If the Lord does not build the House

Pentecost Vigil

This Millenium church whose dedication we celebrate today is certainly a source of pride for parishioners of Holy Family. If there is a Book of Guinness Records for the Catholic Church, we could boast of making the list not just in one category but several. First, we were the first fully air-conditioned church in the archdiocese, the envy of other parishes as their congregants continued to sweat in the sweltering tropical heat of Malaysia. Second, we are the largest church building with the biggest capacity in the Archdiocese of Kuala Lumpur, perhaps even in the whole of Peninsular Malaysia, an accolade that has yet remained unchallenged till this day. This has allowed us to host many Archdiocesan and even national Catholic events, and this church has often been referred to as the unofficial “co-cathedral” of the Archdiocese of Kuala Lumpur. Third, no other new church has come anywhere close to the cost of construction for this church. We cannot boast of being the most expensive but I guess we will not be unseated as the cheapest newest church in the region, certainly a tribute to the designers and project building managers and the fiscal genius of Fr Leo Chang and his team.

But today, the first reading of our Vigil Mass comes as a strong caution even as we celebrate the anniversary of the dedication of this church, the “work of human hands.” The technological and civilisational advancement of the people who built the Tower of Babel had no contemporary equivalent or rival. The Tower of Babel was a monument to human ingenuity, to their great civilisation which were united by a single language and skills that could build skyscrapers instead of the stone masonry of their contemporaries. But what was their ultimate goal? What was their motivation? The text explains: “Let us make a name for ourselves.” Pride was their motivation and pride would be their downfall.

The story of the fall of Babel is a reminder to us that when we use our skill and unity to thumb our noses at God, steal His glory and attempt to make a name for ourselves, we will wrought our own downfall. We have swapped the worship of the Creator for the worship of our own handiwork. That is why God’s judgement to break their unity and scatter them into different languages and cultures, is not done out of spite, or to punish us, but to save us.

On the eve of Pentecost, which some have incorrectly labelled as the birthday of the Church (the Church was born from the open wound of our Lord on Good Friday but manifested herself on Pentecost), it is good for us to remember what the Church symbolises for us. We have often been reminded ad nauseum that “the Church is not a building.” But to totally devalue the church building as a sacred place, a House of God, a primary sacramental of our Catholic faith, is to reject our very identity as members of the Mystical Body of Christ.

A church building is meant to be understood as a place for expressing the character of God. The building itself, like all of creation, was meant to help human beings know their Creator. Influenced by Protestants and post-modern thought, however, many Catholics — have forsaken or neglected this notion and purpose. Church buildings have become less about the character of their Creator and more about the social interactions of the creatures. Instead of a house that speaks and sings praises of the glory of the Almighty God, our churches have become temples to human ingenuity, mere auditoriums for human performances where we get to “make a name for ourselves.” Instead of proclaiming the greatness of God, we have often stressed the utility, functionality, and practicality of a church building.

But let us not forget the incisive opening words of Psalm 127 where we are reminded, “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do its builders labour" (v. 1). Indeed, a strong community is born from the commitment of all its members, but it needs the blessing and support of that God who, unfortunately, is too often excluded or ignored. Without God, we can do nothing which is lasting: without the Lord, in vain do we labour. But with the Lord, instead, we will be a Church that is constantly renewed in faith, spirit, communal life and fervour for mission.

Without the Holy Spirit, the parish is just an empty shell, a lifeless conglomerate of persons, and not a community. But with the Holy Spirit, a community made up of different cultures, languages and ages can become a life-giving, faith inspiring and mission-oriented Church. The Venerable Bishop Fulton J. Sheen once said about the church that even though we are God's chosen people, we often behave more like God's frozen people. God's frozen people indeed: frozen in our prayer life, frozen in the way we relate with one another, frozen in the way we celebrate our faith. We don't seem to be happy to be in God's house; we are always in a hurry to get it over and done with as soon as possible. Today is a great day to ask the Holy Spirit to rekindle in us the spirit of new life and enthusiasm, the fire of God's love, so that our faith, our spiritual life, our community and our zeal for mission may be renewed!

