Twenty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
Today, “synodality” has become the most popular catchword in ecclesial lingo. The 3 years process which culminated in the Synod on Synodality sought to promote “a process of listening and discernment.” This has sparked hope in some Catholics but deep concern in others. Why would something so innocent sounding be even construed as controversial? The real issue is not the word but the understanding, or using modern lingo “the POV” (point of view), regarding its meaning: is this synodal process a true exercise of ecclesial communion, like those experienced by the Church Fathers, or an attempt by the progressive camp to impose a new ecclesiology that dilutes sacred authority in favour of human consensus, which ultimately leads to change in doctrine?
The Greek etymology of the word “synod” suggests that we are fellow travellers journeying together, walking along the same path, sharing the same experiences, ups-and-downs of life, facing the same trials and challenges and therefore we should look at common ways of making decisions to chart our common path. When translated to ecclesial governance, it would even suggest that the governance of the Church should not be left to a group of celibate old men who have little or no experience of the real world. Instead of a top-down way of governing and making decisions, it should be a grassroots based approach, with our ears constantly to the ground.
But authentic Synodality has always had three characteristics: firstly, it was hierarchical - the successors of the Apostles, or the bishops, guided by the Holy Spirit, discerned in communion with the Pope (last week, we heard how the keys of the Kingdom were conferred upon Peter and his successors and not to every Tom, Dick and Harry); secondly, it was always doctrinally faithful, in that such consensus could not reinvent the faith but defended the Tradition received from Christ and transmitted through the Apostles, because any consensus cannot just be of members of a particular generation and among contemporaries but across the ages; and finally, such Synodality was exercised with a pastoral orientation - which basically means seeking the salvation of souls rather than adaptation to the world and pandering to the feelings of the crowd. Let us not forget the caution issued by St Paul in the second reading: “Do not model yourselves on the behaviour of the world around you, but let your behaviour change, modelled by your new mind. This is the only way to discover the will of God and know what is good, what it is that God wants, what is the perfect thing to do.”
The problem is that today, many misconstrue synodality as a purely horizontal process where the entire People of God would have a say in matters of faith and morals, as if the Church were a democracy. The tension which the prophet Jeremiah experienced in the first reading illustrates this point. Jeremiah is called to faithfully announced the word of God even though most of the people hated him for this message. There are certainly many good points that emerge from this concept of Synodality, at least the perception of it. It takes a popular approach, in that the masses are consulted before any decision is taken for the betterment of the church, in theory at least. It transplants a democratic model into a traditionally monarchical and hierarchical form of governance. But many have also expressed concerns about the limitations of such a model as opposed to the traditional hierarchical one. This form of democratic synodality absolutely denies the divine nature of the Church and her teachings which is not a product of human consensus but divine revelation.
The idea of walking together still begs the question: in which direction are we walking? Who gets to decide the path and the destination? In practical terms, this would be impossible in an egalitarian democracy where everyone’s path is respected because we will not arrive in the same direction if each of us decide to take our own path. Walking together would also be an oxymoron if each person is allowed to take his own path and even if we were to decide on one path among the many, which path would it be? The gospel provides us with the clear solution. We can only take the path of Christ as He teaches today, “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and follow me.” If one decides to choose one’s own path, even if there is a consensus among us, we are taking the path of Satan rather than that of Christ. St Peter made that very mistake when he objected to Christ’s taking the path of the Way of the Cross. He who was supposed to be a foundation stone for the Church, a stepping stone for other followers of Christ, became a stumbling block the moment he stood before Christ to impede the latter’s path.
In the final document of the Synod of Synodality, the concept was defined in this way, “Synodality is the walking together of Christians with Christ and towards God’s Kingdom, in union with all humanity.” I think it is not enough to speak of us walking “with Christ” but rather more scripturally accurate to speak of us walking “after Christ”, sequela Christi, following Him instead of each other’s whim and fancy, for only Christ is the “Way, the Truth and the Life.” This is what St John affirmed in his second epistle: “and this is love, that we walk according to his commandments; this is the commandment just as you have heard it from the beginning—you must walk in it” (2 John 1:6). Without Christ, synodality breaks down completely. If I am headed east, and you want to go west, the conversation breaks down quickly. And then Synodality is nominally reduced to a useful tool in the hands of the strongest, the loudest, the one who commands the bully pulpit and orders others: “you listen when I speak.”
It is always a good thing to listen to the cries and pleas of the people but it is a far more important thing to listen to the voice of Christ speaking through the Holy Spirit in the Church. We should not make the mistake of drowning out the very voice that matters most of all by pandering to the demands of competing voices, even if they were the voices of those whom we perceive to be marginalised. If we propose to “walk together” as a “synodal” Church, the first order of business should be to determine whether we are headed in the right direction by following Christ. The litmus test can never be self-realisation or self-assertion as the world demands, but rather the Christian way of self-denial: “For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it.” We can know and understand the Gospel of Jesus Christ fully and correctly only with the aid of the Church which Christ established, along with its Magisterium which Christ continues to guarantee. Clearly, then, true synodality can exist only in the service of the Gospel.
This is what we are about as we continue to strive to be a synodal church. First, that there is no rallying point without fidelity to the Gospel; second, that there is no safe gathering place without the authority of Christ’s Church; and, third, that there is no salvation without Jesus Christ. In other words, if synodality will now be understood as “a way together” inspired by the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Life and guaranteed by the teaching authority of the Church He founded, then synodality will no longer be a waste of time, but a hope and a prayer and even a method for the conversion of the world.
Showing posts with label counter cultural. Show all posts
Showing posts with label counter cultural. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 26, 2026
Monday, July 13, 2026
Find peace through His strength
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
One of Donald Trump’s defining ideologies which is the foundation of his military and foreign policies is “peace through strength.” He argues that America has often been bullied, exploited and manipulated in the past because it had demonstrated weakness instead of strength, a readiness to surrender and compromise instead of fighting to win. Sounds absolutely logical and the proof is to be found in the successes he has racked up in his administration’s foreign policies governing economic relations, internal, regional and international security. If you can’t get your enemies to like you, you could at least get them to fear and respect you. As he humorously and unabashedly declared as he walked into a room of world leaders in the recent G7 summit, “I am the Boss.”
As sound as this human doctrine appears to many of us, it has no basis in scripture, or at least, not in the sense the world understands strength and power. The notion of “peace through strength” is utterly foreign to the Bible. In fact, a quest for military strength is a sign of unbelief. Peace is the will of God for all creation and not something which could be wrought by human efforts alone, what more with a show of force and strength.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden expresses God’s original intention for the world. Here we find a harmonious, nonviolent existence where there is room for partnership, love and creativity but not for deadly conflict. The disruption of peace was the result of the fragmentation of right relations, first of all with God, and then, with other humans and with creation itself. The parable of the wheat and darnel demonstrates this biblical truth. God as symbolised by the farmer only sows good seeds, all that is created by Him is good, seeds that would ensure a harmonious relationship between God and men and fellow men. God is not the author of evil. It is the enemy, the devil, who sows the seeds of discord, confusion and sin. God had no hand in this. And this is what we observe in today’s world, a mixture of good and bad, of light and darkness. As much as we wish to be cleansed and purged of the undesirables in our lives, we must endure them till the very end. The good news is that we won’t have to endure the bad for eternity. There will be a time of harvesting, of separating, of accounting, where the good will be vindicated and the evil punished.
The parable also makes a stark contrast between the patience and wisdom of the owner of the field and his servants. The servants are impatient to root out the darnel and they should have been rightly commended for their quick action but instead they are reminded by the prudent owner that this may cause greater harm to the wheat whose fate are intimately intertwined with the growing darnel. This shows us the nature of God which is expressly described in the first reading - God’s strength is found in His apparent leniency - “Your justice has its source in strength, your sovereignty over all makes you lenient to all..” This seems to be a paradox, perhaps one could treat this as the ultimate paradox - that God would manifest His strength by making Himself vulnerable. But isn’t this what the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery is all about? The Creator of the Universe deliberately chose to become a fragile human being, from a baby being cared for by His human parents, to ultimately suffering the indignity of being sentenced and executed as a criminal, although He was wholly innocent.
The author of Wisdom continues by declaring: “You show your strength when your sovereign power is questioned and you expose the insolence of those who know it; but, disposing of such strength, you are mild in judgement, you govern us with great lenience, for you have only to will, and your power is there.” In a way, this is what frustrates us most about God. We measure Him by our standards as we believe Him to behave very much like we do - as if His kindness were as slight as our kindness, His forgiveness as reluctant as our forgiveness, His patience as fleeting as our patience. We would wish for Him to take out our enemies as swiftly as possible so that we would not need to tolerate their annoying and painful presence. We demand swift justice and any delay would be deemed as an injustice. If we were God in heaven, we would have grown impatient with people like us long ago. But, Thank God, we are not. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that “as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:9).
The God we meet in Scripture is a relentlessly patient God. He usually accomplishes His plans along the winding path. He fulfills His promises without haste. When we demand “Now,” He replies, “Wait!” “God is patient” means not mainly that God waits a long time, that He dilly dallies, but that God shows long-suffering kindness to sinners (Romans 2:4). The master in the parable protects the wheat by delaying the uprooting. God prioritises the safety and nurturing of His people over the immediate eradication of evil. His patience allows both the "wheat" and the "darnel" to grow together, giving every opportunity for growth, maturity and conversion.
This does not mean that justice delayed is justice denied. God does not ignore evil indefinitely. He establishes a clear, definitive boundary at the final "harvest" where justice will ultimately prevail. At the end of the parable we are told, judgment would come, as the darnel are collected with the good harvest and commended to destruction in the fire. God does not destroy them immediately; He does not forsake them. Instead, He reveals His true nature: “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6). So, to the question on everyone’s mind: Why does full judgment tarry and mercy beckon? Because, unlike us, God is “slow to anger.” His wrath visits the unrepentant (Exodus 34:7), but only after taking the slow path. Meanwhile, His mercy stands ready to be offered, at any time and in any place. St Peter offers us this answer in his second epistle: “Think of our Lord’s patience as your opportunity to be saved” (2 Peter 3:15).
Understanding how God thinks and acts provides us with some important rules of life for our emulation.
First, leniency and generosity, is always a sign of strength rather than of weakness, just as it is always the stronger person who apologises first and takes the initiative to make amends.
Second, we must trust the process. Growth takes time. Be patient with yourself as you are called to be patient with others. The devil’s greatest weapon is despair, making you feel that all your sacrifices and efforts are futile, so that you will be tempted to give up before you get to see the end. We must possess the “good hope that after sin you will grant repentance” and St Paul reassures us that “the Spirit comes to help us in our weakness.”
