Fasting and Feasting

Ash Wednesday

Yesterday was the first day of Chinese New Year, just in case you missed it on your calendar. For those who had been celebrating, it would be close to two whole days of food binging, close to a Roman food orgy. I guess with the Malaysian food culture of having ‘loh-sang’ a month before the actual day, some of you may have been gouging for an entire month. But today it ends. The feasting has ended and the fasting has begun, except for those of you who are availing of the regional bishops dispensation of the obligation to fast, which is actually a deference rather than an outright cancellation of the obligation. Your sentence is reprieved till this Friday. Enjoy it while it last!

Fasting and feasting may seem like opposites on a spectrum. And in fact, some may feel guilty that you are still feasting despite the dispensation from the bishops while others would look on their neighbours with scrutinising judgment for having given in to the temptations of the flesh or stomach. But did you know that there is a deep connexion between the two, especially within Catholic theology and culture?

In many historically Catholic countries, the period that immediately precedes the Lenten season is marked by celebrations that are collectively known as Carnival or Carnivale. The Carnival typically involves a public celebration or parade combining elements of a circus, mask and public street parties. People often dress up or masquerade during this entire week of celebrations, overturning the often mundane norms of daily life. It often seems ironic and even scandalous that the austere, penitential and holy season of Lent is preceded by this orgiastic display of frivolous and drunken debauchery. It’s as if all the rich food and drink, pleasures and luxuries, and excesses of every kind, had to be consumed and disposed of in preparation for the Lenten fast and abstinence. The word "carnival" literally means "farewell to meat."

But there is a necessary juxtaposition of Carnival and Lent. There can be no Carnival without Ash Wednesday, and the significance of Ash Wednesday and Lent will be lost upon us if life did not have its Carnival. All things have their season – there is a season for feasting, and a season for fasting. This becomes most apparent this year when Ash Wednesday, the day of fasting, follows immediately after the cultural celebration and feasting of the Lunar New Year. For some of us the feasting has ended. For others, it continues for a few more days with the blessing of the bishops. But ultimately, we must eventually begin our fasting. This is the time when the Church invites us to reexamine and reorder all aspects of our life. We can see the contrast of Carnival indulgence and Lenten fasting not just in foods, but in all areas of life. Carnival puts into perspective the things we need to give up in Lent.

Our pre-Lenten celebrations and preparations provide us with a graphic illustration of the message of Lent, that we are fools, if we who seek our final end in earthly things! The Church, during this season of Lent, will show you where true happiness may be found, Who it is that brought it, and how He merited it for us. The pre-Lenten Carnival celebrations, despite their rollicking good fun and general merriment, really had a deadly serious objective. This is what the gaudy and rancorous parades of Carnival represent - the “princes of this world,” in all their tinselly splendour, followed by a long train of personified human vices, sins and infirmities, solemnly enters the city gate and takes possession of the town.

The performers are all arrayed in their costumes with the purpose of portraying Death, the World, Vanity, Beauty, Sin of every kind, human wealth, suffering, the joys and sorrows of human life, etc. This is not a triumphant procession of a victorious army. But a ridiculous motley crew of defeated individuals that are being subjected to mockery and humiliation. It is the procession of the defeated forces of the world, of sin, of vice and the devil. It is a Walk of Shame, not a Victory Parade. It’s a parody of the triumphant procession of our true King, Christ, as He enters His City at the end of Lent and the start of Holy Week.

Thus did the merriment of the passing hour imperfectly conceal a stern seriousness. This was the means the Church took to warn her children not to be spiritual fools. Piercing through the noise and fun-making, and clearly heard by all, was the warning voice: “Be careful not to parade your good deeds before men to attract their notice.” A further warning that all we aspire to accomplish, all that we hope to acquire and possess is merely “vanity of vanities, all is vanity.” Only one thing is necessary: Save your soul; give heed to what the Church will command you during the coming season of Lent. The words that accompany the imposition of holy ashes ring true, “Repent and believe in the Gospel.”

Certainly, if the world were given a choice between Carnival and Lent, Carnival is the more popular choice of the two. Let’s be honest, who doesn’t love a good party? And yet, Carnival must find its ultimate meaning in Lent. It is the austerity of Lent, the penance of Lent, the prophetic self-renunciation of Lent that truly prepares us for the apex Carnival celebration of life, which is Easter. St. Augustine can serve us as a safe guide during this period of preparation for Lent, and of course, during the season itself, too. “The pagans,” he says, “present each other with gifts of friendship, but you should give alms during these days of wickedness. They shout their songs of love and pleasure; you must learn to find joy in the hearing of the word of God. They run eagerly to the theatre; you must flock to the churches. They guzzle their drinks; you must be temperate and fast.”

