Mercy and the Sacramental Life

Second Sunday of Easter Year A (Divine Mercy Sunday)

The beautiful prayer which closes each decade of the Chaplet of Mercy goes like this:
“Eternal Father, I offer you the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of your dearly beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and those of the whole world.”

These words are a reminder that this devotional prayer, the Chaplet, is an offering of the Slain-Risen Lord to the Father—by His priestly people—asking the Father to be who He has shown Himself to be in Christ: Mercy. As such, the Chaplet is an extension of the liturgical offering of the same Slain-Risen Lord that is the holy sacrifice of the Mass. A reminder that today’s feast of the Divine Mercy, just like that of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus and Corpus Christi, is essentially Eucharistic.

We often equate mercy with compassion, sympathy and forgiveness. But mercy is all that and so much more than a sentiment. It has a face - it is the face of the Lord who gave up His life on the cross and from His side, that side which has been opened in loving sacrifice, comes a spring of water and blood that brings to fruition the whole of history. From the ultimate self-sacrifice of Jesus springs forth blood and water, the Eucharist and baptism, as the source of a new community. The two rays emanating from the heart of the image of the Divine Mercy represents these two sacraments: the pale white light is baptism whereas the red ray represents the Eucharist. But the face of mercy is also that of the Risen Lord - it is His love, the God of Love, the God who is Love, encountering evil and death and overcoming it, healing it, redeeming it, and raising out of its ruins, surpassing goods that could never have been apart from these evils. This is best illustrated in the image of the Risen Lord who appears to His disciples behind closed doors, gifting them with the Holy Spirit, peace and forgiveness, instead of unleashing His wrath against their cowardice, failure and betrayal.

In the first reading, St Luke paints a somewhat ideal picture of the post-resurrection, post Pentecost Christian community - the Church of the early believers. It is a community to which anyone would wish to belong, a community where love prevails, where each member is attentive to the needs of others, where mercy rather than judgment and bickering is paramount. It is not surprising that their number was constantly on the increase. We may view this picture with envy as we contemplate our own broken and imperfect communities. We ask ourselves: what is the secret of their success? The passage shows us that the pillar of this community is the “breaking of bread,” the Eucharist, which bookends the passage. The source of their joy and spirit of generous sharing was the Eucharist. The highlight and focal point of their communal living was also the Eucharist. In other words, the Eucharist is indeed (borrowing the words of the Second Vatican Council) the “source and summit of Christian life,” of community life, and of ecclesial life.

In the second reading, St Peter tells us that in baptism, the Lord in “His great mercy has given us a new birth as his sons, by raising Jesus Christ from the dead, so that we have a sure hope and the promise of an inheritance that can never be spoilt or soiled and never fade away, because it is being kept for you in the heavens.” Baptism is the gateway to life in the Spirit and the door which gives access to the other sacraments. It is the wellspring of life and holiness, the drowning of sin and resurrection into new life. But baptism does not only make us coheirs with Christ but also incorporates us into the Body of Christ, the Church, washes away original sin, places us within the flow of God's mercy. In baptism, the Father adopts us, the sacrificial love of the Son conforms us to His Body, and the Spirit transfigures us into witnesses of the Good News.

If baptism initiates the life of grace and mercy, the Eucharist sustains it. Yet, our Lord adds another element, in fact another sacrament, to this winning formula of salvation. It is forgiveness and reconciliation. That is the reason why when our Lord rose from the dead, the first thing He did when He returned to His apostles was to confer on them the power and faculty to forgive and absolve sins. He had already given the Church the gift of the sacraments of Baptism and the Eucharist from the cross, but now He needed to ensure that the life of grace which He poured forth from His sacrificial death would continue to be renewed, healed, revived and sustained through the sacrament of penance. The extent of His mercy did not stop with the cross, it continues in Him forgiving us and reconciling us, continuously healing the wounds inflicted by our sins on His Body, the Church. Baptismal grace without the Eucharist would be unsustainable but the Eucharist without confession would be fruitless and untenable.

That is why on this Sunday of the Divine Mercy, we need to remember that God’s mercy is not just nice platitudes, excusing sinners without genuine repentance, approving immorality for the sake of appearing merciful, acceptance of all forms of lifestyles and behaviours without discernment and righteous judgment. Such mercy is false. God’s mercy is real, infinite, and tender—but it is not automatic. It requires sincere repentance, a firm purpose to change, and a willingness to avoid the near occasion of sin.

