He stretched and touched us

Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

These are strange times. I would occasionally venture out of the church compound to do my grocery shopping and would notice this frequent phenomenon - people actively moving away from me as I passed. I see people wearing masks and wiping off surfaces that other people may have touched. Apart from certain stores, everything else is closed. No one wants to be closer than one metre from anyone else. I try to keep it at two metres just to be on the safe side. You can even be fined or arrested for getting too close to another.

COVID-19 has spread throughout the entire world, and everyone is viewing those around them as a potential carrier and therefore a potential threat. Even my close friends don’t want me in their house (though to be fair, I don’t really want them in mine either). We are living in a moment in history where we are all viewed as a great danger to one another. This is, of course, all necessary and understandable during this pandemic. However, it is still a strange time of being isolated and feeling, in a way, unwanted by those around me.

Sanitary practises and social distancing may seem to be part of the new normal but they are as old as the Bible. We see in the first reading, biblical prescriptions set out to prevent an infectious disease from spreading in the community. To avoid contact and contamination, the leper, the person infected with this virulent skin disease, is to observe a strict regime of social distancing. He is to be quarantined and kept apart from the community, and he is to be dressed in a manner easily identifiable and to shout out warnings to others to ensure that the social distancing measures are not violated.

But we see something entirely different in the gospel. Our Lord bridges the gap and closes the distance. He, in fact, breaks with the SOP on social distancing in His encounter with the leper. Our Lord did not just speak to the leper and draw close to him, but he did the most outrageous thing - our Lord “stretched out his hand and touched him.” Some of you may immediately declare - “how gross!” Upon reading this, my hands automatically reached out for the nearest hand sanitiser as if the touch of Jesus would also render my flesh contaminated too.

But this story is not just about infectious diseases and the public health precautious we must observe. It is a story about humanity, sin and salvation. An infectious disease is the most apt analogy for sin. Consider this - we are that leper, covered not with the sores of that horrible disease, but covered in the shame of our sins. Our sins have rendered us untouchable. Our sins have kept us separated from God, the community and others. Sin is equally infectious. It is interesting how sin begets sin. Unless one’s spiritual immunity is high, many of us could easily succumb to the pandemic of sin that is so prevalent in our culture and society.

But contemplating the story of how Christ approached, spoke to, touched and healed the leper, has made me all the more grateful for what He has done to me. Regardless of how gross our past or present is, the lesson from the leper tells us that our Lord still wants to reach out and touch us. Christ did not shy away from us in our guilt and shame. Instead, He willingly stepped into the pandemic of our sin and the havoc that it has brought on this world. And it was a dangerous thing to do. It led Him to the cross. But He loves us that much to risk the terminal effects of sin, for He knew that the only way He would find a cure to sin was to consume it and transform it within His body, like how venom is transformed into anti-venom and immunity is produced from the mutation of the original virus.

As much as this pandemic has wreaked havoc in our world in a way that has not been seen in more than a century, the coronavirus is a small problem in comparison to the problem of sin. Governments have taken such drastic measures to quell the spread of COVID-19, but seem unconcerned with the pandemic of sin. We’ve had this coronavirus pandemic for more than a year and sometimes, it feels like eternity. But we’ve had sin plague us since the beginning of human history. COVID-19 may take the lives of some and threaten the livelihood of others, but sin can deprive us of something far more important – eternal life. Yes, we’ve battled sin, many have succumbed to it, but we live in hope and not in defeat because we have already found the cure - it is Jesus Christ, our Lord and Saviour. Christ has entered into this sinful world, He has come near to us, and He offers redemption.

And though at times, we may feel too ashamed of our condition to approach the Lord or go and see a priest for confession for fear that we would be harshly judged, the example of the leper teaches us how when one approaches the Lord in humility and faith, not as someone entitled, but as someone recognising that grace is always a gift given to the undeserving, telling Him, “if you want to, you can cure me”, we can be certain that Our Lord would never turn us away or refuse that request. This is what He will say to us every time we turn to Him in sincere repentance, “Of course I want to! Be cured!”

Is there more?

 Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

The words of Job in the first reading, spoken after he had lost everything - his children, his home, his wealth and his friends - and as he sits on a dung heap ruminating in self-pity, can resonate with so many of us as we are similarly weighed down by the drudgery of our daily routine. A bitter irony of modern life is just when computers and robots should give people more time for creativity and relaxation, the opposite is often the case for many, a continued life of drudgery.

