Inspired Flash Mob

Pentecost Year B

Have you ever seen a flash mob? A flash mob is a group of people who assemble suddenly in a public place, perform an unusual and seemingly pointless act for a brief time, then disperse, often for the purposes of entertainment, satire, and artistic expression. So you can see flash mobs in shopping centres, food courts, public parks, pedestrian walkways and just about any area which is open to the public. The venue is important both for the purposes of a ready audience as well as providing the actors or participants of the flash mob with an easy exit, as they blend in innocuously with the public before and after the item has been performed.

But the word ‘mob’ attached to the above phenomenon does not always possess such a neutral or even positively innocent connotation. More often than not mobs have been associated with less desirable activities. The word ‘mob’ is derived from the Latin phrase, “mobile vulgus” which literally translates as ‘fickle commoners.’ Thus, a mob refers to a crowd of people, a large and definable group of people usually associated with the lower classes or commoners. Since the crowd was considered unthinking and even fickle, their behaviour could oscillate from innocently harmless activities to one which could turn violent. The angry mob has come to be synonymous with destruction, violence, looting and anarchy. The recent BERSIH rally which was intended as a peaceful assembly pressing for electoral reforms was painted by the powers-that-be as dangerous mob rule.  

Given the ambivalence of the term and the nature of the mob, it is no wonder why many would choose to stay away. Malaysians have long been notoriously known for their political passivity. We were never known in the past to participate in mass demonstrations, street rallies, and public sit downs. These were things that happened in other countries but not here. It’s not that we lack political awareness. We are ever ready to discuss politics and even express dissent as long as these are done within the safety of our homes and private coffee shop discussions among known friends. The online world of the internet has also allowed us to participate in heavy political discussions as long as we are able to hide behind innocuous pseudonyms. The need for self-preservation and the fear of recriminations from the authority have led us to seek shelter behind the privacy and security of closed doors and upper rooms as in the case of the disciples in today’s first reading and gospel.  

Of course things have changed in recent years. Public rallies and demonstrations are not just confined to small groups of social activists. The recent BERSIH rally has proven that the common man and woman and even those from the middle and upper classes are prepared to emerge from the safety of their guarded communities to risk detention, and even face the force of riot police and their paraphernalia. But in spite of these changes, Christians or at least Catholic remain frighten in coming out to share their faith.

Today’s first reading account of the story of the Pentecost from the Acts of the Apostles, where the apostles suddenly emerge from their upper room and revealed themselves to the public would possibly appear similar to this mob phenomenon. But the similarity ends here. The power of the Holy Spirit would set the Pentecost event apart from any flash mob, public rally or demonstration. Here, we witness not the triumph of the human spirit but the victory of the divine. No force nor fear, no obstacle could suppress the power of the Holy Spirit which exploded from that upper room.

Both the first reading and the Gospel begin with the disciples gathered in prayer. They are enclosed in a room - probably the same upper room where they celebrated the Last Supper. The upper room and closed doors betray their fears. But while praying, the Holy Spirit comes upon them. When the Holy Spirit comes, a change occurs. They are "sent." They go out to preach publicly, to heal and to reconcile men with God. They have a mission. From men cowering in fear and hiding behind the security of the four walls of that room, they now reach forth, inspired, enthused to proclaim the good news of the Risen Lord.   

Unlike a flash mob or other rallies, where strangers emerge from oblivion and disappear into oblivion after having accomplished the purpose for which they had gathered, the Pentecost Christians could no longer slip back into anonymity, they could no longer hide behind the indistinguishable nameless crowd. The Pentecost experience had now sealed its participants with a new relationship, a new covenant, so binding that it transformed them not just individually but also corporately. They were now linked by the gift of the Spirit and the faith they professed in the Risen Christ. And this link though reflecting an inner reality, the presence of the Holy Spirit in their lives, must always find public expression. Christians are not those who hide from the limelight. No one lights a lamp and places it beneath a basket. Christians on fire with the Spirit are called to public witness and continue telling the story of Jesus to everyone.

What does the power of the Spirit produce in this group of disparate strangers? Where there are divisions and estrangement he creates unity and understanding. The Spirit triggers a process of reunification of the divided and dispersed parts of the human family; persons, often reduced to individuals in competition or in conflict with each other, reached by the Spirit of Christ, open themselves to the experience of communion, can involve them to such an extent as to make of them a new organism, a new subject: the Church. This is the effect of God’s work: unity; thus unity is the sign of recognition, or as Pope Benedict has written, the “business card” of the Church in the course of her universal history. From the very beginning, from the day of Pentecost, she speaks the Gospel of Christ in all languages.

