Light shines brightest in Darkness

Christmas Midnight Mass Year B

When I was a child I used to be afraid of the dark. I shared a room with my older brother but that was no consolation. My brother would take great delight in aggravating my night fears by making spooky noises and sounds in the next bed. He would often tell me stories of ghosts, vampires and witches that will snatch me from my bed and whisk me away into the night. Sometimes I’ll pull the covers over the head to prevent the vampires from sucking my blood dry in the night. I had my revenge – well, at least in my dreams. My dreams often contained a simple narrative where he turns into a werewolf or vampire and then pursues me round the house. The story would, however, always have a happy ending. The both of us would end up in the kitchen where I would take my mom’s vegetable chopper and gleefully chop him to pieces! I also had another manner of revenge. I would plead with my parents to keep a small light lit throughout the night. Of course, my brother hated to sleep with the lights on. But, then it’s payback time!

I can’t remember when I finally slept without the lights on. It seems that I just grew out of it. I had prayed that the darkness would just go away. But eventually learnt to live with it with the sure confidence that I would not be consumed by it and there was always the certain hope of the next day’s dawning light. But being an adult doesn’t mean that we have grown out of all our fears. In fact, many adults have acquired more fears than when they were children. There are many things that we are fearful of, and I’m not even speaking of neurotic phobias. These fears resemble the darkness of our childhood. Such fears can range from fear of creepy crawlies to fear of what appears to be oddly ordinary, such as persons and flying. Still others are frightened of the unknown. Many are frightened of death. Today, most of us continue to live in fear. We fear the uncertainty of the future. We fear that our loved ones will leave us. We fear failure. We fear that people will laugh at us. We fear that no one will love us, and so we try to please everyone in order to make them like us or love us. We fear the changes that are taking place: our children growing up; our friends moving away; losing a job. And because we live with so much fear, we too look for that light in the darkness that will reassure us that everything is fine.

The darkness has come to symbolize everything that doesn’t seem right in our lives – our frustrations, our setbacks, our losses, our failures, our pains and hurts. We try to break free of the darkness on our own, but sometimes the prison in which we find ourselves encased in seems too formidable or large for our very best efforts. But the experience of the darkness has also brought about a greater appreciation of its antithesis. In a way, darkness has taught me to appreciate the light. One often fails to appreciate or recognize the light unless one sees the stark contrast when it is juxtaposed against the dark.

On this Christmas night, we see the interplay of light and darkness. The Prophet Isaiah in the first reading prophesied that a people who live in darkness will see a great light. The fulfillment comes in the gospel story of shepherds caring for their flock in the fields on that first Christmas night. These shepherds are away from the hustle and bustle of urban living, away from the light pollution of the cities that dim our vision of the stars. They truly live and work in darkness. But it is not just physical darkness that we are speaking of. The shepherds were often regarded as the scum and refuse of society. They were frequently stereotyped as petty thieves, cheats, and were regarded ritually unclean by their more pious and righteous neighbours. The darkness in their lives encompassed both sin and alienation. They were proverbially ‘the people who lived in darkness.’ It may seem strange and out of place to see that the angels chose to appear before them to bring good news of the birth of a new King. It would not be surprising, however, if we can understand how light stands out brighter in the midst of darkness. The city folks who were often enamoured by other bright attractions and those others who had everything together that very night, would pay little attention to a strange constellation of stars. The artificial lights of their lives had blinded them to seeing the true light. Only those who live in darkness and could recognize their very situation could hope, long and expect to see the light.

Today, Our Saviour has been born to us! He is that light in the darkness! He is the Messiah long promised by God through the prophets! He is the Prince of Peace and the Lord of Lords! In today’s gospel, the angels announce his arrival with these words: “Do not be afraid!” “Do not be afraid” because a child is born for us, “a son given to us and dominion is laid on his shoulders; and this is the name they give him: Wonder-Counsellor, Mighty God, Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.”

All of these do not make any sense to someone who seem to have it all together. Who looks for a Saviour unless one feels the need to be saved? Who searches for the light unless one is experiencing darkness? Who strives for peace unless they are undergoing turmoil? Who cries out for strength unless one knows fear? We often come to a sorry conclusion that Christmas isn’t Christmas till it happens in your heart – a song that tends to equate our subjective feelings with the essence of Christmas. There is often an erroneous presumption that unless everything is perfect or goes according to plan, then our Christmas will be disaster. If this is really the criteria by which Christmas should be judged, then the first Christmas would be a massive catastrophe – the census came at a wrong time, the delivery room was a sanitary nightmare and the birth could have happened under better times and circumstances. Yet, it in spite of so many things going wrong, it remained nevertheless the first Christmas, the greatest Christmas ever celebrated. A celebration of light in the midst of darkness.