To paraphrase Job’s rhetorical question, “is there more to life than this?” What is the purpose of life? If drudgery stems from finding no purpose in our work, in our relationships or even in our existence, finding purpose in life would be its antidote. This is the reason why people experience listlessness and boredom in life. When they no longer see a purpose for what they are doing - whether it is in the form of better remuneration, or reciprocated love, or positive appraisal from others, or greater power and influence - they lose interest.

Today, both St Paul and our Lord in the gospel we’ve just read, spell out the purpose for our Christian life - it is to preach the gospel and work for the salvation of souls. And unlike other kinds of work, the work of evangelisation, as St Paul reminds us “is a duty which has been laid on” us; “it is a responsibility which has been put into (our) hands.”

In the gospel reading, we find our Lord being pressed by His own disciples to resume the work of performing miracles, healing the sick and delivering the possessed from demonic affliction. It is a tiring job, to say the least. But this is not the reason why our Lord refuses to accede to His disciples’ request and meet people’s expectations. He is ultimately guided by a higher purpose: “Let us go elsewhere, to the neighbouring country towns, so that I can preach there too, because that is why I came.”

Our Lord could have been tempted to continue His works of healing and attending to the needs of the crowd, but this would only be an excuse to become more popular. Staying to meet the needs of the people would only be an excuse for meeting His own need for recognition and love. But He understood that His mission laid elsewhere, even though this may prove to be unpopular with His disciples and the crowds.

As Christians, how do we stay motivated? Our Lord provides us with three essential coordinates to stay focused on our goal and remain steadfast in our resolve.

The first coordinate is that the will of God must always be our starting point and our point of reference. All other things are constantly in flux - health, relationships, work, emotions - but only one thing remains constant - it is God. As St Teresa of Avila wisely puts it: “all things passes, only God remains.” Since God is the eternal constant, the anchor and safe harbour we possess in this tumultuous sea of life, He must be the measure of everything we do and say.

In this light, we must remember that it is never enough to do good, even if it is good done to and for others. The starting point cannot just be the needs of the other; the starting point cannot just be our assessment of what is convenient or expedient; the starting point cannot just be based on the opinions of the masses, even if it may be that of the majority. Ultimately, we must always choose to do what God wants of us. This criterion points to God’s mission and vocation for us. Sometimes, doing what God wants of us can be unpopular and may even go against our personal likes and interests.

The second coordinate is that of prayer. Note that our Lord went off into the hills to pray. How can we possibly know the will of God unless we are also persons rooted in prayer? Prayer is the life-giving link between God and His people. Prayer provides us with a moral compass and direction in life. Prayer ensures that we are not lost in the mess of activism nor allow ourselves to be distracted and tempted by the competing voices of the world and self. Prayer helps us to purify our motives and intentions so that we may not deceive ourselves into believing that we are acting in the interests of others, whereas it is our own interests which are being advanced.

The last point is that all our activities must ultimately be orientated to work for the salvation of souls. Today, very little is often said about salvation, what more salvation of souls. Too often, the Christian message has been reduced to some ‘feel good’ gospel which provides a mixture of pop psychology and spirituality for our earthly lives. And during a pandemic, safety seems to have replaced salvation. But, if one were to recall the answer to the second question contained in the old Penny Catechism, one will be reminded that salvation is man’s ultimate purpose – we are created by God “to know Him, love Him and serve Him and be with Him in Paradise forever.”

The last canon of the Code of Canon Law, canon 1752 has often been erroneously cited as the ‘pastoral canon’, a perfect excuse to dispense with every rule, restriction, prohibition and responsibility laid out in the Code. Any simple reading of canon 1752 will tell you that this canon has no intention of doing this. If one were to study this canon, one may be surprised to see that the word ‘pastoral’ or ‘pastoral reasons’ does not appear at all. Fr Dominic is fond of saying that when we priests cite this canon or “pastoral reasons” to break the law, the real motive is not “pastoral reasons,” but “Pastor’s reasons.” This is what the canon actually says: that “the salvation of souls, which must always be the supreme law in the Church, is to be kept before one’s eyes.’ St. Paul in today’s second reading affirms this truth by telling his readers that he deliberately chose to be “all things to all men” so that “some may be saved.”

It is not enough to choose to help people who are in need. We may just be providing temporary relief. It is not enough that we are able to provide some human solution to poverty, because we will always have the poor in a society which remains indifferent to injustice. Ultimately, the objective of salvation must come to play in every important decision that we make. Salvation must be the ultimate criteria for us offering to help those in need, the sick, the poor, the despondent and the lost. No form of human altruism can be an adequate substitute for salvation.

