Saturday, November 13, 2021

Death will be replaced with life

Thirty Third Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B


Apocalyptic texts, such as what we’ve just heard in the gospel and the first reading, can be fodder for much fanciful speculation regarding the end times. Even though apocalyptic writings often end in an assuring promise of hope, the triumph of God and the vindication of the righteous who remain faithful in spite of tribulations, it is more common to find people focusing on the frightening cataclysmic images associated with the end times, whilst ignoring the second part.

And then there is the issue of interpretation of these mysteriously cryptic texts. Our Lord seems to contradict Himself in the second half of the gospel passage. On the one hand, He seems to argue that the end times would be discernible from the cataclysmic signs and He likens this to how one can discern the seasons by looking at the life cycle of a fig tree. On the other hand, He is telling His disciples that any speculation on when the end times is going to take place would be futile: “But as for that day or hour, nobody knows it, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son; no one but the Father.” How do we reconcile both these sayings? Well, it depends on what the Lord meant by end times.

On the one level, the end times which our Lord is speaking about will take place in the first generation of the Church. Our Lord is referring to the fall of the Temple in Jerusalem. For the Jews, the Temple was a microcosm of the universe as seen in the constellations and heavenly bodies embroidered on the Temple veil and the light of the sun, the moon and the five known planets are symbolised by the seven lights of the menorah candle stand. The words of our Lord are fulfilled, both at His death when the sun was darkened and the Temple veil was torn into two, and also in the year 70 AD when the Temple was destroyed by the Romans who invaded Judea to quell a local rebellion. If we take this understanding of the end times, then our Lord was speaking the truth when He said, “I tell you solemnly, before this generation has passed away all these things will have taken place.”

But the intentional ambivalence of the words of our Lord could be pointing to another time - to a distant unknown future - to the end of the world. The chaos described here is an undoing of God’s work of creation. Whether His words were pointing to the past or to a future event, the various levels of meaning are not meant to be contradictory but closely interconnected. The end-time tribulations begin in our Lord’s own passion and the subsequent destruction of the Temple, which signal the end of the age of the old covenant and ultimately, the end of the universe that will follow the final upheavals at the close of history. So, the end times does not solely refer to some indeterminate event in the future but to an event that has already occurred and which is in the process of reaching its final conclusion. If you are looking to uncover the secrets of the end times, look no further - We are living in the end times! We have been living the end times for the past 2000 years!

It is one thing to know that our Lord’s prophecy had been fulfilled in events of the past - His passion and the Temple’s destruction - but what about the future? How would we know that the final outcome of all the turbulence and chaos will end in our Lord’s victory and the salvation of His followers? We can. The veracity of our Lord’s prediction is supported both by what we have witnessed in the past as a fulfilment of His prophetic words but it is also backed up by this claim: “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.”

Accepting that the Lord’s words, His promises is eternally true, that He will never renege on them, is no great issue here. But what does He mean by saying that “heaven and earth will pass away”? What could He mean that “heaven,” which everyone knows is supposed to be eternal, will also pass away? If we want to get an answer, we must certainly look to the last book of the Bible – the Apocalypse.

But before we look at how things will end, we would have to look at how it began. The Book of Genesis paints a picture of how heaven is wedded to earth in the earthly Paradise of Eden, where man dwelt in harmony with God and the whole of creation. This is the old “heaven and earth.” But because of man’s sin, this earthly paradise has passed away, the earth is cut off from the full life of heaven. Throughout history, man has attempted to restore this earthly paradise but have repeatedly failed because only God alone can heal the rift. And He has done so through His only begotten Son, “for God was pleased to have all his fullness dwell in Him, and through Him to reconcile to Himself all things, whether things on earth or things in heaven, by making peace through His blood, shed on the cross” (Col 1:19-20)

And the new creation is here, taking a form which we least expect, Jesus Christ. He is both the author and the fulfilment of the new earth and new heaven. In the last book of the Bible, the Apocalypse, we are granted a vision of how the story of salvation ends - with the emergence of a “new heaven and a new earth.” St John using symbolic language, speaks of how a river which flows from the throne of God and of the Lamb, will water and nourish this new garden-like paradise. It's an all-new Garden of Eden, where the tree of life (and not just a fig tree) is made accessible to man again. It is not a 'return back' to the garden; it's a step forward into a new Jerusalem, a great city representing the marriage of heaven and earth. In this city, there is no need for a Temple because God dwells among His people and the Lamb will be the Temple.