Sadly, in today’s world, many Catholics—both priests and penitents—treat the Sacrament of Penance like a burden to be avoided or a routine instead of a spiritual battle. They confuse God’s mercy with leniency, forgetting that true mercy always leads to conversion. God’s mercy is not a license to continue in sin—it is the bridge that leads to holiness. But to cross that bridge, we must walk with repentance, not sit down with indifference. To love a soul is to help it reach heaven, not to comfort it on the road to hell. As St John Chrysostom rightly taught: “Many souls are lost for lack of correction.” Or as the apostle James tells us: “Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, and this will cure you: the heartfelt prayer of a good man works very powerfully. My brothers, if one of you strays away from the truth, and another brings him back to it, he may be sure that anyone who can bring back a sinner from the wrong way that he has taken will be saving a soul from death and covering up a great number of sins.” (James 5:16,​19-20)

Today, the Church invites us to gaze on the holy image of the Divine Mercy. It is both the Crucified Lord who allowed His heart to be pierced and laid bare so that it can become the fount of mercy and the wellspring of sacramental graces. But the image also shows us the Risen Lord, the One who descended into hell and defeated our ancient enemies - sin, death and Satan - and now appears to us with His wounds as a victor’s trophy promising peace and reconciliation. This should be a description of the inner direction of our Christian life. We should look upon Him, keep the eyes of our heart turned upon Him, and thereby to grow more humble; to recognise our sins. As we look upon Him, let us take hope because He whom we have wounded is He who loves us. Jesus, I love you! Jesus, I trust in you!

My favour rests on Him

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

Several months ago, I attempted to provide a simple but lucid explanation of how God has favourites without having favourites. I’m not going to revisit that topic today for fear that I will be accused of being a broken record. Thank God for that! But I’m going to argue today that God does have one unique favourite person whom He loves above all else and I believe that none of you are going to protest and cry “not fair” because that person is none other than Jesus Himself, God’s Only Begotten Son, whom the Heavenly Father declares: “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.”

We can understand why God would favour our Lord Jesus Christ. Though we are all His children by adoption through baptism, Jesus alone is the unique only begotten Son of the Father, who has been with the Father from the very beginning and as we profess in the Creed: “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God”. If we are to compare ourselves with Him, the analogy of comparing an apple to an orange doesn’t even come close.

But with such special favour, there also arises a great mission and responsibility. Remember the Peter Parker principle from Spider-Man? “With great power comes great responsibility!” And this is why we hear in the first reading, what it means to be a favourite of God? The Spirit of the Lord is given to Him as we witness in the scene of the Baptism in order that He “may bring true justice to the nations.” He has been appointed “as covenant of the people and light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison, and those who live in darkness from the dungeon.” But there is a dark side to this mission. As the archetype for all fictional heroes, He must suffer, often in silence, in meekness, refusing to break or retaliate even when He is treated with humiliation and violence by His enemies. The Hero, the Anointed One, will be vilified and hated even though He saves the day. This is what the Beloved of God, the Favourite of God must endure. So, do you still want to be His favourite?

But we are indeed called to be God’s Beloved, called to be His favourites, all of us and not just some of us. Herein lies what I find to be the deepest mystery at the heart of baptism, and indeed at the heart of the whole sacramental order: there are certain actions Christ performed that, when performed by us within the context of His Body the Church, allow us to share in His very nature and mission in the world. In other words, Jesus did not come into the world merely to do things for us, but rather He came to open up through His humanity a way to participate in Him, to graft ourselves into His very life, to serve as He serves and to give our lives as He did. This is the mystery of the Incarnation - God became man so that men may become gods.

It is significant that this feast should take place on the first Sunday in Ordinary Time (even though there is no first Sunday in Ordinary Time). The reason being is that lectionary of Ordinary Time presents us with a scriptural catechesis of the very life and mission of Christ. And so this feast serves as an introduction to the entire life and mission of Christ. And should anyone have any doubt as to why we should even look to Christ as a model or imitate Him, the Church or God Himself gives the answer: “This is my Son, the Beloved; my favour rests on him.” If there should be anyone in this world that we should look up to and seek to emulate, there can be no better model than Jesus, God’s Beloved Son and Favourite.

For many of us, our most common and seemingly very human response to knowing that God has favourites, would be to view this person with envy. But is that the correct response? In fact, the Church is in the business of holding up human examples of those who seem to have found favour with God. We call them saints. The Church does this not because she wishes to see us seething with envy but because she wants us to be saints too. To be a saint, in fact to be a Christian, is to be more Christ-like. A Christian is a “little Christ.”

So, it is a foolish distraction to become discouraged or envious of someone else’s progress in holiness! When we run into other people or read about saints who experience a deep, intimate relationship with God, we are faced with a choice. We can either envy them this intimacy – becoming angry and vindictive towards them because they have achieved a degree of holiness that we have not achieved. Or we can emulate them – we can acknowledge the beauty of the holiness they have achieved and use their experience as a spur to our own efforts pursuing spiritual maturity. The second option is the better one: when we encounter people holier than ourselves, they should inspire us to continue following the “narrow road” (Matthew 7:14) that leads to the life we long for. So, my dear friends, as we begin this New Year, as we begin a new cycle of Ordinary Time, let your discouragement be driven out by hope; let your frustration be banished by faith; and let your frown be erased by love. Let Hebrews 12:1 be your baptismal and life’s motto: “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us.”

The Church is your Mother

Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Are you saved?

Twenty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Ultimate Reboot

Easter Vigil of the Holy Night

Some of you may know that I had just completed a cataract operation on both eyes. When the new multi-focal lens was inserted, I had issues adjusting to the darkened environment. I jokingly informed Fr Bonaventure that I’ve seen my last Easter Vigil Mass which begins in the dark and he happily quipped, “Yeah! I now have a chance to do the English Masses!” He was kidding as you can tell. The most unnerving part of the operation was to be told that a machine used for the procedure had to be rebooted. In fact, as my right eye was kept opened by a speculum whilst glaring into a blinding bright light above me, the only thing I could hear was my doctor telling the nurse and the technician to reboot the machine, not just once but several times until it finally restarted again. I’ve rebooted many devices in my life, my desktop computer, my laptop, my tablet and even my phone. Nothing comes close to this experience.