Very often we are tempted to forget this important mission of ours – to preach the gospel of salvation and give glory to God in all matters. We are more concerned with what others think of us – we want to be crowd-pleasers. We are more concerned with what makes us happy – even if that happiness is only temporary – whether it is in the form of riches, popularity, power or convenience. If our life purpose is based on these factors rather than on the will of God, we will soon find ourselves disillusioned and tired. Only by living and doing things according to God’s will can we truly escape from drudgery.

Power vs Authority

 Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Our discussion these days often revolves around power - who has it and who doesn’t? The powerless often decry that the powerful have a monopoly over power which they do not hesitate to abuse and the powerful would often justify the exercise of such power for a greater good, i.e. they are doing it for the people. But discussions on power often leaves everyone dissatisfied. The powerful will always claim that they need more power, and those who claim to be powerless will always complain that they do not have enough power. The problem is confounded when we conflate power with authority – we often think they are one and the same thing.

A distinction is made between power and authority in today’s gospel. We see the unrestrained power of evil and the liberating authority of Christ. The unclean spirit’s power over this man had subjugated his mind and will. The man was no longer free. On the other hand, we witness the unique authority of Christ, an authority which is not based on imposing one’s will on the other, an authority which does not rely on the wisdom of others, an authority which does not seek to dominate, but one which liberates.

Let’s be honest, if authority was exercised by any other person other than our Lord, it would immediately trigger an adverse response from most of us. "Authority" is a word that makes most people think of law and order, command and control, dominance and submission. We focus over and over again on the oppressive side of authority. One tragedy of our time is that "authority" has become almost a dirty word in our society, while opposition to authority in schools, families, society and the church generally is cheered upon and seen as something fine. The reason for this is that we are unable to distinguish authority from power.

Scripture, by using two Greek words, makes a distinction between power and authority.  “Dunamis” is usually translated as “power,” from which we get our word ‘dynamite.’ “Dunamis” implies power, strength or even violence. In the New Testament, this is often associated with the ability to do miraculous things. Whereas, the Greek word “exousia” is usually translated as “authority” and suggests jurisdiction, right, and strength. Jesus indeed had dunamis, but more importantly He had exousia, the authority of the Son of God. And that very same authority has been entrusted to the apostles and to the Church. Without such God-given authority, the exercise of power would be ruinous. Instead of being a gift, power without authority can become a great source of temptation.

In today’s gospel, our Lord exhibits power in driving out a demonic spirit but more significantly His teaching was recognised by the people as one “with authority.” But they do not fully understand that authority. At this stage of the gospel, only the demon is able to recognise Him, for the power of evil knows its adversary, it knows that the time of its defeat and destruction has come. The demon understands that our Lord comes with the authority of God. The story reflects the great cosmic battle between the power of God and that of evil, where God is always triumphant. At the very same time, this story helps us understand how authority can also mean freedom and liberty. The authority of Christ is one which frees man from enslavement to sin and evil.

But not all exercise of power is liberating. When power is separated from authority, it descends into authoritarianism. Authoritarianism is authority corrupted, twisted. It is power without authority. It is the exercise of power without accountability. The unclean spirit had power over this man but it did not have the authority to be there. Its control over this man was an abomination in the eyes of God. Authoritarianism appears when the submission that is demanded cannot be justified in terms of truth or morality. Authoritarianism betrays an imperious mentality that thinks that one’s actions must always be without constraint. Authoritarianism often involves a greasy, sneaky and even manipulative abuse of power. But perhaps the most insidious distortion of authoritarianism is that it actually denies legitimate authority in order to hold that authority for oneself autonomously.

But true authority is sacrificial and giving. Such authority is a matter of service rather than one which lords over others. Our Lord demonstrated such authority in His ministry – He came to serve and not to be served. Secondly, true exercise of authority demands that we be accountable to another. Legitimate authority is needed to keep unbridled power in check. It is not meant to legitimise authoritarianism nor empower the ruthless.

Most people today would cite conscience as the licence to do whatever you will. Conscience, though it is the subjective moral seat of judgment, cannot unseat the objective source of moral authority which is God who communicates His will through Christ, through natural law, through reason and through the moral authority of the Church. When subjective conscience is raised to a level that supersedes all the others, when its primacy is declared above others, it does not liberate but enslaves or abandons us, making us totally dependent on personal taste or prevailing opinion. This is what Pope Emeritus Benedict called the “dictatorship of the subject.”