Thus, the prayers and gospels of the season of Lent attempt to awaken us to a profound realisation of the fact that only through penance and through uncompromising rejection of sin, that is, through a thorough change of heart, can we partake of the redemption of Christ. Through His incarnation, His passion and death, Christ gained for us the graces of salvation without any merit on our part. But only a heart freed from sin and evil inclinations can become the field producing fruit fifty and a hundred-fold for the divine Sower. Whoever refuses to toil at purifying his sin-laden heart will of necessity remain in fatal darkness, and the light of salvation and grace will not reach him. After the feasting that ended yesterday, let us now begin our fasting. And after the long winter of fasting from the pleasures and delights of the world, we will be guaranteed a rich harvest of spiritual fruits that comes with a springtime of the Soul.

Reversing the Outcome

First Sunday of Lent Year A

One of the characteristics of being human is the ability to feel regret for the mistakes we’ve done. If we could only turn back the clock and do it all over again, which is simply wishful thinking. Most of us would have to simply live with our past mistakes and it would be almost impossible to correct them. We end up having to pay for our misdeeds for the rest of our lives.

But the good news is that what is impossible for Man, is possible for God. And so the gospel passage which tells us how our Lord faces off the devil and successfully refuses to succumb to temptation is not just a motivational story that if Jesus can do it, so can we, but a story of how the Lord has rewritten the ending of the story of the Fall of Adam and Eve, which we heard in the first reading. Our Lord Jesus didn’t have to travel back in time to do this, although He could, He simply reversed the outcome of the story of the first temptation and shows us how things could and can turn out differently.

The lectionary, by choosing to juxtapose the two events, the temptation of our first parents and the temptation of Jesus, wishes us to see the stark contrast of conditions, decisions and outcomes. The first story begins in a situation that can only be described as abundance. Adam and Eve were in a lush garden, they were not bereft of food or even choices, they had everything including the friendship and company of God, nothing was lacking, yet they doubted God’s goodness and authority. Despite all that God had given them which would have lasted any mortal being countless of lifetimes, it was just not enough. That famous song from the Great Showman, “Never Enough,” should be humankind’s theme song. Greed and jealousy do not come from a place of scarcity. They emerge from a vacuous heart which is originally made for God but now turned inwards.

On the other hand, the story of our Lord begins in the wilderness, the desert, a place of scarcity. Yet despite that scarcity, our Lord did not hunger for the allures of this world - food, money, power, popularity. The reason being is that His heart was already full, it was filled with the love of God. God was enough, He needed nothing more. Our Lord was in a desolate wilderness, physically weak, yet He trusted the Father enough to resist the lies of the devil. He refused to take an "easy way out" through sin, choosing to fulfill His mission through suffering. For that is what the three temptations He faced entailed - they were easy and convenient ways of getting the job done, “saving” the world, without having to make any sacrifices, lose any friends, or spill any blood. Likewise, Adam and Eve were tempted with an easy path to divinity. They were promised that if they ate the forbidden fruit, they “will be like gods.” They had forgotten that they were already like gods, children of God, living in a home with God.

The threefold temptation of Jesus mirrors that of Adam and Eve in the garden. They follow the threefold nature of the worldly things spelt out by St John in his epistle. In an exhortation to his flock, John warns them: “Do not love the world or what is in the world. If anyone does love the world, the love of the Father finds no place in him, because everything there is in the world - disordered bodily desires, disordered desires of the eyes, pride in possession - is not from the Father but is from the world. And the world, with all its disordered desires, is passing away. But whoever does the will of God remains for ever” (1 John 2:15-17). Doesn’t this passage wonderfully lay out the choice that is before us? We either choose the world that is passing or God who remains for ever. This is the battle we must undergo during Lent.

So, let us have a closer look at the three areas described in 1 John 2:16.

First, we have “bodily desires” or “lust of the flesh.” Eve was tempted with fruit that was "good to eat". In fact, God had pronounced that all fruits of the trees in the garden were “good to eat”, save for the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil which was forbidden. Eve acknowledges to the serpent that God had given clear instructions: “You must not eat it, nor touch it, under pain of death.” And just like how we today can’t resist food that are good to eat but not good for our bodies and health, Adam and Eve also gave in to the temptation of the flesh. On the other hand, our Lord was tempted to turn stones into bread after 40 days of fasting. He reminds us that obeying God’s Word, that is His commands, is far more important and life-giving than giving in to the urges of the flesh. This is why the Church encourages us to fast and perform penances during this holy season to strengthen our resolve, strengthen our self-discipline in order to put a rein on unbridled passions of the flesh.

