There will be no Mass without the Priesthood

Maundy Thursday

Most people would focus on the foot-washing ritual when thinking about today’s mass. Few realise that the foot washing rite is actually optional and is not a central component. Rather, the rubrics clearly spell out the focus of the homily: we are called to shed light “on the principal mysteries that are commemorated in this Mass, namely, the institution of the Holy Eucharist and of the priestly Order, and the commandment of the Lord concerning fraternal charity.” Most people would have certainly heard about the Eucharist, but how about the priesthood? 

I would like to begin by being honest here. It’s been a bad year for the Church. But the truth is: it’s been a bad year for Catholic priests. If our Church has been getting a bad rap this past year, the clergy is to be blamed, no doubt about it. Our Holy Father identifies the problem as the sin of clericalism and describes it in this manner: “Clerics feel they are superior, they are far from the people; they have no time to hear the poor, the suffering, prisoners, the sick.” Clericalism is the cause why priests live a double life and why sometimes they band together to cover up their faults. But there is much more to be said about the problem. The issue just isn’t about our attitude, it has to do with sin. The problem of clergy abuse clearly stems from a sinful lifestyle, from immoral behaviour that is incompatible with the priestly life, with the Christian life.

But despite the clergy abuse scandal and sin of clericalism, the Church continues to celebrate today, the institution of not just one sacrament but two. It’s not coincidental that the priesthood and Eucharist are established simultaneously. And this is why today, we commemorate the institution of both sacraments – the priesthood and the Eucharist. Both are intertwined, one cannot exist without the other. Without the priesthood, there would not only be no Sacrifice of the Mass; there would be no Catholic Church. This may sound strange, even audacious. But the truth is that God became man in order to sacrifice Himself on the Cross by dying for the salvation of the world. Having died once on Calvary, He continues offering Himself in every Mass so totally that that sacrifice is made present once again every time that Mass is offered, even until the end of time.

So, what makes the Mass possible? On the one hand, the Mass is possible only because Christ’s death on Calvary is literally repeated in every Mass. But the Mass is only possible if you have a priest because only the priest can offer the bloodless sacrifice of the Mass, for he not only stands in the person of Christ, but is wholly configured to Him; he is another Christ, Alter Christus. Though I may risk sounding arrogant, the truth is that there can be no Mass without the priesthood. That is why Christ instituted the Sacrament of the priesthood, to ensure that His sacrifice on Calvary would be renewed and repeated in every Mass until the end of time.

It is obvious that we can associate the Eucharist with the Last Supper, but how about the Priesthood? We can see this in the action of our Lord washing the feet of His disciples. Most people would easily recognise this as an example of Christ’s humility. This is true but there is more to it.  This action of washing appears to be a deliberate echo of the washing of the hands and feet done by the sacrificial priests of the Old Covenant. 

The washing was not just a practical and hygienic preparation for offering sacrifices at the altar of the Temple, but this washing symbolised the priest’s unworthiness to approach the Lord, so it’s fitting that the washing of feet occurs at the same time that the Apostles are entrusted with the Eucharist (they too are unworthy men).  But notice what’s different: the Old Covenant focused on self-purification. Priests performed ablutions to purify themselves. But the New Covenant is focused on sanctifying others.  We unworthy priests are washed, we are purified, in order that we may now purify, wash, and sanctify others. In fact, some commentators see in the term “bath” (used by the Lord) as an echo of Baptism (which can only be administered once) and subsequent “washings” to the sacrament of Penance.

Having established all of this, consider Christ’s dual commission. Both commissions find its source in these theologically powerful words of our Lord: “Do this in memory of Me.” The key words which solemnise the institution by Christ of the ministerial priesthood in its eternal relation to the Eucharist. Immediately after instituting the Eucharist, the Lord in other scriptural texts orders the Apostles: “do this in memory of me” (Lk. 22:19; 1 Cor. 11:24).  That doesn’t mean “treat this as a symbol.” The memorial offering of Christ’s Body and Blood actually is, Christ’s Body and Blood, it is making present His Death on Calvary.

But there is a second commission which is found only here in the Gospel of St John. It comes at the end of the washing of the feet. When he had washed their feet, the Lord said to them, “Do you understand … what I have done to you? You call me Master and Lord, and rightly; so I am. If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.” One may paraphrase this by using the same words of Christ, “do this in memory of Me.” This is the mandate (mandatum) that gives Maundy Thursday its name. 

So, the first commission recorded by St Luke and St Paul, “do this in memory of me,” refers to the Eucharist. But this second commission, refers to the priesthood. Most Christians read the washing of feet as simply a nice gesture, a sign of humble service to others. But Christ makes it clear that it’s so much more. It is about the sacrificial priesthood, about the priestly ministry of offering not only the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, but also forgiveness of sins in the sacraments of Baptism and Penance. And our Lord’s second commission is therefore a mandate to the Church to pass on the gift of the priesthood, without which, there would be no Eucharist, there would be no forgiveness of sins, there would be no Church.

