Love is stronger than Death

Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

In the collective imagination of the Anglosphere, Robin Hood is second only to King Arthur in the hold he has on the public mind. The idea of the Merry Men living in self-constructed freedom “all under the merry greenwood tree” in Sherwood Forest – robbing the rich and helping the poor and staying loyal to King Richard the Lionheart during the regency of his brother – has been embraced by countless generations.

Robin Hood and his merry band of thieves have often been portrayed in a heroic light, as those who sided with the poor and stood against the despotic tyranny of the rich and powerful, symbolised in the person of the Sheriff of Nottingham, ironically, a medieval representation of the “blue”, the law enforcement agencies. Robin’s actions were not only regarded as justified but lauded as virtuous because he “stole from the rich to give to the poor!” There seems to be a resurgence of this spirit in many of the liberal ruled cities in America, where criminals are often vindicated as deserving of the spoils of theft and looting due to their disadvantaged social economic status. In fact, stealing is now regarded as a kind of reparation for what many would claim had been stolen from them. Ironically, the law enforcement officers, men who wear the “blue”, are regarded as the “bad guys”, very much like the wicked and conniving Sheriff of Nottingham.

In the second reading, we see St Paul writing to the wealthy church in Corinth and requesting them to send aid to the impoverished mother church in Jerusalem. He begins his appeal by first commending them on their spiritual wealth - “You always have the most of everything – of faith, of eloquence, of understanding, of keenness for any cause, and the biggest share of our affection – so we expect you to put the most into this work of mercy too.” Paul is trying to explain that this act of charity is not merely an act of generosity but also a work of mercy - another spiritual good. In other words, the more they give, the wealthier they become spiritually. Then he sets out the standard and model of such generosity - it is none other than Christ Himself: “Remember how generous the Lord Jesus was: he was rich, but he became poor for your sake, to make you rich out of his poverty.”

Of course, St Paul was not himself resorting to a Robin Hood mentality by taking from the rich to give to the poor. He was making it clear that any such giving should be done from a cheerful and willing heart, rather than grudgingly. Furthermore, he was not insisting that the Corinthians should impoverish themselves by enriching the folks in Jerusalem. He proposes a pragmatic rule to giving: “This does not mean that to give relief to others you ought to make things difficult for yourselves: it is a question of balancing what happens to be your surplus now against their present need, and one day they may have something to spare that will supply your own need. That is how we strike a balance …”

This is the reason why the vow of poverty which is taken by a religious is not meant to be pure renunciation of material goods, but rather a commitment to share everything in common. An interior spiritual poverty is required for communal living. A lack of it rings a death knell to the community, especially when every member is only looking out for his own interest and security, whilst failing to be concerned with the welfare of his brothers and sisters.

We see in the gospel the true hero worthy of our praise and emulation - it is not the fictional Robin Hood but the very real Jesus of Nazareth. Our Lord shows us how God’s generosity and providence can be given and is given to all, without depriving one whilst blessing the other. In the longer version of the gospel, we see both the adult and the child being recipients of our Lord’s mercy and healing powers - the woman who had suffered from internal bleeding for many years and the young girl whom our Lord brought back from the brink of death. It is arguable as to who was in the more dire situation. The focus seems to be on defeating death in the girl. Our Lord returning life to the dead girl confirms what is written in the Book of Wisdom that “death was not God’s doing,” and that God had made “man imperishable, He made him in the image of His own nature; it was the devil’s envy that brought death into the world …”

So, it is death and devil that seem to have robbed us of our immortality and they have done so without enriching anyone but impoverishing all of us. But our Lord comes to the rescue. He robs the devil and death of their booty and final victory. Death may be strong, in fact, it may be the strongest thing that anyone of us knows of - no medicine, no elixir, no insurance or guarantee, no fortress or bunker, no “Iron Dome” can keep us safe from its clutches. But there is one who is stronger, so strong that nothing can stand in His way - not the cross which took His life, not the stone rolled over the mouth of the tomb, not the gates of Hades could keep Him imprisoned. It is Christ our Lord and Saviour. He has plundered the fortress of death and the devil and restored our inheritance to us - life, eternal life.

And this is what St Baldwin of Canterbury declared in the 12th century, a truth that has not grown old nor will ever be obsolete:

“Death is strong: it has the power to deprive us of the gift of life. Love is strong: it has the power to restore us to the exercise of a better life.

Death is strong, strong enough to despoil us of this body of ours. Love is strong, strong enough to rob death of its spoils and restore them to us.

Death is strong; for no man can resist it. Love is strong; for it can triumph over death, can blunt its sting, counter its onslaught and overturn its victory. A time will come when death will be trampled underfoot; when it will be said: ‘Death, where is your sting? Death, where is your attack?’

