House of Bread

Christmas Mass During the Night

The gospel reading which we had just heard acts like a telescope. It begins by enlarging our field of vision by situating the story of Christmas within the larger story of human history featuring important luminaries, a Roman emperor and a provincial governor. Although, these may have been important figures in history, they are not the focus of our story. The telescope then contracts and becomes a microscope. A tiny place that wouldn’t have appeared on any radar or map is magnified. We are given an ‘up close and personal’ view of the most ground-breaking climatic event in human history - it is the story of how God, the Lord of Lords and King of Kings, is born in an obscure backward village at the fringes of the great and glorious Roman empire.

And then the storyline takes us from this tiny point of space and time, to the fields beyond this village and our vision is expanded once again to take in the whole host of heaven. We suddenly realise that our world and all its inhabitants, even the strongest and most powerful, are tiny specks of space dust in comparison to the immense universe, what more to the Most High God who created the stars and the heavens and who now chooses to hide in the flesh of a human child. No telescope nor microscope can detect, nor genius mind can wrap its head around this amazing phenomenon. You need another set of lenses to perceive and comprehend this. The lens of faith.

This is the mystery of Christmas - that the greatest gifts often come in small packages. Let’s be honest. Our ordinary experience of Christmas is nothing like this. Have you ever looked under the Christmas tree to inspect still-wrapped gifts and assessed the worth of their hidden treasures by size, shape and weight? As a child, I used to think, “the bigger, the better.” But over the years, I’ve discovered the wonderful reality that big things come in small packages. This couldn’t be truer as we celebrate the birth of our great King born as a tiny baby.

Our big story begins in a small place - in Bethlehem. It is understandable why Bethlehem had not appeared on the map of any geopolitical significance due to her size but she had also not been the subject of any major prophecy, with the exception of one. Micah, a contemporary of Isaiah, spoke God’s word to Israel at a time of great danger. Due to the sin of both Samaria (the northern kingdom of Israel) and Judah (the southern kingdom), the Israelites would suffer a devastating attack. Both the North and eventually the South would fall, and the ancient kingdom of Israel would be no more.

Into this dark, dangerous world Micah spoke not only words of judgment but of hope. This hope centres on this humble place: “Bethlehem Ephrathah, you are small among the clans of Judah; One will come from you to be ruler over Israel for Me. His origin is from antiquity, from eternity.” (Micah 5:2) Rather than hailing from mighty Rome, the so-called Eternal City, or Holy Jerusalem, where God’s own House - the Temple - was located, the Saviour-King would come from humble, seemingly insignificant and tiny Bethlehem.

It is in this small, ordinary village that we see the prophecy fulfilled, God’s love is manifested and His plan of salvation is revealed to us. Although, the parents of our Lord lived in Nazareth in Galilee, He was born in Bethlehem, not Nazareth, apparently according to the dictates of Roman rule. By the designs of divine providence, the empire is placed at the service of salvation. Had Jesus been born in a great city, men would have attributed his teaching or his success to his noble birth. But by being born in Bethlehem, He allows us to more easily discern that the power of God, rather than the power of men, is at work.

So, far from the corridors of power, Jesus Christ, descended from David through His adoptive father, Joseph, was born in Bethlehem. God Himself came to rule and rescue. He looked unimpressive. His birthplace was inauspicious. But this is always God’s way: through the weak and foolish message of the cross comes rescue from sin. Notice how God’s majesty and reputation are not diminished or compromised at all by introducing Jesus into the world through such a seemingly small place and inconvenient circumstances. Unlike humanity, God is never tempted to show off. Even in the simple birthplace of the eternal King of the Universe, God has allowed Himself to be approachable by all, especially the ordinary and small.

In Hebrew, Beth-lehem is two words and means “house” (Beth) and “bread” (lehem). Bethlehem literally means “house of bread.” It has this name of its location in the grain producing region of Old Testament times. Because of the fertility of its soil, which in Biblical times produced an abundance of grain and produce, the region surrounding Bethlehem was called Ephrathah. Ephrathah means “fruitful, abundant.” An appropriate birthplace for the One who, in stark contrast to emperors and kings, came to feed His people. Thus, St. Bede says, “The place he was born is rightly called ‘The House of Bread’ because he came down from heaven to earth to give us the food of heavenly life and to satisfy us with eternal sweetness.” The Bread of Life, lying in a manger, a feeding trough, in the House of Bread. It was in this town with such an evocative name that the One was born who said, “I am the bread which came down from heaven” and, “I am the bread of life.”