In this day and age, there is so much pressure from people for priests to adopt their way of acting, their attitudes and habits, their agitated lives and occupations. But is this what is really needed?  Pity the poor priest, forced to prove his worth and justify his existence by his affability or other skills, rather than by his priesthood in offering the Sacrifice of the Mass, which is seen as innately worthless in an unbelieving world. Sometimes, I feel that so many of us priests often attempt to conform ourselves to these standards that we forget this one simple truth: the priest exists for one main purpose: to offer the Sacrifice of the Mass. When we forget this, then the cultic nature of the priesthood is diminished at the expense of making him a better manager or a better public speaker. Better managers and better speakers we have aplenty. But only a priest can do what a priest does best – offer the sacrifice of the Mass faithfully and diligently.

So tonight, I ask you to pray for your priests. Pray for us because we are sinners and not saints. If we were saints you would be praying "to" us. We priests are indeed weak, sinful men, men who have failed Christ, our vocation and our flock many times and sometimes in the most scandalous ways. The first "priests", the Apostles, were no different - one betrayed our Lord, another denied Him, and and others fled like cowards. Our ordination may have configured us to the person of Jesus Christ, but it is certainly not a canonisation. The light of Christ has shown in our hearts but as St Paul puts it, “we hold this treasure in pots of earthenware, so that the immensity of power is God’s and not our own.” We priests alone can offer the sacrifice of the Mass but we can take no credit for it. It is the audacity of God’s generosity who chose to make weak unworthy men like us His ministers.   Never cease praying for us because your prayers encourage and support us in times of trial or discouragement, so that there will be good and holy men called to priesthood to ensure that you should always have the Eucharist and the forgiveness for your sins.

Lord Jesus Come in Glory

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

This has been a dramatic year for Catholics around the world. As Pope Francis faces mounting pressure almost every day, to address the spiraling clergy sex-abuse crisis, bishops facing off other bishops, accusations of confusing teachings, has brought some new revelation or declaration. Many are predicting, thankfully some only tongue-in-cheek, that these things are pointing to the end of the world. The encircling gloom of the moral and spiritual decay we see in the world and within the Church, lends weight to this argument. But whenever doomsayers abound, unapologetic optimists abound the more with what sometimes seems to be a weak assurance: “It's not the end of the world… yet'” There are all sorts of ways of using that phrase. For example, it can be a way of saying that it isn't as bad as it seems. But the point of using this phrase is because we believe the “end of the world” to be a supremely bad thing. So we try to trivialise it or to postpone the end as far as possible and perhaps even avoid it altogether.

It may come as little consolation to some of you to know that the belief that the world was quickly coming to an end, was the basic sentiment of many Christians, and in fact most people, in the decades following the death of our Lord. In fact, our Lord, even predicts this moment without disclosing the exact date or time, “In those days, after the time of distress, the sun will be darkened, the moon will lose its brightness, the stars will come falling from heaven and the powers in the heavens will be shaken”. This certainly conjures a frightening image of cataclysmic destruction of cosmic proportions, that all that we know will cease to exist; all that sustains us is coming to an end. But this type of “doom speaking” is actually a style of speaking and writing that is today described as “apocalyptic.”

What apocalyptic writing always does is to resonate with the experiences of the people who hear it. Shortly before today’s passage, our Lord foretold the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. The audience for whom Mark writes his Gospel already knew that, the Temple was destroyed in the year 70 AD, and for many of them the destruction of the Temple was a momentous event that shook them to the core. The Temple, the House of God, Judaism’s centre of the universe, was destroyed in the Roman invasion. As far as the Jews and even Christians were concerned, this marked the “end of the world.” In fact, the Temple was seen as a microcosm of the universe, and astrological symbols representing the heavenly bodies in the universe were embroidered into the veil that formed a physical barrier that separated the holiest sanctuary of the Temple, the Holy of Holies, from the rest of the building. Was this what was meant by the “sun” and “moon” being darkened and losing their brightness? Probably.

.

And that's what Jesus is talking about in today's Gospel. The Gospel can sound rather forbidding, because they are about the end of the world, in the sense of the end of time, the last days. But actually, they also refer to events that have already taken place, “I tell you solemnly, before this generation has passed away all these things will have taken place.” The end of the world has happened. And instead of being bad news, it’s tremendously Good News. The sacrifice of Christ on the cross at Calvary is the ending not just of an age, but of all the ages.