‘Love is strong as death,’ since Christ’s love is the death of death. For this reason he says: ‘Death, I shall be your death; hell, I shall grip you fast.’ The love, too, with which Christ is loved by us is itself strong as death, since it is a kind of death, being the extinction of our old life, the abolition of vice, and the putting aside of dead works.”

Not Why but What

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

Someone once gave me a tip on how to sound smart even when I am not. “Ask a question which you do not have the answer. The other person most likely may not know either.” Of course, if the person did know the answer, you can always curtly tell him: “Wrong. When you find the right answer, come look for me!” Mischief managed!

Today’s readings are sandwiched between questions. In fact, the first reading is a set of rapid fire questions which God poses to Job. The gospel closes with the disciples asking this question about Jesus: “Who can this be? Even the wind and the sea obey him.” Ironically, the answer to the questions in the first reading would also serve to be the answer to the last question posed by our Lord’s disciples in the gospel.

Throughout the book of Job, we see our protagonist and his friends asking all sorts of questions directed at God and Job’s righteousness. The basic question is whether Job deserves his current loss and suffering. His friends say “yes” but Job defiantly protests his innocence by saying “no.” God finally breaks the silence and the book presents it in a most dramatic way: “From the heart of the tempest the Lord gave Job his answer.” Just like our Lord answered His disciples in the gospel in the middle of a storm.

God’s first question to Job (which has unfortunately been redacted from our first reading) sets the tone of their mostly one-way conversation and series of rhetorical questions, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding” (Job 38:4). In short, God is reminding Job and his friends, “Who are you to question me?” At the end of this age, we will stand before our Lord as Judge and King of the Universe. It is we who will be questioned, and it would be audacious for us to believe that we are entitled to question Him.

St Paul puts it more directly: But who are you, a human being, to talk back to God? “Shall what is formed say to the one who formed it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’” (Rom 9:20). Some translations of this passage in fact make this point clearer: “can a pot question the potter why it was made this way?”

Does it mean that we should never ask questions? Certainly not. As St Anselm wisely reminds us: “faith seeks understanding.” This is what we see in the episode of our Lord calming the storm in today’s gospel passage. The lack of faith exhibited by the fearful disciples who thought that they were drowning and that the Lord had abandoned them were now challenged to ask questions, questions which would deepen their faith and expand their understanding of who the Lord is: “Who can this be? Even the wind and the sea obey him.“ It’s a rhetorical question that can only have one answer. The answer, of course, is God - Jesus is God because only God could have such power and authority over the wind and sea - and yet, they were not ready to make that leap of faith, a leap which they will eventually make after the resurrection when they witness for themselves that Jesus also has authority over death, His own death.

There is, therefore, no dichotomy between faith and reason. But our pursuit for full understanding should not be the reason to demolish faith. The basis for asking questions and the goal for seeking answers should propel us to recognise our limited knowledge in comparison to God’s immense wisdom which is always beyond and above ours. Curiously embedded in the midst of our questioning nature is a profound insight into the human condition. At once this both affirms our search for understanding and demonstrates its limits.

The wisdom God puts in our inward parts makes it possible for us to yearn for an answer to the mystery of suffering. Yet our wisdom comes only from God, so we cannot outsmart God with wisdom of our own. In fact, He has implanted in us only a small fraction of His wisdom, so we will never have the capacity to comprehend all His ways. As we have seen, it may be good for our souls to voice our complaints against God. But it would be foolish to expect Him to admit His error, that He had made a mistake. The truth is that God never makes mistakes. We do but He never does.

It’s not wrong to experience grief or anger or any other emotion when we’re going through a hard time, when we find ourselves in a middle of a maelstrom wondering whether the Lord is sleeping on the job or that He has abandoned us. It’s ok to ask God our questions. It’s ok to tell God how we’re feeling, He already knows anyway. A key invitation of our spiritual journey is to be emotionally honest about our uncertainties. Questions…are signs of a living, growing, active faith, not evidence of a dying one.

But when we do ask questions, it is good to remember that we may not always get an answer right away, but when it comes, it will certainly shift my perspective. God is giving us a larger picture of our circumstances, just as He was doing it for Job and for the Lord’s disciples. Much like someone who stands too close to a painting and cannot appreciate the artist’s perspective, we need to step back a few steps so that we can glimpse — if not fully understand — God’s larger purposes with greater clarity. Part of this enlightenment is to show us that we may have been asking the wrong questions.

The question to ask is not “why?” but “what?” with a heart to learn God’s wisdom and purpose for us. Instead of asking, “why did this happen?”, we should actually be asking, “What do you want me to learn from this experience? What good do you want to come from this?” God generally does not answer any of our ‘why’ questions, but He will gradually answer those ‘what’ questions as He moulds us into a stronger person of faith. Because He wants us to trust Him like never before.