Thus the miracle of tongues was not just the manifestation of glossolalia, the language of angels. It was targeted not at angels but to mortals. Its purpose was to build bridges between cultures and to heal the rift that had torn humanity into warring nations, competing communities, hostile enemies. The curse of the Tower of Babel would now be removed with the blessing of Pentecost. The unity of the Spirit is now manifested in the plurality of understanding. Differences in language, culture and background would no longer be an excuse for division. The Church cuts across all barriers and differences, drawing all into its communion, whilst respecting the diversity of its parts.

We celebrate this Feast every year, so that we can be reminded of our communal identity as Church. The Church owes its success not to the works of men but the Work of God. Without the Spirit, our human endeavours and projects risk failure. Without the Spirit, we constantly have to contend with the spectre and shadow of crippling fear which lurks closely often tempting us to withdraw into the false security of our closed doors and upper rooms. Without the Spirit, the work of building unity within our families, our BECs, our parishes, our dioceses and in the universal Church would be futile. Without the Spirit, our voices would be lost and drowned by the cacophony of noises from the world and the prevalent culture of our times. Without the Spirit, we will condemned to silence and the fire of Pentecost would be snuffed out.

The success and failure of a flash mob or a public rally often depends on various factors: planning, effective communication, good coordination, team work, courage and the audacity to stand out publicly to make a statement. The success and failure of the Spirit driven Church born on Pentecost day, on the other hand, depends on prayer and our fidelity to the mission that has been entrusted to us. On this Pentecost day, we remember the two things that are essential for the life of the Church: prayer and mission. At the heart of the Church is prayer, a prayer which does not close us in but opens us to the world. Prayer is the beginning of mission because it is through the power of prayer that we open ourselves to the Holy Spirit, the life giving force of Christians and the Church. Christians today must remember that by virtue of our baptism, by virtue of the Pentecost event, we are all called to be members of a flash mob, not just to perform some fleeting unusual and pointless activity, but to be witnesses of the gospel of Christ to the world. We have been set on fire so that we may set the world on fire. There is no ambivalence in this, only certainty of our faith!

We got to pray, just to make it today!

Seventh Sunday of Easter Year B

Remember MC Hammer, that rapper artist who made it big in the late 80s and who gave a new definition to big baggy pants – his looked rather like two helium balloons encasing his legs. His single most successful hit was ironically entitled, ‘Pray.’ Like other rapper artist, MC Hammer was never known for his humility. His songs often fed his inflated ego and spoke of exaggerated personal achievements that towered over others. The hubris of the artist and the lyrics were often the selling points. But in this single hit, he highlighted the reason for his unexpected success. The answer was found in the refrain that littered the whole song, “We got to pray, just to make it today.”

Jesus isn’t a proficient rapper by any standard but seems to agree with the logic of the above song, “We got to pray, just to make it today!” In today’s gospel, we hear him praying to the Father in this magnificent prayer recorded in Chapter 17 of John’s Gospel. Throughout the Last Supper Discourse and as Jesus and his disciples make their way to Gethsemane, Jesus continues to speak to His disciples, preparing them for the future, and assuring them of His provision for all their needs in His absence. At one moment, He is teaching His disciples, and at the next, He is praying to the Father. John 17 contains the inspired record of our Lord’s prayer to the Father. In the fifth century, St Clement of Alexandria remarked that in this prayer, Jesus was acting as a high priest on behalf of His people. Thus earning it the name – ‘The High Priestly Prayer of Jesus.’

The High-priestly prayer is divided into three parts. The first part (verses 1-5) speaks of Jesus’ own relationship with the Father. The second part (verses 6-19), which is what you had heard in today’s gospel reading, speaks of Christ and his disciples. The third part (verses 20-26) deals with the relationship of Christ and His Church. By stringing these themes together, Jesus presents to us a powerful model for prayer, or rather the attitude or presuppositions we must have as the premise for our prayer.

