The Logic of the Cross

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Just in case your ego is getting a little too inflated and you are seriously tempted to congratulate yourself over your astuteness, then meditating over the string of rhetorical questions posed by the author of the Book of Wisdom in the first reading would be an excellent reality check that brings you back down to planet Earth. The gist of the point being pushed by these questions is simply this: If we cannot even penetrate to an understanding of the visible world around us, how can we hope to reach an understanding of the reasoning and mind of God which is beyond the grasp of all our senses? Or as one priest friend of mine is fond of saying: it’s like a chicken imagining himself to be a phoenix! True wisdom is arrived at, when we come to humbly acknowledge that the mysteries of God and His will for us lie well beyond the reach of all human faculties.

This is how we should approach the teachings of our Lord in the gospel on discipleship. Though our limited human reasoning is capable of seeing the value of weighing the costs that we must be willing to pay before we embark on any new enterprise (as illustrated by the two parables), sacrificing everything and the readiness to bear the cross lie beyond our human comprehension. How do we understand these demands: “Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” “None of you can be my disciple unless he gives up all his possessions.” Both statements defy the common logic of the world. But to understand the cost of discipleship, one must first understand the logic of the cross.

The cross in Greek is ho stauros, a curse word that was never uttered in polite, respectable company. The cross! A scandal to say it, but an even bigger scandal to see the world through it. The logic of the cross is that greatness is achieved not through self-aggrandisement nor through pursuing ambitions of grandeur but by submitting humbly to the path of becoming little in the eyes of the world: life is attained through death; riches are gained through self-renunciation; glory is achieved through the humiliating path of the cross.

The logic of the cross is foolishness to those who are coming out sideways with their piles of degrees and string of titles. But for those of us who believe, the cross is salvation because it is a paradigm shift for how we see and understand God, whose will and power are never found in the materially rich, the powerful, the strong, the influential but in weakness, wonder, reverence and mystery. In fact, the logic of the cross inverts how we imagine power. It flips the hierarchy of value upside down by viewing the world through the lens of the crucified at the very bottom. That was how St Paul tried to convince Philemon to receive his slave, Onesimus, not as an inferior being but as an equal, a brother in Christ.

It is through the logic of the cross, that we should weigh the cost of discipleship. How much does it cost to follow the Lord? Among the hardest sayings in the gospels, today’s passage must certainly count as one of the hardest. But our Lord is laying out all the cards on the table. There is no hidden cost and small print at the bottom of this deal. If you want to follow Him, these are the things every disciple must be prepared to do.

The first statement seems to be the most shocking. Our Lord is unequivocally stating that unless we “hate” those we consider closest to us, we are unworthy of being His disciple. Of course, we can understand that He’s using a hyperbole to capture our attention. What our Lord is saying is that we must be willing to put Him first, ahead of all other human relationships, yes, including family members. Our Lord is certainly not promoting hostility nor is He discouraging filial piety. Rather, He is reminding us of our priorities. He comes first, others second and ourselves, last of all.

Christ is the centre of a truly Christian life. And so, our devotion to Him must supersede our bonds with family, friends, and possessions. We can’t give our hearts entirely to Christ if we’re weighed down too much with earthly cares.

By using two examples or parables, our Lord is saying: think long and hard about Christian discipleship before making a decision. These parables show that Christian discipleship isn’t easy; the commitment must be an ongoing decision to persevere in the faith. When we initially decide to follow Christ, we understand that there will be a price to pay. Only as life unfolds, do we learn the full cost. But our Lord warns us to expect having to pay a significant price, because the cost for Him was the cross at Calvary. Therefore, His followers too must be ready to carry the cross and follow after Him. We have to be willing to risk everything to be His disciple. Cheap, easy and undemanding discipleship is always a counterfeit.

Our Lord doesn’t want a large number of disciples who are only half-way committed to Him. He’s looking for followers who are “all-in,” dedicated to Him through prayer and discipleship. Quality matters more than quantity. Such is the wisdom and the logic of the cross.

