Family that first Christmas. A couple, with a heavily pregnant young mother finding themselves out in the cold on a winter night, separated from kin and away from their home, only finding refuge in an animal stable, giving birth to a child in an extremely hostile world of insecure tyrannical despots, a child who will be placed in a manger, a feeding trough for animals. All the elements needed for a disaster movie, making it one of the worst experiences for any family. But this is not the case.

Rather than being a start to an annus horribilis due to such harsh and horrid conditions, the birth of this child will inaugurate an aetas mirabilis, an age of such great marvel, simply because “Today a Saviour has been born to us, He is Christ the Lord.” That alone will cast a light that would immediately dispel the surrounding darkness in this world. That alone, would transform misfortune into a blessing, a bleak future into a hopeful one, a sense of loss into one of abundance. Whatever situation you find yourselves in tonight, no matter how you may question God’s timing, know this - the birth of this Child changes everything. So, if someone tells you that Christmas has been cancelled this year due to the pandemic, you should respond, “No, this pandemic has been cancelled by Christmas!”

Nothing cancels Christmas, absolutely nothing!

Because “Today a Saviour has been born to us, He is Christ the Lord.”

Truth draws the line

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

I’ve been described as a “pigeon” for good reason. I think it is fair assessment because I often wish to avoid conflict and keep the peace. Confrontation drains and sends me tumbling down a rabbit hole of depression. But, rather than seeing this as a virtue, I have come to recognise that it is a fault to the hilt. A fault, and perhaps even a vice that I have to constantly struggle against. Because in wanting to merely “keep the peace”, I end up sometimes sacrificing the Truth or violating my conscience. This is especially challenging when my true motivation is not really about finding true peace, but something less altruistic – in fact, quite self-serving: I just do not want to lose my friends or my popularity.

Although we acclaim Christ as the Prince of Peace, it must be stated clearly that peace at any price is not the goal of Christianity. Where two sides embrace two conflicting “truths,” compromise to attain some form of uneasy “peace” or to avoid conflict at all cost will descend into an evil. Peace is not just the absence of conflict. In fact, peace is not the result of the absence of something or anything, but true peace always entails the presence of God. It is a Godless society that descends into a violent society, even when such violence is perpetrated in the name of God and religion. Peace loving leaders and their proponents may win the accolades of men for their avoidance of conflict, but if such avoidance of conflict entrenches evil and deceit, and allows it to continue under the blessing of a compromised peace, we are in a sense supporting the continuation of evil.

What is required is not reconciliation that allows and overstates the benefits of a false peace but appropriate confrontation that ensures, what is God’s remains God’s, and what is man’s or what is usurped by man, is restored to God. Truth that liberates, that sets us free and that saves can only come from God. Truth can never be the result of human compromise to merely “keep the peace” so as to offend no one. The fact of the matter is that modern man is willing to risk offending God rather than offending man. It should be the reverse. Give no offence to God, even if it means offending someone who cannot accept the Truth that comes from God. That which is of God is the only Truth. No one can add to it or subtract from it, they cannot improve on it with new human wisdom, nor can they refute it by denial. Anyone who thinks that they can is arrogant. The best we can do is to have a better understanding.

Far from the peace-loving, conflict avoiding Messiah that is depicted by moderns, our Lord in today’s gospel tells us, without mincing words, that He has come to ‘bring fire to the earth’ and ‘bring division’. It is important to note that the Lord is not making some broad statement about His ultimate purpose. Rather, He is pointing to a very real result of His message and mission. The gospel will effect divisions because the Lord confronts us with the truth. He is “the Truth” (John 14:6) and all have to make a response. Our response will ultimately be the point of division. We can either accept the Truth or reject ‘him’. If we try to ignore, that too is a form of rejection. As the Lord announced the kingdom of God, calling for primary allegiance, this will inevitably cause splits and create rifts between different camps, those who will stand with Him in the Kingdom, and those who refuse to abide with Him or even choose to stand against the Kingdom. The family, the traditional central institution that provides protection and social identity, must also give way to this new relationship with Christ. So, even though the kingdom of God ultimately establishes God’s peace on earth, the advance of the kingdom brings division.

The fiery message of this passage is equally crucial to our times. The challenge thrown by the Lord is contrary to many of the prevalent values of our age, the two principal ones being inclusiveness and moral relativity. As a result of this obsession with “inclusiveness,” we are told that we should accept “alternative lifestyles”, redefinitions of life, marriage and sex, normalise the abnormal. The catchword is “tolerance”. Some have almost made a god of tolerance. Yet we find these same people can be quite intolerant of any other viewpoint that disagrees with theirs. Closely related to this teaching of tolerance is the concept of moral relativity, which illogically argues that there are no moral absolutes, except its own claim to be absolute. We must, however, note that Truth is indeed intolerant but its intolerance is directed to lies and sin which seek to hide under the cover of euphemisms. We must remember that Jesus was never tolerant of evil. In the case of the woman caught in adultery (John 8:11), He reached out to the sinner in love, but He hated sin. Compassion and acceptance of the sinner have never meant tolerance of their behaviour. It meant exhorting them to cease that sort of behaviour. Our Lord drew very sharp lines between what was good and what was evil, what was moral and what was immoral. When we blur the line between good and evil, we call destruction upon ourselves.

This unhappy truth does not, of course, imply that followers of Jesus are to seek conflict or to try to split up families or bring division. In fact, our Lord makes it clear that we are to be peacemakers and “to live in peace with each other” (Matt. 5:9; Mark 9:50). St Paul adds: “Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone” (Rom. 12:18). That is why Christians are called to be bridge builders and to enter into dialogue with others. But making peace is not the same as making nice. Being nice just means, not trying to offend anyone, which often means lying, compromising our values and giving in to the demands of others and societal pressure to conform. Sometimes, our efforts to bring genuine peace to a situation or a relationship will, in fact, lead to conflict. Neither does making peace mean compromising the Truth. Truth is not the antithesis of love. In fact, love demands truth.

Yes, division is inevitable. As long as the world continues to resist the life-changing gospel of Christ, as long as the world continues to attempt to subvert and win us over to its self-serving values, where man is God and God is not, there will be division and conflict. St Augustine speaks of this division in terms of, “the City of God”, where love rules, and the “City of the World” where human greed and lust for power rule. Our Lord reveals that this division will sever even the closest family ties, while St Paul depicts this division as splitting apart even the individual human heart, where the flesh fights against the spirit (Gal 5:17).

There is a battle between good and evil going on in the world and in our hearts. It is important that we are aware of this. Our Lord has drawn the lines and calls us to make a stand. All disciples have to choose where we are going to stand—with Jesus or with the world. Many of us, well-intentioned Catholics, may honestly believe that we are standing with Christ but unknowingly, are actually aligning ourselves with the world’s standard. Our collusion with the world may sometimes be benign and subtle. When we are afraid to witness to the values of the Kingdom with the excuse that we wish to be peaceful and respectful, or that we do not wish to offend anyone, we are actually standing out of line, within the firing range of enemy territory. When we try to be friendly with the world, we may make the fatal mistake of being an unwitting Trojan horse within our own ranks. In the heat of battle, where there is much confusion and the temptation to sound a retreat is great, let us never forget the advice of the author of Hebrews, “let us not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it to perfection.”  He is our victor and we who stand with Him will be victorious. And He assures us that we can “conquer evil through good.” (Rom 12:21)