The first presupposition that is made is that glory and suffering are not mutually exclusive. Jesus speaks of himself being glorified by the Father. The manner of his glorification, the manner of his ‘enthronement’, the manner in which he will come to have authority over death and the power of evil is none other than the Way of the Cross. Jesus’ suffering and sacrifice on the cross will be his glory, and through his self-giving act, God Himself will be glorified. This seems strangely at odds with our notions of prayer. We often pray when we find ourselves in a difficult situation where we are unable to extricate ourselves through our own resources. We pray that suffering will go away and not the reverse. But the prayer of Jesus does not deny the reality of suffering. On the contrary, the prayer transforms the cross from a symbol of pain, humiliation and failure to one of joy, glory and victory. Christians do not pray away sufferings. Suffering, hardship and the cross are inevitable. We pray, however, that we may find glory in enduring our crosses so that God may be glorified. We pray that we may be united with Christ in the Paschal Mystery, the mystery of our salvation. We pray not just for temporary relief. We pray for eternal salvation.

The second presupposition of the High Priestly Prayer is that it assumes the sovereignty of God in the salvation and keeping of men. Man’s welfare or rather his salvation is God’s principal priority. It is God who provides leadership as we have seen in the first reading. In the gospel, Jesus prays in such manner because he understands and is convinced that it is God who lays the foundation for communities. It is God who provides the mortar to the Church for its unity. It is God who protects us from adversity. It is God who saves us, keeps us, cares for us and liberates us. Without God, none of this would be possible. Thus, any prayer should begin with this firm conviction and faith that it has already been answered by God in the best way possible.

The problem is that our prayers are often worded in a way where we have inserted a caveat or fail-save clause which betrays our lack of trust in God’s providence on the one hand, and a greater trust in our own devices on the other. Sometimes you hear people saying, “We’ve done all we can. The only thing we can do now is to pray.” We popularise clichéd statements like this “God helps those who help themselves,” treating them as if they were biblically inspired. Ultimately, these statements and beliefs are based on the premise that it falls principally on man to work out his own salvation and only when he has exhausted his resources, should he then rely on God. Therefore God would only be the second or last resort.

We often turn to human machinations and try to brainstorm alternative solutions when faced with a crisis. What more can we do to promote vocations to the priesthood? How can we be more creative in attracting the young to religious life? How can we work on the unity of our members? How can we convince more people to come to our BECs? We place greater faith on our structural abilities than on the power of prayer. To dare to suggest that we pray is to suggest that we don’t have a back up plan. Therefore, many people often think that prayer is meant for those who are just not clever enough to solve their problems on their own, those who cannot resort to their rationality. We think that prayer is not for the strong. This explains why devotion before the Blessed Sacrament is never filled with men. Because men often pride themselves as rational beings, as Mr Fix it and Fix all. So we tend to stereotype that prayer is meant only for old women, for the sick, and particularly for the weak – for those who have no recourses to any other solution except in God.

There is a time for prayer and there is a time for action. But action often seems more tangible and dependable than prayer. In the recent BERSIH Rally, where Malaysians from every walk of life came together to ask for fair and clean elections, we will find ourselves celebrating over the power of man’s ability and potential to change his destiny. Given the euphoria of the participants and supporters, to even suggest that we should pray first seems like a cowardly a cop out. Today, your worth would be based on your power to act and not your ability to pray.

Today, we are challenged to make this paradigm shift to make prayer our first priority. Prayer is never a sign of weakness but rather of strength. Prayer acknowledges that it is ultimately God who chooses leaders, call vocations, form communities, protect us from adversity, bring changes and allow us to love beyond what is humanly possible. Prayer should never be the last resort but the first thing we do in any situation. We must pray with the confidence that our Loving God has already answered our prayers. Though the outcome may differ from what we may conceive, we are assured that God’s decision and God’s action will always best the very best of human solutions. Just remember, “We got to pray, just to make it today!”

Look Down, Look Ahead

Ascension Year B

If you have ever travelled to Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon of South Vietnam) or a read a travel advisory, you would know that one of the highlights of your tour should be a trip to the Cu Chi Tunnel Memorial Park. As innocent (or ticklish-ly cute) as the name of the park may sound, the tunnels were built for a more sinister purpose. The tunnels of Củ Chi are an immense network of connecting underground tunnels located north of Ho Chi Minh City and are part of a much larger network of tunnels that underlie much of the country. The tunnels were used by Viet Cong (Vietnamese Communist) guerrillas as hiding spots during combat, as well as serving as communication and supply routes, hospitals, food and weapon caches and living quarters for numerous guerrilla fighters. The tunnel systems were of great importance to the Viet Cong in their resistance to American forces, and helped achieve ultimate military success.