This is what Christmas is all about. Christmas isn’t about the absence of darkness, but being able to see the light in spite of the darkness, a light which the darkness can never consume, a light which will prevail, a light which will show us the way. We, who have walked in darkness, in the darkness of sin, in the darkness of our fears, in the darkness of our failures, loss and disappointments, have now seen a great light. It is Jesus Christ. St. Paul tells us in the second reading: “He sacrificed himself for us in order to set us free from all wickedness and to purify a people so that it could be hive very own and would have no ambition except to do good.” Therefore, “Do not be afraid.”

If you are afraid of being alone, if you are afraid of growing old alone, “do not be afraid” because you will never be alone, God is with you. If you are afraid of the future, if you are anxious about what is going to happen to you, “do not be afraid” because God has already established his kingdom of peace, and nothing will prevail against it. If you are afraid of making certain difficult decisions, if you are afraid of standing up for the truth, “do not be afraid” because “God’s grace has been revealed, and it has made salvation possible for the whole human race and taught us that what we have to do is to give up everything that does not lead to God … that we must be self-restrained and live good and religious lives here in this present world.”

On that first Christmas Day, the angels announced this news of great joy to the shepherds. Today the angels and the saints and the entire Church announces this same good news to you: “Today a saviour has been born to you, he is Christ the Lord.”

天主给的礼物

将临期第四主日

我们都知道圣诞期间是给予的时期。 我们忙着为他人买礼物。 我们尽量为对方物色适合的礼物。 但，事实上，我们通常所选的都是我们所喜欢的。因为我们所喜欢的礼物，我们也以为那人必会喜欢。

这也是读经一中的达味王所想的。 这时的达味王已年老并打了无数的胜战，他想可以退休享受晚年了。然而，他感到内疚因没有为天主做些什么。 为此，达味王决定为天主建筑一座殿宇按放约柜。这是他给天主的礼物。他没想到这并不是天主所要的。

原本是达味王愿为天主建筑殿宇的。现在反过来却是天主祝福了达味王并许下他的王权，家室永远存在。达味王原想建殿宇为光荣天主，反而是天主光荣了达味王使他在万邦中成名。

我们常以为要做个好基督徒，我们必须把宝贵的献给天主。 我们以为我们可以以我们的礼物贿赂天主。事情并不是这样的。一个好基督徒，首先而最重要的是要学习接纳天主所愿赐给我们的一切。

这就是玛利亚的特质。玛利亚没有什么可奉献给天主。她只不过是一位十四岁的女孩。没有人会认真看待一位孩童或青少年。她可以奉献什么给天主呢？而她是一个女人。在犹太的社会里，女人只是二等公民 － 她们的地位只比佣人稍高一点。玛利亚一无所有，没有才能，没有能力奉献什么给天主。 天主却拣选她做他圣子的母亲并降福她。 玛利亚在天主眼中获得宠幸因为她随时“聆听”。 玛利亚之伟大皆因接纳领受天主赐给她的一切。

今天，我们或许认为没什么可献给天主。那可是真的 － 我们所献的并无所值。我们所有的都是天主所赏赐的。我们所能给于的并不重要。问题是我们必须问我们自己 － 我们是否准备从天主手中接纳一切？做个领受的人而不是给予的人并将自己放在施与者的权下。我们不能有所选择。我们只能选接受或拒绝所给于的。有时，这引起恐惧。但是没什么可怕的。我们被召把我们的生命交在天主的手里。我们必须让天主掌管我们的生命。

让我们与玛利亚齐声向天主说：“我是上主的婢女” － “我们只是上主的仆人”。 “愿照你的话成就于我！”

Giving and Receiving

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year B

We all know that Christmas time is a time for giving. We are busy buying presents for one another. We try to choose the gift that will suit the person. But the truth is: many of us actually choose gifts that we would like. Because we like the gift, we often think that the other person would like it too.

This was what King David in the first reading thought. Being old now and having fought many wars, He thought that he could now retire and enjoy his life for the rest of his years. And yet, he felt guilty that he had not done enough for God. Therefore, David decided to build a temple to house the ark of the Covenant. It was his gift to God. Little did he realize that that was not what God wanted from him.

Instead of King David making a gift of the temple to God, the reverse happened – God blessed David and promised him a dynasty, a house, that will last forever. Instead of David attempting to glorify God by building the temple, God chose to glorify David – to make him great in the midst of all nations.

