Priest, Prophet and King

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A

Good Shepherd Sunday

I am going to do a “show and tell” for today’s homily. The perfect illustration for the threefold office or ministry of a priest as Priest, Prophet and King, is to be found in the principal liturgical furnishings in the sanctuary. The altar and the ambo are obvious candidates but that’s only two. How about the third since the office of Christ and the priest is threefold? Let me give you a clue. It serves as the most functional furnishing if you do not expect the priest to stand throughout the Mass. Yes, it’s the presider’s chair!

Together with the altar and ambo, the celebrant’s chair is considered one of the three principal liturgical furnishings in the sanctuary of every Catholic church. The altar stands as an image of Christ exercising His priestly office and gives a foretaste of the heavenly banqueting table. The ambo signifies the dignity of the Word of God proclaimed and magnifies its importance. The chair, too, has its own mystagogical role to play: the cathedra, or bishop’s chair, signifies the teaching, governing and sanctifying role of the bishop in his diocese as successor of the apostles. By extension, every priest celebrant’s chair in a parish church signifies the priest’s headship during the sacred liturgy and his mission to sanctify and govern those in his care.

If you think that the above explanation is insufficient, try Bishop Robert Barron’s take on it. He writes: “A classic characterisation of Jesus is that He is priest, prophet, and king. As priest, He sanctifies, that is to say, He reestablishes the lost link between divinity and humanity; as prophet, He speaks and embodies the divine truth; and as king, He leads us on the right path, giving guidance to the human project. You might say that, as priest, He is the life; as prophet, He is the truth; and as king He is the way.”

The readings chosen for this Sunday also provides us with further insight on these three offices. Let’s start with the order of the offices rather than the sequencing of the readings.

For the office of priest, let us look at the second reading. The idea of Jesus as High Priest is most apparent in the letter to the Hebrews, whereas the evangelists often depict Him as a prophet and king. But here in this pastoral letter by the first of the apostles, our first Pope, St Peter shows us Christ in His priestly role of sacrificing Himself in atonement for our sins, in healing our wounds by allowing Himself to be wounded, in laying down His life so that we may live. In this passage St Peter encourages Christians to follow the sacrificial example of Jesus Christ in the face of persecution. Persecution is, in fact, the assumed “default state” of the Church, with times of peace and tranquility being exceptional rather than normative. And so Peter reminds us that, “Christ suffered for you and left an example for you to follow the way he took.” That is why a priest is called to die so that others may live.

The first reading speaks clearly of the need for prophets, those who speak the truth of God. Peter is once again featured here. Without courageous preaching of St Peter at that first Pentecost, putting himself at risk of arrest and even death, the three thousand men who were in attendance would not have come to the faith. Just like prophets of old, Peter, the apostles, and all who call ourselves followers of Christ, in fact Christians which mean “a little Christ,” we must issue the very first call of our Lord to everyone to repent and believe in the gospel. We think that it is sufficient to just be a good neighbour, be kind to everyone we meet and choose not to rock the boat by declaring our faith and our deepest convictions. All that is needed but it is insufficient. The prophetic role calls us to disturb the comfortable as well as comfort the disturbed.

Pope Benedict XVI in speaking of the prophetic role of the priest tells us that “the priest does not teach his own ideas, a philosophy that he himself has invented, that he has discovered or likes; the priest does not speak of himself, he does not speak for himself, to attract admirers, perhaps, or create a party of his own; he does not say his own thing, his own inventions but, in the medley of all the philosophies, the priest teaches in the name of Christ present, he proposes the truth that is Christ himself, his word and his way of living and of moving ahead.”

Finally, we turn to the gospel as our Lord’s illustration of what it means to be a king. This is part of the Good Shepherd discourse of our Lord found only in St John’s Gospel. The alignment of king and shepherd may not be so apparent in modern times but the image of kings as the shepherd of the people of Israel goes back to the ancient Near Eastern concept of the king as shepherd of his nation. Think of the shepherd’s crook as one of the sceptres, symbols of authority, of the Egyptian Pharaoh.

But here in this section of the discourse two other images are used by the Lord, images connected to the shepherd. Our Lord tells us that He is the gatekeeper as well as the gate. It is interesting to note how Bishop Barron rightly associates the third office of King with being the Way. Gatekeeping seems to have taken on a negative connotation these days, implying elitism, which seems to be associated with Pharisaical behaviour: “Woe to you experts in the law, because you have taken away the key to knowledge. You yourselves have not entered, and you have hindered those who were entering” (Luke 11:52). But as our Lord suggests in today’s parable, the role of the gatekeeper is twofold - the first is to grant safe passage to both shepherd and his flock and the second, is to prevent those who seek to bring destruction, “the thieves and brigands,” from entering. The second part of this pastoral ministry may cause discomfort to many moderns as inclusivism and relativism have become integral parts of modernist theologies. In seeking to create an inclusive borderless Church, many make the mistake of ignoring our Lord’s caution in today’s gospel passage: “anyone who does not enter the sheepfold through the gate, but gets in some other way is a thief and a brigand.” The only way we are going to get in is through the gate, through Christ who is the Way, the Truth and the Life, and on His terms, and not on ours.

The threefold office is not just attributed to Christ and ascribed to ordained ministers by virtue of their sacramental identity as in persona Christi Capitis. All of us by virtue of our baptism, also share in this three fold ministry. The baptised serve as priests through their sacrificial efforts to bring people to God. They serve as prophets through their witness to the truth in word and deed. And they serve as kings in their efforts to lead others—again through word and deed—to use their talents to advance the Kingdom of God (see CCC 1241).

The final part of the Mass could arguably provide a call to any of the three offices depending on the language used that day. One of the options is this “Go and announce the Gospel of the Lord!” This speaks to the prophetic office most clearly as we are called to “announce” by our words and actions what has been shared with us. Another option of the dismissal is “glorifying the Lord by our lives.” This implies the priestly office as our holiness incarnates the blessing we have received from God in the world. Finally, for us to “Go forth in peace,” would be the result of establishing justice and order, which are the roles of the kingly office. So, my dear brothers and sisters, “go and announce the gospel of the Lord,” “glorify the Lord by your lives,” and “go forth in peace”!

A King to rule, A God to be worshipped, A Saviour to die

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

Epiphany is like a riddle that needs unravelling. It gets convoluted when we try to number the kings that make up the story. There is Herod the Great who is King of that time. Though he has self-styled himself with that “Great” appendage, he is a mere vassal, a puppet ruler beholden to the Romans ruling. Then we have Jesus whom the magi declare as “the infant king of the Jews,” a title that is ironically prophetic because it would appear once again under order of the Roman authorities on the plaque or titulus which hung over the head of Jesus on the cross. Finally, we have the unspecified number of wise men or magi from the East who have been immortalised as “three Kings from Orient”, who were most likely astrologers who were experts in magical divination rather than of royal lineage. Over the centuries, the Wise Men were given names–Caspar, Melchior and Balthasar - and they were venerated as saints. In fact, if you go to the Cathedral in Cologne, Germany, you will find relics alleged to be the remains of the Wise Men. How did the wise men of our story become the three kings of song and tradition? Despite what modern people would refute, there may be biblical evidence to support the tradition.

Isaiah predicted that at a time of darkness, the glory of the Lord will shine over Jerusalem. The heavenly light will be a beacon to the pagan nations and even to their kings. The prophecy of Isaiah may be one of the reasons why these Magi are often associated with kings. Despite the regular chastisement on the accuracy of this tradition from the pulpit (that there were an indeterminate number of wise men recorded in the gospel instead of the popular three kings), this has little effect on popular culture such as carols and Christmas pageant plays where children compete to be dressed in the splendorous costumes of these royal figures. As for the number of Magi which traditionally is set at three, no mention of their numbers can be found in St Matthew’s story. The three gifts which they bear may be the reason for concluding that there were three wise men or kings who visited the Christ-child. God forbid if they had to share Christmas or birthday presents.