Truly, Really, Substantially Present

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ

Two weeks ago, we celebrated the Solemnity of the Pentecost. And as our Lord had promised, the Holy Spirit is given to the Church, to us, so that we can be led to the complete Truth. Before the Apostles received the Holy Spirit, much of what our Lord had taught them remained a fuzzy mystery. They not only struggled in their understanding but also in their faith. But with the coming of the Spirit of Truth, their understanding and imagination were now expanded beyond their natural capacity.

Beginning with last Sunday, the Church invites us to contemplate a series of the most profound mysteries of faith. Last Sunday, we contemplated the central mystery of our faith - the Most Holy Trinity - One God in three distinct persons - a mystery which is bigger than the universe and escapes rationalising by even the most erudite geniuses on this earth. But the mysteries of faith do not only come in mega cosmic proportions like the dogma of the Holy Trinity; they can also be found in the seemingly unimpressive and mundane objects of our world. This week, we are asked to focus on something equally baffling, though tangible at the same time. It is the Most Holy Eucharist - that is our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ fully present, truly, really, substantially, body and blood, soul and divinity in the Holy Eucharist.

The real presence takes the human mind to the very limits of its capacity. After the consecration, the priest at every Mass proclaims that the Eucharist is a mysterium fidei, a mystery of faith. In the end we have to acknowledge that the mystery is ineffable and should be greeted with wonder and amazement. It is a truth that only the mind of God can fully understand. Nevertheless, God in His love has revealed this truth to us. God has not revealed Himself simply to mystify us, but to save us. “Unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink His blood, you do not have life within you.” (John 6:52).

The Church accepts the real presence as a matter of faith, because it is contained in the Word of God, as attested by Scripture and tradition. Our Lord said clearly as we had heard in today’s gospel, “This is my body ... this is my blood”, and in the controversy surrounding His teachings on the Bread of Life, He insisted that He was not just using metaphors. “My flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him”. (Jn 6: 55-56) Many of the disciples found this saying difficult to accept and chose to part company with Him, but our Lord refused to revise His audacious claims to win them back. The Fathers and Doctors of the Church have confidently proclaimed the real presence century after century, notwithstanding objections and misconceptions. The Council of Trent defended this belief against the incredulity of the Protestants and gave a full exposition of the Catholic doctrine of the Eucharist and that of the Real Presence.

In describing Christ’s presence in this sacrament, the Council of Trent used three adverbs, “truly, really, and substantially”. These three adverbs are the keys that help us understand and explain the nature of Christ’s Eucharistic Presence. They may appear to be repetitive and superfluous, but each adverb takes us beyond another layer of truth.

“Truly” is a common word often used by the Lord in the Fourth Gospel. It translates from the Hebrew “Amen.” In saying that Christ is truly contained under the Eucharistic species, the Council repudiated the Protestant argument. The Eucharist is not a mere sign or figure pointing to a body that is absent, perhaps somewhere in the heavens. Christ’s body and blood are “truly”, not symbolically nor figuratively present in the consecrated bread and wine.

Secondly, the presence is real. That is to say, it is objectively real. It is objective because it does not depend on the thoughts or feelings of the minister or the communicants. The body and blood of Christ are present in the sacrament because of the promise of Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, by the words and actions of a duly ordained minister. In so teaching that the presence is “real,” the Church rejects the view that faith is the instrument that brings about Christ’s presence in the sacrament. Faith does not make Christ present. Christ is present when the priest speaks the word of consecration over the bread and wine. But faith is needed if we want Christ’s presence to bear fruit within us. To receive the sacrament without faith is unprofitable, even sinful, but the lack of faith does not render the presence unreal. To put it simply, Christ being present in the Eucharist does not depend on you or your feelings. But how the Eucharist affects you, depends on you. So, if you see no changes in yourself after attending Mass and receiving Holy Communion, don’t blame Christ. You have only yourself to blame.