Although, we struggle with our present trials and endure the suffering that comes with a chaotic world caused by our sinfulness, we must always hold firm to the hope of the story of the Bible: God’s domain and our domain will one day be completely united. All things will be made new. “The learned will shine as brightly as the vault of heaven, and those who have instructed many in virtue, as bright as stars for all eternity.” Death will be replaced with life. The whole earth will be a recreation of the garden, and the glory of the temple will cover the whole earth. Every nation will be blessed through the power of the resurrected Jesus, and God’s own personal presence will permeate every square inch of the new creation. We can be certain of this promise because though the old heaven and earth may pass away, but our Lord’s words will never pass away because He always keeps His promises.

Thursday, November 4, 2021

Giving till it hurts

Thirty Second Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B


Today we are given two examples of remarkable generosity - the sort that really hurts. We have one story in the first reading where God commanded a widow to give her last bit of food to a prophet, and another story in the gospel, where Our Lord after having rebuked the teachers of the law for devouring widows’ houses, points to a widow’s giving at the Temple as exemplary. In both cases, these two women risked starvation and losing their entire livelihood in giving and sharing - one for a stranger whom she treated as an intimate neighbour and another to God.

In a way, both these women epitomise the two-fold commandment of love which we heard last Sunday. In fact, some ancient commentators have seen the two mites offered by the widow in the gospel as a symbol of the two-fold Great Commandment of love.

But both these stories are not just amazing stories meant to inspire us to be more generous and to give more, and I can assure you that I have absolutely no issue with this message. Instead, both stories are pointing to something greater and beyond themselves. They both point to God’s magnanimous giving, ultimately seen in the willing sacrifice of His Son’s life on the cross. The stories of these two widows serve as actual living witnesses to the Lord’s death and resurrection, which is more apparent in the first story, where we see the generous widow’s dead son being miraculously raised to life.

The story of the widow’s mite in the gospel could be considered from three different angles.

First, from the angle of the Temple. The meagre contribution of this woman would have little value since those two small coins would have made little difference to the financial upkeep of the religious establishment. It’s the kind of loose change that one will have little hesitation to drop in the coin box set aside for tips. The unloading of a few extra coins would outweigh the inconvenience of keeping them. The Temple authorities would not have missed their absence.

The second perspective would be to compare the woman’s contribution with the other donors. St Mark tells us that other rich people are also making offerings at this time. As their substantial contributions are dropped into the metallic trumpet-like receptacles, it would have been both a sight to behold, as well as produce a sound that would have warmed the cockles of the hearts of those in charge of the Temples. They would be thanking God for these generous donations! What would the tiny chink of the widow’s two miserable coins matter in comparison with these generous donations.

But the last and most important perspective of considering this story, is from the angle of Christ and God. Those two metal flakes would have little value from the perspective of the Temple authorities or in comparison to the other large donations, but to our Lord, it mattered most. Because the true value of a gift depends on its cost to the giver. Her gift may be small, but to her, it could possibly cost her her life. That is why our Lord was quick to say, “I tell you solemnly, this poor widow has put more in than all who have contributed to the treasury; for they have all put in money they had over, but she from the little she had has put in everything she possessed, all she had to live on.”

We begin to see how the generosity of this widow in the gospel matches the generosity of the widow of Zarapeth. Both had given up what little they “had to live on.” Their giving would have not just have cost them their livelihood but more radically, their lives.

If this story merely focuses on the generosity of our giving, the demands made on this poor woman would certainly be scandalous and unjust. Aren’t we suppose to help the poor instead of demanding such sacrifices from the poor? So, merely focusing on generous giving cannot be the sole purpose of these stories. Our Lord is not justifying nor is He giving approval to an exploitive system which robs the poor, the widows and orphans. This would be the main criticism of many, who view any efforts by the Church to do fund-raising, as a violation of the principles of social justice and reduces the Church to a money-making enterprise. We must remember that when the widow gives, her giving is ultimately to God Himself, who has given everything to her. She never once complained about her gift giving but rather, it is the rich who often use the excuse of the poor to complain about giving. Remember Judas Iscariot, who complained about how Mary of Bethany wasted expensive oil on the Lord.