St. Teresa of Avila once complained about the hardships that Christians face, and she heard the Lord say, “Teresa, whom the Lord loves, He chastises. This is how I treat all my friends.” Ever the witty thinker, she responded, “No wonder you have so few friends!” So, if you are experiencing suffering, hardship and persecution for Christ, or have few friends because of the Christian values you hold, do not despair. Remember: we are counted among the Lord’s friends. So, learn to take up your cross and learn its logic, and you will be assured of a wisdom and a reward that is beyond this world.

God is revealed in our humility

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

It used to be quite easy to define virtue and to recognise a virtuous person. Virtue is moral excellence, goodness and righteousness. A virtuous person is one who possesses all these qualities. But in our society where social media and reality TV have become effective platforms of self-expression, and which have accorded everyone and anyone an opportunity to be a celebrity, true virtue has evolved into virtue signalling. What is virtue signalling? Virtue signalling is to be distinguished from real virtue. It is a performative action to broadcast to the world that "I am a good person.” Without realising it, most of us have a propensity to virtue signal. Thank God, I am blessed to have a close friend who is a reality checker and truth-sayer. He is all too willing to burst my delusional bubble and alert me if I am trodding down the path of self-promotion.

Today’s readings exalt the virtue of humility, not the superficial type of virtue signalling that many of the religious leaders were practising, but the real hard type that comes with a hard-line Christ and a tough form of Christianity. We all know that humility is a Christian virtue but many are often confused as to its meaning. Many people believe humility means self-denigration; in other words, being very critical of oneself, one’s own talents and achievements. The irony is this: whenever we put ourselves down, we actually expect to receive more praises for our achievements. Such humility is undeniably false humility and false humility is a mask for pride. The parable in today’s gospel is not just a lesson for a disguised narcissist to present a false front of self-effacement but rather speaks of every man’s relationship with God, the foundation of true humility.

The setting for today’s gospel is that of a Sabbath meal. As usual, the movements and speech of our Lord were under the scrutiny of both fans, as well as detractors. But in today’s gospel, our Lord would turn the tables on them. He is the One who is the careful observer. He makes a careful and poignant observation about the public behaviour of the Pharisees, who though wishing to be seen as self-effacing and altruistic, were actually quite ambitious and self-serving. After witnessing their jockeying around for the coveted seats, our Lord began to teach.

Our Lord raises two important points, one for the guests and another for the host. Firstly, He warns the guests against an undue sense of superiority. On the one level, His suggestion was a simple and universal advice on etiquette: never presume to take places of honour less you suffer the embarrassment and humiliation of being relegated to a lower position. But here, our Lord was not merely concerned with good manners nor should His sayings be reduced to advice about social graces. Rather, it is clear from the subsequent verses that our Lord was trying to lift the attention of His audience from etiquette to eschatology; not just places at the dining table, but places in the messianic banquet. Of greater concern than their social status in the eyes of others, was their good standing in the eyes of God.

The key to truly gaining honour and earning the pleasure of God lies in humility. As the first reading reminds us, “the greater you are, the more you should behave humbly, and then you will find favour with the Lord, for great though the power of the Lord is, he accepts the homage of the humble.” The person who asserts his or her own importance has already been rewarded with the fleeting and dubious dignity that self-assertion brings. But a single moment of limelight may cost one to suffer a lifetime or even worse, an eternity of derision. Once again, the sin of presumption is their undoing. Again, Ecclesiasticus warns us, that “there is no cure for the proud man’s malady, since an evil growth has taken root in him.” The honest person, however, who recognises the greatness of God as well as his or her own lowliness and needs, will one day share the honour of union with the Lord at the heavenly banquet that never ends.

