He will raise up the lowly

Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

In most action movies, from Avengers Endgame to X-Men Apocalypse where Jean Grey unleashes the full extent of her godlike powers, there is a common use of a storytelling tool known as Deus ex Machina, which literally meant, the god from the machine. In Greek theatre, actors who play gods would be introduced to the stage and play by either being lowered from a crane like device or raised from a hidden platform below the stage, making a sudden, almost miraculous, appearance. The introduction of this figure is intended to turn the tide and change the inevitable outcome of the story line. A seemingly unsolvable problem in a story is suddenly or abruptly resolved by an unexpected and unlikely occurrence. This functions to resolve an otherwise irresolvable plot situation, to surprise the audience, to bring the tale to a happy ending. Some have accused this as a form of lazy storytelling, but for us Christians, the story of salvation in Scripture is precisely all about how God intervenes at the very last moment to transform the outcome from an otherwise certain defeat to undisputable victory.

The first reading taken from the last book of the Bible repeats this theme that undergirds every significant turning point in the bible. Just when all seemed lost and evil seemed to have triumphed over good without any chance of a “remontada”, God enters the scene and amazingly rewrites the final outcome of the story. The woman in labour, in her most vulnerable moment, is rescued from the clutches of the towering gargantuan planet swallowing dragon. The enemies of the people of God would cry foul and even accuse God of cheating, but the truth is that our sovereign all-powerful, all-knowing and all-Merciful God has already willed this ending right from the start. Don’t take my word for it. Just read Genesis 3: “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and hers; He will crush your head, and you will strike his heel.” Both the conflict and the ending have both been written. We often believe that any good player would keep his deck of cards to himself without revealing his trump card. But God has made no secret of His plans. He has revealed this through history and through the prophets. It is just us mortal who often doubt that He has the winning hand, often trusting in our own senses and resources rather than in His mighty power.

In the gospel, we have Mary singing her beautiful song of praise where she redirects all praise to God, famously stating that God “has looked upon His lowly handmaid.” In the Magnificat, she redirects all glory to God, acknowledging her "lowly" state while magnifying His power. By recognising that her greatness stems entirely from God's grace, she models for all of us a perfect, faithful surrender. Her song is an ode to the theme of Deus ex Machina - She sings of a total reversal of how we would expect the story to end if history was allowed to just run its natural course, but instead we have a God who scatters the proud and exalts the humble, filling the hungry while bringing down the mighty. Just like a writer bringing in a powerful outside force to save a story, God intervened in human history through Mary. It is a song about God stepping into human affairs to radically change the world's order and the tale of its ending.

For those who have grown used to seeing the world as it is instead of seeing it as should be, to those of us whose eyes have not been adjusted, the light which Mary’s song casts is blinding and disorienting. It moves the earth under our feet, it causes us to stumble from our prideful heights. Our eyes are still fixed on the way of power, success, wealth, and brutal self-exertion and self-magnification. Our feet are still planted on the sand of our own glory. But Mary’s little way sees clearly in this dawn of light, and deftly turns our attention heavenward. We look up not because we can’t imagine ourselves taking our eyes off her but we are looking in the direction which she is pointing us to. Think of her person, her humble existence, her glorious assumption, as a sign pointing to our final destination which is God. That even in death, at the end of our earthly pilgrimage which feels like a cul de sac, death is not a dead end but a radical transformation of life, as the priest prays during Masses for the dead, that at death “life is changed, not ended.”

But we get to witness this wondrous mystery even now. We don’t have to wait till we are dead before we get to see the wonder of how God intervenes in our lives. Think of the world in a story as being trapped in a hopeless, unsolvable situation. This "unsolvable problem" is human sin and death. Every one of your stories holds scars. Every life collects chapters we wish we could erase — moments when shame screamed louder than faith, when we questioned our worth, or when the future felt permanently closed. Yet grace has always whispered a different ending: “You’re not finished.” Society says, “If you mess up, you start over from zero.” But God says, “If you mess up, I’ll meet you at zero and start something new.” When we lose our way, God writes around our detours. When we fail, He folds failure into the fabric of redemption. When we give up, His pen doesn’t pause. It just turns the page.

If you believe that all of this is impossible, remember that the Assumption of our Lady is the ultimate example of how all this is possible. It shows God rescuing Mary from the normal rules of human death and decay by a direct, divine act. In a sense, it is the ultimate "divine intervention" and the climax of Mary's life story. No Marvel hero is going to turn up to save the day because there is none. But God will. Lord willing, the rest of us will receive our full triumph - and the full effect of Christ's victory over death - when our own souls are reunited with our glorified bodies at the end of time.

Not enough becomes more than enough

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The second reading is worth a second, a third, perhaps repeated looks as it is one of the most beautiful and powerful assurances of God’s abundant love. St Paul first gives seven hardships and trials which cannot cut us off and then adds another seven hostile powers which are powerless against the love of God. The list is certainly not exhaustive. You can throw in anything imaginable and unimaginable into the list and it would stick. The number seven is clearly symbolic to represent completeness and perfection. The message is clear and couldn’t be stated better: there isn’t anything, absolutely nothing, that can separate us from the love of God.

We can sometimes point to things outside of ourselves and claim that they are pulling us away from God, or that He is pulling Himself away from us, neither of which is true. He never stops offering His love to us and nothing that happens to us can break that bond. It is important to note, however, that there actually is one thing that can ever separate us from the love of Christ – ourselves. Our unwillingness to accept His love by turning away from Him and freely choosing to sin pushes us away from His love, and in the case of mortal sin, we separate ourselves completely from His love.

In the gospel, we have the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and fish followed by the feeding of the multitudes. Except for the Resurrection, the multiplication of loaves is the only miracle told in all four Gospels. Before our Lord works this amazing miracle, we see two obstacles coming between the Lord and the people who are seeking Him out like those thirsting for life giving water in Isaiah’s prophecy. They are hungry and thirsty for His teachings. They are hungry for His healing power. They are hungry for His presence. They refused to leave Him alone and would readily make the long track on foot to ambush His retinue as they set foot on shore. But the Lord also knows that they are physically hungry for food. Man does not live on bread alone, but neither will he survive on fresh air and sunshine alone. And so, our Lord “took pity” on them and took immediate action without dismissing the hungry crowd by hiding behind the most common excuse, “It’s none of my business. I can’t solve every problem. I can’t save the whole world.” But the truth is that Jesus did come for this purpose. His mission is to save the world.

The first obstacle, which is actually a most common excuse for indifference, is limited resources. Here we witness the clash of two economic models - one of scarcity versus one of abundance. The disciples view this issue from the lenses of scarcity and their diagnosis and prognosis seem logical and understandable. In traditional economics, scarcity is the main problem. We have limited resources to meet unlimited wants. It leads to competition, high prices, and prioritisation. Since there isn’t enough to go around, the disciples concluded that Jesus and His cohort should be the first to be fed. They leave the crumbs, if any, for others.

