skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Palm Sunday of the Passion of the Lord
The gospel reading before the procession sets out the familiar scene of our Lord’s triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The lectionary provides us with slightly different versions of the same event and we are treated to St Matthew’s version this year. If you suffer from some pedantic streak like me, a connoisseur of the minutest and sometimes seemingly most insignificant details, you would notice a certain anomaly in the text. It is the mount of our Lord. It is not a single animal as mentioned in the other parallel text but two! The reason for the omission of a second beast in Mark and Luke could be due to neither quoting from the prophecy of Zechariah. Matthew, however, in fulfilment of the prophecy of Zechariah, which he quotes, and our Lord’s own prophetic instructions to His disciples, has the disciples bring an “ass and the colt.” I’m not sure about you but the thought of having two steeds instead of one strikes me as funny. Imagine our Lord straddling two animals like a circus performer.
Before we examine this seemingly strange phenomenon of having two animals, let us have a closer look at the original text in Zechariah 9:9. It is a messianic prophecy which speaks of the King (the Messiah) coming to His people in humility riding on an animal. The expression is easily explained as a common type of poetic emphasis used in Old Testament times. The Messiah sits on an animal. It is an ass. More than that, it is a colt, the foal of an ass, meaning very young. Therefore, most would take it (and this is what Mark and Luke does) to mean one animal instead of two. The language used is not a reference to an ass and a colt but rather to an ass which is also a colt, a foal of an ass. Are you still following? I hope I’ve not lost you.
But St Matthew takes the prophecy literally and so in his account, Jesus instructs His disciples to untie both the ass and the colt and to lead them to Him. Some commentators attempt to explain the reason this way. Christ first rode the ass up and down the hill and then transferred and rode the colt into the city. There is a practical reason for this. The she-ass would be stronger and more able to go up and down the terrain. Next, the colt, being more agile and light, would be able to bring Him into the city easily.
But more interesting is the spiritual sense or patristic allegorical interpretation given to these two animals. The she-ass and her colt signify the two sorts of people of which the world is made up—the Jews, accustomed to the yoke of the Mosaic law, who were represented by the ass; and the Gentiles, living up to this time without the Law of God, and who were denoted by the colt. Even though the ass had been well trained, the Jews had centuries of being familiarised with the Law of Moses, the law remained a burden to them. Likewise, just like a young colt that has not been ridden nor trained, Gentiles did not have the benefit of being trained by the Law. Christ our Lord rode both to signify that both the Jews and the Gentiles were called to be Christophoroi – Christ-bearers. That’s how we get the name of that famous saint, St Christopher.
Far from being absurd, the picture shows two things. First of all, it reveals our Lord’s control over nature and all created beings. A colt, so young that it has never been ridden and is even accompanied by its mother tags obediently along. It is fitting that Jesus, the Second Adam, should display Dr Doolittle powers lost to man after the Fall. Secondly, it emphasises the meekness and humility with which this One comes, exactly as St Paul describes Him in the second reading: “His state was divine, yet Christ Jesus did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself to assume the condition of a slave and became as men are; and being as all men are, he was humbler yet, even to accepting death, death on a cross.” This is no conquering king who has destroyed Israel’s enemies and is riding triumphantly into Jerusalem at the head of an army, but upon a colt hardly able to support His weight. This is the Saviour who has come to die for the sins of the world.
Choosing an ass or its colt as steed may be more than an action which merely displays our Lord’s humility. In ancient times, dignitaries would ride donkeys in civil processions, and horses in military ones. A king arriving on a donkey would indicate that the person was on a peaceful mission, not one bent on military conquest. Whatever one makes of the rabbinic ideas about the Messiah, our Lord’s coming on a donkey shows His true intentions and agenda. He has returned as an undefeated victor without a sword in His hand but with the offer of peace and reconciliation. Even though His life would be met with violence which would end in death, He “made no resistance”, nor did He “turn away,” from the blows of His enemies, as we heard in Isaiah’s prophecy of the Suffering Servant in the first reading.