Third, we must acknowledge that we cannot see the full picture until the very end. Present struggles are temporary. All mysteries will be revealed, all things will be made clear, all answers will be provided on the Last Day, the Day of Judgement. Until then, we need to accept blurred lines that colour much of life. In life, good and bad are often deeply intertwined. Patience means accepting that we cannot always cleanly separate or fix every situation immediately. And because we have a limited vision of others and ourselves, we need to learn to let go of the need to play judge and instead, trust in God’s omniscient wisdom and ultimate schedule. You will find peace through His strength.
One of Donald Trump’s defining ideologies which is the foundation of his military and foreign policies is “peace through strength.” He argues that America has often been bullied, exploited and manipulated in the past because it had demonstrated weakness instead of strength, a readiness to surrender and compromise instead of fighting to win. Sounds absolutely logical and the proof is to be found in the successes he has racked up in his administration’s foreign policies governing economic relations, internal, regional and international security. If you can’t get your enemies to like you, you could at least get them to fear and respect you. As he humorously and unabashedly declared as he walked into a room of world leaders in the recent G7 summit, “I am the Boss.”
As sound as this human doctrine appears to many of us, it has no basis in scripture, or at least, not in the sense the world understands strength and power. The notion of “peace through strength” is utterly foreign to the Bible. In fact, a quest for military strength is a sign of unbelief. Peace is the will of God for all creation and not something which could be wrought by human efforts alone, what more with a show of force and strength.
The story of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden expresses God’s original intention for the world. Here we find a harmonious, nonviolent existence where there is room for partnership, love and creativity but not for deadly conflict. The disruption of peace was the result of the fragmentation of right relations, first of all with God, and then, with other humans and with creation itself. The parable of the wheat and darnel demonstrates this biblical truth. God as symbolised by the farmer only sows good seeds, all that is created by Him is good, seeds that would ensure a harmonious relationship between God and men and fellow men. God is not the author of evil. It is the enemy, the devil, who sows the seeds of discord, confusion and sin. God had no hand in this. And this is what we observe in today’s world, a mixture of good and bad, of light and darkness. As much as we wish to be cleansed and purged of the undesirables in our lives, we must endure them till the very end. The good news is that we won’t have to endure the bad for eternity. There will be a time of harvesting, of separating, of accounting, where the good will be vindicated and the evil punished.
The parable also makes a stark contrast between the patience and wisdom of the owner of the field and his servants. The servants are impatient to root out the darnel and they should have been rightly commended for their quick action but instead they are reminded by the prudent owner that this may cause greater harm to the wheat whose fate are intimately intertwined with the growing darnel. This shows us the nature of God which is expressly described in the first reading - God’s strength is found in His apparent leniency - “Your justice has its source in strength, your sovereignty over all makes you lenient to all..” This seems to be a paradox, perhaps one could treat this as the ultimate paradox - that God would manifest His strength by making Himself vulnerable. But isn’t this what the Incarnation and the Paschal Mystery is all about? The Creator of the Universe deliberately chose to become a fragile human being, from a baby being cared for by His human parents, to ultimately suffering the indignity of being sentenced and executed as a criminal, although He was wholly innocent.
The author of Wisdom continues by declaring: “You show your strength when your sovereign power is questioned and you expose the insolence of those who know it; but, disposing of such strength, you are mild in judgement, you govern us with great lenience, for you have only to will, and your power is there.” In a way, this is what frustrates us most about God. We measure Him by our standards as we believe Him to behave very much like we do - as if His kindness were as slight as our kindness, His forgiveness as reluctant as our forgiveness, His patience as fleeting as our patience. We would wish for Him to take out our enemies as swiftly as possible so that we would not need to tolerate their annoying and painful presence. We demand swift justice and any delay would be deemed as an injustice. If we were God in heaven, we would have grown impatient with people like us long ago. But, Thank God, we are not. The prophet Isaiah reminds us that “as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts” (Isaiah 55:9).
The God we meet in Scripture is a relentlessly patient God. He usually accomplishes His plans along the winding path. He fulfills His promises without haste. When we demand “Now,” He replies, “Wait!” “God is patient” means not mainly that God waits a long time, that He dilly dallies, but that God shows long-suffering kindness to sinners (Romans 2:4). The master in the parable protects the wheat by delaying the uprooting. God prioritises the safety and nurturing of His people over the immediate eradication of evil. His patience allows both the "wheat" and the "darnel" to grow together, giving every opportunity for growth, maturity and conversion.
This does not mean that justice delayed is justice denied. God does not ignore evil indefinitely. He establishes a clear, definitive boundary at the final "harvest" where justice will ultimately prevail. At the end of the parable we are told, judgment would come, as the darnel are collected with the good harvest and commended to destruction in the fire. God does not destroy them immediately; He does not forsake them. Instead, He reveals His true nature: “The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Exodus 34:6). So, to the question on everyone’s mind: Why does full judgment tarry and mercy beckon? Because, unlike us, God is “slow to anger.” His wrath visits the unrepentant (Exodus 34:7), but only after taking the slow path. Meanwhile, His mercy stands ready to be offered, at any time and in any place. St Peter offers us this answer in his second epistle: “Think of our Lord’s patience as your opportunity to be saved” (2 Peter 3:15).
Understanding how God thinks and acts provides us with some important rules of life for our emulation.
First, leniency and generosity, is always a sign of strength rather than of weakness, just as it is always the stronger person who apologises first and takes the initiative to make amends.
Second, we must trust the process. Growth takes time. Be patient with yourself as you are called to be patient with others. The devil’s greatest weapon is despair, making you feel that all your sacrifices and efforts are futile, so that you will be tempted to give up before you get to see the end. We must possess the “good hope that after sin you will grant repentance” and St Paul reassures us that “the Spirit comes to help us in our weakness.”
Third, we must acknowledge that we cannot see the full picture until the very end. Present struggles are temporary. All mysteries will be revealed, all things will be made clear, all answers will be provided on the Last Day, the Day of Judgement. Until then, we need to accept blurred lines that colour much of life. In life, good and bad are often deeply intertwined. Patience means accepting that we cannot always cleanly separate or fix every situation immediately. And because we have a limited vision of others and ourselves, we need to learn to let go of the need to play judge and instead, trust in God’s omniscient wisdom and ultimate schedule. You will find peace through His strength.
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Monday, June 15, 2026
Swimming against the tide
Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
From the moment of our birth, we are plunged into a world which simultaneously expects us to stand out, yet fit in; encourages us to be an individual, but to behave according to the norm; desires us to be creative, but within the parameters of approval; demands that we bring about societal change, so long as we do not upset or offend those around us. This is at the heart of the modern paradox where we are taught to be unique and yet placed under so much pressure to conform. Society often commercialises "individuality." We are encouraged to express uniqueness through consumer choices (what we buy, wear, or post), while the underlying systems—education, career paths, and social etiquette—demand strict uniformity.
Unfortunately, even when it comes to religion, such prevailing currents subtly seduce us towards the lowest common denominator, never encouraging us to rise above or strive to achieve greater heights. When someone strives for perfection and holiness, he is immediately put down: “Don’t try to be so holy” or mocked and ridiculed with the label “holey moley.” This should not be so. The life of a Christian must always go against the flow. Instead of mediocrity, he is called by the Lord to perfection. Instead of just fitting in, he is called to stand out. That means risking putting your head on the chopping block.
I am reminded of G. K. Chesterton’s statement in The Everlasting Man: “A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.” Likewise, a true Christian goes against the current of our sinful age; a false one is swept away by its swiftness. Any weak Christian can live like the world; it takes a vital, healthy faith to enable someone to stand on their convictions, firm against the tide of opinion and every fashionable and popular trend that draws our fancy.
In the first reading, we have the prophet Jeremiah bewailing his pitiful situation where he is being persecuted and hemmed in from all sides by his detractors, some of whom had been his friends. He complains that the Lord had ‘seduced’ him so that he cannot stop prophesying disaster. His suffering, pain and anxiety are real - there is no doubt about this. He understands that if he stops proclaiming the truth, the persecution will stop, his friends will return, the situation will normalise. The logical solution, the urge to survive, is just to shut up and fit in. But then instead of giving up and giving in, Jeremiah proclaims his faith: “But the Lord is at my side, a mighty hero …Sing to the Lord, praise the Lord, for he has delivered the soul of the needy from the hands of evil men.”
Rather than allow his emotional and physical torment to move him to abandon his mission, Jeremiah doubles down on his resolve to remain faithful, to persist in trusting God, despite all the challenges that are thrown at him. His story is a lesson for us too. When our hearts align with God’s values, we will view the dangers around us differently. Death, discomfort, and dire circumstances don’t have the same sting when we have God’s eternal perspective. When God’s values and our values align, we will understand what is most important and live out the purpose we were created for. Life is ultimately about seeking God’s approval and not men’s.
Throughout the gospels and especially in today’s gospel passage, our Lord repeatedly tells us, “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid of speaking the Truth; do not be afraid of intimidation from those who wish to silence you: do not be afraid of opposition, persecution and even martyrdom at the hands of your enemies; do not be afraid because we are of great worth in the eyes of God. At the end of the day, do not be afraid of proclaiming the gospel.
There is no denying that it is tempting to stop preaching the gospel or to soften the message in order to make things easier and protect ourselves from suffering and opposition. That’s part of the survival mechanism. But that should not be the goal of our lives. Our purpose is not just survival, getting by, avoiding conflict, being liked. Our ultimate purpose in life is salvation and nothing should ever get in the way of this even though this may mean walking a lonely path. Jesus gives this important reminder in Chapter 16: “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?” (Matthew 16:25-26).
It may seem for now that whatever is the Truth may be passed off by society as a lie, but we are assured by the Lord that those who bravely proclaim and defend the Truth will experience vindication one day. Even if the Truth seems obfuscated in our lifetime, one day, “everything that is now covered will be uncovered, and everything now hidden will be made clear.” In any argument, you don’t need to have the last word and make sure everyone knows that you were right. That’s exhausting and untenable. There will always be someone who disagrees with you. What is more important is striving to be right or righteous before God and we are assured that this will happen at the Final Judgment, where all lies will be exposed and all truths revealed, where the wicked would be punished and the innocent be vindicated. So, do not be afraid!