During my first trip to Ho Chi Minh City, I was taken on a tour of one of the larger excavated tunnels. We were warned by our guide to look up at the ceiling of the tunnel and to watch our heads. Taking the advice to heart, I forgot to watch where I was stepping until it was too late. And then my foot hit a soft landing, a substance that felt wet and squishy, and which emitted an all too familiar odour. It was dog’s pooh. It seems that in our excitement to look upwards, we failed to look down.   

Christianity is often seen as a life-denying religion – a religion that is only focused on life after death and one which encourages its followers to avoid their earthly responsibilities. Christians are often accused of having their heads in the clouds, for looking upwards without having any care for what is below. On the other hand, many people live as if there is no life after death. They believe that everything must find a final resolution or closure within this life. They search to better their lives by looking for or constructing an earthly Shangri-la or Utopia here below.

This is a far cry from the message of the Feast which we celebrate today. The ascension does not lead us to focus only on heavenly existence whilst ignoring earthly life. We need to look upwards, but we must never forgot to look down too. “Why are you standing here looking up into the sky,” the two men dressed in white, presumably angels, which you would find at the end of today’s first reading ask this of the apostles who were still gazing up into the sky long after Jesus had departed from their sight. Perhaps, they were rooted to that site in disbelief, a kind of denial that Jesus had actually departed. In any event, the angels’ caution was a reminder that their sky-gazing activities should not distract or detract them from their mission. Whilst applying themselves to their mission on earth, they should also not lose sight of the eschatological event – that Jesus will one day return. In other words, we should not only look at what is immediately before us, but also ahead of us. Within this single scene, we can come to the conclusion that Christianity brings together both ethical obligations and missionary responsibilities that are tied to our existence here on earth as well as every Christian’s hopeful expectation of the Last Things – the Parousia or Second Coming of Christ, death, judgment, heaven and hell.

In the early decades of Christianity, many Christians sincerely believed that the world was going to end with the return of Christ in their lifetime. This led to an entire spectrum, a variety of lifestyles and behaviour. Some stopped working for they thought that their days were numbered and should therefore be better spent in prayer and vigilance for the Lord’s imminent coming. This resulted in economic crises in families. There were others who felt that since the world was coming to an end, it would therefore be best to spend the remainder of our lives in purely hedonistic activities – debauchery, drinking, partying and fulfilling every particular need of the flesh. In many of Paul’s letters, we see him frantically trying to correct this misunderstanding on the part of Christians and to remind them that their new life in Christ and in the Spirit had serious moral implications. In any event, they should continue their daily business and apply themselves to the missionary responsibility and commitment to the community.

This feast, therefore, reminds us to pay attention to the way we live our present earthly lives so that this can be perfected in our heavenly life. Rather than a denial of life, earthly responsibilities and commitments, today’s feast challenges us to affirm this life and recommit ourselves to our responsibilities, especially our responsibilities to our fellow brothers and sisters. St. Paul, in today’s second reading, writes to us: “I … implore you to lead a life worthy of your vocation. Bear with one another charitably, in complete selflessness, gentleness and patience. Do all you can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that binds you together.”  Our responsibilities include the mission to evangelise. Before ascending to heaven, Jesus left his disciples and the Church this mission: “Go out to the whole world, proclaim the Good News to all creation.” It is the good news of the Kingdom of God.

Although we are asked to proclaim the Kingdom of God through our words and actions here and now, we must not deceive ourselves by thinking that we can replicate heaven on earth. We must not confuse our present temporary existence with the eternal life promised by Christ to his believers. In the early age of Christianity, some Christians also grew impatient in waiting for Christ’s second coming. They felt weighed down by the trials and tribulations of their lives. They faced persecution from outside the church and conflict within the church. They were beginning to lose faith in God because they had lost hope in Christ returning to save them. In the face of such difficulties, we often find ourselves being blinded by our fears and anxieties, by the weight of present sufferings and trials. We are unable to see the light of God’s final act of redeeming humanity and recreating the world. Short term and seemingly achievable goals that provide temporary relief replace long term ones that promise salvation. Our vision becomes narrowed to the point of spiritual myopia.