Thirdly, the Church teaches us that Christ’s presence in the sacrament is substantial. “Substance” denotes the basic reality of the thing, i.e., what it is in itself. For example, I am in substance a human being, a man. The white grainy stuff which I eat every day is substantially rice. Although appearances may change, for example water can take various forms (it can be solid as in ice, gaseous as in steam or fluid), its substance remains the same – it is still water but under different forms. Water is “transformed.” But what happens at the consecration is different. After consecration, the bread and wine are changed; but not “transformed” in the sense that the consecrated species will still look like and taste like, bread and wine. But there is a substantial change in that they cease to be what they were and become what they were not. The consecrated bread may still look like bread and taste like bread, likewise with the wine, but they are no longer bread and wine. They are now Christ’s body and blood in substance. The Church has coined the unique term “transubstantiation” to designate this process.

Although the mystery of the real presence certainly stretches our powers of comprehension to the utmost, just like the dogma of the Most Holy Trinity, it is not simply a puzzle meant to test us or condemn us to eternal confusion. Rather, it is a consoling sign of the love, power, and ingenuity of our Divine Saviour. He willed to bring Himself into intimate union with Christians, and to do so in a way that suits our nature as embodied spirits; beings needing both physical nourishment for our survival, and spiritual refreshment for eternal life.

Finally, the Eucharist instituted by Christ invites us to look in two directions - to call to mind the crucifixion of Christ, who shed His blood for our redemption and to prefigure the everlasting banquet of the blessed in the heavenly Jerusalem. The Eucharist has the singular power to recapture the past, transform the present, and anticipate the future because it contains the Lord of history truly, really, and substantially, body and blood, soul and divinity.

Homily for Parish Feast of Corpus Christi Day 2: "The Church is Catholic: Being Rich in Mercy"

Guest Preacher: Fr Simon Yong SJ

Those who came last night, well, that was your rebate: a short homily. See, I am like the Government, give a small rebate (like Kedai1M or BaucarBuku1M) and then bang you somewhere else (like 6%GST). Today is a longer homily and a continuation of yesterday’s.

I began last night with an observation about cut Pandan leaves. If you are interested, Google, Infiorate di Spello. It is an Umbrian town in Italy renowned for its floral arrangements during Corpus Christi. The best tag to describe what they do is “Spare No Effort”. Take a look at the images that you Googled and you will be amazed by the intricacies of the floral arrangements. They are what you might call the “Before” pictures because the moment the Procession of the Blessed Sacrament passes by, the floral creations are stepped on and they are gone. To those who are sensitive, this surely feels like a scandalous waste.

The finale to the Novena is the theme Being Rich in Mercy. The theme can have two meanings. Firstly, it could be a description of God. If it is a description of God, then, there is a ring of redundancy to it because God’s mercy is always rich—as we heard in today’s Gospel. He fed not only 5000 but presumably the spouses and children of the 5000 men. Listen to the Collect from the 3^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time. It is taken from the previous missal which uses a dynamic equivalent approach when translating from the original Latin.

Almighty Father, the love you offer always exceeds the furthest expression of our human longing, for you are greater than the human heart. Direct each thought, each effort of our life, so that the limit of our faults and weaknesses may not obscure the vision of your glory or keep us from the peace you have promised.

Sacred Scriptures brim with instances of God’s abundant mercies. In fact, the Parable of the Prodigal Son has often been renamed as the Parable of the Prodigal Father to highlight the quality of God’s mercy as always more than we can think. Thus, the Collect evokes the unlimited response that God is inviting us to which brings me to the second meaning.

The theme is more an invitation to respond than a description of God’s prodigality. If it is an invitation, then, the call is to be merciful as the title of this Year suggests. Merciful like the Father is an invitation to be as merciful as the Father is.