Our Lord reminds us in today’s gospel that the goal of a Christian witness is not just survival and personal safety but salvation. “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; fear him rather who can destroy both body and soul in hell.” Therefore, we should fear God more than our persecutors. Tell the Truth and risk the wrath of the mob. But tell a lie and risk the wrath of God. We should prefer the former to the latter.
At the end of the day, the real motivation for our decisions, our actions and our speech should not be the fear of public reaction but rather, the judgment from God. St Gregory the Great teaches “The further (the soul) is pushed out of human favour, the closer a neighbour he becomes to God.” Our Lord tells us that He will acknowledge us before His Heavenly Father, if we stand resolutely to acknowledge Him before His enemies. His enemies may harm our bodies, but God will save our souls. We may be “cancelled” by the angry mob, but we will be affirmed by our loving God. So, stand for what is true and good and morally right, and be saved from eternal damnation.
From the moment of our birth, we are plunged into a world which simultaneously expects us to stand out, yet fit in; encourages us to be an individual, but to behave according to the norm; desires us to be creative, but within the parameters of approval; demands that we bring about societal change, so long as we do not upset or offend those around us. This is at the heart of the modern paradox where we are taught to be unique and yet placed under so much pressure to conform. Society often commercialises "individuality." We are encouraged to express uniqueness through consumer choices (what we buy, wear, or post), while the underlying systems—education, career paths, and social etiquette—demand strict uniformity.
Unfortunately, even when it comes to religion, such prevailing currents subtly seduce us towards the lowest common denominator, never encouraging us to rise above or strive to achieve greater heights. When someone strives for perfection and holiness, he is immediately put down: “Don’t try to be so holy” or mocked and ridiculed with the label “holey moley.” This should not be so. The life of a Christian must always go against the flow. Instead of mediocrity, he is called by the Lord to perfection. Instead of just fitting in, he is called to stand out. That means risking putting your head on the chopping block.
I am reminded of G. K. Chesterton’s statement in The Everlasting Man: “A dead thing can go with the stream, but only a living thing can go against it.” Likewise, a true Christian goes against the current of our sinful age; a false one is swept away by its swiftness. Any weak Christian can live like the world; it takes a vital, healthy faith to enable someone to stand on their convictions, firm against the tide of opinion and every fashionable and popular trend that draws our fancy.
In the first reading, we have the prophet Jeremiah bewailing his pitiful situation where he is being persecuted and hemmed in from all sides by his detractors, some of whom had been his friends. He complains that the Lord had ‘seduced’ him so that he cannot stop prophesying disaster. His suffering, pain and anxiety are real - there is no doubt about this. He understands that if he stops proclaiming the truth, the persecution will stop, his friends will return, the situation will normalise. The logical solution, the urge to survive, is just to shut up and fit in. But then instead of giving up and giving in, Jeremiah proclaims his faith: “But the Lord is at my side, a mighty hero …Sing to the Lord, praise the Lord, for he has delivered the soul of the needy from the hands of evil men.”
Rather than allow his emotional and physical torment to move him to abandon his mission, Jeremiah doubles down on his resolve to remain faithful, to persist in trusting God, despite all the challenges that are thrown at him. His story is a lesson for us too. When our hearts align with God’s values, we will view the dangers around us differently. Death, discomfort, and dire circumstances don’t have the same sting when we have God’s eternal perspective. When God’s values and our values align, we will understand what is most important and live out the purpose we were created for. Life is ultimately about seeking God’s approval and not men’s.
Throughout the gospels and especially in today’s gospel passage, our Lord repeatedly tells us, “Do not be afraid.” Do not be afraid of speaking the Truth; do not be afraid of intimidation from those who wish to silence you: do not be afraid of opposition, persecution and even martyrdom at the hands of your enemies; do not be afraid because we are of great worth in the eyes of God. At the end of the day, do not be afraid of proclaiming the gospel.
There is no denying that it is tempting to stop preaching the gospel or to soften the message in order to make things easier and protect ourselves from suffering and opposition. That’s part of the survival mechanism. But that should not be the goal of our lives. Our purpose is not just survival, getting by, avoiding conflict, being liked. Our ultimate purpose in life is salvation and nothing should ever get in the way of this even though this may mean walking a lonely path. Jesus gives this important reminder in Chapter 16: “For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?” (Matthew 16:25-26).
It may seem for now that whatever is the Truth may be passed off by society as a lie, but we are assured by the Lord that those who bravely proclaim and defend the Truth will experience vindication one day. Even if the Truth seems obfuscated in our lifetime, one day, “everything that is now covered will be uncovered, and everything now hidden will be made clear.” In any argument, you don’t need to have the last word and make sure everyone knows that you were right. That’s exhausting and untenable. There will always be someone who disagrees with you. What is more important is striving to be right or righteous before God and we are assured that this will happen at the Final Judgment, where all lies will be exposed and all truths revealed, where the wicked would be punished and the innocent be vindicated. So, do not be afraid!
Our Lord reminds us in today’s gospel that the goal of a Christian witness is not just survival and personal safety but salvation. “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul; fear him rather who can destroy both body and soul in hell.” Therefore, we should fear God more than our persecutors. Tell the Truth and risk the wrath of the mob. But tell a lie and risk the wrath of God. We should prefer the former to the latter.
At the end of the day, the real motivation for our decisions, our actions and our speech should not be the fear of public reaction but rather, the judgment from God. St Gregory the Great teaches “The further (the soul) is pushed out of human favour, the closer a neighbour he becomes to God.” Our Lord tells us that He will acknowledge us before His Heavenly Father, if we stand resolutely to acknowledge Him before His enemies. His enemies may harm our bodies, but God will save our souls. We may be “cancelled” by the angry mob, but we will be affirmed by our loving God. So, stand for what is true and good and morally right, and be saved from eternal damnation.
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Monday, October 13, 2025
Spiritual Warfare
Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C
The recent assassination of a Christian apologist, political activist and commentator in the United States has exposed how a nation can be divided along deep irreconcilable ideological lines. In the aftermath of the assassination, calls by one side for unity, to tone down the rhetoric, to de-escalate the conflict may actually be insincere and quite hypocritical, for how can one side be asked to disarm while the other side continues to aim their guns at a target on your back. It would literally be suicide. There can be no real peace without authentic conversion on both sides and there can be no conversion if one does not accept the blame.
What has this to do with the readings for today which speak more about prayer then it does about conflict resolution? Most people do not see a connexion but prayer is the foundation of real peace as well as the most potent weapon in spiritual warfare, and believe me, we are at war. The conflict we are witnessing is merely a shadow of the spiritual war that is raging beneath the surface. That is why St Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, tells us, “Put on the full armour of God so as to be able to resist the devil's tactics. For it is not against human enemies that we have to struggle, but against the principalities and the ruling forces who are masters of the darkness in this world, the spirits of evil in the heavens.” (Eph 6:11-13).
The prevalence and unrelenting force of evil is an important reminder that we Christians should be constantly equipped and prepared for spiritual warfare. Yes, we are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. The former understands that peace can only be achieved by defeating evil and upholding the truth and what is good. Peacekeepers only wish to maintain a semblance of calm by all means necessary, even compromising with evil. Do not be so naive to think that we are in a time of peace, do not be so simplistic as to think that we can simply hold up a white flag and parlay with the enemy. There can be no negotiation or compromise with evil. There can be no unity with those who see no need to disavow evil, but in fact continue to promote it. Evil can only be fought and defeated. You can’t make evil your friend. That would be surrendering to evil, which means acquiescing to evil’s ultimate victory. Any harmony that arises from accommodating evil is not true harmony but subjugation to it. So, what must Christians do in the face of evil? We must fight and our most vital weapon is prayer.
In the first reading, we see how prayer sustained the fight between the Israelites and the Amalekites. In ancient times, conflict of nations was viewed as the conflict of their divinities, and the stronger divinities won. As much as war is a great evil, the Israelites were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their faith in God. As long as Moses held up the staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. But whenever he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer.
The gospel provides us with another lesson of prayer but our Lord frames it in the form of a parable. If the analogy in the first reading seems clearer in terms of spiritual warfare, the parable which our Lord tells seems to place the issue of prayer squarely with God. What if God doesn’t seem to be hearing our petitions or is slow in acting? It sometimes feels that the greater warfare is with Him rather than with evil itself. It does sometimes seem as if we are fighting God.
It is interesting that our Lord frames His lesson on prayer by using the example of an unjust judge, who seems to only dispense justice when he is pestered and pushed to a corner. It is certainly not a very charitable image of God. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?
Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. We are the accused, not God. We can now see why our Lord uses the image of a judge in His parable. Unlike this corrupt judicial officer, God is the Judge of both the living and the dead, and His judgment is always fair and just. Our Lord sets out the charge against us with this question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.
But prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.” And so he exhorts us: “Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.”
Most of us do not like conflict. In fact, many of us choose to avoid it, preferring harmony over open disagreements. “Choose your battles” is generally good advice. But even though we may not go out of the way to look for a fight, living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarised in a single word, “embattled.” The fight comes to us whether we like it or not, which means that we must be ready and be prepared for a fight. Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts. There is a spiritual battle at war within each one of us. Every person is at war against the evil one for their soul, no one is exempt in this battle of human life.
Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must — by God’s grace and our effort — persevere and win. And should our hands grow weary like Moses, though we do not have companions like Aaron and Hur to help us hold them upright, we know that God Himself will give us the Holy Spirit, the sacraments and necessary graces to persevere. For it has been promised that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
The recent assassination of a Christian apologist, political activist and commentator in the United States has exposed how a nation can be divided along deep irreconcilable ideological lines. In the aftermath of the assassination, calls by one side for unity, to tone down the rhetoric, to de-escalate the conflict may actually be insincere and quite hypocritical, for how can one side be asked to disarm while the other side continues to aim their guns at a target on your back. It would literally be suicide. There can be no real peace without authentic conversion on both sides and there can be no conversion if one does not accept the blame.
What has this to do with the readings for today which speak more about prayer then it does about conflict resolution? Most people do not see a connexion but prayer is the foundation of real peace as well as the most potent weapon in spiritual warfare, and believe me, we are at war. The conflict we are witnessing is merely a shadow of the spiritual war that is raging beneath the surface. That is why St Paul, in his letter to the Ephesians, tells us, “Put on the full armour of God so as to be able to resist the devil's tactics. For it is not against human enemies that we have to struggle, but against the principalities and the ruling forces who are masters of the darkness in this world, the spirits of evil in the heavens.” (Eph 6:11-13).
