Hail Mary, full of grace

Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God

A week after Christmas, most shopping malls are already over the hype that led up to that celebration. But our own Christian celebration of Christmas, however, has not ended. Though, it is the shortest liturgical season in our Church’s calendar, the Church does not hesitate to pull out all the stops to surprise and entice us with a slew of celebrations. While the world celebrates the threshold of a new year, the Church invites us to pause to consider one of the major implications of Christmas and the Incarnation: the woman who gave birth to Emmanuel – God with us. The Mass of today salutes her who in her womb bore the King of heaven and earth, the Creator of the world, the Son of the Eternal Father, the Sun of Justice. By virtue of her relationship to Jesus Christ, the Church honours her with the loftiest title possible for any human person, “Mother of God.”

And so on this first day of the New Year, the Church speaks of her the greatness of the Ever-Virgin Mary, the Holy Theotokos, the Mother of God, because she carried God within her. Perhaps, due to attacks from Protestants, we have become embarrassed of such titles being accorded to Mary or to any other human person. How could a creature be deemed as the mother of her Creator? How could a mere human give birth to God? And yet, it is precisely this preposterous belief that forms the basis for our celebration of Christmas. God did not become man in a vacuum. He did not beam himself down from the heavenly heights and materialise in human form. At Christmas, we celebrate how God chose to be born of the Virgin Mary. In order for Him to assume our humanity, the Blessed Virgin Mary truly had to give birth to God. Since Mary is Jesus’ mother, it must be concluded that she is also the Mother of God: If Mary is the mother of Jesus, and if Jesus is God, then Mary is the Mother of God. There is no way out of this logical syllogism.

Saint Anselm presents this argument in the following fashion – “To Mary God gave his only-begotten Son, whom he loved as himself. Through Mary God made himself a Son, not different but the same, by nature Son of God and Son of Mary. The whole universe was created by God, and God was born of Mary. God created all things, and Mary gave birth to God. The God who made all things gave himself form through Mary, and thus he made his own creation. He who could create all things from nothing would not remake his ruined creation without Mary. God, then, is the Father of the created world and Mary the mother of the re-created world. God is the Father by whom all things were given life, and Mary the mother through whom all things were given new life. For God begot the Son, through whom all things were made, and Mary gave birth to him as the Saviour of the world. Without God’s Son, nothing could exist; without Mary’s Son, nothing could be redeemed.”

Mary as an image of Christ, in the same way that today’s feast of the Feast of Mary, Mother of God, is less about the Mother than it is about the Son. Though, this feast seems dedicate to her, note that she is in the background not in the foreground of our celebration. Both the icon and today’s feast shows the traditional view of the Church concerning the place and essential role of Mary in God’s divine economy – his plan of salvation. She is indispensable because without her, Christ’s birth could not have taken place. The pre-existent Word could not have become flesh if not for her fiat. Christ could not have been born without her free consent. 

Therefore, whenever we offer fitting praise to Mary through Her glorious titles, we imitate the Blessed Trinity in a very concrete way. According to the gospels, each Divine Person of the Trinity has bestowed a particular title of honour on the Blessed Virgin. God the Father, through His messenger Gabriel, gives her the title "Full of Grace." God the Son, addressing the Beloved Disciple from the Cross, publicly recognises her title of "Mother", "Behold your mother". And, again, God the Holy Spirit, through her cousin Elizabeth, enshrines forever her title of "Theotokos", Mother of God. If such is the honour paid directly to our Blessed Mother by God, how can we even dare to suggest that our own poor human praises can ever be either sufficient or over-abundant? And so at the beginning of a New Year, we join our voices to Christians of every age as we lovingly invoke her titles and seek her intercession, “Pray for us O Holy Mother of God … that we may be made worthy of the promises of Christ”

God is at the centre of family life

Solemnity of the Holy Family 

Two days ago, we celebrated the Nativity of Our Lord (Christmas), Jesus Christ, the word made flesh and dwell among us. Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Holy Family. The proximity of these two feasts is intended to remind us that Christmas and the family are intimately linked. It’s easy to think the Incarnation means God took on a human body; that he appeared in human flesh. But there is much more to it than that. In Jesus, God unites himself to an entire human nature.  He fully enters into human experience, with all its peaks and valleys. And a part of that human experience, with more than its share of peaks and valleys, is family. Christ came as a member of a human family to enable us to be part of God’s family.