Many of us think that if we want to be good Christians, we must be able to give something which is precious to God. We think that we can bribe God with our gift. This is not so. Being good Christians, first and foremost, means learning to receive and accept from God’s hands whatever he wishes to give us.

This was the quality of Mary. She had nothing to give God. She was a young fourteen year old girl. No one takes a child or a teenager seriously. What could she offer God? She was a woman. In Jewish society, women were second class citizens – they were only a little higher than the servants. She had no possession, no talent, no power to offer to God. Yet God chose her as the mother of His Son and He blessed her. She had won God’s favour only by being attentive to God’s will. She had won God’s favour only because she was ready to ‘listen.’ Mary is great because she learnt how to receive and accept from the hands of God whatever He wished to give her.

Today, we may think that we have nothing to give God. That may be true – no gift of ours is worthy. Everything that we have comes from God. What we are capable of giving isn’t that important. The question we must ask ourselves- are we prepared to receive from God’s hands? To be the receiver instead of the giver places us in the power of the giver. We can’t choose the gift. We can only choose to accept or reject whatever is given to us. Sometimes, that can be frightening. But there is nothing to be afraid off. We are called to place our lives in the hands of God. We must allow God to take control of our lives.

Let us unite our voices with the voice of Mary: “I am the handmaid of the Lord” – “We are merely the servants of God”. “Let what you have said be done to me.”

Joy is the fruit of Hope, not naive optimism

Third Sunday of Advent Year B

Today, I opened the newspapers and just like any other ordinary day of the week I’m confronted with a whole range of bad news, disasters and tragedies. Even if we were to come across some piece of good news, one isn’t really sure whether it’s the truth or just another propaganda churned out by the establishment. The politics in this country is really so bad that I don’t think I would even vote in the next elections. What’s the point? All the candidates would be equally abysmal. There is simply no hope that things are going to get better. The economy is going to the dogs and there is nothing I can do about it. My job is at risk, I’m not sure if I will be retrenched or whether I will be able to find a job after that. I can’t even migrate since I don’t have the money to do so and all these countries where my friends have migrated to have since imposed conditions that are impossible to fulfil. My doctor just diagnosed me with cancer and tells me that I’ve got a few more months to live. What am I complaining about? Perhaps, this is the best news yet. It would mean that I wouldn’t have to endure any more dreary years of pain and suffering. Recently, I’ve lost someone very dear to me and no amount of grieving is going to take away the pain of the loss. Sigh ….

This litany of sorrows and woes is just a simple demonstration to show that it is not difficult to see the negative, the dark and gloomy and to find ourselves stuck in a mire of despair. It is no wonder that so many people in our society are depressed, cynical and suicidal. Joy, on the other hand, is something elusive. We experience fleeting moments of happiness but then the looming darkness, which never really disappears, returns to burst the bubble of our naïve optimism.

Against this tide, not just a tide but a tsunami of despair, today’s liturgy shouts out this refrain: “Rejoice! Exult for Joy! Be happy at all times!” Our senses seem to want to shout back: “What’s there to be joyful about?” “Is the Church blind?” “Is God blind to our troubles?” Well, you need to understand that Joy is the central theme throughout the readings this Sunday. Indeed, the Third Sunday of Advent is called “Gaudete Sunday.” “Gaudete” is the Latin word meaning ‘rejoice.’ What joy can there be in the midst of so much pain, suffering, gloom and darkness? It is certainly not the joy that emerges from some false optimism on our part that things are going to get better – too often, we can attest to this, things in fact get worse. Neither is it the joy that comes from creating an illusory world in our minds where pain and suffering is denied. So what is this joy which the readings are speaking of? The answer lies in Christ. It is the joy of knowing that our Lord, the light of the World, is coming. He is coming to dispel the darkness of our lives.

We are called to rejoice, because the Lord is coming – he is coming to save us, to liberate us, and to give us new life. Many of us may be experiencing some form of darkness in our lives. We find ourselves in the midst of problems without any apparent solution. We see ourselves ‘captives’ of our difficult circumstances, there seems to be no way out. Our hearts may be broken because of rejection or we have been hurt by the actions and words of others. We see ourselves poor, hungering and thirsting for friendship, understanding and a sense of belonging. Some of us find ourselves trapped in the darkness of sin.