This was the problem of the disciples in today’s first reading. When they asked Jesus whether the time had come for the restoration of the kingdom of Israel, their focus was only on building an earthly kingdom, a kingdom confined to their ethnic identity. But the event of the Ascension leads them to understand that the kingdom of God is much broader than any vision of an earthly paradise that could be achieved in this life or even in the future to come. The kingdom of God would only come to its perfection at the end of time, when God recreates the whole of the universe in Jesus Christ. This, however, does not release us from our present responsibilities but rather challenges us to constantly work for the Kingdom of God throughout our earthly lives. We will never be able to create a perfect society in our lifetime, therefore the need to always work for the betterment of society, the healing of relationships and the promotion of justice, love and peace in this world. Keeping our gaze on the bigger picture, on the Kingdom of God, allows us to rise above any setbacks, failures and disappointments. We are only able to see a small part of the picture. Our personal failure is not to be translated as ultimate failure which would be disastrous. In fact, our faith and hope informs us that our victory is already assured. The Ascension is our assurance of this.

Today, as we reflect on this feast of the Ascension, let us not look into the sky and be lost in the clouds like the disciples in today’s first reading. Rather, let us recommit ourselves to the mission which Christ has entrusted to us, here and now. But, let us also not be to too concern with our human pursuits that we lose sight of God’s kingdom and Christ coming at the end of time, for then we will only substitute the promise of heaven with a poor imitation here below.

Love: Remain and Observe

Sixth Sunday of Easter Year B

 

If it was as if we just didn’t have enough on the topic of ‘love,’ which was substantially dished out in large sumptuous portions last Sunday, we are treated to its sequel this week. In last week’s gospel and this week’s, we find the word ‘remain’ ten times. To some, the repetition seems overdone; a tautological instrument inserted by the author perhaps to just fill up space. Whereas for others, the oft used word is capable of leading us into a more profound reflection on the topic of ‘love. Just as the branches must remain a part of the vine in order to bear fruit, remaining with the Lord is the fundamental first theme of this week’s gospel. But to remain where? In love, in the love of Christ, in being loved and in loving the Lord.

To understand the meaning of the word ‘remain’ and its context, one needs to return to last week’s gospel, where Jesus presented the parable of the vine. The vine is an Old Testament image which we find in the Prophets and in Psalms, and has a double meaning: it refers both to God as well as to his People. But here emerges the second meaning: the vine is a symbol of spousal love, an expression of the joy of love that springs from fidelity. “Steadfast love” and “faithfulness” are two qualities that are often found together in the Old Testament to describe God. God enters into a covenant, a relationship of no meager proportions, and an unprecedented union with his People. What we have here is not just some flitting superficial relationship, but one which will survive the test of time and tribulations, one which will endure across the centuries, one that will not be rescinded even in the face of infidelity.

But then, we all know the story of the Bible. As much as it is tale that eulogises the fidelity of God, the Bible is equally a story that recounts the infidelity of the People whom God had chosen as his own. Man chooses and attempts to break the bond which is unbreakable. He wants a life that is autonomous and independent of God. And due to his transgressions, the vineyard is devastated, the wild boar and enemies invade and violates its parameters. But God does not give up: God finds a new way to arrive at a free and irrevocable love, to the fruit of this love, to the true grape: God becomes man, and thus, he himself becomes the root of the vine, he himself becomes the vine which is therefore indestructible. The people of God cannot be destroyed because God himself has entered into their experience and existence, he implanted himself on this earth. God has introduced the indestructible mortar into the foundation of this vine, Christ himself. Thus, we come to understand that fidelity in any relationship is not a personal moral choice but derives its efficacy from its true source, the God who is ever faithful. In order that one remains faithful in loving, one must remain in love, in Jesus who is God’s Love Incarnate.

To “remain” is not the only imperative we find in this passage. ‘Remaining’ leads to the second imperative that is to “observe.” It must be noted that "observe" is only found at the second level - the first is still "remain," the ontological level. It is not we who must produce this great fruit called love. We do not create love through our observance of the commandments. On the contrary, the ability to observe the commandments flows from our fundamental relationship of ‘remaining’ with God. It is not we who have to do what God expects of the world, but we must enter, above all, into this ontological mystery: God has given himself. God’s act of loving us precedes our action of loving him. In the second reading, St John eloquently speaks of this divine initiative of love – “In this is love: not that we have loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as expiation for our sins.” Love is not defined by our feeble attempts but by the fundamental act of God towards us, an act that cannot be separated from his Being, from his Self – both the act and the actor is Love. And we who are drawn into this dynamic reality become part of that Love too.