Now when we hear the title of this celebration, the Solemnity of the Holy Family, we are inclined to just dismiss the possibility that our families can be like the Holy Family.  The personages of Jesus, Mary and Joseph can at first seem to be too unreachable an ideal for our own family. Every family is far from the ideal because every family is made of unique individuals with their positive qualities and their negative quirks. Perhaps, especially at this time of the year, we are most intensely aware of the limitations of our family - of the various families we are a part of. Family reunions can often be marred by quarrels and misunderstanding. Selfishness, stubbornness, independence can appear to be so great that we can question the integrity of our family as a family, let alone see any real holiness there. In all families, we will witness the same interplay of light and shadow.

In our painful introspection, we forget that the name of our feast is not the Feast of the ‘Ideal Family’ or the ‘Perfect Family’ but of the ‘Holy Family’. The Holy Family was not spared the intermingling of light and shadow. The Holy Family was holy because their lives were centred on God, and not because they were preserve from misfortune and trouble. By today standards, the Holy Family would have been categorised as dysfunctional, far from the ideal. Joseph was married to Mary but is not the biological father of her son. In fact, Mary and Joseph, though publicly married, were actually living sexually continent lives. Right from the beginning, the family was condemned to wander as homeless refugees, fleeing the clutches of a power mad and blood thirsty despot. Poverty would trail them throughout their lives. According to Tradition, which is implied in Sacred Scriptures, Mary seemed to have been widowed at a young age, thus leaving her in the role of a single parent with Jesus orphaned. There is enough juicy stuff here to produce a dark satire of a movie on the Perfect Family!

The Holy Family is proof that God's greatest work on our behalf and for our salvation begins in tragedy, in misfortune, in hardship, in poverty, in silence, and always invisibly. The work of God is never done in a vacuum of imperfection. God is indeed subversive – He uses our darkest experiences and imperfections as the raw material for perfection. Within the Holy Family, we see the ‘perfect’ model for families struggling with their imperfections – the broken families, the single-parent families, the families that are struggling to keep their relationship together. Jesus truly understands what you are all going through and the struggles that you are experiencing - broken relationships, betrayals, and hurts are inevitable. But the Holy Family also gives us a picture of hope. If God is at the center of family life then no matter how big the problem may be, no matter how serious the hurts may have become, no matter how wide the chasm that has grown between individuals, the presence of God assures us that our lives are not ultimately defined by sin but by the love which God has poured and continues to pour as a balm into our lives. Holiness, therefore, is the remedy which heals, strengthens, bonds, and brings about a great measure of the peace for which our hearts so ardently long; for in holiness we embrace Christ, the new beginning of the new creation. In Christ, we get to start all over again.

The Day of Eternity invaded History

Christmas Mass during the day readings

The birth of Jesus Christ of Nazareth has split history in two so that each calendar is reckoned before or after His birth. The year in which He was born marks the period known as Anno Domini (literally ‘the year of the Lord’), and the years before that as BC ('Before Christ'). Of course political correctness has substituted AD with CE (Common Era) and BC with BCE (Before Common Era) for fear that any reference to Christ or to the Lord (certainly referring to the former) would offend the sensitivities of non-Christians. Yes, the abbreviations may have changed, but one cannot turn one’s back on the essential reason for the dating. Whether you use Common Era or Anno Domini, the date is actually still the same and the reference point is still the birth of Christ. Call it by whatever name, the Nativity of Christ still provides us with the defining moment of human history – all history before leads to it and all history thereafter is measured by it.

