Priest, Prophet and King

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A

Good Shepherd Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Fool's Feast

Maundy Thursday

I believe that none of you would need to be reminded that yesterday, the 1st of April, was April Fool’s Day. It’s a day when we traditionally pull pranks on each other, not maliciously but in jest. If a day’s pranking was not enough, sometimes it spills over to the remainder of the week. But sometimes pranks can test the limits of friendship. People can be the best of friends before this but after having suffered a prank in bad taste, even the closest of friends can from henceforth become sworn enemies.

How the world judges our actions as foolish is exactly how the world judges Christians from the early centuries of the Church until present day. Our liturgical celebrations, though it may not seem to be so, always had a certain edge to them, like those who engage in extreme sports who court death as they experience a rush of adrenaline. You may find this unbelievable. How could the Mass, which so many find boring, be a dance with death? Perhaps, the only danger we could perceive is to die of boredom.

We often forget the context of today’s celebration. Today we commemorate the Lord’s Last Supper, a Passover Feast and tomorrow, we commemorate His death. They are not two different events but a single one, for what our Lord celebrated today at His Last Supper, He will complete on the cross. The Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the Mass of the ages is a bloodless re-enactment, re-presentation of the gruesome bloody sacrifice of our Lord at Calvary. Risk, death and danger have always been part of the DNA of the Holy Mass from the moment of its institution.

The juxtaposition of celebration and death is a constant reminder that the Church of Christ, our Church, is indeed a Church of Eucharistic fools because Christians were willing to do the craziest things in order to receive the most precious thing that could sustain them, not just in this life but for eternity. For example, there is the amazing story of the courageous martyrs of Abitene (in modern-day Tunisia). In 303, forty-nine Christians suffered torture and martyrdom because they defied the Roman Emperor’s order not to celebrate the Eucharist on Sunday. Despite this cruel law and the real prospect of death, this group of Christians risked everything to gather for Mass. When asked by the magistrate why they had disobeyed the emperor and put themselves at risk, one of them defiantly said, “Sine dominico non possumus” — “Without Sunday, we cannot live.” “Without the Eucharist, we cannot live.”

In fact, for nearly 2,000 years, Christians have risked their lives to participate at Holy Mass. During the Reformation in England, priests were martyred when caught offering Holy Mass clandestinely for English Catholics. Courageous lay people who gave their homes over as places of Catholic worship, and who harboured priests, suffered torture and death. This trend continued over the centuries. In the Twentieth century, Catholics in former Communist countries like the Soviet Union or Vietnam were persecuted for practicing their faith. Today, in places such as Egypt, China, North Korea, Iraq, Sudan, Saudi Arabia and countless other areas, Catholics risk their lives and travel for hours to attend Mass.

We rejoice that, unlike those in poor areas, we do not have to walk for miles, over hills or on dirt roads to attend. The vast majority of us can make a short drive to arrive at our beloved parish. In fact, we are spoilt for choices. But the ease, convenience, and accessibility of the Mass should not cause us to ever lose sight that the Mass is so precious that many of our Catholic brothers and sisters around the world are braving great inconvenience and persecution to receive what we, by God’s love, have available near us.

In his first Holy Thursday letter to priests, Pope Saint John Paul II touchingly recalled situations of the faith triumphing over persecution from his own personal experience of living under religious oppression, at a time when the priests were rounded up and there were none left to celebrate the Eucharist: “Sometimes it happens that [the lay faithful] meet in an abandoned shrine, and place on the altar a stole which they keep, and recite all the prayers of the Eucharistic liturgy: and then, at the moment that corresponds to the transubstantiation a deep silence comes down upon them, a silence sometimes broken by a sob … so ardently do they desire to hear the words that only the lips of a priest can efficaciously utter.”

I would like to close this evening with the words of Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, at the 2005 World Youth Day in Cologne Germany:

“The Eucharist must become the centre of our lives. … This is because the Eucharist releases the joy that we need so much, and we must learn to grasp it ever more deeply, we must learn to love it. Let us pledge ourselves to do this – it is worth the effort! Let us discover the intimate riches of the Church’s liturgy and its true greatness: it is not we who are celebrating for ourselves, but it is the living God Himself who is preparing a banquet for us.”

No longer I who live

Feast of the Presentation of the Lord

Today is the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord but it also happens to be the anniversary of my sacerdotal ordination. Now, the anniversary of our ordination is usually a pretty big thing for us priests, even bigger than our birthdays. For this reason, the Missal allows us to celebrate a special liturgy for the occasion. But given that this feast is a big thing for the Church, I’ve always had to swallow my pride and take a back seat. It’s the festival of lights and the spotlight should be on Christ, the Light of the World.

But this year, I’ve decided to speak about the priestly and religious life. It would be absolutely self-serving if I chose this theme purely on the basis that it has to do with me. Since 1997, this feast has also been celebrated as the World Day for Consecrated Life, as Saint John Paul II explained when he instituted it: "The Virgin Mother who carries Jesus to the temple so that he can be offered to the Father expresses very well the figure of the Church who continues to offer her sons and daughters to the heavenly Father, associating them with the one oblation of Christ, cause and model of all consecration in the Church.”

During a brain-storming session last year with some of the leaders of this parish, one of the items we wished to highlight for this year, being a special Jubilee year for our parish, is the promotion of vocations to the priesthood and the religious life. In our centennial long existence, we have only produced one priest! If that is not a travesty, it should be a tragedy. Perhaps, the lack of vocations to the priesthood and religious life in this parish may have to do with the ability to sacrifice, or the lack of it, to consecrate to God what belongs to Him.

The link between family life and consecrated life is essential. For it is in the family that young people have their first experience of Gospel values and of the love which gives itself to God and to others, which is at the heart of the act of consecration. It is the family, that children should learn the value of service, of sacrifice, of giving our best to God instead of just keeping the best for ourselves and leaving the scraps for God.

The spirit of sacrifice, of giving, of rendering to God our best and our most treasured possession is what we witness in the gospel. St Joseph and the Blessed Virgin Mary undertook their sacred duty to present their child Jesus to God in an act of consecration. But here is the paradox of this scene. Our Lord has no need of consecration, because He is the Divine Word in the flesh, and yet allows His earthly parents to make this act of consecration to His Heavenly Father. They perform in external ritual what Jesus already is in reality, the Only Begotten Son of God. And our Lord Jesus then consecrates His earthly parents and the whole world to His Heavenly Father by mystically uniting them with His life, death and resurrection. They are saints because of Him.

The heart of the scene is certainly the Lord Himself. All attention, affection, expectation, and wonder are focused on the Light of the World. But the ones who surround Him all have in common a total gift of self. They have given everything to be there, both their past and future. St Joseph gave up his expectations for a normal married life. Mary gave up her autonomy to assume the great responsibility of bearing the Saviour of the World. Both Simeon and Anna gave up their youth in long years of waiting for the Messiah. Our Lady and St Joseph, Simeon and Anna, show us that Jesus is the One worth living for, the One worth all of our love, the only One whose claim on our hearts can bring to fulfillment the Love that has been promised us when He first invited us to “Follow Him”.