The prevalence and unrelenting force of evil is an important reminder that we Christians should be constantly equipped and prepared for spiritual warfare. Yes, we are called to be peacemakers, not peacekeepers. The former understands that peace can only be achieved by defeating evil and upholding the truth and what is good. Peacekeepers only wish to maintain a semblance of calm by all means necessary, even compromising with evil. Do not be so naive to think that we are in a time of peace, do not be so simplistic as to think that we can simply hold up a white flag and parlay with the enemy. There can be no negotiation or compromise with evil. There can be no unity with those who see no need to disavow evil, but in fact continue to promote it. Evil can only be fought and defeated. You can’t make evil your friend. That would be surrendering to evil, which means acquiescing to evil’s ultimate victory. Any harmony that arises from accommodating evil is not true harmony but subjugation to it. So, what must Christians do in the face of evil? We must fight and our most vital weapon is prayer.
In the first reading, we see how prayer sustained the fight between the Israelites and the Amalekites. In ancient times, conflict of nations was viewed as the conflict of their divinities, and the stronger divinities won. As much as war is a great evil, the Israelites were forced to take up arms to defend themselves and their faith in God. As long as Moses held up the staff in his hand, the Israelites had the advantage. But whenever he dropped his hand, the Amalekites gained the advantage. Note the gesture of Moses - raised hands, the Orans or prayer posture which the priest observed during Mass when he prays on behalf of his people. But those outstretched hands also remind us of our Lord Jesus Christ when He was pinned to the cross. His death would be the final victory God would use to defeat sin and Satan. He raises his hands in surrender to God’s Providence and not as an act of surrender to his enemies. Ultimately, the battle was won not through military strategy but through fidelity and prayer.
The gospel provides us with another lesson of prayer but our Lord frames it in the form of a parable. If the analogy in the first reading seems clearer in terms of spiritual warfare, the parable which our Lord tells seems to place the issue of prayer squarely with God. What if God doesn’t seem to be hearing our petitions or is slow in acting? It sometimes feels that the greater warfare is with Him rather than with evil itself. It does sometimes seem as if we are fighting God.
It is interesting that our Lord frames His lesson on prayer by using the example of an unjust judge, who seems to only dispense justice when he is pestered and pushed to a corner. It is certainly not a very charitable image of God. But it is not the intention of our Lord to compare the unjust judge to God as an equivalent. Rather, the example is meant to show the vast contrast between a self-serving figure and the All-Merciful, Ever-Compassionate and Just God. If such an unscrupulous man could dispense justice to his petitioners when pressed to do so, should we even doubt that we will have a quick answer from the God who always has our back?
Our Lord then turns the table on us. It is not God who is on trial but us. We are the accused, not God. We can now see why our Lord uses the image of a judge in His parable. Unlike this corrupt judicial officer, God is the Judge of both the living and the dead, and His judgment is always fair and just. Our Lord sets out the charge against us with this question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?” Prayer is no longer a test of God’s efficacy but rather of our fidelity. Our Lord promises us this: “I promise you, (God) will see justice done to them, and done speedily.” We should never doubt this. Our fidelity will be tested by our perseverance in prayer even when it is difficult to do so.
But prayer is not the only weapon we can avail of in spiritual warfare. We have the Word of God. St Paul in his second letter to Timothy which we heard in the second reading tells us that “all scripture is inspired by God and can profitably be used for teaching, for refuting error, for guiding people’s lives and teaching them to be holy.” And so he exhorts us: “Before God and before Christ Jesus who is to be judge of the living and the dead, I put this duty to you, in the name of his Appearing and of his kingdom: proclaim the message and, welcome or unwelcome, insist on it. Refute falsehood, correct error, call to obedience – but do all with patience and with the intention of teaching.”
Most of us do not like conflict. In fact, many of us choose to avoid it, preferring harmony over open disagreements. “Choose your battles” is generally good advice. But even though we may not go out of the way to look for a fight, living our Catholic faith in today’s world could be summarised in a single word, “embattled.” The fight comes to us whether we like it or not, which means that we must be ready and be prepared for a fight. Perhaps more importantly, we also tend to forget that the battle God calls every one of us to engage in is a spiritual one, fought on the open fields of our hearts. There is a spiritual battle at war within each one of us. Every person is at war against the evil one for their soul, no one is exempt in this battle of human life.
Because prayer is what transforms and guides us, it is the only battle worth fighting, and the only one we must — by God’s grace and our effort — persevere and win. And should our hands grow weary like Moses, though we do not have companions like Aaron and Hur to help us hold them upright, we know that God Himself will give us the Holy Spirit, the sacraments and necessary graces to persevere. For it has been promised that “those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary; they will walk and not be faint” (Isaiah 40:31).
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Monday, March 10, 2025
Hope will not disappoint
Second Sunday of Lent Year C
The word “hope” is thrown around a lot. “I hope I win the lottery!” “I hope that I do well in my exams!” “I hope that I get a raise.” “I hope Father’s homily will be short!” As you know from experience, most of the time you don’t get what you “hope” for. So, keep hoping!
For most people, optimism and hope are interchangeable, but are they really? The objects of both concepts are worlds apart. Optimism focuses on making this life and this world a better place. Nothing wrong with that, unfortunately the future and the outcomes of our actions are never truly within our control. We want things to be better. We want our problems to be resolved. We want crises to end. We want the best possible future for ourselves and our loved ones. But the best we can accomplish is to have strong aspirations. We can never guarantee their final outcome. The truth is that life is not a genie released from a bottle who can guarantee the fulfilment of all or any of our wishes.
On the other hand, Christian hope is different. It’s not wishing for good things with this life as our goal. The ultimate object of Hope like the other theological virtues of faith and charity, is God. As St Paul assures us in his letter to the Romans, “Hope will not disappoint” (Rom 5:5), precisely because God will not disappoint. Hope does not spring from a person’s mind; it is not snatched out of mid-air. It results from the promises of God. It is grounded in God, the God who does not break His promises, the God who remains faithful to His covenants, the God who surprises us with something greater than we can ever conceive or perceive, the God who will certainly and irrefutably never disappoint. This is what we see in the readings we have heard this week.
In the first reading, we have God promising to give Abram something which seemed humanly impossible to this old and childless man. God uses the stars to birth faith in Abram. Throughout Abram (who was later renamed Abraham) and his wife Sarah’s lives, God brought them into situations that stretched their faith and required the continued exercise of hope and trust in God. Abram had left everything he knew—his extended family, an assurance of wealth and stability in a well-established homeland —to follow a voice that called him by name into the unknown. Like a blindfolded trust-walk, Abram took step by step in the wilderness, moving forward in God’s plan for his life. When he started to question the journey, he simply needed to glance up to the stars to remember the One who showed him the expanse of the heavens and all the stars therein and then promised to make Abram’s descendants into a great nation as numerous as those incalculable stars. St Paul reflecting on this act of faith and hope wrote: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations” (Rom 4:18).
Abraham’s faith and hope did not require a denial of reality, nor would such a denial have been healthy. False optimism, on the other hand, does that. How many of us have been miserably disappointed because we have held on to some false optimism that eventually turned out to be a lie or a delusion? But here Abraham acknowledged his own personal and natural limitations (old age and barrenness) without weakening in faith. In some circles, the power of positive thinking and speech receives such an emphasis that people feel they cannot speak honestly about their circumstances. Positive thinking merely denies reality, it cannot reshape it nor create it. That isn’t walking in hope. Hope acknowledges the facts and then looks beyond them to the truth of what Scripture reveals about God, His power, and His ability to fulfill His word.
In the second reading, St Paul reminds us that our true homeland is heaven. Many have forgotten this. Too often today when people talk about “heaven” they mean a purely spiritual destination where spirits float around with God in the clouds. That’s a non-Christian hope. That “heaven” is not what we look forward to. In place of a heaven which means perfect communion with God, man has tried to replace it with surrogates, always looking for the elusive utopia, the earthly paradise of our own making. But any “earthly paradise” which excludes God from its definition, is a false paradise, and eventually would turn out to be a living hell. We need only look towards the “paradise” which both the Nazis and communist regimes attempted to create on earth. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ's promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1817).
Finally, we have the gospel passage which is St Luke’s account of the Transfiguration. This story appears in all the synoptic gospels and each version is always read on the Second Sunday of Lent. This event takes place as our Lord is proceeding to Jerusalem with His disciples to meet His fate - His atoning death on the cross which will lead to His saving resurrection. The Lord was transfigured so that “the scandal of the Cross might be removed from the hearts of his disciples” (Roman Missal, Preface for the Feast of the Transfiguration), to help them bear the dark moments of His Passion. The Cross and glory are closely united.
The transfiguration was meant to instil hope and strengthen their faith in the face of the Lord’s impending suffering and death. Even witnessing Jesus' tragic death, they were not to lose faith, knowing that suffering and death do not have the final say. That is why the message of the Lord’s transfiguration is so important. It offers us a glimpse into a different world - eternal life, the life of the resurrection, heaven itself. In the presence of suffering, we see our Lord’s glory, we see Moses and Elijah who were deemed dead or at least removed from our human existence, alive in God and we hope that one day we will be with them. This vision offers us hope as we journey through life, knowing that something beautiful awaits us after the trials of this world.
As the ups and downs of life continue, hope remains an important virtue for all of us. Hope can sustain us amidst the difficulties of life. There are times when the enormity of our pains and trials leads us to despair, questioning whether God sees our suffering and what His purpose is in it. But imagine someone showing you a glimpse of your future life beyond this world – a life in the presence of God, reunited with loved ones, free from suffering. Such a vision, however fleeting, can make a profound difference in how you view your earthly life and the manner in which you choose to live it. When our eyes are fixed on the light at the end of the long dark tunnel, even though that light may seem faint and tiny at times, the going gets easier and our strength to press on is renewed. As the Catechism says, hope keeps us from discouragement, sustains us when abandoned, and opens our hearts in expectation of heaven (CCC 1818).
The word “hope” is thrown around a lot. “I hope I win the lottery!” “I hope that I do well in my exams!” “I hope that I get a raise.” “I hope Father’s homily will be short!” As you know from experience, most of the time you don’t get what you “hope” for. So, keep hoping!
For most people, optimism and hope are interchangeable, but are they really? The objects of both concepts are worlds apart. Optimism focuses on making this life and this world a better place. Nothing wrong with that, unfortunately the future and the outcomes of our actions are never truly within our control. We want things to be better. We want our problems to be resolved. We want crises to end. We want the best possible future for ourselves and our loved ones. But the best we can accomplish is to have strong aspirations. We can never guarantee their final outcome. The truth is that life is not a genie released from a bottle who can guarantee the fulfilment of all or any of our wishes.
