Loving Judgment

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

One of the most common accusations and attacks heaped by modern folks on Christians, especially Catholics, is that we are too judgmental. What makes this accusation most stinging is that we are rebuked with the assertion that “Jesus never judged anyone.” Is this a valid accusation? How should we respond to it? For many Catholics, the only way to deflect the accusation is to remain silent or adopt a relativistic approach to morality - “there is no right or wrong” or “there is no absolute truth,” or “it depends on how you look at it.”

But perhaps the most common argument to avoid being seen as judgmental is to cite our Lord on this issue. Didn’t our Lord Himself say: “judge not, that you be not judged?” (Matthew 7:1). Or perhaps His most famous warning on the hypocrisy of blind judgmentalism which we just heard in today’s gospel: “Why do you observe the splinter in your brother’s eye and never notice the plank in your own?” It is quite convenient to take this saying out of context but if we continue reading the rest of the text, we realise that our Lord is actually proposing to us a correct way of judging rather than forbidding all forms of judgment.

The first step in making a correct judgment is honest and humble introspection. “Take the plank out of your own eye first, and then you will see clearly enough to take out the splinter that is in your brother’s eye.” One cannot apply two standards: “Rules for Thee but none for me.” If we wish to judge others, we must be ready to judge ourselves, to honestly recognise and call out our own prejudices, biases, hidden agendas, and sinful thoughts and actions.

The second step is that we should avoid making quick, rash and premature judgment, to avoid “judging a book by its cover.” In the first reading, Ben Sira provides us with four illustrations or examples by which we should test someone’s worth by observing their speech. But in the gospel, our Lord while still affirming that one’s speech is an indication of what is in his heart, appears to move beyond speech to other aspects of a person’s behaviour: “every tree can be told by its own fruit.”

Finally, we must make a clear distinction between judging someone’s behaviour and judging the eternal state of his soul. Although as rational beings, we are capable of doing the first and should in certain cases, the latter solely belongs to God. We cannot claim to read the thoughts nor accurately discern the intentions of others. We can draw some conclusions from their actions and behaviours but we cannot claim to be certain of their guilt or innocence purely through speculation. Even courts acknowledge that one is innocent until proven guilty. Likewise, if we have to presume, we should always try to presume the best rather than the worst. Every good Christian should be ready to give a favourable interpretation to the speech, deeds and behaviour of another than to be quick to condemn them.

It is also important for us to distinguish between making a valid moral judgment and being judgmental. It is imperative that we learn to do the former as an exercise of conscience while making sure that we avoid the latter. Pointing out the truth is not judgmental. It is not judgmental to make a moral appraisal of whether a person’s actions are sinful or whether the person is likely culpable for them. Our entire justice system is dependent on this. The refusal to make such judgment would result in the collapse of the whole system and would be a travesty of justice.

Secondly, it is not judgmental to have a negative emotional reaction to what is objectively evil. Thirdly, it is not judgmental to act with prudence when dealing with someone who has cheated us or hurt us. We should not be so gullible as to trust everyone without reservation. We must take the necessary precautions to avoid further harm to oneself or others.

If we still seem hesitant about engaging in judging or correcting others, know that Jesus did it all the time; He showed us what we must do by His own example. When the apostles were afraid that the violent storm would lead to their perishing, Jesus rebuked them, “Why are you terrified, O you of little faith” (Matthew 8:26). This was a judgment. In a pointed attack on the duplicity of the religious leaders, Jesus called them a “brood of vipers” (Matthew 12:34). Another judgment. When saving the woman caught in adultery from being stoned by the religious leaders, Jesus showed her mercy yet told her to “not sin anymore” (John 8:11), recalling her past life and summoning her to a conversion of life. This, too, was a judgment.

If we can spare a soul from sadness, sorrow and despair by judging them and assisting them in converting from sin, then we have shown them great love. To not judge and to turn a blind eye to the grave sins of others is a form of false compassion and sinful neglect. True Good Samaritans take the time and effort to come to the aid of those who are suffering because of the assault of sin.

So, when faced with the immoral behaviour of others, how can we be sure to rightly judge behaviour? In our Lord’s own words, we must start by taking the plank out of our own eyes—by making sure we are doing the best we can to live lives of good example. We must also strive to form our consciences correctly, so we know sin when we see it, even in ourselves. Finally, we must not jump to conclusions about another’s culpability in sin. Take time to know all the facts while always presuming the innocence of the other until proven guilty. Doing all this will help to ensure that our admonitions are seen as the loving actions we intend them to be—meant to help our loved ones live their lives in ways that are pleasing to God. Only then can our efforts be effective in helping to take these ugly specks out of our brothers’ eyes.

