The Paradox of Happiness

Solemnity of All Saints 2020

When her name first emerged over the internet, everyone thought it was a sick joke, a satire meant to poke fun at Catholic sensibilities. This already obscure saint had almost entirely been forgotten only to have her fame restored during a time when the world had to contend with a virus that shared the same name – St Corona. That’s irony for you.

Today’s feast is all-embracing and all-encompassing. It’s a feast that celebrates the memory of great saints like Augustine, Francis and Teresa, and also the obscure and forgotten saints like Corona. It is hardly ironic but certainly logical to think that the saints are often remembered and invoked during times of crises, especially now.

The gospel which is read every year on the occasion of this feast seeks to underline the paradox of being a saint. One could paraphrase the Beatitudes in this way, “Blessed or Happy are those who are unfortunate.” One who mourns, for example, would never imagine himself as being happy. But our Lord declares this to him, “Happy are those who are not happy.”

But what strange kind of good fortune is it that is suggested by the words “blessed” or “happy”? The word has two temporal dimensions: it embraces both the present and the future, and each in a different way. The present aspect consists of the fact that those who seem to be in an unfortunate situation are told that they enjoy a special closeness to God and His Kingdom. God has favourites. He favours those mentioned in the Beatitudes. It is precisely in the sphere of suffering that God with His Kingdom is particularly present to them. When someone suffers and complains, God’s heart is moved to act and draw near to the person to offer deliverance.

But the present dimension of each of the Beatitudes also includes a future: God’s ultimate victory that is still hidden will one day manifest. Hence what each beatitude is saying is this: “Do not be afraid in your distress; God is close to you here and now, and He will be your great comfort and consolation in the time to come.” Because of this future dimension, the beatitudes provide us with the core of Christian hope. The paradox of the beatitudes are captured so beautifully and succinctly in the words of St Paul, “We are treated as impostors and yet are true; as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold we live; as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing everything” (2 Cor 6:8-10). This paradox has now become the model of Christian life and existence, the roadmap to sainthood.

Pope Francis reminds us, “The Beatitudes are like a Christian’s identity card. So, if anyone asks: “What must one do to be a good Christian?”, the answer is clear. We have to do, each in our own way, what Jesus told us in the Sermon on the Mount. In the Beatitudes, we find a portrait of the Master, which we are called to reflect in our daily lives”

In order to grasp the true profundity of the Beatitudes, and thereby the core of Christian hope, it is important to remember that they are essentially Christological. The real subject, of the beatitudes and in fact the entire Sermon on the Mount, is Jesus. It is only on this basis that we can discover the entire meaning of Christian faith life. Pope Benedict puts it this way, “The Beatitudes are the transposition of the Cross and Resurrection into discipleship. But they apply to the disciple because they were first paradigmatically lived by Christ himself … (they) present a “sort of veiled interior biography of Jesus.”

One needs to remember that in order to study the Beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount, it is not enough that we study the text of the gospel. The Sermon on the Mount is not meant to be some exaggerated, abstract and unreal moral lecture that has no correlation to daily life. The best commentary of the sermon and the beatitudes is the life of Christ and by extension the lives of the Saints. Christ stands in the middle of the text and unites it with the lives of the saints who sought to imitate Him, in life and in death. The saints saw themselves in the text of the Beatitudes because they saw Christ in the middle of it. Christ is the one who is poor in spirit. He is the one who mourns, who is meek, who hungers and thirsts for righteousness, who is merciful, who is pure in heart, who is a peacemaker and who is persecuted for righteousness’ sake. Each of the Beatitudes is flesh and blood in Him. Can there ever be a better example?

For us too, the Beatitudes are a summon to follow Jesus Christ in discipleship. He alone is “perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect.” On our own, we can never hope to be “perfect, as our heavenly Father is perfect.” The saints understood this truth. They recognised the path to sainthood is simply this – to die to oneself so that more of Christ would come alive in them. The saints provide us with a kaleidoscope to view Christ. That is why when the saints are honoured, it is Christ who is honoured above all. In loving the saints, Christ is not loved any less. On the contrary, Christ is rightly loved and glorified and His commandments are observed in the veneration of the saints.

The journey from this life to the next can be long, with many twists and turns, ups and downs, and it is imperative to stay on the right road.  How can we be certain that we will not get lost? Our Lord provides us with the Beatitudes as a roadmap and the Church provides us with the saints as guides. What more can we ask for?