If we see ourselves in any of these situations, rejoice and be glad, because the today’s readings promise good news. This is the promise of God, as St. Paul tells us in the second reading: “God has called you and he will not fail you.” God is always faithful. God keeps his promise. God will not fail you. This is the good news of the prophet Isaiah in the first reading: The Spirit of the Lord has been given to us – it is good news to the poor, healing to the broken hearted, freedom to the captives, a message of blessing for everyone. The Good news is that which is announced by John the Baptist in the gospel – Jesus has come – he is the Light of the World – and he is waiting to enter into your hearts and into your lives once again.

Thus, Joy surprises us. It shows up in unexpected places. It goes against the tide. We often think that being pessimistic is realistic. It is joy which gives a realistic vision of life. When I speak of joy, here it is not the false optimism that things are going to get better in the near future or that you would find an answer to your predicament. Rather, this joy is one which springs from faith and hope – it is based on our hope and belief that God has not abandoned us even when we do not see him in the midst of our troubles.

St. Paul says, "Rejoice always!" It's not a suggestion, like "cheer up, " or "look on the sunny side." It is, rather, a command, "Rejoice." Not only when things are going well. Not just when I am getting my way - but always. "Rejoice always." St. Paul can command joy because joy requires a conscious choice. Thus, joy is not just the consequence of your surrounding circumstances – when thing are going well for you. Rather, joy is always a deliberate choice. You can choose to be joyful even when things don’t seem to be going according plan.

So, what’s the formula for this joy? Do we need to whistle a tune or sing Bobby Mcferrin’s ‘Don’t worry be happy’? Do we need to escape into an imaginary world so that we can consider all pain and suffering as illusory? St Paul in today’s second reading gives us the answer: to pray without ceasing, to give thanks on all occasions and to avoid sin and evil.

Joy comes to those who pray without ceasing, to those who are committed to pray not only in moments of joy but also in times of sorrow, who are able to pray in the midst of troubles, confusion and the even during the dark night of the soul, where our prayers seem unanswered. Prayer is giving voice to our hope. It is a hope that does not disappoint because it is based on our firm belief that God has not and will not abandon us. Therefore, Christian hope has nothing to do with the false optimism or wishful thinking that our sickness will be healed, the problem will be solved, the obstacle would be removed, and the pain would be relieved. All these things may continue to accompany and harangue us, and yet we believe that they do not mark an end to life and joy. We will be delivered in one way or another. God has promised something far greater than the momentary relief we seek in this present life. God has promised us eternal life. This is our confident expectation.

How do we know that our hope will not be in vain? It is through the virtue of gratitude. Gratitude is remembering how God has delivered us from past evils, how God has intervened in a situation that seemed hopeless, how God has sustained us to endure the greatest of trials and how God remains faithful to his promises. Hope is firmly anchored in the history and narrative of Scriptures. Gratitude brings to mind the memory of God’s faithfulness which pierces the misty veil created by our present difficulties.

Finally, joy comes to those who persevere in their pursuit of holiness, who choose to avoid sin and evil in their daily lives. Mankind constantly searches for the sociological, economic, political or even philosophical reason and cause for suffering. What man often forgets is that suffering has its roots in a theological cause – it is sin and evil that brought suffering into this world. No amount of motivational programming, counseling, socio-economic-political reform will be able to rid this world of suffering unless man is prepared to address the issue of sin and evil.

Rejoice and be glad, the good news is that God has not abandoned us. He is here present among us. There is joy in knowing that God waits for us although we may have forgotten him. God waits for us although we may have stopped waiting for him. He keeps a lantern lit in the window, so that we who are lost would find our way home. This is true joy – knowing that no matter what happens in life, no matter how bad the situation may become, God’s love for us will endure and will triumph at the end.

Prepare the Way of the Lord

Second Sunday of Advent Year B

"Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths." The monumental feat which is implied by this text may be entirely lost on us unless we have travelled along one of these mountainous winding roads, especially those that cut across treacherous terrain. As we stand in awe of such magnificent engineering, a question often crosses our mind would be this, “How in the heavens did they manage to do this?!” Today, modern technology has vastly simplified the construction of tunnels, bridges and roads with the invention of dynamite, excavators, tractors, tunnel drills and other engineering equipment. Despite all the technological know-how and heavy machineries, any engineer or contractor would still tell you that it is anything but an easy feat. But now try to imagine the same feat accomplished by human hands with only the aid of axes, hammers and stone.

Understanding the biblical allusion, the historical context, and the phenomenal physical challenge of the project would help us understand and appreciate the call of John the Baptist in today’s gospel.