If we are looking for a reason for Job’s suffering or ours, we may not find it. But this we do know: Job’s ordeal has given him an even greater appreciation for God’s goodness. Job’s relationship with God has deepened, his faith has grown stronger and he has become wiser as a result. The same could be said of us whenever we experience hardship or face adversity. It’s not always easy to trust in the Lord’s providence and wisdom. But we are assured by St Paul, “we know that in everything God works for good with those who love him, who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). We may not see it clearly now, but it makes the hard times a little easier to bear, knowing that there is something to learn (and one day, to teach and encourage others) and that God will answer us “from the heart of the storm.”

It's not about you

Eleventh Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

We often oscillate between two extremes - on the one hand, we feel so motivated that we are totally confident in our ability, capacity and sufficiency of our resources to move mountains and reach for the stars - a kind of Thomas the Train or Obama concession speech, “yes, we can!” moment. On the other hand, after a series of setbacks and failures, a much wiser and less naive tone sets in, sometimes to the point of hapless despair. Our initial “yes, we can” is now replaced with a more realistic “no, we can’t. It’s simply impossible.”

Our Lord offers us two agrarian parables which offer us a different way of looking at things. You see, Christians are neither expected to become naive optimists nor cranky pessimists. We are asked to be people of faith and hope. Both optimism and pessimism are inadequate categories. Though they appear to be at opposite ends of the spectrum of how we should perceive life and any situation, they both share something in common. They are both flip sides of the same coin. Both give too much emphasis to self - either to our ability or inability to accomplish something.

In one of the most epic scenes in the movie Dr Strange, which sets the stage and prepares our eponymous hero for the final showdown, the hero enters into this profound conversation on the spectral plane with his mentor, the Ancient One, as the latter lies dying in the emergency operation theatre. It is the last piece of wisdom which the Ancient One imparts unto her student. Dr Strange started off as a cocky brilliant brain surgeon, so confident in his own ability to heal, but after a disastrous car crash which ended his career, he is now uncertain about himself and fears failure. The Ancient One tells him: “Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all.”
Dr. Stephen Strange: “Which is?”
The Ancient One: “It’s not about you.”

Yes, this is the powerful message of these parables and the first reading: “It’s not about you!” Rather, it is all about God. In the first reading, after the glory of Jerusalem had been destroyed and the Temple laid waste, the returning exiles from Babylon would have felt a heavy pessimism hovering over their future. Could they ever dream of rebuilding what had been destroyed and lost? Where would they find the resources to do this? It all seems to be a hopeless situation even if they are now given the opportunity to return to their homeland. This is where we see the prophetic genius of Ezekiel at work, painting a picture of how God would do the rebuilding and reconstruction of their nation by using images from nature. Ezekiel promises that Israel will again become a great cedar tree, in whose shade the nations will come to take shelter. But this great tree would not be the result of human planting or cultivation. It would be God’s doing.

The parables we find in the gospel reinforces this theme of God’s assured Providence. In the first parable which emphasises how the seed sown grows into a plentiful harvest with little intervention from the farmer and unbeknownst to him, we are assured that God’s purposes are accomplished in spite of our feeble and fumbling efforts. God is constantly working behind the scenes and His work is always successful, despite us not being able to discern it in a sensible manner.

The second parable adds an additional aspect to this theme. The beginnings of God’s work of building His kingdom often seems tiny and imperceptible, but never underestimate the outcome which will be massive. Small beginnings can produce grand endings. This would come as a message of hope to the early Christians who saw their movement as one led by a motley crew of underdogs, obstacles at every turn, impossible hurdles to overcome, and having to face the constant threat of extinction. What could a tiny mustard seed accomplish? It was not hard for these Christians to see how this metaphor applies to them. Yet, that very same mustard seed planted by God and nurtured by His hands would grow into a Church that would eventually overturn an empire without unsheathing a single sword. This was no optimistic vision of the future but something which eventually became a reality despite all the odds being stacked against it. The reason is simple. God is the mover, not us! So, don’t flatter yourself nor denigrate yourself, “it’s not about you!”

This is what Christian hope is about. Hope provides us with a vision of seeing the world, our current situation and the future through the lenses of God. The glossary section of the Catechism of the Catholic Church describes hope as “the theological virtue by which we desire and expect from God both eternal life and the grace we need to attain it.” An optimist may view things as attainable because of his strong confidence in his own ability to determine the outcome of his actions. A pessimist views a goal as unattainable because he only focuses on the futility of his own actions. But a man of faith with hope, is confident that God would fulfil what He has promised us and that He will supply us with sufficient grace to both endure our current situation and to attain the purpose which He has destined for us.

