Love unites with the Beloved

Homily for the Assumption of Our Lady

Recently I had the opportunity and privilege to read the soon to be canonised (fingers crossed and praying hard) Venerable Fulton Sheen’s beautiful book on the Blessed Virgin Mary, The Woman the World Loved. I would strongly recommend that you get your own personal copy as it ought to be an indispensable addition to your Catholic library collection. In fact, for Archbishop Sheen, it is said that this was his favourite book -“he cherished it more than the rest”, as noted in the foreword.

In the chapter which he dedicated to the theme of the Assumption, he postulated that the Church appropriately timed its promulgation of the two modern dogmas of our Lady, the Immaculate Conception and the Assumption, to address two diagonally opposing cultural moods prevalent in those respective eras; the optimism, at the dawn of the modern age in the latter half of the nineteenth century (where man believed that he could accomplish anything and everything), and the subsequent pessimistic mood, that followed the two devastating World Wars.

If he is correct, and I believe he is, then the dogma of the Assumption is the Church’s response and challenge to a world that sees no hope beyond the grave. If this life is all there is to it, it is no wonder that this has fuelled a hedonistic mentality that attempts to satiate every sensual and sexual need and want, whilst we are still alive and kicking. In fact, we see how the sexual revolution which began in the 1960s and 1970s had evolved into a culture obsessed with sexual libertinism, redefinitions of sexual and gender roles, normalisations of sexual encounters between consenting partners, rapid rise in divorces and disintegration of families, multiplication of categories that continue to be added on to the ever lengthening abbreviation LGBTQ and advancements in the pornography driven internet. Even the Church and her hierarchy sworn to celibacy have not been spared by this prurient malaise.

According to Archbishop Sheen, the Church through the dogma of the Assumption, had “to give hope to the creature of despair. Modern despair is the effect of a disappointed hedonism and centres principally on sex and death.” Therefore, the Church meets this two-fold problem head-on, “by lifting humanity from the darkness of sex and death, to the light of Love and Life.”

First, the Assumption addresses the world’s obsession with sex by proposing love as the answer. The sexual revolution’s rallying cry, “make love not war” was a lie. There was no love in the orgiastic no-holds-barred sexualised culture of that era. It was not “love” but selfish self-gratifying “free sex” that was being promoted. On the other hand, “the Assumption affirms not sex but love,” writes Sheen. “Love, like fire, burns upward, since it is basically desire. It seeks to become more and more united with the object that is loved.” Love gravitates to the other whereas lust often gravitates to self.

Sheen then makes this wonderful and insightful analogy: “If the distant moon moves all the surging tides of earth, then the love of Mary for Jesus and the love of Jesus for Mary should result in such an ecstasy as “to lift her out of this world”. Love in its nature is an ascension in Christ and an assumption in Mary.” Love, therefore, according to Sheen is the secret of the Assumption, for “love craves unity with the Beloved.” And there is no human soul who can claim to love our Lord more than His own mother. And there is no human soul which our Lord loves more than His own mother, the one who perfectly “does the will of the Father.”

Secondly, Sheen proposes that life is the second philosophical pillar on which the Assumption rests. “Life is unitive; death is divisive. Goodness is the food of life, as evil is the food of death.” If original sin separated man from God, “death is the last stroke of that division.” Since death is the division and separation of a soul from its body and springs from sin, it follows then that the only creature who is preserved from Original Sin is immune from that division which sin begets.

But under this second point, Sheen also makes this startling comparison between the Tabernacle and Mary, rightly called the First Tabernacle, because she enclosed in her womb the true Bread from Heaven. Mary is, therefore, assumed body and soul into heaven because she is united in flesh with her son, our Lord, the Living Bread from heaven. “In this doctrine of the Assumption, the Church meets the despair of the world in a second way. She affirms the beauty of life as against death. When wars, sex, and sin multiply the discords of men, and death threatens on every side, the Church bids us lift up our hearts to the life that has the immortality of the Life that nourished it. Feuerbach said that a man is what he eats. He was more right than he knew. Eat the food of earth, and one dies; eat the Eucharist, and one lives eternally. She, who is the mother of the Eucharist, escapes the decomposition of death.”

