If the Lord does not build the House

Pentecost Vigil

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Church is your Mother

Solemnity of the Dedication of St John Lateran

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Blessed is He who comes

Palm Sunday

Knowing our need to see and to touch, the Church offers our senses a veritable feast during Holy Week. And who doesn’t love a free door gift, right? Catholics are no different. Today, we get to collect and hold our palms at the start of this Mass as we welcome the King of Kings. The palms, explains the liturgist Fr Pius Parsch, are “symbols of our loyalty to Him and of our willingness to do Him homage.” Thursday, we will witness the priest wash the feet of members of the congregation. Friday is when we march to the front to express our reverence and devotion to the wood of the cross, on which hung the salvation of the world. And on Saturday, we will hold candles as we welcome the Light of the World into our midst, into our world darkened by sin and death, now vanquished by our Risen Lord.

For many, these precious sacramentals were painfully denied to us and we had to be contented with the virtual experience of following these liturgical celebrations online. We could see but not touch. We could hear but not feel. These past few years had not just disrupted our routines but they had also been an assault to our sense of humanity. Seeing, hearing, touching, smelling and feeling is part of what makes us human.

But this year, we are back with a vengeance. We have been beaten, bruised, starved, masked, vaccinated, sanitised and deprived, but not defeated. Like the palms we hold, symbols of a martyr’s victory over death, we have survived. Like a Phoenix which rises anew from the ashes of its destruction, we Catholics have been reborn. Our victory is in Christ who faced death without flinching and even embraced it in a wrestle to the end and emerged victorious.

Today, at the start of Holy Week, the liturgy already provides us with a teaser of the ending. Yes, we have heard how our Lord would suffer in the long passion reading according to St Matthew, but we are also given a glimpse of how His passion is also a triumphant procession to victory: “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” Hosanna is the cry of the people to God to “save us” and our Lord Jesus Christ is the answer to their pleas because His name, Jesus, means God saves!

The procession we witnessed at the start of today’s liturgy commemorates the procession our Lord undertook when He entered Jerusalem to fulfil His mission. It was one of the few times in His life that our Lord accepted public honours. He only did so on His own terms, upsetting all our expectations of what we think a king should be. The palms which the citizens of Jerusalem held have also taken on a new meaning because of Christ. They are now symbols of martyrdom, a Christian’s true glory and honour. Our Lord received gold, the symbol of kingly power, only as a helpless infant. Now, as a man who has manifested unimaginable power, He chooses the meekness prophesied by Zechariah, repeated in today’s Mass: “Tell the daughter of Sion, Behold, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on an ass, and on a colt, the foal of an ass” (Matthew 21:5) “He is the king of peace,” writes the late Pope Benedict XVI, “and by God’s power, not His own.”

In just a few days, the lauds will turn to sneers: “We have no king but Caesar!” A distressed Pilate puts the question to Jesus, “Are you the king of the Jews?” “My kingdom is not of this world,” He replies. He is Lord not just of a particular people, nor even of “this world.” He transcends all that this world has to offer. He is Truth itself, the very foundation upon which the world rests. “For this I was born, and for this I have come into the world, to bear witness to the truth. Everyone who is of the truth hears my voice.” (John 18:37)

Those who reject the truth send Him to the Cross, the most ironic of thrones for the king to mount. Near the end of today’s passion reading, we hear the chief priests and scribes mock and ridicule Him: “He saved others; he cannot save himself. He is the king of Israel; let him come down from the cross now, and we will believe in him. He puts his trust in God; now let God rescue him if he wants him. For he did say, ‘I am the son of God.’” Even in mockery, unwittingly they state a truth which underlies this entire story - Jesus is no mere king of the Jews, feted by people and hailed to be their political liberator. He is so much more. He is “the son of God.” Today, we cry with the people of Jerusalem as we do at every Mass, “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest!” He who has come to save us, has come to die for us and in dying for us, He has come to feed us with His Body and Blood in the Eucharist! Divine Food that is real, not just virtual. So we sing, “Hosanna in the highest.”