After having admonished the guests, our Lord turns His attention to the host. No one is spared, not even the good host who had just feted the Lord. Most likely, the Pharisee into whose home Jesus had been invited, had invited others like himself: friends, relatives and those with wealth whose presence would reflect well on the host and his household. All those invited would have been able, and indeed, would have been expected to reciprocate the favour by inviting the host to dine at their respective homes. In the light of this social give-and-take, Jesus’ advice must have seemed shocking and even ridiculous. To invite the beggars, the crippled, the blind and the lame would be to entertain those from whom one could expect no recompense or reciprocation. Such persons would not have brought prestige to the household by their presence. In fact, they would have brought shame to the host, who would be seen as associating himself with the dregs and outcasts of society.

What is the common denominator that links both advices, the first to the guests and the second to the host? Both humility and giving should take the focus off ourselves. It’s not about us. The focus should always be on the Lord. Christianity is about Jesus Christ. He is at the centre of God’s salvation. Christianity is about following Him and declaring our allegiance to Him. It is making Christ known and not just self-promotion. Christianity is not about us. It has something wonderful to say to us, but it is not first and foremost about us. It is not man-centred but God-centred and Christ-centred. This is foundational and basic to the practice of the virtue of humility. This is precisely what is so wrong with the cult of personality - it places man on the pedestal and makes him larger than life, in fact so large as to eclipse God.

Christian humility doesn’t call one to demean oneself for its own sake. Any performative act to showcase one’s humility is hypocrisy and it is quite the opposite of what humility stands for. True humility is a call to recognise one’s total dependence on God and leaves the matter of rank and reward completely to Him. The humble man finds favour with the Lord, not because it is a form of reward, but because the humble man allows God to do what he himself cannot do. The humble man veils himself so that the glory of God may be revealed. Therefore, to take the lowest place is never just to earn honour, respect or even praise from others. To take the lowest place, would be to find ourselves in that very place where Christ had chosen to sit, He who is God, assumed the lowest position of a worthless slave. To give without expecting anything in return would mean that we do not serve, or give, to derive some earthly gain and benefit from our investment, but rather, be assured that what often seems to be a thankless job, will receive its reward from God in heaven.

The Truth isn't Nice

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Many Christians, including Catholics (perhaps more so), actually believe that they are pretty good Christians and are guaranteed a place in heaven, since they are baptised (or as Catholics are fond of proudly but inaccurately stating: “born Catholic”). But the painful truth is that their version of the faith is very often one which is undemanding, customised according to their personal preferences, the dumb-down, no frills, bare minimum light version of the original.

The core teaching of this soft version of Christianity or Catholicism is the gospel of nice or ‘Moralistic Therapeutic Deism’, as one author coins it. Instead of a suffering Christ on the cross, the jovial image of Santa Claus or even a cuddly Care Bear has taken over as potent symbols of this new religion. The gospel of niceness has seeped into our own Christian culture and it has become indiscernible from the real thing. We are often too nice to say no, to question others’ opinions, to critique others’ decisions or to point out the obvious. We let people get away with stuff that is blatantly incorrect or wrong-headed, immoral or illegal, or sinful – we make excuses by being nice about it. We complain when canon law or liturgical rubrics are cited or implemented. In such a religious system, the following words and concepts are taboo and have been expunged from our vocabulary – sin, moral evil, and of course, “hell!” A God who is the personification of niceness will never tolerate hell! Never!

Here are some core beliefs of this new politically correct religion:

1. God wants people to be good, nice, and fair to each other.

2. The central goal of life is to be happy and to feel good about oneself.

3. God is not involved in my life except when I need God to resolve a problem.

4. Since no one is really bad, and sin doesn’t really exist, everyone gets to go to heaven.

So, does hell exist? In the Gospel today someone asked the Lord, “Lord, will only a few people be saved?” This is a topic most Catholics are concerned about as well. It is a difficult subject to think about and we would rather not think about it if we can. Many Catholics believe everyone will go to heaven, and that there isn’t such a thing as hell. They believe that God is loving, forgiving, merciful and would never send anyone to hell. This view, however, is simply a personal opinion! It is not based on the catechism or the scriptures, which is most evident in today’s Gospel. In fact, this belief is called the sin of presumption.