But our Lord’s starting point is the economics of abundance because this is how God always acts. This may seem disingenuous. How can you give what you do not possess? Well, this is true if we are still using the economic model of scarcity. In a scarcity mindset, a pie is a fixed size. If someone takes a big slice, you get less. In an abundance mindset, you bake more pies or share a recipe so everyone can eat. This is what our Lord did in today’s gospel, which only God alone can do. So, the miracle of Jesus is not so much just a sign of Christ’s preferential option for the poor and His use of economic justice to ensure that everyone has an equitable slice of the cake but a sign of Christ’s sacramental economy and the multiplication of grace. He gives gratuitously without demanding for any payment or compensation. This is how He invites the thirsty and hungry to come to Him in the first reading, without expecting any payment or charging any cost. Graces and blessings can’t be bought. He will not deny anyone who comes to Him hungering and thirsting for the life of grace.

But the second obstacle appears to be a harder one to surmount. His disciples are acting like a barrier, goal keepers, to Him sharing His graces with the people. They attempt to push the responsibility of being fed back to the multitude, abdicating theirs, and also preventing our Lord from further ministering to them. Instead of seeing the crowds as a hungry flock waiting to be fed, both spiritually and physically, they saw the latter as a burden. Here we see once again the tentacles of sin at work - sin which attempts to separate us from the love of Christ.

The disciples have forgotten - and we should be careful never to forget - that they are meant to be stepping stones to heaven rather than stumbling blocks for others. A true disciple’s job is to act as a bridge, not a barrier. They are meant to guide people toward a closer relationship with Jesus. Yes, it is true that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, but the disciples were doing a pretty good job at attempting to separate the crowds from their Master. They thought they were doing Him a favour, but they were not. He had come to seek out the lost, feed the hungry and thirsty, liberate those who are imprisoned by their disordered passions, and pour out His abundant life on those who desire it more than life itself.

We may not have the benefit of witnessing the miracle of the multiplication of loaves but the Lord continues to feed us spiritually through the Eucharist. I know many of you can recall how painful it was to be excluded from Masses and Holy Communion during the Covid 19 pandemic -how separated you felt from the Church and the sacraments. Yet, so many have chosen to separate themselves from the Eucharist every Sunday even when there are no longer any restrictions preventing them from coming. It is no longer a matter of safety or a situation of emergency but rather now, a personal choice. They have chosen to separate themselves from the Eucharist and from the Eucharistic Lord, without any good reason.

The Eucharist has much to teach us about living a life imbued with abundance rather than complaining about the scarcity. How can something so little, so insignificant, contain all the power of creation? How can the finite contain the infinite? For this is how God works. It is how Christ shows His life in us. We have to learn, as the disciples had to learn, to see abundance rather than scarcity, plenty rather than lack, promise and hope rather than despair. In our consumer culture, this is a hard lesson. There is never enough time, never enough money, never enough energy. We can quickly get bogged down in all the “more” that we know we want: more happiness, more money, more stuff.

But in the hands of Jesus, not enough becomes more than enough. That is the way that our Lord wishes us to live: in generosity, in hope, and in trust, not in our resources or our own strength, but in His. Let us be stepping stones for each other and for others so that they may find their fulfilment in Christ and not in some cheap fake substitute which the world promises. And should you too suffer from sickness, failure, persecution, or rejection, never forget, never doubt for a second, that “neither death nor life, no angel, no prince, nothing that exists, nothing still to come, not any power, or height or depth, nor any created thing, can ever come between us and the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Fasting and Feasting

Ash Wednesday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Light of God surrounds me

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The darkness seems to be a scary place. We can’t see where we are going, and we can’t identify hazards that might be surrounding us. Darkness feels empty. But the truth is that just because we can’t see what’s in a dark place, it doesn’t mean that there is nothing there. Darkness does not necessarily mean absence, and it certainly does not mean the absence of God. Darkness is a part of life, a backdrop for the stars at night, the space between what you know. Darkness has a way of reminding you of the light you’ve been given on all those other days. This unsettling truth emerges – You have to know the darkness before you can truly appreciate the light. It is that same darkness that makes us open to welcome the soothing rays of light.

The readings that we have heard today provide us with this compelling and consoling message of hope. The light of hope can even be found in the darkness of despair. The gospel is tied to the prophecy of Isaiah in the first reading. When Isaiah proclaimed the oracle, he perceived as darkness and gloom the fact that the northern kingdom was tottering under the blows of foreign oppression. For those who regarded this political crisis in the north as the death knell for the southern kingdom, Isaiah held out the hope of a light in the darkness. In the midst of human failure and defeat, Isaiah promised that those who remained faithful would be blessed with the light of victory. The fulfilment of the Isaian prophecy will not take place during the lifetime of the prophet, but it forms an apt description of what the birth of Jesus and His public ministry meant for the world living in darkness. Christ is the light who shines in the darkness of human need and suffering, Jesus’ advent is the saving dawn, the penetrating ray of justice and truth.

In the second reading, we are confronted with the painful truth that darkness is not just a reality kept at bay outside the confines of our Church. The truth of the matter is that the dark has insidiously crept into the Church and resides within its shadows. Personality cults, political affiliations, ideological positions threatened to break the unity of the Church of Corinth. Four competing groups had emerged with each claiming that its own leader was superior to other leaders and therefore that its version of the gospel was superior to that of the other groups. Paul, himself, had been dragged into this factious battle. Directly confronting each of these factional groups, and even his own party stalwarts, Paul reminded the Christians in Corinth of their basic unity in Christ. That unity, challenged Paul, was to supersede every human preference and was superior to every human wisdom, however attractive. With the light of Christ at her centre, the darkness of her members will never overcome the Church.

We continue to witness how the light of Christ can penetrate the darkness of humanity in the gospel today. It begins on a troubling note – a moment of darkness for Jesus - John the Baptist, his cousin and in some respects his mentor, has just been arrested by Herod for his defiant preaching in response to Herod's marriage. After hearing of the arrest of John, St Matthew tells us that Jesus withdrew to Galilee. Outwardly this may seem to be motivated by a feeling of personal defeat and fear. Such a reading may indicate the uncontested victory of darkness over the light, indeed over the very source of Light. But, Jesus’ withdrawal is not a flight from danger or a retreat into security. He withdraws to Galilee to prepare for a major comeback. It was like the dark sky right before the bright Morning Star appears. To defeat the darkness, He understands that He must enter into the very maelstrom of that darkness; He must be totally identified with the people characterised by Isaiah as the ones ‘who walked in darkness’ and ‘live in a deep shadow.’

Just as our Lord had called these first disciples to emerge from the darkness of their past and come into the light , it is crucial for each of us to recognise this personal call that Christ makes to us, to leave any and all darkness behind and follow Him into the light, to live and walk always illumined by Him. The Lord summons us to follow Him into the light so that we, in turn, can become His light. Discipleship is thus heeding the call to walk and live with Christ to follow Him on that pilgrimage out of the gloom and darkness of our existence.

If there is anyone here today who still walks in that darkness, do not grow too accustomed to it. When you spend too much time in the darkness, you will eventually find it more comfortable than the light. Come to His light — walk no longer in darkness! No matter how difficult things may seem, no matter how bleak, no matter how dark life may become, His light shines in the midst of darkness and the darkness can never overcome it.