God is with us

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year A

If you’ve ever had the opportunity to walk into an Orthodox Church, your senses will be immediately assaulted by a delightful riot of colours - colourful icons lining the walls, and with the largest concentration of them on the iconostasis, the icon laced screen which separates the nave of the church from the sanctuary where the holy mysteries are celebrated. But one icon stands out and provides an easy point of focus to any visitor because it is usually present in the upper part of the altar, the apsidal vault, the focal point of any church. What does this image show, and what is behind its name?


The icon shows the Mother of God from the waist up, facing us, with her hands lifted up to the level of her head, elbows bent. From time immemorial this gesture has signified a prayerful appeal to God, and still are sometimes, called Oranta (Latin for praying). The Christ-child, Emmanuel, is depicted in a circle of light at her bosom. It almost has a fish bowl effect which allows us to peer into the womb of the Blessed Virgin. But instead of a not fully formed foetus, we are presented with a miniature version of an adult Christ (minus the facial hair) with His hands extended in benediction. Although first timers would conclude that this is an icon of the Holy Mother of God, a more reflective scrutiny gives the impression of Mary presenting us with Christ, and our attention is drawn – as always with icons of the Theotokos – to her Son, our Saviour. Mary is merely the frame, Christ her son is the masterpiece.

Though it has several names, the most common name for this icon is the Lady of the Sign. It derives its name from this passage which we just heard in the first reading: ‘The Lord himself, therefore, will give you a sign. It is this: the maiden is with child and will soon give birth to a son whom she will call Immanuel, a name which means “God-is-with-us.”’

This sign was a kind of a super bonus which God decided to give to Ahaz, even though the latter chose not to ask for it. For those who know the back story of Ahaz, this sudden refusal to ask God for a sign did not come from a good place, as if Ahaz did it out of humble obedience to God. In fact, Ahaz is considered to be one of the worst kings of Judah, and his own personal faults were compounded by an equally evil wife, Jezebel. Together, they epitomised the couple from hell. So, why would God “reward” this evil king with this promise of a sign?

Ahaz was about to be forced into an alliance, in a vain attempt to oppose the crushing military power of Babylon. For you Black Panther fans out there, think of this as something similar to the proposed alliance between Wakanda and Talokan - a marriage doomed for failure. The prophet Isaiah goes to Ahaz and warns him that the alliance would be fatal: he had better trust in the Lord rather than in human machinations. Isaiah promises a sign, which Ahaz refuses, not because he has a change of heart and does not want to put God to the test. The real reason for the refusal is simple - he does not want to be convinced! He doesn’t want to change his mind. But God will have none of this. Ahaz will get a sign, even if he chooses to reject it, because the sign will have a significance far greater than this political conundrum which Ahaz is facing. It would be a sign which will herald salvation, not just for Ahaz or for this moment but for all generations to come.

What is this sign? The original Hebrew simply reads, ‘A girl is with child and will bear a son’, indicating that within a few months the threat will vanish and Jerusalem will be convinced that God is on their side – hence the boy will be called Emmanuel, “God-is-with-us.”. But the Greek translation of the Hebrew, made some 200 years before the birth of Jesus, translates ‘The virgin (or maiden) is with child’, which the evangelist Matthew sees as a prophecy of the birth of Jesus from the Virgin Mary.

In the gospel, we have another man who is promised a sign but this man is the diametrical moral opposite of Ahaz in the Old Testament. Though he is a descendant of Ahaz and King David, St Joseph is described as a “man of honour,” or in some translations a “righteous man”. Unlike, his notorious ancestor, Joseph puts up no resistance to the angel’s message through the medium of a dream: ‘Joseph son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary home as your wife, because she has conceived what is in her by the Holy Spirit. She will give birth to a son and you must name him Jesus, because he is the one who is to save his people from their sins.’ And St Matthew then adds the additional editorial note that this was to fulfil Isaiah’s prophecy: ‘The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.’