In each of these figures, we see a call to imitate Jesus, the Light of the World, who gave Himself wholly to do the Father’s will and in accordance to the Father’s will, gave up His life in atonement for our sins and to reconcile the world to the Father. In each of them, we come face-to-face with a vocation that demands all the human heart can give. Not only are we called to give each passing moment to God, but also to accept in advance whatever His will might bring in the future, whether it be a great blessing or sword.

Twenty two years ago, I was presented to the Church for ordination as a priest. In the theological language of the Church, I was configured to Christ. Something changed, a profound and radical change which is invisible to the eye. Sure, my quirks are still there. Sure, I get occasionally testy and snappy and impatient with those around me. Sure, I get tired and frustrated. But something objectively changed. It was more than a change of title or job, or a costume change, with me exchanging my lay civilian clothes for a religious uniform, but this fundamental change which I underwent is what we call an ontological change, a change of my entire being. As St Paul beautifully explains the experience of such change in Gal 2:20, “It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me.”

As we priests experience an ontological change at our ordination, baptism also brings about an ontological change in each of the faithful. In baptism, we are made children of God, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people set apart for the worship of God. In baptism, we become a new creation. The old has been put to death on the cross. In Holy Orders, the priest is configured to Christ at his ordination, in a way calling for a permanent and lasting commitment, through a share in Christ’s eternal priesthood. The priest does not just emulate Christ. He is not just a substitute or a stand-in for Christ. Through ordination, the priest becomes Christ. That is the audacity of God. He takes an ordinary man with all his limitations and even sinfulness, and changes him into something else, not just a mere representative or ambassador, but to stand in the person of Christ Himself - in persona Christi.

Yes, the holy priesthood is a grace to the Church and to the world, but it is also a work of grace. What a priest is and what he accomplishes come from divine grace. In an era of personality cults, this is a humbling realisation for any priest, a realisation that leads to St Paul’s conclusion: “I can do all things in Him who strengthens me” (Phil 4:13). The efficacy of our priesthood is derived from its true source, Christ. In order that a priest remains faithful to his priestly ministry, it is so essential that he remains in the Perfect High Priest Himself. Now, does this mean that you would see a “Fr Michael” incapable of making mistakes? Ordination isn’t Canonisation! Priests like everyone else remain sinners. But just like everyone else, he is called to holiness and through the sacrament of holy orders, he is called to configure himself to Christ. The weakness and sinfulness of a priest does not take away the efficacy of God’s grace but rather accentuates the truth that all is graced and that nothing can be accomplished without the grace and power of God.

So, my dear friends, on this great Festival of Light, even as the spotlight is centered on Christ, who as Simeon prophecies is “a light to enlighten the pagans and the glory of your people Israel,” spare a prayer for me, His humble servant. The Light of Christ illuminates those around Him, even if sometimes we choose to remain in semi-darkness. Pray for me … not for good health, or good wealth, not for greater wisdom or more pizzaz in my delivery. Pray only that I remain faithful to Christ whom I have been consecrated to. Pray as St Paul did, that “It is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me.” And that is the only thing which matters!

The Towel and the Cross

Maundy Thursday

Some people are so good at talking big but fall short in delivery. When push comes to shove, they will easily bend and break. This is what we witness in the gospel. Our first Pope whom the Lord Himself declares as a rock-hard foundation to His church, changes his position not because of some profound enlightenment but melts under pressure. One can’t help but laugh at the 180 degrees turn of St Peter, from refusing to accept the Lord’s offer to wash his feet, to clamouring for a full-body bath!

First, he starts with this: “You shall never wash my feet.” We may even suspect that his refusal was just fake shocked indignation at best, or false humility at worst. And as for the turnaround, doesn’t it seem to be some form of histrionic over-exaggeration on his part? “Not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well!” In both instances, St Peter had misunderstood our Lord’s intention and the significance of His action. And in both instances, his incomprehension and misstep had given our Lord an opportunity to make a teaching point.

Let us look at the first response given by our Lord to Peter when he refused to allow his feet to be washed: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.” A superficial reading of this statement may lead us to conclude that our Lord was just asking Peter and all of us to imitate His humility in serving others. This may be the message at the end of the passage, where our Lord says: “If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.” But the words of our Lord in His response to Peter’s refusal to have his feet washed, goes further than that.

What is this thing which makes us “in common” with our Lord? In other words, what does it mean to have “fellowship” with Him? It is clear that it cannot just mean menial service, but rather the sacrifice of our Lord on the cross. This statement actually highlights the relationship between the foot-washing and the cross. The foot-washing signifies our Lord’s loving action and sacrifice on the cross. If foot-washing merely cleans the feet of the guest who has come in from the dusty streets, our Lord’s sacrifice on the cross will accomplish the cleansing of our sins which we have accumulated from our sojourn in this sin-infested world. Peter must yield to our Lord’s loving action in order to share in His life, which the cross makes possible.

The foot-washing may also be a deliberate echo of the ritual of ablutions, washing of hands and feet, done by the priests of the Old Covenant, before they performed worship and offered sacrifices in the Temple. This may explain Peter’s further request to have both his feet and head washed by the Lord. Without him knowing it, he may have inadvertently referred to his own ordination as a priest of the New Covenant. It is fitting that the washing of feet occurs while the Apostles are entrusted with the Eucharist. No priesthood, no Eucharist - it’s as simple as that.

“No one who has taken a bath needs washing, he is clean all over.” Our Lord was not just making a common-sense statement that those who are clean have no need for further cleansing, but an allusion to the Sacraments which leave an indelible mark on their recipients, two in particular - baptism (confirmation) and Holy Orders. Our Lord’s words resonate with two popular Catholic axioms: “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic” and “once a priest, always a priest.” There is no need for re-baptism or re-ordination even if the person had lapsed. What is needed is confession.

This second set of words also points to the efficacy and sufficiency of what our Lord did on the cross. Christ’s bloody sacrifice on Calvary took place once and for all, and it will never be repeated, it need not be repeated because it cannot be repeated. To repeat His sacrifice would be to imply that the original offering was defective or insufficient, like the animal sacrifices of the Old Testament that could never take away sins. Jesus’ offering was perfect, efficacious, and eternal.

The Holy Mass is a participation in this one perfect offering of Christ on the cross. It is the re-presentation of the sacrifice on the cross; here “re-presentation” does not mean a mere commemoration or a fresh new sacrifice each time the Mass is celebrated, but making “present” the one sacrifice at Calvary. The Risen Christ becomes present on the altar and offers Himself to God as a living sacrifice. Like the Mass, Christ words at the Last Supper are words of sacrifice, “This is my body . . . this is my blood . . . given up for you.” So, the Mass is not repeating the murder of Jesus, but is taking part in what never ends: the offering of Christ to the Father for our sake (Heb 7:25, 9:24). After all, if Calvary didn’t get the job done, then the Mass won’t help. It is precisely because the death of Christ was sufficient that the Mass is celebrated. It does not add to or take away, from the work of Christ—it IS the work of Christ.

When the Lord tells us: “I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you,” it is not just the ritual of foot-washing that He is asking us to imitate. Our Lord is most certainly pointing to His work of salvation on the cross which He offers to us as a gift through the Sacraments. Some people continue to resist Christ because they do not consider themselves sinful enough to require Him to wash them in Baptism or the Sacrament of Penance. Others have the opposite problem: they stay away because they are too ashamed of their lives or secret sins. To both, our Lord and Master gently but firmly speaks these words as He did to Peter: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.”