Now that we’ve uncovered a possible reason for identifying the Magi with the three kings, it would be good to see the difference between Isaiah’s prophecy and the actual fulfilment of that prophecy in the visit of the Magi. It has to do with the number of gifts. On the matter of gifts, I often recall the gifts that were brought by the fairies to the christening of Sleeping Beauty. Each gift was a blessing save the penultimate one - the wicked and vengeful fairy who was not invited to the party, conferred on the child the gift of death. The last fairy, though she could not undo this curse entirely, blunted it by transforming the curse of death into a long sleep that could only be awakened with a prince’s kiss. Doesn’t that sound like the work of Christ in blunting death’s blow through the gift of the resurrection?

I digress. Let’s come back to our story of the gifts in the readings. Isaiah only mentions two - gold and incense - but St Matthew mentions three - gold, frankincense (which is a type of incense) and myrrh. The omission of the third gift in Isaiah’s prophecy and its inclusion in St Matthew’s list, is telling. It serves as a clue and shows that a particular aspect was missing from the Jewish expectation of the Messiah based on the Old Testament but was made clearer in the revelation of the New Testament. And the third gift is crucial to our story.

The three gifts have often been described as symbols - gold for a king and incense for a deity. This child is indeed a King but more than a king, He is God Incarnate, thus deserving not just our adulation but also our adoration. But what about the myrrh, which is mentioned in the gospel but omitted in Isaiah’s prophecy –where does that come from and what does it mean?

Myrrh, an aromatic resin, was used in preparing the dead for burial. It was used to anoint corpses to mask the stench and also served to preserve the body from immediate decay. There we have it - the missing link that completes the prophecy of the future fate of this child. Gold reveals that the babe in the manger is actually a king; frankincense tells us that He is God Incarnate; but myrrh reveals to us that this King, who is in fact our God, has come to die.

That someone would redeem God’s people through suffering and death was never part of the Jewish expectation of their Messiah. They failed to make a connexion between their expectation of a triumphant and glorious Messiah, with the Suffering Servant spoken of by Isaiah a few chapters earlier (Isaiah 53). This was the really hard thing for those living in Jesus’ time to comprehend –that the same person who fulfilled all those prophecies about a glorious new king, also fulfilled the prophecies about a mysterious figure in Isaiah’s prophecy who must suffer at the hands of His tormentors and enemies.

It would be good if we just stuck to the first two gifts. Many would have little to no objections to accept this child as their king. It may be far more difficult to acknowledge His divine nature but we can still work that into our formulae. But perhaps the most challenging aspect of this revelation is that this King, our deathless God, should choose to die. All three gifts of the Magi, however, are necessary to complete the true revelation, the true epiphany of who this child is, and what He is destined to do. We must never lose sight of this; that He is at once our King, our God, and Saviour who dies for us, for if any one of these aspects of His identity is omitted, He ceases to be who He truly is, He will not be the Saviour that we would need.

So, here as we had just heard from the Proclamation of the date of Easter and Moveable Feasts, distant rumblings of the Paschal event: the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord. Here in the gifts presented by the Magi, especially in the last gift, we see the inseparable link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.

Tradition gives us the names of the Magi -Caspar, Balthasar, Melchior. But the fact that Matthew gives them no names is telling. They may be kings, but in this story they are merely supporting actors. They follow the true Star, the King of Kings. Only His name is important. The Feast of the Epiphany is not about the Magi–it’s all about Jesus. And just like the Bethlehem star, their very presence and gifts reveal to us who this Child is - He is our King whom we must obey and serve, He is our Lord and God whom we must worship and finally, He is our Saviour who will die for us in expiation of our sins.

Venite Adoremus - Come let us adore Him.

There can be no peace without Christ

First Sunday of Advent Year A

One of President Trump’s biggest boasts, and he has good reason to trumpet this (pardon the pun), is that he is the “Peace President,” since he has brokered numerous peace treaties throughout the world within the first year of his presidency. One last trophy that he aspires would be to end the bloody conflict between Ukraine and Russia, a peace deal which has eluded him thus far. Well, we still have until Christmas, and that would be a wondrous Christmas gift for all stakeholders. Global peace is not just a universal aspiration in modern times but something desired throughout mankind’s turbulent history. The prophet Isaiah in the first reading sums this up in his vision: “Nation will not lift sword against nation, there will be no more training for war.”

Even as breaches against ceasefire treaties take place in various hotspots, threatening to throw warring parties back into war, the question remains: how long would this last? How can we ever get from a bloodthirsty crowd to become peaceniks? The readings on this First Sunday of Advent provide us with the answer. There can be no peace, if such peace does not exist within our hearts. And for that peace to reign in our hearts, God must rule it. And the reason why lasting peace eludes us is that we haven’t yet allowed God to truly rule our hearts.

Yes, lasting peace cannot be merely achieved through human brokered peace treaties. Threats of nuclear annihilation and oppressive trade sanctions may serve as a temporary deterrent, but violence cannot be defeated by more violence or threats of it. There may be superficial and temporary ceasefire but hatred festers unseen within the heart. Martin Luther King Jr. prophetically said: “Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that.” This profound sentiment embraces the spirit of Advent and the hope that is rooted in Christ— He is the Light that has penetrated our darkness in order to dispel it, the Prince of Peace who has come to “wield authority over the nations and adjudicate between the many peoples; these will hammer their swords into ploughshares, their spears into sickles.”

In the first reading, the Prophet Isaiah provides us with an astounding spoiler alert of how things would end, how darkness would be conquered by the light and how hatred would be defeated by love. You would imagine that Isaiah or God who revealed this to him would have kept this surprise to the very end, but God does not waste time in playing games with us nor wishes to keep us in suspense. The glorious ending has already been written. The peoples of Isaiah’s days see a besieged city on the brink of destruction sitting on a modest hill but God wishes to present them with an entirely new POV. The hill on which Jerusalem lies is not a particularly high one, but when Christ comes it will be a towering mountain, dominating the whole world. All nations will realise its importance and come to Jerusalem not to conquer it or to destroy it but to draw salvation from it, the source of all salvation. God will teach the people His ways, wield authority over nations, and adjudicate among the peoples. When people listen to the voice of God and abide by His will, all striving and conflict will end.

St Paul in the second reading makes a similar call when he tells us to “wake up” because “our salvation is even nearer than it was when we were converted. The night is almost over, it will be daylight soon – let us give up all the things we prefer to do under cover of the dark; let us arm ourselves and appear in the light. Let us live decently as people do in the daytime: no drunken orgies, no promiscuity or licentiousness, and no wrangling or jealousy. Let your armour be the Lord Jesus Christ.” St Paul’s diagnosis of the malaise of his time is equally applicable today. People continue to deliberately choose to live in sin and darkness rather than to walk in the light of Christ. That is why every Advent becomes an urgent call to “wake up” from this stupor, to repent of our sins but also to prophetically and challenge the world to do the same.

Our Lord in our Gospel today speaks to His disciples and us: “So stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming,” and then adds at the very end: “Therefore, you too must stand ready because the Son of Man is coming at an hour you do not expect.” This season of preparation for the Birth of Christ should cause us to pause to have perspective on our relationship with the Lord and make space in our hearts and lives to bring His light where there may be shadows of sin and selfishness. God’s love wants to break through the darkness so that we may be redeemed and be made new in His promises—this is our great hope. Let us be clear - only He alone can bring peace to your troubled hearts, your broken homes, and this conflicted world of ours.

In the year following the horrendous attack on the World Trade Centre in New York on September 11, Pope St John Paul II wrote these prophetic words in his message for World Day of Prayer for Peace: “No peace without justice, no justice without forgiveness: I shall not tire of repeating this warning to those who, for one reason or another, nourish feelings of hatred, a desire for revenge or the will to destroy. But only Christ can bring perfect justice and offer perfect forgiveness, for this reason, my dear brothers and sisters, there can be no peace without Christ.”

May we take in, the grace of this season—quieting ourselves so that we may watch and listen for the Lord who is already present in our midst. Make Him the centre of your lives. Let Him rule your hearts. Let His light penetrate your homes and workplace. He is coming, let us be awake, vigilant, and ready to welcome Him. Indeed, let us heed the words of the Psalmist: “Let us go rejoicing to the house of the Lord” and never forget that “there can be no peace without Christ.”