Back to our little forgotten saint. Over the centuries, St. Corona was often prayed to by people seeking her help in times of trouble, be it heavy storms or livestock diseases. In these difficult times, may St Corona and all the saints of heaven, continue to give us courage and hope as we seek their intercession, that though we may still suffer poverty, experience grieving, hardship, suffering, illness and persecution in this life, Christ continues to assure those who are faithful to Him: “yours is the kingdom of heaven.”

It would not be Love without the other

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The answer which our Lord gives the Pharisees seems to be a super offer or bonus - two for the price of one. They had asked Him to identify the greatest commandment from a list of 613 commandments but our Lord points to two - love of God and love of neighbour. So, which is it? Which is the greatest commandment - to love God or neighbour?

Well, our Lord had given the correct answer. The two parts of His answer are inseparable. One cannot love God without loving one’s neighbour and one cannot claim to love one’s neighbour if he fails to love God. These two parts are so intimately and intricately intertwined that the whole formula would fall apart if one part were removed from the equation. So, it is not wrong for us to call it the Great Commandment of Love - One commandment with Two parts.

Our Lord’s interrogators were certainly familiar with the first part of the commandment. It is an essential part of the morning and evening prayer which every pious Jew would pray daily and commit to memory - the Shema. It is a reminder to every Jew that the proper response to God’s grace and mercy is love, faithfulness, and obedience. Although Christians are not obliged to pray the Shema, its content should shape our priorities. Today, modern man seems to be beset by a fundamental absence of God in his life. What is being offered by modern society is a godless morality and a set of ethics, free of any religious anchoring. But without God, this man-made morality remains rudderless and without foundation. Having no direction or standard to fall back on, it ends up caving in to every popular pressure or the latest lifestyle fad.

The commandment to love must first recognise that human life will not work out if God is left out: its aspirations are nothing but contradiction. Nothing can be considered good if there is no ultimate basis for all good. Nothing can be considered true if there is no Absolute Truth which is ageless and always true, and not just true for a certain time and for a certain people. How could we possibly grow in love if there is no ultimate benchmark for love?

So, we shouldn’t just believe in some theoretical way that God exists. We cannot just relate with God at an intellectual level, though knowledge of Him is a prerequisite for our love for Him. Rather, if our relationship with God is defined by love, we must consider Him to be the most important and real thing in our life. He must penetrate every layer of our life and fill it completely: our heart must know about Him and let itself be moved by Him; our soul; the power of our will and decision; our intelligence, must be shaped by Him. He must be everywhere. And our fundamental attitude and relationship towards Him must be love.

If we lose sight of God, then all that remains as a guiding thread is nothing but our ego. We will try to grab as much as possible out of this life for ourselves. We will say that we are motivated by altruistic values or even love, but the truth is that we are in it for ourselves. We will see all the others as enemies of our happiness who threaten to take something away from us. Envy and greed will take over our lives and poison our world.

For this reason, it is critically important to remember that only if this fundamental relationship with God is right, then can all other relationships be right. Our whole lives should be driven by this motivation to practice thinking with God, feeling with God, willing with God, so that love may grow and become the keynote of our life. Only then can love of neighbour be self-evident.

Note that the second part of the great commandment is phrased in this way, “You must love your neighbour as yourself.” It does not demand any fantastic or unreal heroism. It does not say “you must deny yourself and exist only for the other; you must make less of yourself and more of the other.” These things are part of Christ’s call to His disciples to grow in holiness. But in this commandment of love, our Lord only asks us to love our neighbour as we love ourselves, no more no less. People who do not love themselves will not be really able to love others. Those who do not accept themselves take exception to others. True love is fair. We can’t give what we don’t have.

Loving God is the foundation of the very possibility of loving anyone else for the simple reason that, only in the relationship with God can we feel fundamentally loved. Only in the relationship with God can we feel truly forgiven despite our fragility, and offer forgiveness to others. We can only generate love if we feel truly acknowledged in this relationship that is rooted in the deepest depths of our hearts. Many people are unable to love because they are not willing to undergo the deep experience of recognising that they are sinners and yet loved undeservedly. If someone feels unloved because he feels that he is undeserving of love, he will likewise be unable to love others whom he thinks is undeserving of his love.

