In Truth, this man was the Son of God

Palm Sunday 2021

The Passion of Christ in the Gospel of St Mark does not begin with the familiar story of the Last Supper or with our Lord’s agony in the garden. It begins with the story of an unnamed woman, who is identified as Mary of Bethany in the Gospel of St John but here she remains anonymous, breaking a jar of expensive aromatic oil and pouring its contents over the head of our Lord. Whereas in St John’s account, Mary of Bethany pours the oil on the feet of our Lord and wipes it with her hair, this unnamed woman in St Mark’s version pours it over His head.

In Matthew’s, Mark’s and John’s account of this story, the onlookers are scandalised by this exorbitant act of wastage. To understand the magnitude of her act, we are told that the oil was worth “more than three hundred denarii,” the equivalent of an entire year’s wages in those days. I guess men and women would process this differently. Women would view this as proof of one’s love, no gift is ever too pricey. But the men’s reaction to the price tag couldn’t be any more different – it would be met by sheer incredulity, “what?!” For us modern folks, I suspect that we would have been more shocked by the audacity of a stranger pouring a jar of oil over the head of your guest of honour (like a pie in the face) than worry about the cost of the prank.

But our Lord did not take this as an insult but in fact, commends her action because He understood the true value of her sacrifice. We all know that the Lord Jesus is the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah. Both these titles, the former a Greek word and the latter Hebrew, literally translates as the “Anointed One,” and this woman’s action affirms this in one spectacular theological move. In the ancient Near East, the act of anointing signified selection for some special role or task. In the Old Testament, priests, prophets and kings were anointed with oil as a symbol of receiving their authority and appointment from God. It is ironic that our Lord should receive this anointing, not at the beginning of His ministry, but at the end of it. But there is no irony if we understand that the day of His crucifixion is also the day He ascends the throne of glory.

Yes, our Lord is anointed because He is the Messianic King, but this anointing is not just meant for His coronation and ascension to the throne. It is also meant to prepare Him for His burial as it was an ancient custom to anoint bodies with fragrant oils before they were embalmed and buried. In this act of the woman, we see both the coronation and the death of our King. Aren’t these the two foundational themes of today’s liturgy? A city welcomes their king on Sunday and the same crowd proceeds to crucify Him on Friday.

This anointing also tells us that our Lord is the fulfilment of the Old Testament rites and customs involving the Passover Lamb. This is the context. The Passover lamb was chosen six days before the sacrifice. On the first day, its feet and ankles were anointed with oil, as our Lord’s feet were in John 12:1–8. For five days, it would be inspected for flaws, as our Lord was when He taught and debated in the temple (Mark 11:15–12:40). Two days before the Passover, the lamb's head would be anointed, as our Lord’s head is, here. Our Lord is indeed the Paschal Lamb, “the Lamb who takes away the sins of the world.”

Why was this woman’s action so important that it would be immortalised in the centuries to come? Well, the answer is to be found in our Lord’s commendation of her action. She had affirmed what the disciples had failed to grasp or refused to accept - that the Anointed One, the new Passover Lamb, has to be killed before He can save His people.

Our Lord had been speaking of His impending death for a while, but the Twelve were having difficulty accepting this. When the Lord told Peter that “the Messiah must be rejected, suffer, and die; then he will be raised,” Peter responded with such an impassioned protest that our Lord had to rebuke him with “get behind me Satan!” In another instance, our Lord spoke ominously of His death, and the disciples responded by debating who will be the greatest in the coming kingdom. And in another episode, James and John missed the point entirely by responding to our Lord’s prediction with requests to sit at His right and left hand.

Clearly, the Twelve struggled to conceive of a kingdom that would begin with the death of the Messiah. How could a dead Messiah raise a glorious kingdom? While others would see the establishment of kingdoms by crushing one’s mortal enemies, and this was the expectation of the crowds who welcomed our Lord triumphantly into Jerusalem, our Lord’s victory would be secured in a very different and least expected manner - by Him humbly submitting to death. I suspect this is why they complained about the “waste” of money exhibited by the anointing. They imagined that their ministry with our Lord would continue for years to come. The money gained from selling this oil could be the initial capital in funding an insurrection. But instead of arguing this, they raise the issue of the poor. This is disingenuous. Those who have an issue giving the best to God, will also find difficulty in giving to the poor. The poor are merely cited here as an excuse for their stinginess and inability to sacrifice - sacrifice being the hallmark of discipleship.