Long live Christ the King

Solemnity of Christ the King of the Universe Year C

Twice this year, a loosed coalition of anti-Trump groups funded by globalist billionaires and endorsed by the opposition Democratic Party organised nationwide rallies in many cities across the United States under the common banner of “No Kings.” They were claiming that the man in the White House, which many refused to acknowledge as their president, who won the 2024 presidential election which many of them denied, is a pretentious tyrannical dictator, in other words, an unelected king! But there is irony in their chants and claims.

It’s wild how the same people chanting “No Kings” are the first to bow to every new trend, influencer, or ideology that tells them what to think, what to post, and what to believe. The truth is everyone serves something. The only question is who sits on the throne of your heart.

You can reject authority all you want, but it doesn’t change reality. There is a King. He doesn’t need your vote, your approval, or your permission. His name is Jesus. And unlike the kings of this world, here is a king whose throne is the cross, whose crown is made of thorns, whose soldiers do not fight for Him but mock Him, whose courtiers abandon Him, deny Him and even betray Him. The scene which we just heard in the gospel portrays this stark contrast between this King, whom we today acclaim as the King of Kings and the Lord of the Universe, and all the monarchs that have ever ruled in human history.

The “No Kings” crowd says they’re free, but their chains are just invisible. They worship self, culture, and chaos. Meanwhile, the King they reject is the only one who actually died to set them free. You can shout “No Kings” all day long, but one day, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.

Many have stood up for their faith in this King and have died martyrs. They would rather die as faithful subjects of this Divine King than to bend their knee to some earthly ruler who demands absolute obedience to the point of suppressing faith in any religion or God.

One of these men is a saintly and faithful bishop. This year marks the 25th anniversary of Cardinal Kung's death. Cardinal Ignatius Pin-Mei Kung was the Bishop of the Catholic Diocese of Shanghai and the unofficial leader of the Underground Catholic Church in China for decades. He was consecrated bishop just after the Chinese Communist Party had taken over China. Certainly, not the best of time for the faith. In defiance of the CCP, Bishop Kung personally supervised members of the Legion of Mary to train catechists to pass on the faith when all the priests were gone.

In 1952, Bishop Kung declared that year to be a Marian Year in Shanghai, during which there was to be uninterrupted round-the-clock recitation of the rosary in front of a statue of Our Lady of Fatima which toured all the parishes of Shanghai. The holy statue finally arrived at Christ the King Church where a major arrest of the priests had just taken place only a month before. Bishop Kung led the Rosary there while hundreds of armed police looked on. At the end of the Rosary Bishop Kung prayed: "Holy Mother, we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

Between 1951 and 1955 all foreign priests and religious sisters were deported from China, sometimes after time in prison. Chinese bishops, priests, sisters and legionaries were typically arrested, subject to public humiliation, brainwashing sessions, torture, and sent to labour camps for long periods (often more than 20 years) or simply executed. Not all Catholics remained faithful.

Bishop Kung was arrested along with more than 200 priests and other Catholics on 8 September, 1955, the Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary. He was subjected to a mob "struggle session" (an orchestrated denunciation by a baying crowd which sometimes becomes violent) in the old Dog Racing Stadium in Shanghai. Thousands were ordered to attend and to hear the Bishop's public confession of his “crimes". With his hands tied behind his back, wearing a Chinese pajama suit and a conical dunce cap (the parody of a mitre), the 5-foot tall Bishop was pushed forward to the microphone to confess. To the shock of the security police, they heard a righteous loud cry of "Long live Christ the King, long live the Pope" from the Bishop. The crowd responded immediately, "Long live Christ the King, long live Bishop Kung". For his defiant faith, Bishop Kung spent a total of thirty years in prison with long periods in isolation holding firmly to that very belief that Christ is King.

Though we continue to face opposition, persecution and hostility, wishing to silence our voices and destroy our faith, with Bishop Kung we persist in praying to Christ the King and His Blessed Mother: “we do not ask you for a miracle. We do not beg you to stop the persecutions. But we beg you to support us who are very weak."

So, let the crowds chant “No kings.” Let their slogans rise like smoke from a fire they cannot control. Let their fists shake at a heaven they pretend not to believe in. Kings and politicians may shake and tremble at their baying. But there is a throne that does not tremble. A crown that never dulls. A King who does not campaign for allegiance, nor bend to the will of the blood-thirsty mob. His robe carries the marks of His own blood. His hands bear wounds earned for traitors. His eyes see through the shouting into the ache beneath it. He is Jesus Christ. Crucified. Risen! Reigning! Victorious!

We do not serve an idea. We serve a King. A living King. A ruling King. A returning King. Every crown will fall. Every kingdom will fade. Every chant will break against the unshakable throne of Jesus Christ. And in the end, there will not be silence. There will be song. While the chants of the haters fill the streets, another sound rises from the rooms of our homes and the pews of our churches. Knees touch the floor. Heads bow low. Words rise like incense into the night, uttering with conviction: “My King. My Lord and my God!"

Christ is King!

Solemnity of Christ the King Year B

The declaration that “Christ is King” seems innocent enough for us Catholics, albeit somewhat hackneyed. But this has not been the case in America’s highly polarised political climate. On the one side you have people saying this is an affirmation of the Christian faith and a desire to not give in to secular culture. On the other side, you have people saying the phrase Christ is king is antisemitic, or expresses contempt for Jewish people, as the gospels seem to lay the blame on them for killing Jesus, although the actual executioner is Pontius Pilate as we had heard in today’s gospel. And in the weeks leading up to the highly contested presidential elections in the United States, the statement has been construed by those on the left as a pro-Trump dog whistle.

It is obvious that the title has political connotations. It is for this reason that the Jewish leaders brought our Lord before the Roman authorities on charges of treason. In the Empire, only Caesar was truly sovereign and all other client puppet rulers within his domain would have to seek his mandate before they could claim any title or authority. Since the Sanhedrin, the Jewish High Council, was unable to impose capital punishment under their religious blaspheme laws, getting the Romans to adjudicate the case and pass the death penalty was the only option. So, the “crime” of Jesus had to be elevated from a religious sin into a political high crime of treason.

When our Lord was given an opportunity by Pilate to refute the charges of claiming to be “king”, He in fact confirmed the title when the question was put to Him: “Are you the king of the Jews?” And after clarifying that His “kingdom is not of this world,” our Lord proceeds to unequivocally declare: “Yes, I am a king. I was born for this, I came into the world for this: to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on the side of truth listen to my voice.” For having affirmed the truth of His kingship instead of denying it, our Lord was condemned to die by crucifixion. He could have lied even when it was inconvenient and politically incorrect to state the truth. He could have protested that it was all a misunderstanding, but He didn’t.

So, for those who clutch their pearls whenever they hear this statement as an anti-Semitic and right-wing slogan, here are some salient truths which is bound to trigger you, rather than lower the temperature: The good news is that Jesus Christ is really king. But He’s also a Jew and in fact hailed as “King of Jews,” the very charge written on the titulus placed on the cross. So, it is an oxymoron to claim that an esteemed royal Jewish title given to a Jew would be anti-Semitic. In fact, this feast was inaugurated by Pope Pius XI as the Church’s challenge to the secularist fascist regimes which were not just anti-semites but also anti-Christian.

It is also important to remember that the “Jesus is King of the Jews” language would have been self-evidently a kind of joke, making fun of both Jesus and his fellow Jews under Roman occupation. The joke is that a king on the throne of David would not be drowning in his own blood, helplessly fixed to a Roman cross. To call him that would make a cruel point not just to any future insurrectionist but to the hopes of Jewish people generally—No one is coming to liberate us. Caesar is king and will remain king. Furthermore, the motives of Pilate’s soldiers in applying the “Christ is king” imagery was even clearer. The purple cloak and the crown of thorns were meant to be a parody—as the Roman soldiers sarcastically saluted Jesus, yelling, “Hail, king of the Jews!” (Mark 15:18). They mocked Jesus both for His alleged claim to kingship and for His Jewishness, both seen as being beneath the majesty of Roman power.

But Jesus is not making any claims to the Roman imperial throne. He has no desire to do so. Our Lord Jesus Christ is not a true and better Caesar. His kingship is something altogether different, in fact, it is not of this world. That’s because the kingdom of God is not a capstone of the aspirations and power games of this present order; it’s a repudiation of them.