The solution to our despairing culture is not to pump it with more motivational hog wash and sell us the over-used idea that we are incredible, brilliant, capable and strong. What these programmes are trying to message is this - it’s all about you. You determine your future. You determine your own success and failure. You are in charge of your life and your destiny. The harsh reality of life would soon burst the optimistic balloon and expose these propositions as lies. The more you lead a self-focused life, the more you’re prone to discouragement. Every time you forget that it’s not about you, you’re going to get prideful or fearful or bitter. Those feelings will always lead to discouragement because they keep you focused on yourself.

The good news is that you don’t need to have all the answers. You don’t need to rescue yourself or others from a fix. You don’t need to be in control. You don’t need to be superman or superwoman. God has your back. God is the answer. God is always working even when nothing seems to be happening. God will always accomplish His purpose even when our efforts seem to fail, and every situation seems hopeless. This is the reason why in scripture, we often see God deliberately choosing men and women that culture overlooks to expose the hollow pretensions of the people who think they are something. God chooses what the world considers nonsense, weak, and ordinary to not only shame but also destroy all pretentious thinking and inflated pride. He does this so that the only thing that one can boast about is – Christ. Let us exclaim with St Paul “that we are full of confidence” not in ourselves or in our meagre resources but in Christ, who one day we hope would welcome us home!

Kinship and Discipleship

Tenth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B

One of the most colourful English expressions to describe a person who is out of his mind is “a sandwich short of a picnic.” Don’t attempt to wrap your head around this. What is pertinent in this description is the metaphor of a sandwich. In today’s gospel passage, although our attention is immediately focused on the heated argument between our Lord and His antagonists on the latter’s accusation that He is performing miracles with the power of demons, this is our first opportunity to see one of Mark’s sandwiches. Here, we begin with a story about our Lord’s family and end with another story about His family, while sandwiched in between is the story of Jesus and His conflict with the scribes.

The upper loaf of the sandwich begins with the story of how the family of Jesus wishes to take control of Him because they were of the opinion that He was “out of his mind.” Perhaps, one of the most painful experiences is to be accused by one’s loved ones as being insane. Those closest to our Lord tried to put a claim of control on Him because they thought He had gone crazy. This is a startling reminder that proximity to Jesus is not enough; allegiance to Jesus is what matters. That is what marks the followers of Jesus. It is striking that they want to silence Him, because He had just silenced the demons.

The scribes, a group of our Lord’s strongest critics, jumped at the opportunity to attack our Lord by accusing Him of being possessed by the Prince of Demons, Beelzebul. Mental illness in ancient times was a sure sign of possession. They were confident that this time their accusation would stick since our Lord’s own family had turned against Him and had become the prosecution’s star witnesses. The evidence is clear - the miraculous actions of our Lord preclude a natural explanation. There can only be two sources - it is either divine or demonic. The scribes don’t deny the supernatural power; they just redefine its source.

Our Lord then exposes the fallacy of their accusation and skewed reasoning by asking this logical question: “How can Satan cast out Satan?” It’s a rhetorical question because our Lord doesn’t wait for the answer from His attackers, He provides it. If our Lord is actually using or being used by demons, then wouldn’t such a civil war in the demonic realm lead to their ultimate destruction. That would be preposterous.

Our Lord proceeds to give the right interpretation. There is not a civil war from within but a direct invasion from without— from heaven itself. This is a heavenly war. Satan’s kingdom is not being built; it is being plundered. Someone stronger has come - God Himself. And Satan (the strong man) has been “tied up” and now his house is being plundered. Jesus the King, the Lord of all that has been and all that will come, and no one, certainly not the ruler of the demons can stand up to Him. He cannot bind Jesus—Jesus binds him and plunders his house.

Rejecting our Lord has now led the scribes to commit a sin that has eternal consequences: blasphemy against the Holy Spirit. The blasphemy or sin against the Holy Spirit is saying that Jesus has an unclean spirit. They are saying that Jesus is motivated by evil rather than good, by an unclean spirit, rather than by the Holy Spirit. It is an unforgivable sin because they are rejecting the very gift of salvation which is being offered to them by the Lord. In this sense, they are the people Isaiah warned about: “Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness” (Isaiah 5:20). This is a stunning irony.

We have reached a fork in the road: One road leads to life and the other, to death. The Pharisees charge Jesus with blasphemy (Mark 2:7, and now Jesus charges them with blasphemy. No neutrality is possible. Someone is blaspheming—either Jesus or the Jewish leaders. Which side will we take?