On the other hand, Christian hope is different. It’s not wishing for good things with this life as our goal. The ultimate object of Hope like the other theological virtues of faith and charity, is God. As St Paul assures us in his letter to the Romans, “Hope will not disappoint” (Rom 5:5), precisely because God will not disappoint. Hope does not spring from a person’s mind; it is not snatched out of mid-air. It results from the promises of God. It is grounded in God, the God who does not break His promises, the God who remains faithful to His covenants, the God who surprises us with something greater than we can ever conceive or perceive, the God who will certainly and irrefutably never disappoint. This is what we see in the readings we have heard this week.
In the first reading, we have God promising to give Abram something which seemed humanly impossible to this old and childless man. God uses the stars to birth faith in Abram. Throughout Abram (who was later renamed Abraham) and his wife Sarah’s lives, God brought them into situations that stretched their faith and required the continued exercise of hope and trust in God. Abram had left everything he knew—his extended family, an assurance of wealth and stability in a well-established homeland —to follow a voice that called him by name into the unknown. Like a blindfolded trust-walk, Abram took step by step in the wilderness, moving forward in God’s plan for his life. When he started to question the journey, he simply needed to glance up to the stars to remember the One who showed him the expanse of the heavens and all the stars therein and then promised to make Abram’s descendants into a great nation as numerous as those incalculable stars. St Paul reflecting on this act of faith and hope wrote: “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed and so became the father of many nations” (Rom 4:18).
Abraham’s faith and hope did not require a denial of reality, nor would such a denial have been healthy. False optimism, on the other hand, does that. How many of us have been miserably disappointed because we have held on to some false optimism that eventually turned out to be a lie or a delusion? But here Abraham acknowledged his own personal and natural limitations (old age and barrenness) without weakening in faith. In some circles, the power of positive thinking and speech receives such an emphasis that people feel they cannot speak honestly about their circumstances. Positive thinking merely denies reality, it cannot reshape it nor create it. That isn’t walking in hope. Hope acknowledges the facts and then looks beyond them to the truth of what Scripture reveals about God, His power, and His ability to fulfill His word.
In the second reading, St Paul reminds us that our true homeland is heaven. Many have forgotten this. Too often today when people talk about “heaven” they mean a purely spiritual destination where spirits float around with God in the clouds. That’s a non-Christian hope. That “heaven” is not what we look forward to. In place of a heaven which means perfect communion with God, man has tried to replace it with surrogates, always looking for the elusive utopia, the earthly paradise of our own making. But any “earthly paradise” which excludes God from its definition, is a false paradise, and eventually would turn out to be a living hell. We need only look towards the “paradise” which both the Nazis and communist regimes attempted to create on earth. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “Hope is the theological virtue by which we desire the kingdom of heaven and eternal life as our happiness, placing our trust in Christ's promises and relying not on our own strength, but on the help of the grace of the Holy Spirit” (CCC 1817).
Finally, we have the gospel passage which is St Luke’s account of the Transfiguration. This story appears in all the synoptic gospels and each version is always read on the Second Sunday of Lent. This event takes place as our Lord is proceeding to Jerusalem with His disciples to meet His fate - His atoning death on the cross which will lead to His saving resurrection. The Lord was transfigured so that “the scandal of the Cross might be removed from the hearts of his disciples” (Roman Missal, Preface for the Feast of the Transfiguration), to help them bear the dark moments of His Passion. The Cross and glory are closely united.
The transfiguration was meant to instil hope and strengthen their faith in the face of the Lord’s impending suffering and death. Even witnessing Jesus' tragic death, they were not to lose faith, knowing that suffering and death do not have the final say. That is why the message of the Lord’s transfiguration is so important. It offers us a glimpse into a different world - eternal life, the life of the resurrection, heaven itself. In the presence of suffering, we see our Lord’s glory, we see Moses and Elijah who were deemed dead or at least removed from our human existence, alive in God and we hope that one day we will be with them. This vision offers us hope as we journey through life, knowing that something beautiful awaits us after the trials of this world.
As the ups and downs of life continue, hope remains an important virtue for all of us. Hope can sustain us amidst the difficulties of life. There are times when the enormity of our pains and trials leads us to despair, questioning whether God sees our suffering and what His purpose is in it. But imagine someone showing you a glimpse of your future life beyond this world – a life in the presence of God, reunited with loved ones, free from suffering. Such a vision, however fleeting, can make a profound difference in how you view your earthly life and the manner in which you choose to live it. When our eyes are fixed on the light at the end of the long dark tunnel, even though that light may seem faint and tiny at times, the going gets easier and our strength to press on is renewed. As the Catechism says, hope keeps us from discouragement, sustains us when abandoned, and opens our hearts in expectation of heaven (CCC 1818).
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Monday, July 1, 2024
Fidelity not popularity
Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B
There is much talk these days about the spirit of Synodality, that the Synodal way is the way the Church must progress and move forward. One could simply describe it as the culture and attitude of different members of the Body of Christ walking together and attentively and effectively listening to each other. Most people would agree that it is a good thing to have more listening, to have ears closer to the ground, to the real issues and struggles of the people, to be able to empathise with the challenges and problems people are facing.
But there is also much disagreement as to what Synodality in practice entails. There is much misunderstanding as to what is the end game. Someone cynically gave this mischievous definition: “journeying together without a destination.” The concept begs the following questions: Is it a Parliament where people get to vote on critical issues including norms of morality and doctrine? Would sensus fidelium be reduced to public opinion where the position of the majority will rule the day? Is it all about brainstorming ideas and sentiments and then try to merge and synthesise these positions, even opposing ones, into a single all-inclusive corporate mission statement?
The answer to every one of these questions must be a clear and definite “no”! Synodality can never mean a popularity contest, neither can it entail blurring the lines between good and evil, truth and falsehood. The Church does not and cannot march along with the drumbeat of the world. We simply cannot subvert the Church and her scripture and tradition-based teachings, in order to please the world.
Certainly, we cannot ignore the world, and that’s why it’s a mistake to entrench ourselves in the past and enter into a time sealed cocoon, insulated from what is happening around us. However, we must never forget that we are in the world, but we are not of the world. This is what the readings today wish to emphasise. To be prophetic is not just being a contrarian, objecting to every mainstream opinion or dissenting with the establishment. To be truly prophetic means learning to live in the world while not being of the world. It is a call to be faithful to God’s Word while learning to communicate that Word to a world that lacks a vocabulary to understand. It is having our feet firmly planted on the ground but with our eyes constantly gazing heavenward. It is an amphibious existence.
In the first reading, we have the call of the prophet Ezekiel. This serves as a prelude to the gospel where our Lord Jesus likens the people’s reception of Him as how their ancestors treated the prophet. From the very beginning, God is laying out the difficult task and mission of the prophet. A prophet is not simply someone who foretells the future. The task of a prophet is to tell people how God sees things, for the prophet sees things as God sees them. This directness of vision is not always popular, for we don’t always like being told home truths about ourselves. The truth about ourselves is often unwelcomed, particularly when it involves criticism and demands change. But the ministry of the prophet is not dependent on the people’s reception or lack of it but rather on the call to be faithful to the mission which has been entrusted to him by God. As God tells Ezekiel: “Whether they listen or not, this set of rebels shall know there is a prophet among them.”
Our Lord in the gospel also reminds us that we should not expect a warm welcome from those who seem closest to us, especially when we choose to stand by the side of truth rather than along party or sectarian lines. As He so rightly pointed out: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.”
As much as we often measure the success of our efforts by the extent of their approval, this should never be our yardstick. When it comes to our Christian witnessing, fidelity and not popularity should be the benchmark. In fact, the more faithful we are to the cause of Christ and His message, the more opposition, ridicule and even persecution would we receive at the hands of our audience. This seems counterintuitive. We would be so much more motivated when we receive positive appraisal from others. But here’s the secret which St Paul shares with us in the second reading - God assures us: “My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.” It is for this reason that we can make our weaknesses our special boast and be content with all kinds of hardship because as St Paul rightly puts it: “For it is when I am weak that I am strong.”
Yes, we are called to a Synodal way in which we recognise that we are fellow companions on a journey. But it is a Synodal way that has a direction rather than listless wandering and an ever-changing goal post depending on the latest fads and mainstream opinions. Our direction is that whatever we do or say, our goal is to get to heaven and not settle for some transient earthly utopia that promises big things but delivers little.
We must be committed to a Synodal way that is not dictated by the complaints and erroneous ideas or sinful preferences of the unfaithful, but rather, a call to listen to and follow the Only One who matters, our Lord Jesus, no matter how unpopular His teachings may be. Synodality is a call to deeper fidelity and not a substitute for it. We must do what is pleasing to the Lord rather than seek external validation from our peers and contemporaries.
Yes, being Synodal means change, but not in the way of changing the gospel or the teachings of the Church to suit our every whim and fancy but rather to humbly acknowledge our sinfulness and undergo repentance and conversion that will lead us to a deeper and more challenging commitment to follow Christ. We must remember that our goal is not to sneak into heaven by the skin of our teeth, but to be transformed in Christ, even on earth. Yes, we must be transformed in Christ – and not into another rival of Christ. This is the ideal.
Finally, it is good to be guided by the wise words of St Ignatius of Antioch: “Our task is not one of producing persuasive propaganda; Christianity shows its greatness when it is hated by the world.”
There is much talk these days about the spirit of Synodality, that the Synodal way is the way the Church must progress and move forward. One could simply describe it as the culture and attitude of different members of the Body of Christ walking together and attentively and effectively listening to each other. Most people would agree that it is a good thing to have more listening, to have ears closer to the ground, to the real issues and struggles of the people, to be able to empathise with the challenges and problems people are facing.
But there is also much disagreement as to what Synodality in practice entails. There is much misunderstanding as to what is the end game. Someone cynically gave this mischievous definition: “journeying together without a destination.” The concept begs the following questions: Is it a Parliament where people get to vote on critical issues including norms of morality and doctrine? Would sensus fidelium be reduced to public opinion where the position of the majority will rule the day? Is it all about brainstorming ideas and sentiments and then try to merge and synthesise these positions, even opposing ones, into a single all-inclusive corporate mission statement?
The answer to every one of these questions must be a clear and definite “no”! Synodality can never mean a popularity contest, neither can it entail blurring the lines between good and evil, truth and falsehood. The Church does not and cannot march along with the drumbeat of the world. We simply cannot subvert the Church and her scripture and tradition-based teachings, in order to please the world.