The second imperative to “observe” all the commandments seems oddly out of sync with the first one, which calls us to “remain” in Christ’s love. We often associate the observance of commandments or the law as restrictions unnecessarily and unjustly placed upon a person, and thus appears to be the ante-thesis of love which we associate with freedom. And yet here, Jesus by juxtaposing these two imperatives, remind us that observance of the law is a natural consequence of remaining in love. One flows from the other. One demonstrates the other. Ethics is a consequence of being.

Thus, morality is not just a set of obligations and rules that derives its authority from outside of us. We do not have to obey a law laid down before us, a law that is external to us, but we only need to act in accordance with our identity. As beings rooted in the love of God, it is in our very nature and purpose to obey his commandments. Thus, it is no longer obedience, an external thing, but a realization of the gift of our new being. To truly love, one finds no contradiction in observing commandments. Disobedience, on the other hand, denies this identity. St John confronts the real contradiction in our lives when we profess to love God but refuse to obey his commandments; we love God but hate our neighbor. It is tantamount to claiming that one can bear fruit whilst living apart from the vine. For Christ, loving God is synonymous with observing and obeying his commandments.

Having introduced the theme of love through these two common but deeply profound words, to “remain” and to “observe”, Christ now presents the Commandment which summarises all others – the new Commandment of love - "Love one another as I love you.” Christ presents his catechesis on love not by outlining a structure of actions, obligations and duties. If it was so, it would be pure moralism. He presents his catechesis in the form of personal testimony. What is so radically new about this new Commandment is not the level of heroic action that a Christian must do, but what Christ himself as done. The novelty or newness of the Commandment transfers the standard and point of reference from the individual Christian to that of Christ himself. It is Christ who has given us himself, took on our human nature, and finally given his life on the cross for us. As the gospel tells us, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."

And so the novelty is the gift, the great gift, and from this gift, from its novelty follows new action. Christ, fully human and fully divine, accomplished what was humanly impossible. St. Thomas Aquinas says it in a more precise manner when he writes: "The new law is the grace of the Holy Spirit" (Summa theologiae, I-IIae, q. 106, a. 1). The new law is not a new command more difficult than others: the new law is a gift, the new law is the presence of the Holy Spirit given to us in the Sacrament of Baptism, in Confirmation, and given us daily in the Eucharist.

Let us thank God for the greatness of his love, let us pray that he may help us to grow in his love, and truly remain in his love. For this is love – not our gift to Him but His gift to us. This is love, not just some passionately feverish moment of altruism but one that is characterized by fidelity and obedience; one that prepares us to lay down our lives for our friends. We can do so only because Christ has done so.

Love Means Being Rooted in Christ

Fifth Sunday of Easter Year B

 

Love is the most misunderstood word in our vocabulary. It has often been used to describe an emotion of strong affection and personal attachment. But it would be naïve to believe that love is nothing more than just a feeling. Love has an essence that resists defining in any single way. Love reaches beyond romance and embraces us in all walks of life as we encounter one another and make choices about respecting and caring for each other. When you try to ask someone to define love, it seems almost impossible without having to resort to some example or another. In other words, love expresses itself in actions and decisions or as St. John puts it in today’s second reading: “Our love is not to be just words or mere talk, but something real and active.”For many people the main trademark of Christianity is the love which it preaches. “Love one another as I have love you.” This is the great commandment of Jesus. However, we are also aware that many non-Christians accuse us Christians of not practicing what we preach. There is some truth in this.

But there is another element that is necessary to complete the definition of love. It not just a missing necessary part of the equation, but perhaps the sum thereof. For us Christians, love can never be understood unless we understand it in relation to God. In the first encyclical issued by Pope Benedict XVI at the start of his pontificate, ‘Deus Caritas Est’ (God is Love), our learned Pope expounded how the love of God serves as the primary foundation for Christian ethos. He begins the encyclical with a passage from 1 Jn (4:16) - “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him.” According to him these words express with remarkable clarity the heart of the Christian faith: the Christian image of God and the resulting image of mankind and its destiny. It is also in these words the Christian can express the fundamental decision of his life. Being Christian is not the result of an ethical choice or a lofty idea, but the encounter with an event, a person, which gives life a new horizon and a decisive direction.” Thus to be a Christian, to be in love, one must be radically rooted to the person of Jesus, Love Incarnate.