Our Lord avoided a simple straightforward answer. And this wasn’t because He felt uncomfortable with the topic as modern people would. Instead, He began to lay out the high demands of discipleship, which is a way of stating that we should never take salvation for granted. He answered the question by saying that we should strive to enter through the narrow gate and adds this sobering but significant footnote, “many will try to enter and will not succeed.” The reason for this would be that many would prefer the easier and more convenient path. As Yogi bear would often exclaim, “why do more when you can do less?”

But our Lord lays out for us a choice between two paths in life. The first is the difficult path that leads to the narrow gate and ultimately to Eternal Life. The second is the broad and easy path which leads to the wide gate and a destructive end. It is a popular error of our time to believe that it does not matter which road one takes. What’s toxic about the denial of hell is that it suggests that God doesn’t much care what we do in this life as long as everyone’s enjoying it. That’s not Christianity, that’s hedonism, the worship of enjoyment and fun.

The ‘narrow door’ which the Lord speaks of, flies in the face of the core tenets of Moral Therapeutic Deism. It is a reminder that Christianity is not a ‘free for all’ ideology. It implies that there are boundaries, there are heavy demands, there are consequences to our actions, that living according to God’s commandments would mean that one must be open to admonishment. It suggests that one should not take salvation for granted and that damnation is very real for those who choose not to go through the ‘narrow door.’ Our Lord knew that “nice people” (or at least they thought so) would have Him crucified because what He taught them would not be deemed sufficiently “nice.” Our Lord went to the cross not because He was nice or He wasn’t, that is immaterial. He willingly accepted death on the cross because He loved His people “to the end”. Love is the ultimate criterion, and not whether people get offended or not.

In the final analysis, the gospel of niceness won’t do. It isn’t salvific. It isn’t Jesus’ message. In other words, it’s a false religion that makes us feel good about ourselves – the gospel of ‘shiok sendiri’. Admit it; part of the appeal of a gospel of niceness is that it makes us feel good about ourselves. This often translates into the gospel of comfort and convenience – we know that we have subscribed to it when we complain about the uncomfortable pews, the temperature in the Church, the inconvenience of parking and of course, the long services and homilies. If the gospel is that niceness is the solution, then we’ve missed the point. Niceness won’t save you. Comfort and convenience won’t save you. In fact, the only thing the easy and soft gospel of niceness will do is to ease you into hell. You won’t know what hit you till it’s too late. On the other hand, the life, suffering, death, burial, and resurrection of a crucified Christ will be our salvation. Anything else is an idol and a false gospel.

The Gospel of Christ, paid by His own blood on the cross, is demanding. It demands that we make the ultimate sacrifice by turning our backs on wealth, power and popularity, comfort and convenience, the false gods that have become the defining elements in our lives. It demands that we burn our bridges when we have resolved to follow Jesus on the road to Calvary. It demands that we store treasures in heaven where it cannot be stolen or suffer the ravages of destruction. It demands that we avoid seeking honour among men, but strive to become rich in the sight of God. It demands passage through the narrow door. It demands that we expose the lies which Moralistic Therapeutic Deism peddles.

Charity covers a multitude of sins; but it does not call evil good; it does not give excuses for inconsistencies; it does not hide the inconvenient truth with a dressed-up lie. Crookedness and worldliness are still crookedness and worldliness, sin remains sin even if you choose to sugar-coat it. In the final analysis, it is not love nor is it broad-mindedness, when we allow people to follow their own erroneous ways, paths that may ultimately lead them to destruction. It is always the loving thing to help people choose the narrow and hard path, which will remain unpopular, because the Cross will never be a popular option, but it is most necessary for our salvation.