Certainly, we cannot ignore the world, and that’s why it’s a mistake to entrench ourselves in the past and enter into a time sealed cocoon, insulated from what is happening around us. However, we must never forget that we are in the world, but we are not of the world. This is what the readings today wish to emphasise. To be prophetic is not just being a contrarian, objecting to every mainstream opinion or dissenting with the establishment. To be truly prophetic means learning to live in the world while not being of the world. It is a call to be faithful to God’s Word while learning to communicate that Word to a world that lacks a vocabulary to understand. It is having our feet firmly planted on the ground but with our eyes constantly gazing heavenward. It is an amphibious existence.
In the first reading, we have the call of the prophet Ezekiel. This serves as a prelude to the gospel where our Lord Jesus likens the people’s reception of Him as how their ancestors treated the prophet. From the very beginning, God is laying out the difficult task and mission of the prophet. A prophet is not simply someone who foretells the future. The task of a prophet is to tell people how God sees things, for the prophet sees things as God sees them. This directness of vision is not always popular, for we don’t always like being told home truths about ourselves. The truth about ourselves is often unwelcomed, particularly when it involves criticism and demands change. But the ministry of the prophet is not dependent on the people’s reception or lack of it but rather on the call to be faithful to the mission which has been entrusted to him by God. As God tells Ezekiel: “Whether they listen or not, this set of rebels shall know there is a prophet among them.”
Our Lord in the gospel also reminds us that we should not expect a warm welcome from those who seem closest to us, especially when we choose to stand by the side of truth rather than along party or sectarian lines. As He so rightly pointed out: “A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.”
As much as we often measure the success of our efforts by the extent of their approval, this should never be our yardstick. When it comes to our Christian witnessing, fidelity and not popularity should be the benchmark. In fact, the more faithful we are to the cause of Christ and His message, the more opposition, ridicule and even persecution would we receive at the hands of our audience. This seems counterintuitive. We would be so much more motivated when we receive positive appraisal from others. But here’s the secret which St Paul shares with us in the second reading - God assures us: “My grace is enough for you: my power is at its best in weakness.” It is for this reason that we can make our weaknesses our special boast and be content with all kinds of hardship because as St Paul rightly puts it: “For it is when I am weak that I am strong.”
Yes, we are called to a Synodal way in which we recognise that we are fellow companions on a journey. But it is a Synodal way that has a direction rather than listless wandering and an ever-changing goal post depending on the latest fads and mainstream opinions. Our direction is that whatever we do or say, our goal is to get to heaven and not settle for some transient earthly utopia that promises big things but delivers little.
We must be committed to a Synodal way that is not dictated by the complaints and erroneous ideas or sinful preferences of the unfaithful, but rather, a call to listen to and follow the Only One who matters, our Lord Jesus, no matter how unpopular His teachings may be. Synodality is a call to deeper fidelity and not a substitute for it. We must do what is pleasing to the Lord rather than seek external validation from our peers and contemporaries.
Yes, being Synodal means change, but not in the way of changing the gospel or the teachings of the Church to suit our every whim and fancy but rather to humbly acknowledge our sinfulness and undergo repentance and conversion that will lead us to a deeper and more challenging commitment to follow Christ. We must remember that our goal is not to sneak into heaven by the skin of our teeth, but to be transformed in Christ, even on earth. Yes, we must be transformed in Christ – and not into another rival of Christ. This is the ideal.
Finally, it is good to be guided by the wise words of St Ignatius of Antioch: “Our task is not one of producing persuasive propaganda; Christianity shows its greatness when it is hated by the world.”
Monday, April 1, 2024
Mercy and Peace
Second Sunday of Easter Year B
Divine Mercy Sunday
NATO has become a household acronym that almost everyone in Malaysia knows and understands. I’m not talking about the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation but the stinging indictment against so many, especially targeted at leaders: “no action, talk only.” It’s the Malaysian equivalent of the English expression “Be all talk (but no action).” The acronym NATO, however, sounds much catchier than BAT. When it comes to mercy, our theme for today, words alone do not make one a Christian. If we wish to talk about mercy, it cannot just remain at the level of words and good wishes. It must be translated into action. We must back our words with action.
We can be certain that there is One who has not and will never fall under this description of NATO! According to St. Paul, this is the One who, "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave … obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Phil 2:8). Our Lord Jesus Christ did not merely speak about love and humility. He did not merely show us mercy as He pitied us and sympathised with our plight. He was not all talk but no action. No! Our Lord, the Divine Mercy, speaks works of mercy to us. But He does not only speak. He acts. This Word became flesh - He became man. He did not merely do His Father's will. He perfected it. His WORD took ACTION - He let us nail Him to a Cross, so that He might take upon Himself the guilt of our own sins. He has the scars to show for it, even after His resurrection.
As His blood dripped down the sides of the tree from which He hung, He thought of us in our sinfulness. And from His side, flowed water and blood as the visible sign of His mercy, a mercy that would take concrete shape and form in the sacraments of the Church, especially in the form of Baptism and the Eucharist. In the Upper Room, behind the closed doors of fear and regret, He did not speak words of condemnation to His disciples who had betrayed Him, denied Him and abandoned Him, but instead, words of forgiveness “Peace be with you!” Our Lord, the Divine Mercy walked the talk and lived His words of mercy.
Divine Mercy Sunday
NATO has become a household acronym that almost everyone in Malaysia knows and understands. I’m not talking about the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation but the stinging indictment against so many, especially targeted at leaders: “no action, talk only.” It’s the Malaysian equivalent of the English expression “Be all talk (but no action).” The acronym NATO, however, sounds much catchier than BAT. When it comes to mercy, our theme for today, words alone do not make one a Christian. If we wish to talk about mercy, it cannot just remain at the level of words and good wishes. It must be translated into action. We must back our words with action.
We can be certain that there is One who has not and will never fall under this description of NATO! According to St. Paul, this is the One who, "emptied himself, taking the form of a slave … obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross" (Phil 2:8). Our Lord Jesus Christ did not merely speak about love and humility. He did not merely show us mercy as He pitied us and sympathised with our plight. He was not all talk but no action. No! Our Lord, the Divine Mercy, speaks works of mercy to us. But He does not only speak. He acts. This Word became flesh - He became man. He did not merely do His Father's will. He perfected it. His WORD took ACTION - He let us nail Him to a Cross, so that He might take upon Himself the guilt of our own sins. He has the scars to show for it, even after His resurrection.
As His blood dripped down the sides of the tree from which He hung, He thought of us in our sinfulness. And from His side, flowed water and blood as the visible sign of His mercy, a mercy that would take concrete shape and form in the sacraments of the Church, especially in the form of Baptism and the Eucharist. In the Upper Room, behind the closed doors of fear and regret, He did not speak words of condemnation to His disciples who had betrayed Him, denied Him and abandoned Him, but instead, words of forgiveness “Peace be with you!” Our Lord, the Divine Mercy walked the talk and lived His words of mercy.
Divine mercy is the reason why humans can face up to their sin and accept full responsibility. Precisely because God is merciful, we can entrust ourselves wholly to Him, faults and all. We can accept whatever discipline He deems just and we can own our mistakes with the hope of redemption. Today, however, divine mercy often occasions a kind of quest to discover all the excuses humans have for not living the moral standard and to elaborate human inculpability. Divine mercy now seems to be about how humans can’t be blamed.
Today, we do live in an age where mercy is demanded but little appreciated. It is a false sort of mercy that demands nothing from the one who feels entitled to it. In other words, today many perceive mercy as a blanket approval for all manner of action, behaviour and lifestyle. Mercy is treated like a whitewash, covering up all sin and not actually changing the situation of our lives. An understanding of mercy, which allows a person to become at peace with sin, is far from the mercy shown by Jesus, because His true concern is for our true happiness.
How is His mercy connected to the peace which He offers in today’s gospel? True mercy releases us from sin and allows us to live in friendship with God. That is how mercy leads us to be at peace with God. Such peace can only be experienced when we surrender to God’s justice, turn to Him in repentance and be reconciled with Him in spirit and in truth. This is the reason why the words of the Risen Lord as we have heard in today’s gospel connect both peace and forgiveness. There can be no authentic peace if we have not been truly forgiven of our sins.
Mercy does not make sin acceptable. No, mercy seeks to free us from sin through forgiveness. It opens up a space for us to become a better version of ourselves. A false consolation that allows someone to continue in his sin whilst ignoring the guilt of his actions is not mercy at all if the person is not freed from the sinful situation. St Pope John Paul II once wrote “According to Catholic doctrine, no mercy, neither divine nor human, entails consent to the evil or tolerance of the evil. Mercy is always connected with the moment that leads from evil to good. Where there is mercy, evil surrenders. When the evil persists, there is no mercy.” Unfortunately, many today reject God’s forgiveness because they live in denial and refuse to accept the blame or acknowledge their own faults.
Divine Mercy is God’s offer to us to come close to Him. It is a real offer which invites us to a conversion of life, a definite break with sin, and a peace, of knowing and living in communion with God. This relationship is not mere lip service but a reality. God is never NATO! What God has promised, He does. When one meets the Lord’s mercy, our lives change. Our acceptance of mercy involves us trusting our lives to Jesus and our willingness to obey Him. When we pray for true mercy, we ask the Lord to forgive us our sins and weaknesses and to give us the grace to live in communion with Him in sincerity and truth.
Jesus! We trust in You!
How is His mercy connected to the peace which He offers in today’s gospel? True mercy releases us from sin and allows us to live in friendship with God. That is how mercy leads us to be at peace with God. Such peace can only be experienced when we surrender to God’s justice, turn to Him in repentance and be reconciled with Him in spirit and in truth. This is the reason why the words of the Risen Lord as we have heard in today’s gospel connect both peace and forgiveness. There can be no authentic peace if we have not been truly forgiven of our sins.
Mercy does not make sin acceptable. No, mercy seeks to free us from sin through forgiveness. It opens up a space for us to become a better version of ourselves. A false consolation that allows someone to continue in his sin whilst ignoring the guilt of his actions is not mercy at all if the person is not freed from the sinful situation. St Pope John Paul II once wrote “According to Catholic doctrine, no mercy, neither divine nor human, entails consent to the evil or tolerance of the evil. Mercy is always connected with the moment that leads from evil to good. Where there is mercy, evil surrenders. When the evil persists, there is no mercy.” Unfortunately, many today reject God’s forgiveness because they live in denial and refuse to accept the blame or acknowledge their own faults.