And so here we are in the ordinariness of our daily existence, each moment poised between light and darkness – confronted with so many choices. We can choose to be positive or to be consumed by the negative, to live with hopeful optimism or cynical pessimism, to be trapped in fear or to be liberated by faith, to be children of the Light or of Darkness, to follow Christ or the world. It is a simple choice. It is a choice to be made by everyone, a choice that can change us and change our lives and change the world all around us. We can choose to be victims and be silent participants of a world that seems darkened by sin and death, drugs and violence, loneliness and despair, injustice and poverty, hostility and bigotry, hopelessness and cynicism, or we could choose to shine the light of Christ therein and allow that light to transform everything it touches. In the light of Christ, our vision is renewed, our strength rejuvenated, and our story changes - we come to realise that our story can be a story not of despair but one of hope, a journey from heartbreak to happiness, a journey from the dark into the light.

Remember “Buzz Lightyear” of the Toy Story fame? Well, he is named after the famous astronaut, Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, one of only two astronauts who stepped foot on the moon in 1969. Buzz carried this prayer with him, a prayer likely inspired by the famous prayer of St Patrick (the Lorica or Breastplate prayer). In the darkness and isolation of space, with only darkness as an “old friend,” this prayer must have been a blazing beacon of light pushing back all the darkness of the universe. May this be our prayer too:

The Light of God surrounds me;
The Love of God enfolds me;
The Power of God protects me;
The Presence of God watches over me;
Wherever I am, God is,
And all is well.
Amen. (‘Prayer of Protection,’ by James Dillet Freeman)

He weaves all sorts into His story

Christmas Vigil Mass

The story of the birth of Jesus Christ has been told for centuries. The most familiar accounts can be found in Christmas cantatas and children’s Christmas plays, and they usually involve the story of the annunciation to Mary, the birth of the Christ-Child in Bethlehem or the appearance of the angel to the shepherds, yet the liturgy of the vigil Mass begins the story where Matthew begins his Nativity story, that is with the genealogy of Jesus.

I enjoy reading this long list of weird sounding names and love the sound of each rolling off my tongue. I’m quite sure that I would have mispronounced some and butchered most of them. For many the list seems pointless to our Christmas narrative, and many would choose to just skim over or even skip this portion completely, which the liturgy anticipates by offering us the shorter version which includes the last few lines of the text whilst excluding the rest. But I am convinced that our understanding of this vigil liturgy will be impoverished when the genealogical list is missing. And it’s not because I’m a liturgical masochist.

The inclusion of this list in Matthew’s gospel is not accidental. Matthew appears to be teaching us a powerful message about the Messiah by recording His lineage. Matthew divides the genealogy into three main sections of fourteen names each. The first section lists the patriarchs, the second lists kings, and the third lists names of people mostly unknown to us.

The genealogy begins with Matthew stating, "A genealogy of Jesus Christ, son of David, son of Abraham.” Does Matthew wish to present his entire gospel of Jesus Christ as a genealogy? One would imagine that this short line would be an adequately succinct summary of our Lord’s human origins. But then Matthew continues with the list by going into the details starting with the great patriarchs, Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. These were men of great faith who left us heroic examples of righteousness. Right from the start, Matthew appears to be giving us a key to understanding his message. Each of these men were promised that through their seed all the nations of the earth would be blessed, a blessing that would be fully realised only through the birth and coming of the Messiah.

In the second section of the genealogy, we have a list which includes Judah’s kings from David to the Babylonian captivity, emphasising the importance of the dynasty of King David. David was seen by the Jews as their greatest king. Through him the nation of Israel was united. Under his command, the temple was built by his son Solomon. Through his seed the nation was ruled by the line of the kings. One would imagine that his successors would meet up to his legacy. But none of them did, save for two. Only two of the fourteen kings mentioned were considered righteous. Most of them failed to guide their people to the Lord. In fact, they led the people astray with their idolatry and burdened them with social injustices. The true King of Kings in David’s royal line would only be fulfilled through Christ, the Anointed One.

Finally, the last section lists names of those that are otherwise mostly unknown in the Bible. Matthew shows us the critical role these unknown persons played in the story. We can easily view ourselves as nothing special when compared to great spiritual and political leaders like the patriarchs and kings in the previous two sections. But many of us would find good company among those mentioned in this third section, namely the unknowns and insignificant.

From these divisions, we can see that God is able to work through both the spiritually and politically powerful, as well as common ordinary folks that appear to be powerless, unknown and insignificant. And that last part is good news for us because it teaches us that each of us can play a critical role in helping to build the kingdom of God, even if we can boast of no outstanding pedigree or significant influence.

What more, rather than an evolution which leads to the production of a perfect man due to centuries of selection of the fittest over the weakest, the genealogy seems to indicate a regression. What seems more scandalous is that after listing out the genealogy of Joseph which can be traced back to Abraham and David, Matthew makes a simple cursory note that the Saviour is to be born of Mary, but He will not be scion of Joseph. The Saviour is ultimately unconnected to this genealogy of both notables and unknowns. Which leads us to this truth - that though the Messiah is prophesied to be “a son of David, a son of Abraham,” He will not be the product of good genes and an impeccable lineage. The Saviour of the world would come to us as God’s decisive intervention in human history. God will be the cause of this messianic evolutionary leap, not genetics. Through this Saviour, God will inject His genes into the DNA of humankind.

There are four names which stand out in this list, they are that of women. Of all the women ancestors of our Lord, why would these four be named. It was certainly not because they were womanly paragons of virtue since one was guilty of incest, another of prostitution, another was an opportunist and finally, the last mentioned seemed to have willingly committed adultery and tacitly participated in the murder of her husband. Once again, we are shown the subversive side of God and the paradox of God bringing something exceedingly good out of something apparently bad. It is a reminder that, not only do bad things sometimes have good effects, but that in some cases the badness of the cause is essential to the realisation of the good effect. If not for Adam’s sin, our Saviour would not have come. If not for Christ’s death, we will not be saved. If not for these women to continue the line of Abraham and David, our Lord would not possess the messianic title of being called “Son of David” or “Emmanuel.”

After these four female ancestors of questionable reputation, the last woman mentioned stands out. She is Mary. She does not have any illustrious genealogy to boast of. Her origins are unknown. But we do know her as a Virgin who was hailed by the angel as being “full of grace.” Unlike the other women, we finally have a woman untouched by sin, which the Church teaches is not through her own merits but through the merits of her Son. Her place in the story highlights the truth that the Messiah’s true origin is God. Jesus, our Saviour, comes from God and is indeed God because God alone can save us from our sins.

As we read the genealogy of Jesus Christ and consider the people mentioned in His lineage, we learn how God chooses all sorts and weaves them into His story of salvation. Whether a righteous prophet, an imperfect leader, an unknown helper, or someone with a questionable background or reputation, all are known to the Lord. No matter our status, background, gender or station in life, we too can have our name added to the long, beautiful list of those who play a critical role in God’s plan of salvation. During this Christmas and every Christmas, let us not forget that our Lord Jesus chose to be born into our human story, our history, to be “a man like us in all things but sin" (Eucharistic Prayer IV, cf Hebrews 4:15). O Come O Come Emmanuel, and ransom captive Israel!