Our Lord’s birth in the manger of Bethlehem happened only once, but the even more powerful event of His offering of Himself in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass occurs over and over again, day in and day out, from the rising of the sun to its setting. Once, He hid in “a baby wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” Now He hides in the form of Bread and Wine which we partake at the altar. For this child born in Bethlehem was no ordinary mortal nor even a great hero. The last part of Micah’s prophecy provides us with the clue as to His true identity: “His origin is from antiquity, from eternity.” The prophet is hinting that Jesus’ origins are not just Davidic but divine. He is God the Son, and as God, He has no beginning. He has always existed. His origin is not only from antiquity but also “from eternity.” This is what the angels announced to the shepherds in the fields: “Today in the town of David a saviour has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord,” and with them let us praise God singing: “Glory to God in the highest heaven, and peace to men who enjoy his favour.”

Blessed is she

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year C

If you pray the Holy Rosary regularly, you would immediately recognise that the Joyful Mystery of Mary’s Visitation to her cousin Elizabeth comes immediately after the Annunciation and before the Nativity of our Lord, Christmas. It is therefore not surprising to have the gospel for this Sunday focusing on this story of the meeting of these two women. But more importantly, it was the first meeting between the sons they were carrying within their wombs, the cousins Jesus and John the Baptist. And less the audience were to forget them as they nestled not so quietly within their mothers’ wombs, hidden and off-camera, the text throws light on them to ensure that we do not forget that the entire story would be theirs, and less of their mothers.

Elizabeth would take on a prophetic role by announcing what is really taking place behind the scene. The hand of God is at work even as mortals play out the drama of human relations and emotions. Elizabeth inspired by the Holy Spirit declares and pronounces a series of blessings - two addressed to Mary, and one to the child within her womb. This is not the Beatitude of the Sermon on the Mount found in Matthew’s gospel nor the set found in the Sermon on the plain in Luke’s. Nevertheless, Elizabeth uses the Greek word which also translates into “happy” which we would find in both sets of beatitudes - makarios. Here it is translated as “blessed.”

“Makarios” was derived from two root words: “mak”, to become large, and “charis”, grace. For, one who is blessed has been enlarged, or magnified, by grace. It was, therefore, a word reserved for the elite, and then only the crème de la crème. During the classical Greek era, makarios described the status of the gods, emphasising their power and wealth. At times, it also described the state of the dead, since through death they had now arrived at the world of the gods. They were beyond the cares and worries common to the living, and now enjoyed the company of the gods. But during our Lord’s era, the word makarios was used to describe those who had everything money could buy – those who lived like the gods. They were enjoying the personal satisfaction of their achievements, the height of socio-economic status, the best political connections, and the wealth of enduring and enriching personal relationships. Makarios was the supreme blessing. It was synonymous with all the joys of the life hereafter. Thus, it was not a descriptive term thrown around lightly.

And now Elizabeth uses this very concept in various ways.

Firstly, in referring to Mary as most blessed among all women. The Old Testament mentions and even sings praises of several of these women and the gospel of St Matthew even intertwines some of their names into the patrilineal genealogy of our Lord. But Mary stands out among all these women. The next part of Elizabeth’s announcement would give the reason for Mary’s supreme blessedness.

Elizabeth now declares the child within Mary’s womb as “blessed” too but not in the way as Mary is blessed. The blessedness of Mary is ascribed to her by God as it is announced by the Angel Gabriel at the Annunciation. In both the Annunciation and here in the Visitation, Mary is declared to be the mother of the Lord, the Most High God. God is not just blessed or the source of blessedness. The only one truly blessed in Himself is God and Jesus is the incarnate makarios, worthy to receive the threefold declaration of the angels, “holy, holy, holy.”

Elizabeth would conclude her prophetic outburst with a final makarios: “blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.” It is by virtue of her faith and her obedience that Mary is hailed as blessed. The faith of Mary is a light for the whole world, and which will not be put out by night. She was and is a woman of incredible faith, who believed the prophets and trusted the angelic messengers, even when the message seemed beyond human credibility. In this, she serves as an example for us. For, she stands under the promise, even when that promise seems definitively thwarted by the forces of evil. It is under this third use of the word of “Makarios” that we can share in Mary’s blessedness. We too are blessed when we believe in the promises of God, and act upon them.