If the kingdom of God were about external conformity, tribal membership, or “winning” in the sense that we define it, Jesus could have embraced all of that from the crowds around Him or would have trained His closest associates to become a more effective group of insurgents. The kingdom of God cannot be understood or articulated without seeing that the Crucifixion is not a plot obstacle on a hero’s journey. The way of the Cross is, in fact, the Way to victory and glory, while the way of Caesar leads to death and humiliation. The Cross is indeed our Lord’s true throne. Pope Pius XI taught that Christ the King “has dominion over all creatures, a dominion not seized by violence nor usurped, but His by essence and by nature.” The cross is not what robbed us of our king but in fact, gave us a king.

At a recently concluded Pax Liturgica Meeting in Rome, which went for the most part unnoticed because it was eclipsed by the hyped Synod on Synodality, Cardinal Gerhard Müller warned against bishops betraying their divine mission by relativising doctrine and failing to uphold the orthodox faith. "We must not give in to the following suggestion: If you want to reach people today and be loved by all, then, just like Pilate, leave the truth aside, then you will be spared persecution, suffering, the cross and death! Secularly speaking, the power of politics, media and banks is the safe side, while the truth defies contradiction, and promises suffering with Christ, the crucified Saviour of the world."

So, by declaring that Christ is King is not a triumphalist slogan weaponised against others but a humble acknowledgement that God comes first, above every political movement, above every economic option, above every ideological agenda, above every expression of our narcissistic world-view. To declare that Christ is King is not the symptom of a diseased mind but actually its antidote. To declare that Christ is King is not a refutation of the cross, but, the embrace of it!

Being redeemed in Christ is the antidote for toxic social dynamics. Rather than gaslighting, we have truth; in place of narcissism, there is humility; instead of manipulation, there is a guileless spirit; in place of helplessness and powerlessness, there is the armour of God; rather than oppression, there is deliverance; instead of exhaustion and exploitation, we are made new. So, let us not be abashed or ashamed of declaring with whole-hearted conviction: Christ is King!

The Myth of Pastoral Charity

Solemnity of Christ the King Year A

There has been heated discussion of late as to whether one could depart from settled doctrine and revealed truth in Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition by citing the all-encompassing tag phrase of modern times - pastoral charity. In other words, some would argue that the controversial moral issues of our times, including blessing same sex marriages and admitting women into holy orders, would be non-issues if we shift away from focusing on orthodoxy - right teaching - and start focusing more on orthopraxis - right practice based on pastoral charity. So, what exactly is pastoral charity? Can it be so powerful that it can justify the setting aside of truth in the name of kindness and solicitude? It is interesting that we can find our answer in today’s reading.

Let’s first examine the word “pastoral,” which comes from the Latin “pastor,” which means shepherd. The first reading gives us an excellent exposition of the work of the Shepherd King who is God. The Old Testament prophecy of Ezekiel that God will judge “between sheep and sheep, between rams and he-goats” is fulfilled in our Lord’s parable in the gospel. Although the element of judgment is found in both readings, Ezekiel’s prophecy broadens the scope of the shepherd king’s job:
He will keep all, and not just some, of his sheep in view;
He will rescue them whenever they have been scattered in mist and darkness;
He will pasture them and show them where to rest;
He will “look for the lost one, bring back the stray, bandage the wounded and make the weak strong;
He shall watch over the fat and healthy (I guess in our day and age, these two categories point to different categories at both ends of a spectrum);
Then the Lord makes this promise: “I shall be a true shepherd to them.”

When we examine the roles of the shepherd, we notice that it does not include making his sheep happy or contented in their delusion. In fact, the work of the shepherd is to challenge that very delusion and falsehood of their choices which will lead them astray in the first place. The Shepherd does not leave them to their own devices. He goes in search of them. He restores them to their home. He heals those who are wounded instead of allowing the wounds caused by sin to fester and threaten the life of the sheep. This is what it means to be “pastoral.” The shepherd is not just contented in making his sheep feel good. He challenges them so that they strive to be good, in fact, to be the best version of themselves.

How about the second word in this popular expression commonly used by many in these times - charity? For that, we must turn to the gospel. The parable of judgment in the gospel moves away from these images of the shepherd king and now seems to draw us into the narrative by ascribing to us the very responsibilities which the Shepherd King has promised to undertake. The Shepherd King is not abdicating His responsibility and authority but expecting us to act in imitation of Him. We must imitate Him in charity.

The description of the Last Judgment in the twenty-fifth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel would shock many people if they were to read it. The principles in accordance with which Christ will pronounce sentence are inescapably clear. Did you feed and clothe the poor for My sake, He will ask, because you recognised Me in them? If you have done so, you will certainly be saved. If you have neglected to do so, you will be condemned for all eternity. Christ does not ask about anything else, because everything else is subordinate to the precept of charity. Where there is charity, everything else follows. Where charity is lacking there is nothing else because Christianity is synonymous with charity. Charity, says St. Paul, “is the bond of perfection.” (Col. 3:14)

Our eternal salvation depends on our charity. But it must be charity in action, not merely in words. “He who has the goods of this world,” says St. John, “and sees his brother in need and closes his heart to him, how does the love of God abide in him?” (1st Epistle of St. John, 3:17) Charity must be expressed in almsgiving and good works, for otherwise it would be a matter of idle talk which would be powerless to save us.

Secondly, pastoral charity which ignores or, worse, contradicts God’s revealed truth is not charity, but pseudo-charity. Such abuse of one’s pastoral role would be the greatest affront to the queen of virtues. Kindness or tenderness have their place, but when they degenerate into confirming the faithful in the commission of mortally sinful acts become a cruel caricature of the love a pastor of the Church owes to sinners when they come to him.

Thirdly, our almsgiving should not be dictated simply by natural feelings of compassion, however, nor by mere philanthropy. It should be pre-eminently a religious act, springing from supernatural motives. Because we see the person of Christ in the poor man, we should love and help him as we should our Divine Redeemer, of Whose Mystical Body he is a suffering member. This is real Christian charity.

There is one act of charity which we can all perform, even if we are poor. We can pray for those who never pray, for hardened sinners, for heretics, for those who persecute the Church, for the Missions, for the sick and dying, and for the souls in Purgatory. And for the laity, it is of utmost importance to pray for your leaders – the Pope, our bishops and priests – that they may be “true shepherds” and not false ones who lead their flock astray.

On this feast, when we remember our youth, let us also be mindful of the Church which we wish to bequeath to them on behalf of Christ the King. In wanting the best for them and future generations of Catholics, let us not delude ourselves into thinking that we can “rebuild” the Church, because we may end up, in our hubris, remaking her in our image and likeness, a false bride, instead of the “spotless bride of the spotless Lamb” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 796). Let us never forget that it is Christ who makes the Church, who renews the Church and reforms the Church. We are in Christ grafted as a branch onto the vine, and Christ is in us, feeding, making, and renewing us. Our battle cry isn’t “Yes, we can. Yes, we can!” but “Christus vincit! Christus regnat! Christus imperat!” “Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands.” He alone shall be the true Shepherd to us all!

My Precious!

Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

A lot of parishioners often walk up to me and tell me that they really pity me. They think that I have lost a great deal and given up so much for the priesthood - a family, a career, comfort and money and all these must have come at a terrible loss to me. I don’t really know how to tell them that I haven’t really given up that much. In fact, I don’t feel the loss at all. It would be so, if these things were really considered valuable to me, but they no longer do. In fact, for me the priesthood is a GAIN, not a LOSS!

It is ironic that the pitiable character of the creature known as Gollum in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings should provide us a lesson of valuing something. Upon the discovery of the One Ring which rules the rings of power, this creature descends into a world of darkness, forsaking friend and kin, enduring banishment and torture, risking death and even the damnation of his soul, and goes through great lengths to recover the one thing which he describes as his “Precious.” What he was willing to endure shows how much he truly values this object.

The parables today raise a similar question: what do we value most in life? How would we really know if something or someone is valuable to us? The real litmus test is not how loud or persistent we say that something is of value to us but what are we prepared to sacrifice for it.

The parables set out this basic principle to determine the value of a thing desired: what are we willing to sacrifice? What is the cost that we are willing to pay? Both tales indicate that the kingdom is of such inestimable value that those who understand this truth will do whatever it takes to possess it.