Although the prophecy says that “they will call him Emmanuel,” Mary and Joseph didn’t give their son that name. Instead, they followed the directions given specifically to them to name Him Jesus. As seen in today’s passage, the meaning of Emmanuel is ‘God-is-with-us.’ The promised child was given the name of Jesus, which means ‘God-saves.’ There is no contradiction between the two. God is with us not in some dormant or passive way. He is with us for one singular purpose - to save us.

So, today, even if you are not ready for a sign or feel any need for a sign, even if you have not asked for one, know this, that God will give you a sign; indeed, He has given you one, the only one that truly matters - His Son Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. If you’ve ever asked for a sign from God, especially when you are at the crossroads and at a moment of decision, know this to be true - God has given you the sign: “The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son and they will call him Emmanuel.”

Think about it. Isn’t this the sign you’ve always craved? Haven’t your hearts been asking for nothing less than this – that God should know what it’s like to be you, to understand your deepest pain, your hardship, and your daily struggles. To learn what it means to be here, to be in your shoes, to be with us. That was the promise and this is the sign. God would come. And soon, very soon, we will celebrate His virgin birth. He came here to die. He came to free us from this world of sin. He came not just to be with us, but to make it so that we could forever be with Him. With Christians throughout the world and through the centuries, let us cry:

O Come O Come Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Ephphatha!

Twenty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Being a deaf and mute person would have been a double handicap in any ordinary society. Much of social interaction and communication and in fact all aspects of life, education, work, entertainment, religious worship, heavily depend on one’s ability to hear and speak. Technology, sign language skills and interpreters may help mitigate some of the obstacles to communication, but it is clear that in a normal hearing and speaking society, the deaf and the mute are grossly disadvantaged.

In today’s passage, we have this man who was both deaf and had a speech impediment. He was not just cut off from the rest of society by his inability to communicate, but would have also been considered an outcast in the highly ritualistic and auditory Jewish community. The most fundamental commandment incorporated into the daily prayers of a Jew begins with these words, “Shema, O Israel” or “Hear O Israel” (Deut 6:4-5), but for a deaf person, these words would have made no sense whatsoever as he is unable to heed the call to listen to God. The rite of passage for a child as he passes into adulthood would be determined by his ability to read the Torah and proclaim it in the community thus qualifying him to be called “Bar Mitzvah” or a “Son of the Law/ Commandments” but once again, a mute person would have to remain perpetually infantilised as he is unable to read and proclaim the words of the Torah.

But wait – I forgot to mention that this deaf and mute man hails from the Gentile territory of the Decapolis, so it is likely that he is a Gentile and not a Jew. His disabilities not only accentuate his marginalised position but is also symbolic of it. Like this deaf man, the Gentiles too are disqualified from being “Sons of the Law”.

You may recall that this is not our Lord’s first recorded excursion to this Gentile territory. The last time He had visited the area, it didn’t go well. He had healed the Gerasene demoniac and the reception He received was entirely different from the one He was experiencing now. What should have been a show of victory on His part, turned out to be a disaster. Instead of impressing the local population, they chased Him out of the area. We can only speculate their reason for doing so: perhaps due to the financial loss of losing an entire herd of swine or that our Lord’s action had disrupted the status quo which they had grown accustomed too. But there is a flicker of hope in that story. Our Lord did something which He had never done before when healing others on Jewish territory. He commissioned the liberated former demoniac to be His emissary, His first Gentile “apostle.” And it could have been the work of this man that had produced a less hostile and more hospitable crowd, which brought this deaf and mute man to our Lord.

“Mogilalos”, the Greek term used to describe the deaf man's condition, appears only in one other place in the Bible, which helps us to see that this gospel passage is a fulfilment text: Isaiah 35: 5-6. Isaiah 35 follows a series of oracles in which the prophet proclaims judgment against nations and cities including Tyre (chap. 23), Jerusalem (chap. 28), and Edom (chap. 34). After the destruction of these lands, Isaiah 35 explains, there will be a great restoration accompanied by everlasting holiness and joy. Among the wonders to occur are the healing of the deaf and mute, those who suffered the condition of mogilalos. Originally, the Isaian text refers to the joyful return home of the Jews after their exile in Babylon, but St Mark is now hinting that the Gentiles too are now co-heirs of the same blessing. By healing the deaf and mute man in a pagan territory, our Lord proved that the era of restoration had come, salvation was at hand, and that God would be restoring all things through His Son.