But after the agony of waiting for the machine to reboot, all the anxiety and discomfort and fears simply dissipated. With my cataracts removed, I now see with new eyes! That’s what Easter feels like - after a hard reset, the whole system gets rebooted, the whole fallen creation gets rebooted, the story of humanity which ends in failure gets rebooted. You need to end the cycle of sin and destruction before you can begin a new cycle of redemption and reconciliation.

Today we conclude this shortest and yet most intense and sacred time in our Church’s liturgical calendar - the Paschal Triduum. And though it may seem to be an ending, it is actually a beginning of many things. The Paschal Triduum is that hard reset and reboot which history and creation most needed. This should not surprise us as we had affirmed at the start of tonight’s liturgy, that Christ is the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and end of all things. Beginnings and endings are not two realities but one in Christ. As T. S. Eliot poignantly writes: “And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time” (The Four Quartets, “Little Gidding”).

Everything about this vigil’s liturgy, “the mother of all vigils,” speaks of beginnings and endings, which takes us on a journey from birth to rebirth, from creation to re-creation, from darkness to light, from death to life. From the blessing and procession of the Paschal Candle, the singing of the Easter proclamation to our marathon set of readings, we are pulled into this journey of transformation, not as mere spectators but as participants. Our Gospel begins with these words: “on the first day of the week, at the first sign of dawn…” This is an extraordinary text – so subtle and sophisticated. But it begs the question: what does it mean? The answer is found at the beginning, in the first reading.

The first day of the week mentioned in the Gospel, corresponds to the first day of creation in Genesis; and the lighting of the Paschal Candle in the midst of darkness matches the first act of creation, where God created light out of darkness. St Luke’s recapitulation of the creation narrative goes on. In Genesis, God creates the first human being, the first man, but at Easter, our Lord Jesus emerges from the womb of the tomb to be the firstborn of the new creation. God created all things, including man, and when He was finished, He looked at all He had made, and declared that it was “very good.” His original creation, however, was sullied and damaged. Once Adam chose to go against God’s Will, sin entered God’s created world, and sickness, decay, and death were introduced to humanity. God’s creation has suffered sin’s effects ever since.

Fast-forward to the time of Jesus’ life on earth. God the Son, the Word of God, entered humanity as a child born of Mary. He was fully God and fully man. His mission was to defeat the sin and death which had entered humanity through Adam. This second Adam lived a sinless life, was condemned and executed as a criminal, and was buried in a tomb. Three days later, He rose from the dead! He was resurrected! His resurrection was the first phase of God’s new creation, God’s cosmic reboot! God created a new kind of human existence—a human body which was raised from the dead and transformed by the power of God into a body that is no longer affected by death, decay, and corruption. Pope Emeritus Benedict described the resurrection of Christ as “something akin to a radical evolutionary leap, in which a new dimension of life emerges, a new dimension of human existence. Indeed, matter itself is remoulded into a new type of reality. The man Jesus, complete with His body, now belongs totally to the sphere of the divine and eternal.”

But then, there is the second phase in God’s plan of recreation. As Christians and as part of God’s new creation through our baptism, we can look forward to the time when, upon Christ’s return, He will raise our bodies from the dead! We will receive resurrected bodies like His. In these resurrected bodies, we will clearly see humanity as God intended it to be.

God’s new creation will not end with the resurrection of our bodies but goes beyond that. The third phase will involve all of creation being renewed as well. When Adam sinned, God cursed the ground. The world was no longer the sublime place God made it to be. Sin changed that. But because of Christ’s death and resurrection, His victory over sin and death, God will renew the entire world - He will remake it into “a new heaven and a new earth.”

The new creation which we speak of, is not just some static and unchanging reality. As part of the new creation, God’s Spirit is regularly renewing us, changing us, helping us to put on the mind of Christ. Dear Catechumens, today is not the end of your journey. It is not graduation day. It is an ending of a period of preparation, but this is only a beginning. Today is the day you will experience a hard reboot of your lives. What is fallen, will be redeemed. What is disfigured by sin would be beautified by grace. Vision clouded by the spiritual cataract of sin, can be renewed. As you allow the Holy Spirit to guide you, you will continually grow and mature in your spiritual lives in order that you may be renewed and become more Christlike.

Each year, we recapitulate this Easter story and each year it recreates us. It returns us to the ground of our being. We are asked to die to ourselves so that we may be reborn in Christ. We are given the chance to start over. Every Easter, we are reminded that we can bring all that befalls us to be reintegrated, redeemed, and recreated as we bring it back to our living source: Christ yesterday and today, the Beginning and the End, the Alpha and the Omega; All time belongs to Him and all the ages, to Him be glory and power, through every age and for ever. Amen.

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.”

