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Feast of the Presentation of the Lord
Today is the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord but it also happens to be the anniversary of my sacerdotal ordination. Now, the anniversary of our ordination is usually a pretty big thing for us priests, even bigger than our birthdays. For this reason, the Missal allows us to celebrate a special liturgy for the occasion. But given that this feast is a big thing for the Church, I’ve always had to swallow my pride and take a back seat. It’s the festival of lights and the spotlight should be on Christ, the Light of the World.
But this year, I’ve decided to speak about the priestly and religious life. It would be absolutely self-serving if I chose this theme purely on the basis that it has to do with me. Since 1997, this feast has also been celebrated as the World Day for Consecrated Life, as Saint John Paul II explained when he instituted it: "The Virgin Mother who carries Jesus to the temple so that he can be offered to the Father expresses very well the figure of the Church who continues to offer her sons and daughters to the heavenly Father, associating them with the one oblation of Christ, cause and model of all consecration in the Church.”
During a brain-storming session last year with some of the leaders of this parish, one of the items we wished to highlight for this year, being a special Jubilee year for our parish, is the promotion of vocations to the priesthood and the religious life. In our centennial long existence, we have only produced one priest! If that is not a travesty, it should be a tragedy. Perhaps, the lack of vocations to the priesthood and religious life in this parish may have to do with the ability to sacrifice, or the lack of it, to consecrate to God what belongs to Him.
The link between family life and consecrated life is essential. For it is in the family that young people have their first experience of Gospel values and of the love which gives itself to God and to others, which is at the heart of the act of consecration. It is the family, that children should learn the value of service, of sacrifice, of giving our best to God instead of just keeping the best for ourselves and leaving the scraps for God.
The spirit of sacrifice, of giving, of rendering to God our best and our most treasured possession is what we witness in the gospel. St Joseph and the Blessed Virgin Mary undertook their sacred duty to present their child Jesus to God in an act of consecration. But here is the paradox of this scene. Our Lord has no need of consecration, because He is the Divine Word in the flesh, and yet allows His earthly parents to make this act of consecration to His Heavenly Father. They perform in external ritual what Jesus already is in reality, the Only Begotten Son of God. And our Lord Jesus then consecrates His earthly parents and the whole world to His Heavenly Father by mystically uniting them with His life, death and resurrection. They are saints because of Him.
The heart of the scene is certainly the Lord Himself. All attention, affection, expectation, and wonder are focused on the Light of the World. But the ones who surround Him all have in common a total gift of self. They have given everything to be there, both their past and future. St Joseph gave up his expectations for a normal married life. Mary gave up her autonomy to assume the great responsibility of bearing the Saviour of the World. Both Simeon and Anna gave up their youth in long years of waiting for the Messiah. Our Lady and St Joseph, Simeon and Anna, show us that Jesus is the One worth living for, the One worth all of our love, the only One whose claim on our hearts can bring to fulfillment the Love that has been promised us when He first invited us to “Follow Him”.
In each of these figures, we see a call to imitate Jesus, the Light of the World, who gave Himself wholly to do the Father’s will and in accordance to the Father’s will, gave up His life in atonement for our sins and to reconcile the world to the Father. In each of them, we come face-to-face with a vocation that demands all the human heart can give. Not only are we called to give each passing moment to God, but also to accept in advance whatever His will might bring in the future, whether it be a great blessing or sword.
Twenty two years ago, I was presented to the Church for ordination as a priest. In the theological language of the Church, I was configured to Christ. Something changed, a profound and radical change which is invisible to the eye. Sure, my quirks are still there. Sure, I get occasionally testy and snappy and impatient with those around me. Sure, I get tired and frustrated. But something objectively changed. It was more than a change of title or job, or a costume change, with me exchanging my lay civilian clothes for a religious uniform, but this fundamental change which I underwent is what we call an ontological change, a change of my entire being. As St Paul beautifully explains the experience of such change in Gal 2:20, “It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me.”
As we priests experience an ontological change at our ordination, baptism also brings about an ontological change in each of the faithful. In baptism, we are made children of God, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people set apart for the worship of God. In baptism, we become a new creation. The old has been put to death on the cross. In Holy Orders, the priest is configured to Christ at his ordination, in a way calling for a permanent and lasting commitment, through a share in Christ’s eternal priesthood. The priest does not just emulate Christ. He is not just a substitute or a stand-in for Christ. Through ordination, the priest becomes Christ. That is the audacity of God. He takes an ordinary man with all his limitations and even sinfulness, and changes him into something else, not just a mere representative or ambassador, but to stand in the person of Christ Himself - in persona Christi.