Most of our Lord’s miracles were performed publicly but this one is unique, in that our Lord takes this man aside away from the crowds. There is a poignant intimacy in this private encounter. Our Lord then performs the healing not just by uttering a formula as in other cases but speaking in some form of sign language to this deaf-mute in no less than seven different actions. After taking him aside, our Lord puts His fingers into the man’s ears, spits, touch his tongue, gaze up to heaven, groans and says to him, “Ephphatha!” A signature feature of St Mark’s gospel is the retention of certain Aramaic words.

This healing illustrates once again, the sacramental quality of the body - its ability to be a visible sign and instrument of divine grace - and the fact that our Lord’s work of salvation involves the whole human being, soul and body. The strange foreign sounding word, “Ephphatha”, that came from the lips of Jesus in His very own language, can still be heard and pronounced in churches today every time we pray that a person be enlightened with the gift of faith, and emboldened to proclaim it. As Christ removed the impediments that would have prevented this man from becoming a Son of the Law, through baptism, He removes the obstacles that would keep us from becoming sons and daughters of God.

It is not surprising to see how the Ephphatha rite has been incorporated into the catechumenal ministry or Rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) because there are so many parallels between the story of the healing of the deaf-mute and the coming into the faith of a person seeking baptism. St Ambrose, as early as in the 4th century, gives us a glimpse as to how the rite of signing the senses was used as a pre-baptismal preparation: “Open then your ears. Enjoy the fragrance of eternal life, breathed on you by means of the sacraments. We explained this to you as we celebrated the mystery of “the opening” when we said: Ephphatha, that is, be opened [Mark 7:34]. Everyone who was to come for the grace of baptism had to understand what he was to be asked, and must remember what he was to answer.”

The deaf-mute man who needs healing is an unbeliever just as the enquirer. He is brought by others - much as a catechumen is accompanied by sponsors. They ask for hand-laying, just as is practiced in the exorcisms of the scrutinies. Our Lord takes the man apart from the crowd, just as catechumenal formation takes place apart from the community. Our Lord works the miracle through actions and words, just as how we celebrate sacraments. And the man who was once deemed disqualified from rendering worship to God because of his impediments, was restored to a condition where he can now participate fully in the sacred assembly.

Like all healings in the gospels, the physical cure of the deaf and mute man is real, but also has a deeper spiritual significance. The relationship between the inability to speak and deafness, pictures some of sin's effects. Those who are deaf to the Word of God will have great difficulty speaking properly of spiritual matters. God designed human beings not only with physical senses but also with marvellous spiritual capacities to see, hear and relate to Him. These interior faculties were disabled by original sin, causing a severe communication breakdown between God and humanity. Our Lord’s healing of people who are deaf, blind and lame, is a sign of His restoration of humanity to the fullness of life and communion with our Creator. Now by the grace of Christ, we are able to hear God’s voice in our hearts, sing His praises, and proclaim His mighty deeds to all nations. Let us not behave as if we are still spiritually deaf and mute.

The Bridge between the Old and the New

Third Sunday of Advent Year A

If you have ever stepped into an Eastern Orthodox Church, one of the things that will strike you is that the view of the sanctuary where the altar is located is concealed by a screen decorated by a multitude of icons, the iconostasis. For the Eastern Christians, the iconostasis does not serve as a barrier that separates the nave from the sanctuary but is actually a doorway into the sanctuary, into the Holy of Holies. For the iconostasis symbolises the barrier that divides Heaven and Earth which has been torn. A permanent feature of the iconostasis is the icon of the Theotokos, who stands on the left of the Royal Door, and an icon of Christ the Pantokrator, who stands to the right. And then immediately to the right of the icon of Christ stands St John the Baptist, the Forerunner of Christ. The Forerunner prepares the Way for Christ’s first coming, and Christ and the Church honours the Forerunner in perpetuity.