A shepherd's work is never done

Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Recently I came across this ditty which is made up of stanzas alternating between the voice of the shepherds and that of their sheep. It is interesting to see how the two perspectives are at variance. Here’s a sampling of the first two stanzas:

Shepherds:
Morning to dusk our watch we keep, tending our flock of precious sheep, near and far they love to roam, then one by one we count them home.

Sheep:
A shepherd’s work is never done while naughty sheep are having fun, high and low we love to roam, then one by one we come back home.

Although there is a tinge of realisation by the sheep (and perhaps subdued appreciation) of the thankless never-ending work of the shepherds, and the tale seems to end on a happy note when the sheep finally decide to return home, the naughty sheep persist in “having fun” and roaming “high and low” with little regard for the former’s sweat and toil. But what really surprises me about this song is the utter joy of the shepherds who seem to cherish and enjoy their work, without minding the long hours nor the delinquent wards under their care. No complaints, just pure joy which springs from the authentic love they have for their sheep.

Even as I read the lyrics of this song with amusement, there is a sense of guilt. I’m nothing like the shepherds in this song, what more the Good Shepherd, our Lord Jesus Christ, whom I am called to emulate. I want to be honest, the line which says “a shepherd’s work is never done,” most closely resonates with me but it sounds more like a complaint rather than a statement of fact: “no rest for the wicked.” Sometimes, attending to the needs of the congregation can be so tiring, especially those requiring high maintenance. And being an introvert, my social battery and energy levels dissipate at such speed whenever I am around people, which is to say most of the time. God knows that I need space and time for myself to recuperate and rejuvenate.

But today’s readings seem to throw another wrench into my plans to have a break and some down-time. From the first reading to the gospel, we see how our Lord doesn’t let up in caring and shepherding those in need. It is not that the human Jesus never tires. Just like the Energiser Bunny, even our Lord, fully human as well as divine, would suffer the fatigue that comes to all of us. But does He walk away? Does He give excuses by citing that He needs time to Himself? Does He abdicate His responsibility and push the load of His work to others? The answer is simply “no.”

You all may remember that the Fourth Sunday of Easter in each lectionary cycle is known as Good Shepherd Sunday. But today is an opportunity for all of us (and I’m including myself in this equation) to revisit the theme of the Good Shepherd and what it means to be sheep as well as shepherd in imitation of our Lord. These readings and the underlying message aren’t just aimed at us priests and lay leaders. All of us Christians are the sheep, and Jesus is the Shepherd. But you too are called to be shepherds in different ways - parents, leaders, service providers, teachers, employers, managers, just to name a few. Before we can be good shepherds who lead the way for others, we must first be sheep who know and follow the Shepherd’s voice ourselves.

From the first reading, we are assured that God, the good shepherd, will never abandon His people. In the face of human shepherds who had forsaken their flock, the prophecy of Jeremiah foretells a time when the Lord Himself will shepherd His people through His own shepherd, a king in the line of David. The promise shimmers between God as Himself the shepherd and His representative being the shepherd. We finally see the fulfilment of this prophecy in the person of Jesus Christ, the Anointed One of God who is God Himself.

Too often have we suffered abandonment in our lives at the hands of those whom we have trusted, those who have sworn to have our backs, to care for us, to protect us. And yet so many of us have known the pain of betrayal in the form of an absent parent, an absent mentor, an absent friend, or even an absent pastor. But here is One who will never abandon us no matter what the cost may be. He now calls us to follow Him and imitate Him in being vigilant at our station, to never abandon our post or abdicate our duty. We are called to be faithful shepherds just like Him, to be present, courageous and steadfast in guarding those placed under our care.

The second characteristic of the good shepherd comes from the second reading - we are called to be unifiers. In a hyper-polarised society, where we are often forced to swear allegiance to parties, factions and ideologies, and called to adjudicate between warring parties we must always stand with the Lord and for the Lord. And what does the Lord stand for? St Paul tells us that our Lord has come to bring peace and reconciliation among enemies. The two groups of Christians, sprung from Jews and gentiles, which formerly were so much at loggerheads, are united by the blood of Christ and the single Spirit to form the single New Man which is Christ’s Body, the Church. We as shepherds after the heart of Jesus must do likewise, constantly bringing people together rather than sowing division.

Finally, our Lord shows us in the gospel that shepherds like His disciples need time and space to be rejuvenated. When they return to give a report of their exploits after their first missionary expedition, our Lord recognises their human needs - they are weary, tired and hungry. Rather than subject them to more gruelling activity, He invites them with these words: “You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while.” This is not any ordinary R & R, rest and relax, but necessary time to retreat and recollect (that’s our version of R & R), to spend time with the Lord in order to be rejuvenated, revitalised and re-created. Not only sheep need feeding. Shepherds need it too.

Though our Lord never said “no” to any cry for help or appeal for assistance as can be seen at the end of the gospel passage, He understands that Christianity is not just a non-stop flurry of activities. There can be no love of God, no true love of self, nor love of others, without that stillness and silence which makes us receptive to them all. Prayer is the fuel which powers our sense of mission. Without it, we would be running on empty, the shepherd’s work would feel like a heavy chore rather than something to be cherished and celebrated.

So, even as we struggle to imitate our Lord as a good shepherd, to be faithful to whatever and whoever has been entrusted to us, to not abdicate our responsibilities for selfish reasons or choose to flee when things get tough and rough, it is comforting to always remember that we are sheep who have a Shepherd who is always there for us, strengthening us, guiding us, protecting us and cleaning up after us when we have made a mess of things. He is that Shepherd whose “work is never done.”

Put our faith in God's love

Seventh Sunday of Easter Year B

Suspicion always surrounds someone who comes late to the game. There is even an expression coined for this person: “Johnny come lately.” His success and speed in getting promoted is often envied and resented by others who have been longer and more experienced in the game. His ability to lead and perform is doubted by those placed under his care. He lacks the respect of those who should have confidence in his ability.

Today, we hear how a Johnny-come-lately candidate in the person of Matthias was elected to join the ranks of the Twelve Apostles after the defection and the suicide of Judas Iscariot. It’s always a challenge to fill the shoes of a towering great man. I would imagine that it is so much more difficult to fill the shoes of a scoundrel, a great failure, he will always be compared to the man who betrayed the Lord and be subjected to constant scrutiny so as to not repeat the same “mistake” as the earlier candidate. The early Christian community could not risk another disastrous pick. The first time it happened, it cost the life of the Master. If there should be a second time, God forbid, it would cost them the future of the Church.

It was important that the Twelve chosen by Jesus should remain at Twelve, even after the defection of Judas, for this is the number of the tribes of Israel, and the Church is the new Israel, the new People of God. What criteria should be required of Judas’ replacement? It would certainly not be impeccability, as all the Twelve had fallen and made mistakes, and not just Judas. St Peter, inspired by the Holy Spirit, set out one simple criterion for the candidate to fill the vacancy: “We must therefore choose someone who has been with us the whole time that the Lord Jesus was travelling round with us … and he can act with us as a witness to his resurrection.”

