The Best Wine for the last

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Every drinker would appreciate the wisdom found in this Bible verse taken from the Book of Ecclesiastes (9:7), “Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for it is now that God favours what you do.” Wine or alcohol can be a bringer of joy, albeit temporary. But when the initial momentary elation wears off, the mood can descend into tears, anger, and even violence... and don’t forget the massive hangover that is certain to follow. After the string of drinking parties stretching from Christmas to the New Year, it’s time to sober up. The celebration is literally over when “we have run out of wine”, money and leave!

The Bible treats intoxicating drinks ambivalently, considering them both a blessing from God that brings joy and merriment, and potentially dangerous beverages that can be sinfully abused. The wine in today’s gospel story bears the first sense. Thank God for that! The symbol of wine used with the theme of the wedding feast expresses the exhilarating joy of ‘the Hour,’ not just the hour of nuptial bliss for the couple, but the ‘Hour’ marking the decisive intervention of God and manifestation of His glory in Christ. This is the hour of Israel’s liberation. Her Saviour has come! But just when the celebrations were gaining momentum, it risked being turned into a disaster. The festivities encountered an untimely snag: “they ran out of wine.” The mother of Jesus announces the sobering news, “They have no wine.” For all those present, this would have sounded like a death sentence.

This incident is a very fitting illustration of the failure of all this world’s joys. As much as we hope for an inexhaustible supply of resources, as much as we pray that the party and the honeymoon will never end, we always end up with an empty casket after everything has been drained. We know what it means for the wine to run out. Sooner or later in every situation, in every lucky streak, in every relationship, in every type of human pleasure, the wine runs out. Our family members, one by one, leave the nest. Divorce or separation may come even after years of a happy married life. Our friends, with whom we've shared so many enjoyable times, slowly move away. Our motivation to work and to produce is soon replaced with fatigue and burn out. In the parish, the exodus of the young, and the gradual decline of the BECs seem to signal the death of a once vibrant community. In every human achievement, pleasure, and joy — the "wine" is bound to run out.

What do all these experiences tell us? Have we truly run out of wine? Has the party ended? Or are these scenarios merely pointing to the fact that we are often dictated by our subjective experiences, especially our emotions? It is interesting to note that our assessment of any situation is often dictated by our subjective experience. “How do I feel?” This is quite natural. The problem is that we often assume that our subjective assessment is conclusive and infallible. But our feelings say more about ourselves than objective realities. We confuse our emotional urges for the voice of conscience. In any event, emotions are always beyond our control and they never last. This kind of wine is inevitably doomed to run out.

Thousands of years ago, the people of Israel also thought that the destruction of their country meant the end of everything. They were mocked by their neighbours as the “Forsaken” and “Abandoned” People. Israel had only herself to blame for this due to her infidelity. But Isaiah in the first reading gives an entirely different ending to the story, an objective one as far as it is the vision of God. It is a message of hope. All is not lost because God will return to redeem them. They will be called by a new name; they will be called “My Delight” and “The Wedded” for God has taken delight in them again. God has renewed His covenant with them – He has wedded them again. What brought about this change? They finally realised that glory and blessings come from God alone. No human power, riches or glory will last. Eventually all these things will run out except that which is given by God.

Our most common folly is that we often realise this important point only too late, after our own resources have been depleted or exhausted. In our drunken merriment, self-absorbed in our own human achievements, we often fail to recognise that Christ is the true source of joy, an inexhaustible and irrevocable joy, unless we choose to ignore Him. He is not only the provider of the wine that will never run out. He is the Best Wine often mistakenly kept for the last.

Thus, we must guard against the deception of subjective assessment and be misled into thinking that this is the end, merely on the basis that we feel it is so. When we allow our subjective impressions to dictate our lives, it would only lead to chaos and confusion. Here, our Catholic understanding of the Sacraments is important. Sacramental theology speaks of an objective reality, which is the grace we receive in the Sacraments, that is not dependent on our subjective experience or our emotions. Christ is present, truly, really, substantially at every Mass and in the tabernacle whether you “feel” it or not. The truth that Christ is present here is a fact. Your feelings do not matter. “Facts have no feelings!”