Next, John tells us to beware of “disordered desires of the eyes” or “lust of the eyes.” Eve saw that the fruit was "enticing to look at". What is denied is often more desirable and pleasurable. This second lust has been compounded in the modern age by the proliferation of pornographic material on the internet, the sexualisation that you see in advertisements and movies. In the past, there were more stringent censorship and you had limited access to printed pornography. But today, this is easily available with little effort with the click of a mouse or the scroll on your phone. Our Lord Jesus, however, did not succumb to this temptation when shown all the kingdoms of the world in a moment. Lent is a good time to bring back the ancient ascetic practice of “custody of the eyes,” which entails intentionally controlling one's gaze to avoid sinful, immodest, or distracting sights, thereby protecting the soul's purity. It involves moderating digital media consumption, avoiding "near occasions of sin," and fostering interior recollection. Instead of looking at the world and all its allures, train your eyes to gaze interiorly to make constant examination of conscience and upwardly to God in prayer.

Finally, John warns us that the world offers “pride in possession,” the mother and queen of vices. The serpent promised Eve she would "be like God". Most people often think that pride is merely a narcissistic character flaw, that is undue estimation with oneself and one’s achievements. But it is so much more. At the heart of this sin, the very sin that made angels into devils and which led our first parents to fall, is a rebellion against God. Every proud man eventually turns his back on God. A god will not tolerate the authority of another god. Power cannot be shared by the proud man. On the other hand, our Lord was tempted to throw Himself from the temple to force God's hand, proving His divinity. Instead, He reminded the devil that we should not test God’s authority. God will be God and not just a pawn to be manipulated by our every whim and fancy. The truth is that we cannot be gods through our own efforts but only by God’s doing. God had to become man, and He did in Jesus, in order for men to become gods.

So, back to our first question? Could things have turned out differently if Adam had obeyed when tempted in the garden? Of course! The Church declares at the Mass of the Easter Vigil, that Adam’s mistake, this fault, was indeed a “Felix culpa,” literally a “happy fault”. The reason being that it is happy and even “necessary” is because it resulted in a greater good: the incarnation and redemption of humanity by Jesus Christ. God can bring a greater good out of evil, He can bring victory out of defeat. Jesus, the New Adam, is proof of this.

And so, we too can reverse the outcome of sin through repentance and obedience to God and His commandments. We are not indefinitely trapped in our past mistakes but can chart a new course forward by following the example of our Lord. We may be victims of the Old Adam, but we can now be victors under the New One, Jesus. Happy Lent!

Obedience brings true wisdom, greater freedom and happiness

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

One of the things which Malaysians pride themselves in is being able to get around bureaucracy and inconvenient laws. From evading taxes, beating traffic red lights to double parking along roads, Malaysians are adept at finding loopholes to beat the system. The Italians have a word for it - “furbizia.” I’ve come up with my own phrase that best describes it: “there is no law till you’re caught.”

Unfortunately, many Christians also believe likewise in terms of Church laws. Three myths seem to justify either outright disobedience or mere flexibility in the application of the law.

First, these laws are just arbitrary laws, they have no basis in reason nor are they practical.

Second, these laws are primarily external and imposed by human authority.

Finally, these laws would keep us from doing what would make us happy. People who obey laws are rigid, dowdy and wet blankets.

But today’s readings provide us with a contrarian view. From the first reading to the gospel, we can discern a consistent thread that reminds us that obedience to the Law brings with it true wisdom, greater freedom and happiness.

In the first reading, taken from a piece of Wisdom literature, Ecclesiasticus, the author starts off by asserting that God does not compel us to keep His commandments but rather affords us true freedom to choose: “If you wish, you can keep the commandments, to behave faithfully is within your power.” But does this mean that He does not have His own preference or He has left us to our own designs? The answer comes at the end of the passage where we are told in no uncertain terms: “He never commanded anyone to be godless, he has given no one permission to sin.” This is reflected in the teachings encapsulated in the Catechism of the Catholic Church. “The exercise of freedom does not imply a right to say or do everything” (CCC 1740) but it is “the power to act or not to act, and so to perform deliberate acts of one's own. Freedom attains perfection in its acts when directed toward God, the sovereign Good” (1744). In other words, the more we align ourselves to the will of God, which is saying that the more we faithfully obey God’s commandments, we will achieve greater freedom.