This is how we should prepare ourselves in the next few days leading up to the great feast of Christmas. We have truly been “blessed”, our grace has been enlarged, our hearts have been emboldened, our hope has been renewed, knowing that the Lord is on His way, not just to visit us but to be one with us, united with us in body and soul, sharing with us His divinity as He humbly shared in our humanity. Instead of all the bad news we may be hearing these days, let the greetings of this holy season bring such joy and peace to us so that we too may leap with joy as the Baptist did in his mother’s womb. And just as Mary believed God, and so Jesus Christ took flesh within her, at this Mass, let us not doubt that Jesus Christ is going to take flesh once more in the Blessed Sacrament and enter each one of us as He entered the body of His Blessed Mother. Let’s ask for the faith truly to believe that this is so—that through this Eucharist, Christ’s Body is united to ours. If we believe in the fulfilment of the promise made to us that He is truly really and substantially present, we are indeed blessed!

Don't Worry! Be Happy!

Third Sunday of Advent Year C

Christmas is just over a week away, and for many the air of excitement is just plain electrifying. For most of us, we can’t wait for it to happen! And yet, this season often ushers a troubling sense of melancholy. For many, they know that this should be a season of rejoicing but it doesn’t always feel this way for one reason or another. The children have left for overseas and the home feels like an empty nest. A particular loved one that had always been part of our annual Christmas celebrations is no longer here and it just doesn’t feel the same. Anxiety building up over the future - rising expenses, financial instabilities, a recently diagnosed ailment that could worsen within weeks and months. The call of today’s liturgy to “rejoice” seems to ring hollow. Is the Church calling us to excite ourselves, some form of self- delusional “syiok sendiri” (self-induced elation)?

The readings exhort, in fact, they command us to rejoice by using an entire list of synonymous verbs to express that exuberance: shout for joy, shout aloud, exult with all your heart, sing and shout for joy, give thanks to the Lord and who can forget St Paul’s “be happy!” In fact, Paul’s words in the second reading sound like that famous song by Bobby McFerrin, “Don’t worry! Be Happy!”

The Joy which the liturgy and readings speak of is not something which comes upon suddenly and instantaneously, like a shot of adrenaline or dopamine. This joy isn’t a sudden outburst. It has been building within us, the closer the Good News has drawn. This is the joy of all the ages bursting and singing forth, building up over the centuries, prophesied by the prophets, announced by St John the Baptist, knowing the Good News that is about to be bestowed upon us all. It can hardly be contained. In fact, it can’t be.

In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah commands Jerusalem to rejoice and gives the reason for it. “The Lord has repealed your sentence; He has driven your enemies away. The Lord, the king of Israel, is in your midst; you have no more evil to fear.” Yes, we should have every reason to rejoice and celebrate because our Lord has forgiven our sins; He has removed the curse of Original Sin that laid like the Sword of Damocles over our heads; He has defeated our enemies - sin, death and the devil. But there is more. Zephaniah adds that God rejoices over us! With gladness! “The Lord your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult with joy over you, He will renew you by His love; He will dance with shouts of joy for you as on a day of festival.” God is rejoicing over us and that should be a great reason if any for us to rejoice.

St Paul in the second reading lays down the reason why he wants us to be happy. Let’s start with the flip side of happiness which is unhappiness. What is the main cause of unhappiness? Paul tells us that it is anxiety - worries. We worry because we lack trust in God. And worry leads to unrest and the lack of peace which eventually leads to unhappiness. And that is the reason why St Paul tells us that the path to happiness is praying and placing our trust in the Lord: “There is no need to worry; but if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving, and that peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.” Notice that Paul doesn’t promise that we will get what we prayed for. Our true reward, the answer to our prayer is the “peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand.”

This is the reason why we can still rejoice when things do not seem to be going our way or according to our plans, when we are facing one crisis or another, when we have suffered loss and are experiencing loneliness and alienation. Because as long as we do not lose faith in God and continue to persevere in pray, the “peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.” Peace is not the absence of conflict or problems. Peace involves presence rather than absence. It comes with the acknowledgement that God is in our midst, “a victorious warrior. He will exult with joy over you, He will renew you by His love; He will dance with shouts of joy for you as on a day of festival.”