These women never counted nor begrudged the amount they gave because they were truly grateful for what they had received from God. Their generous giving was merely a reflexion of their gratitude. In this way, the widow in the gospel (just as the widow in the first reading) is a type, who points to the extravagant giving of our Lord, He gave up everything, including His own life, and held nothing back. Was His sacrifice and death unjust? Most certainly by any standards. But when done willingly and lovingly, it restored justice to our world.

The offering to the Temple will soon cease with its destruction. But the Lord will build a new temple in His body, that will minister to the broken, the neglected, the sinners and the poor. He will lay down His life for this widow (and for all of us) in a way that far exceeds her or anyone else’s faithful giving. In doing so, this widow will have a new husband—Christ Himself—and her humble gift of two miserable coins will be reciprocated with the greatest gift of all - the eternal life of her Divine Spouse, who will not allow her to be exploited by those who would wish to swallow her property because He is the One who will never leave her nor forsake her, nor will death ever separate them.

Saturday, October 30, 2021

Remember me at the altar of the Lord

Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed 2021


Most of us have a myopic view of reality, we often only see the small picture and are oblivious to the bigger one. This is a drastic mistake as it often translates into bad decisions, despair or at the other extreme, false optimism. The same could be said about the average person’s view of the Church. For most of us, church refers to, the physical building in which we worship and to the more enlightened, the community of believers of Jesus Christ spread out throughout the world. In the latter understanding of the Church, we often only remember the living members and never the dead.

But traditionally, the Church sees itself as a “bigger tent” - of both the living and the dead. The Catechism of the Catholic Church explains how there are “three states of the Church … at the present time some of his disciples are pilgrims on earth. Others have died and are being purified, while still others are in glory, contemplating ‘in full light, God himself triune and one, exactly as he is'” (CCC 954). Traditionally, these three states have been referred to as the Church Militant, Church Penitent (also known as Church Suffering or Church Expectant) and Church Triumphant. Together, these three make up the Communion of Saints which we profess in the Creed.

In our eagerness to eulogise the dead, we often end up with the mistake of neglecting our duty of praying for the souls in Purgatory, the members of the Church Penitent or Church Suffering. For if our loved ones are already in heaven, they have no need of our prayers. Instead, we pray to those who are in heaven, the Saints, and ask for their intercession. Our funeral Masses would then be redundant since we can already start celebrating the death of our departed brother and sister as a feast.

If you find this ridiculous and even irreverent, then there is still hope. You’ve not entirely lost your Catholic sensibility. The idea of funerals and this particular day in the year, specifically set aside for praying for the dead, is premised on the belief that not all persons who die will immediately go to heaven. In fact, for the vast majority of us, we would most likely be in Purgatory, even if we have lived a fairly good but far from perfect life.

Of course, many people believe that by thinking or speaking of their loved ones in purgatory would mean sullying their memory. This is based on the belief that purgatory is often seen as some kind of negative judgment on the deceased - that the person was far from perfect, that he or she had feet of clay. But rather than a negative judgment, our belief that souls are being purified in purgatory is a positive judgment and one of hope. It means that though persons may not be perfect, there is still hope of their redemption in the ongoing work of God. As St Paul wrote in his letter to the Romans which we heard in the Second Reading, this hope “is not deceptive, because the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit which has been given to us.” It is a hope not based on human merits but the result of the sacrifice of Christ who “died for sinful men.”

Thus, the Catechism of the Catholic Church explains that “all who die in God’s grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven” (CCC 1030). Souls in purgatory are destined for heaven! Once a soul is purified in purgatory, the baggage of sin and earthly attachments are gone, and they are able to love as God loves and enter into eternal union with Him.

Many of us live with the guilt of not having done enough for our departed loved ones when they were alive. We want to make it up to them but death has robbed us of the opportunity to do so, or that is what we think. In his “Confessions,” St Augustine remembers his mother dying and his brother expressing his concern to St Monica that she would die outside of Rome, rather than in her native country in Africa. St Monica looked at her sons, and said: “Bury my body wherever you will; let not care of it cause you any concern. One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.” Monica was not concerned about the location or ostentatiousness of her tomb. She had only one wish, that her son, now an ordained priest, should offer the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass for the eternal repose of her soul.