Inwards to Outwards, Downwards to Upwards

First Sunday of Lent Year C

People have often noted that our society has become increasingly Godless or more atheistic. Is this true? There are countless of studies done in the West that seems to support this proposition. When surveyed, the majority of individuals state that they don’t identify with any religion. As Chesterton said, “He who does not believe in God will believe in anything.” Just recently, Lady Gaga when receiving her Grammy award, proudly declared: “music is love,” perhaps a deliberate spin on St John’s declaration that “God is love.”

We may be tempted (forgive the obvious pun) to focus merely on the temptations of Christ on this First Sunday of Lent, but the readings actually take us along another path of reflexion - what do we really believe in - the faith which we profess. You will notice that during the season of Lent and Easter, it is strongly recommended that the longer Nicene Creed is substituted with the shorter Apostles’ Creed. The reason for this substitution is not due to the brevity of the latter since our liturgies of Lent are typically lengthened by the Rites associated with the RCIA. The real reason is that the Apostles’ Creed is the creed used at baptism and the focus of both Lent and Easter is the Sacrament of Initiation, which begins with Baptism.

That is the reason why we have two ancient examples of professions of faith in today’s readings, the first predating Christianity, while the second is one of the earliest Christian creeds.

In the first reading, we have the ancient profession of faith which focuses on what God has done for the Israelites during the Exodus. Moses instructs the people that this creed is to be said by the priests when making an offering on behalf of the people, reminding them of the reason why the sacrifice is made. They should never forget that God is the very reason for their existence, their survival, and their freedom.

In the second reading, St Paul explains that the Christian profession of faith should focus on our belief in Jesus as Lord and what God has done by raising Him from the dead: “If your lips confess that Jesus is Lord and if you believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, then you will be saved. By believing from the heart you are made righteous; by confessing with your lips you are saved.”

Finally, in the gospel we come to realise that creeds are not just meant to be propositional (mere statements of belief) but are meant to be practical (to be lived out). Here we have the three temptations posed by Satan to the Lord. St Luke’s ordering of the temptations is slightly different from Matthew’s version (the second temptation is switched with the third). On the face of it, these three temptations appear to have nothing to do with our profession of faith but are in fact an inversion, a parody of our fundamental faith. Satan, the adversary of God and man, is attempting to lure our Lord into making a mockery of faith by professing a faith which places trust in His own resources and even in the devil, as opposed to placing our trust and faith in God. Before we affirm our faith in God, we must renounce our dependence on Satan.

This is the reason why during the rite of Baptism and the renewal of baptismal promises made at Easter and before one receives the Sacrament of Confirmation, the renunciation of sin is a necessary prelude to the profession of faith and both precedes the administering of the sacrament of baptism and confirmation. Because of the renunciation of sin and profession of faith, which forms one rite, the elect would not be baptised merely passively but will receive this great sacrament with the active resolve to renounce error and hold fast to God.

As I had mentioned earlier, St Luke’s ordering of the temptations differ from that of St Matthew’s. Unlike St Matthew, Luke concludes the list of temptations with the temptation that takes place within the Temple precinct and not on a mountaintop. Here, we witness the audacity of the devil to challenge God’s sovereignty, the ultimate basis of all temptations. These temptations are not merely luring Christ or each of us to place our trust in the cravings of the flesh or the material things of the world. Sin ultimately turns us away from God. The devil is actually selling us this lie - trust in your own desires, trust in your own power, trust in your own strength - because trusting in God is wholly insufficient! It is never enough!

The gospels in setting out these three temptations are trying to juxtapose to the experience of the Israelites in the wilderness with our Lord Jesus’ own experience. The three temptations of Jesus recall the three failures of the Israelites in the desert. Where the devil tempts the Lord to turn stones into bread, we see how the Israelites complained about the lack of food in the desert. Where the devil places our Lord on a mountain and promises Him lordship over the world if only He would bow and worship him, the Israelites questioned the lordship of God and instead worshipped an idol, a bronze calf. Where the devil tempts our Lord to test God, the devil had succeeded in getting the Israelites to test God while they were in the desert.

Satan was tempting Jesus to recapitulate the Israelites' lack of trust in God. Jesus would have nothing of it. In one of the most beautiful lines in Sacred Scripture, the letter to the Hebrews tells us, "We do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathise with our weaknesses, but we have one who in every respect has been tested as we are, yet never sinned" (Heb 4:15). The story ends with our Lord’s victory. Temptation does not necessarily lead to sin. If we hold fast to the Lord, and rely on His grace and strength, we will be victorious. Lent is the season when we are called to recapitulate our Lord’s victory over sin rather than the Israelites’ failure. The Church aids us in the battle by recommending the three practices of Lent – fasting, almsgiving and prayer. The practices of Lent are the remedy to the temptations of the Evil One.

At the end of this Lenten season, we will celebrate and profess the mystery of faith - the death and the resurrection of the Lord. At Easter, the priest will invite you to renew your baptismal promises with these words: “Dear brethren, through the Paschal Mystery we have been buried with Christ in Baptism, that we may walk with him in newness of life. And so, let us renew the promises of Holy Baptism, which we once renounced Satan and his works and promised to serve God in the holy Catholic Church.” We turn away from being ‘inwards and downwards’ to being ‘outwards and upwards.’ Having rejected Satan and all his works and empty promises, let us with firm conviction profess our faith publicly in God the Father and His works, in God the Son, Jesus Christ, and His works, and in God the Holy Spirit and His works. Those works, which the Lord has begun in us, will continue in us throughout this season of Lent and beyond until the Lord completes it when we go forth to meet Him as He returns in glory.