Thankfully the answer is given by none other than the family of Jesus. At the start of this story, they misunderstand His intentions and believe Him to be mad. They who are supposed to be “insiders” prove themselves to be “outsiders.” But at the end of this passage, we can detect a transformation, though subtle. Jesus provides the true criterion of discipleship: “Anyone who does the will of God, that person is my brother and sister and mother.”

This is where the Catholic interpretation takes an entirely different tangent from that of Protestants. For Protestants, our Lord’s words are putting Mary in her place, that is putting her down. But for Catholics, this is a clear affirmation of Our Lady’s esteemed position as our Lord’s most favoured disciple.

The clue is to be found in what our Lord meant by “family”: “who are my mother and brothers?” Who is our Lord’s true family. Once again, we are forced to decide the meaning of this word, as we were forced to decide on the source of His power - is He speaking of His earthly family or heavenly one? The Lord does not call us to simply belong to an earthly family. He comes to adopt us into His Heavenly family. For those hearing His teachings, He comes to adopt those into the household of our Heavenly Father.

So, back to our riddle. Did the Lord push aside His mother Mary when He says the words in this passage? Listen to what Jesus says, “Anyone who does the will of God, that person is my brother and sister and mother”. What does Mary say at the end of the Annunciation? “Let it be done to me according to thy word … according to thy Will!” Mary is the only one who declares so freely and openly that she is willing, and she does the will of God the Father. There can be no better candidate who meets this criterion of discipleship. So, it’s true that in one sense, our Lord is putting Mary “in her place”. It just happens that her “place” is as His mother not just by virtue of blood but more importantly in faith.

A slice of bread does not make a complete sandwich. You need two slices, two perspectives - one as a starting point and another as an ending. The truth of the matter is that sometimes we do behave like the family of Jesus at the beginning of the story trying to take charge of our lives by taking charge of our God. But this is a lie, the very same lie sold to our first parents which caused them to be expelled from paradise. We have to learn the painful lesson that no one can take charge of God. He is in control. He is the One who subdues, not the one who is subdued. It is we who must be subdued, who must submit willingly and lovingly to His will. Mary provides us with the perfect example of this. Only then, can we attain our true identity as members of God’s heavenly family and “that when the tent that we live in on earth is folded up, there is a house built by God for us, an everlasting home not made by human hands, in the heavens.”

The Perfect Sacrifice

Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ Year B

Many a young child’s dream and ambition of becoming a doctor had been dashed by one simple fear - they were haemophobic. Not “homophobic” but “haemophobic”, the fear of blood, wounds and injuries. So, if you happen to have this sad condition, today’s feast and its readings, if you had really listened and paid attention to every word, may make your stomach churn. What unites all three readings is the mention of blood and bodies? Today’s feast is definitely a bloody affair!

Why is blood and a corpse involved in today’s feast? It would be stating the obvious that we are speaking of the blood and body of Jesus Christ since this is the proper name of this feast. But to understand why our Lord would sacrifice both His Body and Blood, we would need to understand two concepts in the Bible, that of sacrifice and the covenant.

The idea of sacrifice arises from the first and the highest duty of man, which is to hand himself over, to surrender, to submit himself to God. This sacrifice involves two parts - first, an interior and invisible offering of ourselves to God; and second, this offering must be outwardly and sensibly signified. In other words, one cannot sacrifice by merely intending it and making a mental offering to God. This must be matched by an external sign which signifies and makes visible that internal sign. This is fundamentally the basis of our sacramental theology - outward sign of inward grace.

What the Pharisees were guilty of and which our Lord condemned was that they had confined their sacrifices to outward show but lack the interior disposition necessary to make a true offering of oneself. Virtue signalling is a modern term coined for this. Today, the tendency is reversed. Many modern Christians argue that good intentions are enough and we should disregard external rituals and practices which are considered showy and frivolous. This would explain why so many Christians have abandoned the Holy Mass and even removed the altars from their sanctuaries.

But, for the Jews, the shedding of blood and the immolation (or killing) of the animal was necessary for the atonement of one’s sins. This was not just something which man cooked up in his sadistic blood thirsty mind but was in fact commanded by God. According to Hebrews (9:22), “Without the shedding of blood there is no remission.” By the very act of offering and giving these animals over to death, men acknowledged that they themselves were deserving of death because of their sins; and in this action, they expressly admitted, that did God will to judge them as their sins deserved, He could in justice inflict death on them. These poor animals would literally be the “scape goats” that take away the sins of the world. But the sad truth, as Hebrews tells us, is that these animal sacrifices could not remove the stain of our sins, nor could they reconcile us with God. A far greater and more perfect sacrifice was necessary.