Next, the psalmist makes an audacious claim by asserting that “they are happy who follow God’s laws.” If we try, we can imagine the logic behind following God’s laws but to claim that we derive happiness therefrom may seem even more outrageous. But understanding that this statement is a beatitude helps us understand how something which is generally considered burdensome (at least in modern eyes) can be considered a reason for joy, for aren’t all the beatitudes which we heard our Lord preach during the Sermon on the Mount equally perplexing as they spell out a list of otherwise unhappy scenarios as reasons for being happy. But if we understand the wisdom of obeying God’s laws, we would also come to understand the reason why the man who obeys is happy. This is because by aligning ourselves to God’s will, we will be liberated instead of shackled. For this reason, the person who lives a moral life in obedience to the law of Christ is ultimately happier. This is clear when you consider the person who has completely given themselves to virtue and the person who has completely given themselves to vice. The former is aflame with love; the latter is mired in addiction and darkness.

If you believe that the Psalmist and the author of Ecclesiasticus both have a certain Old Testament bias towards the law, a bias which was overturned by the radical nature of our Lord’s teaching, you need to read and reread the gospel. In our Lord Jesus’ own words: “Do not imagine that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets. I have come not to abolish but to complete them. I tell you solemnly, till heaven and earth disappear, not one dot, not one little stroke, shall disappear from the Law until its purpose is achieved. Therefore, the man who infringes even one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be considered the least in the kingdom of heaven; but the man who keeps them and teaches them will be considered great in the kingdom of heaven.” I believe that there is no need to extrapolate on this. Slam dunk!

If Jesus is considered radical in His treatment of the Law, it was not to lower its standard or blunt its edginess. On the contrary, His radical treatment of the Law was to raise the standard. If the world says, “Why do more when you can do less?”, our Lord retorts in a non-exhaustive series of examples: “why do less when you can do so much more?” Our Lord is challenging us not to just fulfil the bare minimum or to find loopholes in the Law or to do it out of obligation. He challenges each of us to do it out of love of God and neighbour. When something is done out of love, it is done with freedom and not as a burden. The only compulsion comes from wanting to love more and not because we are forced to do so out of fear of some threat of punishment.

So, contrary to the three myths concerning the Law and obedience to it, we should now view observance of the Law in this fashion:

First, moral laws are arbitrary, they are rooted in human nature. The more obedient we are to God’s laws, the more human we become.

Second, these laws are internal. We were not just “born this way”. We were made like this – to know God, to love Him, to serve Him and be with Him in paradise forever. The Author of the universe is showing you a road-map to happiness and Heaven, and a map of your own soul.

Lastly, living the moral life by obeying God’s laws is the key to happiness. That is why sainthood is also described as divine beatitude, divine happiness. Holiness is the epitome of happiness. You will not find a sad saint in heaven. On the other hand, the denizens in hell are the saddest creatures to have ever exist. But their sorrow is of their choosing.

So, the next time you think of circumventing the law by justifying it with some flimsy excuse or another, think twice. There is a Law, a law that stands behind all just laws, and don’t make the mistake of pretending that it doesn’t exist until you are caught. The Law of Love demands more of us, not less. It demands our best and our greatest! And if you have not been on board in obeying His commands, let this be the reason for us to change course, to undergo metanoia (repentance), so that we may submit to the will of the One who alone can give us true freedom and eternal happiness.

God first, Others second, me last

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Many of you would know that I am not a man of few words. In fact, there will be some of you who will complain that I often suffer from the predilection of having too many words - a condition called verbal diarrhoea. So, if you would like me to just give you the summary of all that I’ve spoken of in a nutshell, I guess it would come in this simple life hack, “God first, others second, me last!”

Let’s take the first part of that dictum - God first above all else. We have St Paul in the second reading telling the Corinthians that his oratory skills were not meant for self-aggrandisement but rather he had come to them in weakness and with “great fear and trembling”, in order to demonstrate “the power of the Spirit.” His entire witnessing was not to showcase “human philosophy” or the greatness of human thinking, but rather to highlight or spotlight “the power of God.” It’s good for all of us to make this a rule of life. Instead of seeking to be in the spotlight, drawing attention to ourselves, seeking the praises and approval of others, let our every action rather be one which glorifies God and God alone, even at the expense of showing up our weakness and limitations.

Isaiah in the first reading takes up the second portion of the dictum, if God comes first, then others must always come second. To a people who believe that righteousness and holiness is only confined to “looking” holy or be seen to be doing “holy things,” Isaiah instead sets out God’s command to serve others, especially the weak and the marginalised. He is contrasting genuine service of the Lord with the merely exterior practices of religion, the conventional ways in which we may seem to be ‘holy’ people. In fact, however, holiness is all a matter of the heart, and – at any rate in this text – mostly a matter of seeing and serving God in other people. That is the only way our light can really shine in the darkness, and our own wounds be healed over.