First, the passage is a quotation, with minor alterations, from the Old Testament. Although, he attributes everything to the prophet Isaiah, St Mark is actually quoting two different biblical references to speak of the ministry of John the Baptist and the content of his message. The first part of the prophecy which refers to the ministry of John the Baptist as the messenger is actually a paraphrase taken from Malachi 3:1 which speaks about the prophet Elijah returning to prepare the way presumably for the Messiah. Later, St Mark would provide a detailed description of the clothing and diet of John the Baptist which is almost identical with that of the prophet Elijah, the Tishbite, mentioned in the First Book of the Kings. With Elijah’s reappearance, the long awaited Messiah would not be too far behind. When that day finally arrives, Israel’s liberation and vindication would be at hand.

But it is the second part of the text when it speaks of the voice and the message announced that draws our attention to the preparation needed to welcome the Lord. Again here, we see another paraphrase of the Old Testament, in this case from Isaiah 40, which we had heard in today’s first reading. Isaiah 40 was written as a message of hope to Israelites and Judeans who were in exile in Babylon, promising them that they will return home to the Promised Land from their long exile, a journey that will take them over the desert sands. Thus at one level, it is message that promises liberation from captivity – good news that the Israelites who have lived as prisoners in exile will now finally experience freedom and be able to return to their beloved homeland. At a second level, it speaks of their foundational experience, liberation from slavery in Egypt and their journey in the desert for forty years under the guidance of the Lord.

But the text still has another older historical allusion. The idea is taken from the practice of eastern monarchs, who, whenever they entered upon an expedition or took a journey, especially through desert and unchartered territory, sent harbingers before them to prepare all things for their passage, and pioneers to open the passes, to level the ways, and to remove all impediments. This was usually done during times of peace. In times of war, the hazardous or difficult terrain often offered a natural defense or barrier against the enemy. The king or his country would not gain any advantage by remodeling the terrain to facilitate an easier passage. But during times of peace, especially after the king had won a great victory, his victory procession returning to his capital would be supplemented with an exaggerated ceremonial pomp and pageantry. It would be unsightly and unbecoming if the king had himself to maneuver across these natural barriers and obstacles. Thus, the leveling of the hills, the filling of the valleys and the straightening of the paths became symbolic of his victory not only over his enemies but also over the forces of nature. It was a great homecoming.

A well documented example of this monumental engineering feat is that of the funeral procession of Alexander the Great, whose body was transported in a golden pavilion pulled by sixty over mules from Babylon in the East to the distant oasis town of Siwa in Egypt in the West. Historians record that an army of craftsman, labourers and engineers had been sent ahead of the funeral cortege in order to ‘prepare the way’ that was befitting for a man, an emperor who had united the known world from the East to the West.

Having looked at both the scriptural and historical allusions, we still have to consider one last feature, which is the enormous physical challenge of the project. Why did Isaiah and later the gospel writers choose this imagery? It is apparent that these were not minor public works like the periodic repairs and maintenance conducted by our JKR. Rather, it involved reshaping the terrain on a monumental scale. Thus when both the Prophet Isaiah and John the Baptist made this call, it can only be understood as a call to re-landscape our lives. It is a call for radical conversion. This is reinforced by the image of the desert. The desert, in any event, can be a formidable foe. The desert changes anyone who dares to accept its challenge. The Israelites traverse the desert for 40 years after their departure from Egypt before they could arrive in the Promised Land. The 40 years did not only symbolised a whole generation, but a radical transformation of these people from being just slaves, no-people, a people without identity or nationality into God’s own people.

Thus, both the physical challenge of the project of landscaping and the desert imagery emphasises the extent of the change required to welcome the King. Conversion is anything but easy. Rearranging your furniture is much easier than changing persons. It is not enough to make cosmetic changes to our life, for example, stop or reduce your smoking; becoming a bit more patient with the people you live with, coming for Mass on Christmas Day, or making little changes here and there. In order to prepare for the coming of Jesus, our lives must undergo a deep and thorough conversion. It involves dying and being reborn. There is a need for repentance, a turning away from our sins, a rejection of our old way of life especially when that was leading us away from God.

Thus, the readings for us are a call to make preparation through repentance and conversion. We need to sincerely identify the obstacles that impede the coming of the Lord into our lives. Selfishness, sloth, greed, lust, vanity, indifference and sin marks the mountains, the valleys and the crooked ways which form an obstacle to Christ making his way into our hearts and into the world.