The Best Wine for the last

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The New Adam

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord Year C

The story of the baptism of the Lord is found in all four gospels with tiny but significant differences. In the Fourth Gospel, the account is reported speech or a hear say account by St John the Baptist, whereas Matthew, Mark and Luke record this event directly as if they had witnessed it or received the testimony of other witnesses. But in all three Synoptic gospels, we see both similarities and differences in the basic order. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all follow the same basic order of events: the appearance of St John the Baptist and an introduction to his ministry followed by the Baptism of the Lord.

Although both Matthew and Mark record that the Lord is baptised by John, Luke remains silent on this. We can only assume as the reader and from comparing this text with the other parallel texts, that our Lord was baptised by John. But this omission may in fact be deliberate. In fact, Luke may have wanted to emphasise that Jesus baptised Himself since no one was worthy to do so: “Jesus after his own baptism.” Unlike us who are adopted children of God through baptism, that is being baptised by another person, Jesus who is already the Son of God by nature had no need of such elevation or coronation. In Matthew and Mark, immediately after hearing the voice of the Father, Jesus is led by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted.

But Luke uniquely breaks the flow by offering us Jesus’ genealogy between the baptism and the temptation. This is a curious placement for a genealogy, and at first pass, it might seem to interrupt the flow of Luke’s narrative. We might expect Luke to place the genealogy at the beginning of his Gospel (such as we find in Matthew), or perhaps at the end of Luke chapter 1, right before Jesus’ birth. Yet Luke strategically places it here, just after our Lord’s baptism and prior to the episode on how the Lord endured temptations in the wilderness.

The key to understanding the placement of the genealogy is found within the genealogy itself. Unlike Luke, Matthew’s gospel is written to the Jewish community. As such, Matthew’s genealogy (presumably following Joseph’s line) links Jesus to King David, the greatest of the Jewish Kings, and then to Abraham, the father of the Jewish people. And there Matthew’s genealogy stops. But Luke’s gospel is written to a non-Jewish audience, and his genealogy does not focus on Jesus’ relation to Abraham. Instead, Luke (presumably following Mary’s line) traces Jesus all the way back to Adam, and then ultimately to God.

Matthew’s genealogy presents Jesus as the second David, a son of Abraham. Luke’s genealogy presents Jesus as the second Adam, a son of God. This should not come as a surprise to any reader of the Gospel of St Luke, as the angel had already announced to Mary at the Annunciation: “He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High.” But what is more surprising, unlike Matthew, Luke begins his genealogy with Jesus who is described as the Son of God and then traces it back to Adam, another son of God. In fact, the last name in the genealogy is not even Adam, it is God: “Adam, the son of God.” That this genealogy terminates with God Himself is a feature unparalleled in the ancient world, including the Old Testament. Having begun his genealogy with Jesus instead of Adam, Luke wishes to emphasise that Jesus’ identity had no need of validation by tracing his lineage back to Adam. On the contrary, it is Adam who is being validated and confirmed by his descendant, Jesus, the Son of Mary and the only begotten and Beloved Son of God.

And thus, Luke offers us the genealogy — linking Jesus to Adam, and ultimately to God — as a means of introducing Jesus’ temptation. With the placement and nature of his genealogy, Luke intends us to see Jesus’ wilderness temptation as a recapitulation of Adam’s garden temptation. It is Jesus — the descendent of Adam and the Son of God — who will overthrow the devil. Where Adam failed the test, Jesus will endure Satan’s temptations and remain faithful to the Father. Where the first Adam failed, the Second Adam would succeed.

So, what our Lord accomplished by nature, we enjoy through the grace, especially the grace of baptism. Most people often believe that baptism serves as a means of washing away our sins. It does. Others believe that it is a rite of passage which incorporates us into the “club,” the Church. That too happens. But most importantly, baptism incorporates us into the life of Christ. We follow Him into the waters of baptism to partake of His death and to die to our old selves but we also rise from the waters of baptism as a new creation, a Christian, in other words, a little Christ, as we now share in the graces of His resurrection. We cast aside our fallen nature which we inherited from the old Adam so that we may now be adorned with Christ, the new Adam, and because of this ontological or substantial change in us, we have now become sons and daughters of God. As the Catechism teaches: “Baptism not only purifies from all sins, but also makes the neophyte "a new creature," an adopted son of God, who has become a "partaker of the divine nature,” member of Christ and coheir with him, and a temple of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1265).

Herein lies the deepest mysteries of the Sacraments instituted by Christ for our salvation and growth in holiness. The Sacraments are not just “things” that we do, archaic ceremonies that are performed to appease God. Our Lord Jesus did not come into the world merely to do things for us, but rather He came to open up through His humanity a way to participate in His divinity, to graft ourselves into His very life. So, today as we celebrate the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord, let us remember with ever greater certitude that the heavenly voice that spoke “my Beloved” that day was referring no less to us than to Christ, that it applies in equal measure and with equal intensity to all of you who have been incorporated into Him “through the bath of rebirth.”