Yes, the holy priesthood is a grace to the Church and to the world, but it is also a work of grace. What a priest is and what he accomplishes come from divine grace. In an era of personality cults, this is a humbling realisation for any priest, a realisation that leads to St Paul’s conclusion: “I can do all things in Him who strengthens me” (Phil 4:13). The efficacy of our priesthood is derived from its true source, Christ. In order that a priest remains faithful to his priestly ministry, it is so essential that he remains in the Perfect High Priest Himself. Now, does this mean that you would see a “Fr Michael” incapable of making mistakes? Ordination isn’t Canonisation! Priests like everyone else remain sinners. But just like everyone else, he is called to holiness and through the sacrament of holy orders, he is called to configure himself to Christ. The weakness and sinfulness of a priest does not take away the efficacy of God’s grace but rather accentuates the truth that all is graced and that nothing can be accomplished without the grace and power of God.
So, my dear friends, on this great Festival of Light, even as the spotlight is centered on Christ, who as Simeon prophecies is “a light to enlighten the pagans and the glory of your people Israel,” spare a prayer for me, His humble servant. The Light of Christ illuminates those around Him, even if sometimes we choose to remain in semi-darkness. Pray for me … not for good health, or good wealth, not for greater wisdom or more pizzaz in my delivery. Pray only that I remain faithful to Christ whom I have been consecrated to. Pray as St Paul did, that “It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me.” And that is the only thing which matters!
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
Malaysians have an uncanny way of boasting through self-deprecation. It is commonly regarded that braggarts are hated or deeply disliked. On the other hand, it is deemed polite in our cultural context to deflect praises by heaping insults on oneself and one’s achievements. Such deprecating mannerism extends to our children too. For example, if someone praises your child for being intelligent, you simply disagree by saying that he is just average or even not that smart. Or if someone were to say that your daughter is beautiful, you just politely differ by stating that her looks are just plain and ordinary. But this may be a not-so-subtle way of winning more praises, for humility is almost always considered a great virtue worthy of praise, just as boasting is viewed negatively as shameless self-promotion.
But there is really nothing wrong with stating something which is objectively true. It is not pure boastful bluster if it is true. In fact, denying the truth has nothing to do with humility but symptomatic of pride. This is what St Paul does in the second reading. In fact, he makes loud boasting and encourages all of us to boast too. What is the content of his boasting? In one sense, St Paul agrees that we have absolutely nothing to boast about when it comes to ourselves or our achievements: “The human race has nothing to boast about” but then adds that we do have something to boast about: “God has made members of Christ Jesus and by God’s doing he has become our wisdom, and our virtue, and our holiness, and our freedom.” St Paul then quotes scripture by stating this dictum: “if anyone wants to boast, let him boast about the Lord.”
The members in the Church in Corinth were full of themselves and often boasted of their spiritual gifts and wealth and so St Paul decides to provide them with a humbling reality check. The point which St Paul is making is simply this: we need to remember we are who we are because of God, we have achieved and accomplished everything worthwhile because of Him, whatever we possess is pure gratuity from God, whatever accolades we have received is due to Him. No one is a self-made man or woman. We have been created by God and continue to be sanctified and perfected by His hand. What we receive from Him, our salvation, sanctifying grace, the gift of eternal life, is not something we have earned or deserved through our own doing.
For one thing our sinfulness has damaged us, and our acts fall woefully short of God’s law of love. And yet, even if we were sinless, nothing human we could do would demand His grace. Not even human goodness can make a claim on a gift that comes from beyond our limited nature. By His own free gift God has become ours, and so is ours to boast of. Let him who boasts, says St Paul, boast of the Lord!
This is the reason why the values behind the Beatitudes listed in the gospel seem so foreign to so many people. If we are only paying attention to human achievements and see these as of utmost value, we will never be able to understand why poverty, hunger and thirst, meekness, grieving, persecution and suffering as something blessed and inherently good. The reason why these situations are considered blessed and causes for happiness is because the Beatitudes inherently point to and boast in God's doing rather than human achievement. They highlight a radical, counter-cultural way of life that is only made possible by God's grace and transforming power, not by one's own strength or merit.