Today, these themes of liberation, peace, victory, homecoming and conversion converge in St Mark’s introduction to the gospel, the good news, of Jesus Christ. John the Baptist, the harbinger of the king, the new Elijah, the herald and forerunner of the Anointed one, appears on the scene to call for this radical and monumental work in preparation for the coming King. This time, it would be no ordinary mortal that we are awaiting for. It is no human king who would eventually witness the disintegration of his kingdom, as Alexander posthumously did. This is a king that could only be judged by radically different categories as John the Baptist pointed out – “One that is mightier than I is coming … I have baptized you with water; he will baptize you with the Spirit.” So let us “prepare the way of the Lord, and make straight his paths” because our liberation is coming, he is the Prince of Peace and our Victorious King.

Waiting for God...

First Sunday of Advent Year B

Today’s readings remind me of the highly cryptic and absurdist play written by Irish Nobel laureate and novelist, Samuel Beckett, “Waiting for Godot.” It is a tale that involves two characters, Vladimir and Estragon, who wait endlessly and in vain for someone named Godot to arrive. They divert themselves while they wait expectantly and in vain for the play’s namesake to arrive. They claim him as an acquaintance but in fact hardly know him, admitting that they would not recognise him were they to see him. To occupy themselves, they eat, sleep, converse, argue, sing, play games, exercise, swap hats, and contemplate suicide – anything "to hold the terrible silence at bay." At the end of the story, Godot does not appear, thus reinforcing the futility of the waiting. If fact, one may be led to think that Godot may actually not exist.

Godot's absence, as well as numerous other aspects of the play, have led to many different interpretations, including scriptural and theological allusions. Some may read the play as a parody of humanity who waits in vain for the coming of God, who chooses not to reveal himself at the end. It doesn’t take an Einstein to note that the name ‘Godot’ sounds too oddly familiar and similar to ‘God.’ Thus, the play can be read as a post-modernist critique of Christian hope. There is no point waiting for Christ coming, he isn’t coming, no one’s coming to deliver you, don’t waste your time, God may not even exist, there is no HOPE!

It is interesting that such a play, brilliant as it may be, with an equally bleak setting, should be voted the most significant English play of the 20th century. Is this an indication of how far we have descended into a state of hopelessness? Does it reveal a society that has grown cynical with waiting for divine deliverance from its present woes and sorrows?

Today, we begin the season of Advent not with a bleak message that we will be experiencing darker and more depressing times. Prophecies of doom abound from both economists and political analysts. The Advent message is not one which mirrors the storyline of the abovementioned play that we are waiting in vain for a person who will eventually not show up. No, the message of Advent is one of expectant joy, a message of true Christian hope that our waiting will not be vain. The person, whom mankind is waiting for as its saviour will come, in fact he has already come. Why? Because St Paul tells us, “God is faithful.”

Advent celebrates primarily two comings – the first coming of Christ in Bethlehem over two thousand years ago. The incarnation, the Word of God taking flesh, seems to be a fulfillment of what the Prophet Isaiah writes in today’s first reading – it is the prophecy of how the Lord “would tear the heavens open and come down.” The whole of humanity who had waited for aeons for the coming of its deliverer, its new Joshua who will lead them to the Promised Land, is not disappointed, as the Saviour has indeed come – He is Jesus the Christ. But Advent does not only prepare us for that first coming which we commemorate every year at the Feast of Christmas but also points us to the future, to Christ’s second coming in glory, to judge and deliver the world from sin, evil and death.

Our Christian faith is eschatological to its core. What do I mean by eschatological? The word ‘eschatology’ refers to the Last Things that we had learnt in our catechism – heaven, hell, death and judgment, the four eschata. But the real focus of eschatology is the Last Thing, which is not exactly a thing, in the sense of being an event or an object – it is God himself, the Eschaton. God is the source and summit of our lives, he is the beginning and the end, the Alpha and the Omega. Eschatology is not purely confined to these vague, deeply profound and theological concepts of the future. Eschatology has everything to do with our present lives. This eschatological vision shapes our Christian world-view. It reminds us that our objective and purpose in life does not reside in the past or even in the present, it is posited in the future. The final solution would not be found here in this life – the final solution can only be found in God. It provides us with a new benchmark of evaluating our priorities in life – are our preparations only for this earthly life or are they for eternal life? And finally, this eschatological dimension of our faith points to our basic orientation and disposition in life – how do we respond to Christ’s coming? The answer is this - It is through watchfulness.

What does it mean to be watchful? What does Jesus mean when he tells his disciples to ‘be on (their) guard,’ and ‘stay awake’? Humans are great voyeurs. We enjoy watching, especially what pleases the eye. A beautiful woman or a handsome man would often elicit a second look or even a prolonged gaze. We watch for market trends in order to ensure that we are ahead of things economically and financially. We watch for pitfalls and obstacles especially when we are negotiating a difficult path or engaging in a new project. Some of us enjoy watching for the faults of others and gleefully jump at the opportunity to catch them when they make a mistake.