Love has won

Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

There is a popular adage to describe the beginning and end of life: “from the womb to the tomb.” As poignant and insightful as this statement may be, it is inaccurate. Our faith allows us to broaden our vision and to recognise that human life begins with God, we were already part of His grand plan before we were formed in our mother’s womb, and we are destined not to end our lives in the tomb but to be united with Him at the end of our earthly sojourn. Mary’s life is proof of this. She, whose womb is greater than the heavens because it contained the Lord Creator of heaven and earth and “bore” Him to this world, could not be contained in an earthly tomb at the end of her earthly journey. Heaven welcomed her eagerly and joyously for she had accomplished what the heavens could not.

The story of Mary did not begin in the womb of St Anne, her mother. She was already prefigured in the pages of the Old Testament because her creation was already part of God’s design for humankind’s redemption. In the Book of Genesis, we see her coming being announced in the text known as the protoevangelium which gave us a glimmer of hope after the Fall of Man (Gen. 3:15-16). The prophecy is that a virgin will give birth without having a relationship with a man, and the Child will crush the head of the invisible enemy, namely Satan. In the Old Testament the Ρatriarch Jacob sees in his dream a heavenly ladder which connected Heaven and Earth, with the angels of God ascending and descending this ladder. The Fathers of the Church see this ladder as a prophecy of the Virgin Mary which, through her, connects man to God (Gen. 28:l2). When Moses finds himself in front of the flaming bush which was not consumed by the fire on Mount Sinai, the fact that the Blessed Virgin Mary was to receive in her womb the Divine Logos, and that she was to remain a Virgin, are prophesied.

If Mary’s mission began before she was formed in her mother’s womb, we can only assume that it would have a far grander ending than in a tomb. It is only right that the mother’s life which was so intimately intertwined with her divine Son’s life should also share His eternal destiny at the end of her earthly life. If her Son’s empty tomb was the first sign and proof of His resurrection, her empty tomb would also be the first sign of her bodily Assumption to heaven.

Early Christian writings tell us that St John the Apostle took Mary with him to Ephesus, as he had been instructed by the Lord on the cross. There is some dispute about where the Blessed Virgin ended her life, perhaps there in Ephesus, perhaps back at Jerusalem on Mount Zion. Neither of these cities nor any other claimed her remains, although there are claims about possessing her (temporary) tomb. Why did no city claim the bones of Mary? Apparently because there were no bones to claim, and people knew it. Remember that in the early Christian centuries, relics of saints were jealously guarded and highly prized. Yet here was Mary, certainly the most privileged of all the saints but we have no record of her bodily remains being venerated anywhere. The Orthodox Shrine at the foot of the Mount of Olives, which Orthodox Christians claim was her final resting place, is empty, as empty as the Holy Sepulcher, the traditional site of the tomb of Jesus. There are no relics to venerate because Mary was assumed into heaven both body and soul leaving no remains behind.

Mary’s privileged beginning and ending is rooted in what makes her blessed, or in some translations “happy”. In today’s gospel we see how Mary is praised by an anonymous woman in the crowd because her womb bore the Lord and her breasts suckled Him. This is the first beatitude assigned to a specific human person, and Mary has the sole privilege of being the bearer of this blessing. But the Lord was quick to point out that Mary is more blessed because of her disciple’s heart: “Still happier those who hear the word of God and keep it!” Pope Benedict affirmed this truth: “Mary lived on the Word of God, she was imbued with the Word of God. And the fact that she was immersed in the Word of God and was totally familiar with the Word also endowed her later with the inner enlightenment of wisdom.”