Lastly, today’s liturgy and the readings also serve as a mirror which shows up our true disposition as we come before the Lord, exposing our weaknesses, our sinfulness and unworthiness to welcome such a King as He. According to Talmudic tradition, if we are worthy, the Messiah will come in the clouds (a reference to Daniel 7:13). But if we are unworthy, he will come riding on a donkey. In other rabbinic conversations, some say the Messiah will come when all Israel repents and proves their worthiness; others, when all Israel observes one Sabbath together. Until that happens, we cannot expect the Messiah. These two comings are related to the two comings of Christ that we always speak about in the season of Advent. The first coming was in humility at the Incarnation. The second coming of Christ would be at the end of this age as He returns in glory, perhaps most popularly represented as coming in the clouds. But despite our unworthiness, our Lord still comes to His people sitting on an ass and a colt, as He retakes His seat of glory - now in apparent humiliation on the throne of the cross but later, He will assume His throne of glory at the right side of the Father in heaven.
At the beginning of Holy Week, an ass and its colt carried a King in procession to retake His throne, but at the end of this week, this King, our Lord and Saviour will carry the instrument of our salvation, the cross, like a beast of burden, so that we may now enter into His kingdom. He rode on a beast of burden because He came to bear our burdens. Our Lord calls us to place our burdens upon Him every single day that we live here in this world. He willingly carries our burdens. He happily carries them, knowing that in our weakness, in Him we are strong.
Fifth Sunday of Lent Year A
Buried dead men and even ruined stones cannot rise again. That’s the firm conviction and belief of the materialist communists, who reject any belief in God and dismiss anything religious and spiritual as pure superstition. In the year 1966, a platoon of Red Guards was ordered to destroy all remnants of the past including Christian cemeteries and tombs on the grounds of the Zhalan Catholic cemetery in Beijing. Most significant was the tomb of the famous Jesuit missionary, known by locals as the erudite Mr Li. He was Father Matteo Ricci SJ, the first Catholic priest permitted entry into the Forbidden City, where he spent the last nine years of his tireless and fruitful life and was honoured by the emperor himself with a tomb fit for a Mandarin.
Other memorials had been reduced to rubble, and the stones given to peasants to build with. The remains of the dead were simply scattered. Priests and nuns were forcefully conscripted for this laborious work of desecration, and they had to destroy the tombs with their own hands. But there was a shrewd lover of history at the Institute which trained communist officials. He didn’t want the relics to be ruined, not because he believed but was motivated by sentimental reasons. He came up with a brilliant proposal which was a subterfuge to save these stones. “Why don’t you just bury the stones,” he suggested, “and then order them not to rise again?”
After some time, when the horrible Cultural Revolution had passed and most people had forgotten the history of those buried stones, it was decided that they dig up these stones with little ceremony and fanfare to avoid unnecessary attention. So they did, and that’s why we still have Ricci’s tomb, dug out of the ground later on when the Communists changed their minds. Despite the order that they should remain buried, the stones of this tomb and that of two other Jesuits did “rise again”.
If dead stones can rise again from the rubble of destruction, so can men too. This is what we witness in today’s gospel. Martha and Mary had sent a message to the Lord by coming immediately to save their brother who was terminally ill. The Grim Reaper would not wait another day, but our Lord did. He waited another two days. In a seemingly nonchalant manner, our Lord declared that this illness is not unto death, but for the glory of God and His Son. Perhaps, these words would have been misunderstood by the sisters that Lazarus would recover from his illness and be saved from the brink of death. Can you imagine their disappointment with the Lord and His prophecy when Lazarus did succumb to his illness and die?
When our Lord finally arrived after deliberately delaying His departure by two days, He found that Lazarus had already been in the tomb for four days. One could argue that if the Lord had departed immediately upon receiving the news, it would have made little difference to the outcome. He would still have come too late. Martha, true to form, ran out to meet Jesus, while Mary, true to form, remained in the house.
Martha declares that if the Lord had been present, her brother would not have died, but that whatever Jesus asks of God, God will give it. The Lord, in response, declares to Martha: “I am the resurrection and the life. If anyone believes in me, even though he dies he will live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (Jn 11:25-26) Here’s Martha’s moment of glory. John’s Gospel does not narrate Peter’s proclamation of faith: Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. Martha now has the honour of echoing Peter’s declaration: “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.”