So, this was the sole criterion for choosing Matthias to fill the vacancy left by Judas’ exit. But there was also another candidate who fulfilled the criterion - Barsabbas. Before they drew lots to pick the candidate, the group prayed for guidance, proclaimed their trust in God and went on to cast lots and the lot fell on Matthias who became one of the Apostles. Despite, the commendation to God in prayer, it is important to note that the method of choice of the twelfth member is itself significantly deficient - drawing lots does appear to leave everything to chance just as one would seek direction from God by flipping the pages of the Bible and allowing your eyes to fall on the first words of the text that is presented to you. This has less to do with faith than it is to believing in some form of divination. We need to remember that the Holy Spirit has not yet come upon the members of the community at Pentecost to fill their minds and hearts and so enable them to select the twelfth member in a way that is both human and inspired.

Now, does this mean that after Pentecost the election of a bishop or even a Pope, who are successors of the Apostles, is always a candidate chosen directly by the Holy Spirit? This is a common question asked by many especially when they have doubts over the choice of the successful candidate. The answer, of course, is that the Holy Spirit was doing what He is always doing, prompting all involved to cast their votes for the good of the Church. But the Holy Spirit does not choose the pope; that is left to the vagaries of men, and the vagaries of their response to grace. Sometimes His grace is accepted and sometimes it is rejected. God does not impose His will on our freedom to choose.

What does this mean? The Holy Spirit does not arrange the votes so that the best possible candidate is elected. In other words, it is not divinely rigged! The Holy Spirit does not guarantee that the best candidate would be elected bishop or pope. To believe that there is such a guarantee is simply naive and chooses to ignore factual history that we’ve had many deficient candidates and scandalously bad bishops and popes. Although there is no guarantee whatsoever that the choice will reflect God’s active will, the choice of a particular man as pope obviously fits within God’s permissive will.

Happily, the Catholic Church enjoys some Divine guarantees. Christ promised to be with the Church to the end of time, and that the gates of hell would not prevail against her. This means essentially that the Holy Spirit will not permit the Church’s Divine constitution to be lost, that the fullness of all the means of salvation will always be available in the Church, that the Church’s sacraments will always be powerful sources of grace, that the Church’s Magisterial teachings will be free from error, and that the Church will remain the mystical body of Christ under the headship of our Lord Himself, as represented by His Vicar, Peter’s successor.

In the gospel, we see our Lord interceding on behalf of His disciples and the Church, praying that her members will remain united, that they will remain true to God’s name which is His will, that they would be consecrated to the truth, and none be lost. Though our Lord assures us and guarantees that He would be interceding on our behalf as the perfect High Priest, there is no guarantee that what He prayed for would always be realised because of man’s free will. Our rebellion against His divine will is evidenced by centuries of schism, apostasy and heresy, where many including Church leaders have worked against the unity of the Church and distorted her teachings by substituting it with erroneous interpretations.

With Pope Francis’ recent revelation that there were human machinations and lobbying among the cardinals during the conclave which elected his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, where does that leave us? Scandalised or disillusioned? Has the Holy Spirit taken a backseat? Never. We must remember and believe that the Holy Spirit is continuously active and certainly knows what He is doing—even when His graces are refused and His plans thwarted by ambitious sinful men. We must humbly acknowledge that none of us can see the future or the whole picture but God can, and God does! We must be assured and find consolation in knowing that the Holy Spirit does not tire, nor does Christian hope disappoint. Our job is to pray, work and trust in Divine Providence!

Although we may sometimes doubt the wisdom of our leaders and why they were chosen, we must never ever doubt God’s wisdom in allowing these men to be elected and chosen. As St John in the second reading exhorts us, let us “put our faith in God’s love towards ourselves. God is love and anyone who lives in love lives in God, and God lives in him.” (1 John 15-16)

He lays down His Life

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year B
Good Shepherd Sunday

What do priests talk about when we meet up with each other? Well, here’s a little secret. We talk about our sheep or to be more precise, we often end up complaining about them. I guess that when the sheep get into their own discussion circles, the performance of priests make good fodder for discussion and gossip. In paintings of Jesus the Good Shepherd, He is often depicted, cuddling cute adorable lambs. But the reality is that many members of our flocks are hardly adorable or cute, and certainly not someone you would enjoy cuddling. Perhaps, we may even be tempted at times to strangle them, especially the more incorrigible and annoying ones. Occasionally, some of us confess that there were times we doubted whether we had chosen the right profession, that we should have gotten out if we had the chance to do so.

This Sunday in our liturgical calendar, is a much needed wake up call for us priests, shepherds of souls, as well as an assurance that there is a Shepherd who would not suffer the same weaknesses as us. Here is a Shepherd who is willing to “lay down His life” for His sheep, even though His sheep sets out to murder Him. His selfless generosity exposes our depraved selfishness.

Here are some qualities of the good shepherd that stands out in today’s gospel. I’m not sure if you see your priests fitting the bill. If he doesn’t, do offer up a prayer for him. If that doesn’t work, you can always petition the bishop!

The relationship between the shepherd and his sheep is not just the result of a job; it is deeper than that. If it was a mere job, then one would be constantly seeking benefits from fulfilling one’s responsibilities. And if the benefits do not commensurate with the responsibility, we would immediately see it as a burden.

The shepherd is also a leader. With much talk about the importance of accompaniment, of walking together with others as equals, we often lose sight of the necessity for good leadership. The good shepherd leads his sheep; he does not just accompany them on whatever path they feel inspired to follow. Not only does he lead them, but he leads them “to pasture,” that is to good food. He ensures that his sheep are fed well with the complete revelation of Jesus Christ through Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition rather than survive on watered down mush passed off as truth. He ensures that they are fed with sanctifying grace through faithful celebration of the sacraments, rather than only when it is convenient and expedient to do so.

But the most distinctive quality of the Good Shepherd is that He is willing and actually does lay down His life for His sheep. If the gospel was turned into a song, this would be the resounding theme and refrain: “I lay down my life for my sheep.” Which shepherd would sacrifice and risk his own life for a single sheep? He would rather sacrifice and lose a sheep to a wolf than to lose his own life or the entire herd. But here is the greatest quality of the Good Shepherd. He is one who is willing to suffer, out of love, for those entrusted to His care. He is one who chooses the life of the sheep over His own life. At the heart of this teaching is sacrifice. The Good Shepherd is sacrificial. And being sacrificial is the truest and most accurate definition of love.

It is only through our Lord’s sacrificial death on the cross for our sins and His glorious resurrection to life eternal, that we are able to enter into the presence of God the Most High. In a relativistic world, where it is argued, that one religion is just as good as another, we Christians make this audacious but true claim - Jesus alone is Saviour. Jesus alone is the gate, the entrance point, to eternal life with God. St Peter declares this truth in the first reading taken from the Acts of the Apostles: “For of all the names in the world given to men, this is the only one by which we can be saved” (Acts 4:12). This is the reason why our Lord laid down His life for us, not just for those now counted among the fold that knows Him but also those others who have been entrusted to Him, who still do not know Him.

But His sacrifice also gives us an example of what we must do as His followers called to imitate His life. Laying down our lives shows that the nature of love is a total self-gift. Laying down your life cannot be done halfway. Either your life is laid down or not. This reveals that love, for it to be love in the truest sense, is a total commitment of 100% of your life. Love if not sacrificial is counterfeit. Laying down your life clearly shows that love requires a sort of death to self. You have to be stripped down so that all that remains is Christ who shines through you and works through you, you are a mere vessel in His service. It requires that we look to the other first, putting their needs before ours. This requires true sacrifice and selflessness.