We, too, should make praying for the dead a priority, since it is an act of mercy and love for those who can no longer purify themselves through their growth in the virtues here on earth. This is what our departed loved ones need from us - not stirring and moving eulogies nor memorials, tributes and imposing tombs. If our departed loved ones could speak from beyond the grave, we would most likely hear something similar to what St Monica had requested from her sons, “One thing only I ask you, that you remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be.” For those who feel guilty for not having done their best for their loved ones before their death, this is an opportunity to make up for lost time and effort. This too, is what the Lord desires of us. The Lord in His patience, desires salvation for all and that we love as He loves.

The Church encourages you, therefore, to seek indulgences, pray novenas, fast, make sacrifices and have Masses said for the deceased, especially for those who have no one to pray for them. These acts of charity will increase the love of God in your heart and soul and help those who have gone before us in death. As St Ambrose reminds us, “we have loved them in life, let us not forget them in death.”

Friday, October 29, 2021

Losers and Winners

Solemnity of All Saints 2021


Some of you may have been fans of the characters of the Peanuts comic strip created by Charles M. Schultz. Without a doubt, we have grown up enjoying, laughing with, sympathising and even hating the various individual comic personalities. My most endearing character is definitely Charlie Brown, the main male protagonist. The reason for this attraction is because Charlie Brown reminds me so much of myself growing up and even now, as an adult.

Personality-wise, he is gentle, insecure, and lovable. Charlie Brown possesses significant determination and hope, but frequently fails because of his insecurities, outside interferences, or plain bad luck. Although liked by his friends, he is often the subject of bullying, especially at the hands of Lucy van Pelt. Charlie is the proverbial Born Loser. He is described by his creator as “the one who suffers because he’s a caricature of the average person. Most of us are much more acquainted with losing than winning. Winning is great, but it isn’t funny.” We may laugh at Charlie’s bumbling expense, but as far as Charlie is concerned, losing isn’t funny either.

To be a Christian today often feels like being a loser. This is true, both as a matter of demographics and regarding the influence and respectability of traditional Christian values. There are fewer Christians even in traditionally predominantly “Christian” countries, and our neighbours think less of us because of our strange values and ideas. We are increasingly outsiders. And how we respond to this reality may be the defining question of our time.

The good news is that Christianity has always been a religion of losers. We have been persecuted, our beliefs have been ridiculed and rejected, our values have been maligned, sometimes driving us underground to practice our faith secretly. But though we may appear to be weak, powerless, failures, and losers in the eyes of the world, in the eyes of God we are victorious and winners! In this world we will have trouble; in this world we will lose; but take heart, Christ has overcome the world. And this is what the Saints in heaven declare in song and praise: “Victory to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” These were the same figures who appeared to be defeated by anti-Christian forces, persecuted, tortured and martyred and yet, emerged victorious holding palms as trophies of their victory.

Nowhere is this truth more evident than in the Beatitudes. One could paraphrase the list of beatitudes as this: “Happy or Blessed are the losers!” This is what the paradoxical and counterintuitive values behind the Beatitudes seek to display. Our Lord and Saviour, just as the beatitudes would describe, had to experience poverty, pain, suffering, loss, persecution and death for the sake of righteousness in order to gain the victory and joyful blessedness of the resurrection and the gift of eternal life for all of us. This is the core of the Christian message - death before resurrection, loss before victory, last before first, poverty before riches. For in the Christian story, ‘success and failure’ is inverted.

Although we often describe the Saints in heaven as the Church Triumphant, those who have “run the race” and are crowned with glory in Heaven, it often doesn’t feel this way here on earth. Our earthly experiences of failure and loss make us doubt the promises of the beatitudes.