And so this unnamed woman is pivotal to the story of Mark’s Passion narrative and she becomes the first of Christ’s disciples to acknowledge His impending death. If John the Baptist is the precursor of our Lord’s ministry, this woman is the precursor of His death. For this reason, our Lord praises her in unparalleled terms. “I tell you solemnly, wherever throughout all the world the Good News is proclaimed, what she has done will be told also, in remembrance of her.” What a remarkable thought— these last words spoken of her is also spoken and heard at every Eucharist, when the priest utters these words during the consecration, “do this in memory of me.” That at every Mass, this woman’s story should be on our lips, right along with Christ’s. 

As we enter Holy Week, accompanying our Lord as He enters Jerusalem, our journey eventually leads us to the foot of the cross. There can be no other detour. That is our destination because it was our Lord’s. Through the action of this woman, we realise that our Lord’s death was not accidental, He voluntarily embraces it knowing that His Father is in control. Some people are made for certain jobs, others made for each other in marriage but our Lord was sent and anointed for this - to die for us and for our salvation. And it would be at that very last moment when He breathes His last breath on the cross, we will come to recognise the truth proclaimed by the centurion, a truth which eluded His disciples just like how they were unable to accept His death, “in truth, this man was a son of God!”

 

We should like to see Jesus

 Fifth Sunday of Lent Year B

“We should like to see Jesus.” For the past few months, many Catholics had been longing and praying for this same request: “we should like to see Jesus,” not just virtually, on the screen of their television, computers or handheld devices, but to truly see our Lord in the flesh, in the tabernacle, in the church, as His body is placed on our palms or on our tongues.

So many would have sighed with relief, still others moved to tears, as they stepped into church last week. It is one thing to gaze lovingly at an image of a loved one in a picture, and an entirely different experience to meet him or her face to face. The former is just a pale shadow of the latter. But today, many would be shocked and troubled again the moment they stepped into church to behold the image of our Beloved Lord hidden behind a purple veil. Just when we had found Him after longing to see Him, His visage is hidden from our sight once again.

Coming into our churches with our crucifixes and holy images covered, evokes within us the emptiness of a world without Christ. This is not just a hypothetical scenario in a dystopian world that has forgotten God. We have experienced it most painfully in the past few months. With our churches and chapels closed, it does seem as if Christ has abandoned us to our misery and predicament. 

But it is also in the midst of such visible absence of our Lord’s presence that we come to recognise how wrong we have been. The world has always needed Jesus Christ and always will, although we have often taken that for granted. It is only when the Lord had been taken away from us, when our churches and chapels were closed, that we came to realise how much we really missed Him. In a paradoxical way, His absence helped us to appreciate His presence.

This is what our Lord did when He went to the cross. His death is an embodiment of the words He utters in today’s gospel: “unless a wheat grain falls on the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest.” By mounting the wood of the Cross that first Good Friday, He opened the gates of heaven and the doorway of salvation to all peoples.  He united God and humanity, and humanity with each other.  On the Cross He gave every last drop of Himself as blood and water flowed from His pierced side, the same blood and water types for the Sacraments that His Mystical Body (the Church) offers for Salvation, Baptism and the Eucharist.  Because of His death, our Lord had removed the mourning veil, and tore the veil which hid the mystery of God from man’s gaze. It is ironic that the veil of our crosses reveal more than they hide. They expose the folly of our ambitions and spotlight the wisdom of God’s plan. Hidden now from our sight, the veils are a reminder that we see God clearest of all when we see Him hanging from the cross.

Just as months of fasting from sacramental communion had heightened our hunger and thirst for the Lord and for communion with Him, the fasting of our senses through this veiling of His image should deepen our longing and love for the Lord. We are confident that our hunger will be sated, our prayers will be answered, our longing will be satisfied on Good Friday when the cross will be unveiled and we will get to behold the beauty of our Lord once again. The Cross is the lens through which we are called to see Him, the world and each other; the Cross gives us our perspective and opens our eyes to reality as God sees it. From the cross we will see an end to sin and division: “And when I am lifted up from the earth, I shall draw all men to myself!”