In this year’s Chrism Mass of our Archdiocese, our shepherd Archbishop Julian Leow delivered a most stirring homily. He asked this question that seems to be on everyone’s mind as we witness the decline of vocations to the priesthood and religious life: “Are we in a crisis?” He then follows his rhetoric question with an answer: “We are not, but all signs show that we are heading in that direction if we sit back and do nothing. If there is a crisis now, it is a crisis of commitment and generosity to selflessness that is seen in all states of life.”

Yes, we are suffering from a crisis that goes beyond the plunging number of vocations. It is the crisis of a lack of generosity and commitment to selflessness. Whether it be in marriage or in a religious or priestly life, the crisis is a crisis of generosity and commitment. We demand a great deal from others but make little effort to make sacrifices, if at all. In any crisis, we can either choose to be selfish or to be selfless. To flee from danger out of self-preservation or to lay down one’s life for others out of love. That is the choice we must make! Too few are willing to “lay down” their lives for others. We are afraid to give because we are afraid to lose.

But the bottom line is that giving of ourselves until it hurts turns any small or large sacrifice we give into a blessing for others and a glorious reward for us. The truth of the matter is that by giving out of love, we have so much more to gain. Too often people have remarked in my presence that we priests have made such a great sacrifice by accepting this sacred vocation. How often was I tempted to reply, not out of some false humility but rather gratitude, that I have become so much the richer as a priest than before - spiritually richer that is! And how I am edified and inspired too by the sacrifices made by married couples to each other and parents to their children. Living a sacrificial life is fulfilling on many levels and is ultimately what we are made for. So, do not hesitate to commit yourself to this depth of love. By giving yourself completely away, you find yourself and discover Eternal Life in the presence of our Divine Lord, the Good Shepherd, who “lays down his life for his sheep.”

He Humbled Himself

Maundy Thursday

Footwashing has becoming a fad among Christians and Catholics, especially during retreats and camps where participants are encouraged to wash each other’s feet. It’s a dirty job because our feet are that part of our bodies which are most prone to getting soiled and smelly. But the aversion to this is not just on the part of the doer but also the receiver. Most of us are too embarrassed to expose our dirty smelly feet to others. The messaging of this action, however, is clear. This ritual is meant to express our willingness to emulate the Lord’s humility and heart for service. But I can’t help but think that it has become a tool of virtue signalling, declaring to the world “see how humble I am!”, the exact opposite of what the action is meant to signify.

And most recently, it has also been used as a means of propaganda in promoting a certain ideology - woke ideology, to be precise. In a recent advertisement played to millions of Americans who watched live the National Football League playoffs, it was a means of conveying a vanilla message of non-judgmentalism and universal acceptance of traditionally problematic moral issues under the guise of Jesus “gets us.” In a highly selective montage which included scenes depicting members of the LGBT community and abortion clinics, those who paid for this multi-million dollar advertisement would have wanted to showcase and proclaim the gospel of nice and tolerance while conveniently leaving out the essential call to repentance. The message was not so subtle for us to read between the lines: Jesus “gets us” translates as Jesus accepts us for who we are and despite what we’ve done. In other words, Jesus embraces both the sinner and the sin, and makes no demands of us to repent and change.

The action of our Lord in washing the feet of His disciples certainly demonstrates humble service but it is so much more than that. It points to two significant events of His life which form the basis of His work of salvation - the Incarnation on the one hand; and His passion and death on the other. When our Lord began to lovingly wash the disciples’ feet, His actions symbolised how He became a slave for us with His Incarnation. It also reminds us of the humiliating death He was about to undergo for our redemption. Why would He do this? He did this for our sake and for our salvation - He did this to save us from our sins and not leave us in our depraved condition. For if He had just tolerated our sinfulness, there would be absolutely no reason why the Word would become flesh and for Him to choose to die on the cross. He did it to redeem us from our sins, to liberate us from our sins, to save us from our sins.

Yes, we are to imitate our Lord in living out lives of love, service, forgiveness, and humility, as we reach out to help and sacrifice for one another. But more than that, we are to live with the certain hope that He has washed away our sins with His blood. We can no longer live our old lives trapped and wallowing in the murky muddy waters of sin. He has come to give us new life, to make us a new creation. He did not come just to wash our feet as an example of humble service, and then leave the filth of sin within us untouched. For that would be virtue signalling. No, He came to wash away our sins, to defeat sin not just by pouring clean water over it but by shedding His own blood on the cross.

Our Lord truly “gets us.” He truly understands our condition and our plight. He knows and He understands that left to our own devices, we are lost; left to us wallowing in our sinful lifestyle, we are heading in the direction of our own destruction; that a life without Him means that we are ultimately lost. Our Lord “gets us” by seeking the lost, healing the wounded, pardoning the sinner. If He has done this for us, so must we imitate Him in reaching out to others to offer them the forgiveness and salvation which is our Lord’s greatest gift to us.

Yes, the action of washing feet is indeed a profound expression of humility but in order that it remains a sign of humble service, instead of virtue signalling, we must never forget that this action is tied to both the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery. This is how Pope Benedict XVI seeks to remind us:

"The greater you are, the more you humble yourself, so you will find favour in the sight of the Lord. For great is the might of the Lord" (3: 18-20) says the passage in Sirach; and in the Gospel, after the Parable of the Wedding Feast, Jesus concludes: "Every one who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted" (Lk 14: 11). Today, this perspective mentioned in the Scriptures appears especially provocative to the culture and sensitivity of contemporary man. The humble person is perceived as someone who gives up, someone defeated, someone who has nothing to say to the world. Instead, this is the principal way, and not only because humility is a great human virtue but because, in the first place, it represents God's own way of acting. It was the way chosen by Christ, the Mediator of the New Covenant, who "being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross" (Phil 2:8).

Here, at this Mass of the Lord’s Supper, where our Lord instituted the Eucharist - the Sacrament of Love - we will witness again what our Lord did two millennia ago. He, who is Lord and Master, King of Kings, took off His Cloak of Royal Splendour and became a Servant. He washed the feet of those whom He had chosen to continue His Redemptive work. He gives Himself to us as food for the journey and went on to die on the cross. He showed us what we were chosen to do. On that night, our Lord enlisted His disciples and tonight, He enlists all of us to live lives of self-emptying Love for the world. To bear the name "Christian" is to walk humbly in this love in the midst of a broken and wounded world that is waiting to be reborn.

True Victimhood

Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The first reading and the gospel both present us with two polar opposites of how we view ourselves and others, which ultimately defines the way we relate. In the first reading, Job sees himself as a victim of circumstances and perhaps even God’s seemingly capricious unfairness. He has lost everything - his wealth, his family and his health - all are common denominators of one’s personal happiness and success. As he moans, groans and rants, he speaks from a place of entitlement. Did he not earn God’s favour by living a righteous life? This is not the same Job whom the Lord praises at the beginning of the story because at that point of time he lacks nothing, nor is this the Job who is enlightened by these series of tragedies and ensuing debates with his friends who emerges vindicated at the end of the story. In this passage, Job’s experience mirrors many of ours. We praise God for His blessings when life has been good to us, but the moment these favours are withdrawn, we immediately descend into petulant rantings of a spoilt entitled child.