But is this the kind of watchfulness which Jesus is speaking of? I guess that these are more distractions rather than authentic watchfulness. We are invited by the readings to watch for the Lord, and especially for his coming. Firstly, this requires patience because as Jesus noted, ‘you never know when the time will come.’ The problem is that our attention span is often too short. We constantly look for distractions or loose interest when results are not immediately forthcoming. In a world that seeks immediate gratification, quick final solutions are the only acceptable options. Patience teaches us to respect God's time and not dictate it.

Watchfulness calls for fidelity or faithfulness to our duty. Take note that in today’s gospel, the image of the master entrusting the servants with a duty to watch for his coming, reminds all of us that being watchful is not just merely an individual vocation. The servants’ lack of watchfulness may cost the entire household its property or even the life of its members. We are called to be watchful not only for ourselves, but also for our family members, our children, future generations, our neighbours, our BEC members, our non-Christian friends, colleagues and everyone else. If we let down our guard, others apart from us will suffer too.

The third aspect of this watchfulness is expounded by St Paul in the second reading. He exhorts the Corinthians that while waiting for the Lord’s coming, to keep ready and without blame until the last day.’ Staying awake and being watchful means that we need to guard against sin. Sin dulls our senses to the promptings of God. Sin blinds us from recognizing Christ in our lives. Sin distracts us from waiting and watching for the Lord. That is why Advent is also a penitential period for the whole Church. It is a time for us to honestly search our hearts, seek the Lord’s forgiveness, celebrate His mercy and the gift of repentance in order to make ready the way for the Lord’s coming.

Unlike Vladimir and Estragon who seem to have waited in vain for the mysterious Godot whom they do not know, Christians, on the other hand, are waiting in hope for Christ whom they do know. Our Christian waiting is never in vain. Christ will come. But will he find us ready, on guard and awake? Rather than to fill our time waiting with activities and distractions that will “hold the terrible silence at bay,” let our season of Advent be one of watchfulness, fidelity, patience and finally contrition that we may find within the silence of our hearts the voice of God, who sends his son to be our liberation and our salvation.

Christ the King

Christ the King Year A

Dies iræ! Dies illa Solvet sæclum in favilla:
The day of wrath, that day will dissolve the world in ashes …

Quantus tremor est futurus, Quando iudex est venturus,
Cuncta stricte discussurus!
How much tremor there will be, when the judge will come,
investigating everything strictly!

Iudex ergo cum sedebit,Quidquid latet, apparebit:
Nil inultum remanebit.
When therefore the judge will sit, whatever hides will appear:
nothing will remain unpunished.

Does this sound familiar to any of you? Well, if you had listened carefully to the English translation, you would have realized that this Latin poem evokes a frightening image of the Day of Judgment – it describes it as a Day of God’s wrath, a day when the world will be dissolved into ashes, a day when God sits as judge firmly and strictly investigating everything. Nothing will be hidden from his sight, no evil will remain unpunished. This frightening image of the Last Day, the Day of Judgment, would obviously not sit well with anyone today. In fact, this medieval Latin hymn, Dies Irae, which was a characteristic part of the Catholic Requiem Mass before the renewal of the liturgy after Vatican II, was removed from the present Catholic funeral liturgy, because some felt that the hymn was saturated with negative spirituality inherited from the Middle Ages. They felt that the song had overemphasized judgment, fear and despair whereas the funeral liturgy should actually be focusing on the hope and joy of the resurrection. So, the song got the boot!

But, the issue does not just boil down to a song. It is the idea or the image of God that lies behind the song. An image that would obviously not sit well with a crowd of Catholics today, who would be expecting Jesus to look something like the picture of the Divine Mercy and the Sacred Heart, a Jesus with a kind, compassionate and gentle face with arms outstretched to welcome all of us, even the most wretched among us. We find it hard to reconcile a Jesus who is merciful and loving with a Jesus who sits in judgment of us. In today’s language, we will protest: “This just doesn’t jive!” Perhaps, they would even draw inspiration from today’s gospel and say, “Look at today’s Gospel. In the parable of Jesus, Jesus identifies entirely with the weak, the poor and the marginalized.” This is the kind of Jesus whom we would expect to be our friend, in fact our BFF – Best Friends Forever, Our Buddie for Life, the Jesus who seems to be just ‘an ordinary Joe’, not a cosmic universal king who will act as our final judge. This last image seems too alien and distant from us.