But if we take a deeper look at the promises which are proclaimed by the beatitudes, we begin to recognise the veracity of their claims even in this life without waiting for the next. The losers can discover something about themselves that winners cannot ever appreciate – that they are loved and wanted simply because of who they are, and not because of what they achieve. That despite it all, raw humanity is glorious and wonderful, entirely worthy of love. This is revealed precisely at the greatest point of dejection – our Lord’s death and resurrection. The resurrection is not just a magic trick at raising a dead body to life. That’s a neat and impressive trick. But it is so much more than that. It is a revelation that love is stronger than death, grace is stronger than sin, that human worth is not indexed to worldly success, but to one’s fidelity to the path laid out by Christ. The lives of the Saints are testimony to this. On this side of heaven, they may appear to be losers. But as the vision of St John in the first reading lifts the veil, we are given a glimpse of their true worth - they are winners and victors in the Kingdom of Heaven.

A successful Christian, if you can call him or her one, called to be a saint, ought to be hated rather than feted in this world. Yes, it does seem that the modernist forces seem to be attacking the Church from every angle, that orthodox Christian beliefs and values are aggressively under assault, yet this feast reminds us that we are not alone in our experience and that this epoch in history, is not that unique as the Church has always suffered derision, rejection, humiliation and condemnation from her inception. We often forget that until our Lord returns in glory as He brings judgment upon the earth, battles and wars will remain. So, no matter how peaceful we wish our lives could be, the truth is our lives, this side of heaven, will be tainted with conflict.

But despite the onslaught she experiences, not only from earthly enemies but also demonic forces, the vision described in the Book of the Apocalypse will be the final outcome. There, before the throne of the Lamb, we will know that we are conquerors, not losers and that failure will be redeemed by the victory won for us by the Lamb which was slain.

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

Getting it right

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B


Our gospel passage begins with a question posed by a scribe, a scholarly expert of the Law: “which is the first of all the commandments?” His motives are unclear. Why would an expert of the Law seek knowledge from someone who has no formal training in the Law? Is he trying to test our Lord’s knowledge of the Law? Even if his motives are pure and his question is genuine, being a scholar, was he looking for an intellectual answer rather than some insight that would lead to personal spiritual growth?

But our Lord’s response is not just any theoretical answer which academics enjoy brandishing in public to show off their erudition. He is not just reciting some Jewish catechism from memory. If you have paid attention to the first reading you would realise that the first part of the answer given by the Lord is not novel nor ground breaking. In fact, His answer is surprising precisely because of its simplicity and notoriety. The Shema is an affirmation of God’s singularity and kingship, the foundation of Israel’s covenantal relationship with God and principle which underlies all the commandments. Thus, it is the centrepiece of the daily morning and evening prayers and is considered the most essential prayer in all of Judaism.

It is good to note that the Shema was not meant to be an ethical principle but rather a doctrinal one which asserted that there is but one God, who has created all things and who holds all things in existence by His goodness and power. His claim on us is therefore total, calling for a total response at every level of our being.

In prayer, the faithful Jew carries the text literally before his eyes (traditionally, it is recited with the hand placed over the eyes to block out all distractions), on his hands and on the doorposts of his house, so that he is always aware of the most important loyalty in life. It is a reminder that love of God must dominate all our actions and thoughts; it must be always in our minds and thoughts, and must be the guide of all our deeds and motivations.

The second part of our Lord’s answer is a quotation of Leviticus 19:18: “You must love your neighbour as yourself.” If the first part of our Lord’s answer came as no surprise to His listeners, this second part stands as something unique. Our Lord is the first one known to have explicitly combined these two commandments - the doctrinal is now inseparably tied to the ethical. Our love of God is concretised and expressed in our love for fellow human beings.

St Bede in his commentary on this text, wrote: “neither of these two kinds of love is expressed with full maturity without the other, because God cannot be loved apart from our neighbour, nor our neighbour apart from God… There is only one adequate confirmation of whole-hearted love of God - labouring steadily for the needy in your midst, exercising continuing care for them.”

Our Lord then concludes by stating that “there is no commandment greater than these.” The scribe then condescendingly expresses his approval of what the Lord had said, as if the Lord had given the correct answer to a riddle posed by the scribe. This is ironic since our Lord is in no need of this man’s approval nor is our Lord’s knowledge inferior to his. But our Lord seems to accept the affirmation of this scribe graciously as the latter repeats the formula again whilst adding at the end: “this is far more important than any holocaust or sacrifice.’”

Our Lord recognises the wisdom of this man and appears to praise him for his insight: “You are not far from the kingdom of God.” But these words are double edged. This man may not be far from the kingdom because of his knowledge and learning but he is still not in the kingdom. Thus, our Lord was challenging this scribe to go further than his scholarly knowledge.