Stay awake

First Sunday of Advent Year B

I’m a light sleeper. The slightest disturbance, faintest noise, or tiniest sliver of light would usually awaken me. Perhaps, I am suffering from what doctors call “exploding head syndrome”, imagined loud noises in my head when I am transitioning from consciousness to sleep. Or maybe, I’m just wired to expect the Lord’s unexpected arrival, as He Himself had warned: “So stay awake, because you do not know when the master of the house is coming, evening, midnight, cockcrow, dawn; if he comes unexpectedly, he must not find you asleep.”

But let’s be honest, staying awake for most of us can be exhausting. We need our rest. We need to sleep. We need to regenerate. We have seasons of excitement and whole-hearted devotion, and we have seasons where we fall asleep, even in church. And for many, the homily is as good a time to sleep as any. Perhaps, even the most ideal moment. But today, our Lord issues the warning that we should “Stay awake”, or else suffer the dire consequences of our lack of vigilance. And being caught by the priest is the least of your concerns. Life is short so stay awake for it.

The same requests from the Lord would be made on the night of His betrayal, on the eve of His crucifixion and death. In the garden of Gethsemane, our Lord was deep in prayer, anguished by the “cup” of suffering He was about to drink. He took His inner circle of disciples (Peter, James and John) with Him and told them to “remain here and watch.” Then, while the Lord was in agonising prayer, His closest companions couldn’t stay awake. Three times the Lord returned from praying to find His disciples falling asleep. Three times the Lord orders them to “stay awake.” Three times His disciples fell asleep. It may be some weak consolation in knowing that the Apostles were not immune from dozing off on the job. One could only imagine the frustration and disappointment of the Lord.

Of course, the Lord was talking about more than just avoiding falling asleep while praying. He was giving instruction about our spiritual readiness for His coming. With the repetitive command to stay awake, our Lord spoke to all His disciples throughout the ages, including our generation, about the need to remain alert. I think for us it can become easy to lose our spiritual edge and focus. It is easy to grow complacent, lazy and careless. It doesn’t take much of a lapse in alertness to become desensitised to the spiritual reality upon us by the pseudo-comforting distractions around us. Staying awake spiritually involves looking past the clamour of worldly attractions. It’s about perceiving the presence of the kingdom of heaven growing up quietly and silently after the seeds have been scattered in the garden. It’s about resisting the cultural malady of practical atheism – living as if God did not exist or even if we were to accept that He did, it did not matter in our lives. This is what Advent is meant to accomplish for us - to transform us from spiritual sleepy heads to vigilant stewards, always alert and ready for the master’s return. The question left to consider is how: how can we stay awake?

First, we need to take the words of Christ seriously that He is returning. Many don’t believe in the Parousia, in the return of the Lord. Many believe that this is a bogey man invented by the Church to scare her members into submission. Many leave without giving serious thought that there would be a Day of Judgment, a day where we will be called to account for our actions and decisions. To stay awake means to listen to the Lord and His warning and to take Him seriously at His word.

Second, the Apostle Paul tells us to pray without ceasing. This was the Lord’s exhortation to His disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus tells us to “watch and pray.” If we are to stay awake in the midst of a world in a spiritual stupour, then we need to be diligent in prayer. No wonder Paul advises to “pray without ceasing” (1 Thess. 5:17). In fact, we should be constantly praying for the Lord’s Second Coming as we do whenever we pray the Lord’s Prayer: “thy kingdom come, thy will be done!” There must be urgency in this prayer as Isaiah expressed with these powerfully vivid words: “tear the heavens open and come down!”

Third, staying awake means faithfulness and commitment to the task that has been placed before us. The second parable in today’s gospel reminds us that readiness is measured by people diligently doing their job. The wisest ones are those who consistently try to seek and serve their Lord at every moment of every day. The familiar Advent message to ‘stay awake’ invites us to live humanly to the best of our ability, continuing to do the necessary mundane things faithfully but always with a genuine care for unexpected surprises. We should be striving and praying, as St Paul did in the second reading, that our Lord will “keep you steady and without blame until the last day.”