More than ever, the message conveyed by the dogma of the Assumption of Mary needs to be heard by a world, trapped and enamoured, even obsessed by sex and death. Today, we live in a sexualised world where persons are single-dimensionally defined by their sexual orientation. It is as if nothing else matters in shaping one’s identity. Sex itself has changed from an intensely private – even secretive – aspect of life, to an object of public display and celebration. Driven by consumer demands, sex has also become a commodity – big businesses push it, use it to sell products, knowing that the demand for it is insatiable. Chastity and purity in an intensively sexualised world have become anomalies. Promiscuity, on the other hand, has become the norm. This obsession with sex and sexual rights have led to the separation of the sexual act from procreation, from life itself. The sexual act of reproduction is intended to ensure that life continues. But when sex is taken out of this larger context of life, then it can only lead to death. No wonder, St John Paul II terms contraception and abortion the “culture of death.”

If we are to address the crisis posed by sex and death, then the dogma of the Assumption must be proclaimed once again, reiterating that sex divorced from love can never lead to life. Only self-giving and life-giving love can guarantee life, and not just any life as necessary for survival but eternal life. Only through the self-gift of love can we recover that integral body-soul identity of ours, not just as sexual beings but creatures made in the “image and likeness of God.” Because God created us in His image with a body, we can express and receive love through that body. It gives us the means by which to show our love and by which others receive our love. And because the body and the spirit both go together, God’s plan is for the salvation not just for the soul but also our flesh, through the flesh of the crucified and risen Lord.

The Venerable Fulton Sheen gives us one last parting advice, “The greatest task of the spiritual leaders today is to save mankind from despair, into which sex and fear of death have cast it. The world that used to say, “Why worry about the next world, when we live in this one?” has finally learned the hard way that, by not thinking about the next life, one cannot even enjoy this life. When optimism completely breaks down and becomes pessimism, the Church holds forth the promise of hope. Threatened as we are by war on all sides, with death about to be rained from the sky by Promethean fires, the Church defines a truth that has Life at its centre. Like a kindly mother whose sons are going off to war, (the Church) strokes our heads and says: “You will come back alive, as Mary came back again after walking down the valley of Death.”

Be dressed for action

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

I don't know anybody who thinks that the end of world is a good thing; but actually, I know a few good people who want the end of the world to happen. I’m going to make a public confession – I’m one of them. Whenever someone presents me with a litany of problems, problems beyond my capacity to resolve, I would just utter the ancient Aramaic prayer, “Maranatha” – “Come O Lord!” (Please come!) For many, the end times may seem dreadfully frightening but for me, and indeed for the Church and as it should be for every Christian, an immensely desirable event, when Christ will come in glory to vindicate the innocent and punish the wicked, put an end to suffering, pain, turmoil, violence and evil and finally, set things right.

The end of the world is Good News. That’s right. You didn’t hear me wrong and it was no slip of the tongue on my part. In today's Gospel our Lord gives us the promise of the end of the world specifically as a consolation and not as a cause for anxiety: “There is no need to be afraid, little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom.”  This is certainly the case for those who have been faithful, as the Master in the parable will be seen rewarding the faithful servants on his return. But for the others, who did not anticipate the Master’s return, then his coming would certainly be a dread moment of judgment and punishment.

Today’s gospel reading is to be read together with last week’s passage where our Lord tells the parable of the rich man who foolishly hoards his riches and fails to make preparation for his impending death. The theme that strings both passages is the End Times with a special emphasis on the Final Judgment.

In last week’s parable, our Lord wishes to expose the futility of amassing material stores for the future when that future could be cut off at any time. In fact, our Lord concludes that self-serving riches is worthless when compared with being rich in the sight of God. The problem is not mere possession of riches but the selfishness which governs their use. In this week’s teaching, the Lord will show how one becomes rich for God by sharing one’s earthly riches. And so today’s passage makes three basic points:

Firstly, disciples are not to be anxious over material security because “it has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom”;

Secondly, disciples must be generous in giving alms – “sell your possessions and give alms”. And the reason for this generosity is that we will be given a “treasure that will not fail you, in heaven where no thief can reach it and no moth destroy it.”

Third, because our treasure and our reward lie elsewhere and not in our earthly possessions or achievements, disciples must constantly be looking to the coming of the Son of Man.

Since a disciple’s concern must always be with the Kingdom of God rather than the earthly anxious concerns of the world, false anxiety and lack of generosity are urgent matters which cannot be put aside for the future. In their attitudes and relationships, the disciples must be “dressed for action and have (their) lamps lit.” This sounds like our Lord imposing a dress code, perhaps the one thing that is most unpopular in this parish. But the reality is that the dress code imposed by the church merely reflects in a sacramental way the proper inner disposition of a disciple. To be “dressed for action” translates to have our “loins girded,” to be dressed for a journey, a new exodus as we follow Christ on the path of discipleship that leads to the cross. In other words, you cannot be “on the way,” if you are not wearing the proper “underwear” – that is, to have your loins girded. Ungirded loins may be comfortable for loitering around the house, but try running a 10 kilometre marathon without your knickers!