Just as the iconostasis act as a bridge between Heaven and Earth, St John the Baptist stands as a bridge of continuity between the Old and New Testament. The Old Testament prophets all looked forward to the time of John and spoke of the Messiah who was then to appear. The Old Testament closes with this prophecy of the coming of Elijah (Mal. 4:5, 6) and the New Testament opens with a record of a fulfillment of that prophecy (Matt. 3:1–3 3). The prophetic office of the Old Testament times, reached a climax in John when the old reached its hopes and gave way to the new. This is the reason why in today’s gospel, our Lord pays the highest tribute to St John. John is languishing in prison because he had the courage to call Herod to repentance for marrying his brother’s wife. Soon he would be beheaded for the stand he took.

As he approaches his own death, St John the Baptist must now be certain that his mission is complete, that the One, whose Way he had been preparing, had actually arrived. So having heard reports of Jesus’ exploits, John sends his disciples to question our Lord, “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” Many Christians are perturbed by John’s question; isn’t he the cousin of our Lord? Didn’t he baptise our Lord at the river Jordan and announce Him to be the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world? Some commentators have tried to understand this by arguing that it was John’s disciples who had doubts, and therefore, John had sent them to our Lord for the purpose of clearing their doubts and with the hope that they will now follow Him. Others would explain John’s actions by saying that he expected a powerful Messiah that would baptise with Spirit and fire, and now there appears this gentle one who “will not quench a smoldering wick” (Isaiah 42:3).

Whether it was John or his disciples or both who harboured doubts, Our Lord calms their disquiet by showing him that the prophecy is being fulfilled in himself, “Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor; and happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.” Our Lord is alluding to the prophecies of the Prophet Isaiah. He is telling John’s disciples that He is indeed the fulfillment of the prophecies.

But Our Lord adds this beatitude at the end, “Happy (or Blessed) is the man who does not lose faith in me.” Of course, the beatitude can be taken to apply to everyone, to all Christians who do “not lose faith” in Christ. But this is spoken to the Baptist in the first instance. It must have come as a powerful assurance to John, for John is indeed the one who did “not lose faith” in Christ. These words were meant as an encouragement to John, despite his seemingly bleak condition and uncertainty, to continue to believe in Jesus as the Messiah, and not lose or falter in his faith. These words still have great relevance for us Christians today. Many of us go through seasons in our Christian life where we struggle with doubts and faith in God, in Christ and in His Church, especially now when we are confronted with the darkness of unbelief, the enveloping darkness of sin, the scandal of sexual abuse, the confusing reports we receive about the happenings and controversies within the Church. In such dark times, it is easy to doubt and to lose heart. But our Lord assures us again, “happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.”

Like St John the Baptist, we are invited to look at our Lord and all His works in this chaotic world of ours. In the midst of darkness, there is the light of His grace; in the midst of confusion, there is clarity of His teachings; in the midst of hopelessness, there is His promise of salvation. In different ways, we too are called to give witness to this faith as St John the Baptist did.  As St Paul tells us, “you too have to be patient, do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming is soon.”

Then comes the part where our Lord states that John the Baptist is a true “witness” to His mission and ministry. The Greek word for witness is “matyron” from where we derive the word “martyr.” Some have questioned whether St John the Baptist could be accurately described as a martyr for Christ, since he preceded Christ and his imprisonment and execution appears to have been occasioned by his outspoken opposition to Herod. Well, the Venerable St Bede had this answer, “There is no doubt that blessed John suffered imprisonment and chains as a witness to our Redeemer, whose forerunner he was, and gave his life for him. His persecutor had demanded not that he should deny Christ, but only that he should keep silent about the truth. Nevertheless, he died for Christ. Does Christ not say: I am the truth? Therefore, because John shed his blood for the truth, he surely died for Christ.” John was indeed a martyr for Christ. He was not a “reed swaying in the breeze,” his conviction did not falter and his faith did not stumble in the face of death.  He would not be moved. He would not change his message when the religious big shots showed up. And finally, it was his uncompromising stand for Truth that got him thrown in prison and finally beheaded.