Most of the peoples of the ancient world, if they believed in life after death at all, believed merely in the immortality of the human soul: as if the ultimate human destiny was for us all merely to end up like Casper the friendly Ghost! Not much "good news" in that! But the Gospel message is not only that Jesus Himself rose again in a glorified body and soul, but that also, if our hearts live in union with His, we, too, shall rise to a glorified life, body and soul, just like His own. This is precisely what the Assumption of Mary proclaims: "Christ is Risen - and is now bringing all faithful hearts with Him to glory!" The Assumption of Mary is a loud and triumphant proclamation of the full truth of Easter. Her assumption—which flows from her unique participation in Christ’s victory—anticipates to some degree our own share in the fullness of that victory if we persevere as followers of Christ. The good news that the Apostles proclaimed to the world was not only that Christ is Risen, but that, precisely because He is Risen, He is bringing His whole mystical Body on earth to join Him one day in heavenly glory.

Yes, today is a day the Church rejoices, not only because the Blessed Virgin Mary has been freed from the prison of the grave and assumed into heaven both body and soul, but because of what her assumption means for the whole Church. From Mary’s pure womb, the kingdom of God was opened for us. And her ascent into the Heavens now also announces that the gates of heaven are also opened to us. Pope Emeritus Benedict sums it up in his homily for this feast: “The Feast of the Assumption is a day of joy. God has won. Love has won. It has won life. Love has shown that it is stronger than death, that God possesses the true strength and that his strength is goodness and love. Mary was taken up body and soul into Heaven: there is even room in God for the body. Heaven is no longer a very remote sphere unknown to us.”

Choose a Side

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

There are two parts to today’s Gospel and if we are not careful, we may casually conflate the two and imagine that our Lord is some kind of a sick arsonist wannabe who is announcing his proposed terrorist act of burning everything to cinder and ashes. The first part which sounds more incendiary (forgive the pun) is actually the more innocent of the two.

When our Lord speaks of bringing fire to earth, it is spoken in the light of a more benign Promethean mission that will benefit earthly mortals, rather than how the prophet Elijah called down fire from heaven to incinerate his enemies. This fire which our Lord is referring to is used in a metaphorical sense, and we immediately see its connexion with baptism which our Lord mentions in the next line. St John the Baptist had earlier prophesied regarding the One who is coming, who would “baptise… with the Holy Spirit and fire” (Luke 3:16). The combination of fire and baptism looks forward to the descent of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, when the disciples will be baptised and filled with the Holy Spirit. So, there is nothing insidious about our Lord’s announcement here. He has not come to end the world but inaugurate a new epoch. His mission is not to destroy but to invigorate, to literally set the world and His disciples on fire, with zeal for the Kingdom. Our Lord then makes another connexion between the baptism He must receive with His passion and death.

After this announcement, our Lord starts to announce how His mission and gospel will necessarily bring about division, even among household relationships which are the bedrock of society. The reason for this is because the Lord Jesus has come as a sign of contradiction. Remember the prophecy of Simeon to the parents of the infant Jesus: “Behold, this child is destined for the fall and rise of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be contradicted…” (Luke 2:34).

The list of household relationships which will be split by their changing alliances with Jesus and the gospel is a fulfilment of Micah 7:6, the last line of which is directly reproduced and paraphrased in today’s Gospel: "For the son dishonours the father; the daughter rises up against her mother, the daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law. A man's enemies are the men of his own household." (Micah 7:6) Rabbis would later interpret Micah 7:6 as the fulfilment of the Messianic age. This means that one of the signs by which we will know that the Messianic age has begun, would be the emergence of cracks and divisions within families and society.

The effect of the Messiah’s coming would be to cause division, as some chose to believe and follow, while others did not, even splitting families in their allegiance. The truth of the Gospel has the power to deeply unite us to God when we fully accept it as the Word of Truth. But another effect is that it divides us from those who refuse to be united to God in the Truth. People are, therefore, forced to make a choice between loyalty to God and towards family. A person who decides to follow Christ must come to terms that he/she will face persecution for his/her faith. At best they will be ridiculed, and at worst, they may be martyred.