If Martha displayed such brazen faith in the Lord despite her personal tragedy, Mary’s response seems more human and therefore, would resonate with most of us. She appears to question the Lord for His lateness. If only He had been there, this tragedy could have been evaded: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” It is a human thing to grieve. It is quite natural of us to ask God or rather demand an answer from Him in the face of tragedy. Rather than being annoyed or angry at her seeming lack of faith in comparison to her sister’s, our Lord is moved by her response - her tears of grief and perhaps even anger.
Our Lord knew that in the end, life would reign, joy would outweigh the sorrow, and yet He grieved before performing that great miracle of miracles. He grieved for His beloved friend decaying in the tomb. And He grieved for us, I'd like to think, for all of humanity who must endure great trials, loss, abuse, injustice, as a result of our free will and fallenness - for us who, while on this earth, must fight hard and ceaselessly to believe in what cannot be seen, in a divine compassion we cannot fathom. He is grieving for the destruction that has been wrought by sin, death itself, which is not part of God’s original plan. Save for sin, death has no place in our universe. The wages of sin is death as St Paul points out.
Some people console us by trying to make us accept death as a natural part of human life. Others argue that death is merely a portal to eternity. But our Lord saw death as the enemy. His Father had never intended for us to experience it. In fact, He forbade Adam and Eve only one thing – a fruit that would make them subject to it. Death came into the world through the envy of the devil and the disobedience of man, not through the plan of God. So, in the presence of those wounded by death’s sting, our Lord weeps.
I guess it is always so irresistibly easier to surrender to the power of despair and thus be authors of our own spiritual and psychological death. Despair is the most lethal weapon at the hands of the enemies of Christianity. The Communists who ordered the destruction of the Christian graves and commandeered the religious leaders to undertake this heinous task with their own hands thought that they could bury the faith of the people as they did with the stones from the tombs of their heroes. But just as the stones did not remain buried, the faith of the Catholics continues to endure and indeed have grown despite years of persecution, oppression and governmental control.
When you're exhausted, from day after day battling doubts, struggling against the current, resisting the urge to lie down and allow the fear, resentment, selfishness, hatred to bury you alive, it is good to remember the story of Lazarus and the tomb of Matteo Ricci. The story of Lazarus reinforces our hope – a hope which does not lie in finding an answer to the mystery of our suffering, a hope that is not grounded in a final solution to life’s troubles, but a shining hope in the life of the resurrection – a rebirth – of how even the dead, the seemingly lost can be called forth, they can be liberated from the bindings of sin, desperation and grief, and be finally set free to live not just a dream, but the reality of immortality, never to suffer pain or death again. If the communists could not keep the tomb stones and the faith of the Chinese Catholics buried, if tombs could not keep Lazarus and Jesus dead, we too profess with firm conviction “in the resurrection of the body,” that God will ensure that not only our immortal souls will live on after death, but that even our "mortal body" will “rise again”.
Fourth Sunday of Lent Year A
The popular adage “it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness” may seem to be a cliched expression, a naive suggestion to put on rose-coloured glasses and pretend that all the messiness in this world do not exist. But like all other cliches, there is always a certain modicum of truth in this. All Malaysians should understand this - that we have a cultural tendency to complain and gripe about all and sundry. From politics to economics, from school to work, from food to accommodations, from church to family. Even though there may be a basis in reality to all our grievances, we seem to be blind to anything which is good. And though we may at times admit the good, we choose to minimise its value, “good just isn’t good enough”, and then proceed to exaggerate the negative side of things.
In our lengthy gospel for today, we encounter various characters who have a blinkered vision of life. From our Lord’s disciples who see the blindness of the man born blind as punishment from God, to the neighbours of the man who cannot accept the reality that things have changed for the better, to the Pharisees who only see the healing as a violation of the Sabbath prohibition, to his own parents who are more worried about public opinion than to rejoice that their son’s vision has now been restored. None of them are able to see anything positive about this astounding miracle of our Lord. Only the blind man could have a valid excuse. It is obvious that he couldn’t see because he’s physically blind and yet at the end of the story, he is able to initially recognise Christ as a prophet and then as the mysterious messianic figure of “the Son of Man”. In fact, it is this blind man who makes this profound confession of faith long before Thomas does at the end of the gospel: “Lord, I believe”, and then proceeds to “worship” the Lord.