Loving our neighbour, especially the poor, the weak, and the marginalised can never just be a dictate of justice. Loving others without rooting it in the love of God eventually ends in a pale surrogate of love, a distortion of true love. This is why the love that our Lord speaks of is not a mere human love. It is not philanthropy; it is not a love that can be lived through a generic commitment to social justice. This love that our Lord is talking about is a foundational love: a love that finds its source in a relationship deeper and more original to which every man and woman is called – the relationship between the creature and his maker, the relationship between a child and God his father. Only if we are anchored in this primary relationship with God can we begin to love others in a wholesome way. Without such connexion, our weak attempts at loving end up following the idols of egoism, of power, of dominion, polluting our relations with others, and following paths not of life but of death.

For God or Caesar?

Twenty-Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Just as our Lord was subjected to numerous interrogations by His detractors, many of us had witnessed a similar interrogation of Amy Coney Barret, the newest candidate for the position of Justice on the Supreme Court of the United States. She was primarily drilled on the role and influence of her Catholic faith in her jurisprudence. One of her interrogators had earlier made this assertion, “the dogma lives loudly within you, and that’s of concern.” What was being called into question was her ultimate allegiance – would she choose God over Caesar? Would her allegiance to the state be compromised by her faith in God?

Let’s look at our Lord’s answer in today’s gospel. The enemies of our Lord, before asking Him His opinion, begin their questioning with a piece of false flattery, “Master, we know that you are an honest man and teach the way of God in an honest way, and that you are not afraid of anyone, because a man’s rank means nothing to you.” Instead of acknowledging His moral and doctrinal authority, the Pharisees were actually challenging it. The Pharisees believed that they, alone, were the authoritative interpreters of Jewish law. By appealing to Jesus' authority to interpret God's law, the questioners hoped to force Jesus into a corner by answering the question. If He taught that it was not lawful under Jewish Law to pay taxes to Caesar, He would be committing treason. If He agreed that it was lawful to pay such taxes, He would lose credibility with the Jewish people who hated the Romans and their taxes, a humiliating sign of their subjugation. It was a Catch 22 meant to trap our Lord: either answer would have condemned Him.

Our Lord immediately recognises the trap. Instead of jumping into the political discussion, our Lord raises it to a theological one. He curiously requests to see the coin. We need to remember that it is not necessary for our Lord to possess the coin to answer their question. He could certainly respond without seeing the coin. The denarius, minted with the image of the emperor, was truly the emperor’s currency and property. It was also a major instrument of imperial propaganda. The inscription proclaimed that the emperor is the “Worshipful Son of the God, Augustus”. It imposes the cult of emperor worship and his sovereignty upon all who transact with it. Either consciously or inadvertently, they were acknowledging that he is the son of God.

The questioners' quickness to produce the coin at our Lord’s request exposes their hypocrisy. The coin being in their possession implies that they routinely used it, whereas Jesus did not. Moreover, this episode takes place in the Temple, and by producing the coin, the questioners reveal their religious hypocrisy – they bring a profane and idolatrous item, a pagan currency, with a graven image, into the sacred precinct of the Temple.

After seeing the coin, Jesus then poses a two-part counter-question, “Whose head is this? Whose name?" This harkens to two central provisions in the Torah. The first commandment (or the second) prohibits worship of anyone or anything but God, and it also forbids crafting any image of a false god for adoration, God demands the exclusive allegiance of His people. Second, our Lord is alluding to the Shema. The Shema is the most important prayer a pious Jew can say. It commences with the words, “Hear (Shema), O Israel, the Lord is our God — the Lord alone.” This opening line stresses Israel's worship of God to the exclusion of all other gods. The Prophet Isaiah in the first reading reiterates this declaration of faith, “I am the Lord, unrivalled; there is no other God besides me.” The head or image of Caesar on the coin clearly violated all these provisions.

Having understood the scriptural background of this passage, we can see how this is a most richly ironic passage. In this deeply ironic scene, we have the Son of God and the High Priest of Peace, newly-proclaimed by His people to be a King, holding the tiny silver coin of a king who claims to be the son of a god and the high priest of Roman peace. The whole question raised by the Pharisees of whether one should pay taxes to the state dissolves into triviality in the face of the One who stands before them. Caesar, the pretender king and son of God, can never hope to hold up a torch to the true King and Only Begotten Son of God, Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour.