And finally, we come to the gospel and the final herald of joy, St John the Baptist. John doesn’t strike us as a Pollyanna-like optimistic figure. In fact, he strikes us as quite the opposite. Solemn, sombre and rigidly kill-joy. Unlike the other two figures we encountered in the first and the second reading, John does not burst forth in a cheer leader’s rallying cry exhorting us to rejoice. On the contrary, he provides strict moral guidance to his audience to share, to avoid greed and intimidation and then uses apocalyptic language of judgment to speak of the One who is coming, one who is superior to John and who “will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing-fan is in his hand to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his barn; but the chaff he will burn in a fire that will never go out.”

The idea of judgment - separation of the wheat from the chaff and the destruction of the latter - does not naturally inspire joy. And yet St Luke describes this message as “good news”! And it is good news because it expresses the fundamental preparatory work of John - calling his listeners to repentance, to separate themselves from the chaff of sin. And before we think of the image of fire pointing to the eternal hell fire which all damned unrepentant souls must endure for eternity, we must also remember that fire represents the Holy Spirit which we receive in Baptism and a greater outpouring at Confirmation. Fire too represents the purgative element of God’s love, refining us, purifying us, restoring us, beautifying us. The prophet Zephaniah alluded to this in the first reading when he prophesied the Lord’s coming into our midst to “renew” us by His love.

So, as the weeks of Advent draw to a close and the days and nights of December lead us closer to that solemn night where our Lord and Saviour was born in the City of David, let us not choose to wallow in self-pity or crippling worries. We are commanded today to rejoice, and we do so not by finding substitutes to Christ in the form of intoxicants or other means of entertainment. Lasting joy cannot be found in any human pursuits but in God alone. He alone gives us the joy we seek.

Take out the trash

Second Sunday of Advent Year C

In most households, this would be the time of the year to get some major heavy-lifting stuff done. As the adults attempt to clear up their remaining leave for the year and the children get time off from their studies, and everyone’s preparing to put up the Christmas decorations, they would take this opportunity to do some Christmas shopping for gifts and new clothes, bake cookies for the upcoming festivities and do some needed spring cleaning. Although these may seem like secular or practical customs bereft of theological meaning, they may have some basis in scripture and the underlying theme for Advent, especially for this Sunday.

Take for example what the prophet Baruch tells the people of Jerusalem in the first reading: “Jerusalem, take off your dress of sorrow and distress, put on the beauty of the glory of God for ever, wrap the cloak of the integrity of God around you, put the diadem of the glory of the Eternal on your head: since God means to show your splendour to every nation under heaven.” Our custom of buying new clothes and having a cosmetic make-over may seem trivial but may actually be a reflexion of this joyful and hopeful spirit expecting God’s definitive and imminent intervention. These words of the prophet are surprising for two reasons. Baruch, who is often associated with his doomsday prophecies and mournful lamentations, departs from that tone to give us an upbeat forecast of what is to come. Secondly, the people of Jerusalem and Judah are in no mood for celebration. Their country has been invaded, the population decimated, their infrastructures destroyed and the ruling class humiliated and taking off into exile to a foreign land. Yet, the prophet sees beyond this to a future that is bright, to say the least - a future that can only be realised in the gospel.

But Baruch moves beyond the imagery of a new set of attire and accoutrements to that of physical construction work that is required to build a highway. Nothing, no obstacle, no hindrance, absolutely nothing should stand in the way of what God is about to do for His people. The massive terrain engineering work envisaged by Baruch will be taken up by St John the Baptist in his proclamation that the high mountains will be flattened and the valleys filled in to make a smooth road for the Messiah to cross the desert to Jerusalem.

St Paul in the second reading adds to the list of things to be done before the Day of the Lord arrives, the Day of His return. So, in the light of the Lord’s coming Paul prays that, “your love for each other may increase more and more and never stop improving your knowledge and deepening your perception so that you can always recognise what is best. This will help you to become pure and blameless, and prepare you for the Day of Christ, when you will reach the perfect goodness.” Our lives’ project as we look to the day of the Lord’s return is to grow in faith, hope and charity and we should never take our foot off the peddle.

And finally, we come to the gospel where John the Baptist breaks into the scene, here in what we call the holiday season, and he impudently demands that we start cleaning as though our lives depended on it. But more than just our lives, the eternal salvation of our souls depend on it. He comes among us with an inconvenient message, a challenging message, a robustly difficult message - a call to repentance, a call for a thorough, radical house cleaning, but the house is that of our souls.