Christ looks lovingly at us through pained eyes on the Cross, eyes now hidden from our sight, dare we look back at him? What is His response if we do? Judgement? Condemnation? …. No …. I can tell you with certainty that when He is looking back at you from behind the veil, it is a look of love, mercy and longing … longing that we love more perfectly in our lives by living life through the lens of the Cross. As we echo the words of the Greeks who came in search of Him in today’s gospel, “we should like to see Jesus,” He reveals to us that the only way that we are going to see Him, is to do what He tells us to do: “Anyone who loves his life loses it; anyone who hates his life in this world will keep it for the eternal life.” Like Him, we must become that wheat of grain that falls on the ground and dies in order to yield the rich harvest of eternal life.

Mercy covers Justice

Fourth Sunday of Lent Year B

The readings for this Sunday help us to reconcile two aspects of God’s nature - He is a God of mercy who wants to save us and He is also a God of Justice who will hold us accountable for our deeds. On the face of it, these two aspects of God may seem to be on diametrically opposite ends of a spectrum. When you show mercy, are you not excusing someone from the dictates of justice, and when you demand justice, are you not withholding mercy?

Scripture reminds us that God is rich in mercy (Eph 2: 4). Modern man has no issue with this. This is the preferred face of God. Who would like a harsh and demanding parent, what more a God who metes out justice without batting an eye? But what is mercy? Just like many other terms and concepts, the concept of mercy has often suffered distortion under the hands of those who live under the woke banner of “diversity, equity and inclusion.” Mercy has become another synonym of these fundamental values of modern society.

But true mercy is the face of God’s love turned toward sinners, searching them out, and offering them pardon and salvation. This is what the Lord declares in the gospel, perhaps one of the most quoted verses of the bible, “God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life. For God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.” That’s it - the ultimate goal of mercy is our salvation.

When we reflect on mercy the question naturally arises about the relationship of mercy to justice. God is not merciful at the expense of His justice. Mercy does not exclude His justice, nor is it opposed to it. God’s justice entails that He takes sin seriously. God does not gloss over sin nor does He pull blinkers over His own eyes pretending as if sin does not exist. And because God takes sin seriously, He is willing to pay the greatest price in order to be rid of it - He sent His only Son to save us by dying for us. Jesus Christ’s finished work is the full and sufficient cause of our salvation. He has undergone the cross because of our sins, redeeming us from them, healing us from the deep wound of original sin and its effects and reconciling us to the Father. So, when we ignore the gravity of sin in the name of false mercy, we are actually diminishing and trivialising what our Lord did for us on the cross. When God’s justice is obscured, His mercy is reduced to something insignificant.

The gospel wishes to highlight that although the Father has given the Son the authority to judge the world, the Son has chosen not to do so. Rather, people are judged by their own reaction to the Son. Throughout the gospel of St John, we encounter individuals who are judged by their peers and society but as they come to the Lord, they receive no judgment. Instead, if they are judged, it is because of their response to the light of truth which our Lord brings. They are either drawn to the light and are transformed and saved, or they shun the light and condemn themselves to remain in the darkness. In other words, if hell does exist, and it does, it is not part of God’s creation or sentence. Hell is the product of man’s free choice- his choice to reject the light, to reject God and the One whom God had sent into the world to save us.

It is clear that justice and mercy are not opposites because both have their origin in God’s holy love. These two, says Saint John Paul II, “spring completely from love: from the love of the Father and of the Son, and completely bears fruit in love”. Pope Francis explains that “[justice and mercy] are not two contradictory realities, but two dimensions of a single reality that unfolds progressively until it culminates in the fullness of love” (Misericordiae Vultus §20).