In the first parable, the man finds a treasure in a field; in the second, the man seeks the valuable pearl. Both parables make a similar point about the Kingdom of heaven – this is the greatest treasure. Receiving it brings joy to the finder, but also calls for the valuing of this treasure above all others. The order is the same in both parables - joy over receiving the Gospel, and then the willingness to sell all their possessions. Their sacrifice was not out of obligation or done grudgingly, but one made out of joy! Our joy in the Lord and our estimation of His incomparable value in our lives produce the willingness to give everything we have to God--our talents, time, and resources. This joy in finding the greatest treasure, Jesus, results in a radical life change, the kind of change that causes us to reorientate our lives, reevaluate our priorities and render all previous attachments dispensable and disposable.

The two parables though conveying a similar message, express two different experiences - two ways where the protagonist comes upon their treasures. In the first parable, the hidden treasure is found by chance, it seems, without the man intentionally looking for it. In the surprise of it all, the accent falls on his shocking and happy response: from his joy he goes and sells all he has, to buy the field. Joy flooded his heart as he stumbled on such value.

In the second parable, the merchant is looking. He is searching high and low, near and far. Being a merchant and connoisseur of pearls, he knows their value. And this merchant is not just seeking pearls but “fine pearls” — beautiful pearls, precious pearls. His palate is refined. He has a keen eye. The merchant’s life has been bound up with pursuing the most precious of earthly objects. Now, he comes across one singular pearl of such beauty, of such great value, one pearl so precious, he goes and sells all he has just to have it. The emphasis is not on his accidental find but on the over-the-top fulfillment of an intentional search.

Together the short parables contribute to one picture, seen in the obvious repetition: the man sells all he has to obtain the newfound treasure. However accidental or intentional the search, the man has come upon something of such value that he is eager (“from his joy”) to count all else loss in view of the surpassing value of the treasure — of the exceeding preciousness of the treasure and pearl.

The apostle St Paul expresses the very same thing in his letter to the Philippians 3:7-8, “Whatever gain I had, I counted as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.” St Paul suffers the loss of all things that he may gain Christ. Both the Gospel and Paul’s words express the very same reality and truth: if you profess that something is most precious to you, no cost is too big or price too high or sacrifice too great, in order for you to attain it or keep it. The treasure far outstrips the cost that we gladly say, “gain!” This is why the whole army of martyrs and saints can declare with St Paul, “For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ.”

One last caveat must be made about the message of these parables. The point here is not that you buy the kingdom or barter for the kingdom or negotiate for the kingdom. The kingdom of God is received without pay, like a poor child, not a rich businessman. It is given to the undeserving, to those who have not earned it or will ever be able to pay for it. So the point here is that you can never buy it. You get it freely because you want it more than you want anything else. In other words, there is a condition for having the kingdom—for having the King on your side and as your friend—but the condition is not wealth or power or intelligence or eminence. The condition is that you prize the Kingdom more than you prize anything else. The point of selling everything in this parable is simply to show where your heart is.

So, the point of these two parables is that the Kingdom of God is so valuable that losing everything on earth, but getting the Kingdom, is a happy trade-off. Losing everything is no real loss, because the Kingdom is by far the greatest gain. The loss of all things is not sad if we gain Christ. Do you truly value Him in your heart? If so, what are you prepared to sacrifice and endure for Him? Remember this: finding our Lord as your one Precious, will not poison and shrink your soul, unlike what the Ring did to Gollum. Rather, Christ is the antidote to what ails us, the catalyst to expand our small hearts, the surprising remedy we’ve long been seeking. In casting off all other attachments in our lives we will not be impoverished. Rather, we will be immensely and undeniably enriched. “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”

Blessed is He who comes

Palm Sunday

Knowing our need to see and to touch, the Church offers our senses a veritable feast during Holy Week. And who doesn’t love a free door gift, right? Catholics are no different. Today, we get to collect and hold our palms at the start of this Mass as we welcome the King of Kings. The palms, explains the liturgist Fr Pius Parsch, are “symbols of our loyalty to Him and of our willingness to do Him homage.” Thursday, we will witness the priest wash the feet of members of the congregation. Friday is when we march to the front to express our reverence and devotion to the wood of the cross, on which hung the salvation of the world. And on Saturday, we will hold candles as we welcome the Light of the World into our midst, into our world darkened by sin and death, now vanquished by our Risen Lord.

For many, these precious sacramentals were painfully denied to us and we had to be contented with the virtual experience of following these liturgical celebrations online. We could see but not touch. We could hear but not feel. These past few years had not just disrupted our routines but they had also been an assault to our sense of humanity. Seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and feeling is part of what makes us human.

But this year, we are back with a vengeance. We have been beaten, bruised, starved, masked, vaccinated, sanitised and deprived, but not defeated. Like the palms we hold, symbols of a martyr’s victory over death, we have survived. Like a Phoenix which rises anew from the ashes of its destruction, we Catholics have been reborn. Our victory is in Christ who faced death without flinching and even embraced it in a wrestle to the end and emerged victorious.

Today, at the start of Holy Week, the liturgy already provides us with a teaser of the ending. Yes, we have heard how our Lord would suffer in the long passion reading according to St Matthew, but we are also given a glimpse of how His passion is also a triumphant procession to victory: “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Hosanna is the cry of the people to God to “save us” and our Lord Jesus Christ is the answer to their pleas because His name, Jesus, means God saves!

The procession we witnessed at the start of today’s liturgy commemorates the procession our Lord undertook when He entered Jerusalem to fulfil His mission. It was one of the few times in His life that our Lord accepted public honours. He only did so on His own terms, upsetting all our expectations of what we think a king should be. The palms which the citizens of Jerusalem held have also taken on a new meaning because of Christ. They are now symbols of martyrdom, a Christian’s true glory and honour. Our Lord received gold, the symbol of kingly power, only as a helpless infant. Now, as a man who has manifested unimaginable power, He chooses the meekness prophesied by Zechariah, repeated in today’s Mass: “Tell the daughter of Sion, Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on an ass, and on a colt, the foal of an ass” (Matthew 21:5) “He is the king of peace,” writes the late Pope Benedict XVI, “and by God’s power, not His own.”

In just a few days, the lauds will turn to sneers: “We have no king but Caesar!” A distressed Pilate puts the question to Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “My kingdom is not of this world,” He replies. He is Lord not just of a particular people, nor even of “this world.” He transcends all that this world has to offer. He is Truth itself, the very foundation upon which the world rests. “For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.” (John 18:37)

Those who reject the truth send Him to the Cross, the most ironic of thrones for the king to mount. Near the end of today’s passion reading, we hear the chief priests and scribes mock and ridicule Him: “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the king of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He puts his trust in God; now let God rescue him if he wants him. For he did say, ‘I am the son of God.’” Even in mockery, unwittingly they state a truth which underlies this entire story - Jesus is no mere king of the Jews, feted by people and hailed to be their political liberator. He is so much more. He is “the son of God.” Today, we cry with the people of Jerusalem as we do at every Mass, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” He who has come to save us, has come to die for us and in dying for us, He has come to feed us with His Body and Blood in the Eucharist! Divine Food that is real, not just virtual. So we sing, “Hosanna in the highest.”

Christ is to be at the centre

Solemnity of Christ the King Year C

This year we witnessed the death of Queen Elizabeth II, whom many hailed as the last truly Christian monarch of the world, as many other nominally Christian monarchs had long abdicated their responsibilities as defenders of the Christian faith over the decades. In the midst of all the pomp and pageantry of the State funeral that stretched over a period of 10 days, there were two main reactions to the proceedings. Some could say that the comments, especially those coming from critics, were painstakingly predictable, as if being read off a script.

For the left leaning socialists and communists, this was another obscene and vulgar display of royal excesses and ostentation - a symbol of a dying empire and egregious colonial past, an unnecessary glorification of a non elected leader, which proved to be mortal like the rest of the hoi poloi, an imposition of Western culture (in the form of Christianity) over a more pluralistic world. But for many Christians (Catholics included), the rituals and ceremonies of the funeral of a Protestant monarch filled with medieval symbolism placed one thing in the forefront. God. As the symbols of authority and sovereignty were stripped away from the bier of the queen and as the cameras focused on these objects, we were reminded of this perennial truth - “all things passes, only God remains”.