Probably in all of our spiritual residences, our lives, there are rooms that are dominated by clutter. There are corners where dust, and dirt, and trash have accumulated. There are signs of ill repair, where the paint is peeling, the carpet is frayed, and the drapes have faded. Windows are grimy; they barely let in the light of the sun. Such are the conditions on the inside. The outside is no better, though it is more public. Rubbish strewn in the garden, weeds flourishing where flowers used to grow, the driveway that begs to be repaved, walls that wait for scraping and fresh paint. St John the Baptist comes along and points to all of these defects, drags his fingers through the dust, kicks the dirty soiled clothes strewn on the floor and holds his nose as he beholds the unwashed plates and utensils in the kitchen sink.

John shakes the foundations of our comfort zones by uttering a single word, passing on a message that comes from God: Repent! It’s time to clean house, he tells us. Time to sweep the floors, wash the walls, air the rooms, repair what is broken, replace what is no longer useful. It’s time to paint the house, pull up weeds in the garden and trim the hedge. John demands that we make a lot of changes, expend a great deal of energy, get down on our hands and knees to clean the corners. He insists on all this because somebody is coming. He calls us to repent because heaven’s kingdom is very near. He wants us to sweat and struggle, do thorough spring-cleaning even in December, because he knows the results will be worth it.

You may ask yourself, where do I start? That’s a good question. We start by looking at these three basic questions, which we would usually ask ourselves if we want to get rid of all the clutter in our homes:
What needs to go?
What can I give away?
What needs some love and attention?

In the case of our spiritual lives, making an inventory of what needs to go and what needs to stay is just the first step. This should lead us to make a good examination of conscience and then go for sacramental confession before a priest. Ask yourself: What can you throw away? What needs to go? Put into that waste container of the confessional, then, every odious instance of pride, hypocrisy, and impatience from your life. Put into it every instance when you have exploited others. Put into it unholy anger and sick green envy. Put into it lust for people and for things, dishonesty in everyday relationships, negligence in prayer and worship, every failure to live your faith, every refusal to take a good and holy risk. We don’t need that stuff anyway. It takes up our space. It poisons our lives. Fill the dumpster high and let our Lord Jesus through the ministry of the priest haul it away.

Advent is not a feast and yet many forget this inconvenient fact and turn it into a time of premature merry-making. Advent, rather, is the preparation for the coming Feast. This, however, is what Advent is about. This is the time for spring-cleaning. Before we get to the barn in Bethlehem, all of us have to wake up to how our own spiritual house, our own lives, are worse than any self-respecting barn, and they plead for us to clean them. So, clean the house. Not just your residences, but the house of your soul. Let us remove the clutter of sin to make room for the Lord and let us turn away from everything that separates us from Him.

The Future is uncertain but the End is always near

First Sunday of Advent Year C

What would your response be if I were to tell you that we are at the cusp of the End Times, especially in view of the escalation of conflict between Ukraine and Russia, threatening to drag Europe, the United States and the whole world into a possible nuclear war?

Firstly, many of you would respond with incredulity and scoff at my announcement, thinking that I am either kidding, overreacting or out of my mind, and then proceed to live your lives business-as-usual.

Secondly, some would take advantage of the limited time still available to fulfil your life-time’s bucket list - eat, drink and be merry. Why waste the final hours, days and months of your life in idle living or useless worrying?

Thirdly, some of you would redouble your effort in putting your life and your household in order. Time to put in more effort in prayer, Mass attendance, and seek to make peace with those who have become estranged in past years.

Before proceeding any further, I would like to assure that I am deadly serious when I say that we are living in the end times. This is no bogey-man created by the Church to scare the unchurched and the nominal Catholics to return to the pews every Sunday. Neither, is this some symbolic event and its content require some form of de-mythologising. The world really will end! As the rock star lead of the Doors, Jim Morrison, assures us: “The future is uncertain but the end is always near.” The “End” did not begin today or in recent times or even in the past century. It began two thousand years ago with the first coming of our Lord. Our Lord’s death and resurrection was the beginning of the end, the sudden unveiling of God’s final purpose for His creation. We have been living in the end times since then.

The problem which many people face is that we tend to lose the momentum and urgency when the climatic conclusion of the end times seems to have been postponed. We start believing that it’s all a hoax, that the Church got it wrong, that Christ didn’t mean this when He spoke of it to His disciples. But the greater problem is that when we lose sight of the end times, we also lose sight of our ultimate purpose and destination in life. A society who has no vision of an eschatology where God would be victorious at the end, where the wicked would be punished and the innocent vindicated, where wrongs would be made right, where present sufferings would be justified, would be a society wrapped in despair and living without hope.