Likewise, even when the parties to the marriage no longer feel anything for the other, this does not spell the end of the marriage. The subjective experience of the parties does not determine the end of the objective reality proposed by the sacrament. Objectively, Christ remains faithful; He continues to confer the necessary grace through the Sacrament of matrimony, and this ultimately defines the permanency of the marital bond. In another instance, even if everyone in the congregation felt listless and bored during the entire mass, or the priest was ill-prepared to celebrate the mass, the mass is still objectively the Sacrifice of the Cross. As the fate of marriages cannot be determined by changing sentiment, the victory of the Cross is not undone by our fluctuating moods.

So, what do we do when the wine runs out? What do we do when the thrill is gone? What do we do when the faith dissipates? Many look for substitutes, only to find themselves disappointed once again because the wine will also run out. ‘Running away’ is no solution too. Mary shows us the way. The strength of Mary’s faith is when she tells the servants to follow the instructions of her Son. We run to Jesus with faith that He can do even the impossible, even outmatching the miracle of transforming water into wine. Mary teaches us to come to Him in humble submission, ready to listen to what He has to tell us, even though it may go against our better judgment. So, when the wine runs out, don’t attempt to brew some more, don’t look for cheap alternatives and don't run away. It’s not over. The best wine has been saved for the last – it is Jesus.

The New Adam

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord Year C

The story of the baptism of the Lord is found in all four gospels with tiny but significant differences. In the Fourth Gospel, the account is reported speech or a hear say account by St John the Baptist, whereas Matthew, Mark and Luke record this event directly as if they had witnessed it or received the testimony of other witnesses. But in all three Synoptic gospels, we see both similarities and differences in the basic order. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all follow the same basic order of events: the appearance of St John the Baptist and an introduction to his ministry followed by the Baptism of the Lord.

Although both Matthew and Mark record that the Lord is baptised by John, Luke remains silent on this. We can only assume as the reader and from comparing this text with the other parallel texts, that our Lord was baptised by John. But this omission may in fact be deliberate. In fact, Luke may have wanted to emphasise that Jesus baptised Himself since no one was worthy to do so: “Jesus after his own baptism.” Unlike us who are adopted children of God through baptism, that is being baptised by another person, Jesus who is already the Son of God by nature had no need of such elevation or coronation. In Matthew and Mark, immediately after hearing the voice of the Father, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted.

But Luke uniquely breaks the flow by offering us Jesus’ genealogy between the baptism and the temptation. This is a curious placement for a genealogy, and at first pass, it might seem to interrupt the flow of Luke’s narrative. We might expect Luke to place the genealogy at the beginning of his Gospel (such as we find in Matthew), or perhaps at the end of Luke chapter 1, right before Jesus’ birth. Yet Luke strategically places it here, just after our Lord’s baptism and prior to the episode on how the Lord endured temptations in the wilderness.

The key to understanding the placement of the genealogy is found within the genealogy itself. Unlike Luke, Matthew’s gospel is written to the Jewish community. As such, Matthew’s genealogy (presumably following Joseph’s line) links Jesus to King David, the greatest of the Jewish Kings, and then to Abraham, the father of the Jewish people. And there Matthew’s genealogy stops. But Luke’s gospel is written to a non-Jewish audience, and his genealogy does not focus on Jesus’ relation to Abraham. Instead, Luke (presumably following Mary’s line) traces Jesus all the way back to Adam, and then ultimately to God.