Finally, our Lord tells His interrogators, “Give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God.” This cryptic response begs the question: What belongs to God and what belongs to Caesar? In the Hebrew tradition, everything rightfully belonged to God, even mankind, since we were made in the image and likeness of God. Our Lord is reminding His interrogators that we owe God exclusive allegiance and total love and worship. The problem is that the emperor also made similar claims, as does the modern state. But Caesar is not God. It is true that we owe civil authority our respect and obedience but that obedience is limited by what belongs to God. It must never be forgotten that all things belong to God, even Caesar’s.

Several principles can be drawn from this last axiom of our Lord:

First, all political leaders draw their authority from God.  We owe no leader any submission or cooperation in the pursuit of grave evil.  In fact, we have the duty to change bad laws and resist grave evil in our public life, through non-violent actions, such as exercising our right to vote.

Second, in democracies, we elect public servants, not messiahs. We have been having a slew of poor to horrendously corrupt leaders. If the current claims of a certain politician are true, we may be witnessing another historic moment in an already politically historic year – three Prime Ministers in the course of a single year. Although we must demand the highest standards from our elected (and sometimes unelected) leaders, let’s stop treating our politicians as messiahs.

Thirdly, as words and platitudes are useless if not translated into action, it doesn’t matter what we claim to believe in, if we’re unwilling to act on our beliefs. Our faith is not just one confined to the temple as if God is just confined to the Temple. Our faith permeates every aspect of our lives because all things belong to God and we should give back to God what belongs to Him.

As Archbishop Chaput taught, “We serve Caesar best by serving God first. We honour our nation best by living our Catholic faith honestly and vigorously, and bringing it without apology into the public square.  We’re citizens of heaven first.  But just as God so loved the world that he sent his only Son, so the glory and irony of the Christian life is this:  The more faithfully we love God, the more truly we serve the world.” To the question, “Will our faith in God compromise our duties to the state?”, our answer is an unequivocal “No!” By being better citizens of the Kingdom of God, Christians do not become poorer but better citizens of the kingdoms of this world.

Come to the Wedding

Twenty-Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Deprive a camel of water for a week, and you would see the poor thirsty creature race to the nearest drinking hole to get its first sip of water. One would imagine that after three months of lockdown and being deprived of the Eucharist for the longest time imaginable, many Catholics would be rushing back for Mass and clamour to get a taste of the Eucharist. But this was not so. It began with a slow trickle and then the numbers plateaued. Ironically, those who really wanted to return were told to wait - the high-risk members of our community, the elderly. Many were willing to risk infection and even death in order to get a taste of the Eucharist but were told to be patient and to wait until it was safer to return. And here’s the other irony. Just as we have gradually made allowance for the elderly to return with extra precautions, we are seeing a second surge which has resulted in another suspension of Masses in the Klang Valley. Back to watching live-streamed Masses and spiritual communion. That is Murphy’s Law for you.

My fear is that with this second shut down of churches and suspension of public Masses, this may be the final nail hammered into the coffin of many Catholics who no longer feel any urge or see any need to return for Mass. There is a likelihood that when we finally decide to reopen, few would heed the call to return for Mass. Sounds very much like today’s parable.

The Lord compares the kingdom of Heaven to a king who gave a wedding banquet in honour of his son. Those who were invited refused the invitation. He sent out other servants a second time with special instructions to say: "I have my banquet all prepared, my oxen and fattened cattle have been slaughtered, everything is ready. Come to the wedding.” But they took the invitation lightly. Many just gave light reasons to excuse themselves from the banquet.

It is easy to make a connexion between the wedding feast and the Eucharist, given the similar scenario we are facing - many have been invited but few have heeded the call. But the parable points to something bigger - the Heavenly Banquet. Heaven is, of course, the ultimate prize. Yes, it is a great opportunity to get back to attend Mass but our ultimate hope is directed to our perfect, eternal fulfillment — to heaven, that is. And in a way, there is a connexion to the Eucharist because the Eucharist is a foretaste of the heavenly banquet, or as St John Chrysostom beautifully puts it, “heaven on earth.” So how we respond to this earthly invitation to participate in Mass, is ultimately connected to our response to God’s invitation to participate in His heavenly banquet. If you want to get to heaven, start by coming for Mass.