Our Lord was helping the scribe to understand that the real answer lay not in any theoretical formulary but its real meaning could only be derived from living out the truth that was conveyed by that answer. Yes, many can give the correct answers to doctrinal questions of faith, but the greater challenge would be to live out that truth in a practical way, to put into practice what we profess with our lips - and what better way of putting into practice the faith we profess than to love our neighbour. Christianity is no mere theoretical or philosophical discipline but an ethical one. Knowledge of our faith will do us little good if we do not put into practice what we profess. Likewise, merely showing acts of kindness and doing good without finding its basis in our love for God in response to His love for us is not enough. In the absence of God, the Church will be nothing more than a non-governmental organisation.

Thus, at the heart of our Christian lives as a whole, we must seek to nurture this precious gift of faith: for as we seek to deepen our understanding of the mysteries of our salvation, so we come to perceive more fully the depth of God’s love for us, and thus are drawn, by His grace, to love Him with more and more of our mind, as of our heart. This love incorporates both the vertical and the horizontal - love of God and love of neighbour - as well as the practical and the intellectual – because we were made by God “to know Him, to love Him, to serve Him and be with Him in paradise forever. If like the scribe in today’s Gospel, we truly grasp the primacy of this, then our Lord’s words are also meant for us: ‘you are not far from the kingdom of God’. But, if we should go further than the scribe by putting this faith and love into practice, then we will be rewarded by another set of our Lord’s words, “yours is the kingdom of heaven.”

Thursday, October 21, 2021

Proclaim, Praise, Shout!

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B


We’ve been taught since young, that shouting and yelling are rude and offensive. So, we’ve learnt measured speech, how to tone down and moderate the volume of our voice, speak in a hushed and muffled tone in public places, out of respect for others. We have been so good at this that we have forgotten that the essence of evangelisation, of proclaiming the Good News calls for the reverse. In the first reading, the Prophet Jeremiah tells the people to proclaim the good news of how God will rescue them in three imperative commands: “Proclaim! Praise! Shout!” Can you imagine if he told the people to do this: “Be quiet! Lower your volume! Whisper if you really have to say anything!” Thank God he didn’t. We wouldn’t be here today if Christians in past centuries had chosen to remain quiet.

Likewise, we see the example of the blind man Bartimaeus, in today’s gospel reading. He didn’t attempt to soften his voice when he wanted to get the Lord’s attention, thinking that politeness would win him an audience, No! He had the nerve to brazenly shout aloud, “Son of David, Jesus, have pity on me!” Our Lord took no offence in this man’s yelling and impassioned speech but His disciples did. They immediately tried to silence him. They were not only indifferent to his blindness but now wish to render him mute too. Our Lord would not have any of this!

The attempts of the crowds to quieten Bartimaeus only stoked the hunger in his soul. He wanted mercy, and he wanted vision, and ultimately, he wanted Jesus. The one thing Bartimaeus needed was the one thing only Jesus could provide— salvation. In a way, even before his healing at the hands of the Lord, Bartimaeus was already displaying one of the key characteristics of a disciple - he is one who will not shut up in the face of discouragement. Instead, he understands that he must proclaim, praise and shout the name of our Lord Jesus Christ and the Good News of salvation which the Lord brings. Despite the opposition and the efforts of others to suppress his voice, Bartimaeus was not daunted. Nothing was going to deter him. Nothing was going to silence him. If we only have a modicum of his resilience and tenacity when it comes to preaching the gospel.

Another proof that this man is an example of a true disciple is found at the end of the story. Our Lord having healed him, sends him on his way, but instead, this enlightened man decides to follow our Lord on the Lord’s way. This episode takes place just before the Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the beginning of Holy Week which would climax in the passion, death and resurrection of the Lord. Where our Lord’s other disciples attempt to dissuade Him to take this path and each run off when the going gets tough, Bartimaeus chooses to follow the path of his master whom he has already proclaimed as “the Son of David.”