Perhaps, what is needed is the ability to see as God does. As God had to remind Samuel when he seemed to have overlooked David, the youngest son of Jesse, because he was considered to be the most unlikely candidate due to his youthful age and physical weakness, “God does not see as man sees: man looks at appearances but the Lord looks at the heart.” This statement has less to do with the irrelevance of appearances than it has to do with the reminder that our judgments on any matter should go much deeper than superficial appearances. Samuel saw the runt of the lot, but God saw in David a hero who will slay giants. Samuel saw his physical weakness, God saw his spiritual potential for greatness.
That too is a choice set before us. Just as the way of seeing is a choice we must make, joy too is a conscious, chosen response to God's grace and hope, despite the surrounding, often difficult, circumstances. We can rejoice in the face of our struggle with sins and sufferings because these painful realities are not the final word. We can rejoice because though we were born with original sin, just like the man in the gospel was born blind, there is One who can and has removed the scales from the eyes of all those who believe in Him. We can rejoice though we may be considered weak, others see us as weak, but in Christ we are strong, in Him we can overcome the greatest obstacle before us. We rejoice because we were blinded by sin, but now our Lord has given new sight through faith. So it is not naive to believe in this: “it is better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.” We rejoice because as St Paul reminds us in the second reading, we were once in darkness, but now we are children of the light.
Third Sunday of Lent Year A
As humans, we are naturally wired to blame other people or external circumstances when things don't quite go according to plan. Malaysians are particularly adept at this. In fact, the blame culture can be best summarised by using the mnemonic ABC - that is, A for accusing, B for blaming and C for complaining. But where do they spring from? All three find their genesis in a feeling that we suffer from - a deficit of love. An old priest mentor once told me, “Michael, there are no troublemakers, only people wanting to be loved!” When we do not feel sufficiently loved, affirmed or receive constant approval from others, a gaping hole opens up within us, a hole that sucks in all the light and then regurgitates the darkness by accusing, blaming and complaining about others whom we believe have left us in this state.
Today, the first reading provides us with an example of what happens when our lives are not marked by gratitude, it is immediately replaced with complaining and grumbling. Following their exodus from Egypt, the Israelites frequently grumbled against God and Moses due to lack of water and food, often blaming Moses for bringing them out of Egypt to die. That’s quite rich because they were crying out to God for assistance and liberation while they were languishing in slavery. And now that God had liberated them, they continued to turn their fury and discontent at Moses and indirectly at God. Ultimately, they were questioning God’s Providence and promise that He will lead them safely to the Promised Land.
We read this and are appalled and shocked at their sudden amnesia and lack of gratitude. But how often do we act the same way? As long as things are going well, we are grateful. But the second our situation changes (for the worse), we doubt, we fret, we grow anxious, we complain, we blame God for our predicament and then we accuse Him of not being caring enough for us. Sure, He has helped in the past, we think (if we even remember). But where is He now? “Is the Lord with us, or not?” the Israelites asked, as they quarreled among themselves.
Should we have any doubt that God loves us, St Paul reassures us of God’s undying love for us even though we had not merited it: “what proves that God loves us is that Christ died for us while we were still sinners.” So, in truth, we do not really suffer from a deficit of love. We cannot complain that no one loves us. Even if the whole world turns their back on us, which is a little over dramatic if I must say, God has never abandoned us. There is no doubt – God loves us and He has proven that love by sending us His Son who died on the cross for us!
Yes, deep down inside of us is this yearning to be loved, understood and accepted by someone. We try our best to please the people around us in order to gain their love and acceptance. We try to fill that emptiness that constantly gnaws at our soul. Over the years we will come to realise that no amount of possessions, friends or power will be able to satisfy this thirst and hunger of ours. There is only one thing that can satisfy that thirst – it is God’s love. In the timeless words of St Augustine, “Thou hast made us for thyself, and our heart is restless until it finds its rest in thee.” Therefore this thirst, this yearning, this desire, this longing is not a mere human reality. It is put there by God as a reminder of His desire to share His own life with us and to symbolise the Christian’s longing to be with God forever.