The first beatitude, "happy are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of heaven," is foundational. It requires individuals to acknowledge their complete spiritual inadequacy and utter dependence on God, an attitude that shatters self-sufficiency and pride. This realisation forces a reliance on God's Providence and mercy alone. The blessings promised in the Beatitudes are God's gifts, not earned rewards. The ability to live a life characterised by these virtues—such as being merciful or pure in heart or being a peacemaker —is a result of the Holy Spirit working within us, conforming us to the image of Christ. In essence, the Beatitudes highlight that the transformed life of a follower of Jesus is a testament to God's work, power, and grace, not personal strength or achievement. They are a "blueprint for true happiness" that can only be followed with God's help.
Our God has no need of our praise. He is not so conceited (unlike us) that He constantly desires our adulations. He doesn't crave for our attention or affirmation as we obsessively do. It is also good to remember that God is not diminished by the lack of praises offered to Him, neither is He empowered by any amount of praise which we can offer Him. But it is we who are diminished when we forget to praise Him, to thank Him, to adore Him. We are made for this purpose. We were made to worship God, to give Him all glory and praise. So, when we fail to do so, we become less than human. When we do not worship God, we end up worshipping something else and in this age of acute narcissism, the most popular object of worship is ourselves. This is the reason why it is more common to boast of our own achievements than it is to boast of God’s goodness and graces.
And that is also the reason why the Holy Mass, the highest form of worship to God, is the greatest antidote to our narcissism. Why do so many people complain that Mass is boring? My answer is simply this – the Mass is inherently boring because it is not about us but about God. God is worshipped, not man. The Mass is not another opportunity to showcase our talents or achievements. When we examine what it means to experience “boredom”, it is that we are not the centre of the attention. Something or some activity is described as boring because we are not getting the attention we want from others.
So let us boast by praising not ourselves but God, not for anything we have of ourselves, but for what He has given us! This is at the heart of our worship rendered in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass which is our Thanksgiving offered to God. Let our hearts and our minds nurture His gifts, until He grants us our reward, that we may sing His praises forever in heaven! All glory and all praise belong to Him and Him alone!
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
The darkness seems to be a scary place. We can’t see where we are going, and we can’t identify hazards that might be surrounding us. Darkness feels empty. But the truth is that just because we can’t see what’s in a dark place, it doesn’t mean that there is nothing there. Darkness does not necessarily mean absence, and it certainly does not mean the absence of God. Darkness is a part of life, a backdrop for the stars at night, the space between what you know. Darkness has a way of reminding you of the light you’ve been given on all those other days. This unsettling truth emerges – You have to know the darkness before you can truly appreciate the light. It is that same darkness that makes us open to welcome the soothing rays of light.
The readings that we have heard today provide us with this compelling and consoling message of hope. The light of hope can even be found in the darkness of despair. The gospel is tied to the prophecy of Isaiah in the first reading. When Isaiah proclaimed the oracle, he perceived as darkness and gloom the fact that the northern kingdom was tottering under the blows of foreign oppression. For those who regarded this political crisis in the north as the death knell for the southern kingdom, Isaiah held out the hope of a light in the darkness. In the midst of human failure and defeat, Isaiah promised that those who remained faithful would be blessed with the light of victory. The fulfilment of the Isaian prophecy will not take place during the lifetime of the prophet, but it forms an apt description of what the birth of Jesus and His public ministry meant for the world living in darkness. Christ is the light who shines in the darkness of human need and suffering, Jesus’ advent is the saving dawn, the penetrating ray of justice and truth.
In the second reading, we are confronted with the painful truth that darkness is not just a reality kept at bay outside the confines of our Church. The truth of the matter is that the dark has insidiously crept into the Church and resides within its shadows. Personality cults, political affiliations, ideological positions threatened to break the unity of the Church of Corinth. Four competing groups had emerged with each claiming that its own leader was superior to other leaders and therefore that its version of the gospel was superior to that of the other groups. Paul, himself, had been dragged into this factious battle. Directly confronting each of these factional groups, and even his own party stalwarts, Paul reminded the Christians in Corinth of their basic unity in Christ. That unity, challenged Paul, was to supersede every human preference and was superior to every human wisdom, however attractive. With the light of Christ at her centre, the darkness of her members will never overcome the Church.