Many who have chosen to stay away have done so for valid reasons. After making a risk assessment as it should be, they have decided to avoid the crowds, at least for now. But others I guess have few, if no good reasons at all to stay away. We are reminded of the guests in today’s parable. They took the invitation lightly. Now, it's not that they had some other pressing matter. No, they simply had their priorities wrong. They gave little value to the king’s invitation. Other matters, even the most trivial, seem more important. Their sin was their indifference to God's call to live for Him, to make Him their chief end in life, not themselves.

I believe that one of the major reasons why people take lightly the invitation of the Lord is because they have little appreciation of the value of heaven and little understanding of the horrors of hell. When you lack appreciation or understanding of an object, it holds little appeal for you. That is why it is important to remember that today’s parable is a parable of judgment, a parable which addresses the importance of decisions, decisions with eternal consequences.  A decision whether to attend Mass or not, is not just a trivial matter which has little consequences. On the contrary, our decision has dire consequences – it points to our ultimate destiny and end. We are either setting out a path for heaven or for hell.  Hell is an eternal state of alienation from the vision of God and Heaven is an eternal banquet given in honour of Christ.

Our eternal salvation is not about being a nice guy. If being a nice guy was sufficient to get to heaven, we would be making a mockery of the lives and deaths of the great martyrs of the Church throughout the centuries who suffered much and sacrificed their lives for the sake of the salvation of souls of future generations. The standard by which all of us will be judged will be the love that appears to us from the cross. Heeding our Lord’s invitation means following Him on the path to the cross. Our Lord reminds us that the gate is wide and the road broad that leads to perdition and those who enter through it are many, but how narrow the gate and constricted the road that leads to eternal life, and those who find it are few (Mt 7, 13-14).

But it is not only a lack of appreciation for heaven and hell which may lead to our ruin. What condemns us is our utter ignorance of the true value of the Eucharist. The food that will be served at the wedding banquet, the fattened calf that was sacrificed, is none other than the Bread of Life, Christ Himself, which is the food that is given at every Mass. And that is why it is so important to spend the rest of our lives disposing ourselves towards the Bread of Life and to hunger for it continually. We cannot live without the Eucharist.

It is understandable that many have decided to stay away because the obligation to attend Mass on Sundays and holy days of obligation have been temporarily suspended during this time of pandemic. As Catholics, we all know that attendance at Mass every Sunday and on holy days of obligation is an obligation rooted in God’s commandments and Church law, but we have to get to the point where it is no longer an obligation. Please don’t misunderstand what I am trying to say here. I am not suggesting that this rule should be reformed. Rather, I am saying that we have to get to the point where we simply cannot miss Mass because our hunger for it is so great, it's no longer an external law outside of us, but has become an interior law, compelling us from within, just as hunger propels us to eat in order to live.

It is true that none of you are momentarily able to attend Mass until the risk of transmission is brought under control. But when public Masses resume, many of you may not be able to return right away. You might need to exercise caution for yourself or those you love. You might need to keep watching from a distance for a while. But when the time is right, it is my prayer that you can and must, gather again with the people of God. After all, every Mass is ultimately a taste of heaven. Scripture’s vision of heaven doesn’t look like a quarantine, a livestream, or a Zoom call. It’s a “face to face” encounter with the Risen Christ and a reunion with the saints and the angels. In the life to come, we won’t be socially distanced and segregated in mansions of glory, but living and working and loving and serving together in a new world where righteousness dwells. So, once we know it’s safe, wise, and no disservice to our communities, let’s gather together again in person and continue to do so until the Lord gathers us again on His mountain, where He will prepare for us a banquet of rich food and fine wines, where He will remove the mourning veil and destroy Death forever, where He will wipe away the tears from every cheek and take away our shame. Indeed, we will acknowledge Him as “our God, in whom we hoped for salvation; the Lord is the one whom we hoped.”

Breaking and Building

Twenty-Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 

It’s quite tiring when you have to deal with incessant critics. There are loads of people who make it their life’s mission to criticise and find fault with others, few actually offer any solutions and even fewer would volunteer to make things better. Just like a house of cards, it is far easier to tear people down than it is to build them up. 

 

Today’s readings remind us that our duty is neither to maintain, defend and validate sick and evil behaviour and systems; nor should we be constantly tearing people and structures down just because they are not perfect. Yes, some things require dismantling. But there is also a corresponding obligation to build up and make things better. So, Christian growth requires a simple two-step approach - break and then build. 