An incorrect eschatology can also lead to incorrect behaviour in the present times. The early Christian community, as evidenced by the writings of St Paul had similar experiences and responses to the end times announcement which they thought to be imminent - something that would take place in their own lifetime. So, some surrendered to an unbridled hedonistic lifestyle filled with “debauchery and drunkenness”, while others pursued an ascetic style of living, abandoning spouses and families whilst quitting their jobs. Both extremes were far from the ideal of Christian living which St Paul desired to instil in them.

St Paul does not suggest that Christians head for the hills, hunker down, adopt a “fortress mentality,” and start stockpiling food and weapons. As Paul sees it, end-time Christians are called to practice holiness and do good to others wherever and whenever they can. They are supposed to work the works of God “while it is day” (John 9:4). And his instructions have not grown obsolete and we would be wise to follow.

Firstly, news of the end times should not coarsen our hearts and lead us to become some stoic loveless persons. Rather, it should motivate us to increase our love for others. “May the Lord be generous in increasing your love and make you love one another and the whole human race as much as we love you.”

Secondly, our contemplation of the end times should also deepen our relationship with God as we strive to grow in holiness. St Paul prays that God may “so confirm your hearts in holiness that you may be blameless in the sight of our God and Father when our Lord Jesus Christ comes with all his saints.”

Thirdly, knowledge of the end times should not lead us to spiritual or intellectual idleness but actually motivate us to make progress in every aspect of our lives. We should always strive to improve ourselves and not settle for mediocrity, “to make more and more progress in the kind of life that you are meant to live: the life that God wants, as you learnt from us, and as you are already living it.”

As for our Lord, He speaks to His disciples about the need for vigilance and prayer as they wait for the coming of the Son of Man in glory. Though our Lord predicts a time of destruction and fear, and He acknowledges that many will be frightened by what they will be witnessing; His disciples are not to fear, but are to stand tall. Note that our Lord does not promise deliverance from anxiety or tribulations. He, however, encourages His disciples to pray for strength.

There are many reasons why it would be easy to feel overcome by the darkness of our present historical moment. At the threshold of global nuclear annihilation, with so many overwhelming unknowns, it is tempting for our waiting to turn to the apathy of despair, which waits because there is nothing else to do, nowhere to go—a kind of resignation that has stopped looking for new possibilities. What should we do and what can we do? Just as the early Christian communities did not find consolation in the promise of a utopia, nor escape through some other-worldly asceticism or hedonistic lifestyle, nor should we. Instead, we find in our Christian faith the means by which we witness to God's unfailing love for us in all circumstances. With His abundant grace, we should keep on loving, keep on living and keep on growing in holiness.

And so, we begin this holy season of Advent on a high note of hope, rather than despair. Our Lord’s predictions about the end times may sound dire, but in His person and in His message, we who hear Him can find strength and consolation. Like the first Christians, we may encounter events and circumstances that could lead us to despair. Through prayer, however, we find strength and consolation in the Lord’s words in today’s gospel: “Stay awake, praying at all times for the strength to survive all that is going to happen, and to stand with confidence before the Son of Man.”

Christ is King!

Solemnity of Christ the King Year B

The declaration that “Christ is King” seems innocent enough for us Catholics, albeit somewhat hackneyed. But this has not been the case in America’s highly polarised political climate. On the one side you have people saying this is an affirmation of the Christian faith and a desire to not give in to secular culture. On the other side, you have people saying the phrase Christ is king is antisemitic, or expresses contempt for Jewish people, as the gospels seem to lay the blame on them for killing Jesus, although the actual executioner is Pontius Pilate as we had heard in today’s gospel. And in the weeks leading up to the highly contested presidential elections in the United States, the statement has been construed by those on the left as a pro-Trump dog whistle.

It is obvious that the title has political connotations. It is for this reason that the Jewish leaders brought our Lord before the Roman authorities on charges of treason. In the Empire, only Caesar was truly sovereign and all other client puppet rulers within his domain would have to seek his mandate before they could claim any title or authority. Since the Sanhedrin, the Jewish High Council, was unable to impose capital punishment under their religious blaspheme laws, getting the Romans to adjudicate the case and pass the death penalty was the only option. So, the “crime” of Jesus had to be elevated from a religious sin into a political high crime of treason.