The Church is your Mother

Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran

Why would the Church choose to celebrate the day a church (a major basilica no less) is dedicated to the worship of God and designate it as a feast? In fact, if this feast falls on a Sunday, it will take the place of the Sunday liturgy.

This is no ordinary building. This is the cathedral of the diocese of Rome, the first Christian church dedicated after the end of the persecution of Christians, the only church described as “the mother and head of all the churches of the City of Rome) and of the world.” In a way, this Church does not only represent the Diocese of Rome but the entire universal Catholic Church. It is not only the mother of all churches but a reminder that the Catholic Church is our mother as St Cyprian beautifully puts it, “you cannot have God as your father if you do not have the Church as your mother.”

The word “basilica” in its application to Christian churches originated here. When Constantine ended the persecution of Christians with the Edict of Milan, Christians were permitted to worship publicly for the first time. Various options from the pagan world were given as possible models for the first church. The problem, however, was that most pagan temples were small, not intended for large public gatherings and communal worship. People generally did not participate in worship which was considered to be the exclusive domain of the priestly class.

So you can imagine Constantine’s surprise when he asked Pope Silvester, “how big of a temple do you want” and Pope Silvester replied, “How big can you build it?” The idea that people would actually participate in worship was revolutionary. St. John Lateran was the first place built for public Christian worship in the City of Rome and as such it set the standard for all others. It taught them, and it teaches us, that the Mass is never something we watch like spectators but always something in which we participate.

This is why our Lord drove the money changers out of the temple. The money changers were thrown out not because they had reduced worship to a financial enterprise, but they represented a system where the common people were excluded from the main worship and they acted as a go-between for the priestly caste and the people. Our Lord came to establish a new Temple out of His own body, a temple in which the presence of God dwells and those assembled are members of His body raised up to be a priestly nation and royal priesthood.

My favourite part of the basilica is the Baptistry, which is reputed to be the oldest part of the basilica which has seen centuries of renovations and reconstruction. It is a squat octagonal building with its interior walls beautifully decorated with murals depicting the story of Constantine coming to the faith. The eight sides represent the Eighth Day, Sunday, the Day of our Lord’s resurrection, and thus an apt symbol of the rebirth Christians experience in the waters of baptism. It is said that this building was not built from raw fresh materials but parts of other imperial monuments. They could have used new construction material but instead they used existing material from much older buildings.

It is done so for a purpose, to teach a truth of faith. As grace builds upon nature, the sacred is taken from the profane and profoundly incorporated into the body of Christ. The ancient monuments of Old pagan Rome which tried to destroy Christianity are now subverted for the glory of God and for His Church. Sin is subverted for the greater good. That is the power of baptism – It changes all people and makes them new in Christ. The Church always has been a community of sinners seeking God’s grace. The Baptistery of St. John Lateran reminds us that no sin is greater than God’s mercy, and that the waters of Baptism and the grace of Reconciliation continue to take what is profane and make it sacred.

St. John Lateran teaches us that the Church is where we trust and celebrate God’s all-powerful, unbounded, transforming mercy. Christianity is no longer only a private, personal experience of faith or a mere spectator of human history and politics. It is now a public witness that courageously forms society and transforms cultures and no longer hides in fear of persecution or rejection and the Church has a necessary voice in world affairs. Today, we do not just celebrate the dedication of a building – we celebrate the mission of the Church which continues to teach, sanctify and provide guidance in the name of her Lord and Saviour.

Humility blossoms in Generosity

Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Recently, I attended a friend’s sacerdotal anniversary celebration. I was given the honour to be seated at the main VIP table that was strategically placed at the very centre of the hall. Apart from the stage, all eyes were laser focused on this table and all who sat at it. If given a choice, I would have asked for an obscure table at the side. My request was not made out of humility but out of selfish convenience. It’s easier to make a bee line for the restrooms when you are at the side and no one would notice that you are attempting to make an early exit.

So, the advice provided by the Lord in today’s gospel with regard to etiquette behaviour at a wedding feast where we are invited as guests does not immediately strike me as self-deprecating. Some may even describe it as a cunning and manipulative way of getting upgraded instead of suffering the humiliation of being downgraded.

On this day, as we celebrate our Independence Day, though not exactly the foundation of our federal nation, and as we also celebrate our Parish Community as family, we are provided with a lesson on two important virtues which are essential to harmonious living and being neighbourly - humility and generosity.

In fact, these two virtues are intimately connected. Humility, a virtue often misconstrued, stands in stark contrast to entitlement, the enemy of generosity. Humility thrives in restraint, obscurity, and vulnerability, not seeking validation or retribution against those who have wronged us. It’s a hidden treasure of the soul, more intrigued by the inner sanctum than the spotlight. Humility lies down and waits—not in a defeated way but in a way that brings peace. People who have little patience have little humility. They feel entitled to instant gratification. When impatience begins to drain from us, we begin to listen. Humility can feel tiresome, but mostly when we are fighting it.

On the other hand, pride drives the need for entitlement. We give not out of the generosity of the heart but expecting something in return, which exposes false generosity for what it is - a self-serving attitude. If we do something good for others, it is not for their benefit but for ours and we feel upset when they show little gratitude or acknowledgement. Entitlement is the new disease of pride gone unchecked. Instead of rejoicing over the blessings which others have received, the sense of entitlement leads to resentment.

But our Lord tells us in today’s gospel that true generosity involves giving without the expectation of receiving anything in return. No strings attached. No quid pro quo. So often, our mindset is to give something in order to get something. We make friends because it is advantageous to do so. We give compliments to get one back. We love in order to be loved. No matter what it is, there’s often an expectation to our giving. But real generosity doesn’t have that same expectation. God gave us Jesus, not because we gave Him anything to deserve or earn this gift, but simply because He chose to do so out of the generosity of His heart. It was an intentional and loving gift—one that demonstrates true, unwavering generosity.

On this day as we reflect over our common citizenship and fraternal bond as sisters and brothers in the Body of Christ, let us make every effort to reject pride and entitlement, which are twin diseases that do not only eat into the very core of our being but also into the foundation of our society and community. In place of pride, let us seek humility. Instead of demanding something from the community, from the Church or from our country, let us be ever generous to see in what way can we contribute to the betterment of our society. Let us remember those immortal words of John F. Kennedy, spoken at his inaugural address as president of the United States: “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.” I would also add: “Ask not what your Church can do for you, ask what you can do for your Church.”

Are you saved?

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Our Lord gives us a frightening parable of judgment in answer to the question: “Sir, will there be only a few saved?” You may think that this question is ludicrous, that it’s making a mountain out of a molehill. You may even volunteer to beat Jesus in giving the answer to this man: “of course not! Don’t you know that everyone’s going to be saved?” Although official Catholic teaching and Protestant understanding of salvation shares many points in common, this is where they defer – at least in popular imagination. Many Catholics believe that everyone is going to heaven while Protestants think that almost everyone, unless you are a true Christian believer, is going to hell.