The person who stays awake and remains faithful is the one who accepts the invitation to keep watch, that is, not let himself be overpowered by the listlessness of discouragement, by the lack of hope, by disappointment; and at the same time it wards off the allure of the many vanities with which the world is brimming and for which, now and then, time and personal and familial peace is sacrificed. It is the painful experience of the people of Israel, whom the Prophet Isaiah was sent to awaken. We too often find ourselves in this situation of unfaithfulness to the call of the Lord: He shows us the good path, the way of faith, the way of love, but we seek our happiness elsewhere.

Listening, praying and remaining faithful won’t tell us when the Lord is coming again, but they will get us ready to receive Him when He comes. Hopefully none of you out there are asleep yet. Hopefully you’ve managed to stay awake through my homily. But if you are asleep, know that God loves you and has sent Christ into the world to save you all the same. But for those who are asleep, He comes as Judge. And if you are asleep, or falling asleep, or peaceful and secure in your faith life, well, it’s time to wake up and come alive. Because what the Church needs are not people who are sleeping on the job but those who are alive and kicking, ever ready to preach the Gospel of Christ through the testimony of their words and actions. So, stay awake!

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!

Love and do what you will

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The slogan, “Love and do what you will” seems more suited on the lips of a libertine than on a saint. We can understand why a libertine would promote this since he is devoid of moral principles except perhaps the most basic moral principle of not doing harm to anyone. In fact, Nike could have even reframed and rebranded the slogan in the form of its famous tagline: “Just Do It.”

Most of you may be surprised and shocked to know that these words were indeed spoken by a saint, and not just any ordinary saint. It is none other than the great Doctor of the West, St Augustine, who wrote extensively on original sin and the necessity of grace for one’s justification. Why would such a great theologian, regarded as only second to St Paul, make such an irresponsible statement that could serve as a license for future generations to “just do it”, seemingly regardless of moral bearings and eternal consequences?

Well, these words would have been irresponsible if St Augustine is saying that as long as you love God, you can go ahead and do pretty much anything you want to, even something sinful, and it’s perfectly okay. Sounds very much like the tagline for advocates of same-sex marriage and other sexual aberrations – “love is love.” But thank God, this is not what Augustine meant. Because of our sinful and fallen nature and without the aid of grace, we can’t “just do it.” That is why the Incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus are essential, if anyone is to have eternal life. Only if we love completely as our Lord has commanded us to do in today’s gospel, then whatever it pleases you to do will be the correct thing to do.

In explaining his point, St Augustine gives several illustrations to highlight two issues which may lead many to confuse genuine love with a self-serving attitude. Firstly, people tend to be easily misled by appearances. Coddling a child may give the impression that you are loving but it could just be a selfish way of winning the child’s confidence and approval. On the other hand, punishing or admonishing a child may seem harsh and unloving but this could actually be an act of loving discipline, hoping that the child will amend his ways. How would we know which is which? St Augustine tells us to look at the motivation. Our actions need to be motivated by love. St Augustine tells us that we can love and do what we will because true love desires only the good of the beloved. Love goes so much farther than simply not hurting anyone. This is often the excuse used to justify sexual sins. “What’s wrong with masturbation or pornography? I’m not hurting anyone?” No, love seeks good. The good of the other and our good too. And all sin continue to hurt God and ourselves, if not others.

St Augustine’s maxim helps us to see how the two parts of the Great Commandment of Love are inseparable. The moment we attempt to separate them and to favour one over the other, the whole thing falls apart.

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

If you love God first and love Him truly and completely, then you will only desire that which is pleasing to Him, you will desire to follow His commandments. To profess that you love God while going against His Will and His Laws will immediately expose you as a liar and a hypocrite. One can never claim to love God while one persists in sinning. St Augustine doesn’t give us a license to do as we want, but a reason to do what God wants - that reason is love.

Our Lord has freed us from the bonds of sin and death. But that freedom is not a license to do as we please. Being free to choose sin is not true freedom. In fact, we can freely choose to enslave ourselves once more to sin. St Paul therefore warns us, “Do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, serve one another through love” (Gal 5:13).

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

Loving our neighbour, especially the poor, the weak, and the marginalised can never just be a dictate of justice. Loving others without rooting it in the love of God eventually ends in a pale surrogate of love, a distortion of true love. This is why the love that our Lord speaks of is not a mere human love. Only if we are anchored in the primary relationship with God can we begin to love others in a wholesome and unselfish way. Without such connexion, our weak attempts at loving end up following the idols of egoism, of power, of dominion, polluting our relations with others, and following paths not of life, but of death.