We continue to witness how the light of Christ can penetrate the darkness of humanity in the gospel today. It begins on a troubling note – a moment of darkness for Jesus - John the Baptist, his cousin and in some respects his mentor, has just been arrested by Herod for his defiant preaching in response to Herod's marriage. After hearing of the arrest of John, St Matthew tells us that Jesus withdrew to Galilee. Outwardly this may seem to be motivated by a feeling of personal defeat and fear. Such a reading may indicate the uncontested victory of darkness over the light, indeed over the very source of Light. But, Jesus’ withdrawal is not a flight from danger or a retreat into security. He withdraws to Galilee to prepare for a major comeback. It was like the dark sky right before the bright Morning Star appears. To defeat the darkness, He understands that He must enter into the very maelstrom of that darkness; He must be totally identified with the people characterised by Isaiah as the ones ‘who walked in darkness’ and ‘live in a deep shadow.’
Just as our Lord had called these first disciples to emerge from the darkness of their past and come into the light , it is crucial for each of us to recognise this personal call that Christ makes to us, to leave any and all darkness behind and follow Him into the light, to live and walk always illumined by Him. The Lord summons us to follow Him into the light so that we, in turn, can become His light. Discipleship is thus heeding the call to walk and live with Christ to follow Him on that pilgrimage out of the gloom and darkness of our existence.
If there is anyone here today who still walks in that darkness, do not grow too accustomed to it. When you spend too much time in the darkness, you will eventually find it more comfortable than the light. Come to His light — walk no longer in darkness! No matter how difficult things may seem, no matter how bleak, no matter how dark life may become, His light shines in the midst of darkness and the darkness can never overcome it.
And so here we are in the ordinariness of our daily existence, each moment poised between light and darkness – confronted with so many choices. We can choose to be positive or to be consumed by the negative, to live with hopeful optimism or cynical pessimism, to be trapped in fear or to be liberated by faith, to be children of the Light or of Darkness, to follow Christ or the world. It is a simple choice. It is a choice to be made by everyone, a choice that can change us and change our lives and change the world all around us. We can choose to be victims and be silent participants of a world that seems darkened by sin and death, drugs and violence, loneliness and despair, injustice and poverty, hostility and bigotry, hopelessness and cynicism, or we could choose to shine the light of Christ therein and allow that light to transform everything it touches. In the light of Christ, our vision is renewed, our strength rejuvenated, and our story changes - we come to realise that our story can be a story not of despair but one of hope, a journey from heartbreak to happiness, a journey from the dark into the light.
Remember “Buzz Lightyear” of the Toy Story fame? Well, he is named after the famous astronaut, Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, one of only two astronauts who stepped foot on the moon in 1969. Buzz carried this prayer with him, a prayer likely inspired by the famous prayer of St Patrick (the Lorica or Breastplate prayer). In the darkness and isolation of space, with only darkness as an “old friend,” this prayer must have been a blazing beacon of light pushing back all the darkness of the universe. May this be our prayer too:
The Light of God surrounds me;
The Love of God enfolds me;
The Power of God protects me;
The Presence of God watches over me;
Wherever I am, God is,
And all is well.
Amen. (‘Prayer of Protection,’ by James Dillet Freeman)
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
One of the most common come back lines in Malaysian colloquial speech when you feel that the other person is taking advantage of your good nature is “you think I’m your servant ah?” It’s used by mothers to sons who litter the floor with their unwashed socks and underwear and who don’t wash their own plates after a meal; “you think I’m your servant ah?” To a friend who seems to treat you with contemptuous over-familiarity who expects you to always pay when you go out for a meal or by ordering you around to do things which he could have easily done on his own: “you think I’m your servant ah?” The bottom line is this - it is insulting and demeaning to be treated like a servant. A real servant deserves better.
However, the first reading introduces us to this anonymous character of the Servant (which would be expanded in chapters 52 and 53). This mysterious figure is often described as the Suffering Servant, because Isaiah sets out in detail the suffering he has to endure at the hands of his enemies - he will be mocked, rejected, beaten and even killed. Who could this person be? Prophecies, being deliberately ambivalent, often tend to work on more than one level. From the passage we had just heard in the first reading, it would seem that Isaiah is referring first to himself - the prophet is the servant of God “who formed [him] in the womb to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him, to gather Israel to him.”
But then, there is also an allusion to the entire nation of Israel who is now in exile and in captivity in Babylon as being God’s Servant, entrusted with a mission: “I will make you the light of the nations so that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” So, to a people languishing in exile, wondering if they would ever be able to return to their beloved homeland, the prophecy comes as a powerful word of consolation.