When Protestants ask Catholics if they have been saved, the question would most likely be met with a stunned look on the part of the Catholic or an admission that he has never thought about this before. This comes as good news to the Protestant as he can now confidently proselytise the Catholic and ensure that the latter is saved by becoming a Bible believing, faith professing Protestant Christian. For many Protestants, one becomes a Christian by merely making a confession of faith in Jesus as Saviour and Lord. Baptism comes later but isn’t necessary for our salvation. I guess the reason why most Catholics are not prepared with an answer to that question is that salvation or rather, heaven, is something they often take for granted. Why worry about this moot issue when we can all get to heaven?

Perhaps, this common Catholic misunderstanding of universal salvation can be far more dangerous than the Protestant heretical position of being saved once and for all by grace alone. When you believe that salvation is guaranteed whether you’ve lived a good life or not in conformity to Christ’s teachings and God’s will, it is called the sin of presumption, which is a sin against hope. On presumption, the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “There are two kinds of presumption. Either man presumes upon his own capacities, (hoping to be able to save himself without help from on high), or he presumes upon God’s almighty power or his mercy (hoping to obtain his forgiveness without conversion and glory without merit).” (CCC 2092) When people are presumptuous, they are living in denial of the truth. And because they are living in denial, they will not repent of his or her own sin.

I have often tried to explain the Catholic position on salvation to both Catholics and non-Catholics by using this analogy of being shipwrecked in the middle of an ocean. We’re like the survivors of a shipwreck in a storm out in mid-ocean. Just imagine being in this situation. The nearest shoreline is just too far for even the strongest swimmer. You won’t be able to save yourself. The only way that we can get out of this situation is that we are saved. And the good news is that we have been rescued from drowning by the Lord Jesus Himself, our Saviour, and welcomed onboard the ship we call the Church. That ship is now taking us to a safe harbour — our home in heaven with God. For Protestants, being saved is the end of the story and they don’t even believe you need a boat for this. But for Catholics, baptism, being rescued into the ship is just the first step. But we’re not home yet.

You could say, then, that we’ve been “saved” in the sense of being rescued and taken aboard a safe vessel. But we can’t really speak of being “saved” in the full sense until we reach our destination. We must humbly admit that we haven’t yet arrived at final perfection. Meanwhile, we also must recognise the sobering possibility that — God forbid — we could choose someday to jump overboard again. Salvation isn’t guaranteed just because of something we’ve done in the past. We continue to have a free will, which is part of God’s likeness in us. So we still have the ability to turn away from God again. It’s a chilling possibility. But it shouldn’t make us perpetually worried that we’ll be damned despite our best efforts to grow in grace. We can be confident that God desires our salvation, and He’s faithful to help us. And He does so by providing us with the Sacraments. If we’re tempted to forsake Him, He’ll grant us the power to resist that temptation. He will even send a lifeboat to rescue us again through the sacrament of penance. Even so, the choice is still ours.

If we can’t be certain as to the final statistics on the population of heaven and hell, there are some things we can know with certainty because our Lord has revealed this to us, leaving no room for speculation.

Firstly, Hell is real and it is everlasting. We may not hear much about hell these days and we may not even like to, but silence on the subject does not make the reality of Hell go away. Infact the denial of hell leads ultimately to the trivialising of heaven. But a healthy understanding of the pains and horrors of hell, will lead us to an authentic appreciation of the joys of heaven.

Secondly, life is a series of choices. We can either choose to take a) the difficult path that leads to the narrow gate and life, and b) the broad path which leads to the wide gate and destruction. The narrow path is the way of the Cross which our Lord undertook, and we must follow in our respective way. The second reading from Hebrews reminds us that the suffering we endure is not the result of a cruel sadistic God but because “suffering is part of your training; God is treating you as his sons.” It is a popular error of our time to believe that it does not matter which road one takes. Some believe that all roads are like spokes on a wheel, all leading to the same place—Heaven. In fact, we make choices every day that draw us closer to God or lead us farther away from Him. That’s why simply believing in Jesus isn’t enough. Friendship with God, like friendship of any kind, is more than just getting acquainted. It involves making a series of choices to love over the long term, so that a committed relationship grows. Faith is useless then, without good works. God must have our active cooperation, because both our mind and our will — the full likeness of God — must be renewed if we’re to be saved in the end.

Thirdly, there is an urgency to making the right decision. Time is of the essence. No time for procrastination or putting off what must be done today. Our Lord speaks of the time when the householder will arise, shut and lock the door. That corridor of opportunity will not always be opened and if mistaken that it is always open may lead to our destruction.

Finally, we must make our own salvation and the salvation of all those around us, our top priority in this life. As the old Catholic adage reminds us: “the salvation of souls is the supreme law!” Nothing else ranks anywhere close in importance—not health, wealth, career, popularity, possessions or acclaim by others. Know what you must do to be saved and work out that salvation in fear and trembling.

Today, let us not be guilty of the sin of presumption that Heaven is guaranteed no matter how or which way we live our lives. Truly, our Lord Jesus is the Divine Mercy. Truly, He wishes and desires for all of us to be saved. But more urgently, He wants us to understand that there can be no other way to salvation other than passing through the Narrow Door. He is that Narrow Doorway to Heaven. It is the Gospel of Christ, paid by His own blood on the cross. It is demanding. It demands that we make the ultimate sacrifice by turning our backs on all the false gods that have become the defining elements in our lives. It demands repentance on our part.

Proclaiming the Glory of God

Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Today’s feast does not sit well with Protestants. It will be no surprise that those for whom the bible is paramount, for whom nothing can be said without clear biblical justification, the doctrine of the Assumption is not something they are easy with. We use the gospel reading on the Visitation, because there is nothing in the gospels that describes the Assumption in the way that the Visitation is described. Elsewhere, Psalm 132, where the Blessed Virgin is interpreted as the “Ark of God” that is taken into heaven, is cited. Along with similar interpretations of Genesis 3:15, 1 Corinthians 15:54, and Revelation 12:1-2, this hardly amounts to an explicit expression of the dogma of the Assumption; on their own, they are not a ringing endorsement. So, why is this gospel passage selected for today? How do we draw a trajectory from the Visitation to that of the Assumption?

We know so little of Mary even from the few scriptural references to her. How could the Church, therefore, make this leaping conjecture to speak of her as the most honoured and glorified creature of God, exalted above all creation, and uniquely sharing the privilege of incorruptibility of her Son at the end of her earthly sojourn? I would like to propose that the answer to all these questions is found in the great hymn of Mary, the Magnificat, described by Pope Benedict XVI as a “marvelous canticle (that) mirrors the entire soul, the entire personality of Mary. We can say that this hymn of hers is a portrait of Mary, a true icon in which we can see her exactly as she is.”

The Blessed Virgin Mary confesses in the inspired hymn, guided by the Holy Spirit, that the source of her “greatness” and “blessedness” is not found in any personal merit but in God. She does not exalt herself as others are prone of doing but immediately the greatness of God when she hears of Elizabeth’s praise of her and the child within her womb. Just as the Magnificat is a song that glorifies and exalts God, today’s feast of the Assumption is an Opus Magnum to God who raises her up to share in His heavenly glory. 