When reading today’s gospel, our attention would certainly be taken up by the cataclysmic signs mentioned, namely that “the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will be falling from the sky, and the powers in the heavens will be shaken.” With so much happening on a cosmic scale, one can certainly miss the point. But the next line gives us the clue. “When you see these things happening, know that he is near, at the gates.” It’s just like the fireworks that go off before the start of an important event. People are often distracted by the pyrotechnic display in the sky, failing to see or forgetting for a moment, that this isn’t the focus of the celebrations, just the trappings; it isn’t the end, just the beginning. In other words, when reading today’s gospel, the focus is Christ, the Coming of the Son of Man in glory and victory, the one who is “near” and in fact “at the gates.”

To understand the Second Coming of Christ calls for understanding the Greek word ‘parousia’ (lit. ‘a being near’) used for this event. The choice of the word in Greek can speak of the reality of Christ having arrived (His first coming among men), His presence in our midst as well as His coming again in glory in the future to judge the living and the dead. Time and space collapses with this critical intervention of God in human history. We are living in the end times. The end is already here, but it has yet to be consummated. When is that going to happen? We should not be preoccupied with predicting the date of Christ’s Second Coming. “It is not for you to know times or seasons which the Father has fixed by his own authority.”(Acts 1:7)

At the end of the day, we will never be certain when the world will really come to an end. We won’t even be sure that the signs are really signs of the end times and not just natural cataclysmic events arising from shifting continental plates and changing weather conditions or just the usual turmoil that the Church is experiencing and has always been experiencing in the past. All these may seem pressing but Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI reminds us that these things should never distract us from three certainties which should always remain our foci.

1.      The first certainty is that Jesus is Risen and is with the Father and thus is with us forever. And no one is stronger than Christ. We are safe, and should be free of fear.

2.      Secondly, we are certain that Christ is with me. He is most certainly present in the Eucharist, the source and summit of my life. My faith in Him gives me the hope that the future is not darkness in which no one can find his way. Christ's light is stronger and therefore we live with a hope that is not vague, with a hope that gives us certainty and courage to face the future.

3.      Lastly, we are convinced that Christ will return as Judge and Saviour. Therefore, we must be accountable to Him for our every action and decision.

So, the cataclysmic signs that accompany the end should never be a reason for fear but always one of hope. The signs indicate an undoing of creation in anticipation of a re-creation. What these forces destroy is not goodness or life, but rather the power of evil and sin. Destruction has to come before perfection. When things look really bad, a glorious recovery is imminent. As the historian Christopher Dawson put it, “When the Church possesses all the marks of external power and success, then is its hour of danger; and when it seems that no human power can save it, the time of its deliverance is at hand.” History moves toward this steady goal - Jesus Christ. He is the central figure of all history. And so we as Christians should not cower in fear but joyfully welcome the day when Christ returns. This is exactly what we pray for at every Mass. 'Dying you destroyed our death, rising you restored our life, Lord Jesus come in glory!' or 'When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we proclaim your death Lord Jesus, until you come in glory.' At every Mass we are always praying that Christ will come again.

The end of the world is therefore a supremely good thing, and it is something that we Christians pray for and look forward to, not because we are fed up with this world, but because we love this world even as God loves it, and we long for it to be made whole and perfect, which God in His love for us will accomplish. He will return in triumph to fulfill God’s eternal purpose with all of creation. And that would be a marvel to behold. Until then, we pray, “Maranatha!” “Come Lord Jesus!” And to those who say, “the world is ending”, we reply, “Bring it on!”

It's Christ's Church

Twenty Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Some have called it a schism (a sin that breaks the unity of the Church). Others have called it a civil war. Call it what you may, it is quite clear to many, both within and outside the Catholic Church, that she is deeply split and fragmented with not just a binary but a multifaceted factionalism, made out of various factions who often adopt irreconcilable positions that are diagonally opposed to each other.  Modern and secular commentators often see it as a rift between left and right, liberal and conservative. To those who believe that they are defending the Sacred Tradition of the Church and her Magisterium, it is a fight between orthodoxy and heresy, plain and simple. To progressives, it boils down to either supporting or opposing the reform of Vatican II. It is indeed painful and saddening to witness the Body of Christ wounded by this, a Body that has been further scarred by the sexual abuse scandal, with various camps blaming the other for the mess.

Some say that it all boils down to the question of what can or should be tolerated and what is intolerable. Now the word “tolerance,” though quite common in modern parlance, is hardly featured in any official Church teaching. Furthermore, the modern concept of tolerance is also problematic, being a kind of oxymoron, a contradiction in terms. For example, tolerance seems to suggest accepting without judgment “all and sundry”, but that isn’t the case. Tolerance stops at the point where someone else disagrees with my idea of tolerance. Thus, the many factions within the Church often tolerate a great deal of nonsense by those whom they judge as either allies or who share their own ideological positions, but would tolerate nothing from the other camp even though the “other” side is capable of doing something objectively good. It is not too far from the truth to state that the Gospel of Tolerance is often quite intolerant, especially to those who do not share similar sentiments, preferences, and theological positions.