Before considering that far greater sacrifice, it is necessary to look at another purpose of such blood sacrifices. Blood and sacrifice were also needed in the sealing of covenants. Ancient peoples did not just resort to lawyers and their penmanship to enact pacts with each other. Pacts and covenants were sacred affairs and to make them lasting and their breaking almost impossible, the gods were invoked to not only stand as witnesses to these agreements between mortals but to also be a party to them.

So, from the very beginning, the patriarchs entered into covenants with God by making animal sacrifices - Noah, Abraham and Moses just to name a few. The Mosaic covenant which we heard in the first reading required that the blood of the sacrificed animals be sprinkled on the altar, the tabernacle as well as the people. Just imagine the climatic scene in Stephen King’s Firestarter, where the protagonist Carrie is drenched in pig’s blood. In fact, everything that is to be used in the ritual sacrifice had to be cleansed with blood, not water. Can you picture a more bloody scene than this and happening in the sacred Temple of all places? With the use of blood in the sealing of the covenant, God, in essence, was declaring He would give His life if His promises were broken. There could be no greater encouragement to believers, since God is eternal and can no more break an oath than He can die.

All of these things were only “copies,” or “shadows,” of the better and more perfect covenant to come. The lives of animals could never remove sin; the life of an animal is not a sufficient substitute for a human life. The blood of bulls and goats was a temporary appeasement until the final, ultimate blood covenant was made by Jesus Christ Himself – the God Man. In the second reading, the author of Hebrews tells us that “the blood of goats and bulls and the ashes of a heifer are sprinkled on those who have incurred defilement and they restore the holiness of their outward lives; how much more effectively the blood of Christ, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice to God through the eternal Spirit, can purify our inner self from dead actions so that we do our service to the living God.” Furthermore, Hebrews adds this claim: “His death took place to cancel the sins that infringed the earlier covenant. The shadows became realities in Christ, who fulfilled all of the Old Testament blood covenants with His own blood.”

We often forget that the Eucharist is the sign which signifies the new covenant of Jesus, and because it is a covenant, it also makes demands of us. Whenever we partake of this sacrifice and covenantal meal, we are declaring what Moses did in the first reading, but in a far more intense and firmer way: “We will observe all the commands that the Lord has decreed.” This becomes a real challenge to your average cafeteria Catholic, and there are many who fit this label. What is a cafeteria Catholic or using a metaphor closer to home - an economy mixed rice Catholic? A cafeteria Catholic is typically defined as one who picks and chooses what Catholic teaching he wants to believe. But the truth of the matter and a bitter pill to swallow, is that Catholics are not free to choose which teachings to obey. The faithful must give “a religious submission of the intellect and will” to the teachings of Christ and His Church. First and foremost, would be the faithful celebration of the sacraments of the Church according to their proper rubrics (rules) and not just adapt and make alterations which suit the celebrant’s preferences. It is hard to justify when claiming that one values Christ but chooses to ignore or reject what His Church teaches. Eschewing cafeteria Catholicism might satisfy our appetite temporarily, but only the full banquet prepared by the Lord can fill our souls.

Central Mystery of Faith

Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity Year B

Today we celebrate Trinity Sunday. On other days in our liturgical calendar, we primarily celebrate the mystery of the life of Christ, His Incarnation, His ministry, His passion, death and resurrection and the impact this has on the Church and her members, in particular Mary and the saints. But today, we celebrate the mystery of who God is — the Most Holy Trinity. It is one of only two dogmas that actually have a feast day in the liturgical calendar. The term “mystery” is appropriate for the celebration.

I hate to do it but whenever I’m asked a question of clarification about the Most Holy Trinity, transubstantiation or the Incarnation, I would start with my standard curt reply: “it’s a mystery.” Though, this may appear to be a brilliant deflection and avoidance of answering the question directly, I can presume that it must sound awfully frustrating and condescending to the enquirer. But it is not my intention to deflect or avoid and I’m hardly trying to be condescending. I would proceed to explain what a mystery means in its theological context. It’s hardly Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew or Agatha Christie stuff which I am talking about. A mystery of faith is of a different category entirely.

When the Church refers to a teaching, a dogma, as mystery, she is not referring to something which is hidden from our knowledge - it is not some esoteric secret. In fact, mysteries of faith are part of divine revelation - their secrets have been revealed to us. But when the Church describes something as mystery, she is making the point that this truth cannot be known to us independently of such revelation from God. Our natural faculties including our intellect would not be able to arrive at this conclusion without God Himself having revealed or shown it to us.