So, our Lord was right when He made this pronouncement, “of all the children born of women, a greater than John the Baptist has never been seen.” Having paid such a great tribute to this man, our Lord adds this cryptic verse, “yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he is.” Who is our Lord referring to? After Our Lord Jesus died and rose again, everything that the Old Testament prophets and St John the Baptist looked forward to, we Christians know and have. Everything they had hoped for, we understand. All that they believed would come, we know has come. John could never truly preach the gospel, because the gospel is all about the death and resurrection of Christ, but we can, we who have been baptised into Christ’s death and have risen with Him in baptism. St John the Baptist never experienced the coming of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost, but we have at our baptism and confirmation. Yes, we are the ones our Lord was referring to “the least in the kingdom of heaven.”  This is because as our Lord tells us in Luke’s gospel (10:23-24), “Blessed are the eyes which see the things you see, for I say to you, that many prophets and kings wished to see the things which you see, and did not see them, and to hear the things which you hear, and did not hear them.” Well, we have seen and heard what St John the Baptist longed to hear and see.

Our Lord gave this glowing tribute to John. And my brothers and sisters, as hard as it is to believe, one day if you are faithful to Him unto death, if you are not a “reed swaying in the breeze”, if you patiently wait and not lose heart, He will give you a glowing tribute before everyone who has ever lived. Live with this conviction. Deny yourself as St John did and live unto Christ. Don’t live for the approval of man, but for the approval of God. And on that final day, you too will receive praise from the very lips of Jesus Christ. What higher goal could we possibly live for?

Divine Physicality

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year C

Gnosticism is one of the most ancient philosophies or ideologies known to man. It had its origin in paganism but burst into full flower when several groups who appropriated its teachings eventually broke from early Christianity. Many are not aware that Gnosticism is still quite active and alive. Today, this ideology is found in several religions of the East, in the New Age movement and also in secular modern thought. At the heart of Gnosticism is a hatred of the material world, in particular, the human body. One can already see traces of this in the transgender movement. The pagan Gnostics rejected the material world as the evil creation of an inferior Demiurge, the world-making deity, that later Gnostic heretics identified with Creator God, as revealed in the Old Testament. Against the orthodox understanding of the goodness of all creation, they believed that the material world was irredeemable, and therefore that human redemption meant salvation of the immaterial soul — the divine spark—from its imprisonment. The doctrine of total depravity in Calvinism which has influenced much of Protestantism is quite loosely similar to this notion, thus the Protestant distrust and even rejection of any physical or visible representation of the divine.

All this is of course at odds with our Catholic sensibilities. Catholicism is physical as it is spiritual. Physicality is at the heart of the principle of sacramentality – “outward sign of inward grace” – the invisible concealed and revealed in the visible. Our faith is not about ideas or dead texts found in a book, but about the Word becoming flesh. This is what the Incarnation means – “in the flesh.” It is centered on one born of a woman, born under the Jewish law, to save us not through the promise of future incarnations of our 'spirits', but through the offering of His body once and for all. The ministry of Jesus is to poor human bodies. He opens eyes so that they see, ears so that they hear, and He loosens tongues so that they speak.

Likewise, the scene of the Visitation is pregnant with the physical (forgive the pun). The visitation of Elizabeth by Mary is about bodies: pregnant bodies, a kicking foetus, sounds reaching ears, and mouths speaking. Elizabeth hears and believes and proclaims. Our attention is drawn to her hearing and her speaking. Even the movement of the child within her womb is a revelation. Revelation is communicated to Elizabeth and faith is established in her through physical events: her meeting with Mary, their conversation, John the Baptist leaping in her womb, with the Spirit working through these things. Not just spirit, but spirit and flesh.