In today’s gospel, instead of being prescriptive like what the first and second reading does, our Lord uses metaphors which are descriptive - to speak of how we are to put God first and others second. He tells us that we are “the salt of the earth” and “the light of the world”. In addition to these familiar metaphors, our Lord adds a third, a “city.” The Greek etymology of the word for city (polis) links it to its people (poloi), to its human residents. All three metaphors have something in common. Salt does not exist for itself, but to season or preserve things; light does not exist for itself, but to brighten its surroundings; the city on the hill is constructed to provide security to its residents. The purpose and excellence of each item lies in its potential to give something to others. Salt, light and a city only exist to serve others.

So, what do we Christians have to offer others when we think of these three metaphors? The first is attraction. Good food attracts, beautiful lights attract, well-planned cities attract. This is a reminder that one of the most powerful ways of evangelisation is by showcasing the beauty of Christ, the beauty of the Christian faith and the beauty of the Church. Pope Francis reminds us that “it is not by proselytising that the Church grows, but by attraction.” (Evangelii Gaudium # 15) St. Francis de Sales, who drew many Protestants back to the Catholic faith through his gentle evangelisation, tells us that “a spoonful of honey attracts more flies than a barrel full of vinegar.” His example shows us that a life of Christian charity, virtue, and devotion can draw many souls to Christ and His Church.

But these metaphors also remind Christians that we are also meant to reveal, to expose and finally to defend. What is most immediately obvious in these metaphors is the implication that there is something deficient in the world that we live in. By saying that we are the “salt of the earth,” is implying that the world is tasteless. There is a rot setting in, which is tearing our world apart. Also, with the image of light that our Lord introduces, there is the implication that this world is a dark place. The world is in need of refreshing light—life-giving light. People are filling the void with stuff and senseless pleasures, countless things that do not satisfy. And finally, when speaking of us as a “city on a hill”, the world is shown up for its hostility and inhospitality, where so many are seeking for refuge, for sanctuary, for a place to call “home”. The truth is that we are witnessing a world that has become increasingly darker, blander, and uninhabitable.

As “salt”, the Christian is to counteract the power of sin. As “light” we are to illuminate or make visible. As a “city on a hill” we are meant to provide a sanctuary to those who are lost or spiritually homeless. Our lives are to be an on-going witness to the reality of Christ's presence in our lives. As salt, light and a city built on a hill, we are meant to give testimony to the profound joy of walking with God. We become salt and light when the world sees us turning to God rather than inwardly towards ourselves, when we touch lives for good, when we affirm rather than gossip and criticise, listen rather than judge, forgive rather than get even. The Church is meant to be a beacon of hope in a world lost in moral confusion and enveloped in the darkness of sin. That beacon is bright and unmistakable in its purpose. It warns of danger. It directs to safe harbour. It provides hope for those who have lost hope. Ultimately, we are meant to “reveal” that Christ is that certain security from danger; He is our safe harbour, and ultimately He is the true source of light. We are meant to be beacons showing the way to Him.

We will soon be entering the season of Lent in another two weeks and we will be reminded on the first day of Lent, Ash Wednesday, to NOT pray, give alms and fast in public for the sole purpose of attracting attention to ourselves and seeking the praises of others. How do we reconcile that warning with what we have heard today? Here’s a good rule of thumb. When it comes to God and drawing others to Him, we should never hide our light, dull our taste or isolate ourselves. But when it comes to showcasing ourselves, we must choose to hide our light, mask our edge and retreat into the shadows so that only the light of Christ may shine brightly for others to see. The former witnesses to Christ, while the latter only seeks to promote oneself. The former seeks praises for God, the second seeks praises for oneself.

The option of living a sheltered secluded life is never open to us. The Lord does not need a Church that hides and isolates itself from the world. Rather, God needs Christians who live exemplary and visible Christian lives in the world and demonstrate that joy and fulfillment that come not of the world but through the life in the Spirit and the radical following of Christ. And so, God calls us into the darkness where our light will make a difference – to illumine and expose. He calls us among those who find life utterly tasteless—to be salt – to create a spiritual thirst for God. He calls us to societies made up of lonely, isolated and individualistic persons – to build a city, a community of love, life and peace. When doing so, always remember: “God first, others second and me last.” Ultimately “you must shine in the sight of men, so that, seeing your good works, they may give praise to your Father in heaven.”

No longer I who live

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!

Boast of the Lord

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!

The Light of God surrounds me

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)