But as Isaiah begins to develop the concept and extrapolate on the fate of this Servant, it becomes clearer that the prophecy had more to do with a person other than himself or the nation of Israel as a corporate personality. It is clear that the mission of the Servant is not just to liberate Israel, bring them home and restore the nation but would also serve as a beacon that will draw all nations to God.
Jesus perfectly embodies the Suffering Servant since He is "despised and rejected," gives His back to be beaten, and doesn't hide His face from shame. Like the Servant, Jesus endures mockery, abuse, and crucifixion without complaint, demonstrating profound communion with God even in suffering. And we all know that His suffering wasn’t for Himself but He endured it as bearing the sins of others, bringing healing and making reconciliation with God possible. The Servant is literally the One “who takes away the sin of the world.” This makes a perfect segue to the words of the Baptist in the gospel.
St John the Baptist does more than state the obvious. He marries the idea of the redemptive and rehabilitative mission of the Servant and that of the Chosen and Anointed One (the Messiah) with a lamb - in fact, this man, Jesus, is “THE Lamb of God that takes away the sin of the world.” The idea of a lamb may not be so apparent to us modern urban folks. Is the allusion only to a cute, cuddly farm animal which would end up on our dinner table? For the Jews at that time, the very mention of the lamb invokes an image of a Temple sacrifice. Lambs and other animals were reared to be sin offerings. In other words, they were the sacrificial substitutes that would have to die for our sins. Making confession those days was a bloody business. Blood had to be literally shed. Thank God, the blood of lambs would suffice.
But this was not introducing an idea which was alien to the original concept of the Servant in Isaiah’s prophecy. In fact, in Isaiah Chapter 53, the image of the Servant is described using the metaphor of a lamb who is slaughtered and one who ‘bears’ the sins of others (Is 53:4, 11). Once again, the death of the Servant whether it was the nation of Israel or a person, was meant to be a sin offering to bring spiritual benefits to the Gentiles.
It is clear that scripture does not view servanthood as a sign of weakness or even sees it as an insult if someone were to be called “servant.” The Servant of God was ultimately tasked with a great mission, He had to shoulder the work of liberating His people, drawing others to God and ultimately being a light to the nations. But He was the Servant of the Lord. He was God’s representative - the Chosen One of God. Yet, the Servant, by virtue of His designation, never shone the light on Himself. His life, His mission, His entire identity and purpose, was to shine the light on His Master.
And so, we see ourselves too in the light of others who took up the mantle of being “servants” of the Lord, just like Isaiah and John the Baptist, we are called to point others in the direction of Christ. Just the other day, someone commented (sarcastically I must add) that the launching of our Jubilee Year was full of drama. In other words, we seem to be all showmanship with little substance. I told the person, “As long as the drama glorifies God and not seek to glorify oneself … like you!”
The next time you seem to be given a thankless job of cleaning up after others or attending to their needs or taking up a responsibility without acknowledgment, don’t complain: “you think I’m your servant ah?” Rather, see it as an opportunity to give glory to God and witness to His greatness by readily offering your nothingness to Him and others. There is no job beneath you. Being a servant is not just choosing to be last; it is desiring to be last.
Recall the words of our Lord spoken to His disciples: “Whoever wants to be a leader among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first among you must become your slave. For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:26-28).
And there it is.
Do you want to be like Jesus? Serve others.
Do you want to be like Jesus? Choose to be last.
Do you want to be like Jesus? Be willing to sacrifice your life.
Be willing to set aside your preferences and desires for the preferences and desires of others.
If you dare to say, “I am a Christian,” be prepared to say: “I am a servant”.
Feast of the Baptism of the Lord
Several months ago, I attempted to provide a simple but lucid explanation of how God has favourites without having favourites. I’m not going to revisit that topic today for fear that I will be accused of being a broken record. Thank God for that! But I’m going to argue today that God does have one unique favourite person whom He loves above all else and I believe that none of you are going to protest and cry “not fair” because that person is none other than Jesus Himself, God’s Only Begotten Son, whom the Heavenly Father declares: “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.”
We can understand why God would favour our Lord Jesus Christ. Though we are all His children by adoption through baptism, Jesus alone is the unique only begotten Son of the Father, who has been with the Father from the very beginning and as we profess in the Creed: “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God”. If we are to compare ourselves with Him, the analogy of comparing an apple to an orange doesn’t even come close.