Why would the birth of a humble carpenter’s son in an insignificant hovel such as Bethlehem be the epicentre of such a tremor that would ring out throughout the different epochs of history? The answer is found in the passage of the gospel we just heard this mass. If the Christmas mass at night (formerly known as the Christmas midnight mass, perhaps changed because most Churches chose not to celebrate it at midnight) focused on the birth of the Saviour in history, today’s gospel taken from the prologue of St John’s Gospel speaks of his “birth” in eternity. Today’s reading reminds us that Christmas is not just another event within history but is rather the invasion of time by eternity. If last night, the Church wishes to emphasise the concrete reality of his birth, that he was truly a historical person in the flesh, this morning’s liturgy points to his divinity, the pre-existent Word. “In the beginning was the Word: the Word was with God and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things came to be, not one thing had its being but through him.” Jesus, the child born in humble state in Bethlehem, is that very same “Word (that) was made Flesh!”

“O, wondrous, awesome and salvific mystery!” as the ancient Fathers of the Church would sing. The Word was made flesh; that is, the Son of God, co-eternal with God the Father and with the Holy Spirit, became human. The One Who had no beginning took on a beginning according to humanity; the One without flesh assumed flesh. God became man – without ceasing to be God. The Unapproachable One became approachable to all, in the aspect of an humble servant. 

But Christmas is not only his birth, it must also be our birth from God with him. The Word became flesh in order to make us earthly beings into heavenly ones, in order to make sinners into saints; in order to raise us up from corruption into incorruption, from earth to heaven; from enslavement to sin and the devil – into the glorious freedom of children of God; from death – into immortality, in order to make us sons of God and to seat us together with Him upon the Throne as His royal children. The wall that separated heaven and earth is destroyed; the sword that barred the way to the tree of life disappears.

That is why we Christians measure history from this date. This is the reason why the world, even for those who continue to shun the use of the abbreviations BC and AD, continue to mark time according to this event. Today we are witnessing a prevalent culture that is generally hostile to religion, a culture that tries its best to remove any trace of Christianity from world history or even Christ from Christmas. The whole push has gotten so ridiculous that it's pathetic. It doesn’t help when we Christians seem to be willing participants of this exercise by acquiescing and even becoming initiators and collaborators of a culture that has forgotten that Christmas is about Christ. Just noticed our greetings – “Seasons Greetings,” “Happy Holidays,” and the content of our carols which seem to glorify reindeers, that iconic jolly elf that promises a Christmas bonus for being nice, and dreamy allusions to wintery weather that seems so out of place with our all-year-round tropical weather. All these are often placed on equal footing with the event of the Nativity, if not given more air time.

In today’s world there are many, including those who have been baptised into the Catholic faith, who are seeking to see where God belongs in their lives. For many, God is just an addendum. For others, He has already been expunged from their lives. But yet, there is a mysterious steering within the core of their being, often unnoticed and very seldom understood. This search is often translated into a search for identity, a search for meaning. Perhaps, they seek to understand and rekindle the faith that they have inherited.  The starting point of their search for adult faith is all too often still the abstract God of ideas and ideologies and the theological formulae of their youth.  

But until we know God in a concrete way, we will never know who we are, that’s because we are made in the image and likeness of God. We need to know God. We need to have a very personal relationship with God. God sent His Son to be born of the Blessed Virgin Mary, born in Bethlehem, so that we should know him, not just as an idea but as a real person. So that we can see in human form what he is like. And knowing what he is like, we can shrug off whatever thoughts we may have of God. Jesus shows us the face of God – his unconditional love, a love that was translated by the greatest sacrifice ever made on the Cross. God wants every soul to know him, not vaguely, not just as an undefined mysterious bazaar instinct of the heart, but to know him for who he is. That’s why he gave us Christ. To know God, we must know Christ. 

That is why Christmas is not an accident.  Jesus chose to be born in those circumstances to show us who God is.  The Christian God is not a distant much less an absent God, but a God who is present in history but who cares for and directs history. Jesus is not an idea or an ideology but a person, a person who reaches out to us and whom we can encounter in prayer.  The loving kindness of our God has appeared in the person of Jesus Christ.  On him we build our trust. 

The time may come, the time should come when someone ask of you “You believe in God, tell me what is God like?” amidst so many ideas, I hope that you have an answer to that question. And if you haven’t here it is – Christ is God – it is Jesus. Jesus is the Lord God.