Today, modern man fails to recognise the irony of his predicament. He believes that the rejection of any external authority, especially in the area of moral authority, will guarantee his personal liberty and freedom. We live in a culture that is steeped in relativity, one that promotes the individual’s right to question all authority. In a world where there are no clear absolutes, everyone claims to speak with authority - dogmas are substituted for opinion, objective science is substituted by what is politically convenient, objective truth is substituted with subjective feelings (“I feel that this is the right thing to do” rather than “this is the right thing to do, even though I don’t feel like it”). Relativism is a form of enslavement – we are enslaved by our own thoughts and feelings, believing them to be the only valid truth that is worthy of submission to. But real freedom is only ever found under authority — God’s authority in Christ and that same authority now exercised by the Church. It is freedom not to do wrong, but to do right; not to break the moral law, but to keep it; not to forget God, but to cleave to Him every moment, in every endeavour and relationship; not to exploit others, but to lay down one’s life for them.

By rejecting authority, we are certainly not bringing about a correction of the abuse of power. On the contrary, those who abuse power do so precisely because they reject legitimate authority, they reject accountability. Aren’t tyrants observing this principle: “Rules for thee but not for me?” But if we recover the proper use of authority, an authority that is accountable to God, to His Christ and to the Church, then freedom is enhanced, power is channeled to its proper goal and the common good is served. True authority is motivated by love, it serves love and engenders love.

The Time is Now!

Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

People often wonder why I wear two watches, an anologue watch on my left wrist and a digital Fitbit watch on my right; one to keep time and the other, to keep track of the steps I’ve taken in a day, some silly comfort to assure myself that I’ve done some exercise. And of course, I’ve got my smart phone which I would readily whisk out if I wish to be more precise with the time. So back to the question: why do I need three time-keeping devices? Simple answer: I have poor time management. All these devices help keep me in check.

Time management is a skill some people excel in while others struggle to manage. I belong to the second category. You would think that with the plethora of apps and other tools to be more efficient, they would make us better at managing our time, but the truth is that time management is one of the biggest stressors in our culture. We work too many hours, we have too many distractions, and we're trying to squeeze in more work in less time. Procrastination is often the result of being so overwhelmed with tasks that we keep putting things off, only to find that we're now even more squeezed for time.

The ancient Greeks referred to the ticking of the clock as chronos time, from which we get "chronological" time. Matter of fact, if you go to a jewellery store to purchase an expensive watch, it is now often referred to as a chronograph, rather than a watch. It makes it sound more expensive.

However, Kairos is the brand of time most often mentioned in the New Testament. You won't find it on a watch. Instead, kairos refers more to a decisive time - the right time, the appropriate time, the opportune time, the decisive time. The writers of the New Testament seem to understand kairos in relation to the moment when God intervenes or is about to intervene in human history. And it is this time, Kairos time, which our Lord announces at the start of His public ministry. “The time has come ... and the kingdom of God is close at hand.”

The Kairos of God’s intervention intersects with our own Kairos moment. Encountering the Lord calls for an immediate decision, not just a proposal for our consideration. Our Lord does not say to us, “Take your time, I’m not in a hurry.” Every scene in the gospel of St Mark is filled with urgency and the various characters therein do not seem to dally or take their time to make a response. It’s interesting how Jonah, the reluctant prophet in the first reading, takes such a long time to accede to God’s call to deliver His message to the Ninevites, in contrast to the Ninevites immediate response to repent upon hearing the warning. I guess most of us are like Jonah rather than Peter, Andrew, James, John, Levi or even the Ninevites. We seem to take our time, put off the decision, find excuses and even attempt to run away from the inevitable before we come round to accept God’s invitation.

I guess I have a theory for this procrastination on our part, especially in spiritual matters. Most often, we don’t live with enough urgency. We live on the assumption that we have plenty of time. We live in a world of chronos and we don’t notice the kairos moments of God at work around us. But today, our Lord reminds us that “the time has come,” no more excuses, no more delays, no more attempts at worming out of this. So, how should we live and respond to this perpetually urgent Kairos moment:

The first point is to appreciate the urgency of our Lord’s call. Remember those immortal words of Benjamin Franklin, “Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do today.” It is now time to stop thinking, there is plenty of time for living. Life is short; you do not have the time as you think you do. Live, think, and act for today, for “tomorrow” may be too late. Live as if today is your last.

The second is that repentance should be a constant and daily affair. For those who think that going for confession once a year during one of the scheduled penitential services is already a big deal, think again. Seize the opportunity to repent, recognise its urgency because let’s be honest - no one is an immaculate saint. Even if you get pass the day without some major mortal sin, there is not a single day when some thought, some action, some speech, some decision would be tainted by sin or impure motives.

The third point is that we must make a response of faith which is to “believe the Good News.” But this is not just knowledge or observance of some paper doctrine. Faith, in the Christian context, is ultimately translated into discipleship, it is heeding the call of our Lord, “Follow me.”