Divine Mercy is God’s offer to us to come close to Him. It is a real offer which invites us to a conversion of life, a definite break with sin, and a peace, of knowing and living in communion with God. This relationship is not mere lip service but a reality. God is never NATO! What God has promised, He does. When one meets the Lord’s mercy, our lives change. Our acceptance of mercy involves us trusting our lives to Jesus and our willingness to obey Him. When we pray for true mercy, we ask the Lord to forgive us our sins and weaknesses and to give us the grace to live in communion with Him in sincerity and truth.
Jesus! We trust in You!
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Tuesday, October 24, 2023
Love and do what you will
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A
The slogan, “Love and do what you will” seems more suited on the lips of a libertine than on a saint. We can understand why a libertine would promote this since he is devoid of moral principles except perhaps the most basic moral principle of not doing harm to anyone. In fact, Nike could have even reframed and rebranded the slogan in the form of its famous tagline: “Just Do It.”
Most of you may be surprised and shocked to know that these words were indeed spoken by a saint, and not just any ordinary saint. It is none other than the great Doctor of the West, St Augustine, who wrote extensively on original sin and the necessity of grace for one’s justification. Why would such a great theologian, regarded as only second to St Paul, make such an irresponsible statement that could serve as a license for future generations to “just do it”, seemingly regardless of moral bearings and eternal consequences?
Well, these words would have been irresponsible if St Augustine is saying that as long as you love God, you can go ahead and do pretty much anything you want to, even something sinful, and it’s perfectly okay. Sounds very much like the tagline for advocates of same-sex marriage and other sexual aberrations – “love is love.” But thank God, this is not what Augustine meant. Because of our sinful and fallen nature and without the aid of grace, we can’t “just do it.” That is why the Incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus are essential, if anyone is to have eternal life. Only if we love completely as our Lord has commanded us to do in today’s gospel, then whatever it pleases you to do will be the correct thing to do.
In explaining his point, St Augustine gives several illustrations to highlight two issues which may lead many to confuse genuine love with a self-serving attitude. Firstly, people tend to be easily misled by appearances. Coddling a child may give the impression that you are loving but it could just be a selfish way of winning the child’s confidence and approval. On the other hand, punishing or admonishing a child may seem harsh and unloving but this could actually be an act of loving discipline, hoping that the child will amend his ways. How would we know which is which? St Augustine tells us to look at the motivation. Our actions need to be motivated by love. St Augustine tells us that we can love and do what we will because true love desires only the good of the beloved. Love goes so much farther than simply not hurting anyone. This is often the excuse used to justify sexual sins. “What’s wrong with masturbation or pornography? I’m not hurting anyone?” No, love seeks good. The good of the other and our good too. And all sin continue to hurt God and ourselves, if not others.
St Augustine’s maxim helps us to see how the two parts of the Great Commandment of Love are inseparable. The moment we attempt to separate them and to favour one over the other, the whole thing falls apart.
Loving God is the foundation of the very possibility of loving anyone else for the simple reason that, only in the relationship with God can we feel fundamentally loved. Only in the relationship with God can we feel truly forgiven despite our fragility and offer forgiveness to others. We can only generate love if we feel truly acknowledged in this relationship that is rooted in the deepest depths of our hearts. Many people are unable to love because they are not willing to undergo the deep experience of recognising that they are sinners and yet loved undeservedly. If someone feels unloved because he feels that he is undeserving of love, he will likewise be unable to love others whom he thinks is undeserving of his love.
If you love God first and love Him truly and completely, then you will only desire that which is pleasing to Him, you will desire to follow His commandments. To profess that you love God while going against His Will and His Laws will immediately expose you as a liar and a hypocrite. One can never claim to love God while one persists in sinning. St Augustine doesn’t give us a license to do as we want, but a reason to do what God wants - that reason is love.
Our Lord has freed us from the bonds of sin and death. But that freedom is not a license to do as we please. Being free to choose sin is not true freedom. In fact, we can freely choose to enslave ourselves once more to sin. St Paul therefore warns us, “Do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, serve one another through love” (Gal 5:13).
It follows that the commandment to love our neighbour must first recognise that human life will not work out if God is left out: its aspirations are nothing but contradiction. Nothing can be considered good if there is no ultimate basis for all good. Nothing can be considered true if there is no Absolute Truth which is ageless and always true, and not just true for a certain time and for a certain people. How could we possibly grow in love if there is no ultimate benchmark for love?
Loving our neighbour, especially the poor, the weak, and the marginalised can never just be a dictate of justice. Loving others without rooting it in the love of God eventually ends in a pale surrogate of love, a distortion of true love. This is why the love that our Lord speaks of is not a mere human love. Only if we are anchored in the primary relationship with God can we begin to love others in a wholesome and unselfish way. Without such connexion, our weak attempts at loving end up following the idols of egoism, of power, of dominion, polluting our relations with others, and following paths not of life, but of death.
If we lose sight of God, then all that remains as a guiding thread is nothing but our ego. We will try to grab as much as possible out of this life for ourselves. We will say that we are motivated by altruistic values or even love, but the truth is that we are in it for ourselves. We will see all the others as enemies of our happiness who threaten to take something away from us. Envy and greed will take over our lives and poison our world.
For this reason, it is critically important to remember that only if this fundamental relationship with God is right, then can all other relationships be right. Our whole lives should be driven by this motivation to practice thinking with God, feeling with God, willing with God, so that love may grow and become the keynote of our life. Only then can love of neighbour be self-evident. Only if we love as how God loves, can we “do what you will!”
The slogan, “Love and do what you will” seems more suited on the lips of a libertine than on a saint. We can understand why a libertine would promote this since he is devoid of moral principles except perhaps the most basic moral principle of not doing harm to anyone. In fact, Nike could have even reframed and rebranded the slogan in the form of its famous tagline: “Just Do It.”
Most of you may be surprised and shocked to know that these words were indeed spoken by a saint, and not just any ordinary saint. It is none other than the great Doctor of the West, St Augustine, who wrote extensively on original sin and the necessity of grace for one’s justification. Why would such a great theologian, regarded as only second to St Paul, make such an irresponsible statement that could serve as a license for future generations to “just do it”, seemingly regardless of moral bearings and eternal consequences?
Well, these words would have been irresponsible if St Augustine is saying that as long as you love God, you can go ahead and do pretty much anything you want to, even something sinful, and it’s perfectly okay. Sounds very much like the tagline for advocates of same-sex marriage and other sexual aberrations – “love is love.” But thank God, this is not what Augustine meant. Because of our sinful and fallen nature and without the aid of grace, we can’t “just do it.” That is why the Incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus are essential, if anyone is to have eternal life. Only if we love completely as our Lord has commanded us to do in today’s gospel, then whatever it pleases you to do will be the correct thing to do.
In explaining his point, St Augustine gives several illustrations to highlight two issues which may lead many to confuse genuine love with a self-serving attitude. Firstly, people tend to be easily misled by appearances. Coddling a child may give the impression that you are loving but it could just be a selfish way of winning the child’s confidence and approval. On the other hand, punishing or admonishing a child may seem harsh and unloving but this could actually be an act of loving discipline, hoping that the child will amend his ways. How would we know which is which? St Augustine tells us to look at the motivation. Our actions need to be motivated by love. St Augustine tells us that we can love and do what we will because true love desires only the good of the beloved. Love goes so much farther than simply not hurting anyone. This is often the excuse used to justify sexual sins. “What’s wrong with masturbation or pornography? I’m not hurting anyone?” No, love seeks good. The good of the other and our good too. And all sin continue to hurt God and ourselves, if not others.
St Augustine’s maxim helps us to see how the two parts of the Great Commandment of Love are inseparable. The moment we attempt to separate them and to favour one over the other, the whole thing falls apart.
Loving God is the foundation of the very possibility of loving anyone else for the simple reason that, only in the relationship with God can we feel fundamentally loved. Only in the relationship with God can we feel truly forgiven despite our fragility and offer forgiveness to others. We can only generate love if we feel truly acknowledged in this relationship that is rooted in the deepest depths of our hearts. Many people are unable to love because they are not willing to undergo the deep experience of recognising that they are sinners and yet loved undeservedly. If someone feels unloved because he feels that he is undeserving of love, he will likewise be unable to love others whom he thinks is undeserving of his love.
If you love God first and love Him truly and completely, then you will only desire that which is pleasing to Him, you will desire to follow His commandments. To profess that you love God while going against His Will and His Laws will immediately expose you as a liar and a hypocrite. One can never claim to love God while one persists in sinning. St Augustine doesn’t give us a license to do as we want, but a reason to do what God wants - that reason is love.
Our Lord has freed us from the bonds of sin and death. But that freedom is not a license to do as we please. Being free to choose sin is not true freedom. In fact, we can freely choose to enslave ourselves once more to sin. St Paul therefore warns us, “Do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, serve one another through love” (Gal 5:13).
It follows that the commandment to love our neighbour must first recognise that human life will not work out if God is left out: its aspirations are nothing but contradiction. Nothing can be considered good if there is no ultimate basis for all good. Nothing can be considered true if there is no Absolute Truth which is ageless and always true, and not just true for a certain time and for a certain people. How could we possibly grow in love if there is no ultimate benchmark for love?
Loving our neighbour, especially the poor, the weak, and the marginalised can never just be a dictate of justice. Loving others without rooting it in the love of God eventually ends in a pale surrogate of love, a distortion of true love. This is why the love that our Lord speaks of is not a mere human love. Only if we are anchored in the primary relationship with God can we begin to love others in a wholesome and unselfish way. Without such connexion, our weak attempts at loving end up following the idols of egoism, of power, of dominion, polluting our relations with others, and following paths not of life, but of death.
If we lose sight of God, then all that remains as a guiding thread is nothing but our ego. We will try to grab as much as possible out of this life for ourselves. We will say that we are motivated by altruistic values or even love, but the truth is that we are in it for ourselves. We will see all the others as enemies of our happiness who threaten to take something away from us. Envy and greed will take over our lives and poison our world.
For this reason, it is critically important to remember that only if this fundamental relationship with God is right, then can all other relationships be right. Our whole lives should be driven by this motivation to practice thinking with God, feeling with God, willing with God, so that love may grow and become the keynote of our life. Only then can love of neighbour be self-evident. Only if we love as how God loves, can we “do what you will!”
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Thursday, November 17, 2022
Christ is to be at the centre
Solemnity of Christ the King Year C
This year we witnessed the death of Queen Elizabeth II, whom many hailed as the last truly Christian monarch of the world, as many other nominally Christian monarchs had long abdicated their responsibilities as defenders of the Christian faith over the decades. In the midst of all the pomp and pageantry of the State funeral that stretched over a period of 10 days, there were two main reactions to the proceedings. Some could say that the comments, especially those coming from critics, were painstakingly predictable, as if being read off a script.