The disciples must also keep their lamps burning. This second metaphor is associated with the parable of the servants who await their master’s return from a wedding feast, thus the lamps refer to the constant state of watchfulness and vigilance. No Christian, no disciple of Christ can be caught off guard. There is no sabbatical or ‘day-offs’ for Christians because the Son of Man is already at the wedding feast. When He returns at the unexpected hour, He will introduce the disciples into His banquet, provided that they are awake and ready. As an incentive and motivation for vigilance, the parable promises a reward for the faithful servants. But for the steward who has decided to fall asleep on the job and take additional liberties especially in mistreating others, “his master will come on a day he does not expect and at an hour he does not know. The master will cut him off and send him to the same fate as the unfaithful.”

So, how can we be like the faithful servants in the story? The Epistle to the Hebrews gives us examples of our spiritual “ancestors” who were such faithful servants. Unsurprisingly the story of Abraham whom we call “our father in faith” has a prominent place. The author of Hebrews proposes Abraham as a powerful model of Christian faith because his whole life was lived as a pilgrimage. Even when he was in the Promised Land of Canaan, he recognised that this was not his true homeland, but only a sign of it. It points beyond itself – as all signs do – to the heavenly realm, life with God, for which every human being was created.

So if we find ourselves, in this present life, unsettled, uncomfortable, sorrowful and suffering, then we have the assurance that this hardship is part of our journey into joy. We are all on our journey, an exodus from the slavery to sin, to the freedom of becoming heirs of the Kingdom. Of course, it is indeed the task of the whole Church, and of every Christian – to make that hope believable, to make the pilgrimage to God sustainable, to bring into the lives of the sorrowful the authentic joy of Christ’s victory over sin and death.

Christians are called to be pilgrims of life. We must be in a constant state of departing. We are people “on the Way.” Thus, our every action and existence in the here and now becomes more urgent when we do not lose sight of the fact that God may call us to account at any moment. Every moment, every deed, every decision ceases to be trivial when our lives are lived and shaped directly in and toward the light of eternity. If we forget this immediacy, we end up abusing our stewardship of this earth; injustice and oppression becomes staple activities, we set “about beating the menservants and the maids and eating and drinking and getting drunk.” It is clear that many things would be quite different if everyone indeed keeps this simple truth in mind, that there will be accounting for our actions and decisions when the master returns.

Christians are not Marxists: we do not believe that we are going to bring about, by our own efforts, the perfection of humanity which in fact will only be achieved by God when He brings history to its fulfilment. But that does not mean that in the meantime we can rest easy. Our Gospel tells us that the Son of Man will come when we do not expect – He will break into history not when it seems to be finished, nor indeed when all seems hopeless, but at a time that makes sense to Him. But when He does come, He expects to find us working for that Kingdom which He alone can bring to completion. So, with our lamps lit, let’s get working, let’s be dressed for action, so that we can indeed face the future, and the present, with courage and joy.

Does life have meaning?

Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C

Does life have any meaning? When things in life are going well and we are happy and content, the question of the purpose and the meaning of life really doesn’t matter. But this particular needling question does pop up when we hit a crisis, a season of depression or a time of change. Both during youth and old age, the question of life’s purpose and meaning becomes particularly relevant, but for different reasons. With an infinite future ahead and limitless possibilities and choices, the youth wonders what the purpose of his life is and what he should do – get married and raise a family, seek further education and a professional career, get a good-paying job, or a billion other options. The older person who is retired, perhaps widowed, watching friends and family die all around him, also wonders what the purpose and meaning of life is – but for a very different reason than the youth. Choices become more limited. Those things that used to give life purpose and meaning seem to be slipping away.

So what is the real purpose and meaning of life? Is it to make a lot of money and be successful? Is it to marry and raise a family? Is it to obtain lots of material possessions – fancy car, big house, a fat bank account? Is it to make lots of friends, be popular and socialise? But, is that all? Is there no greater meaning or purpose to this amazing gift of life? For some, maybe these sources of meaning and purpose are enough—even if they don’t quite fulfill. Why? Because there is something very deep within us that says there is more to life than any of these, that there is something very great and meaningful that we are here for. But what is that purpose?