In sum, the cross takes our sins away because it is the act of God’s gracious judgment on Christ for our benefit. In layman’s language, Christ takes the fall for us, He takes the punch for us. “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Cor 5:21). Why would He do that? The answer is simple: He loves us.  “Yes, God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life.” (Jn 3:16)

Today, we encounter the God of Mercy and Justice in the sacrament of penance - in confession. Many people are afraid to confess their sins to a priest for fear of judgment. Others believe that God is so merciful that He would not demand that we subject ourselves to such awkwardness and humiliation by exposing our most sordid secrets to a priest. And yet, we see the truth of what takes place in this sacrament. We are invited to come before the fountain of love, for both mercy and justice springs forth from the same source. We must take our sins seriously, as seriously as our Lord did by dying on the cross to atone for our sins. We must also be confident that the Lord will embrace us in mercy, if we come before Him with penitent hearts. For the sacrament of penance is a rehearsal of the Final Judgment. To the unrepentant sinner, there is reason to be afraid as he will be condemned by his sins. But to the repentant sinner, he should stand before God’s judgment without fear, because “there is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love” (1 Jn 4:17-18).

Scripture does not reveal a God of justice in opposition to a God of mercy. Instead, Scripture discloses a just and long-suffering God, who intervenes in history to mercifully restore our dignity defaced by sin, precisely by leading us towards a renewed righteousness and justice. At the end, mercy triumphs over judgment. I enjoy teaching servers and little children that when they clasp their hands in prayer, with the right thumb (which symbolises mercy) placed over the left thumb (which symbolises justice) in the shape of a cross, it signifies this eternal truth – at the end and on the cross, mercy covers over justice.

Christ, the Power of God

Third Sunday of Lent Year B

It is perhaps fair to say that most Christians do not quite realise the outrageous character of the most basic and taken-for-granted hallmarks of Christianity. Some may attribute this to years of Catholic “indoctrination” and “normalisation” of such outlandish ideas such as – that the All-powerful invisible God, a purely spiritual Being, should be en-fleshed and take on the form of a weak vulnerable baby; that this God-man would eventually die a scandalous and horrific death; that the very symbol which we Christians revere as the sign of salvation should be an ancient instrument of torture, humiliation and execution. It is no wonder why Christianity is negatively viewed by modern folks in terms of the many claims it makes.

But such opposition is nothing new. It had existed from the very beginning of nascent Christianity and even during the time of Christ Himself. Both the second reading and the gospel shows us instances where the claims of Christians and that of Christ are considered so outrageous that the very growth of Christianity should have been regarded as divinely inspired and a miracle in itself. St Paul in the second reading explains the nature of this opposition, which seems to be universal: “the Jews demand miracles and the Greeks look for wisdom.” And so, the crucified Christ which Christians are preaching would meet opposition from both groups - “to the Jews an obstacle they cannot get over, and to the pagans madness.”

But St Paul proceeds to argue that both these objections are untenable and unreasonable. If you suppose that the Jews required a sign, that sign is given: the miracles that Christ wrought upon earth were signs more than sufficiently abundant; and if the Jewish people had but the will to believe, they would have found abundant signs and reasons for believing in Christ and His apostles. And as for the Greeks who prided themselves over their sophisticated intellectual and philosophical tradition, if they would only humbly and honestly seek to investigate further, they would discover a profoundness of wisdom—a depth where the most gigantic intellect might be drowned. It is no shallow gospel, but a deep truth which we preach, for Christ is the Wisdom of God, and His gospel is the highest of all sciences. If you wish to find wisdom, you must find it in the word of revelation, for what loftier wisdom can there be but the wisdom of God Himself?

We can, therefore, understand why the Jews in the gospel demanded a sign from the Lord to authenticate His authority in having wrecked the foundation of the sacrifice system of the Temple. To a modern reader, this may seem to be a strange request as most people would think that the Lord is attacking the commercialisation of religion, for did He not say, “stop turning my Father’s House into a market”? We often think that the pedlars who were selling animals and the money changers are the ancient equivalent of those religious article pedlars who push their goods to parishioners after Mass. In truth, these “business” people actually formed the foundation of the sacrifice system in the Temple. They provided the animals which were meant for the sacrifice, the basis of Temple worship, and the money changers exchanged the civil currency which was considered unclean and idolatrous, for the kosher Temple currency.