The Latin term magnum opus is used to designate a piece of great work. For example, which do you think is Beethoven’s magnum opus? The 6^th Symphony? The point is that in terms of our response to God, it is not because we are incapable of magnum opus. Instead, many amongst us are “Judasians”, if there were such a word. The spiritual descendants of Judas are legionary.

I consciously used the word feasible last night. It is not feasible to do such a thing in Malaysia, like lining the entire processional route with flower. It would most certainly be a scandal to many people because it is wanton wastage.

But, really extravagance is truly a symbol of love. In fact, God’s middle name is extravagance. Mirrored in the image and like of God, extravagance is the symphony of a generous of heart. The great Cathedrals of Europe are testaments of this kind of generosity and also an indication that we recognise not only God’s rule or God’s sovereignty but we can image God’s magnificent mercy. This is exemplified by the woman who along with breaking an expensive alabaster jar of pure nard to anoint the feet of Christ the Lord, also damped them with her tears and wiped them with her hair. She was not afraid of God’s mercy because she trusted in Him. Quite unlike for Judas. The fear of God’s mercy was the response of Judas which explains why, instead of taking the route of Peter, he hung himself in despair of God’s mercy.

However, today our response these days may not be directly from a despair of God’s mercy but rather it is circumscribed by a fear of inadequacy. There is not enough for ourselves and certainly not enough for God. It is interesting though that this fear of shortage is sometimes expressed through opulence and ostentation. Like an unnamed official who built a RM24M- mansion just a little too big for he and wife’s needs. What about acquiring a legendary 2999 pairs of shoes too many or last count, my favourite fat cow’s 11 Hermès Birkin handbags. A display of ostentatious opulence for self and not for God will always come across as ugly and distasteful. As the case may be, dictators who build monuments to themselves are mostly notorious for their infamy.

If fear is not the reason for our restrained response, perhaps the crave for comfort and calculative convenience might explain our present “Judasian” spirituality. Once a person expressed this opinion whilst discussing the building a new church. He said, “The church is for our use and so our needs should determine how the building should be like”. It is true that the church is built for our use. But, a church building is also sacramental in the sense that it expresses what it means to praise, worship and glorify God and by that we are saved. A church built, according to the principle of accommodating our needs first might purely be a convenient construction for self-worship and not only that. When we are calculative with God, then whatever we do for Him will be tainted by an impurity of heart: what will I get for what I do for God?

A priest, whom you may have gone to for confession, has this reputation as a Touch-and-Go priest because before you can finish rattling off (not even listing) your sins, he is already making the hand gesture of the Absolution. His queue was always the fastest and the shortest. All my years as parish priest, I tried to rush through Mass at a pace that makes it just a little short of passing through Smart-Tag. A bit more like a Touch-and-Go, perhaps? Why? Cut this and cut that because they feel redundant and unnecessary. Finish Mass fast so that people can go off. A long Mass is just really inconvenient and then there is always the excuse that we have to let people out before the next wave comes in.

I am sure you must have heard this a lot: The Eucharist is the Source and Summit of Christian life. This makes Sunday a holy day of obligation dedicated to the Lord. But, our actions belie our “Judasian” behaviour. When Judas plotted to have Jesus arrested, he sealed it with a kiss. The kiss as it were, got the act over and done with. In a sense, Sunday can also be an obligation to get-it-over-and-done-with. I know of a parish where the Sunset Mass is packed with people who because they have kept the “let-us-get-it-over-and-be-done-with” to the last minute, they come and often leave at Communion time.

Judas was not rich and that 30 pieces of silver did not represent his acquisitive greed. His was a heart miserly and miserable. Our measure of love for God will be our measure of love for each other. It is not really our forgiveness of others that measures our love for God. Jesus’ right relationship with His Father became the standard of His relationship with the world.