The fourth would be to re-evaluate the priorities in our lives and place our Lord at the very top. Values shape our decisions. What makes you decide to take up a project immediately or delay it depends on the value you attach to it. If you have been putting off the call from the Lord because you seem to have other more urgent or important things on your plate, it is evidence of how little value you give to the Lord in your life. A simple rule is this: God first, others second, me last.

Finally, don’t wait for the “perfect” or “ideal” time to respond to God’s call. Notice that His call comes at any moment and in whatever situation you may find yourself in, and that moment is the “perfect time.” God flows into our existence when we least expect Him. Let us live with urgency…always anticipating those kairos moments when God shows up in the most unexpected ways.  And they can happen anytime! A friend calls you out of the blue. Your child disrupts your current preoccupation and calls you away to attend to her needs. A co-worker reaches out to ask for help. Your Parish Priest gives you a surprise call, asking for a favour. God is always surprising us with His perfect, kairos timing. Are you ready, waiting, and watching to make the correct response? There is no time to waste. The time is NOW!

God is speaking but are you listening?

Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

For those who complain that God isn’t speaking to them - and I’m not referring to the delusional types who hear voices inside their heads - this Sunday’s readings remind us that God is always speaking, but the real issue is this - are we really listening? God’s Word is contained in sacred scripture and sacred tradition. How many of us take the trouble to put aside some time every day to study it, to meditate upon it and to apply its message to our lives? And I don’t mean to shame you to take out your Bible or your Catechism and read a few paragraphs today. I will be happy if you could do it every day.

Since technology has given us more ways to communicate than ever before, social media which makes information (and disinformation) readily available, state-of-the-art equipment to amplify sound and to listen to our favourite music or podcast, there are very few excuses for us to be “disconnected” or “out of touch.” More often, if we don’t hear what someone is saying, it’s because we don’t want to hear it. It’s called selective hearing. Whether it’s ignoring emails, screening phone calls and texts, staring at the screens of our devices while someone else is talking, or simply putting headphones in and cutting ourselves off from the world – we all practice selective hearing, even when we know we shouldn’t.

And it’s not a new phenomenon – Israel, in Samuel’s time, had a severe case of hearing deficit. It wasn’t that God wasn’t speaking; they still had the Law given to Moses to provide them with guidance, but neither those tasked with preaching it nor those tasked with listening were doing their job. Take for example the sons of Eli, Hophni and Phineas, who were all anointed priests of the Lord. Instead of preaching and teaching God’s Word to the people of Israel – as they were called to do – his sons were notorious for stealing from the portion of sacrificial offerings offered to God and for sleeping with the women who served at the tabernacle. But the most egregious sin was their refusal to listen to anyone who tried to correct their sinful ways.

As a result of the obstinacy of the religious leadership, God decided to give them the silent treatment. Since Israel had stopped listening, so God stopped speaking. That’s what it means when it says, in those days the word of the Lord was rare; there were not many visions. God wanted to speak to His people, to lead them, discipline them, forgive them, comfort them but because they refused to listen to Him, God refused to speak. It was the worst judgment possible.

And so enters Samuel, who is apprenticing with Eli his mentor. God calls Samuel to replace these hopeless ministers who have stopped listening to His Word. There is only one simple criteria – he must be willing to LISTEN, put it into practice and communicate it faithfully.

We turn to the gospel as we see the Word Incarnate finally emerging and the various peoples responding to His Word by learning to listen. We have the Baptist’s disciples listening to their master as he identifies Jesus as the Lamb of God and then they decide to follow up with their own investigation. They heard and heeded our Lord’s invitation to “Come and See” and was transformed by that encounter. Now having heard and encountered the Word personally, and not just come to know of Him by hearsay, they began to share the Word with others. We see this ripple effect finally reaching Simon Peter. His brother Andrew comes and shares his experience and thereafter took Peter to meet the Lord. Peter’s name serves as an apt conclusion to this whole episode. Simon (Shimon) in Hebrew means hearing or listening. Though the name was a real name and not just a symbolic one, St John the Evangelist weaves it beautifully into his narrative to summarise the process and dynamics of discipleship - the disciple is one who listens and puts into practice what he has heard.

So, God continues to speak to us through His Word. And His Word is not just found in a book, but in a living breathing person, Our Lord Jesus Christ. We should have no excuse to not listen. And yet, we can find a load of excuses not to listen. I guess that busyness is easily the number one excuse for not hearing, not meditating, not praying, not taking time to study God’s Word. But busyness is just a cover for the real reasons. One common reason is pride. Pride that wants to say “Listen up, Lord, I’m speaking” rather than “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.”  Others don’t listen because they are angry with God, and so we choose to give Him the silent treatment. Or maybe our problem is just sheer laziness. Bibles, study guides, online formations – and more – are all easily accessible, but we’re just too lazy to make use of them.