So, the action of our Lord was not the result of outrage, targeting the commercial elements that had invaded the Temple but it was targeting the entire Temple institution itself. You see, if there are no sacrificial offerings, there is no need for the Temple because the Temple exists to make those offerings. On the one hand, the Lord’s actions were prophetic - it pointed to the destruction of the Temple in 70 AD. On the other hand, the Lord was announcing that such Temple worship was obsolete because He was the new Temple, He would be the nexus between man and God, in Him God and man meets and unites, and He would render the ultimate perfect sacrifice which would abolish the need for any other sacrifices - the sacrifice of His own life on the cross. From the time of Christ’s death and resurrection, a new temple made from the Body of Christ was established for all nations. All who wanted a sign to locate the Creator’s presence, learn His wisdom, and enjoy His forgiveness can do so simply by embracing the Messiah, “Christ who is the power of God.”

All that the temple had meant for Israel for almost one thousand years, was now to be found in Israel’s Messiah. The presence of God which human beings so longed for was to be found through a personal connexion with Christ, not in a building in East Jerusalem. The hunger for Wisdom that would inspire could be satisfied, not in the courts of a glorious sanctuary, but by feeding on the words of Jesus. True “pilgrims” could henceforth declare their praises, not within the walls of one sacred building, but wherever people gathered in honour of the Messiah. And forgiveness of sins could be enjoyed through the one priestly sacrifice of Jesus, not through the ineffective sacrifices of animals. To the Jews, this may be an obstacle they cannot get over, to the pagans madness, to the modern man a mere fairy tale, but for us Christians, “Christ is the power of God.” He is the Sign by which we know we are saved, the Wisdom by which we come to know God, and the Temple by which we can worship Him.

The Pinnacle of All Sacrifices

 Second Sunday of Lent Year B

The theme of sacrifice lies at the very heart of salvation history. One could, of course, summarise salvation history as the greatest love story ever told. But there can be no true love without sacrifice. There can be no true sacrifice if we cannot part with what we most love in life. From the start of this amazing story, we see God sacrificing His absolute sovereignty by granting to man the divine spark - his free will - the ability to reject God’s will and offer of love. Man lost everything (or almost everything) that had been given to him because he refused to sacrifice the one thing which God had given to him - his will in humble obedience. He had the freedom to submit to God and the freedom to disobey Him, and man chose the latter.

In a primordial age of innocence, when the taking of life whether by humans or animals (who were both vegans) was prohibited, God sacrificed the life of an animal to clothe both Adam and Eve. One could say that in this act, we do not just see a concern for the modesty of the first couple, but a sacrifice, albeit imperfect one, to redress the loss of innocence and immortality due to man’s sin. In this act, we can hear the distant rumblings of the perfect storm that will come when God sacrifices His only begotten Son to redress man’s sin. Subsequently, the tragedy of life taking, not as sacrifice, but done out of selfishness and envy continues in the killing of Abel by Cain. The sacrifice of Cain was rejected by God whereas Abel’s gift was accepted because Cain was unable to sacrifice his best to God whereas Abel could.

In the first reading, we see Abraham being told to sacrifice his first born son which was a gift from God. Isaac was Abraham’s last hope of ensuring that his legacy would not be forgotten. There is absolutely nothing more precious to Abraham than his son. Indeed, to give up his son would be to give up himself. And yet, this is what God had required of him and Abraham, though heartbroken, had willingly offered to sacrifice his son. But at the very last moment, God provides a substitute for his child. Isaac’s life is spared and the ram takes his place.

This is the true nature of a sacrifice to God. God deserves everything because He has given us everything. So ancient peoples instinctively knew that authentic sacrifice could never be just a casual nod to God. The sacrifice owed to the Creator had to be big and precious enough to represent our entire lives. And it is here that we find the true meaning of sacrifice. It is not what we can offer to God that can constitute the perfect sacrifice pleasing to Him because whatever we possess is already God’s gift to us. The truth is that we can offer nothing to God of ourselves that would be “big” enough. But the pinnacle of all sacrifices is what God had offered to us. He offered to us His only begotten Son.

That is why St Paul writes in the second reading, “Since God did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up to benefit us all, we may be certain, after such a gift, that He will not refuse anything He can give.”