Likewise in the second reading from Hebrews we are told that Jesus, on coming into the world, is given a body. By presenting Christ’s taking flesh in this way, Hebrews tell us a number of things about the mystery of the Incarnation. They tell us first about the importance of the body, of Christ’s body. Christmas is a very physical affair. It is about God, who is wholly spiritual and immaterial, sharing in the material bodily lives of our humanity, so that we may have a share in His divinity. It recognises the fact that we are bodily creatures, part of a material creation, and that our bodies and the physical world around us are of real value in the eyes of the God who created them. Our bodies are essential to our common life together, to the way we communicate one with another, and share our lives with each other. All this was affirmed when God communicated with us, spoke with us, by becoming one of us, by taking a human body to Himself from the body of a human mother, when the Word became flesh.

But Hebrews does not tell us only of a body. It tells us about Christ’s activity. Christ has come to do God’s will. The human body, human life, is brought to perfection by the action of Christ. The Son of God, did not just come to heal our bodies but He came to suffer and die, and He rose again, in order to become the source of our salvation. He came not only to save the immortal spiritual soul, but our physical bodies. Here we see how the communion between us and God is restored: Christ takes a body that can die. It is not enough for Him simply to be human, and it is not enough for us simply to be human. He does God’s will, and so brings us the forgiveness of our sins. No longer need we take animals to represent our sacrifice, no longer do we need to make any burnt offerings for sin: it is done in the body of Jesus Christ offered once, and for all, and continues in the offering of ourselves, our bodies, in union with Him in the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass. We participate by grace in Christ’s offering of Himself, by receiving His body and blood at the altar, and by becoming more deeply as members of His one body, offered in one Spirit to the Father.

Ours then is a physical religion. At its heart is the woman who said 'let what you have said be done to me', and the man who says 'behold I have come to do your will in the body you have prepared for me'. The physicality of the Visitation, and in fact of the other great events in the history of salvation recorded here in the Gospel of St Luke; the Annunciation, the Nativity of our Lord, His Passion, Death and Resurrection, all point to the physicality which we experience whenever we enter our churches. It points us to the tabernacle where not just the soul or divine spirit of Our Lord resides, but where both His soul and divinity, body and blood are physically, really, substantially and continuously present. If you love our Lady, you must love the Eucharist. You see, the primordial tabernacle, the first vessel for Jesus Christ, is the Blessed Virgin Mary.

How do we react when we find ourselves so near to our Lord, to His “physical” presence? John, the child in Elizabeth’s womb, could not contain his joy and leapt, danced, rejoiced at the approach of Jesus. I think it is fair to say that few of us react with such poignant and uncontainable joy when we come close to our Lord. In every Catholic church, there present is Jesus Christ – in His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Fully, truly, really, and substantially present. This is not a mere symbol, nor even some manner of imperfect presence. Far too often we are guilty of falling scandalously short of appropriate reverence for the Eucharist. Let us pray that we will experience the same excitement as did a child in his mother’s womb.

Apart from St John, we have Mary, our Blessed Mother, the perfect example of devotion to Jesus, of reverence for His Holy Presence. She leads the Church to keep vigil at the crèche, awaiting the birth of her son. Consider the words of Saint Teresa of Calcutta: “In the mystery of the Annunciation and the Visitation, Mary is the very model of the life we should lead. First of all, she welcomed Jesus in her existence; then, she shared what she had received. Every time we receive Holy Communion, Jesus the Word becomes flesh in our life – gift of God who is at one and the same time beautiful, kind, unique. Thus, the first Eucharist was such: Mary’s offering of her Son in her, in whom he had set up the first altar. Mary, the only one who could affirm with absolute confidence, “this is my body”, from that first moment offered her own body, her strength, all her being, to form the Body of Christ.”

I would like to make a final comment on the Feast of the Visitation, which is now celebrated on the 31^st of May every year. In the year 1389, Pope Urban VI extended the celebration of the feast of the Visitation to the entire Church.  It was a tumultuous time for the Church, who was experiencing the effects of the Great Schism – the Church was divided into East and West. Urban VI hoped that Christ and the Blessed Virgin Mary would visit the Church and put an end to the turmoil. In our busyness to make preparation for Christmas, let us never forget to ask our Mother to pray for the Church and put an end to the turmoil we are experiencing now.