But with such special favour, there also arises a great mission and responsibility. Remember the Peter Parker principle from Spider-Man? “With great power comes great responsibility!” And this is why we hear in the first reading, what it means to be a favourite of God? The Spirit of the Lord is given to Him as we witness in the scene of the Baptism in order that He “may bring true justice to the nations.” He has been appointed “as covenant of the people and light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison, and those who live in darkness from the dungeon.” But there is a dark side to this mission. As the archetype for all fictional heroes, He must suffer, often in silence, in meekness, refusing to break or retaliate even when He is treated with humiliation and violence by His enemies. The Hero, the Anointed One, will be vilified and hated even though He saves the day. This is what the Beloved of God, the Favourite of God must endure. So, do you still want to be His favourite?
But we are indeed called to be God’s Beloved, called to be His favourites, all of us and not just some of us. Herein lies what I find to be the deepest mystery at the heart of baptism, and indeed at the heart of the whole sacramental order: there are certain actions Christ performed that, when performed by us within the context of His Body the Church, allow us to share in His very nature and mission in the world. In other words, 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 Him, to graft ourselves into His very life, to serve as He serves and to give our lives as He did. This is the mystery of the Incarnation - God became man so that men may become gods.
It is significant that this feast should take place on the first Sunday in Ordinary Time (even though there is no first Sunday in Ordinary Time). The reason being is that lectionary of Ordinary Time presents us with a scriptural catechesis of the very life and mission of Christ. And so this feast serves as an introduction to the entire life and mission of Christ. And should anyone have any doubt as to why we should even look to Christ as a model or imitate Him, the Church or God Himself gives the answer: “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.” If there should be anyone in this world that we should look up to and seek to emulate, there can be no better model than Jesus, God’s Beloved Son and Favourite.
For many of us, our most common and seemingly very human response to knowing that God has favourites, would be to view this person with envy. But is that the correct response? In fact, the Church is in the business of holding up human examples of those who seem to have found favour with God. We call them saints. The Church does this not because she wishes to see us seething with envy but because she wants us to be saints too. To be a saint, in fact to be a Christian, is to be more Christ-like. A Christian is a “little Christ.”
So, it is a foolish distraction to become discouraged or envious of someone else’s progress in holiness! When we run into other people or read about saints who experience a deep, intimate relationship with God, we are faced with a choice. We can either envy them this intimacy – becoming angry and vindictive towards them because they have achieved a degree of holiness that we have not achieved. Or we can emulate them – we can acknowledge the beauty of the holiness they have achieved and use their experience as a spur to our own efforts pursuing spiritual maturity. The second option is the better one: when we encounter people holier than ourselves, they should inspire us to continue following the “narrow road” (Matthew 7:14) that leads to the life we long for. So, my dear friends, as we begin this New Year, as we begin a new cycle of Ordinary Time, let your discouragement be driven out by hope; let your frustration be banished by faith; and let your frown be erased by love. Let Hebrews 12:1 be your baptismal and life’s motto: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us.”
Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord
Epiphany is like a riddle that needs unravelling. It gets convoluted when we try to number the kings that make up the story. There is Herod the Great who is King of that time. Though he has self-styled himself with that “Great” appendage, he is a mere vassal, a puppet ruler beholden to the Romans ruling. Then we have Jesus whom the magi declare as “the infant king of the Jews,” a title that is ironically prophetic because it would appear once again under order of the Roman authorities on the plaque or titulus which hung over the head of Jesus on the cross. Finally, we have the unspecified number of wise men or magi from the East who have been immortalised as “three Kings from Orient”, who were most likely astrologers who were experts in magical divination rather than of royal lineage. Over the centuries, the Wise Men were given names–Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar - and they were venerated as saints. In fact, if you go to the Cathedral in Cologne, Germany, you will find relics alleged to be the remains of the Wise Men. How did the wise men of our story become the three kings of song and tradition? Despite what modern people would refute, there may be biblical evidence to support the tradition.