Our culture today wants to preach what we call “relativism.” This ideology is very appealing because it argues that if we are to get along with each other, we must go along with the mainstream culture. This is an idea that, what is good and true for me may not be good and true for you, but that in spite of us all having different “truths,” we can still all be one happy family. But how can something be objectively true for some but not for others. Something is true because it has always been true and will always be true. To deny this is a lie, and any unity which is built on a lie, is also a lie. Our Lord was rejected because He did not subscribe to this lie and we should not be surprised if that happens to us, too.

We often assume that peace making is peacekeeping, but they are not the same thing. We prefer peacekeeping to avoid arguments because we assume conflict is undesirable, unpredictable, and uncomfortable—something shameful or even sinful. But peacekeeping is actually founded on a lie. Peacekeeping is when we keep our feelings suppressed, we keep our thoughts repressed, and we keep our tongues stuck to the roof of our mouths because we might say the wrong thing and end up in an unwanted conflict.

It is important to note that conflict in itself is not a sin, anger as an emotion is not evil, and making right judgments is not bad judgment. Such judgment is often the pathway to making peace. Truth is not painless, honesty is not easy, and facing reality does not come naturally. Therefore, peace is made; sometimes by going through conflict, not by sidestepping it. Conflict rises from differences in what persons value. Naturally, there will be conflict between those who subscribe to gospel values and those who don’t. To avoid conflict at all cost means that one must ultimately compromise our deepest values. That would be fine if we discover that these values are wrong or misplaced. But compromising values whilst knowing that they are right, is the greatest betrayal to truth. That is why peacekeeping is the safe choice but it is not the wise one. Peacekeeping is sacrificing truth at the altar of a false and tenuous peace. Many had stood by silently while atrocities have been committed.

It is inevitable that there will be conflict between good and evil, the Christ and the antichrist, light and darkness, truth and falsehood, the children of God and the children of the devil. In this conflict, we cannot remain neutral. We must choose sides. The stakes are exceedingly high if you choose to side with the Lord and with the Truth. It will entail rejection by family and friends, humiliation and persecution by the world. It will entail the cross.

Vigilance and Stewardship

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Today’s Gospel has two parts - the first is a set of prescriptions concerning material wealth and the second, is a set of short parables about vigilance and stewardship. The first part makes a good transition from last week’s reading where our Lord told the parable of the Rich Fool, emphasising the futility of hoarding earthly treasures. In contrast to the Rich Fool who hoarded his wealth and refused to share it with others, we are told in today’s passage to share it with others through almsgiving. Instead of accumulating earthly wealth, almsgiving is storing up “treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it.” Here’s the irony of true worth, the more we give away, the more enriched we become. The Lord then sums up His teaching on trusting God’s providence rather than earthly wealth with this saying: “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”

The topic abruptly changes as the Lord now instructs His disciples with parables based on eschatological themes concerning the master’s coming: the vigilance required of servants awaiting their master; a household owner not knowing what time the thief comes and finally a steward’s duties during his master’s absence. Is our Lord referring to His passion, death and resurrection or is He referring to His second coming at the end of this age? The text is deliberately ambivalent and could very well be taken to refer to both events.

The first parable has our Lord telling His disciples to be “dressed for action and have your lamps lit.” The phrase can be literally translated as “gird your loins,” which means to gather up one’s ankle length robe (need to remember that they did not wear trousers) and tuck it at the waist with a belt so that one can be ready for hard menial work. It is not only a practical set of instructions but also alludes to the command given to Israel regarding the Passover meal before the Exodus: “this is how you are to eat it: with your loins girded” (Exod 12:11). Our Lord’s accompanying instruction to have their “lamps lit” also fits this connexion, since the Passover meal and flight took place at night. The Passover imagery used serves two purposes - first, the Master’s return would not be a frightening event, unless you are unprepared, but one in which He will bring liberation to His people. Second, this is consistent with Jewish expectation that the Messiah would come during the meal on Passover night. This would be fulfilled by the Lord’s Passion, Death and Resurrection which will take place over the Jewish Passover.