If in the Old Testament God showed His care for His people by giving them water in the arid desert, our Lord in today’s Gospel promises a far greater source of water – living water that surges up from the depths of our being, water that can be accessed without the use of a bucket, i.e. human ingenuity and machination.
The story tells of two thirsty persons who meet at a well. Jesus, sweaty, weary, thirsty, comes to the well with a parched throat. The Samaritan woman, on the other hand, came to the well with a parched soul. Unlike the woman, Jesus has no bucket and the well is deep. The reason for this was not just an oversight on His part, a passing traveller. The reason for this was that He had not come to quench His thirst, but hers. He is the fountain of living water that has come to quench the thirst of the world; our thirst for God. The Samaritan woman’s thirst for love and for salvation was more profound than His physical thirst for water. That is why she had been married five times and now lives with someone who is not her husband. She sought fulfillment and meaning in the arms of a mate. She drank from the well of relationships – a well that continued to run dry because void of Christ and self-worth, these relationships could not meet her inner longing. She came at noon to draw water because she would have wanted to avoid the gossip of the other women in town. She was both the subject and object of accusations, blame and complaints.
Christ offered her the living water of the Holy Spirit—the only thing that would quench her spiritual and emotional thirst. Only God can satisfy our every hunger and thirst. Only God’s love can reassure us that we are precious and worthy of love. In the eyes of her fellow townspeople, she was a sinner beyond redemption. But not so in God’s eyes. Our Lord promises her, a sinner and an outcast, the water of life – God’s love and forgiveness.
Many of us continue to live like the Samaritan woman, gazing into the dark depths of the well of our hearts, wondering if we could find happiness therein or just emptiness. Many believe that it is just a dry well which serves only as an echo chamber of our ABCs, our accusations, our blames and our complaints - it’s always someone else’s fault, there is always someone else to be blamed, there is always something unsatisfactory which justifies our complaint. Or we could look up from our navel for once and look at the One who looks back at us with love and compassion. If we can recognise His love for us, then our accusations would be transformed into praise, our blaming would be turned into repentance and our complaints would be replaced with gratitude.
Just like the Elect who are gathered here today, you have been thirsting for the life giving water that can blunt the blade of every accusation, deflect the blows of every blame hurled at you and satisfy every complaint that you may ever had in your life. Jesus promises each and every one of you the water of life. If you drink of this water, you will never be thirsty again. If you have experienced the unconditional love of God, you will no longer crave for other lesser substitutes. Cease your search for other wells; they will all run dry. You have found the source of Living Water, where you will thirst no more.
Second Sunday of Lent Year A
My good friend and I often used to take digs at each other, especially when our eccentric idiosyncrasies start showing up in public. In jest, we express great concern for each other and take turns asking, “Have you taken your pills today?” The imaginary pink pills are the uppers and the blue ones are the downers. It seems logical to take a pink one or perhaps a bottle for it, when you’re racing downhill into the dumps.
This must be the experience of the three disciples, Peter, James and John. Above all the foreshadowing of dark things predicted by the Lord Himself, above all the dark things that will soon follow, today’s mountain story rises above a brooding plain. It was a ‘pink pill’ experience. The Lord takes Peter, John and James up to a mountain and there, His glory shines through in some inscrutable way. The Greek word that describes this mystery is “metemorphothe”- the verb form of “metamorphosis,” the scientific word which describes the wondrous unfolding of a butterfly as she spreads her glorious wings upon emerging from the dark and colourless cocoon. And, as an icing on this picture-perfect moment, two Old Testament luminaries photobomb the scene and delightfully adds flavour to it.