And so it is with the dogma of the Most Holy Trinity. God is so far above us that we can never fully understand Him. We mortals would be incapable of knowing that God exists as One but in three distinct persons if this has not been revealed to us through Sacred Scripture and Sacred Tradition. In fact, the dogma of the Most Holy Trinity is not just one example of a mystery among many. The Catechism of the Catholic Church declares: “The mystery of the Most Holy Trinity is the central mystery of Christian faith and life. It is the mystery of God in Himself. It is therefore the source of all the other mysteries of faith, the light that enlightens them” (CCC 234). It would be ironic if we wish to delve into the meaning of other mysteries of faith and yet deliberately choose to ignore the central mystery of our faith just because it is the most inexplicable and most likely to give us a major headache.

There could be two major mistakes we are prone to make when considering the Most Holy Trinity as a mystery, even though it is uniquely described as the “central mystery of Christian faith and life.”

The first is to treat the dogma as a fascinating but abstract concept, a cosmic Rubik’s Cube that challenges us to fit all the pieces into their place through elaborate, brain-twisting moves. What might begin as a sincere desire to understand better the mystery of One God in three persons can be a dry academic exercise. If we’re not careful, the Trinity can become a sort of theological artifact that is interesting to examine on occasion, but which doesn’t affect how we think, speak, and live.

The second mistake is to simply avoid thoughtful consideration of the nature and meaning of the Trinity. The end result of this flawed perspective is similar to the first, minus all the study: to throw up one’s hands in frustrated impatience, “Well, it doesn’t make any sense. I don’t see what it has to do with me and my life!” While many Christians might not consciously come to that conclusion, the way they think and live suggests that is, unfortunately, their attitude.

Far from being a distant concept remotely removed from our everyday lives, it is fundamental to our identity as Christians. In a sermon given in the early 1970s, Joseph Cardinal Ratzinger (later Pope Benedict XVI) wrote of how “the Church makes a man a Christian by pronouncing the name of the triune God.” This is what our Lord wishes to communicate in today’s passage as He commissions His disciples with this mission: “Go, therefore, make disciples of all the nations; baptise them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teach them to observe all the commands I gave you.” The baptism that takes place is to be done in the name of the Most Holy Trinity.

Although the word “mystery” implies a certain distance, it involves an intimate encounter. A relationship would remain shallow if the parties are not willing to open themselves to the other. As some people would argue, there should be no secrets between lovers. The reason why God would unlock and reveal a mystery to us is because He loves us and wishes to engage us and wants us to enter into a relationship with Him. Through this relationship we come to know Him and by knowing Him more and more, we get to deepen our relationship with Him. This knowledge, admittedly, is not exhaustive but engaging. It draws us closer to the One who can never be fully known. It is a relationship of love. Just like the more you get to know someone you love, the more the person is revealed to be a mystery.

Now that we know His motivation is love, but why would God bother to reveal Himself to us? That we might have Eternal Life. And what is eternal life? It is actually sharing in the supernatural life of the Blessed Trinity. How can we share in a life which we have no knowledge of? Impossible. That is why, the more we come to know God, the more we wish to enter into a deeper communion with Him.

Far from being abstract or of little earthly value, the Most Holy Trinity is the source of reality and the reason our earthly lives have meaning and purpose. Because God is, we have a reason to be. Because God is love, we are able to truly love. Because God is unity, we are able to be united to Him. Because God is three Persons, we are able to have communion with Him. This is the reason why this dogma is the central mystery of faith.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus once wrote, “Above all guard for me this great deposit of faith for which I live and fight, which I want to take with me as a companion, and which makes me bear all evils and despise all pleasures: I mean the profession of faith in the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit.” (CCC 256). We may not completely grasp the height and the depth of this great mystery but what St Paul wrote to the Corinthians helps us to embrace this mystery and relationship: “For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love” (1 Cor 13:12-13). May we guard our belief in the Triune God with our lives. And may we better know the Most Holy Trinity, so that “we may love Him, serve Him and be with Him in paradise forever”.

Life in the Spirit

Pentecost Sunday Year B

The Catholic Charismatic Renewal has undoubtedly been a great gift to the Catholic Church in recent times as it has brought about a revival and renewed enthusiasm of faith among Catholics, often going against the mainstream trend of declining church attendees and vocations, cooling of devotional fervour among the faithful and over rationalisation of the clergy. Many a priestly or religious vocation and person deeply committed to lay apostolate would have attributed the seeds of their call to the renewal and the work of the Holy Spirit.

However, there is a danger of confining the work of the Holy Spirit to mere external signs in the vein of what took place at Pentecost which is recounted in the first reading - visible and tangible manifestation of the power of the Holy Spirit and the display of the charismata - the charismatic gifts of speaking in tongues and miracles. A deeper look at the work of the Holy Spirit will necessitate looking at the long-term fruits of the Spirit working in the life of a Christian. St Paul gives us this invaluable tool of discernment in the second reading. As we were reminded in a recent course on exorcism and spiritual warfare, the devil and his minions can imitate the charisms in that they can suspend and bend the laws of nature and our hunger for the spectacular, but only God and His Holy Spirit can plant the hidden fruits of spiritual grace in our lives and bring about our sanctification.