The erudite Pope Benedict continues to explain: “Mary wanted God to be great in the world, great in her life and present among us all. She was not afraid that God might be a “rival” in our life, that with his greatness he might encroach on our freedom, our vital space. She knew that if God is great, we too are great. Our life is not oppressed but raised and expanded: it is precisely then that it becomes great in the splendour of God. The fact that our first parents thought the contrary was the core of original sin. They feared that if God were too great, he would take something away from their life. They thought that they could set God aside to make room for themselves.”

But this is not the case of Mary. She understood that her lowliness and littleness was the perfect occasion for God to exhibit His power and greatness. This was no virtue-signaling stemming from a misguided sense of false humility. Although what God had done and was doing in her life was radically new, because nothing like the Incarnation had ever happened or could ever be conceived, it was not a radical departure from what God had done in history and will continue to do until the end of time. The Assumption is precisely the best testimony and proof of what the Lord has promised to do in scripture and what Mary had sung in this song of praise. 

The difficulty of Protestants and other detractors in accepting the dogma of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary is that they often confuse this event with the Ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ. At a superficial level, one could say that the Ascension is recorded in the gospels while Mary’s Assumption isn’t. If the Bible was the only record of revelation, this would be irrefutable proof that the belief in the Assumption is untenable. Case closed. Full stop. But for us Catholics, the deposit of faith is not only found in written Sacred Scripture but also in oral Sacred Tradition, the former affirming the validity of the latter. Although there is no record of the life and death of Mary after the death, resurrection and Ascension of her Son, Sacred Tradition provides us with the source material to fill in the blanks. While the relics and tombs of the apostles were venerated from the earlier centuries, Mary left no first relic  of her physical body. But we honour the place where she was buried and just like her Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, the tomb is empty. There is no body because as the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: "Finally the Immaculate Virgin, preserved free from all stain of original sin, when the course of her earthly life was finished, was taken up body and soul into heavenly glory, and exalted by the Lord as Queen over all things, so that she might be the more fully conformed to her Son, the Lord of lords and conqueror of sin and death."The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin is a singular participation in her Son's Resurrection and an anticipation of the resurrection of other Christians.”"

So, the real fundamental difference between the Ascension of our Lord and the Assumption of our Lady would be their respective causes. The Ascension of Christ was by His own power. Only Christ has ascended to Heaven. In the Gospel of St. John, Jesus told Nicodemus, ”No one has ascended into Heaven but he who descended from Heaven, the Son of man” (John 3:13). But the Glorification of Mary’s body and her Assumption was not by her own power, however. It was by the decision and act of God. So, to deny that it is impossible for Mary to be assumed into heaven both body and soul, is a direct affront to the sovereignty and power of God - to assert that God is powerless to do so.

Although the Assumption of Mary and the Ascension of the Lord are two different events, both of them indicate a way of elevation for us, human and spiritual, to which we are all called. The beauty of these callings is that they invite interior growth, renovation and transformation in our lives. Furthermore, these celebrations of our Church remind us that “death” is not the end of our human story. Death is just a transition to the true life with God, life eternal in the fullness of God’s love.

 

At the end of Mary’s life on earth, Mary is taken up to heaven in body and soul. She, who never knew sin, was assumed into heaven and never experienced corruption. Mary, as the new Eve, fulfilled God’s plan from the beginning of creation. Mary always lived perfectly in the will of God. The handmaid of the Lord has laid down for us the perfect model of discipleship that we may follow. We are called to live in the will of God and we don’t have to do this alone. She is there to help us.

Here I am, send me

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

There is a tendency among many to be drawn to certain charismatic preachers and leaders. Can people be faulted for this? Who doesn’t want to be inspired or motivated or moved to tears or action? And whether one wishes to admit it or not, who doesn’t want to be entertained by amusing anecdotes and colourful illustrations? That is why crowds would throng to a rally or a preached mission whenever a popular and dynamic preacher is in town. But the readings which we hear this Sunday provide us with an important and necessary corrective - the gospel is always greater than its greatest proclaimers. An important truth that preachers, like me, should remember and need. “For what we preach is not ourselves,” wrote St Paul to the Corinthians, “but Jesus Christ as Lord” (2 Cor. 4:5).

The prophets of old like Isaiah and the great missionary apostles like St Paul and St Peter, were anything than rockstar-like celebrities of the faith. The quest for celebrity-like fame can actually be a distraction from the work of preaching the gospel. The habit of seeking ever-larger audiences through new technologies always runs the risk of trivialising the message, fueling the culture of celebrity, and losing sight of the everyday work of evangelisation.

In all three examples that are offered by today’s readings - Isaiah in the first reading, St Paul in the second and St Peter in the gospel - there is a keen awareness of their own personal unworthiness. Isaiah protests that he is unworthy to speak God’s words because he is a man of unclean lips. Paul claims that he is the “least among the apostles” and that he “hardly deserve the name apostle.” When Simon Peter discovered the enormity of what he has just witnessed, the Lord performing a miracle before his own eyes, he pleaded, “Leave me, Lord; I am a sinful man.” None of these men stated a claim that they were entitled to the right of proclaiming the Word of God. On the contrary, all three clearly admitted their own disqualification.

Many of us would have similar sentiments and that is the reason why so many Catholics fail to undertake the work of sharing the good news with others. If you have ever felt that you were not good enough for God or the work He wishes to entrust to you, know this - you are in good company - because that’s just how Isaiah, St Paul, and St Peter felt when God called them.

Feeling inadequate before God is certainly understandable. In a way, this isn’t wrong. It’s a sign of humility to recognise our inadequacy before God. After all, God is God! He is perfectly good, perfectly righteous, and perfectly pure. We are none of those things. When we imagine ourselves before a being of such power and purity, we can’t help but feel small and unworthy by comparison. Yet, despite our unworthiness God continues to call us. Don’t take my word for it. Take God’s Word. He still chose Isaiah and Peter and Paul, despite their protestations of being unworthy. If it takes humility to recognise that we are unworthy, it takes greater humility to admit that it’s not about us! It’s all about God - the sovereignty of God and the freedom He exercises in choosing who He pleases even if the world or the person thinks nothing of it. It would be arrogance for us to question God’s choice.

This is why in our human frailty, we cannot just merely depend on our abilities and resources. We have abilities and we do have resources but we also have our limitations. But God supplements these with His abundant grace. This is what St Paul declared in the second reading: “I am the least of the apostles; in fact, since I persecuted the Church of God, I hardly deserve the name apostle; but by God’s grace that is what I am, and the grace that he gave me has not been fruitless.” Like Paul before his conversion, many of us continue to live in the delusion that we are self-made, that we have to chart our own destiny, orchestrate our own achievements, work hard to achieve our goals. But there is also grace that shapes and perfects us and as Paul so rightly noted, that it is by “God’s grace that is what I am.”