For Peter, this experience, however you imagine it, is a wonderful “upper” coming just after the “downers” of the last day where the Lord had reiterated His prediction concerning His own passion and just before the abysmal pit of sorrow that awaits during Holy Week. It’s a glory moment and Peter, caught up in a spiritual high, says in effect, “Let’s just stay up on this nice mountain. Let us hold onto this wonderful postcard perfect moment.” Peter wanted to make the memory last. He wants to hang on to the moment by building a physical Monument or Museum, so that they can all stay up on the mountain and be happy forever after. Perhaps, by staying secure up on the mountain, Peter could prevent the Lord from carrying out His threat to be killed. Peter had failed once to convince the Lord to abandon His course of action. Now, a wiser Peter has learnt the art of subtlety. No point arguing. Just distract.
It’s hardly fair to make Peter a foil. His reaction is so natural. There are at least two things that you and I are wont to do with fond memories. One choice is Peter’s first reaction. Let’s just retreat into a memory. Let’s live there. It really is alluring to hunker down with the sweet memory and just settle in it. When the future veritably swarms with uncertainty, how wonderfully secure it is just to hide away in the past. The other choice is to take those fond memories, those glory moments, and find in them nourishment for an even more glorious future. Memory can be an escape, or memory can light the way when the present is unclear and the future is dark.
The Lord, therefore, challenges Peter and all of us to take the second option. This is the reason why He refuses Peter’s request to stay on the mountain. A sentence later, they are on the path back down into the real world. Just when Peter suggests that they pitch a tent and stay there forever, our Lord bursts his bubble and leads him back down the mountain. He invites them—and us—to journey with Him back into life’s valleys. But Peter's memory of that mountaintop was something he would carry with him throughout the week of confusion in Jerusalem. And I would guess that it gave him hope in that valley of the shadows. After the life-changing experience of beholding Christ's divinity, the apostles must come down from the mountain and return to their daily lives. They are surely changed, yet they must continue their “ordinary” work of following the Lord and spreading His Good News in the midst of setbacks, failures and confusion.
Placed here at the beginning of the season of Lent with a few good weeks to go, I guess the story of the Transfiguration is a good reminder to all of us that though the Lord can bring us up to the mountaintop to have a glimpse of God’s glory and a taste of heaven, and to experience His love so tangibly, we can’t stay up there. Life is lived in the low places, in the valleys, and sometimes what feels like bottomless pits. God has work for us to do. We should not forget about the mission of the cross that we are to pick up as servants of Christ. To gain our life we must lose it, to follow Christ is to take upon us the cross. To answer His call, to go and make disciples of all nations.
Yes, the gospel does not end with the Transfiguration. The ordinary continues, the habitual and the routine continues. Sometimes, life can feel like a chore. But do remember, when your life passes through some pain or loss, remember your Transfiguration moment. After having encountered God, just like the three disciples, our lives are never the same again. The revelation of God’s glory has forever widened the horizons of our lives and that is both wonderful and terrifying. Terrifying because it sometimes feels safer to go through life blinkered, as it gives you an excuse for not doing anything. Something is at risk; we risk facing possible hostility, ridicule, shame and uncomfortableness, but these are all part of the call.
And this is the mysterious nature of our faith. Faith is always drawing us onwards, drawing us further, and drawing us upwards. Just when we thought we knew the answers, we have to set those answers down and move on empty-handed. Just when the disciples thought they had reached the mountain of glory, they had to go down and start all over again - they did not ever grasp that they would have to lose all, to gain all. This is the God who calls us to let go again-and-again as we move forward in trust. Our faith, our experiences of God must be lived out, not only on the tops of mountains, but in the cold reality of the valley among people who are sceptics, people who are hostile and the spiritually ‘unwashed’.
Ultimately, the transfiguration is not just about reaching the tops of mountains. You see, it’s about the transfiguration of all of our lives and that includes the concealed rubbish too. This is not just a project for Lent but for the rest of our lives. Not only will Christ be revealed in glory on the mountain but He will also be revealed in glory in the loneliness, forsakenness and agony on a cross. And He will transfigure that cross too - from a sign of death into a sign of life and hope. Yes, He will be present at the top of mountains and also in the darkest valleys. And, wherever we are, we must “listen to Him”. For an encounter with the living Christ is no less profound as we go down the mountain and go about our day-to-day work.
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.
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!