You complete me

Twenty Seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Be opened!

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Today’s text will trigger the ire of those with a penchant for the pedantic. As it is often said, “the devil is in the details!” Our Lord travels North before travelling eastward in order to make His way home to the South. A straight path in the direction of Galilee to the south of His current position would have been the most efficient and quickest way to get home. But our Lord chooses to make a round-a-bout detour to get to where He wishes to go. This is no coincidence nor directionless meandering. Everything our Lord does is calculated.

Today’s episode takes place again in Gentile or pagan territory, the Decapolis, the very lands where He was expelled after having exorcised the Gerasene demoniac. The reason for His summary dismissal is unclear. His healing and exorcism of the demoniac may have frightened the locals and the episode of the swine plunging into the sea in a lemming-like mass suicide and the ensuing economic loss to the owners may have been squarely blamed on Him. But here, the people of the area seem to have forgotten their past hostility. In today’s story, they see the Lord as a problem solver by bringing this deaf and mute man to meet the Lord.

Now we can assume that this deaf mute was also a local, thus a Gentile and not a Jew. It is indeed strange that our Lord would use an Aramaic word “Ephphatha” instead of some other more commonly known word in Greek, the lingua franca of the area. Well, it may be argued that this would not have made a difference since the man could not hear.

But it is the actions of our Lord which deserve our attention. To heal the man, the Lord placed His fingers in the man's ears and His spittle on the man's tongue. To us modern folks, this is indeed cringe worthy. Many have wondered why He did such things in healing the man. Some suggest that it was a sign that gave the Gentile man additional confidence that Jesus was in fact healing him, for Gentiles sometimes employed such methods in their attempts to heal people. Others have proposed that this foreshadows the outpouring of the blood of Christ that will bring full restoration not only to our souls but finally to our bodies in the new heaven and earth.

Perhaps, the depths and significance of this miracle is lost on the deaf mute and the audience, but every Jew was seeing in this miracle the fulfilment of the Old Testament prophecies which we had just heard in the first reading: “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy.” Our Lord would subsequently heal both the blind and the lame and complete the list of healings mentioned in the prophecy. But these miracles are merely signs pointing to a far greater prophecy of Isaiah: “Look, your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; he is coming to save you.” Our Lord is no mere wandering miracle worker. He is the promised Saviour not just of Israel but of the whole world. In fact, His name “Jesus” means “God saves.”

But the Gospel intends to go beyond showing us the ability of our Lord to physically heal the deaf and fulfil the prophecies of the Old Testament. The deaf mute man is a symbol of humanity, of modern society in particular. We are witnessing a society that has grown deaf to God, a society that is no longer “open” to the voice of God speaking through every man’s conscience, a society that can no longer speak or communicate with God because it has lost the vocabulary of prayer. And when man ceases to listen and speak to God, he can no longer authentically communicate with his neighbour. Although we often boast of living in an Information Age with the most sophisticated means of communication available at our finger tips, there is a lack of deep meaningful communication that builds community.

We could say that the world has become deaf and tongue-tied! How is it possible to listen to the Divine voice while tuning into the clamour of the television, the internet and so many other things? Ears filled with a hankering for the things of this world cannot distinguish the voice of the Almighty, for it is impossible to pay attention to two conversations simultaneously. Either one speaks with God, or with Satan! Today no one speaks of God, of the striving for sanctity, the hatred that we should have for sin or the great risk that modern man runs of being thrown eternally into hell. In general, people’s lives revolve around personal concerns, trivial matters inflated beyond reality, while choosing to be forgetful of the Creator and supernatural realities. Those who do not externalise their love for the Lord through prayer and an intimate relationship with Him, are deaf by choice.

If we sense our own deafness in the face of this grave scenario, we ought to ask ourselves: what is the solution? This Sunday’s Gospel does not only diagnose the problem but provides us with the cure. We must approach the Lord in faith through His sacraments and His Church. When we encounter our Lord in the sacraments in which He instituted, we too are similarly transformed and our spiritual senses healed. Our vision, our hearing, our sense of touch, taste and smell should be overhauled by a glimpse of God’s Truth, Beauty and Goodness. That is why our churches must be beautiful and our liturgies rich in symbolism and grandeur. Beauty is not just a matter of aesthetics nor is it a question of personal taste. It is meant to open the “eyes of faith,” to put in sharp focus and vivid colour, what God is bringing about in the world. We have become too over familiar and comfortable with our own iconoclastic and white-washed churches. We have become blind and deaf to the means by which God wishes to communicate to us.

Just like our Lord looking up at the very final moment before the deaf man is healed, our common mundane everyday human situation is elevated into the presence of God in these moments when we encounter Him in the beauty and elegance of our churches and liturgy. Beauty, justice, love, and mercy are no longer external to us but now we participate intimately with their source in the triune God. Heaven and earth overlap, time collapses.