Today’s feast is meant to have the same effect on us. It places Christ in the forefront. Today, we are asked not to place our attention nor focus on this past year’s accomplishments or even failures, and neither should we admire our trophies or scars, but our eyes should be fixed on the solitary but regal figure hanging on the cross. Condemned as a criminal for a crime He did not commit, a sentence which He could have avoided but didn’t, the King of the Universe performs His last act of kingship - He pardons a criminal and grants this man the reward and honour of paradise.

And it is interesting that when the first World Youth Day was instituted by Pope St John Paul II, he too had this intention in mind. Christ is to be at its centre, to be in the forefront. For many who have witnessed the almost Woodstock-like atmosphere of WYD celebrations, this attention seems odd. But to the young people, with “their questions, their openness, and their hopes,” the Church, the saintly pope said, must communicate “the certainty who is Christ, the Truth who is Christ, the love who is Christ.” This is the reason why Pope Francis announced last year that he was moving the celebration of World Youth Day to this feast of Christ the King: “The centre of the celebration remains the Mystery of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of Man, as Saint John Paul II, the initiator and patron of WYD, always emphasised.”

Let’s go back to the origins of today’s feast to understand its focus. By liturgical standards, today’s feast is relatively recent. It was only inaugurated at the end of 1925, the Jubilee Year which commemorated the anniversary of the First Ecumenical Council in Nicaea in 325 AD. The first ecumenical council defended the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy which sought to dilute it. Now, on its anniversary, there were new issues which sought to dilute the centrality of Christ and His divinity.

At the turn of the twentieth century, the forces of secularism and humanism were advancing while that of the Church retreating. World War 1, described as the Great War or the War to end all wars, had left a devastating trail in Europe and beyond its shores. Pessimism, a sense of helplessness compounded by hatred among the nations, was overwhelming. The time was ripe for the rise of tyrants, and rise they did. Many considered the basics of morality and the teachings of the Church to be out of date, no longer relevant to modern society. Modern thinking allowed that, at most, Christ might be king in the private life of the individual, but certainly not in the public world. Some political regimes advocated the banishment of Jesus altogether, not only from society, but from the family as well.

In all these developments, Pope Pius XI saw that people were denying Christ in favour of a lifestyle dominated by secularism, material advantage and false hope created by the tyrants. Throughout the Jubilee Year of 1925, Pope Pius constantly emphasised the kingship of Christ as declared in the Creed: “His kingdom will have no end.” And so, on Dec. 11 of the jubilee year, as the Jubilee Year drew to a close, and in order to acknowledge perpetually the supremacy of Jesus Christ over all men, nations and earthly allegiances, the pope issued the encyclical Quas Primas, which added the feast of “Our Lord Jesus Christ the King” to the annual Church liturgical calendar.

A century later, this feast continues to speak loudly to our generation. We continue to be plagued by political leaders who wish to arrogate the power of God to themselves, to rewrite the moral rules of what is right or wrong, to take human life as if they were its creator, to dictate rules that would violate the conscience of every man and woman. The Solemnity of Christ the King holds out against these forces and seeks to remind mankind of what true power entails and where true power is to be found.

Pope Emeritus Benedict explains that the power of Christ, who has the cross as His throne and a circle of thorns as His crown, is to be seen in the light of what He has done for us through His sacrifice. The King shows us the true face of power through the powerlessness of the cross. Pope Benedict writes, this power “is not the power of the kings or the great people of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to liberate from evil, to defeat the dominion of death. It is the power of Love that can draw good from evil, that can melt a hardened heart, bring peace amid the harshest conflict and kindle hope in the thickest darkness. This Kingdom of Grace is never imposed and always respects our freedom.”

My dear young people, as the Universal Church celebrates the faith that has been passed on down to you. Know this that as the world lures you with so many attractions which seek to gain your allegiance, there is only One whom you should rightly call Lord and Master. Only One whom you will not surrender your freedom but in which you can gain true freedom. Only One that shows that true power lies in the power of love - in giving, you receive; in dying to yourself you will gain eternal life; in losing all you will gain the greatest treasure of all. Only One who does not only speak Truth but is the truth while others can only offer opinions and lies. Only He alone must be at the front and centre of every decision of yours. Turn to Him and repeat the words of the good thief on the cross: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And we can be sure that His promise will one day be yours too: “today you will be with me in paradise.”

The Hour of Glory

Good Friday 2022

From the beginning of the Gospel, our Lord’s earthly life has been moving toward this moment, His “hour”: the divinely appointed time when He will pre-eminently reveal the Father’s love and accomplish His work of salvation, and the Father will reveal the Son in His glory. Every teaching or discourse of His, every “I am” statement which He has made, every sign-miracle which He has done, will find its ultimate meaning in what our Lord does today. Our Lenten preparation has been anticipating this “hour” too and today, it has finally arrived.

The “hour” of our Lord’s passion is the great showdown between light and darkness, death and life, God and Satan. It is for this reason the Passion begins with the only mention that the cohort and the guards that came to arrest Jesus were carrying “lanterns and torches” apart from weapons. John the Evangelist, artfully uses this detail in spinning a tale of irony. The darkness does not always seem dark. Satan is far more subtle. He produces counterfeit light in contrast to the true Light of the World, which is Jesus. That is why this scene takes place in the cover of night. Our Lord Himself and His motley band of disciples have no need for artificial lighting or torches because He is the Light of the World. The enemies of our Lord, on the other hand, have to carry “lanterns and torches” because they have no light of their own.

John’s Passion Narrative, while in many ways similar to the Synoptic accounts, has several theological emphases.

First, the kingship of Jesus is prominent. This is what He announced to Pilate: “I am a king. I was born for this, I came into the world for this: to bear witness to the truth; and all who are on the side of truth listen to my voice.” But, His is “not a kingdom of this world.” Yes, Jesus is the sovereign Lord, who is in complete control over the events of His Passion, since “the Father had put everything into His power” (John 13:3). Because He is in full control, the events of His Passion happen only because He allows them to happen. In answer to Pilate’s claim that he has the power to release Him or crucify Him, our Lord responds: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given you from above” (John 19:11).

Second, the emphasis on our Lord’s kingly sovereignty and power, underscores the freedom with which He goes to the cross. Our Lord was not caught by surprise by the arresting party but as the Evangelist tells us, “knowing everything that was going to happen to him” (John 18:4), He willingly submitted to His Passion. Our Lord had earlier said, “No one takes my life from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again” (John 10:18). By freely going to the cross, our Lord offers His life as a perfect gift of love, given to the Father for the world’s salvation. Love is never accidental or forced. Our Lord is the unblemished Victim, the perfect sin Holocaust, who doesn’t play victim. That’s the irony of His victimhood. In today’s culture, where so many like to play victim to solicit pity and sympathy whilst being unwilling to make sacrifices for others, our Lord’s example is truly counter-cultural. He shows us what true sacrifice means.

Third, by freely laying down His life in obedience to the Father, our Lord reveals the infinite depths of the Father’s love and mercy toward sinners. Love is not just defined by passionate feelings or nice platitudes. Love is costly but not in the way that most of us would understand. Most people show the depth of their love in the form of expensive gifts. God shows His love by sacrificing the life of His only Son, a sacrifice which the Son makes freely because of His love for the Father.

Perceiving the revelation of divine love in the cross where our Lord Jesus died, requires faith, and John invites us to view the Passion with the eyes of faith through his use of irony. On the spiritual level, the situation is exactly the opposite of what it is on the natural level. On the surface our Lord’s death on the cross seems to be defeat and humiliation, but in fact, it is God’s victory and triumph. Through the cross, God takes on and overcomes sin and death with His infinitely greater merciful love.

Here then, is the paradox of faith. Christ, as He dies, brings life to us, who are already dead. Sin has placed a death sentence over our heads. But as the world watches the apparent defeat of Christ, we are actually seeing a greater victory. The very thing that carries the stench of death, our Lord’s crucifixion, is the source of new life. As Christ dies, our sins are lifted from us. Our separation from God is removed forever. Our failures are replaced by His victory. Our weakness is replaced by His strength. Our dead lives are reborn and given new life again, through His dying. But remember that “our victory,” is never ours to boast about, it is His victory given to us. We have failed but He has not. We are weak but He is strong. We have often been overcome by evil; He has not. This is the reason why we must pause here on Good Friday and stand beneath that Cross. This is the “hour” where all will be revealed!” It is here that we must make our final stand!