Many of us would find Bartimaeus’ yelling disturbing and irritating.  Why so much noise? We would prefer a quieter, civilised and highly sanitised method of conveying the same message, but perhaps it needs the shouting of Bartimaeus to break through the obtuse walls of modern society, who has chosen to be both blind and deaf to the message of the gospel. In fact, modern society seems to have erected an impenetrable wall to keep out the noise of the gospel and only the most fervent and impassioned proclamation of the gospel can penetrate this shell. The world can only hear the gospel, if we choose to be a nuisance.

We should be like St Paul, so emboldened by the gospel that we should never hesitate to proclaim it: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek” (Rom 1:16). The problem is that most Catholics actually do feel ashamed of proclaiming the Good News of Christ. They do so because of the following reasons:

First, many of us believe that we would be rude and offensive if we were to share our faith with others. We believe that silence about our faith is the most respectful way we interact with people who do not share the same beliefs as ours. We do not wish to foist our ideas or values on them.

Second, many are ashamed, not so much of the gospel but of their lack of knowledge and depth of knowledge concerning their own faith. So, the truth is not that we are ashamed or embarrassed by Christ or the gospel, but with our own inadequacy.

Third, we actually believe that not sharing our faith with others is actually taking the cue from our Lord’s example. Many are convinced that He only challenged the religious self-righteous crowd and pretty much left sinners and Gentiles to their own devices.

But the reason why we must not be afraid of speaking about our faith is because it is the most loving thing to do. Preaching the gospel does not mean we hold others in disdain or that we are contemptuous of their current situation. Preaching the gospel is not smirky arrogant expression of triumphalism, that we are better than them. No, preaching the gospel is because they, just like us, have the right to hear the truth, the truth about salvation, the truth that will set us free from the shackles of sin and addiction. To be quiet is not charity. On the contrary, it is the exact reverse - choosing not to proclaim, praise and shout the Good News reveals our lack of charity and our twisted penchant for self-preservation.

It is good manners to refrain from yelling at others, whether publicly or privately, but it is never appropriate to remain quiet or couch the gospel in politically correct niceties. Do not be afraid to be labelled a nuisance. Our Lord was considered one too. In fact, calling attention to a sinking ship when everyone is sublimely enjoying themselves is not nuisance, but charity, and it takes courage to speak the life-saving Truth above the din and noise of lies and falsehoods that will sink us.

If preaching the Word is indeed a nuisance, let it be a positive nuisance - one that will shake us from our slumber, one that will move us to repentance, one that will ignite the fire of evangelical zeal within the hearts of our listeners. So don’t be silenced by detractors or choose to censor yourself - “Proclaim! Praise! Shout!” The world needs to hear the gospel! The world has a right to hear the gospel! “Proclaim! Praise! Shout!”

Tuesday, October 12, 2021

Sharing in the Lord's Suffering

Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B


This episode takes place immediately after our Lord had prophesied His death and resurrection for the third and last time. Instead of responding to this and seeking further clarification, the disciples respond once again in the most inept and tactless way. On the first occasion, St Peter tried to convince our Lord to change His mind on going to Jerusalem. In the second instance, we have them secretly discussing who will be the greatest. Now on this third occasion, we have the two brothers privately seeking places of honour, and the others feeling indignant because these two had obviously jumped the gun in trying to secure promotions before the others had a chance to do so. They were more concerned about their positions in our Lord’s future organisation, that they were oblivious to His words on His imminent suffering and death.

In wanting to secure the top positions in the Messiah’s future government, the two brothers and other disciples had once again misunderstood the nature of our Lord’s mission and their identity as His disciples. Our Lord then throws them a challenge - will they be willing to drink the cup which He has to drink or be baptised with the baptism with which our Lord must be baptised. What is the meaning of this cup and baptism?

Obviously, our Lord is not just referring to the drinking cup which intimate friends and family members sometimes share at a meal as a sign of fellowship, nor is He referring to the baptism He received at the River Jordan when He was baptised by St John. In both instances, He is speaking of a future event symbolised by both the cup and the baptism. Our Lord is asking His disciples, which includes all of us, if we are willing to be united with Him in His redemptive suffering. Both the Eucharistic cup of the Blood of Christ and the baptism by which Christians are to undergo, are a participation in the death of Christ. In contrast to the world’s standards which see a sharing in a great king’s perks and benefits as a sign of honour, to share in Christ’s death and suffering would be the greatest privilege and honour for Christians.