 And yet, God in His grace, continues to speak. God is more persistent than we can ever imagine. He hasn’t taken His Word from our lives – in fact, just the opposite, He speaks to us in more places and ways than ever before. In spite of our selective listening, and in spite of our sinfulness, God continues to speak to us, for only one reason: Love. God is Love and He continues to love us in spite of our obstinacy. He speaks to us day after day, year after year, in order to break through our obstinacy. God never gives up even if we are hard of hearing. Remember Samuel?

God’s Word has the power to do what none of the other voices in the world can do: He transforms us so that we not only want to listen, but we are emboldened to obey. St Paul reminds the Corinthians in the second reading that after having heard the Word, they can no longer go back to their previous depraved lives. Living such a life might not always make sense. It won’t always be popular or be politically correct. But it is God’s Word – the only voice we can trust in this noisy world and which can set us on the right and straight path to holiness.

Finally, all this begs the question: What does it mean to listen to God?

The first step is to stop talking. It is amazing how God can speak to us when we shut up.

We can also listen to God intently through scripture.  There is a time for studying the Word to have a better grasp and understanding of the text. But the Word of God is also meant to be prayed. For centuries, the Word of God has been best explained and understood in the context of our Catholic liturgy. Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition are meant to go together because they both come from a common source. As much as we admire the Protestant’s proficiency in quoting scriptural texts, our Catholic exposition and appreciation of the bible cannot be done in isolation and apart from our liturgy, as our liturgy is deeply scriptural and our scripture is profoundly liturgical.

Finally, listening to God also requires patience.  Patience teaches us humility and docility - humility to recognise that God sets the pace, not us; and, docility to submit in obedience to the Word. The Latin root for the word “obedience”, “obedire”, simply means “to listen.” Ultimately, to truly listen to God’s Word demands obedience, as opposed to simply receiving information. For as the Apostle James reminds us: “you must DO what the Word tells you and not just listen to it and deceive yourselves.” (James 1:22) Listen! Do! Believe and Live!

Testimony of Water, Blood and Spirit

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

The scene of the Baptism of our Lord actually provides us with two testimonies about Christ. First, John makes a statement about the superiority of Jesus and His baptism: “Someone is following me, someone who is more powerful than I am, and I am not fit to kneel down and undo the strap of his sandals. I have baptised you with water, but he will baptise you with the Holy Spirit.” And then the gospel records the incident of the actual baptism climaxing with the Father’s voice, “You are my Son, the Beloved, my favour rests on you.” So, here we have the testimony of two witnesses - that of a human witness, St John the Baptist, and that of God the Father, which is far superior, but only heard by the Son. How do we understand the significance of these testimonies? Jewish law requires the testimony of two or three witnesses to support a charge against a person, especially when it involves a death penalty (e.g. Dt 17:5; Num 35:30).

With such irrefutable testimonies, it shouldn’t be too hard for the world to accept our Lord Jesus’s identity and mission. But this is not so. In an incredulous world, we need evidentiary proof and credible witnesses. To see is to believe. St John in the second reading, therefore argues that we have the corroboration of three witnesses- water, blood and Spirit. He wisely adds that “we accept the testimony of human witnesses, but God’s testimony is far greater.”

Let’s first consider the visible evidence of water. Water is necessary to become a Christian. We are immersed in the “living waters” of baptism and the gift of the Spirit is poured out upon us. At the Easter liturgies, all the baptised are reminded of their own baptism through the renewal of vows and the sprinkling of water. But what is the significance of water? Water quenches our thirst and is necessary for life. According to the prophet Isaiah in the first reading, it is freely given to those who seek it willingly. But water also destroys, as in the case of the Great Deluge during Noah’s time and the parted waves of the Red Sea which came down on Pharaoh and his army as they pursued the fleeing Israelites. But in both cases, what emerged from those destructive waters was new life; only sin and evil were destroyed. In the same way, sin is destroyed in the waters of baptism, and new life is restored to the newly born children of God.

But what about our Lord’s baptism? Remember that the Lord was sinless and therefore had no need to be washed by the waters of the river Jordan. What was the purpose of Him entering those waters? It was not Him who was purified, since He had no need of purification. St Gregory Nazianzen tells us that Christ “comes to bury sinful humanity in the waters. He comes to sanctify the Jordan for our sake and in readiness for us; He who is spirit and flesh comes to begin a new creation through the Spirit and water.” This is what we witness during the Easter Vigil liturgy, when the Paschal Candle, a symbol of Christ, is plunged into the baptismal fount to consecrate the waters which will be used for the sacrament of regeneration and rebirth. This water is the life-giving water which Christ promised to the Samaritan woman at the well and which He poured out from the cross. Recall that after our Lord dies, the soldiers came and one of them “thrust his lance into his side, and immediately blood and water flowed out.”