Before, we come to a conclusion about the kind of Jesus whom we would like to worship, let’s listen to the rest of this hymn, especially to this next stanza.

Inter oves locum præsta, Et ab hædis me sequestra,
Statuens in parte dextra.
Grant me a place among the sheep, and take me out from among the goats,
setting me on the right side.

It’s quite clear now that this hymn is describing the scene in today’s gospel, the story of how Jesus separates the sheep from the goats. Read on any other occasion, it would not be too hard for someone to conclude that the whole crux of the story is this: all it takes to get to heaven is to offer a cup of water to someone who is thirsty, because you may actually be offering a drink to Jesus, himself. It is certainly a nice interpretation to the story that reminds us of the responsibility of fraternal charity. There is nothing wrong with this reading, but is it adequate?

Do remember that this is a parable of judgment. More importantly, Christ is presented as a cosmic all-powerful king sitting on his throne and as a judge summoning the accused to trial. Perhaps, this setting is entirely lost to most of us because the gravity and seriousness of the Day of Judgment is no longer emphasized in our modern liturgy. In fact, the parable of Jesus presents two images of Christ, both seemingly at opposite ends of a spectrum. One image is that of a God who is transcendent, who is distant from us, who sits as king in judgment of us. The other image is an image of a God who is immanent, who dwells among us, who is in complete solidarity with us, and who identifies with us. In other words, one presents us a God hidden behind the clouds and another, a God who looks just like us. The parable reminds us that both these images of Christ are not mutually exclusive. One does not cancel out the other.

Our preferences for the more gentle image of Jesus betrays a certain erroneous belief on our part. The idea of a remote or formal king does not resonate with us. What we want is one whom we can identify with, one who is like us; an approachable, compassionate and gentle king. Unfortunately, it is not a matter of choosing one image over the other. Jesus is that cosmic king seated on his throne of judgment – and there is a chasm which separates us lowly creatures from his august presence. Majesty which deserves worship and adulation is always marked by distance. You admire and worship someone only when you admire them from a distance, not when they are standing next to you and doing the same things as you. At the same time, this is a Jesus who has chosen to cross that chasm, knowing that no man nor woman will be able to make that journey; this is the supreme judge who understands that no mortal is able to bear the sentence for which he is accused, and who finally chooses to cross the distance from the bench to the gallery to take the place of the accused, the condemned in the dock, and to be punished and executed in his stead. It is one thing to know that someone has died for you. It is another thing entirely to know that a king or a God has chosen to do this.

It is easier to understand why the world requires a loving and compassionate king, a king who soothes us when we fall, a king who embraces us when we are lonely, a king who kisses our wounds to make the pain go away. Who wouldn’t want to have this kind of a king? But I believe Jesus came not merely to act as life’s panadol, a painkiller, for us. Jesus came to show us how God must ultimately be lord and master of our lives, there lies our salvation.

The world is in need of a king who calls and challenges them to greatness rather than mediocrity. The world is in need of king who gives them a chance to experience the perfection and the holiness of the divine rather than just being satisfied with our human weakness. The world is in need of a king who demands a radical self-giving and loving and not only when it suits us. The world needs a king to inspire us, not a king who looks and behaves just like us.

Today, in our attempt to make God and the divine more accessible, for example, by transforming the sanctuaries of our churches into empty spaces barren of beauty, in the removal of communion rails, in the singing of music that approximates the kind of music we listen to in our daily mundane existence, there is something about the character of the liturgy that is lost – we loose focus of the object of our liturgy, which is to worship God. In place of this, man is worshipped in his stead. But it is not just liturgy which suffers. Christian life suffers too when we choose to depict Christ merely as an ordinary Joe. There is no challenge to aim for loftier goals. At the end of the day, when Christ becomes ordinary, he will soon be forgotten, since he only acts as a functional implement or tool whenever we need him.

As a priest friend of mine once said, “if we erase the distance, wipe away the blood and hide the painful suffering of the crucifixion and demythologise the divinity of Christ, we sanitise the image of our King to the point of an empty symbol.” We have reduced Christ to a mere panacea or an intoxicant that serves to make us feel good in our otherwise miserable existence. But, this is Christ, King of the Universe, the one whom we must subject ourselves to. This is Christ, the Judge, who will call us to account for our actions, and who would demand evidence that we had recognised him in his people. This is Christ, our Lord and God, who chooses to come among us,God who becomes man in order that men may become gods. This is Christ who inspires us and reminds that we are made in his image and likeness, a royal priestly people called to give glory to God. Let us not make the mistake of reducing him into nothing more than an image of ourselves.