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

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

The Truth isn't Nice

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love demands judgement

Eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Fr Bonaventure and I take frequent jibes at each other, with criticisms ranging from external appearances to annoying personal quirks. I guess it’s the price we pay for staying together and it keeps Brother Jonathan entertained with our daily Laurel-and-Hardy antics. Married couples would know what I am talking about. At close proximity, every wrinkle would look like a ridge of the Grand Canyon, a blemish like a black wormhole in deep space and a mole like the planet Jupiter. Of course, this is all hyperbole.

We often protest at how others are being judgmental. We hate being judged. But the truth is that, everyone expresses some form of judgmentalism. Accusing someone else of being judgmental merely exposes our own judgmentalism. Aren’t we judging the other when we accuse them of being judgmental? Of course, many of us are fond of excusing ourselves. It’s always “Rules for Thee, but not for me!” But the bigger question should be: “Can we judge without being judgmental?” And the answer is “we most certainly can and we should”.

Firstly, we make judgments all the time. It’s part of being human. If I see water falling from the sky, I make a judgment, “It’s raining.” If I see an attractive girl, I make a judgment, “Wow! She’s really beautiful!” When we choose which outfit to wear for the day, we are making a judgment. All this is stating the obvious, of course. But we also make judgments with regards to what we consider “good” or “bad” for us or even for others. I don’t smoke because I know it’s bad for my health. That’s a judgment. When you see your young child run into the street, you will stop her for fear that she may get run over by a car. That’s making a judgment. But let’s take this a step further. If I see my friend’s husband sleeping around with other women (provided that I have clear proof and not just making a conjecture), can I make a judgment that this is not good for his marriage and family, and that it is not morally good for him too? Can adultery ever be a good thing or is it neutral? And if it is always a bad thing, wouldn’t that be making a judgment?

It is clear from these few examples, that making a judgment is something necessary and is essentially what makes us human. However, though we may make judgments about things, situations and a person’s actions and words, we are in no position to judge their motive or the interior of a person, the heart. Only God can make that judgment. Our Holy Father, Pope Francis gives us an important reminder, “Each person’s situation before God and their life in grace are mysteries which no one can fully know from without.”

Today, we live in a culture that promotes and preaches non-judgmentalism, by which they mean one can never impose one’s own set of morality on another. We would agree that we should not be judgmental, if this means not judging someone’s intention or soul, as we were privy to this. But to choose to suspend all judgment is simply wrong. Judgment is necessary especially when love demands it. And this is love: to will the good of another. Being free of sin and on the road to salvation is the ultimate “good” for the other. Sitting back and saying nothing, however, is not the loving thing to do. Indifference does not equal love. We can be nice and polite to people who make bad choices. We may even tolerate their decisions. But do we really “love” them? In the end, such a mentality of “tolerance” encourages us to be unconcerned about the people around us and neglect our responsibilities toward them.

But that’s not how our Lord lived. Our Lord was anything but indifferent to others. He didn’t say, “who am I to judge? … whatever works for them … different strokes for different folks!” Saying that our Lord never came to judge is one of the most grievous but popular false caricatures of Him. In a way, we are choosing to make Jesus in our image and likeness so that we may justify our actions and make ourselves feel better about our behaviour and lifestyle.

On the contrary, our Lord shows us the two essential sides of love, a soft side of mercy, compassion, and acceptance, and a firm side that constantly calls us to conversion. Truth is not the antithesis of Love or vice versa. Charity seeks truth and truth serves charity. On the one hand, our Lord loved everyone, even in their weaknesses – He came for sinners. On the other hand, our Lord persistently challenged people to repent from evil. And He did this because He loved them and knew they would be happiest when they live according to God’s plan. And that is why admonishing the sinner is a spiritual act of mercy, and not meanness.