This subtle allusion to the Paschal Triduum appears again in the next line when the context of the Master’s return is at a wedding feast. At one level, this could refer to the messianic banquet (Isa 25:6-8; 55:1-3). At another level it could be pointing to the scene of the Last Supper where the Lord after having instituted the Eucharist, does what He has predicted in this passage, that “he will put on an apron, sit them down at table and wait on them.” The Eucharist becomes the foretaste and anticipation of the messianic banquet of the Kingdom at our Lord’s second coming. The end times theme effortlessly slips back into the flow of this story when our Lord tells them that the coming of the Son of Man will be at an unknown hour - it could even be at the second or third watch, which means the hours when people are usually asleep. So, the disciples must always be prepared. As they were called to remain awake during the Lord’s agony in the garden, so must they remain vigilant while awaiting the Lord’s return.

This constant vigilance required is illustrated by another parable. The strange metaphor used is that of a burglar who comes at an unexpected hour. Although it may seem strange to equate the messianic figure of the Son of Man with a burglar, the point is clear. Just as a burglar, if he wishes to be successful in his mission, would not announce the hour of his coming to the houseowner, the Lord’s coming too will be sudden, in order to achieve His mission. He will break into history not when it seems to be finished, nor indeed when all seems hopeless, but at a time that makes sense to Him. And when He does come, He expects to find us working for that Kingdom which He alone can bring to completion.

Until this stage of our passage, our Lord’s teachings were meant for everyone, but the last segment seems to be specifically targeted at the apostles or Christian leaders in general, the stewards of God’s graces. The transition into this last part is occasioned by St Peter’s question: “Lord, do you mean this parable for us, or for everyone?” To Peter’s credit, he addresses Jesus as “Lord” (Kyrios), which is the title used by Jews to address God and can also be translated as “master,” perhaps showing that Peter understood that the “master” in the Lord’s parables, is referencing Jesus. It would have taken some time for Peter to understand the full extent of what he had asked, but by the time he wrote his first epistle, he seemed to have grasp it: “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms” (1 Peter 4:10).

Our Lord’s answer seems to be especially addressed to Peter and the Twelve, which He had chosen to be His leaders or stewards: “What sort of steward, then, is faithful and wise enough for the master to place him over his household to give them their allowance of food at the proper time?” The distribution of food, according to the Acts of the Apostles, was part of the job description of the Apostles until the task was delegated to the deacons. But this could also mean that their duty was to feed the faithful with both the Word and the Sacrament.

Our Lord answers His own rhetorical question by providing us with two examples - one of the faithful and wise servant who is rewarded with a blessing because he is found to be at his job upon his master’s arrival, and another, of the presumptuous servant who abuses his underlings and indulges himself in self-pleasure. The latter will be duly punished for his failings.

Our Lord then sets out a rule, that the punishment meted out would be proportionate to the amount of knowledge or level of authority the person possessed. Hence, more is entrusted, more is demanded. In a corrupt world, where the weak are often scapegoated and punished with the harshest of penalties, and the powerful are let off with a minor drubbing or escape accountability altogether, we know that no one can escape the justice of God that awaits us at the end. There will be an accounting and our actions have consequences which we must bear.

Thus, our Lord sets before us some practical guidance for this present life in which we live and also how we should live in anticipation of the future. We should not be so blind and myopic as to be so utterly focused with the present, without realising that our actions have consequences, eternal consequences for our souls. We never know what each day will bring, just as no one knows when the Son of Man will return. That is why we are to be faithful at whatever duty that has been entrusted to us, and preparation to meet the Lord must be a lifelong commitment. Whether in our business, personal or spiritual life, this should be how we think, live, and pray. We never know when an important event will occur. Each day is a day of possibility. Each day, a sharp turn can occur. The only thing we need to know is that our Lord has asked us to be prepared. So, with our lamps lit, let’s get working, let’s be dressed for action, so that we can indeed face the future, and the present, with courage and joy.