When our Lord was given an opportunity by Pilate to refute the charges of claiming to be “king”, He in fact confirmed the title when the question was put to Him: “Are you the king of the Jews?” And after clarifying that His “kingdom is not of this world,” our Lord proceeds to unequivocally declare: “Yes, I am a king. I was born for this, I came into the world for this: to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on the side of truth listen to my voice.” For having affirmed the truth of His kingship instead of denying it, our Lord was condemned to die by crucifixion. He could have lied even when it was inconvenient and politically incorrect to state the truth. He could have protested that it was all a misunderstanding, but He didn’t.

So, for those who clutch their pearls whenever they hear this statement as an anti-Semitic and right-wing slogan, here are some salient truths which is bound to trigger you, rather than lower the temperature: The good news is that Jesus Christ is really king. But He’s also a Jew and in fact hailed as “King of Jews,” the very charge written on the titulus placed on the cross. So, it is an oxymoron to claim that an esteemed royal Jewish title given to a Jew would be anti-Semitic. In fact, this feast was inaugurated by Pope Pius XI as the Church’s challenge to the secularist fascist regimes which were not just anti-semites but also anti-Christian.

It is also important to remember that the “Jesus is King of the Jews” language would have been self-evidently a kind of joke, making fun of both Jesus and his fellow Jews under Roman occupation. The joke is that a king on the throne of David would not be drowning in his own blood, helplessly fixed to a Roman cross. To call him that would make a cruel point not just to any future insurrectionist but to the hopes of Jewish people generally—No one is coming to liberate us. Caesar is king and will remain king. Furthermore, the motives of Pilate’s soldiers in applying the “Christ is king” imagery was even clearer. The purple cloak and the crown of thorns were meant to be a parody—as the Roman soldiers sarcastically saluted Jesus, yelling, “Hail, king of the Jews!” (Mark 15:18). They mocked Jesus both for His alleged claim to kingship and for His Jewishness, both seen as being beneath the majesty of Roman power.

But Jesus is not making any claims to the Roman imperial throne. He has no desire to do so. Our Lord Jesus Christ is not a true and better Caesar. His kingship is something altogether different, in fact, it is not of this world. That’s because the kingdom of God is not a capstone of the aspirations and power games of this present order; it’s a repudiation of them.

If the kingdom of God were about external conformity, tribal membership, or “winning” in the sense that we define it, Jesus could have embraced all of that from the crowds around Him or would have trained His closest associates to become a more effective group of insurgents. The kingdom of God cannot be understood or articulated without seeing that the Crucifixion is not a plot obstacle on a hero’s journey. The way of the Cross is, in fact, the Way to victory and glory, while the way of Caesar leads to death and humiliation. The Cross is indeed our Lord’s true throne. Pope Pius XI taught that Christ the King “has dominion over all creatures, a dominion not seized by violence nor usurped, but His by essence and by nature.” The cross is not what robbed us of our king but in fact, gave us a king.

At a recently concluded Pax Liturgica Meeting in Rome, which went for the most part unnoticed because it was eclipsed by the hyped Synod on Synodality, Cardinal Gerhard Müller warned against bishops betraying their divine mission by relativising doctrine and failing to uphold the orthodox faith. "We must not give in to the following suggestion: If you want to reach people today and be loved by all, then, just like Pilate, leave the truth aside, then you will be spared persecution, suffering, the cross and death! Secularly speaking, the power of politics, media and banks is the safe side, while the truth defies contradiction, and promises suffering with Christ, the crucified Saviour of the world."

So, by declaring that Christ is King is not a triumphalist slogan weaponised against others but a humble acknowledgement that God comes first, above every political movement, above every economic option, above every ideological agenda, above every expression of our narcissistic world-view. To declare that Christ is King is not the symptom of a diseased mind but actually its antidote. To declare that Christ is King is not a refutation of the cross, but, the embrace of it!

Being redeemed in Christ is the antidote for toxic social dynamics. Rather than gaslighting, we have truth; in place of narcissism, there is humility; instead of manipulation, there is a guileless spirit; in place of helplessness and powerlessness, there is the armour of God; rather than oppression, there is deliverance; instead of exhaustion and exploitation, we are made new. So, let us not be abashed or ashamed of declaring with whole-hearted conviction: Christ is King!