To know that He is Lord

Solemnity of Christ the King 2021

As we come to the end of a second year of this pandemic, two years marked by lockdowns, social-economic upheaval, rising unemployment, businesses closed, disruption of our sacramental lives and all our plans, deaths of friends and loved ones, we look back and come to realise how fragile our lives have really been. These disruptions have cascaded in ways that seem novel and imaginatively overwhelming. All of a sudden, we see before us something we have perhaps talked about before, but never really faced personally. Suddenly we must “stay home,” keep a safe distance from others, turn to ourselves. And we are, surprisingly, afraid!

One reason why this has been a major crisis in so many lives is because we have been living in a bubble, believing that everything is under our control. Both medical and technological advancements have given us a false sense of security - we are enveloped by a delusional sense of impregnability and immortality. We are so cut off from our past that we have forgotten that our experience is not unique. Many in previous generations took for granted—in ways that are unthinkable to us—that life was not predictable, diseases, the inability to travel, death at an early age or in infancy—were a part of life. We have largely forgotten this until this pandemic hit us with a harsh reality check.

Many believe that this crisis has shaken our faith in God because it has disturbed our assumptions about God’s benign supervision and His ability to control suffering. But I choose to see it differently. I believe that it is this false faith we have in ourselves and in the infallibility of science which has been shaken. If this crisis has done anything, it has drawn us back to acknowledge once again, the utmost sovereignty of God over the universe. He alone is God, not man.

COVID-19 calls us to learn again from our forbearers, who looked to Scripture’s descriptions of God’s agency in times of disaster as a compass for their own times. Modern man only attempts to demythologise these stories and provide them with a plausible rational explanation devoid of God’s agency. One obvious place to turn, is to the story of the plagues visited upon Pharaoh and Egypt, at the time of the Hebrews’ deliverance from slavery. One can note a key difference between Moses and Pharaoh. Moses recognises God in extraordinary events. Pharaoh does not. Despite experiencing one remarkable plague after another, Pharaoh refuses to believe. His failure to do so because he thought of himself as the true ruler, the true king of his empire. God describes the purpose of the ten plagues clearly: they are not punishment. They are an invitation to know God: “The Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord, when I stretch out my hand against Egypt and bring the Israelites out from among them” (Exodus 9:15-16).

Likewise, this pandemic has also provided us with an opportunity to know and acknowledge the sovereignty of God. Though, it often doesn’t feel this way, this pandemic has been a reminder that we are first and foremost recipients—and not the creators—of all that is good in our lives. We are not in control and there is some sense of relief in knowing that. Could you imagine the total mess we are capable of making if we were really in-charge of the universe and all that happens therein? Many dictators have attempted to assert this, only to leave millions of people dead and a trail of destruction in their path, in seeking to create a utopia of their own design. As we work for the Kingdom, we are not building a utopia here on earth. Our duty is not to bring the Kingdom into existence, nor is the Kingdom something we build ourselves. The Kingdom is brought and built by the King – our duty is to serve the King.

Who is that King that we serve? I believe you know the answer. Our Lord Jesus Christ is our King and yet, He tells Pontius Pilate in today’s gospel: “Mine is not a kingdom of this world.” Why is our Lord’s Kingdom different?  Our Lord is not just highlighting the difference between His kingship and that of worldly models, but also suggesting that His kingship will appear differently in this world and in the age to come.

We must distinguish between the Kingdom of Christ on this earth and that which He exercises in eternity. In Heaven, His reign is one of glory and sovereignty. Here, in time, it is mysterious, humble and hidden. Although appearances may seem misleading, Jesus, is in fact, the Supreme Lord of every single thing in the universe, including the sub microscopic virus. This is what the Second Vatican Council declared, “here on earth the kingdom is mysteriously present; when the Lord comes, it will enter into its perfection” (Gaudium et Spes 39). This is what He meant when He said that His Kingdom is not of this world.

Times like this remind us that we are still fragile mortals living in a fallen world, under the ancient curse upon creation and that the Kingdom of God in its fullness is still the future. When the city of Rome burned from foreign invasion in 410 AD, St Augustine penned the City of God from his diocese in North Africa to assure that, while earthly hopes are being shaken and shattered, the eternal promises of God's Kingdom for the future, remain certain.

Times like this are also opportunities for the Church on earth to show what she truly believes, by exhibiting an unshakable faith and hope in her Sovereign King, while continuing to do good in love toward one another. In dark times, especially, be on the lookout and watch for extraordinary rays of light, faith, hope, and love. We might not all be called to the frontlines of caring for the sick, but there are other ways we can show loving concern and compassion toward others during this time of crisis, and certainly, our response through this disruption will reflect where we place our hopes, and the strength of our faith, before a watching world. The Church will come through this, as it has in times past, though not without scars, but then that too was how our Lord appeared to His disciples after His resurrection – scars, wounds and all. Likewise, the scars of the Church are not proof of her defeat, but evidence of her Divine Spouse’s victory over sin and death.

A King to obey, A God to adore, A Saviour to die

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

A week ago I posted a picture of our magnificent crèche in Jesus Caritas on Facebook. The meticulously detailed work of art done by our youth immediately attracted fawning admirers and many ‘Likes’. Someone noted in one close-up picture of the main characters, that the Magi had arrived too early. It wasn’t Epiphany yet, but already one of the three “kings” was strategically placed at the foot of the manger offering his gift of gold. Although, there may be issues of scriptural accuracy, I thought that our infant King, the Christ-Child would do well this year to have some early visitors since He has been deprived of His fan club this year since public Masses had been suspended for Christmas.

But the question of the appearance of these Magi coming too early in the story is moot today. Today, they appear in our gospel reading. But this is not their first appearance. In the first reading, in the prophecy of Isaiah, we see a teaser, a sort of prophetic trailer to this event of the Epiphany.

Isaiah predicted that at a time of darkness, the glory of the Lord will shine over Jerusalem. The heavenly light will be a beacon to the pagan nations and even to their kings. The prophecy of Isaiah may be one of the reasons why these Magi are often associated with kings. Despite the regular chastisement on the accuracy of this tradition from the pulpit (that there were an indeterminate number of wise men recorded in the gospel instead of the popular three kings), this has little effect on popular culture such as carols and Christmas pageant plays where children compete to be dressed in the splendorous costumes of these royal figures. As for the number of Magi which traditionally is set at three, no mention of their numbers can be found in St Matthew’s story. The three gifts which they bear may be the reason for concluding that there were three wise men or kings who visited the Christ-child.

Now that we’ve uncovered a possible reason for identifying the Magi with the three kings, it would be good to see the difference between Isaiah’s prophecy and the actual fulfilment of that prophecy in the visit of the Magi. It has to do with the number of gifts. On the matter of gifts, I often recall the gifts that were brought by the fairies to the christening of Sleeping Beauty. Each gift was a blessing save the penultimate one - the wicked and vengeful fairy who was not invited to the party, conferred on the child the gift of death. The last fairy, though she could not undo this curse entirely, blunted it by transforming the curse of death into a long sleep that could only be awakened with a prince’s kiss. Doesn’t that sound like the work of Christ in blunting the death blow through the gift of the resurrection?

I digress. Let’s come back to our story of the gifts in the readings. Isaiah only mentions two - gold and incense - but St Matthew mentions three - gold, frankincense (which is a type of incense) and myrrh. The omission of the third gift in Isaiah’s prophecy and its inclusion in St Matthew’s list, is telling. It serves as a clue and shows that a particular aspect was missing from the Jewish expectation of the Messiah based on the Old Testament but was made clearer in the revelation of the New Testament. And the third gift is crucial to our story.

The three gifts have often been described as symbols - gold for a king and incense for a deity. This child is indeed a King but more than a king, He is God Incarnate, thus deserving not just our adulation but also our adoration. But what about the myrrh, which is mentioned in the gospel but omitted in Isaiah’s prophecy –where does that come from and what does it mean?