Life and reality viewed through the sacraments put our most basic assumptions on trial. God is not somewhere else, too busy, or unconcerned with the created order. Instead, all of creation is “charged” with the goodness of God and every inch of it participates in the life of God sacramentally. In this way, the sacraments and sacramentals serve as a revelation of sorts, a window into what is most real, and helps us wonder more truly about what God is doing in the world. Through and in the sacraments and sacramentals, we hear our Lord’s command once again: “Ephphatha!” “Be opened!” They help us to see sacredness even in the midst of human depravity, wealth in the midst of poverty, and redemption in the midst of human fallenness.

Food that endures for eternity

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Since last week, our lectionary seems to have taken a detour, a necessary one, away from the Gospel of St Mark. For the next few weeks, we will be treated to the Bread of Life Discourse found in Chapter 6 of John’s Gospel which follows John’s account of the miracle of multiplication of loaves and feeding of the multitude. If the account of the Last Supper in the gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke provide us with the “when” was the sacrament of the Eucharist instituted, John Chapter 6 provides us with the answer to “what” and “why” was it instituted. But all three synoptic gospels also provide us with a similar clue as to “what” was instituted when they all recorded our Lord as saying: “this is my Body” and “this is my Blood.” Of course, it can be argued and has been argued by the Protestants that our Lord was speaking metaphorically. But to dispel all doubts about what our Lord meant by these words, we have to turn to John’s gospel and to this chapter in particular.

The discourse begins with a parallel made between the manna which God gave to Moses and the Israelites in the desert and what our Lord had just done when He miraculously multiplied the loaves of bread and fish to feed the multitude. But that is not the only parallel. In fact, the underlying parallel which the people were seeking was to determine if our Lord was the new Moses.

Last week’s gospel concluded by telling us that the Lord literally had to run away from the crowds before they could make Him their king. And our gospel today begins by telling us that the people were looking for the Lord to see if He was the earthly messiah they were waiting for who would be a king and lead them; for they believed that when the messiah would come, he would act like a New Moses who would feed and save them from their oppressors as Moses did. But when they found the Lord, He immediately dispelled their expectations, “I tell you most solemnly, you are not looking for me because you have seen the signs but because you had all the bread you wanted to eat.” If we were part of the crowd, these words would have stung us to the core. It is true that we are often ruled by our stomach and other baser instincts than we are of spiritual values. Case in point – if you want a good turnout at a church event, make sure you provide good food – preferably free!

Our Lord, continues to clarify His true mission and what He can really offer them: “Do not work for food that cannot last, but work for food that endures to eternal life, the kind of food the Son of Man is offering you, for on him the Father, God himself, has set his seal.” Our Lord is telling them that they shouldn’t seek Him out just because they want more earthly food, or an earthly king and leader, but they should actually come looking for Him because He can give them food that endures to eternal life; which only He alone can give.

Not satisfied, His audience, just like the Israelites of old, asks our Lord for another sign, they want Him to work another miracle to show and prove that He is the Messiah in order for them to believe, apparently the multiplication of the loaves wasn’t enough and they were simply not listening to what He had just said! The benchmark for this sign which they demanded must be one that can rival the miracle of manna from heaven which Moses had performed. For them, there has been no greater miracle in Israel’s collective history than the mysterious bread which seemed to have dropped miraculously from the heavens and saved them from extinction by starvation. And in their limited reasoning, they saw Moses as the hero behind this miracle.

Our Lord then makes a correction and provides this reality check - Moses isn’t the real catalyst of this miracle but God. Our Lord clarifies: “it is my Father who gives you the bread from heaven, the true bread; for the bread of God is that which comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” It seems this time, our Lord’s words hit home, and His audience consumed it lock stock and barrel. They immediately request that He gives them this bread always.

But nothing prepared them for what is to follow. They were not ready for our Lord’s next explanation. “I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never be hungry; he who believes in me will never thirst.” It is clear that He was not going to repeat the miracle of manna but rather offering Himself as the solution. This is the first time that our Lord introduces Himself as “the bread of life” but it would not be His last time. It would serve as a refrain throughout the discourse in Chapter 6 and we will get to hear it again for the next couple of weeks.

So, in contrast to the story of Moses and the manna in the first reading, we have in the gospel something far greater and more superior. It must be noted that God did not just provide bread as food for the Israelites in their sojourn in the desert. He also gave them meat, in the form of the flesh of quails. The manna appeared in the morning and the quails in the evening. Now, let us look at what our Lord did, not just in the miracle of multiplication but also at the Last Supper when He instituted the Eucharist. Our Lord uses the understanding of the Manna to teach that God wants to give us in the Eucharist, the new Manna, the true bread from Heaven, which will give life to the world. For it is not just a coincidence that the miraculous food God regularly gave the Israelites in the desert was flesh and bread. In the Eucharist, though it has the appearance of bread, it is truly the body and blood, the living flesh of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And like the Manna, the Eucharist will not be ordinary bread, or bread that they would recognise, but unlike the manna it will not be temporary, only last for a time, but the Eucharist, the new bread of life, will endure to eternal life. And so, the people ask our Lord to “give them this bread always”. And our Lord answers them, “I am the bread of life”. Jesus is declaring to all the world, “I am the new Manna, I am the bread that will be given for the life the world.”