Matthew’s genealogy presents Jesus as the second David, a son of Abraham. Luke’s genealogy presents Jesus as the second Adam, a son of God. This should not come as a surprise to any reader of the Gospel of St Luke, as the angel had already announced to Mary at the Annunciation: “He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High.” But what is more surprising, unlike Matthew, Luke begins his genealogy with Jesus who is described as the Son of God and then traces it back to Adam, another son of God. In fact, the last name in the genealogy is not even Adam, it is God: “Adam, the son of God.” That this genealogy terminates with God Himself is a feature unparalleled in the ancient world, including the Old Testament. Having begun his genealogy with Jesus instead of Adam, Luke wishes to emphasise that Jesus’ identity had no need of validation by tracing his lineage back to Adam. On the contrary, it is Adam who is being validated and confirmed by his descendant, Jesus, the Son of Mary and the only begotten and Beloved Son of God.

And thus, Luke offers us the genealogy — linking Jesus to Adam, and ultimately to God — as a means of introducing Jesus’ temptation. With the placement and nature of his genealogy, Luke intends us to see Jesus’ wilderness temptation as a recapitulation of Adam’s garden temptation. It is Jesus — the descendent of Adam and the Son of God — who will overthrow the devil. Where Adam failed the test, Jesus will endure Satan’s temptations and remain faithful to the Father. Where the first Adam failed, the Second Adam would succeed.

So, what our Lord accomplished by nature, we enjoy through the grace, especially the grace of baptism. Most people often believe that baptism serves as a means of washing away our sins. It does. Others believe that it is a rite of passage which incorporates us into the “club,” the Church. That too happens. But most importantly, baptism incorporates us into the life of Christ. We follow Him into the waters of baptism to partake of His death and to die to our old selves but we also rise from the waters of baptism as a new creation, a Christian, in other words, a little Christ, as we now share in the graces of His resurrection. We cast aside our fallen nature which we inherited from the old Adam so that we may now be adorned with Christ, the new Adam, and because of this ontological or substantial change in us, we have now become sons and daughters of God. As the Catechism teaches: “Baptism not only purifies from all sins, but also makes the neophyte "a new creature," an adopted son of God, who has become a "partaker of the divine nature,” member of Christ and coheir with him, and a temple of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1265).

Herein lies the deepest mysteries of the Sacraments instituted by Christ for our salvation and growth in holiness. The Sacraments are not just “things” that we do, archaic ceremonies that are performed to appease God. Our Lord Jesus did not come into the world merely to do things for us, but rather He came to open up through His humanity a way to participate in His divinity, to graft ourselves into His very life. So, today as we celebrate the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord, let us remember with ever greater certitude that the heavenly voice that spoke “my Beloved” that day was referring no less to us than to Christ, that it applies in equal measure and with equal intensity to all of you who have been incorporated into Him “through the bath of rebirth.”

The Universality of our Faith

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

Many have forgotten the ideals that were encapsulated in the rallying cry of the French Revolution, Liberty, Equality and Fraternity, which did not just bring down the aristocracy but also much of the Christian ethos on which Western civilisation was built upon. Today, those ideals have been reduced to ashes like the Cathedral of Notre Dame of Paris, only to have risen like a Phoenix in another form - DEI - Diversity, Equity and Inclusion. Although, some would argue that DEI is just another form of the threefold motto of the French Revolution only differing in minor semantics, DEI has gone beyond what those principles had been espoused to introduce. DEI: the race-and-identity-based ideology has become a core component of corporate or cultural endeavours across the US and even the world. DEI informs how students are taught, workers are hired and governance policies are established and obeyed. DEI are the new gifts offered not at the altar of God or to His infant Son, but to the altar of man.

Long before DEI became a fad, we have the tradition of the magi, often depicted in the Nativity crèche scene as three men hailing from the three known continents of the early medieval period - Europe, Asia and Africa. They perfectly fit the bill of being DEI hires. Recently, Fr Bonaventure and I were doing some Christmas decoration shopping, and we were looking for a new nativity set for the Parish House. Our eyes set upon this beautiful porcelain set which was surprisingly cheaper than all the other synthetic stuff. Our joy was short lived when we were informed by the shop owner that the set was already sold, and the display set was the only one they had in stock. Upon enquiring as to why the price of this exquisite set was far cheaper than the rest, the shop keeper admitted that one piece was missing - “the black king.” Too much “whiteness” (and indeed unlike the other sets, all figures were porcelain white) had rendered it defective and sadly “cancelled.” Christmas was no longer DEI compliant!