There is nothing mediocre about loving. It is fundamentally the most radical decision or act which man is capable of. The word ‘radical’, however, often frighten us as it evokes images of terrorists and violent ideologues and fundamentalists who are incessantly closed to the ideas and worldviews which appear contrary to theirs. Little, do we realise that the word ‘radical’ has a special significance for us Christians. The etymological origin of the word ‘radical’ is the Latin ‘radix’ which means root. Catholics are essentially radical because they are called to be rooted in Christ. The gospel tells us that Christ is the Vine and we are the branches. Jesus tells us: “whoever remains in me, with me in him, bears fruit in plenty; for cut off from me you can do nothing.” Thus Christian love is essentially being rooted in Christ, who is “the Incarnate Love of God.”

Unless we are rooted in Christ, we will bear no fruits. Unless, we are grafted into Christ, we will not have life. It is impossible to attempt loving on our own. Love is only impossible if we are rooted in the love of God. We can only love another person unconditionally if we love him with the love of God. Many people attempt to love others on their own. They think that they can will themselves to love another person. They feel that they do not need God or even if he is considered, God is merely an addendum or a footnote in their lives. Any attempt at loving others in the absence of God will always be a feeble attempt. Many marriages fail and relationships breakdown for this very reason. Most people, even Christians, believe that marriage is just a human contract between two persons. Very few acknowledge that God is part of the bond of the marriage, what more the seal and guarantee of indissolubility and unity.

We may constantly use and flaunt the word “love” without realising that we are trivialising it. Very often, what we take for ‘love is actually another name for self-interest. We express care and concern for the other person, but often expecting to receive something in return. This isn’t love, or at least not in the Christian sense of the word. Love is being able to care for the other person, give everything we have for the other person, without expecting anything in return. Only God is capable of this. Therefore, in order to be able to love as God loves us, we must first be rooted in God.

Our celebration of the Eucharist celebrates this radical relationship between the Christian and Christ himself in the act of life-giving and loving sacrifice. The Eucharist is a memorial, a re-presentation, of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, his self-giving. By sharing in the Body and Blood of Christ, the Church, Christians, therefore share in this selfless act of giving. Pope Benedict in his encyclical on ‘love’ explains that this mystical union found in Eucharistic communion has a social dimension. “Union with Christ is also union with all those to whom he gives himself. I cannot possess Christ just for myself; I can belong to him only in union with all those who have become, or who will become, his own. Communion draws me out of myself towards him, and thus also towards unity with all Christians. We become “one body”, completely joined in a single existence. Love of God and love of neighbour are now truly united…”

The allegory of the vine and branches also introduces another dimension to our reflection on love. Love is dynamic, it is never static. Love is never “finished” and complete; throughout life, it changes and matures, and thus remains faithful to itself. Man is often tempted to believe that love never changes; there is an expectation of stability and predictability. And thus, when relationships actually do change, the constant complaint one hears is this,” He has changed. …She has changed.” But the truth of the matter is that love will change, or rather it grows.

Love, however, does not mean the absence of conflict. Love does not mean that everyone has to like us. There are times when we choose to love with God’s love, even though the other person may not appreciate our love. There are times the loving thing to do would make the other person angry with us. In today’s first reading, we hear of how Paul, then known as Saul, went around “preaching fearlessly in the name of the Lord”. He preached the gospel of the Lord out of love for the people. He preached the gospel of the Lord because he was rooted in Christ. But not everyone was happy with him. Some even went to the extent of wanting to kill him. Love means doing the right thing, the truthful thing and the loving thing even when it makes us unpopular.

In today’s mass, let us pray for the grace to be more rooted in Christ. But there is no place for mediocrity in Christianity. You must be radical, in your attachment to Christ. Shallow Christians cop out at the slightest hint of danger or difficulty. Therefore, it is not easy to be a Christian or to love as He did. But we must remember the words of Jesus, “every branch that does bear fruit he prunes to make it bear even more.” In spite of the obstacles and difficulties we will face as Christians, we believe that God is pruning us and making us stronger so that we will be better witnesses of his love to a world that will continually thirsts and hungers for love.