At the end of last week’s Gospel, our Lord challenged us: “Be compassionate as your Father in Heaven is compassionate!” True compassion must always be at the heart of judging. That is why it is so important that we recognise and address the plank in our own eye before taking issue with the splinter in our brother’s eye. Our Lord is not asking us to disqualify ourselves from making any judgment, since no one is perfect. Our Lord is setting out a vision of the integrity between what we are and what we say. Being judgmental is actually being inconsistent. We claim the right to judge others but we refuse to be judged. If we face the truth about ourselves (the so-called “plank” in the eye) and acknowledge our own daily struggles with sin, we are less likely to set ourselves up in judgment over others in a “judgmental” sort of a way. If we recognise how much we need God’s mercy, then our hearts will be much more compassionate when we encounter other people’s faults. St Bernard tells us that, “if you have eyes for the shortcomings of your neighbour and not for your own, no feeling of mercy will arise in you but rather indignation. You will be more ready to judge than to help, to crush in the spirit of anger than to instruct in the spirit of gentleness.”

We are called to be judges, but all too often we are unfit to judge. But nevertheless, we must judge between good and evil; we cannot shirk our duties to correct error and to rebuke sin in others. In fact, our Lord gave us an important cue with regards to making judgments – “every tree can be told by its own fruit” which repeats a theme found in the first reading. We can and we should judge, but if we are to judge, we do so based on the actions and words of the other rather than presume that we can read minds and hearts. If we are to judge, let us first judge ourselves. And just as we are called to correct, we must also be open to correction ourselves. Above all, if we are to judge, let us do so with compassion and love, “in the spirit of gentleness”, knowing that all of us would have to meet our Lord on the Last Day, who sits in judgment over both the living and the dead, and He will judge us by using the same measure which we have applied to others.

Never tire of doing what is right

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

I know that this will sound like a rant but I’m going to start off with a rant. So bear with me. I know that many of you can connect with my frustration if you’ve experienced something similar. You go out on a limb, beyond the call of duty, you sincerely wish to help the other, and instead of gratitude, you get flak. You look around for some support and understanding, and you find yourself all alone. You begin to wonder, “Is it worthwhile being good? “Does it pay to do good?”  Well, St Paul gives us the answer: “My brothers and sisters, never grow tired of doing what is right.” (2 Thess. 3:13).

The simplicity of that advice is quite striking. St Paul is wise in recognising the fragility of our resolutions, the wearing down and wearing out of our good intentions in the abrasiveness of daily living and the prevalence of apathy. He understands that it is hard work being good and doing good, especially when all the odds are against us, when there is little appreciation shown by others but instead, we face opposition at every turn, especially when we are attempting to do what is right. But that’s the advice given by St Paul, which is his advice to the Thessalonians in today's second reading and it is strangely and unfortunately missing from the lectionary.

It actually takes the virtue of courage and patience to stick to what is right over time. Courage in putting up with the hassle, bustle, the inertia, and all the various frustrations of life, with a determined, strong-minded, never slacking perseverance. We Christians see this virtue as a divine gift coming from God and not from ourselves. It flows from the divine gift of Hope.  Hope in God and trust in the active presence of the risen Christ and His Holy Spirit; in the gifts of the sacraments, the Scriptures, the whole Christian life and in the Church. Although Christian Hope finds its fulfilment in the future, its dynamic is a matter of the here and now, of the present, although not yet “on earth as it is in heaven.” The hope and joy of the kingdom exists here and now, but sometimes it does seem to get blurred especially when we are confronted with the present realities which seem hopeless.

If the Church is indeed a “sign” of hope, how come it doesn’t feel like it these days? Our Church has been wracked with so many controversial headlines in the news, the scandalous clergy sexual abuse, claims of financial mismanagement and even misappropriation, we seem beset by news of so many worrying developments in Rome and elsewhere, we are most aware of the partisan infighting among the Church hierarchy and wonder whether any of the criticisms, accusations of heresy and schism have some bearing of truth. When the anchor of our faith and hope is attacked from without and within, whom or what should we turn to for guidance or direction?

Today’s gospel is an important reminder that our chaotic and troubled times are not something unique. We’ve been here before, more times than we can remember or imagine. The passage begins with some people admiring the beauty of the Jerusalem temple.  The majesty of the architecture and the stonework of the House of God is praised.  But like the prophet Jeremiah, before him the Lord prophesies that “not a stone will be left upon a stone” (which is a reminder that this is not to be the first time the temple would be reduced to rubble), Our Lord goes on to foretell of wars and the violence and civil unrest which will take place in the coming decades. The Temple will be destroyed by the Romans in A.D. 70.