The compelling image of Isaac carrying the wood of the sacrifice up the slope of Mt. Moriah in the first reading should tip us off that this story points beyond itself to a future sacrifice beyond all comprehension. The ram caught in the thicket is not the true substitute, and the true sacrifice does not take place upon Moriah. It is the Lamb, not the ram, God’s Son, not Abraham’s son, who will be the ultimate offering. Like Isaac, Jesus carried the wood of the sacrifice up the slope of Mt. Calvary. But unlike Isaac, Jesus did so freely, knowing what that sacrifice would cost Him. And His sacrifice accomplishes what no animal sacrifice possibly could – the eternal salvation of all willing to accept this free gift of love.

Actually, this is what the whole story is about. From Genesis to Revelation, the theme is the astonishing love of God. The love of the Father for His Incarnate Word: “This is my Son, my Beloved” (Mark 9:7). The love of the Father who sacrifices that beloved Son for us (John 3:16). The love of the Son who leaves behind the glory of heaven and the brilliant cloud of Mt. Tabor for the agony of Calvary. Though it is we who owe everything to God, it is He who sacrifices everything for us. Our love for Him can only be a faint echo of His generous and unstoppable love for us.

This, therefore, is the true meaning of Lenten sacrifice. We renew and deepen our dedication to Him, and express that by sacrificing something meaningful to us. We should give Him not just our spare change, our left overs, our discarded possessions or our half-hearted commitments. He deserves so much more for what He has given us. He deserves our all. We can give Him our all by heeding the Father’s call in today’s gospel. Notice that God did not just demand from us something so trivial as giving up chocolates or Netflix or our favourite computer game. But, after identifying Jesus as His beloved Son, He did give us a very clear command. He said “listen to Him!” This is where Adam and Eve failed. They failed to listen to God’s command, to not eat of the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil. They listened, instead, to their own pride and to the serpent’s lies, and the rest is history.

It is so simple and yet perhaps one of the most difficult things to do: to listen to Him, to the One who is the Beloved Son of God. And this is what we must do. This is what we hear at every Mass because the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is the bloody sacrifice on the cross at Calvary transfigured.

Pope Francis in one of his Wednesday audience catechesis speaks of the sacrifice of the Mass in this fashion: “This is the Mass: entering into this passion, death, resurrection and ascension of Jesus; when we go to Mass it is as if we were to go to Calvary, the same. But think: if we at the moment of Mass go to Calvary – let us think, using our imagination – we know that the man there is Jesus. But, do we permit ourselves to chatter, to take photographs, to treat it a little like a show? No! Because there is Jesus! We would certainly stay in silence, in tears and in the joy of being saved. When we enter in Church to celebrate Mass, let us think this: I enter Calvary, where Jesus gave His life for me. And in this way the spectacle disappears, the chatter disappears, the comments and these things which distance us from that beautiful thing that is the Mass, the triumph of Jesus.” At every Mass, we witness the greatest sacrifice of all - Jesus sacrifices His life on the cross and we hear the words of the Father at the transfiguration once again: “This is my Son, the Beloved. Listen to Him.”

Season of death and rebirth

First Sunday of Lent Year B

Climate change proponents are painting a scenario that is not too different from the Deluge that destroyed (or almost destroyed) the world and all its inhabitants during the time of Noah. Global warming, according to the “science,” will result in accelerated melting of polar caps and which in turn would lead to coastal towns (where half the world’s population lives) and islands in the middle of the oceans being swallowed up by sea water in another decade. Remember the apocalyptic movie 2012. Now, I know that what I am going to say next may result in me being labelled as a looney climate change denier that ought to be locked up for the good of humanity, but I’m going to say it anyway. Didn’t God just promise Noah in the first reading that “the waters shall never again be a flood to destroy all things of flesh”? Now, if you refuse to take God at His word, would that make you a bible denier?

Well, on this First Sunday of Lent, I do not intend to lead you down a rabbit hole of deciding whether to believe in scientific truths or biblical truths. We have far greater concerns. We would need to reconcile the first and second reading which speaks of the flood waters encountered by Noah with the bone-dry wilderness described in the gospel, the scene of our Lord’s temptation. What more, Saint Mark’s version of the temptation story lacks the depth and content of the other two versions found in the gospels of Saint Matthew and Saint Luke. What the other two accounts spell out in 11-13 verses is succinctly summarised in two verses in today’s gospel. “The Spirit drove Jesus out into the wilderness and he remained there for forty days, and was tempted by Satan. He was with the wild beasts, and the angels looked after him.”