This is also what Peter experienced in the gospel. The dawn of his new life marked by the success which could only be brought on by the Lord’s miraculous assistance had to come after a long night of struggling and repeated failure. Peter would continue to experience this pattern in his own life. Whenever he depended solely on his bravado, his personal leadership skills, his speaking out of turn and jumping the gun, he would meet with failure and disappointment. Tradition tells us that this pattern continues even after the Lord had ascended and he had received the mantle of leadership and the gift of the Holy Spirit. But despite his shortcomings and failings, and in spite of it, our Lord would continue to return to him, renewing his election and commission. Peter too can declare with Paul that the Lord’s “grace that is what I am.”

Now many of us would argue that unlike Isaiah, we were not given a vision of heaven, or like Peter and Paul, called by the Lord personally to be His apostles. How does the Lord qualify us who are unqualified? The answer is simple and yet profound. The Lord continues to call and He continues to act and He continues to pour out His graces through the Church, especially through the sacraments. All of the sacraments are tangible means by which God imparts His intangible grace to us. Baptism is that first sacrament that binds us to Christ, Penance is the sacrament that restores us to union with Him when we have strayed, the Eucharist is what He chooses to sustain us with His own body and blood. That is why when people avoid the sacraments, they do not know what they are missing out. Just like the air we breathe is necessary for our survival, the grace we receive through the sacraments is necessary for our salvation. Without grace, we will perish.

But for all our dependence on grace, does it mean that we just sit back and do nothing? We are not Calvinist Protestants who hold on to the erroneous sola that only grace alone saves. St Paul was the greatest evangeliser the world has ever known, and he certainly worked hard at it. But he was only able to succeed by relying on God’s grace. This is the key: we can’t do God’s work on our own. Nor can we just sit back and be lazy Christians, relying on God to do all the work. The truth lies in the middle: we need to put forth effort, because God wants to work through us and in us, our will cooperating with His. God knows exactly what you are capable of. He knows exactly how strong you are, and how weak you are. He knows your knowledge and your ignorance. He knows your capacities and your limitations. And He says, my grace is sufficient for you (2 Cor 2:19). We just need to trust that the God who calls us will provide whatever grace is needed to answer that call. All we need to do is say, like Isaiah, “Here I am” (Is 6:8).

There is a moment that comes at every Mass, just before we receive Communion. The priest holds the consecrated host up before us and proclaims, “Behold the Lamb of God, behold Him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to the Supper of the Lamb.” At that moment, like Isaiah and St. Peter, we find ourselves in the presence of divinity. We stand before perfect goodness. And if we feel unworthy before that presence… let us pray with earnestness and complete sincerity, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” We acknowledge our sins and trust God to forgive us. We acknowledge our weakness and trust God to strengthen us. We have faith that God will accomplish His will through us and in humility we say, “Here I am; send me.”

The Best Wine for the last

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Every drinker would appreciate the wisdom found in this Bible verse taken from the Book of Ecclesiastes (9:7), “Go, eat your food with gladness, and drink your wine with a joyful heart, for it is now that God favours what you do.” Wine or alcohol can be a bringer of joy, albeit temporary. But when the initial momentary elation wears off, the mood can descend into tears, anger, and even violence... and don’t forget the massive hangover that is certain to follow. After the string of drinking parties stretching from Christmas to the New Year, it’s time to sober up. The celebration is literally over when “we have run out of wine”, money and leave!

The Bible treats intoxicating drinks ambivalently, considering them both a blessing from God that brings joy and merriment, and potentially dangerous beverages that can be sinfully abused. The wine in today’s gospel story bears the first sense. Thank God for that! The symbol of wine used with the theme of the wedding feast expresses the exhilarating joy of ‘the Hour,’ not just the hour of nuptial bliss for the couple, but the ‘Hour’ marking the decisive intervention of God and manifestation of His glory in Christ. This is the hour of Israel’s liberation. Her Saviour has come! But just when the celebrations were gaining momentum, it risked being turned into a disaster. The festivities encountered an untimely snag: “they ran out of wine.” The mother of Jesus announces the sobering news, “They have no wine.” For all those present, this would have sounded like a death sentence.

This incident is a very fitting illustration of the failure of all this world’s joys. As much as we hope for an inexhaustible supply of resources, as much as we pray that the party and the honeymoon will never end, we always end up with an empty casket after everything has been drained. We know what it means for the wine to run out. Sooner or later in every situation, in every lucky streak, in every relationship, in every type of human pleasure, the wine runs out. Our family members, one by one, leave the nest. Divorce or separation may come even after years of a happy married life. Our friends, with whom we've shared so many enjoyable times, slowly move away. Our motivation to work and to produce is soon replaced with fatigue and burn out. In the parish, the exodus of the young, and the gradual decline of the BECs seem to signal the death of a once vibrant community. In every human achievement, pleasure, and joy — the "wine" is bound to run out.

What do all these experiences tell us? Have we truly run out of wine? Has the party ended? Or are these scenarios merely pointing to the fact that we are often dictated by our subjective experiences, especially our emotions? It is interesting to note that our assessment of any situation is often dictated by our subjective experience. “How do I feel?” This is quite natural. The problem is that we often assume that our subjective assessment is conclusive and infallible. But our feelings say more about ourselves than objective realities. We confuse our emotional urges for the voice of conscience. In any event, emotions are always beyond our control and they never last. This kind of wine is inevitably doomed to run out.

Thousands of years ago, the people of Israel also thought that the destruction of their country meant the end of everything. They were mocked by their neighbours as the “Forsaken” and “Abandoned” People. Israel had only herself to blame for this due to her infidelity. But Isaiah in the first reading gives an entirely different ending to the story, an objective one as far as it is the vision of God. It is a message of hope. All is not lost because God will return to redeem them. They will be called by a new name; they will be called “My Delight” and “The Wedded” for God has taken delight in them again. God has renewed His covenant with them – He has wedded them again. What brought about this change? They finally realised that glory and blessings come from God alone. No human power, riches or glory will last. Eventually all these things will run out except that which is given by God.

Our most common folly is that we often realise this important point only too late, after our own resources have been depleted or exhausted. In our drunken merriment, self-absorbed in our own human achievements, we often fail to recognise that Christ is the true source of joy, an inexhaustible and irrevocable joy, unless we choose to ignore Him. He is not only the provider of the wine that will never run out. He is the Best Wine often mistakenly kept for the last.

Thus, we must guard against the deception of subjective assessment and be misled into thinking that this is the end, merely on the basis that we feel it is so. When we allow our subjective impressions to dictate our lives, it would only lead to chaos and confusion. Here, our Catholic understanding of the Sacraments is important. Sacramental theology speaks of an objective reality, which is the grace we receive in the Sacraments, that is not dependent on our subjective experience or our emotions. Christ is present, truly, really, substantially at every Mass and in the tabernacle whether you “feel” it or not. The truth that Christ is present here is a fact. Your feelings do not matter. “Facts have no feelings!”