In the gospel, we are given two positive examples - one is the mother-in-law of St Peter and the other is our Lord Jesus. But to add contrast to the story, we are also presented with the negative examples of the crowds who come to the Lord for healing and together with the disciples form a cohort of entitled persons, believing themselves to be uniquely deserving of the miracles of the Lord and would not wish to share Him with others. In contrast to this second group, note how Peter’s mother-in-law made no demands of the Lord but was most willing to serve Him the moment she recovered. There is no sense of entitlement but rather a sense of service to others springing from gratitude. Her actions merely reflect that of our Lord’s ministry, who tells us that His primary mission and duty is to preach the gospel of the Kingdom, to offer the gift of salvation to others, for this is the reason why He came.

So, this question is now placed before us as a choice: do we live for ourselves with a sense of entitlement, or do we live for others with a sense of duty and responsibility? Most of us would be conflicted. St Paul, however, resolves this tension within his own life and ministry. In the second reading, Paul writes: “I do not boast of preaching the gospel, since it is a duty which has been laid on me; I should be punished if I did not preach it! If I had chosen this work myself, I might have been paid for it, but as I have not, it is a responsibility which has been put into my hands. Do you know what my reward is? It is this: in my preaching, to be able to offer the Good News free, and not insist on the rights which the gospel gives me.” He rejects the sense of entitlement and embraces the responsibility which has been placed on him to preach the gospel and he claims that carrying out that duty is itself, his reward.

This tension exists even till today. Our culture today, is a battle ground between the values of entitlement and the values of duty or responsibility. The person with a sense of entitlement believes: everything that happens should somehow benefit them. Anything unfavourable or unfortunate that happens in life is happening “to” them. They constantly see themselves as poor victims. The person with a sense of responsibility believes: it’s their duty to deal with whatever comes up, to be accountable, and to accept all of the consequences of their own actions. The person with a sense of duty lives for others. They do not ask: “what’s in it for me?” but rather, “how can I help and be of service for others?” The model for this sense of duty is our Lord Himself.

Our Lord is often described in our liturgical text as both Priest and Victim. But what does it mean to be a Victim, in the sense of being Christlike? The victim here is a reference to the animal sacrifice or holocaust offered by the priests in the Temple to atone for the sins of men. It was meant to be a sacrifice of atonement, to take our place in receiving God’s judgment and punishment. But until the time of Jesus, no animal sacrifice was capable of accomplishing this despite the number of animals being killed to appease what seems to be a blood-thirsty God. But all this changed when God Himself offered His only begotten Son as the sacrifice. Jesus is the perfect sacrifice or Victim, because He alone is “spotless and unblemished”.

In the Eucharist, Christ victimhood is at the heart of the Sacrifice of the Mass. The Bread which is consecrated during Mass is called the Host, which is derived from the Latin “Hostia” which means Victim or Sacrifice. See the connexion? So, whenever we participate in the Holy Mass where the Host is offered and consecrated, and whenever we receive that consecrated host in Holy Communion, we too partake in the victimhood of Christ, a victimhood which atones sins and redeems us from the devil. Christ’s victimhood is a victimhood for others, rather than the sordid victimhood of a culture of entitlement which only seeks to benefit oneself.

The Victimhood of Christ is the necessary antidote to the malaise of victim mentality we see in today’s culture, a mentality that is extremely tempting and popular today. Today, claiming the status of a victim grants one status, power, and moral high ground. It conveys the moral certainty that one is automatically right. Now even the smallest offense is trumpeted all over social media. Social media has raised ranting and complaining to an art form. “Victims” feel extremely entitled and have become extremely unforgiving. Even mild or merely awkward remarks are interpreted in the harshest way possible and as aggressive attacks on the purported victim.

How different is this false victimhood from the true victimhood to which Christians are called. The image of Christ as victim runs throughout the Christian theology, hymnary, and scripture. First, Christ was a true victim in what He suffered. He did not experience some imaginary suffering or claim that mere words are violence. On the contrary, He suffered the worst and cruelest humiliation and death and yet found it within His heart to forgive His enemies.

Second, He suffered for others. He called Himself the Good Shepherd and said He would lay down His life for His sheep. And then He did it. The modern victim suffers nothing for no one except himself. The smallest slight becomes a reason for seeking revenge.

Our Lord also suffered in silence. Pilate even prodded Him, urging Him to denounce or contradict His accusers. He invited our Lord to proclaim His innocence, and our Lord would not do it. Isaiah prophesied this moment when he spoke of the Suffering Servant, “He was oppressed and afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7).

A Christian is called to accept true victimhood, and with humility. We are told we must take up our crosses and suffer with our Lord. And not only with Him but like Him. As parents, spouses, children, brothers, sisters, and friends, every Christian is to be a victim - not of the entitled and demanding type but of the self-giving and sacrificial type like Christ. To be willing to suffer for others, to forgive, and to do so quietly and with dignity.

Greatness, Humility and Authority

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Today’s readings, especially the first and the gospel, are painful passages to read and meditate. Not for you but for me as a priest. Both readings contain a list of stinging indictments against corrupt religious leaders who should have known better but are guilty of dereliction of duty and misplaced priorities.

The priests of Malachi’s day doctored the message of God which they were entrusted to transmit to their people. They wanted to be more popular with the people than faithful to God’s Word. They catered to itching ears and told folks what they wanted to hear, not necessarily what they needed to hear. And since they had deceived publicly, they were rebuked publicly. And so, Malachi accuses the priestly class of his times with these offences:
They do not listen to God;
They do not glorify His name;
They have strayed from their way;
They have caused many to stumble by their teachings;
They have destroyed the covenant of Levi;
They have not kept to the path;
They have showed partiality in their administration.

For the above reasons God will send His curse upon them and curse their very blessing. To prove to the people the error of their teaching, God will bring on them a public disgrace - He will make them “contemptible and vile in the eyes of the whole people.” A fitting repayment for their infidelity.

The harshness of Malachi’s prophetic words is outmatched by the diatribe which our Lord heaps on the scribes and Pharisees, the religious leaders of His time. Our Lord’s rant against the Pharisees’ ostentatious dressing and certain cultural norms of honour could easily be applied to the Catholic Church and serve as the perfect foundation for any ad hominem anti-clerical attack on the Catholic hierarchy, or so many think. For aren’t Catholic clergy known for dressing up in flowing robes (or as Pope Francis is fond of saying, “grandmother’s lace”), having seats of honour in churches and even social functions? Aren’t our priests simply addressed as “Father”?

Although this is not meant as a general apologia for the Catholic hierarchy, it is good to understand what our Lord meant in His scathing attack of the scribes and the Pharisees and how any superficial application of the text to support our own prejudices, would be the greatest injustice done to our Lord’s teachings. It would be literally taking His words and twisting their meaning to suit our agenda.

It is clear that our Lord was attacking the hypocrisy and self-aggrandising attitude of the religious leaders of His time. He was not making a statement about fashion styles (broader phylacteries and longer tassels, or in today’s modern update “lacey albs”) nor was He attacking the cultural norms of giving places of honour to honoured guests. Let’s be honest, hypocrisy and self-aggrandisement are not a malady that is exclusive to clerics but can infect anyone. Whenever we make show of our status or our outward practices to win men’s admiration, we are as guilty as the Pharisees and scribes described in today’s gospel.