There doesn’t seem to be any correlation between these two themes - flood and desert - except for the period of the ordeal which both Noah and our Lord had to endure - forty days (and forty nights). Who could forget that Israel had to endure forty years in the wilderness after her escape from Egypt and before she was allowed to enter the Promised Land. But the Old Testament is punctuated with numerous stories which mention 40 days including the following:

1.     It rained 40 days and nights before the water covered the earth during Noah’s time;

2.     Moses was on the mountain with God for 40 days and nights;

3.     The scouts of Israel explored the Promised Land for 40 days;

4.     Goliath challenged the Israelites to a fight each day for 40 days;

5.     The meal delivered by an angel sustained Elijah for 40 days in the desert;

6.     Ezekiel bears the punishment of Israel for 40 days;

7.     God postpones the destruction of Nineveh by 40 days, giving the city time to repent.

Each of the above certainly marks a new era in salvation history. It is the bridge between an old way of life which is passing, and a new one which is dawning. So, forty is a number of punishment and repentance, testing and resting, and, above all else, absolute dependence on God. Whenever God wants to do something significant, He does it in 40 days (or years). Forty is associated with almost each new development in the history of God’s mighty acts, especially of salvation.

The biblical symbolism of 40 has an intriguing analogy in the natural world. Forty weeks is the traditional number of weeks for a pregnancy. I know that if you do the math - 9 times 30 divided by 7 is 38.57142 weeks. But putting aside medical science and precision of mathematical calculations, pregnancy is indeed an apt model for the biblical periods above. It begins with the intensity of the moment of conception, is followed by a time marked by both pain and joyful anticipation, and then, only after this period of postponement, is there the birth of someone new. It is most fitting then that the new era of salvation began with a pregnancy: Mary’s The Church also uses the image of pregnancy and the birth of a baby to describe the first sacrament, the doorway to salvation - baptism. Interestingly and incidentally, the 40-day Genesis flood also prefigures baptism.

And then, we have the 40 days of Lent. The connexions among faithful endurance, spiritual renewal, and baptism in particular are driven home for us each Lent, at the end of which we are called to renew our baptismal vows. In this way, we participate in Christ’s own desert experience, which ended with His own baptism.

This season of Lent beckons us to embark on our own 40-day exodus. It’s not going to get easier as temptations often appear sweeter when it is denied. But as much as the tempter seems to have his way with us, as he did with our Lord, know that the One who truly has power over us and can guide us is the Holy Spirit. For as the Holy Spirit led our Lord into the wilderness for forty days, it is the same spirit who will lead us into the Spirit-filled wilderness of Lent. As you can see, scripture equips us with many models for this spiritual sojourn. Whether it’s to weather our own floods, patiently wait for God’s answer to our prayers, survive the desert of our human experience, slay our own Goliaths, undergo repentance and transformation, Lent is the time for spiritual action and passion—knowing ultimately that it is the Holy Spirit who leads us and our Lord who journeys with us, who acts within us, and suffers for us and with us. Don’t just take my word for it. Trust the “science,” the theological science of the Bible.

Penance and Redemption

 Ash Wednesday

Everything about today’s liturgy screams of “penance,” from the ashes which you would be imposing on each other, to the readings which speak of the penitential practices of fasting, almsgiving and prayer. The entire liturgy is so penitential that the Church omits the penitential rite at the beginning of today’s Mass. I guess to a non-Catholic observer, our Catholic “obsession” with penance seems morbidly strange. Why would anyone relish the thought of denying yourself something pleasurable and make a celebration of it?   