St Paul gives a full list of works of the Spirit and their opposites, the works of the flesh, that is, the works of natural, unreformed and selfish behaviour. Christ has sent His Spirit so that our behaviour may be completely changed, and so that we may live with His life. The works of the flesh are not merely the gross, ‘fleshly’ distortions of greed, avarice and sexual licence, but include also such failings as envy and quarrels. Paul’s list is a useful little checklist to apply to our own way of life. The desires of self-indulgence are always in opposition to the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are in opposition to self-indulgence: they are opposites, one against the other; that is how you are prevented from doing the things that you want to.

What is self-indulgence and why is it the greatest threat to a life in the Spirit? Self-indulgence, simply put, is desire for pleasure. If we look carefully at people today and modern society in general, we see immediately that they are dominated by the passion of love of pleasure or self-indulgence. Our age is pleasure-seeking to the highest degree. Even in spirituality, so many seek to experience an emotional high in prayer rather than do the hard work of building virtue. Human beings have a constant tendency towards this terrible passion, which destroys their whole life and deprives them of the possibility of communion with God. The passion of self-indulgence wrecks the work of salvation.

According to the Fathers of the Church, self-indulgence is one of the main causes of every abnormality in man’s spiritual and bodily organism. It is the source of all the vices and all the passions that assault both soul and body. St Theodore, Bishop of Edessa, teaches that there are three general passions which give rise to all the others: love of pleasure, love of money and love of praise. Other evil spirits originate from these three, and subsequently “from these arise a great swarm of passions and all manner of evil.” St John of Damascus makes the same point. “The roots or primary causes of all these passions are love of sensual pleasure, love of praise and love of material wealth. Every evil has its origin in these.” Since love of money and praise include the intense sensual pleasure derived from wealth and glory, we can say that self-indulgence gives birth to all the other passions.

The antidote and cure to this predilection to sin is living a vibrant life in the Spirit. St Paul assured us that “If you are guided by the Spirit you will be in no danger of yielding to self-indulgence, since self-indulgence is the opposite of the Spirit, the Spirit is totally against such a thing.” Paul does not only list down the bad fruits which come from the spirit of self-indulgence but also provides us with a list of nine fruits of the Holy Spirit: “love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, trustfulness, gentleness and self-control”. Notice how self-control is listed last instead of first even though we may assume that self-control is the clearest antidote to self-indulgence. And yet, love is listed first. The reason is that love always seeks the well-being of the other rather than oneself, and if there is no love even in the ascetic practices of our faith, we are merely empty gongs and everything we do, even if it has the appearance of a virtue, is self-serving.

St Paul understood that the early Church whom he was writing to is made up of baptised Christians, who have died and been reborn with Christ and have received the Holy Spirit who descended on the day of Pentecost and is still a battleground of spiritual warfare between the spirit of indulgence and that of the Holy Spirit. If that were not the case, he wouldn’t have warned his audience about this nor would our Lord give us the power of the Spirit to forgive sins if every member of the Church was a perfect living saint devoid of sin. It is precisely, because we continue to struggle with self-indulgence that we have to constantly allow the Spirit to fortify us and strengthen our resolve to be holy and faithful to the Lord.

When our Lord appeared to the disciples in the Upper Room after His resurrection and greeted them with the gift of peace, it did not mean that their lives would now be secured and immune from trouble, conflict or even sin. Peace is not the absence of something but rather the presence of someone, our Lord Jesus Christ, who continues to work through His Church by the power of the Holy Spirit, forgiving sins, healing wounds, regenerating persons, and redeeming them from the world and the life of sin. The Church, as the third-century theologian St Hippolytus affirmed, is “the place where the Spirit flourishes”. The Church is the dwelling place of the Holy Spirit, the Spirit animating and bringing to life and holiness its members through the Word and sacraments, the ministry of the ordained (our bishops, priests and deacons), the various gifts and charisms of the faithful of every rank, the varieties of religious orders and ecclesial movements that express the Spirit’s power and anointing.

Today, we remember how the Risen Lord had breathed His Spirit on the apostles and on all of us: “Receive the Holy Spirit!” The Spirit comes to each one of us as a gift but also as a challenge to the ongoing conversion of our heart and mind. As the source and giver of all holiness, we implore the Spirit to keep us in grace and remove those artificial obstacles, habits and ways of thinking that prevent us from living fully in and for Christ. As St Paul writes in the Letter to the Romans, our baptism in Christ calls us to live no longer by the flesh, by the material things or selfish desires of this world, but to live according to the Spirit (Rom 8:5).