The destruction of the Temple, the religious centre and most important icon of the Jewish faith, felt like the end of the world. The disciples of our Lord and the early Christians felt this way too. No wonder the disciples, who must have been shocked with our Lord’s prophecy, proceeded to ask Him how they can tell when this is about to happen. However, the way they put the question reveals that they are under the misconception that the destruction of the Temple happens at the end of the age. Our Lord begins to clear up their misunderstanding by explaining that the destruction of the Temple and the end of the age are in fact two separate events. There are going to be wars and rumours of wars, natural and man-made catastrophes and people are going to claim it is the end of the world and that He is coming, but they are all going to be wrong—every single last one of them. Those aren’t signs of the end. If anything, they are signs of the beginning of a new age, the Christian era, not its ending.

Actually, when you think about it, if wars and rumours of wars, cataclysmic catastrophes are signs of anything, they are just signs of business as usual. There has never been a time without wars and catastrophes somewhere. You might as well say that the end of the age will happen on any day which appears on the calendar. Every single time there is news of this and that, with so many speculating that THIS  is the end of the world, but it always turns out that it isn’t. In fact, before we even get near the end of the age, there is going to be a time of persecution. The Church throughout the centuries remains a persecuted Church. Throughout human history, there is going to be suffering, disease, dislocation, intolerance, persecution, natural disasters, schisms, heresies, wars, and all sorts of unpleasantness, but unfortunately, that is the human condition from which our Lord redeems us, it is not a sign of the end.

So our Lord is pleading with us today to persevere in the faith, even in the midst of all the terrible calamities. He is telling us to expect this as part of life. “When disaster strikes, don't give up! When the world seems to be on the verge of collapse, don’t panic! And when everything within the Church seems to have gone mad, it doesn’t mean it’s the End– well, not yet, at least, not for now! What’s important - keep My Word; the Kingdom of God will come in its fullness; nothing can defeat God's purposes; no evil force can ultimately thwart God's plan for your fulfillment.” The key is to cling to your faith no matter what – “Your endurance will win you your lives!” Your life is like a small boat being tossed about in a great storm, there’s bound to be turbulence. You have to ride out the storm, and the best way to get through it without falling overboard is to cling to the mast—Jesus Christ. This too is what Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI wishes to convey to us, “Being an 'Adult' means having a faith which does not follow the waves of today's fashions or the latest novelties. A faith which is deeply rooted in friendship with Christ, is adult and mature. It is this friendship which opens us up to all that is good and gives us the knowledge to judge true from false, and deceit from truth.”

In these disconsolate days, Christ calls us now, in our time, to become courageous and patient and faithful bearers of hope and joy. The Christian vision does not deny the reality of evil, of brokenness, of suffering and sorrow, and the fragility of goodness. But we should not fall prey to hopelessness and resign ourselves to doing nothing. We should not let life’s difficulties cause us to give up and put us on the sidelines. Christians are to avoid Utopian dreams on the one hand and cynical despair and weariness on the other. The vast majority of “doing good” happens not in the limelight to be celebrated by thousands, but in the private, unobserved place where God’s kingdom goes forward and eventually turns the world upside down. Doing good is not like the flash and sizzle of fireworks, but the slow, organic growth of a sapling into a tree.  As disciples of the Lord we are called not only to confront evil and even to suffer under it, but also to curtail its power; and to cherish signs of life and light and love and help them to flourish. As St Paul reminds us, “my brothers and sisters never grow tired of doing what is right.”

Man is wisest when he turns to God

Twenty Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

“So clever! So clever” so says the astute Fr Dominic. He is of course referring to how some people (priests included) are able to wrangle themselves out of work commitments by the flimsiest of excuses. What augments their “cleverness” is that they often push the buck to others, and poor Fr Dominic often ends up “covering” for them, which makes him lament his own condition, “So stupid! So stupid!”

The “cleverness” of the steward in today’s parable seems apparent and yet for us Christians, seem utterly disturbing and even scandalising. The steward who was called to account for having wasted his rich landlord’s property chooses fraud as the “clever” way out. He finds a way to extricate himself at the last minute from the mess – his clever and dubious calculations consist in ensuring that, when he loses his position, he will find refuge with those whom he had helped, those whose debts he had written off. We can imagine him congratulating himself, “So clever! So clever! I’m so clever!” Far from being inspiring, the behaviour of the steward may actually invoke disgust in many of us. But instead of cautioning His disciples to stay away from such unscrupulous behaviour, our Lord does the shocking and unthinkable; He commends the steward and offers him as a model for discipleship!