It would be easy for the various camps to spin today’s readings in their favour, but then a complete, instead of cursory reading of the texts, would soon reveal that both positions are incomplete if they fail to take in the opposition’s perspective. You see, the gospel passage has not one but two parts. The first part speaks of the permissible and the tolerable, the second of the unbearable.

St John is featured in today’s gospel as the complainant. In the Fourth Gospel, he’s known as the Beloved Disciple but his remarks in today’s Marcan account does little to endear us to him. He goes to the Master and complains, “We saw a man who is not one of us casting out devils in your name, and because he was not one of us we tried to stop him.” Notice his choice of words, “not one of us.” Interestingly, he did not say that this man was not a disciple of the Lord. He was simply “not one of us.” The point of reference, the grounds of this judgment, is that this man does not belong to their faction. It didn’t matter whether he was a disciple of the Lord or not. Neither does the passage, as so many commentators have attempted to say, speak of this man as being representative of non-Christians. The apostles are worried and annoyed because somebody is able to do good without being part of their group. Their monopoly over all that is true, good and beautiful is being threatened by this “outsider”.

But then the Lord reminds them, as does the first reading, that the Spirit is not the exclusive property of any particular individual or group. The Spirit blows where it wills. It is also good to remember that the Church does not belong to any faction. The Church is the Church of Christ, it belongs to Him. The point of reference is “Christ”, not “us.” Thus, it is tolerable that someone who does not belong to this group of Apostles does something good in our Lord’s name. The group needs to know that we do not have a monopoly over what is good. God is powerful enough to let a good deed – for example offering a cup of water – occur outside the group and to reward the benefactor. The story in the first reading is an explication of this first part of the gospel. Two of the seventy men singled out by God who were not part of Moses’ original choice also received the gift of the Spirit. Can you fault God for His generosity?

The readings here invite us to rethink the parameters within which God works. God is indeed a God of Surprises. He often works outside our familiar categories and beyond the parameters of expected normalcy. But we must avoid making the simplistic conclusion that this means that there are no basic differences between truth and falsity, between one ideology and the other, one religion and another, one denomination and the other. Notice that Christ’s words do not admit all and sundry but contain a caveat, only those who are “not against us is for us.” In other words, the recognition of the parallel ministry is posited on the fact that there is no contradiction between the teachings of Christ and the Church and that of the other. Immediately after challenging the narrow mentality of His disciples, Jesus begins to draw clear parameters and impose heavy penalties, including excommunication, for any infringement of the limits which He had set. The God of Surprises is not the God of confusion or chaos or “anything goes.” 

Notice the harshness of our Lord’s words in the second part of the Gospel passage. In contrast to the tolerant spirit in the first part of the passage, the Lord insists that it is unbearable when someone outside or inside the Church misleads those who are spiritually or morally weak (“one of these little ones”). Clear examples of the sexual abuse scandal come to mind. Leading the simple believer astray is satanic and merits merciless annihilation. But man can seduce himself: his evil desires lie in his hands, feet, and eyes, and he ought to move as mercilessly against these as against the seducer of others. Whatever leads astray, should be destroyed; in graphic terms, the members that stimulates one to evil should be hacked off and cast into hell.

These principles of tolerance and intolerance are most certainly relevant in the context of our current sexual abuse scandal. For far too long, the cover ups of these sexual crimes under the misguided guise of mercy and tolerance, has resulted in further injustices and continued perpetration of the abuse. As the Pope had said, there must be zero-tolerance for these crimes. This cannot mean that we should demonise certain individuals and groups. From a Christian perspective, all persons deserve unconditional respect and love for the simple fact that they are persons. But this does not extend to behaviour that is sinful and ideas and thoughts that are erroneous. Evil and falsehood should never be tolerated. It is intolerable to call evil good.

The Church continues to founder from the sexual-abuse crisis, and, she needs all the support and prayers she can get to steer the faithful past the shoals. The Body of Christ is already wounded by these despicable crimes committed by wolves in sheep clothing against members of their flock. She does not deserve to be further wounded by division, factionalism and in-fighting. More than 40 years ago, Venerable Pope Paul VI gave his great first encyclical the title, Ecclesiam Suam, which in Latin means “His Church.” It is always important to remember this simple truth. It is a reminder that the Catholic Church does not belong to the bishops, or to the priests or deacons or nuns or laypeople, let alone the Pope. The Church belongs to Jesus Christ.  It is His Church. This is what we can be certain of. This is what will save us in the end. What else is there to say? Let us take this opportunity to renew our faith and trust in Christ, who will continue to protect His Church, who offers her lasting peace and guides her safely through the storms of temporary difficulties to the glory of eternal life.