Isaiah predicted that at a time of darkness, the glory of the Lord will shine over Jerusalem. The heavenly light will be a beacon to the pagan nations and even to their kings. The prophecy of Isaiah may be one of the reasons why these Magi are often associated with kings. Despite the regular chastisement on the accuracy of this tradition from the pulpit (that there were an indeterminate number of wise men recorded in the gospel instead of the popular three kings), this has little effect on popular culture such as carols and Christmas pageant plays where children compete to be dressed in the splendorous costumes of these royal figures. As for the number of Magi which traditionally is set at three, no mention of their numbers can be found in St Matthew’s story. The three gifts which they bear may be the reason for concluding that there were three wise men or kings who visited the Christ-child. God forbid if they had to share Christmas or birthday presents.
Now that we’ve uncovered a possible reason for identifying the Magi with the three kings, it would be good to see the difference between Isaiah’s prophecy and the actual fulfilment of that prophecy in the visit of the Magi. It has to do with the number of gifts. On the matter of gifts, I often recall the gifts that were brought by the fairies to the christening of Sleeping Beauty. Each gift was a blessing save the penultimate one - the wicked and vengeful fairy who was not invited to the party, conferred on the child the gift of death. The last fairy, though she could not undo this curse entirely, blunted it by transforming the curse of death into a long sleep that could only be awakened with a prince’s kiss. Doesn’t that sound like the work of Christ in blunting death’s blow through the gift of the resurrection?
I digress. Let’s come back to our story of the gifts in the readings. Isaiah only mentions two - gold and incense - but St Matthew mentions three - gold, frankincense (which is a type of incense) and myrrh. The omission of the third gift in Isaiah’s prophecy and its inclusion in St Matthew’s list, is telling. It serves as a clue and shows that a particular aspect was missing from the Jewish expectation of the Messiah based on the Old Testament but was made clearer in the revelation of the New Testament. And the third gift is crucial to our story.
The three gifts have often been described as symbols - gold for a king and incense for a deity. This child is indeed a King but more than a king, He is God Incarnate, thus deserving not just our adulation but also our adoration. But what about the myrrh, which is mentioned in the gospel but omitted in Isaiah’s prophecy –where does that come from and what does it mean?
Myrrh, an aromatic resin, was used in preparing the dead for burial. It was used to anoint corpses to mask the stench and also served to preserve the body from immediate decay. There we have it - the missing link that completes the prophecy of the future fate of this child. Gold reveals that the babe in the manger is actually a king; frankincense tells us that He is God Incarnate; but myrrh reveals to us that this King, who is in fact our God, has come to die.
That someone would redeem God’s people through suffering and death was never part of the Jewish expectation of their Messiah. They failed to make a connexion between their expectation of a triumphant and glorious Messiah, with the Suffering Servant spoken of by Isaiah a few chapters earlier (Isaiah 53). This was the really hard thing for those living in Jesus’ time to comprehend –that the same person who fulfilled all those prophecies about a glorious new king, also fulfilled the prophecies about a mysterious figure in Isaiah’s prophecy who must suffer at the hands of His tormentors and enemies.
It would be good if we just stuck to the first two gifts. Many would have little to no objections to accept this child as their king. It may be far more difficult to acknowledge His divine nature but we can still work that into our formulae. But perhaps the most challenging aspect of this revelation is that this King, our deathless God, should choose to die. All three gifts of the Magi, however, are necessary to complete the true revelation, the true epiphany of who this child is, and what He is destined to do. We must never lose sight of this; that He is at once our King, our God, and Saviour who dies for us, for if any one of these aspects of His identity is omitted, He ceases to be who He truly is, He will not be the Saviour that we would need.
So, here as we had just heard from the Proclamation of the date of Easter and Moveable Feasts, distant rumblings of the Paschal event: the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord. Here in the gifts presented by the Magi, especially in the last gift, we see the inseparable link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.
Tradition gives us the names of the Magi -Caspar, Balthasar, Melchior. But the fact that Matthew gives them no names is telling. They may be kings, but in this story they are merely supporting actors. They follow the true Star, the King of Kings. Only His name is important. The Feast of the Epiphany is not about the Magi–it’s all about Jesus. And just like the Bethlehem star, their very presence and gifts reveal to us who this Child is - He is our King whom we must obey and serve, He is our Lord and God whom we must worship and finally, He is our Saviour who will die for us in expiation of our sins.
Venite Adoremus - Come let us adore Him.
Solemnity of Mary Mother of God
In this short passage, we can glean four themes or names (both current and former) of today’s feast. There is an element of thanksgiving as we reminisce. The passage also points to two earlier names given to today’s feast, the Feast of the Circumcision of the Lord and the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus, in Jewish custom, both these titles commemorate the same event. And of course, we are reminded once again that Mary is the mother of Jesus and that Jesus is no ordinary child. He is the Son of God which makes our Lady the Mother of the Son of God, or in short, the Mother of God.