Likewise, when it comes to calling anyone “teacher” or “father,” our Lord’s admonition is against the false assumption of any kind of title or mark of respect for self-glorification, thus detracting from the primacy of God’s authority, in a very real way putting oneself in God’s place. Our Lord was not outlawing the title “father” in legitimate usage. He Himself referred to the prodigal son’s parent as a father and quoted the commandment “Honour your father and your mother.” And He did not correct those who called Him “Rabbi” or “Master.”

Likewise, St Paul was unaware of any prohibition of the spiritual use of the title "father," telling the Corinthians: “I became your father in Christ Jesus through the Gospel” (1 Corinthians 4:15), and speaking of his relationship with Timothy said that “as a child with a father he has served along with me in the cause of the Gospel.” (Philippians 2:22) The spiritual use of father was not questioned in the Church for centuries, and Jesus’ words were never invoked to cause question or concern about the practice. Early teachers and revered spiritual guides were known as Fathers of the Church. Even the Pope is known as “Holy Father.”

At the end of the day, if our criticisms are confined to attacks on dressing, cultural practices and titles, it would only expose our superficiality. We seem to be focusing on the externals and ignoring what is fundamentally interior to a person. Wouldn’t that be an apt description of one of the major sins of the Pharisees? Although we can judge the external behaviour of another, none of us can or are qualified, to judge their intent. Our Lord could do this because He is God. Let us not flatter ourselves by thinking that we are on par with Him and can therefore do the same.

Ultimately, the key is found in the last few lines of today’s passage. And so, our Lord exhorts us to follow this standard: “The greatest among you must be your servant. Anyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and anyone who humbles himself will be exalted.” This is a standard not just meant for leaders, though they should take special heed of this, but for everyone.

It is one thing to see how a general application of our Lord’s criticism can apply to everyone, clergy, religious or laity. But as I had mentioned at the start, we priests must take heed of both Malachi’s warnings and that of our Lord’s since a greater responsibility is attached to those who are entrusted with the authority to teach and lead the people. Pope St Gregory’s words in one of his homilies remain relevant today, “We can speak only with a heavy heart of so few labourers for such a great harvest, for although there are many to hear the good news there are only a few to preach it. Look about you and see how full the world is of priests, yet in God’s harvest a labourer is rarely to be found; for although we have accepted the priestly office, we do not fulfil its demands.”

“Beloved brothers, consider what has been said: Pray the Lord of the harvest to send labourers into his harvest. Pray for us so that we may have the strength to work on your behalf, that our tongue may not grow weary of exhortation, and that after we have accepted the office of preaching, our silence may not condemn us before the just judge.” So, the next time you offer up a prayer, remember to pray for us unworthy priests, bishops and the Holy Father, the Pope.

The Voice of the Shepherd

Fourth Sunday of Easter Year A
Good Shepherd Sunday

Preparing a homily can be a real uphill task. Not because we lack inspiration or the words of scripture are dull and uninspiring. On the contrary, there is so much fodder in scriptures to build upon. The real challenge is our audience and their receptivity or lack of it: Do I tell them what they want to hear or do I tell them the truth?

Sadly, in our culture today, these two options are often mutually exclusive. The truth is hard to hear, so we prefer to hear what we like, even if it’s not what we need. Ours is an age that flourishes in compromise, steadfastness to the truth is hardly tolerated. Thus, the pastor is often faced with tension of either preaching the uncomfortable truth of God’s Word or watering it down to make it more agreeable to the listener. As it says in 2 Timothy 4:3, “The time is sure to come when people will not accept sound teaching, but their ears will be itching for anything new and they will collect themselves a whole series of teachers according to their own tastes.” Sadly, we are living in such times!

Here’s the paradox of preaching: If I were to tell the audience what they do not wish to hear, would I risk not having my voice recognised as the sheep recognises the voice of the shepherd? Or if I choose to pander to the crowd and tell them what they want to hear, am I not robbing them of their right to receive “sound teaching”? In this sense, would I not be more a “brigand”, a robber, than a shepherd?

On this Good Shepherd Sunday, I want to set out several uncomfortable topics which are listed by the readings as sine qua non to the preacher’s arsenal of homiletic themes. As much as these topics seem unpopular and triggering, they provide the necessary nutritious sustenance to our hungering flock. To provide them with anything less or innovatively different would either be to starve them of solid spiritual food or provide them with theological indigestion.

First on the list is everyone’s favourite - Sin! Now you may think that this is stating the obvious - isn’t sin one of the essential themes of religion? It is but the truth is that in recent times, most of us attempt to skirt the topic or try to soften it by using some wish-washy euphemistic substitute. We preach consoling, encouraging and invigorating sermons but avoid making mention of sin because we fear that this would make our audience uncomfortable. We have transformed our funerals into rituals of canonisation whilst ignoring the fact that one of the main reasons for a funeral is that the deceased sinner needs us to pray FOR him and not pray TO him. We hide sin under the cover of every psychological concept or newly minted syndrome, thus taking away all culpability and liability from the individual.

So many, including many shepherds, have forgotten this simple truth - if we ignore sin, salvation is meaningless. The good news of the Lord’s death and resurrection means nothing if we don’t have a clear picture of our desperate sinful condition. Christ came to save us from our sins, not just to inspire us and make us feel good. Many of us priests have forgotten that we are called to be shepherds of souls and not just motivational speakers or counsellors. St Peter in the first reading fully understood his role as a shepherd of souls - convicting his audience of their sins, calling them to repentance, and saw his mission as participating in Christ’s mission to save his audience from this “perverse generation.” In saving souls, he knew he had to risk losing his audience’s approval and even far worse, losing his own life, which he did.

The second topic is suffering and the cross. Now, most people are keenly aware of their own sufferings and that of others. This often leads either to resentment or despair. One of the most common manifestations of narcissism is playing the victim: “poor me!” We complain that we have received a raw deal despite our attempts in following Christ and obeying His commandments. The reason for our complaints is that we expect to be rewarded. Many Protestant pastors would, therefore, choose to offer a Christianity without the cross - what is pejoratively known as the “gospel of prosperity” - and sad to say, many Catholic preachers have likewise jumped on the same bandwagon. The popularity of the prosperity gospel is understandable. Who would not wish for an alleviation of one’s pains and sufferings? The gospel which preaches the cross as inevitable is naturally unpopular.

And yet, this is what we must do, as St Peter spells out in the second reading: “The merit, in the sight of God, is in bearing punishment patiently when you are punished after doing your duty. This, in fact, is what you were called to do, because Christ suffered for you and left an example for you to follow the way he took.” The truth is that we all suffer to a greater or lesser degree, whether we like or not. But how we suffer and what we do with that suffering makes all the difference. Suffering for a Christian is a priceless opportunity to draw close to the suffering Christ, to carry His cross and consciously share in His redemptive suffering.

Third, the Good Shepherd offers us objective truth instead of just one opinion or direction or path among many. Living in an increasingly globalised and multicultural society, there is a great temptation to just succumb to the heresy of relativism - that all truths - even those which seem to contradict each other - are equally valid. Ironically, the heresy of relativism has been established as a new form of orthodoxy, and anyone who disagrees with this position would be summarily cancelled, the modern version of excommunication. The gospel provides us, however, with an important but uncomfortable truth - in a marketplace of ideas, only the Good Shepherd, the true Shepherd, can offer us saving truth “so that they may have life and have it to the full.” Beware of false teachers who pander to our “itching ears” and give us what is according to our respective “tastes.”