For the left leaning socialists and communists, this was another obscene and vulgar display of royal excesses and ostentation - a symbol of a dying empire and egregious colonial past, an unnecessary glorification of a non elected leader, which proved to be mortal like the rest of the hoi poloi, an imposition of Western culture (in the form of Christianity) over a more pluralistic world. But for many Christians (Catholics included), the rituals and ceremonies of the funeral of a Protestant monarch filled with medieval symbolism placed one thing in the forefront. God. As the symbols of authority and sovereignty were stripped away from the bier of the queen and as the cameras focused on these objects, we were reminded of this perennial truth - “all things passes, only God remains”.
Today’s feast is meant to have the same effect on us. It places Christ in the forefront. Today, we are asked not to place our attention nor focus on this past year’s accomplishments or even failures, and neither should we admire our trophies or scars, but our eyes should be fixed on the solitary but regal figure hanging on the cross. Condemned as a criminal for a crime He did not commit, a sentence which He could have avoided but didn’t, the King of the Universe performs His last act of kingship - He pardons a criminal and grants this man the reward and honour of paradise.
And it is interesting that when the first World Youth Day was instituted by Pope St John Paul II, he too had this intention in mind. Christ is to be at its centre, to be in the forefront. For many who have witnessed the almost Woodstock-like atmosphere of WYD celebrations, this attention seems odd. But to the young people, with “their questions, their openness, and their hopes,” the Church, the saintly pope said, must communicate “the certainty who is Christ, the Truth who is Christ, the love who is Christ.” This is the reason why Pope Francis announced last year that he was moving the celebration of World Youth Day to this feast of Christ the King: “The centre of the celebration remains the Mystery of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of Man, as Saint John Paul II, the initiator and patron of WYD, always emphasised.”
Let’s go back to the origins of today’s feast to understand its focus. By liturgical standards, today’s feast is relatively recent. It was only inaugurated at the end of 1925, the Jubilee Year which commemorated the anniversary of the First Ecumenical Council in Nicaea in 325 AD. The first ecumenical council defended the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy which sought to dilute it. Now, on its anniversary, there were new issues which sought to dilute the centrality of Christ and His divinity.
At the turn of the twentieth century, the forces of secularism and humanism were advancing while that of the Church retreating. World War 1, described as the Great War or the War to end all wars, had left a devastating trail in Europe and beyond its shores. Pessimism, a sense of helplessness compounded by hatred among the nations, was overwhelming. The time was ripe for the rise of tyrants, and rise they did. Many considered the basics of morality and the teachings of the Church to be out of date, no longer relevant to modern society. Modern thinking allowed that, at most, Christ might be king in the private life of the individual, but certainly not in the public world. Some political regimes advocated the banishment of Jesus altogether, not only from society, but from the family as well.
In all these developments, Pope Pius XI saw that people were denying Christ in favour of a lifestyle dominated by secularism, material advantage and false hope created by the tyrants. Throughout the Jubilee Year of 1925, Pope Pius constantly emphasised the kingship of Christ as declared in the Creed: “His kingdom will have no end.” And so, on Dec. 11 of the jubilee year, as the Jubilee Year drew to a close, and in order to acknowledge perpetually the supremacy of Jesus Christ over all men, nations and earthly allegiances, the pope issued the encyclical Quas Primas, which added the feast of “Our Lord Jesus Christ the King” to the annual Church liturgical calendar.
A century later, this feast continues to speak loudly to our generation. We continue to be plagued by political leaders who wish to arrogate the power of God to themselves, to rewrite the moral rules of what is right or wrong, to take human life as if they were its creator, to dictate rules that would violate the conscience of every man and woman. The Solemnity of Christ the King holds out against these forces and seeks to remind mankind of what true power entails and where true power is to be found.
Pope Emeritus Benedict explains that the power of Christ, who has the cross as His throne and a circle of thorns as His crown, is to be seen in the light of what He has done for us through His sacrifice. The King shows us the true face of power through the powerlessness of the cross. Pope Benedict writes, this power “is not the power of the kings or the great people of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to liberate from evil, to defeat the dominion of death. It is the power of Love that can draw good from evil, that can melt a hardened heart, bring peace amid the harshest conflict and kindle hope in the thickest darkness. This Kingdom of Grace is never imposed and always respects our freedom.”
My dear young people, as the Universal Church celebrates the faith that has been passed on down to you. Know this that as the world lures you with so many attractions which seek to gain your allegiance, there is only One whom you should rightly call Lord and Master. Only One whom you will not surrender your freedom but in which you can gain true freedom. Only One that shows that true power lies in the power of love - in giving, you receive; in dying to yourself you will gain eternal life; in losing all you will gain the greatest treasure of all. Only One who does not only speak Truth but is the truth while others can only offer opinions and lies. Only He alone must be at the front and centre of every decision of yours. Turn to Him and repeat the words of the good thief on the cross: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And we can be sure that His promise will one day be yours too: “today you will be with me in paradise.”
This year we witnessed the death of Queen Elizabeth II, whom many hailed as the last truly Christian monarch of the world, as many other nominally Christian monarchs had long abdicated their responsibilities as defenders of the Christian faith over the decades. In the midst of all the pomp and pageantry of the State funeral that stretched over a period of 10 days, there were two main reactions to the proceedings. Some could say that the comments, especially those coming from critics, were painstakingly predictable, as if being read off a script.
For the left leaning socialists and communists, this was another obscene and vulgar display of royal excesses and ostentation - a symbol of a dying empire and egregious colonial past, an unnecessary glorification of a non elected leader, which proved to be mortal like the rest of the hoi poloi, an imposition of Western culture (in the form of Christianity) over a more pluralistic world. But for many Christians (Catholics included), the rituals and ceremonies of the funeral of a Protestant monarch filled with medieval symbolism placed one thing in the forefront. God. As the symbols of authority and sovereignty were stripped away from the bier of the queen and as the cameras focused on these objects, we were reminded of this perennial truth - “all things passes, only God remains”.
Today’s feast is meant to have the same effect on us. It places Christ in the forefront. Today, we are asked not to place our attention nor focus on this past year’s accomplishments or even failures, and neither should we admire our trophies or scars, but our eyes should be fixed on the solitary but regal figure hanging on the cross. Condemned as a criminal for a crime He did not commit, a sentence which He could have avoided but didn’t, the King of the Universe performs His last act of kingship - He pardons a criminal and grants this man the reward and honour of paradise.
And it is interesting that when the first World Youth Day was instituted by Pope St John Paul II, he too had this intention in mind. Christ is to be at its centre, to be in the forefront. For many who have witnessed the almost Woodstock-like atmosphere of WYD celebrations, this attention seems odd. But to the young people, with “their questions, their openness, and their hopes,” the Church, the saintly pope said, must communicate “the certainty who is Christ, the Truth who is Christ, the love who is Christ.” This is the reason why Pope Francis announced last year that he was moving the celebration of World Youth Day to this feast of Christ the King: “The centre of the celebration remains the Mystery of Jesus Christ the Redeemer of Man, as Saint John Paul II, the initiator and patron of WYD, always emphasised.”
Let’s go back to the origins of today’s feast to understand its focus. By liturgical standards, today’s feast is relatively recent. It was only inaugurated at the end of 1925, the Jubilee Year which commemorated the anniversary of the First Ecumenical Council in Nicaea in 325 AD. The first ecumenical council defended the divinity of Christ against the Arian heresy which sought to dilute it. Now, on its anniversary, there were new issues which sought to dilute the centrality of Christ and His divinity.
At the turn of the twentieth century, the forces of secularism and humanism were advancing while that of the Church retreating. World War 1, described as the Great War or the War to end all wars, had left a devastating trail in Europe and beyond its shores. Pessimism, a sense of helplessness compounded by hatred among the nations, was overwhelming. The time was ripe for the rise of tyrants, and rise they did. Many considered the basics of morality and the teachings of the Church to be out of date, no longer relevant to modern society. Modern thinking allowed that, at most, Christ might be king in the private life of the individual, but certainly not in the public world. Some political regimes advocated the banishment of Jesus altogether, not only from society, but from the family as well.
In all these developments, Pope Pius XI saw that people were denying Christ in favour of a lifestyle dominated by secularism, material advantage and false hope created by the tyrants. Throughout the Jubilee Year of 1925, Pope Pius constantly emphasised the kingship of Christ as declared in the Creed: “His kingdom will have no end.” And so, on Dec. 11 of the jubilee year, as the Jubilee Year drew to a close, and in order to acknowledge perpetually the supremacy of Jesus Christ over all men, nations and earthly allegiances, the pope issued the encyclical Quas Primas, which added the feast of “Our Lord Jesus Christ the King” to the annual Church liturgical calendar.
A century later, this feast continues to speak loudly to our generation. We continue to be plagued by political leaders who wish to arrogate the power of God to themselves, to rewrite the moral rules of what is right or wrong, to take human life as if they were its creator, to dictate rules that would violate the conscience of every man and woman. The Solemnity of Christ the King holds out against these forces and seeks to remind mankind of what true power entails and where true power is to be found.
Pope Emeritus Benedict explains that the power of Christ, who has the cross as His throne and a circle of thorns as His crown, is to be seen in the light of what He has done for us through His sacrifice. The King shows us the true face of power through the powerlessness of the cross. Pope Benedict writes, this power “is not the power of the kings or the great people of this world; it is the divine power to give eternal life, to liberate from evil, to defeat the dominion of death. It is the power of Love that can draw good from evil, that can melt a hardened heart, bring peace amid the harshest conflict and kindle hope in the thickest darkness. This Kingdom of Grace is never imposed and always respects our freedom.”
My dear young people, as the Universal Church celebrates the faith that has been passed on down to you. Know this that as the world lures you with so many attractions which seek to gain your allegiance, there is only One whom you should rightly call Lord and Master. Only One whom you will not surrender your freedom but in which you can gain true freedom. Only One that shows that true power lies in the power of love - in giving, you receive; in dying to yourself you will gain eternal life; in losing all you will gain the greatest treasure of all. Only One who does not only speak Truth but is the truth while others can only offer opinions and lies. Only He alone must be at the front and centre of every decision of yours. Turn to Him and repeat the words of the good thief on the cross: “remember me when you come into your kingdom.” And we can be sure that His promise will one day be yours too: “today you will be with me in paradise.”
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