Thank God, we don’t need DEI to celebrate today’s feast. Yes, we should respect diversity rather than insist on uniformity. Yes, we need to include rather than to exclude, to build bridges rather than walls. These values are entirely understandable and morally laudable. But we don’t need to force the Church into a DEI box in order to achieve this. Our celebration of Epiphany is already a celebration of diversity, equality of dignity and inclusion.

Epiphany is the celebration of the universality of the Church, the universality of our faith, the universality of salvation and the universality of Christ as Saviour, who came to save not just an elite group of individuals belonging to a particular nation, caste, or race but He came to save all humanity. This universality is manifested in the visit of the magi, these non-Jewish wise men, most likely astrologers, as they came to pay homage to the Infant King in Bethlehem. The visit of the Magi, Pope Francis teaches, shows that Jesus Christ is 'the light of the world that guides the path of all peoples.' The Son of God did not only come for the people of Israel, represented by the shepherds, but also for the whole of humanity, represented by the Magi.

The Magi remind us of the catholicity or universality of the Church. Catholic means universal! We perhaps take for granted the catholicity of the Catholic Church. It is an important “mark of the Church.” We see this universality right here in our own parish. We are blessed with a diversity of races and cultures. We believe that God calls all people to salvation and that the Gospel is meant to be spread to the nations of the whole world. The Second Vatican Council taught that this gift of universality which adorns the People of God is a gift from the Lord Himself whereby the Catholic Church ceaselessly and efficaciously seeks for the return of all humanity and all its good under Christ the Head in the unity of His Spirit (Lumen gentium 13).

That Jesus is a universal Saviour is a great source of comfort and hope to us. But the divisiveness of Jesus, and the opposition that He provokes: that too remains. Right from the very moment of His birth, we see opposition in the person of King Herod. But King Herod would only be the first in a long line of those who would oppose Christ and His followers. Though Christ’s mission was universal, it did not mean that all accepted it universally. Christ is a sign that will be opposed: we see it in the persecution faced by Christians over the centuries and in many parts of the world; we see it in that mixture of indifference and hostility which is largely the default setting of our own secular culture to the Christian faith. The universality of His message of salvation is matched by the universality of opposition and hostility to the Gospel.

But perhaps too we see it even in our own hearts. There may be a part of us that wants to follow Jesus; there may be moments when we recognise that we need a Saviour; there may be times when the illusion that we are in control is shattered, and we want to be able to trust in His rule and in His care. But then, there is also a part of us that is frightened in much the same way that Herod was frightened, a part of us that wants to maintain the illusion of control at all costs. We are unwilling to be like the Wise Men, following the light to who knows where; we are unwilling to leave everything behind, to turn our lives upside down, to take risks and to make sacrifices for the sake of Jesus. We don’t want a King; we don’t think we need a Saviour. It’s our life, we are in control, we think we already have the answers. We turn away from Jesus, or we follow Him only half-heartedly, because we fear the challenge and the loss of control.

Every one of us has felt the sting of unjust exclusion, that sense of being on the wrong side of an arbitrary social divide, not permitted to belong to the “in” crowd. Perhaps, we in Malaysia have felt this more than in any other place on this earth. That entire classes of people, indeed entire races and ethnic groups, have suffered this indignity is beyond question. But the answer is not to hold up Diversity, Equity and Inclusion as the ultimate moral compass of our society. The antidote to our division is not to be found in these values, if they are values that have been cut off from its source, our Lord Jesus Christ, the unique and universal Saviour of the world.