Myrrh, an aromatic resin, was used in preparing the dead for burial. It was used to anoint corpses to mask the stench and also served to preserve the body from immediate decay. There we have it - the missing link that completes the prophecy of the future fate of this child. Gold reveals that the babe in the manger is actually a king; frankincense tells us that He is God Incarnate; but myrrh reveals to us that this King, who is in fact our God, has come to die.

That someone would redeem God’s people through suffering and death was never part of the Jewish expectation of their Messiah. They failed to make a connexion between their expectation of a triumphant and glorious Messiah, with the Suffering Servant spoken of by Isaiah a few chapters earlier (Isaiah 53). This was the really hard thing for those living in Jesus’ time to comprehend –that the same person who fulfilled all those prophecies about a glorious new king, also fulfilled the prophecies about a mysterious figure in Isaiah’s prophecy who must suffer at the hands of His tormentors and enemies.

It would be good if we just stuck to the first two gifts. Many would have little to no objections to accept this child as their king. It may be far more difficult to acknowledge His divine nature but we can still work that into our formulae. But perhaps the most challenging aspect of this revelation is that this King, our deathless God, should choose to die. All three gifts of the Magi, however, are necessary to complete the true revelation, the true epiphany of who this child is, and what He is destined to do. We must never lose sight of this; that He is at once our King, our God, and Saviour who dies for us, for if any one of these aspects of His identity is omitted, He ceases to be who He truly is, He will not be the Saviour that we would need.

So, here as we had just heard from the Proclamation of the date of Easter and Moveable Feasts, distant rumblings of the Paschal event: the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord. Here in the gifts presented by the Magi, especially in the last gift, we see the inseparable link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.

Tradition gives us the names of the Magi -Caspar, Balthasar, Melchior. But the fact that Matthew gives them no names is telling. They may be kings, but in this story they are merely supporting actors. They follow the true Star, the King of Kings. Only His name is important. The Feast of the Epiphany is not about the Magi–it’s all about Jesus. And just like the Bethlehem star, their very presence and gifts reveal to us who this Child is - He is our King whom we must obey and serve, He is Our Lord and God whom we must worship and finally, He is our Saviour who will die for us in expiation of our sins.

Venite Adoremus - Come let us adore Him.

The King who comes in Humility and Silence

Palm Sunday

Public opinion is a fragile thing, especially for politicians. In a world, where polls often seem to take the place of prophets, the final outcome still remains an open question. You may be leading in the polls, but that doesn’t mean that you would get the most votes when the actual ballots are counted. Likewise, the underdogs should not throw in the towel too prematurely. Who knows? They may emerge as the unsuspected victor.

This is what happened during the first Holy Week. A descendent of David enters the city of Jerusalem and is hailed as king by the crowds but at the end of the week, he is condemned a criminal. At the beginning of the week, he is considered the best candidate, but as the week progresses, as public opinion wanes, he is regarded as the worst. This is reflected in the triumphant tone at the start of our liturgy which slowly evolves into a bitter story of betrayal and rejection. As far as public opinion is concerned, it had turned against this man. It is true that public opinion is a dangerous beast to try and ride, not even kings are safe from its force.

The transition in today’s liturgy reflects these two moments in the “political career” of Jesus. We heard in the gospel reading at the beginning of this liturgy, how the crowds came out to welcome Jesus greeting Him as the Son of David. They gave Him the Messianic title and acclaimed Him as the royal Son of God. Saint Matthew quotes from the prophet Zechariah who in a series of prophecies, tells of the coming of the last king who will be a true prince of peace. He was writing against the memory of failed kings whose inadequacies and vanity had brought about the end of the kingdom of Judah. Zechariah tells the returned exiles from Babylon that the true king will come not as a tyrant robed in power and might, but gentle and humble and riding on a donkey. They had seen enough of powerful rulers in the pagan kings. In other words, he would not seem like a king at all. His coming was to be so discreet that it would be possible to miss it altogether. No pomp and pageantry. This king would be characterised by humility and silence.

Saint Paul reminds us that “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 on a cross.” He could have chosen to descend on the city of Jerusalem arrayed in His divine glory, surrounded by angelic courtiers, but instead, in His humility He chose to be “born of a woman.”(Gal 4:4) In His humility, He shows and manifests His own need for the Father, for the help of others, and for created things. The Creator of all things, who is complete and wholly sufficient, affirms His need for a steed, to ride on His journey into Jerusalem, “The Lord has need...” The King of glory chose to communicate His need for a room to keep the Passover with His disciples. The One who is all knowing, chose to allow one of His own intimate disciples to betray Him. The all-powerful One did not pretend or hide His sadness and distress from His disciples at the Agony in the Garden of Gethsemane. He who had the ready command of twelve legions of angels asked for the company of frail men, “My soul is sorrowful to the point of death. Wait here and keep awake with me.”

As Holy Week progresses the contrast between the imperial liturgy that surrounded Caesar, the earthly Lord of the World, and Jesus, the Incarnate Word through whom all things were made, becomes more marked. He is dressed in the parody of the imperial purple. He wears the thorny crown as a mock diadem. He bears the reed as the fake scepter. Pilate presents Him to the crowds for their acclamation and finally He is enthroned on the cross. As his soldiers on a shield raised the emperor at his accession, so Christ is raised on the lofty eminence of the cross. Instead of the crowd of admiring courtiers shouting acclamations of praise, a motely group of frightened and insecure clerics, ruffians and disappointed idealists, shout insults at the foot of the cross. The drama of Holy Week is an exercise in pantomime. The true prince, whom nobody can really see, is present all of the time and his true identity is revealed in the last scene of the drama. The true Kingship of Christ is not revealed during His triumphant entry into Jerusalem with all its fanfare. No, His true Kingship is revealed on the wood of the cross where He willingly hangs in place of the shame and humiliation brought on by our sinfulness.

Earthly powers attempt to emphasise their might and dignity through inflicting ridicule and humiliation on those who oppose them, little do they realise that the joke is on them. It is their pretensions to supremacy that are being held up as vain and empty. Christ, the Lord of Glory, in His humility, questions the foundations on which all earthly power is founded. At the end of the crucifixion scene in Saint Matthew’s Passion, the Centurion ironically declares “in truth this was the Son of God.” The representative of Caesar, standing beneath the throne of the cross acclaims the true king whose identity is now clear for all to see. Christ who submits to the yoke of the cross holds out His arms and says ‘come to me all you who labour and are heavily burdened and I will give you rest.’ ‘I am gentle and lowly of heart and you will find rest for your souls.’

Jesus Christ remains a central figure of interest for modern man. There isn’t much argument about whether He actually was a historical person, but nearly everything else about His life generates enormous, and sometimes rancorous, debate. Some love Him, others hate Him, some revere Him, others feel ambivalent about Him. Public opinion will always be divided. But our Christian faith is not built on public opinion. Even though we may be constantly under pressure to conform to the standards of the world, Christians should not allow mainstream public opinion, the standards of society, to dictate our conduct or decisions. Our faith is built on the conviction that He is indeed the long-awaited king, the Saviour of the World, “the stone rejected which has become the corner stone.” Things that the world considers foolish, weak, and ignoble, God views as wise, powerful, and honourable. (1 Cor. 1:25-28)

We Malaysians have suffered a double blow. In the face of a growing frightening pandemic unleashed upon an unsuspecting world, we saw a transition in our government through a “back door.” Within a week, we witnessed changing political alliances that seemed to move faster than the speed of light. The way the present government is dealing with the medical crisis and the implementation of the lockdown order have also seen shifting public opinion. One day we think they are doing a good job. Another day, we blame them for all and sundry. How will this all end? We have to admit in all honesty that we do not know. The outcome of this political upheaval is as uncertain as the course this pandemic will take in the coming weeks and perhaps even months.

Though I cannot give you a prediction about our political future or how this pandemic will turn out, I can confidently tell you how the story of Holy Week will end for Jesus. We don’t need political pundits or scientists to tell us how the story will end. We know how the story ends – His supporters will abandon Him, one will betray Him, His enemies will kill Him. But that’s not the real end of the story. His campaign will not end in defeat but in astounding victory. And if we have remained steadfast and faithful to Him, His victory will be ours too!