Now if this is what we shepherds are called to do by virtue of our vocation as pastors, shepherds, what does your vocation entail? Being described as “sheep” doesn’t sound flattering. In fact, it often invokes an image of mindless clique behaviour, having to be sorted out, constantly losing our way, and having to be minded and controlled by others. Unlike the parables involving shepherds and sheep found in the Synoptic Gospels, St John provides us with a more nuanced and mature image of the sheep. His are the sheep which recognise the voice of the shepherd and knows how to distinguish between counterfeits and the real thing. His are sheep that are so tuned in to their shepherd that they will follow him, trusting him that he will bring them to no harm. His are the sheep who understand that they will enjoy true freedom only when they submit themselves to the authority of the Shepherd. And they do so knowing that only the Good Shepherd alone can offer them “life and have it to the full.” As your priests, we too are not exempt from being sheep within the fold of Jesus the Good Shepherd. As we pray for our shepherds in the church, the bishops and priests, that they will take after the heart of the Good Shepherd, let us also pray for ourselves that we will all have the confidence and faith to place our lives in the hands of the One who alone has assured us that we will be safe.

In common with the Lord

Maundy Thursday 2022

One can’t help but laugh at the 180 degrees turn of St Peter, from refusing to accept the Lord’s offer to wash his feet, to clamouring for a full-body bath! First, he starts with this: “You shall never wash my feet.” We may even suspect that his refusal was just fake shocked indignation at best, or false humility at worst. And as for the turnaround, doesn’t it seem to be some form of histrionic over-exaggeration on his part? “Not only my feet, but my hands and my head as well!” In both instances, St Peter had misunderstood our Lord’s intention and the significance of His action. And in both instances, his incomprehension and misstep had given our Lord an opportunity to make a teaching point.

Let us look at the first response given by our Lord to Peter when he refused to allow his feet to be washed: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.” A superficial reading of this statement may lead us to conclude that our Lord was just asking Peter and all of us to imitate His humility in serving others. This may be the message at the end of the passage, where our Lord says: “If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.” But the words of our Lord in His response to Peter’s refusal to have his feet washed, goes further than that. This text is more than just a call to emulate our Lord’s example.

What is this thing which makes us “in common” with our Lord? In other words, what does it mean to have “fellowship” with Him? It is clear that it cannot just mean menial service, but rather the sacrifice of our Lord on the cross. This statement actually highlights the relationship between the foot-washing and the cross. The foot-washing signifies our Lord’s loving action and sacrifice on the cross. If foot-washing merely cleans the feet of the guest who has come in from the dusty streets, our Lord’s sacrifice on the cross will accomplish the cleansing of our sins which we have accumulated from our sojourn in this sin-infested world. Peter must yield to our Lord’s loving action in order to share in His life, which the cross makes possible.

The foot-washing may also be a deliberate echo of the ritual of ablutions, washing of hands and feet, done by the priests of the Old Covenant, before they performed worship and offered sacrifices in the Temple. This may explain Peter’s further request to have both his feet and head washed by the Lord. Without him knowing, he may have inadvertently referred to his own ordination as a priest of the New Covenant. It is fitting that the washing of feet occurs while the Apostles are entrusted with the Eucharist.

While Peter finally agrees to let the Lord wash his feet after our Lord had framed His answer in this way, Peter again misunderstands because he thinks that the Lord is talking about the literal washing of different body parts. Again, well-intentioned but not understanding, Peter suggests that the Lord wash more of his body - why stop with his feet when he could also have his hands and head washed too? The naïveté of Peter is amazing. The point is not how much of the body the Lord physically washes, but what the humble gesture of foot-washing signifies: the sacrifice on the cross. Our Lord’s action on the cross suffices to make us “clean all over.”

Viewing this through sacramental lenses, we may then understand the second set of response to Peter’s request to have a full body wash: “No one who has taken a bath needs washing, he is clean all over.” Our Lord was not just making a common-sense statement that those who are clean have no need for further cleansing, but an allusion to the sacraments which leave an indelible mark on their recipients, two in particular - baptism (confirmation) and Holy Orders. Our Lord’s words resonate with two popular Catholic axioms: “Once a Catholic, always a Catholic” and “once a priest, always a priest.” There is no need for re-baptism or re-ordination even if the person had lapsed. What is needed is confession.

This second set of words also points to the efficacy and sufficiency of what our Lord did on the cross. Christ’s bloody sacrifice on Calvary took place once, and it will never be repeated, it need not be repeated because it cannot be repeated. To repeat His sacrifice would be to imply that the original offering was defective or insufficient, like the animal sacrifices of the Old Testament that could never take away sins. Jesus’ offering was perfect, efficacious, and eternal.

But how about the Holy Mass? Isn’t this “repeating” the sacrifice of Christ on the cross? This is what Protestants falsely accuse us Catholics of doing with little understanding of the theology of the Mass. The Holy Mass is a participation in this one perfect offering of Christ on the cross. It is the re-presentation of the sacrifice on the cross; here “re-presentation” does not mean a mere commemoration or a fresh new sacrifice each time the Mass is celebrated, but making “present” the one sacrifice at Calvary. The Risen Christ becomes present on the altar and offers Himself to God as a living sacrifice. Like the Mass, Christ words at the Last Supper are words of sacrifice, “This is my body . . . this is my blood . . . given up for you.” So, the Mass is not repeating the murder of Jesus, but is taking part in what never ends: the offering of Christ to the Father for our sake (Heb 7:25, 9:24). After all, if Calvary didn’t get the job done, then the Mass won’t help. It is precisely because the death of Christ was sufficient that the Mass is celebrated. It does not add to or take away, from the work of Christ—it IS the work of Christ.

Baptism is not just some initiation ritual that has been handed down to us through the centuries and neither is the Eucharist a mere historical event that happened two thousand years ago and is now being memorialised and re-enacted by the community. St Thomas Aquinas teaches: “The sacraments of the Church derive their power specially from Christ’s Passion.” The Risen Jesus acts in the Church’s Sacraments to communicate the saving power of His passion. Peter could not understand all this at the Last Supper and that is why the Lord tells Him: “At the moment you do not know what I am doing, but later you will understand.” He had to wait for the Lord’s resurrection before He came to understand the actions of our Lord and their significance. We are more privileged. We have the witness of the Church who has seen the Risen Lord in the flesh.

When the Lord tells us: “I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you,” it is not just the ritual of foot-washing that He is asking us to emulate. Our Lord is most certainly pointing to His work of salvation on the cross which He offers to us as a gift. The right response we must make is to receive this gift and yield to His actions in our lives, to say ‘yes’ to Him and the transforming power of His graces which is channeled to us through the Sacraments. Some people continue to resist Christ because they do not consider themselves sinful enough to require Him to wash them in Baptism or the Sacrament of Penance. Others have the opposite problem: they stay away because they are too ashamed of their lives or secret sins. To both, our Lord and Master gently but firmly speaks these words as He did to Peter: “If I do not wash you, you can have nothing in common with me.”