And so, my brothers and sisters, even though the Eucharist looks like ordinary bread, it is not. And although some might think our Lord was only speaking metaphorically, He wasn’t. It is clear that the Manna, just as the Eucharist, was not a metaphor, or a figure of speech. For the Israelites testified that the Manna was not a metaphor, but it was real food that was eaten and which sustained them until they reached the Promised Land. For us, the Eucharist too is real food, but in a so much more astounding way. The Eucharist is the Body of Christ and it will continue to sustain us spiritually in this earthly exile of ours until we reach our heavenly homeland. So let us take the Lord at His word, let us believe by faith that Jesus is as He says He is, the bread of life which will give eternal life to the world, and that anyone who comes to Him and believes in Him will no longer hunger or thirst for any other paltry substitute.

The Second Plank after the Shipwreck

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Most folks would be familiar with the other parable involving two sons, though the focus in the Gospel of St Luke seems to be on the younger son who is a wastrel, but ironically called the Prodigal Son. The two sons in that famous parable are morally ambivalent - they are neither purely good nor purely bad. This is understandable since the focus is on the character of the father.

But here, in Matthew’s parable of two sons, the moral lines are clearly drawn between good and bad, light and darkness. And yet, Matthew acknowledges how someone good may end up bad and someone bad, may eventually turn good. Those in the light can fall into darkness as easily as those who are in the darkness can be redeemed and brought into the light.

The parable draws a contrast between the early response of the two sons to the father’s request to “go and work in the vineyard today” and their actual response at the end of the story. Don’t be too quick to judge either son. We need to stay around till the end to see the actual outcome and we will be surprised by the ending. The son who refused at the beginning, relents and then does the job. The other son acquiesces without any protest when first asked but then chooses to do nothing. Our Lord poses this question to His disciples, “Which of the two did the father’s will?” And just like the disciples, our answer would be “the first.”

The lesson in this parable is restated by our Lord in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘It is not anyone who says to me, “Lord, Lord” who will enter the kingdom of Heaven, but the person who does the will of my Father in Heaven’. It is no use simply saying that Christ is our ‘Lord’, we have to express it in our behaviour.

What is the difference between the first son and the second? The actions of both sons show that no position is written in stone and that they are subject to change - sometimes for the better and sometimes for the worse. The change that we are looking at as instrumental to our salvation is repentance. If sin is clearly demonstrated as disobedience, the first son, after open refusal, repents of his sin—better late than never—and goes to work for his father. He overcomes and changes from bad to good. After experiencing the negative results of sin, he yields to his father’s instruction, changing direction and does as his father commanded him—the fruit of his repentance.

Repentance can change the outcome of the story of every man or woman, even the greatest sinner. What is repentance? The Greek word we translate as “repentance” is metanoia (the verb “to repent” is metanoeo), and it means “to change your mind.” Metanoia’s Hebrew counterpart is tshuva, which means “to return.” So when the Lord says, “Repent and believe in the gospel,” He is basically saying: change your mind about sin and return to God by believing the good news! In order to be saved, we must repent. Repentance means not just running back to God, but running away from anything that would keep us from God. Our call to repentance is really our call to conversion. It is our call not just to change, but to become our most authentic selves as children of God.

For us Catholics, repentance is not just a private act of contrition where we confess our sins to God directly and hope for His forgiveness. Many often wonder whether God has truly forgiven their sins or continues to hold it against them. There seems to be no way of verifying except to rely on our gut feelings. But the good news is that we do not have to speculate as to whether our sins have really been forgiven or we remain entrapped. One of the most important sacraments, the sacrament of penance or popularly known as confession, provides a penitent with an objective confirmation. Through the ministry of the priest, the penitent will get a definitive answer when the words of absolution are pronounced over the person: “God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, + and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” It is a shame when this sacrament is so underappreciated and so underutilised for our growth in holiness. It is important to remember that long lines for holy communion is not the barometer for a spiritually vibrant church unless it is matched by long lines to the confessional.

I like the image found in the description of the early fathers of the Church when they call this sacrament “the second plank [of salvation] after the shipwreck which is the loss of grace.” (CCC 1446). Imagine that: God throws us a plank after the shipwreck of sin which has caused us to lose saving grace. This sacrament is visible assurance that God has not abandoned us. He has not written us off as incorrigible. He has not dismissed us as irredeemable. Just like the first son, we too may have said “no” to His invitation to go into the vineyard and work, but He always keeps a door and window open for us to return and make up for lost time and opportunity. God throws us a plank after our lives and the lives of others have been shipwrecked by sin!

Most of us know what it means to live with regret. Lost opportunities may never be recovered. But not in the area of grace. God offers us countless opportunities before our death to repent, to amend our lives, to change our decision and remake our path before it is too late. But let us not live with the presumption that we will have more time which gives us cause to delay our repentance and return to do His will. Let us not think that we are secure just because we have got it right at the start. The challenge is to keep on the right path faithfully to the very end and to immediately repent, should we stray. As the prophet Ezekiel warns us in the first reading: “When the upright man renounces his integrity to commit sin and dies because of this, he dies because of the evil that he himself has committed. When the sinner renounces sin to become law-abiding and honest, he deserves to live. He has chosen to renounce all his previous sins; he shall certainly live; he shall not die.”