Sigmund Freud said it bluntly, and he is right: “… only religion can answer the question of the purpose of life.” The Second Vatican Council also expressed something similar in the first paragraph of its Declaration on the Relation of the Church to Non-Christian Religions (Nostra Aetate): “Men expect from the various religions answers to the unsolved riddles of the human condition, which today, even as in former times, deeply stir the hearts of men: What is man? What is the meaning, the aim of our life? What is moral good, what is sin? Whence suffering and what purpose does it serve? Which is the road to true happiness? What are death, judgment and retribution after death? What, finally, is that ultimate inexpressible mystery which encompasses our existence: whence do we come, and where are we going?” This Sunday’s first reading from Ecclesiastes also seeks to find an answer to these fundamental questions.

Ecclesiastes sets up the whole book as a kind of experiment, in which he searches for the meaning of life through a series of projects. He starts off searching for wisdom, but decides in the end that, “in wisdom is much vexation” (1:18). Then he moves on to pleasure and tries to find meaning in life by satisfying all of his base desires, but again “all was vanity and a striving after wind” (2:11). And then he turns to the third option, finding happiness in one’s labour, one’s achievements and even here he judges it as mere vanity. By this point, the author has already exhausted three possible routes to happiness, meaning and fulfillment: knowledge, pleasure and work. The gospel throws in a fourth option, wealth, and you have a “winning” or “losing” formula”: “Vanity of vanities. All is vanity!”

Now, the meaning of “vanity” has changed over the centuries. For the modern man, vanity is synonymous to narcissism and excessive pride, both pervasive problems of our age. But the word “vanity” in this context has a different meaning. “Vanity” translated from the Hebrew hebel, which means “vapour” or “breath.” Of course the word is used here in a densely metaphorical sense, causing translators throughout the ages to struggle to capture the proper sense of the claim that all things are ‘fleeting’, ‘empty’, ‘futile’, ‘vain’, ‘absurd,’ or ‘meaningless’. So a modern rendering may sound like this, “Meaningless, meaningless! Everything is meaningless!”  All of this may seem depressing and fatalistic but it is notable that the Book of Ecclesiastes ends by urging the reader to place his trust in God as the only Eternal Being.

True, there is a widespread hunger for religion and various forms of spiritualities. This is evidence of the abiding human need to find meaning. But too often these “spiritual” solutions often prove to be either fraudulent or as fragile as the options the world offers – knowledge, pleasure, work and possessions – they all end in futility. In contrast, St Paul in the second reading points us to a vision of human reality based on Christ. We were buried with Christ in baptism, and raised with Him through faith in the power of God. Since we have been raised with Christ, we should “look for the things that are in heaven, where Christ is sitting at God’s right hand.”  Of course, St Paul is not saying that we should become angels. That is not possible. But our present existence should be seen and lived in the light of 'heaven, where Christ is'.

Why is this heavenly perspective so crucially important, you might ask? This is because meaning is experienced as fulfillment. In other words, one who lives a meaningful life—i.e., a life which seeks to fulfill its purpose—is one who is fulfilled. And the fulfillment of a life well-lived is integral to our arriving at our destined end. What is our destined end? The answer to the second question of the Penny Catechism tells us: “We were made to know God, to love Him, to serve Him and be with Him in Paradise forever.” Every human being is destined for glory – we were created to be with Him in Paradise forever. Heaven is our destiny and therefore heaven is what ultimately gives life meaning.

Finally, the parable in our gospel today provides us with a stark and well needed reminder: If this world is all there is, then you will be disappointed. If you live in pursuit of the things of this world in an attempt to satisfy the longing of your soul, then you will die empty. Whatever you possess, you acquire, you achieve in this life, you would not be able to carry into the next. You see - the things of this world were never intended to ultimately satisfy. While their pleasures provide momentary satisfaction, in the end, you will be left wanting more. The things of this world are designed to point you to God and seek Him. This is because only God can truly satisfy. Life pursued apart from God is as futile as trying to catch the wind in a cup.

At the end of the day, when we do not place our priorities in their proper order, life starts to lose its meaning. Life is no longer a joy to live. Everything seem chaotic and meaningless. But when our life is in God’s order, life is a joyous adventure! Our Lord tells us that this is the proper order, “Seek first the Kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things will be given to you as well.” What’s the first thing? God. What is the second thing? Everything else. It is important not to get the two confused. Because when God becomes the second thing, and other priorities become the first thing, we lose God, and then our lives get lost in meaningless living.

But when the Lord takes first place in our hearts, we will find that life is far from the meaninglessness. Instead, we discover in God that we are made for a beautiful eternal communion, the ultimate fulfillment of our nature, our purpose, our destiny. We now understand what St Teresa of Avila is trying to remind us,

“Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you,

All things are passing away:

God never changes.

Patience obtains all things

Whoever has God lacks nothing; God alone suffices.”