But water is not the only witness. There must be the corroborating testimony of blood too. When the lance pierced the side of our Lord, it was not only water which sprouted forth from the wound but also blood. We must not only bath in this life-giving water but also drink from the blood of Christ. One could speak of the two sacraments of baptism and the Eucharist, as a two-fold baptism - one with water and the second with His blood. Tertullian writes: “These two baptisms He sent out from the wound in His pierced side, in order that they who believed in His blood might be bathed with the water; they who had been bathed in the water might likewise drink the blood. This is the baptism which both stands in lieu of the fontal bathing when that has not been received, and restores it when lost.” That is why the Sacrament of Initiation is not only confined to the sacrament of baptism but necessarily includes the Eucharist.

But the Sacrament of Initiation still lacks a third component. Having received baptism and the Eucharist, one still needs the sacrament of Confirmation. That is why St John speaks of the Holy Spirit as the third witness. At the scene of the Baptism of the Lord, the Spirit comes down upon Him in the bodily form of a dove, witnessing to His Godhead. As a dove once came down to announce the end of the Flood during the time of Noah and inaugurate a new covenant where God promises to never destroy humanity again, the Holy Spirit now witnesses to the One who seals an everlasting covenant which promises salvation and eternal life. The Apostles are witnesses precisely because the Holy Spirit is at work in them, empowering them (Acts 1:8).

These three “witnesses” do not only testify that Jesus is the Son of God, but they also testify to the efficacy of the sacraments which provide us with the grace and power “to overcome the world.” One of the most tragic consequences of the Protestant rebellion is the disavowal of the Sacraments. Their suspicion of the sacraments eventually led to their demise. Gradually, each of the sacraments were rejected by the Reformers until baptism alone remained. But even this was not spared. Today, the baptism performed by many evangelical and Pentecostal Christians is merely an impotent symbol - a witness by men to men, not one which is witnessed by water, the Blood of Christ or even the Spirit. If one thinks that the waters of Baptism, the real presence of the Eucharist, the anointing of Confirmation are just impotent and empty symbols, it’s easy to see why the words of St John would make no sense to Protestants.

To be sure, there are symbolic baptisms in Scripture: the baptism of John the Baptist was one example. It was a symbolic act marking a person’s repentance. But apart from that, it could not confer new life, it could not fundamentally transform us, it had little effect on our future salvation. Only Christ could accomplish all those things and He did by instituting the sacraments and placing them in the hands of the Church. The Baptist could only baptise with water but only Christ could baptise with the Holy Spirit. Rather than impotent symbols, Scripture repeatedly points to the waters of Baptism, along with the Blood of Christ and the workings of the Holy Spirit, as being responsible for our interior transformation, leading us from death to life, and bringing us into a state of fidelity with Jesus Christ.

What is the purpose of us being baptised in water, drinking the Blood of Christ and being anointed by His Spirit? It is simple - it is to share in our Lord’s divine life and His very mission. In the words of St Gregory Nazianzen, “Christ is bathed in light; let us also be bathed in light. Christ is baptised; let us also go down with him, and rise with him.” When our Lord went down into the waters of the river Jordan, we who are baptised in Him can see His death prefigured. But as He arose from the waters, immediately the heavens opened and the Spirit descended, and in this, we see the glory of the resurrection prefigured, and not just His resurrection, but ours too. And as His baptism launched Him on His public ministry, we too receive our commission at our baptism, confirmation, and at the end of every Mass, to be witnesses of this truth, that Jesus is the Christ, Jesus is the Son of God, and His testimony which is God’s testimony, is far greater than any human witness.

A King to obey, A God to adore, A Saviour to die

Solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord

A week ago I posted a picture of our magnificent crèche in Jesus Caritas on Facebook. The meticulously detailed work of art done by our youth immediately attracted fawning admirers and many ‘Likes’. Someone noted in one close-up picture of the main characters, that the Magi had arrived too early. It wasn’t Epiphany yet, but already one of the three “kings” was strategically placed at the foot of the manger offering his gift of gold. Although, there may be issues of scriptural accuracy, I thought that our infant King, the Christ-Child would do well this year to have some early visitors since He has been deprived of His fan club this year since public Masses had been suspended for Christmas.