Likewise, even when the parties to the marriage no longer feel anything for the other, this does not spell the end of the marriage. The subjective experience of the parties does not determine the end of the objective reality proposed by the sacrament. Objectively, Christ remains faithful; He continues to confer the necessary grace through the Sacrament of matrimony, and this ultimately defines the permanency of the marital bond. In another instance, even if everyone in the congregation felt listless and bored during the entire mass, or the priest was ill-prepared to celebrate the mass, the mass is still objectively the Sacrifice of the Cross. As the fate of marriages cannot be determined by changing sentiment, the victory of the Cross is not undone by our fluctuating moods.

So, what do we do when the wine runs out? What do we do when the thrill is gone? What do we do when the faith dissipates? Many look for substitutes, only to find themselves disappointed once again because the wine will also run out. ‘Running away’ is no solution too. Mary shows us the way. The strength of Mary’s faith is when she tells the servants to follow the instructions of her Son. We run to Jesus with faith that He can do even the impossible, even outmatching the miracle of transforming water into wine. Mary teaches us to come to Him in humble submission, ready to listen to what He has to tell us, even though it may go against our better judgment. So, when the wine runs out, don’t attempt to brew some more, don’t look for cheap alternatives and don't run away. It’s not over. The best wine has been saved for the last – it is Jesus.

You complete me

Twenty Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

For those who had lived through the 90s, Jerry Maguire must have been one of the most iconic romantic movies of all times. I know that most Gen Z’s would be scratching their heads, “Jerry Who?” It starred Tom Cruise, most famous for his looks than his acting skills, next to an almost unknown actress. The most famous tagline of the movie became one of the most popular “pick-up” lines used to express one’s undying love and desperate need for the other - “You complete me!” It sounds so awesomely romantic to literally be unable to live without someone because a part of you is missing. I mean, you can’t get more Romeo-and-Juliet than that, right? Like, let me drink poison if we can’t be together so I won’t ever have to live without you and I would literally rather die than live without you because You… Complete…Me.

The tagline may not have been that original as it draws inspiration from the Jewish mystical tradition, that each person possesses half a soul and it is only when they have found the other half of their soul in a person whom they will spend their entire lives with, will the two halves be reunited and made whole, thus the man and the woman “complete” each other. That’s a beautiful way of describing the complementarity of husband and wife but it is far from our Christian understanding of marriage and the person. A man does not complete a woman nor a woman a man in marriage. If this were so, then they can also choose to end this union as quickly and simply as they had sealed it. Rather, it is as our Lord reminds us, “what God has united, man must not divide.” We are, in fact, full persons, created in the image of God in need of no one but Jesus Christ. It is He who completes us!

Jerry Maguire might be right about one thing—Yes, we are incomplete people. But it’s not because we’re unmarried or that we have yet to find the other half of our soul. It’s because God has “put eternity in the heart of man” (Ecclesiastes 3:11) and that “His invisible attributes…have been clearly perceived ever since the creation of the world” (Romans 1:19-20). Without Him, we are incomplete, lacking something, missing a critical part of our soul. Notice that when God is absent in our lives, we will always try to fill that bottomless hole and make up for that inexhaustible absence with other things - things which can provide temporary relief but continue to remind us of what is perennially missing and which can only be satiated by God and God alone. And until He is the one to fill that hole, you’ll be incomplete. If there is one line which can utterly beat the Jerry Maguire line it should be this famous quote from St Augustine: “(O God) you have made us and drawn us to yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

One of the ways our Lord completes someone is by giving him a “helpmate.” In response to Adam’s lonely plight, God created for him an “ezer” translated as “helpmate.” The English translation is inadequate and, in our day, we may use the word “helper” in the sense of a maid, a domestic helper. But that is far from the meaning of the Hebrew word used to describe the first woman in the first reading. This is not the only occasion where the Hebrew word appears. In fact, it appears 21 times in total in the Old Testament. In two cases it refers to the first woman, Eve. Three times it refers to powerful nations Israel called on for help when besieged. In the sixteen remaining cases the word refers to God as our help. He is the one who comes alongside us in our helplessness.

This last reference of the noun “ezer” provides us with the context of how to understand the other instances when the word is used. It does not suggest 'helper' as in 'servant,' but help, saviour, rescuer, protector as in 'God is our help.' In no other occurrence in the Old Testament does this refer to an inferior, but always to a superior or an equal...'help' expresses that the woman is a help/strength who rescues or saves man. The woman was not created to serve the man, but to serve WITH the man. Without the woman, the man was only half the story. She was not an afterthought or an optional adjunct to an independent, self-sufficient man. God said in Genesis 2:18 that without her, the man's condition was "not good." God's intention in creating the woman for the man was for the two to be partners in stewarding God's creation.

Therefore, all of you are to be a helpmate to each other for so much more than mere intimate friendship and companionship. The old penny Catechism reminds us that we are created solely for God and for heaven – to know God, to love Him, to serve Him and be with Him in Paradise forever. If this is life’s main purpose, and it is truly a tall order, then we seriously are in need of help. The good news is that God gives us that help, but He also provides help, for most people, through a spouse, a friend, a community member, or a priest. God has created each of us not as lone travellers but ‘indispensable companions’ in our journey to heaven. The purpose of that helpmate must be to help us achieve the main purpose of our lives NOT to accomplish our own selfish, self-centred and myopic agendas. We are to help each other worship, obey, love God and be with Him in Paradise forever. We are to help each other get to heaven. In the case of a marriage, if this doesn’t become a couple’s life project, they may actually end up dragging each other to hell.

Finding a lifelong friend or being married, doesn’t mean that you’ve exorcised loneliness into the furthest regions of the universe. The spectre of loneliness trails many good couples and plagues even the best of marriages and friendships. And loneliness may often tempt us to find false substitutes in adulterous relationships, pornography, addictions and workaholism. Where does such loneliness come from? Well, we return to the story in Genesis. In the beginning, it was a literal paradise of fulfilling relationships as God in an unhindered way walked with Adam and Eve in the garden and they enjoyed the fullest experience of intimacy with each other. But how did the demon of loneliness infect their hearts? Well, the simple answer is sin – disobedience to God’s will and purpose. Sin is refusing to allow God to “complete” us. Notice how Adam and Eve hid from God out of fear of getting caught, and Adam blamed Eve for his disobedience, which clearly drove a wedge into their flawless intimacy. And the deep fellowship on every satisfying level is now replaced by alienation, blame, distrust, and shame.

The lesson here is huge. Living a God-less life ultimately leads us to a love-less life. Living for what’s “best for me,” while ignoring the needs, wishes, and interests of others always brings alienation and aloneness. Thank God that He has made a way for us to restore relationships and to recapture a portion of the intimacy of Eden. When we follow the way of Jesus and live to love and serve others, aloneness gives way to intimacy and our self-serving acts of alienation dissolve into a profound bonding that reflects the complete and perfect harmony of the Three Persons of the Most Holy Trinity. Between Father, Son, and Holy Spirit there exists no conflict of will, no battle for dominance, no petty struggle to be identified or appreciated independently of the other. There exists only the perfect communion of love, and a blessed oneness of purpose and intent and action. Without Him, we will continue to be restless and listless, for only God can complete us, you and me.