So today we rejoice with the Wise Men in the presence of Jesus our Saviour and King. We rejoice that His salvation and His rule is universal, that His loving redemption extends to you and to me. We pray for the spread of the Gospel in our own generation, for all who have been unable to accept the Lord’s call, for persecuted Christians around the world, and for those who persecute them. And we repent of that fear that holds us back, that fear that prevents us from wholeheartedly seeking the light of Christ, the fear that keeps us separate from others and to view them as inferior to us. Today, we as members of the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church should double our efforts in reaching out to everyone, by welcoming everyone to bask in the light of Christ, our true star. But it is also important to recall what Cardinal Francis George, the former Archbishop of Chicago, once said when asked whether all are welcome in the Church. He responded, “Yes, but on Christ’s terms, not their own.”

Obedience, the antidote to pride

Solemnity of the Holy Family

The readings for this feast provide us with a three-pronged meditation on the common theme of family. The first reading takes a hard honest look at our own respective human families. While the second reminds us that we are children of God and therefore, part of God’s great big family. Lastly, the gospel focuses on the one family which stands out today - the Holy Family of Nazareth, the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph. Although, these are three different contexts to consider the theme of family, they are all united by something in common - the relationship of each member to God. The love of God is the glue that keeps families together and the family is the glue that holds the fabric of society together.

There is no doubt until times recent, that families matter to society and to individuals. But we Christians also believe that families matter to God. At the beginning of the Bible, God states, “It is not good that man should be alone” (Genesis 2.18). God, therefore, instituted the first marriage and founded the first family. Throughout the Bible, God seeks to strengthen families. Husbands are encouraged to love their wives, children to obey parents, and parents to train up their children in the right paths. The fourth commandment demands that we honour our parents. The Bible also contains many real-life examples of both happy and divided families. Before placing the Lord Saviour into the loving arms of His human mother and foster father, the Bible traces Abraham’s family line to Him. It was not enough for Jesus to be born into this specific family but to see His connexion with the whole human family.

The first reading taken from Ecclesiasticus (or Sirach) is an expansion of the fourth commandment to honour one’s parents but the passage also serves to link this obligation to the first three commandments which are due to God. Importantly, the Fourth Commandment is the only one with a promise attached: “…that you may have a long life in the land which the Lord, your God, is giving you” (Exod 20:12). Sirach reminds us of this promise and expands it to include atonement for sin. So, honouring one’s parents is not just an act of filial piety but also an expression of religious piety, one’s filial obedience to God. They are inseparable. By showing such respect to parents, especially to old and infirm parents, the sins of children are pardoned. Failure to honour father and mother is blasphemy and merits a curse from God.

The passage helps us to see that filial piety is not blind and slavish compliance, but due deference and respect, a love that shows itself in obedience. Sirach encourages us to embrace the way of obedience, the way of humility, so that we may obtain wisdom not by seeking our own path of self-realisation, but by humbly submitting ourselves to our fathers and mothers. Obedience is foundational for a moral life, a wise life, a life lived in praise of God. That is why obedience is one of the three evangelical counsels which are prerequisites to the life of one who wishes to grow in holiness. While poverty is the antidote to greed and chastity is the antidote to lust, obedience is the perfect antidote to the poison of pride. Sirach encourages us to embrace the way of obedience, so that we may obtain wisdom not by seeking our own path of self-realisation, but by humbly submitting ourselves to our parents.

The second reading reminds us that though each of us have a set of earthly parents and an earthly home, we should never forget that we are members of a much bigger family, the family of God. St John in the second reading thus highlights the amazing love God has for us. Not only is He willing to call us His children, we actually are His children. To become “children of God” is not simply a metaphor for the creator-creature relationship. This is a literal statement. Through Baptism, we have received the Holy Spirit, which works an essential or ontological change—a change of our nature—conferring on us a likeness to God which makes us His children. True childhood is to share in nature of the Father. It is not that spiritual childhood through the Holy Spirit is similar to real childhood which is biological. Rather, biological childhood is similar to real childhood which consists in partaking of the Father’s nature through His Spirit. This is a unique truth of the Catholic faith—other religions do not teach that we are the children of God, or else they mean it only in a metaphorical way. And as children of God, we must learn to love one another and keep God’s commandments.