On the surface it looks like the Lord is extoling the dishonesty of the steward. Yet when we hear what follows we recognise that He is not using the dishonest servant to give the disciples an example to follow regarding dishonest wealth; rather, He is making a comparison and calling to greater commitment to discipleship.

He uses the parable and the character of the dishonest servant to demonstrate the great extent someone will go to, so that they may preserve their status or wealth or position. The dishonest servant goes to great effort, albeit dishonest and corrupt; to cover up his duplicity and greed, and thereby maintaining his job and ill-gained wealth. The dishonest servant, when he learns of his master’s intention, contemplates his situation, makes a plan then immediately acts to complete it. All this, just to maintain something that is not only ill gained but is fleeting and temporary. The point is, “bad” people are often “clever” people. Their cleverness helps them to see a goal and to go after it. Yet they are foiled because they are looking for something which is a pale imitation of the real good. Being clever isn’t clever enough if it brings us nowhere closer to our ultimate goal – eternal life and heaven.

Jesus uses the parable to have His disciples — that includes us — to reflect on the efforts we make not so much with wealth, position or status but the things that really matter in life. Survival was the driving force behind the servant’s life. For us, attaining salvation should be our primary motivation in every action, every decision, every planning and every enterprise of ours.

Being a good Christian does not mean that you have to be a bad manager, a bad worker, a poor student, or someone who “sucks” at managing your personal and worldly affairs. What Christians should learn from this dishonest steward is that their actions and decisions must be intentional and purposeful. Every action, deed, decision and word, should ultimately be geared towards winning a place in the “tents of eternity.”

The last four statements our Lord makes about money insist on trustworthiness in money matters even in the Church, for money entrusted to the Church for good purposes must be administered conscientiously. So it is not a case of 'God is good, money is bad'; in fact, not even of 'money is good, but God is better'. Rather, money is good, and God is the source of that goodness, the meaning and perfection of all goodness. That is why canon law stipulates that the temporal goods of the Church are to be used especially for the following in descending order: “the regulation of divine worship, the provision of fitting support for the clergy and other ministers, and the carrying out of works of the sacred apostolate and of charity, especially for the needy.”  

Yet money is tainted. Not in itself, but because of what we human beings have made of our world. We have made a world in which people can so easily become enslaved to money - to greed. Those who have enslaved themselves to money have thereby failed to put it to the good work for which it is intended, and instead drawn others into that terrible slavery. Even ministers of the Church have not been spared and thus today’s readings call us to practice good stewardship of the temporal goods of the Church. Ultimately, our Lord is giving us a powerful reminder: God and money cannot share dominion – where one is king, the other must become the subject. If God is king, then our material goods and possessions, money, ambition, cannot rule us. “No man can serve two masters……You cannot be slave both of God and money”. The Beatles, though hardly exemplary Christians, understood the wisdom of this when they sang, “I don't care too much for money, money can't buy me love.”

To be “clever” is to be astute, and to be “astute” is to have foresight. Only fools do not see what’s coming and fail to plan and prepare for the eventuality of disaster. Foresight is the mark of wise discipleship. As the steward was forewarned that his service was about to be terminated, so are we forewarned that our death could come at any moment. A fool would think that “tomorrow” is guaranteed, he is deluded into thinking that he can live forever and so continues to waste every opportunity accorded to him to make amends of his life in order to avert the doom that comes with the Final Judgment. A fool aspires and plans for a more secure future, a better job, and more fulfilling relationships, yet he forgets that he can lose all these things in an instance. We should, therefore, wisely make decisions and plan not just for a better and more comfortable earthly life, but for the heavenly life which we hope for.

In the case of the crafty steward in the parable, he was able to come to his senses before the end. This too is a lesson that we Christians and others can and should learn. We may have started on a wrong footing, just like the shrewd and crafty steward, but this need not be how our story ends. Repentance can help us rewrite the end of the story, all our stories. The road to redemption is always open for passage before we arrive at the end of our journey. Once, we’ve come to the “dead end” of our lives, there will be no more chances to repent, no more openings to change direction, no further opportunities to make a U-Turn. But until then, God, in His Mercy, offers us countless opportunities to make amends and change the course of our lives – to choose the road that leads to salvation instead of perdition. The most intelligent thing an intelligent human being can do is to turn to God, not away from Him. Wise men still seek Him, wiser men find Him, and the wisest come to worship Him.