Penance comes from a Latin word, ‘paenitentia’ which derives from a Latin noun, meaning repentance, and ultimately derives from the Greek noun ποινή (poine). The original Greek word seems more austere than the Latin and English. It’s practically “blood money” – the price you pay as compensation for taking the life of another. For the uninitiated, mortification and penances in the Catholic context do not involve any form of blood-letting. Thank God for that. You do not have to cut your wrist or mutilate yourself or even pay an exorbitant price as compensation for the harm that you have done to another. But someone had to pay the price and someone did. Someone was mutilated for our crime. Someone had to exchange His life for ours, He took the punishment which was our due, He died so that we might live. You know who it is – it’s Jesus Christ. Because of what the Lord did for us, the word “penance” now takes on a broader meaning – it now involves “recompense, reward, redemption, or release.”

Penances have varied extraordinarily over time.  In the early Church, a ‘penitent’ would have to go through several years of public penance before absolution, and it was usual for this to be a once in a life-time event.   Gradually, by way of Irish monastic practices and the invention of the confessional box, this evolved into the modern way of celebrating the sacrament where absolution is given (usually) before the penance is performed, and where penances have been reduced to the perfunctory ‘say one Our Father and one Hail Mary.’

But today, Holy Mother Church in her wisdom demands very little in the ministry of the sacrament of penance:   contrition, confession, and satisfaction – we are to be sorry for our sins, truly to confess them, and to make satisfaction for them.  It is in the third element, making satisfaction, that the whole notion of penance is seen in a concrete way.   

So, what is penance about?  I think that we are called to one way of penance and tempted to do another.  There is a dangerous tendency, like the Greeks, to see penance as the paying off of sin by suffering in the face of an angry God.  But this is contrary to our Christian faith.  God is not so petulant that He would sulk like a little child until we succeed in appeasing Him with our penances.  Another dangerous view of penances is to imagine that penance is an outmoded concept, that we are not expected to make any effort to put things right, since our Lord Jesus has already done it all for us.  But both these views of penance are both inaccurate and dangerous. They reduce penances to performative acts – either playing to the crowd or to God.

Today’s readings recover the correct view of penances. Penances are the means by which we right our relations both individually and collectively with God, our neighbour and ourselves.  It is seen as the antidote or cure to the three-fold wreck of sin. This three-fold movement is a theme that is revisited again and again in the scripture.  We see a disintegration of man’s personal integrity, his relationship with others and with God, at the Fall. This same movement appears again in our Lord’s three-fold temptation – to worship Satan instead of God, to seek approval instead of basing one’s relationship on truth, to prefer material comfort to one’s spiritual good. In our Lord’s public ministry, the temptations come again and again – He hungers and thirsts, though He is able to make food out of nothing; the people wish to make Him King, and He evades them; the demons proclaim Him as the Holy One of God, and He silences them. This three-fold patterning continues in the Passion: in the agony in the Garden, in the trial before His accusers, in the three-fold denial of Saint Peter, in falling three times according to tradition, and from the cross He rejects the sedation of the wine (material comfort), the physical comfort of passers-by and finally, even experiences the desolation of being forsaken by God.

What does this mean for us?  It means that the temptations that assail us on a daily basis are also the means by which God uses to strengthen us. Therefore, the penitential practices which we undertake are not to appease a God who has distanced Himself from our trials and sufferings. We can never accuse God of this because of what our Lord Jesus had to endure. Rather, our penitential practices are meant to unite us with our Lord who redeemed our pains and sufferings through His own. Fasting, Almsgiving and prayer are the three means by which we conform ourselves to this three-fold patterning – By fasting we reject bodily comfort, by almsgiving we turn away from temporal power and the need to please the crowds, and by prayer we acknowledge the primacy of God.  But in order to do this we should first earnestly seek the assistance of the sacrament of penance, confession, lest our spiritual exercise be subverted by pride. Penitential acts, when done without true humility and repentance, will ultimately become performative. And when our acts become performative, God is not honoured, only man.

The goal of Christian penitence is not to pay the ransom, our Lord has already done that. The purpose of our penitence is to participate in the joy of the redeemed, as returning prodigal sons and daughters to receive the cloak and ring and banquet from the One by Whose stripes we have been healed. Through our penances, done with humility and love, we regain what we have lost, we receive healing for what is wounded, we restore what has been damaged by sin. As we begin this Holy Season of Penance, let us be assured of the abundant graces of mercy which our Lord has poured out and continues to pour on us from the cross.