Our culture needs to know who the Lord God is. Christ himself now sends us you and I to let our society know – this is the face of God – we have seen him in the mystery of the Church, we encounter him in the living word of scriptures, we have experienced him in the depths of our spiritual experience, and we celebrate His birth today. Today, if you have come here feeling a little out of place, if you feel a little distant from the Church, a little alienated from your faith. Come and receive the greatest gift God has given you – it is Christ Jesus. And you in turn can also give this gift to others. You have already received that gift at your baptism. Perhaps, it’s been put away in the broom closet, or looks a little rusty from lack of use, but know for sure that the seed of faith, this great gift of God has already been planted in your hearts and your souls. It is a great treasure just waiting to be discovered and to be harvested. May God strengthen your faith today so that you may become His joyous and courageous witnesses in the world and proclaim once again, not just on Christmas Day, but everyday, that Jesus is Lord. He is God! For in Christ, our history has been entwined with eternity!

Greatness wrapped in humanity

Christmas Dawn Mass Readings

If you had attended the midnight service you would have heard the words of the angel who announced the good news of Christ’s birth to the shepherds. The sign by which they are to identify the saviour would be this, “You will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger."

Not much of sign. Truth be told, it would actually seem to be an anticlimax for many who had awaited for Israel’s salvation. After the powerful announcement made last night with a full angelic choral presentation - a more dramatic entry would have been expected at the morning’s mass – with lots of pyrotechnics, trumpets blaring, distinguished and influential audience present to witness the event. The only witnesses of this event apart from the Holy Family seemed to have just been a disparate group of shepherds and some dumb animals in a stable. 

The discovery of the shepherd when they came to the place where the infant was born and now lay wrapped in swaddling clothes parallels another discovery made at dawn, the breaking of light after the long darkness of night – the women disciples of Christ who came early to the tomb where their master was laid were also surprised to discover an empty tomb. In both scenarios, one that comes at the beginning of the story whereas the other at its very end, story writers would have opted for a more dramatic presentation. But the lack of accouterments and frills is deliberate, at least from a theological perspective. It highlights rather than dims the profound significance of this event – the mystery of Christmas.

So what is the mystery revealed by this epiphany? Greatness is wrapped in humility. Power is couched in vulnerability. The presence of God is concealed in his seeming absence. In the Day mass for Christmas, we will hear the beautiful prologue of John’s Gospel declare, “And the Word was made flesh and made his dwelling among us.” This is the same Word , who is God for all eternity, by whom all creation was made, and who chooses to become flesh, and become a helpless child wrapped in swaddling clothes to lie in a feeding trough of animals rather than some gilded cot in a palace. “Flesh” or ‘sarx’ in Greek evokes not only humanity but also weakness, fragility and mortality. It connotes being human and mortal with all its limitations and weaknesses.

In various times and in many different ways, God reveals himself to the people of Israel through signs and wonders. He reveals himself in his power and transcendence. But in time, God reveals himself in weakness: he becomes a man – a weak child born into a poor and non-influential family, a child who will grow to be man who will be crucified, sentenced to death as a heinous criminal. He accepts the limitations of human nature and the risk of hostility and rejection.

Christ’s descent to our ‘flesh’ and our fragility is the ultimate manifestation of God’s love: it enables us to rise with him. God became weak that we might become strong. St Athanasius of Alexandria puts it beautifully, “He became what we are that he might make us what He is.” Or in a more audacious statement, St John Chrysostom declares, “God became man in order that we might become gods.” In the third Christmas preface, we hear these words, “God has become one with man, and man has become one again with God.” It goes on to say that when the eternal Word took upon himself our human weakness, he gave our mortal nature immortal value. 

So, today, we are invited to follow the shepherds to hurry to the manger of the Lord and to behold the beauty of God’s love manifested in the Christ Child. There is no need for accouterments, pyrotechnics, drum rolls, trumpet blasts and cannon salutes, just silent adoration as we kneel before our king, the Lord of all ages now wrapped in swaddling clothes. In our silence, we may perhaps hear the inspired words of an ancient Egyptian Christian who penned these words as if they were the words of Christ himself, “I became little so that in my littleness I could carry you to the height from where you have fallen. I will carry you on my shoulders.”