Our Lord reminds us that the values of His Kingdom will be in stark contrast with the values of the world, values which prioritises privilege, power, and riches: “This is not to happen among you.” In fact, the values of the Kingdom will be profoundly counter-cultural and counter-intuitive: “anyone who wants to become great among you must be your servant, and anyone who wants to be first among you must be slave to all.” There is no place for self-promotion, rivalry or domineering conduct among Christians.

Ultimately, we are to look to Christ as the model par-excellence for greatness in the Kingdom of God. This last line sums up our Lord’s messianic mission: “For the Son of Man himself did not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” The words of our Lord are thus the fulfilment of the prophesy of Isaiah concerning the atoning suffering of the Servant which we had heard in the first reading. There is no way around this. This is the mission of the Suffering Servant. He has come to suffer for the atonement of sins. And it is clear in the gospel, that He did not only suffer, but came to die, “to give his life as a ransom for many.” God sent His Son to die on the cross for us and for our salvation. He could have redeemed us in another way that involved less agony for Jesus, but the suffering was a key part of the sacrifice. In the words of the theologian Jürgen Moltmann, “God not only participates in our suffering but also makes our suffering into His own, and takes our death into His life

The redemptive suffering of Christ which we are called to share, flies against common notions on suffering. Suffering is not an achievement trophy, like how athletes show us when they’ve put in the effort for a good workout. Neither is suffering a curse inflicted upon us by a cruel and sadistic God. Most certainly, suffering is not a mark of failure. By suffering for humanity, our Lord has transformed the curse into a blessing, into something redemptive.

But it isn’t only our Lord who suffers redemptively for us. He also invites us, by challenging us to share in the cup which He must drink and the baptism which He must undergo, to share in His work of redemption by uniting our suffering with His in an eternal offering of love. Seems like a crazy kind of love, right? But redemptive suffering is the most beautiful and perfect love. Offering up our suffering is a powerful way to become like Christ and love others, as He loves them. We are able to love this way because of grace. Redemptive suffering is a gift accorded to us because we are His friends. It is impossible for us to love this way on our own. It is only possible with God.

One of the most profound witnesses of redemptive suffering was Pope Saint John Paul II. Karol Wojtyla, as a young man and even during the early years of his pontificate, was a picture of health, vigour and vitality. However, in 1981, he suffered an assassination attempt in Rome. In the early 90s, however, a series of health problems began to take their toll. Describing the Holy Father in the fall of 1998, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger stated: “The pain is written on his face. His figure is bent, and he needs to support himself on his pastoral staff. He leans on the cross, on the crucifix....” Despite the visible pain, he carried his suffering in a prophetic manner. His courage and perseverance in carrying out his activities as pope, despite his physical afflictions, was a heart-lifting example for all of us.

 In 1984, he published the apostolic letter “On the Christian Meaning of Suffering.” When confronted with suffering, most of us desperately seek answers to the question ‘Why’? Why me? Why now? The pope responds by telling us, that Christ does not really give us an answer to such questions, but rather a lived example. When we approach Christ with our questions about the reason for suffering, says the pope, we cannot help noticing that the one to whom we put the questions “is himself suffering and wishes to answer...from the Cross, from the heart of his own suffering.... “Christ does not explain in the abstract the reasons for suffering,” he points out, “but before all else he says: ‘Follow me!’ Come! Take part through your suffering in this work of saving the world... Gradually, as the individual takes up his cross, spiritually uniting himself to the Cross of Christ, the salvific meaning of suffering is revealed before him” (#26).

Many who suffer the infirmities of aging and illness may ask the poignant question, ‘What can I possibly do in my present condition?’ Old age and illness both seem to be impediments to all the things a person hopes to achieve in his or her life. But the Lord and the witness of the Saints remind us, especially those of you who are leaning on the cross of Christ, that your suffering need not be futile nor meaningless. Do not waste your sufferings by complaining about them or grow bitter as a result of them. For in courageously bearing with your sickness, your pain, your troubles, in continuing to show love despite your fatigue, you reveal and proclaim the profound mystery of Christ’s presence even in the midst of suffering. Through your suffering, you make visible and audible the Suffering Christ from the cross who invites us: “Can you drink the cup that I must drink, or be baptised with the baptism with which I must be baptised?”