But today I would like to focus on what Mary did when she heard the report of the heavenly host of angels and their message intended for this child from the lips of humble shepherds. Instead of a petulant, sulking and exhausted young mother adversely reacting to all the mishaps on that first Christmas night, a nightmarish disaster, we see the exact opposite - a woman who was composed, meditative and grateful. This is how St Luke describes Mary’s composure and demeanour: “she treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart.”
The Greek word for “treasured”, syneterei, means “kept save” or “protected.” It is used twice to speak of Mary’s reaction to the events of the infancy of her child, Jesus. The first instance is here in today’s gospel passage after she had given birth, and the shepherds had left. Then later at the end of Chapter 2, we see Mary reacting to another incident in the life of her child, now a young adolescent. Those of you with children transitioning into teenage years will know how this story resonates with you. She and Joseph had just lost their 12-year-old in the Temple, and upon finding Him, they must have been shocked by His nonchalance attitude. Yet, St Luke again tells us ‘His mother treasured all these things in her heart’.
The word ‘treasure’ has to do with what has most value to us. And sometimes we do not really appreciate the value of something until we’ve lost it. When something is common-place and readily available, we often treat it with contempt because we know that if we were to lose it, it would be so convenient to buy a replacement off the shelf. But when something is rare, we will appreciate its true value when we no longer have it. The months of lockdown during the pandemic has been a painful experience for many, especially Catholics deprived of the Eucharist due to the shuttering of churches. So many Catholics later shared with me how the absence of the Eucharist in their lives had led to an insatiable and painful hunger. Online Masses can only provide so much band-aid to a Catholic deprived of the sacraments, but it cannot fill the gaping hole in his starving soul. But those months of social distancing had also helped them cultivate a deep longing for what they had often taken for granted and have little thought of, once received.
To treasure is not just at the heart of gratitude but the way of prayer. Christian prayer begins in treasuring and pondering these things. And through prayer, every experience, whether painful or sweet, can be transformed into gratitude. That’s where Mary shows us the way, with regard to our own life and experience. Now most people will tell you that it is easy to ‘treasure these things’ when the events and words are all positive. We treasure sweet memories, the highlights of successes and achievements, we immortalise what is favourable to us by filling our display cabinets, walls and photo albums with trophies, memorabilia, and photographs, reminders of the most positive and memorable experiences in our lives.
But Mary shows us that we can’t be selective when we wish to “treasure” things. The befuddlement she must have experienced upon hearing the angel’s announcement, the prospect of being rejected and stoned to death if it was known that she was with child without being married, the arduous journey to Bethlehem while she was heavily pregnant, the inhospitable and unsanitary conditions in which she had to deliver her child and the visit of a rag-tag group of undesirables in the form of shepherds, the inability to fully comprehend the nature and mission of her child and finally, the horror of having to witness her own Son’s execution, would have been some of the things which she had to endure, treasure and ponder upon.
The painful as much as the pleasant, what breaks the heart as much as what fills it with joy is to be contemplated, prayed and be grateful for. This is what we do when we look back at the events of last year. This is what Mary teaches us. That’s the example she shows. Prayer in this contemplative sense is for all of us, because all our lives are a mixture of what pleases and what pains, and all the grey areas in between. All our experiences, be they welcomed or unwelcomed, are to be the subject matter of our prayer. Our Blessed Mother was able to hold the terrible tension and pain of these long moments without wilting or breaking down or sinking into despair. To ponder in this sense is no joke; prayer in this sense is no joy, to be grateful in this sense requires more than human effort. It is all endurance and grace.
Mary’s experiencing of treasuring and pondering helps us to see that God didn’t abandon us even when all is dark and uncertain. If suffering provides us opportunities to love others, trials will give us opportunities to grow in faith and the uncertainties of the future will give us more opportunities to place our hope in the Lord. So, on this day as we celebrate a new calendar year, as we celebrate Mary’s Divine motherhood, as we thank God for the gift of Mary as our mother too, we look ahead into the unknown future, knowing that our God will never desert us no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in. It is also a day to be thankful, to be grateful, for all the opportunities we have been given this past year. Mary teaches us that with Jesus by our side, that’s a blessing we should never ever take for granted.
This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.