Before we can “build back better”, it is necessary for us to break and tear down. It is quite alarming to think that it would be necessary to dismantle and destroy things before you can make a change. Sounds destructive, a favourite pastime for anarchists but not for ordinary folks. It would be destructive if we intend to destroy that which is good. But what is being destroyed here is actually vice - the ugly, sinful, unhealthy, destructive, and self-destructive behaviour that has warped our character. So, when you destroy what is destructive, you are actually being constructive. This is good: you’re negating the negative, destroying the destructive. 

This is what the prophet Isaiah is envisaging in the first reading. Using the metaphor of a vineyard that produces sour grapes, to represent Israel, the prophet speaks of the Lord having to make a radical transformative decision to tear down and undo everything, so that He can make a fresh start. The destruction is not punitive. The destruction is not final. It is therapeutic. It is meant to remedy the sickness that has taken hold of the moral root of the nation. 

We see a similar theme in the gospel. While clearly standing in line with Isaiah, our Lord offers a new and surprising twist to the story. He introduces a new set of characters – the tenants. Once again, it is the fate of the vineyard of Israel that is in question. However, here it is not the vineyard itself or the vine of Israel that is judged, but the wicked tenant farmers to whom the vineyard had been entrusted. The effect of Jesus’s reframing of the story is to shift the emphasis: it is not that the vineyard is failing to produce grapes, but it is the tenants who deny the vineyard’s owner his due and treat his emissaries (and son) violently. If the vineyard is a symbol of Israel, the tenants represent the religious leadership. 

The parable highlights one of the most common sins committed by leaders: the refusal of leadership to assume responsibility when things go wrong, to excuse themselves from all guilt by pushing the blame on the system. We often hear that a problem is systemic, which means that the problem is with the system and not with the persons in charge. Of course, no system is perfect but systems, we must remember, are amoral. It is the people who are involved in making decisions and acting upon these decisions who should be taking responsibility. If no individual wants to assume responsibility, can any system be reformed? 

But note that the parable also shows us that before radical steps are taken to tear down systems and structures, which includes removing individuals from offices of power and influence, there must be efforts at fraternal correction done with both patience and charity. The landowner sends his servants and then his son to reason with the wicked tenants, hoping to change their minds. The tenants are only removed after all reasonable efforts at reconciliation have been exhausted. 

But “breaking” is only the first step. If we merely stop here without any concrete plan to build back better, then our actions would truly be destructive. Constructive criticism is good. It is even necessary if we wish to make progress in spiritual life. But when criticism stops at highlighting the faults of others without providing a path of redemption and rehabilitation, then such criticism remains destructive and obstructive to growth. 

After tearing down the web of sin, we must be ready to build back, and we do so by building and cultivating virtue – the habit of good. You begin replacing the rotten stuff with good stuff. Each and every day, you come out of yourself to do a few little acts of kindness, of generosity; you give a bit of yourself to make someone else happy. St Paul provides us with an excellent blueprint in the second reading, “if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving and that peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.” Notice that the wicked tenants in the parable were motivated by envy which eventually leads to their destruction. The remedy for envy is gratitude. Every day, our lives must be filled with prayers of thanksgiving, a reminder that all is grace. There should be no room for envy and resentment, but only gratitude and appreciation for everything that we have received from God. 

St Paul, adds this final advice to us, “fill your minds with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise.” How often should we do this? St Paul tells us, “keep doing all the things that you have learnt from me and have been taught by me or have heard or seen that I do.” In other words, doing good must be a life-long commitment – no time for slacking off – we must keep on doing good, we must keep on loving and showing honour, we must keep on doing everything virtuous and worthy of praise. The moment we cease building back, we may end up tearing down the good that has been done. 

Ultimately, all our efforts in breaking with sin and building back with virtue would be in vain, if Christ is not made the foundation of our lives. For He is “the stone rejected by the builders that became the keystone.” Remember, “unless the Lord builds the house, its labourers labour in vain.” (Psalm 127:1) No amount of good deeds, good thoughts, or good words on our part would be able to remedy the destruction wrought by sin unless we allow the Lord to use us “like living stones, being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood, offering spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God through Jesus Christ.” (1 Peter 2:5)