And Now the End is Near

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

There are too many things happening simultaneously and coincidentally which may lead us to believe that we are living in the end times. We seem to be beset by one earth-shattering, history-setting crisis after another - a worldwide pandemic that brought the entire world to its knees, an economic crisis on an accelerated downward spiral, regional conflicts threatening to become another world war, hurricanes and natural calamities on an unprecedented scale and a polarised Church which seems to have as many enemies on the inside as she has on the outside. For some, the re-election of Donald Trump was the final straw – we are on the threshold of Armageddon.

Whenever some big catastrophe happens, you can be sure that someone will start talking about the “end times.” Both Catholics and Protestants do this. The difference mainly seems to be that Protestants start trying to chart out the apocalypse according to the Books of Daniel and Revelation, whereas Catholics try to chart it out based on various private revelations of the more dramatic and eschatological kind.

But what Christians today often forget is that the Church has been talking about the “end times” since the very first century, when humanity crucified the Son of God which was followed in a few decades by the destruction of the Temple of Jerusalem. Our Lord’s death and resurrection was the beginning of the end, the sudden unveiling of God’s final purpose for His creation. The destruction of the Temple merely confirmed their worst fears as the Temple was regarded by the Jews as the microcosm of the universe. This catastrophe coupled with civil wars fought within the Roman Empire, cataclysmic natural disasters led many to believe that this was indeed the Last Days. But the world did not disintegrate into space dust despite all signs and omens and personal speculations pointing to this.

So, are we overreacting? Have our ancestors been overreacting? Are the end times even real or have we been suffering from some eschatological post-traumatic stress disorder for decades and centuries? I wish to reassure you - Yes, the end times are real! The last things are real: death, judgment, heaven, hell. From a biblical point of view, we have been living in the end times for the last 2,000 years.

We are living in the end times but there is nothing new about this. So yes, the drama is real, but so is the salvation. We should never forget this truth: Evil is real, but so is good. In fact, the good is more real because evil is always destructive, always negative, always corrupting. Whereas the good creates, builds, grows, nurtures, comforts, enhances, heals. That is why we should never be hiding in a bunker, cowering in fear under some rock or burying our head in the sand. The good news of Jesus Christ is that evil does not triumph, cannot triumph, and so we do not have to fear. We can look in the face of evil—as so many Christian martyrs have done and do even today—and persevere in loving the good.

What our Lord tells us in today’s gospel passage is not just an ominous warning of destruction on a global and cosmic scale. Many would be so caught up with the frightening imagery that appears in the first half of our Lord’s prophecy but fail to pay attention to the second half that follows. What comes after the end of the world and the universe, is not defeat but victory. Our Lord assures us that for those who remain resilient and faithful to the end, will get to witness the “Son of Man coming in the clouds with great power and glory; then too he will send the angels to gather his chosen from the four winds, from the ends of the world to the ends of heaven.”

As Christians, we should not be paralysed and stuck in the past, the past of failures, of blunders, of sentimental memories. If there is anything the past can teach us is the lessons which we must take into the present. Remembering the past should lead us to a profound sense of gratitude, to wisdom, to humility and to repentance. We must remember that we can never change the past and therefore, can never choose to live in a time capsule, shielding us from the troubles of the present.

The same could be said of the future. We have limited influence on the future, which in any case doesn’t yet exist. Many feel crippled and immobilised by fear and the uncertainties of the future. But we have a lot of influence on the choices we make and the actions we take, here and now. “Now” matters. It matters because all the “nows” in a lifetime add up to the kind of people we become, and the kind of world we help to heal or degrade. Our power as individuals lies in what we do now; in our willingness to speak and live the truth today, now, whatever the cost. It lies in our refusal to cooperate with a culture of distortion and deceit.

Ultimately, Christians belong to the Church Militant; a Church engaged in a nonviolent struggle for the soul of the world. Our weapons are faith, hope and charity; justice, mercy, and courage. But all those virtues are useless without the men and women to live and witness them and to soldier on . . . because people, not things, are decisive. And it is how we live our lives in the present which will determine the final outcome, with “some (going) to everlasting life, some to shame and everlasting disgrace.”

The Catholic approach may not be the stuff of movies or bestsellers, but it is one filled with hope instead of instilling dread in us. While we may not know exactly what the Second Coming will look like, or when it would happen or how our current world will be reshaped or changed, we have the promises of scripture: “The learned will shine as brightly as the vault of heaven, and those who have instructed many in virtue, as bright as stars for all eternity.” That is what we should hold onto as we live our earthly lives as well as we can in love with hope for the work that is being done in our lives now and for what is being prepared for us in the future.