So, the road to a mercy extravagant requires that we free our relationship with God from the clutches of convenience, comfort, feasibility and the fear of inadequacy. The sea of flowers or even the daring wastage of the flowers is indicative of who God is and the length we go to in our love for Him will bear fruits of charity and mercy. This is one way of expressing the principle of sacramentality. Love is shown in deeds rather than in words. When we are tight-fisted with God whom we cannot perceive then we will often be miserly towards those whom we can see. There is a correlation between a deep love for God expressed through an untiring missionary outreach and a corresponding link between a compliant love for God that fulfils the minimum necessity of obligation.

In the Philippines, an eminent Jesuit psychologist came up with this term to describe a Filipino reality. A taxi driver, festooned with all the paraphernalia of Catholicism, rosaries, not one but a few hanging from the rear-view of his Taxi, Perpetual Succour stickers and every name of Mary you can find are pasted on the dashboard. You climb into this most Catholic of taxis and the driver asks you, “Sir, you want girls. Or boys”?

He calls it “Split-level Christianity”. Truth is, this phenomenon is not restricted to Filipinos. So, ang mga pinoy dito, huwag kang mag-alala. Hindi ako mapanlait ka”. There is no need to insult the Filipinos because everyone here suffers from some forms of schizophrenia. For example, the servers here. They are orderly in the way they process and carry out their duties. It is most pleasant visually but go to their rooms and you will probably find chaos—sweaty smelly gym gears strewn all over the floor etc. I am not saying they are untidy because I have never visited their rooms. The point is, we proclaim our love for love God but our lives frequently do not reflect it. It is basically a matter of degree how big the gap is between what we believe and how we live our lives. Conversion is the tough work of narrowing that gap.

Yesterday, I witness evidence of extravagance at work especially in the days running up to the Procession last night. There was an outpouring of generosity in accompanying the Lord as He leads us to heaven. Here, I also want to make an apologetic digression about a person whom I think gets it or is more clued in on the idea of the extravagance of generosity. A few days ago, I told a Jesuit joke and said that your parish priest does not look holy but he is. His work ethics certainly reveal an understated holiness. I pray that God canonises him because I am not. I am purely making an observation. He drops practically everything when there is an emergency. He goes to wakes and takes time to hear confession until 1 or 2 am. You can say, he is doing what he is supposed to do, so what? Well, I cannot do what he does. I do not offer to hear confessions at wakes or I definitely do not drop everything immediately when there is an emergency. The truth is, I wish I could be more like him. And I can safely say that many priests like me would do just the necessary. This is not a pissing contest but really an indication that for a person to be able to do more than what is necessary, it is an indication[1] that his or her love for God is the motivating drive to reach the furthest ends of the earth.

And for us, like it or not, the road to a mercy rich and extravagant begins humbly with what we often take for granted or even complained about: The uselessness of the Liturgy. Here and there in the homilies, I pointed this out. Once again, I return to your servers. The servers’ deliberate style, even the candlesticks on the altar which you will be hard-pressed to find in other parishes, the men who are formally dressed and the women who have their heads covered, all these are but indications of “uselessness” or “inconvenience” or “wastage”. In a way, the slowing down of time, the demarcation between sacred and profane spaces through dressing or veiling, they could be symbolic acts against the encroachment of utilitarianism. Whatever is done here has no benefits except that the actions represent a recognition of who God is and without any thoughts of the benefits. We worship God because we want to and not because we have to. If you do not come to Mass on Sunday, God is not going to strike you down or make you have a car accident. But, if you come, it is an indication that this seemingly useless ritual is an expression of your love for Him. If there is anything that can be said of last night’s procession, it is this. That which is most useless is that which saves us.

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[1] Of course, wanting to do more could also come from an impure motive. Like, doing more not for God’s glory but for the praise of fellowmen.

Homily for Parish Feast of Corpus Christi Day 1: "The Church is Catholic: Being Rich in Mercy"

Guest Preacher: Fr Simon Yong SJ

I have a two-part homily. First half is today. Tomorrow the other half.