But the question of the appearance of these Magi coming too early in the story is moot today. Today, they appear in our gospel reading. But this is not their first appearance. In the first reading, in the prophecy of Isaiah, we see a teaser, a sort of prophetic trailer to this event of the Epiphany.

Isaiah predicted that at a time of darkness, the glory of the Lord will shine over Jerusalem. The heavenly light will be a beacon to the pagan nations and even to their kings. The prophecy of Isaiah may be one of the reasons why these Magi are often associated with kings. Despite the regular chastisement on the accuracy of this tradition from the pulpit (that there were an indeterminate number of wise men recorded in the gospel instead of the popular three kings), this has little effect on popular culture such as carols and Christmas pageant plays where children compete to be dressed in the splendorous costumes of these royal figures. As for the number of Magi which traditionally is set at three, no mention of their numbers can be found in St Matthew’s story. The three gifts which they bear may be the reason for concluding that there were three wise men or kings who visited the Christ-child.

Now that we’ve uncovered a possible reason for identifying the Magi with the three kings, it would be good to see the difference between Isaiah’s prophecy and the actual fulfilment of that prophecy in the visit of the Magi. It has to do with the number of gifts. On the matter of gifts, I often recall the gifts that were brought by the fairies to the christening of Sleeping Beauty. Each gift was a blessing save the penultimate one - the wicked and vengeful fairy who was not invited to the party, conferred on the child the gift of death. The last fairy, though she could not undo this curse entirely, blunted it by transforming the curse of death into a long sleep that could only be awakened with a prince’s kiss. Doesn’t that sound like the work of Christ in blunting the death blow through the gift of the resurrection?

I digress. Let’s come back to our story of the gifts in the readings. Isaiah only mentions two - gold and incense - but St Matthew mentions three - gold, frankincense (which is a type of incense) and myrrh. The omission of the third gift in Isaiah’s prophecy and its inclusion in St Matthew’s list, is telling. It serves as a clue and shows that a particular aspect was missing from the Jewish expectation of the Messiah based on the Old Testament but was made clearer in the revelation of the New Testament. And the third gift is crucial to our story.

The three gifts have often been described as symbols - gold for a king and incense for a deity. This child is indeed a King but more than a king, He is God Incarnate, thus deserving not just our adulation but also our adoration. But what about the myrrh, which is mentioned in the gospel but omitted in Isaiah’s prophecy –where does that come from and what does it mean?

Myrrh, an aromatic resin, was used in preparing the dead for burial. It was used to anoint corpses to mask the stench and also served to preserve the body from immediate decay. There we have it - the missing link that completes the prophecy of the future fate of this child. Gold reveals that the babe in the manger is actually a king; frankincense tells us that He is God Incarnate; but myrrh reveals to us that this King, who is in fact our God, has come to die.

That someone would redeem God’s people through suffering and death was never part of the Jewish expectation of their Messiah. They failed to make a connexion between their expectation of a triumphant and glorious Messiah, with the Suffering Servant spoken of by Isaiah a few chapters earlier (Isaiah 53). This was the really hard thing for those living in Jesus’ time to comprehend –that the same person who fulfilled all those prophecies about a glorious new king, also fulfilled the prophecies about a mysterious figure in Isaiah’s prophecy who must suffer at the hands of His tormentors and enemies.

It would be good if we just stuck to the first two gifts. Many would have little to no objections to accept this child as their king. It may be far more difficult to acknowledge His divine nature but we can still work that into our formulae. But perhaps the most challenging aspect of this revelation is that this King, our deathless God, should choose to die. All three gifts of the Magi, however, are necessary to complete the true revelation, the true epiphany of who this child is, and what He is destined to do. We must never lose sight of this; that He is at once our King, our God, and Saviour who dies for us, for if any one of these aspects of His identity is omitted, He ceases to be who He truly is, He will not be the Saviour that we would need.

So, here as we had just heard from the Proclamation of the date of Easter and Moveable Feasts, distant rumblings of the Paschal event: the passion, death and resurrection of our Lord. Here in the gifts presented by the Magi, especially in the last gift, we see the inseparable link between Christmas, Good Friday and Easter.

Tradition gives us the names of the Magi -Caspar, Balthasar, Melchior. But the fact that Matthew gives them no names is telling. They may be kings, but in this story they are merely supporting actors. They follow the true Star, the King of Kings. Only His name is important. The Feast of the Epiphany is not about the Magi–it’s all about Jesus. And just like the Bethlehem star, their very presence and gifts reveal to us who this Child is - He is our King whom we must obey and serve, He is Our Lord and God whom we must worship and finally, He is our Saviour who will die for us in expiation of our sins.

Venite Adoremus - Come let us adore Him.