Finally, we come to the gospel story which is popularly known by the title given to it by the Joyful Mystery of the Rosary - the finding of the Lord in the Temple. One of the obvious themes in this gospel is the true origin of Jesus, or in other words, the true Fatherhood of Jesus. Though Joseph is (rightly) called Jesus’ “father” by Our Blessed Mother (“your father and I have been looking for you”), nonetheless our Lord responds with this revealing question: “Did you not know that I must be busy with my Father’s affairs?” He is reminding His earthly parents and us of His divine origin, and that Joseph was in the end only His adopted father.

At first, we are tempted to say that for most of us, this is the difference between Jesus and ourselves. We have natural biological fathers, but Jesus had God as His Father. But again on further reflexion, we have to admit that there is not so much difference—or better said, there is a closer analogy between our origin and Jesus’. Like Jesus, those of us who have been baptised have been “born of God,” born in a supernatural way from a Heavenly Father. This is the point of the second reading. All fatherhood has its origin in God (Eph 3:15). As we contemplate the Holy Family this Sunday, we need to ponder the fact that, like Jesus, we have a supernatural origin from God the Father through the power of the Holy Spirit. Having God as our Father makes it possible for us to break out of patterns of sin that we may have learned, consciously or unconsciously, from our human fathers—good men though they may have been—and live in “the glorious freedom of the children of God” (Rom 8:21).

As Luke’s story unfolds, St Joseph fades from the picture. Mary lives in the reflective way we are all called to live, “storing all these things in her heart”. Sometimes God’s call to children is in tension with parents’ wishes or hopes. Children are first of all “children of God”. Much as we might want to, we cannot hold on to them. We try to understand their choices, we do everything we can to nurture their uniqueness, and we pray that they too will grow in wisdom and stature and in favour with God as responsible members of the whole human family, but ultimately, we have to accept that they are God’s children first and foremost.

Likewise, as children, we must watch our hearts and remember that the natural respect that sons and daughters should have for their fathers and mothers is something the Lord set up to orient us toward Himself. If we honour our parents, our hearts will be in a great place to honour God. If we honour our parents, then we too can obtain by grace the “long life in the land which the Lord our God is giving us.” That land, of course, is heaven, the inheritance prepared by our Father in heaven.

He has spoken to us

Christmas Mass During the Day

If there is any passage that could rival or at least mirror the beauty and profundity of the Prologue of St John’s gospel, it must be the prologue to the Letter to the Hebrews which we heard in the second reading: “At various times in the past and in various different ways, God spoke to our ancestors through the prophets; but in our own time, the last days, he has spoken to us through his Son, the Son that he has appointed to inherit everything and through whom he made everything there is. He is the radiant light of God’s glory and the perfect copy of his nature …” In this prologue, just as in John’s, we find the theological reason for our celebration - the reason for the season.

Perhaps, the significance of both texts is lost on us because we often take communication for granted. But imagine arriving in a foreign country with absolutely no knowledge of the local language nor are you equipped with any phrase book or translator application or device, you would simply be lost. You can attempt to second guess what the other person is trying to convey to you with hand gestures and other forms of non-verbal communication, but there is no way of verifying your suspicions and speculations. This is why both the author of Hebrews and the evangelist St John uses the analogy of the spoken word to illustrate who God is and how He wishes to relate with us.