What is so special about today? A lot of Screwpine leaves have been cut. We are lucky that nature has endowed the Pandan with such an unbelievable fragrance that the chopped leaves can substitute for expensive petals.

Firstly, a short history of the Solemnitas Sanctissimi Corporis et Sanguinis Christi.

If we were to commemorate this feast, the most appropriate day should be Holy Thursday as it marks the day the Sacrament of the most holy Eucharist was instituted. But, on Maundy Thursday, the Church must accompany her Lord in His Passion that it is not possible to celebrate Corpus Christi as a festivity. The next free Thursday is after Pentecost but at one time in Church calendar, Pentecost itself had an octave. So, finally, the Church settled on the next Thursday available which is after Trinity Sunday. For the Bishops’ Conference of Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei, since Corpus Christ is not a Day of Obligation, it is transferred to a Sunday.

Secondly, it is not that old a practice—probably 800 years old. Tradition has it that a 13th century nun, St Juliana of Liège, who had developed a strong devotion to the Blessed Sacrament, initiated a form of commemorating the Body and Blood of Christ. Pope Urban IV, in response to a Eucharistic miracle that took place in Orvieto, commanded its universal observance in AD1264. St Thomas Aquinas composed the Pange Lingua (Sing my tongue, the Saviour's glory) of which the last two stanzas form the familiar Tantum Ergo (Down in Adoration) we sing at the end of the Benediction.

Last night, a point was made that there are nuances to the notion we use rather freely: The Body of Christ. For example, the Altar is a symbol of the Body of Christ that at the Consecration, Jesus is all at once, Priest through the ordained minister, the Victim offered in the Bread and Wine and finally He is the Altar of Sacrifice. And there is more. At Mass, the Body of Christ, meaning you and me, gather to witness the changing of the substances of Bread and Wine into the substance of the Body of Christ and the Body of Christ also partakes of the sacred Body of Christ. At Mass, therefore, the faithful signals that they, even though belonging to the Mystical Body of Christ would very much like to be transformed into the likeness of Christ Himself. Though sinners, we are bound together in the one desire to be like Christ and this is actualised by the fact that a priest can be processing next to a prostitute, a preacher next to a sinner, a philosopher next to a coolie. The stations we have remind us that that salvation must reach the four corners of the world.

There is a two-way process involved in eating and it is best described by the word assimilation. When you eat non-stop, the assimilation takes place through the process of absorption. If you feast on two super-sized McDonald's Quarter-pounders, breakfast, tea, lunch, tea, dinner and supper, you can be sure, Kungfu Panda will lose to you in cuteness. Or like the Borg in Star Trek, "Resistance is futile", the Borg grows in size through assimilation. But, the process of assimilation is different when we partake of the Eucharist. Assimilation is the growing in likeness as in growing in similarity. We become more like Christ.

Today, another expression of assimilation takes place and it is through the Procession. 

There is a pilgrimage which is famous that has attracted thousands who do not even believe. It is known as the Camino Santiago or the St James’ Way. For whatever reasons people embark on a pilgrimage, for us Catholics, pilgrimages are sacramental because they represent our life’s journey. If you think about it, for many of us, our life's pilgrimage resembles more of a funeral procession, as if, we carry death on our shoulders.

But, life’s journey has a goal. You may have heard it said that, the journey is the goal but in the Eucharistic procession, the journey is not the goal. Instead, the procession simulates the pilgrimage of life as we make our way to heaven in the company of no less than God Himself. So, as we carry the Lord in the Blessed Sacrament, we are also witnessing to an unbelieving world that we bear in our hearts the hope for heaven. This may be a lacrimarum vale, a valley of tears—for we are exiled children of Eve. We pine and we toil. But, we are not defeated. No matter how difficult life is, He comes to join us in this journey home. Finally, we are full of ourselves. I am full of myself. The procession reminds me that this journey I make is together with the Lord. It is not a test of my strength but a challenge of my faith and trust in Him. He is with us. We fear not.