We are here on earth, busy living our lives, pursuing our own agendas, but deaf to God's voice. We don't hear what God is trying to say to us. God has been trying to communicate His message to us, we aren't getting it. But rather than give up in frustration, God loves us so much that He desperately wants to reveal Himself to us in ways that we can understand. So, He sends His very own Son to communicate His message in a way that we can understand. God has finally broken through the communication barrier that has separated us from knowing His will. That is the miracle of Christmas. That is the miracle of the message.

There are three points which the prologue of the letter to the Hebrews wishes to communicate to us.

The first point is that God speaks through history to reveal Himself to us. He wants us to know Him, to love Him, to worship Him. For those who complain that God often remains silent when we demand a response or an answer, are obviously ignorant of how God has chosen to reveal Himself to us. God is always speaking but were we listening?

God reveals Himself through His creation, through the sunrise and sunset, through the sun, moon and stars. God spoke to Moses in the burning bush, He spoke to the Israelites from the smoke and fire on the mountain, He spoke to Elijah in a still, small voice, to Isaiah in a vision in the temple. God has been speaking His message through visions and dreams, through angels. There is no lack of variety for God's revelation is not a monotonous activity that must always occur in the same place or in the same way. God has been speaking throughout history in a variety of places through a variety of means in order to make Himself and His will known. But God's revelations in the Old Testament were fragmentary, occasional, and progressive, because no single one of them contained the whole truth. They could not adequately capture the full picture of God's nature.

And so it was necessary to take it up another level, in fact, beyond any level which we would normally expect. God speaks through Christ. At last, God sent His Son to bring His message to us! In the Lord Jesus Christ, God revealed Himself directly to us. Jesus Christ, the living divine Son of God, did more than just proclaim God's message - He is God's message. As St John confidently declares in his prologue: “In the beginning was the Word: and the Word was with God and the Word was God.” But this Word did not just remain invisible like a concept or an idea. Something happened which is at the very heart of Christmas: “The Word was made flesh, he lived among us, and we saw his glory.” The invisible Deity, whom we can never behold, became visible. Jesus came to reveal God, to make Him known to us in ways that we can understand. If you want to know what God is like, look to Jesus!

But why did this happen? Why did the Word choose to become flesh? Why did the Son of God choose to be born in Bethlehem? Why did He choose to speak to us in person? Well, the answer is found in my third point - God speaks to transform. The miracle of the message is not just in the fact that God speaks to us today through His Son, but that the message has the power to transform our lives. Christmas is the celebration of the greatest message ever proclaimed. Emmanuel - God is with us. God came near so that we could draw near to Him. Or as the Fathers of the Church were fond of claiming: God became man so that men may become gods. The miracle of the message is that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, so that we can be set free from sin's hold on our lives.

Why would He do that? Because He wanted us to know how very much He loves us. He wanted us to know that He created us for a reason - that we might know and love Him. He came to proclaim the message that we have been set free. We don't have to live as prisoners to guilt and regret.

In our time, I think, we need to recognise that this is the fundamental message of Christmas. We either recognise our need for a Saviour or we do not. We either yearn for the fulfilment of God’s will or we do not. We either accept the gift of Christ wholeheartedly or we do not. If we really don’t care about our Catholic faith, having exiled it to the periphery of our lives, storing it in a drawer somewhere only to be taken out when needed, then we have rejected this faith. Yet its acceptance—indeed, its very life within us—is the key, amid all the fluctuations and catastrophes of this world.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, the Saviour King born in Bethlehem, the Son of Mary and the Son of God, the Word made flesh, “the radiant light of God’s glory and the perfect copy of His nature,” let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God. Should not all our festivities and carols be in thanksgiving for the wonder of Christmas? Was it not at Christ’s birth that the silence of the heavens were shattered, that Invisible Deity became visible, that our salvation was first made manifest? So, as we celebrate Christmas, we and all our families ought to know what we are doing, and we ought to know why, and we ought to know all that is at stake. Christmas has changed everything. We should rejoice in it only if we find that it has also changed us—or that it can change us now and continues to change us until we are able to see His glory face to face.

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!