Majesty concealed in Humility

Christmas Midnight Mass

Christmas is one of those grand occasions where we get to hear at least four sets of readings if we attend all three of the masses for Christmas proper and the evening’s vigil mass. Moving through all four liturgies is truly a delight as you begin to discover little details worth treasuring within each mass and its set of readings. A special story unfolds which takes us along an adventure which stretches from the Old Testament: the genealogical link between the Promised anticipated and the Promised fulfilled in the first mass, the event of the birth at midnight, the visit of the shepherds at dawn, and finally the exposition of its theological significance for all eternity. 

At the midnight mass, we hear in the second reading as St Paul writes to his friend Titus, “God’s grace has been revealed, and it has made salvation possible for the whole human race and taught us that what we have to do is to give up everything that does not lead to God, and all our worldly ambitions.” The key to knowing what we must do is found in the nature of this revelation. On this Christmas night, the invisible Deity is made manifest in the visible humanity of one born of a mortal woman; the omnipotence of the second person of the Godhead condescends to the vulnerable weakness of a child; the Timelessness of the Creator is revealed in the temporal character of the history of His creatures; the Lord of the heavenly realms and hosts of angels pitches his tent among mortal men; the Glory and Majesty of God is displayed in an epiphany of humility in a stable. Today is the great Solemnity of Christmas, the great Feast of God’s Humility, the feast of God’s love incarnated, en-fleshed in the humble birth of a child in Bethlehem. Today, we encounter the God of humility in the radical humility of Christ.

The beauty of Christ’s humility on this feast day reveals as much as it conceals. He demonstrates through his own birth, the meaning of humility, which is to “give up everything that does not lead to God.” This is a necessary reminder especially when humility is no longer in vogue or respected. Instead, it is held in contempt. Humility is often regarded as a sign of weakness and even stupidity, a lack of prudence in an age that demands street wise tactics and an ego the size of a football field in order to survive. Thus, humility revealed as the pathway to God is concealed to our modern senses. Today’s world would have pooh poohed the path taken by God two millennia ago. The capacity to change and influence the world requires a whole list of factors missing from the Christmas story: wealth, power, a degree from a prestigious university, hide as thick as a rhino, success, achievement, a proven track record, connections with the right people, a magical public relations team and lots of media promotion. Juxtaposed against a narrator’s introduction of a seemingly all powerful Roman emperor who can move the various nations on earth as if they were his pawns, and a less powerful politician but still formidable provincial governor, the story of a child born to poor humble parents would seem miniscule or too trivial for the telling. But this child would be the main protagonist of our Christmas story and not the former two.

Today, the humble often go unnoticed and are deemed insignificant. They make no impact on our lives and hardly warrant a flicker of our attention. The role models of our society are not the humble, but the selfishly ambitious, the proud, the arrogant. The people that our society looks up to – businessman, politicians, sports heroes, actors and actresses, singers, entertainers – they all tend to have one thing in common: a very high regard for themselves, insatiable ego and ambition, and a great talent for self-promotion.

But let us now consider the humility of the Incarnation itself, the second person of the Trinity, the eternal Son of God, taking on humanity with all of its limitations, with all of its pain and sorrow and suffering. It is impossible to fathom the transformation Jesus endured to leave the glorious perfection of heaven, for a manger.  The Son of God gave up his honour and glory, he let go of his position, he relinquished all of the riches of heaven, in order to become one of us, in order to save us from our sins. He gave up that glory in order to become a human baby, a helpless little infant. But think of it: a baby unable to feed himself, unable to move about, to communicate. And here’s the irony of it all. He is dependent upon the man and woman he created to now take care of him. Those hands which had formed galaxies and set the stars in place, those hands that had spun the earth on its axis, now just waving around, ineffectually. The mouth that had spoken the universe into existence, now just babbling and cooing. The sovereign Lord of creation, had now become the very picture of weakness and powerlessness and inability – a little baby. Not even a royal baby, not the son of a king; not a wealthy baby, the son of money and privilege. But instead, a peasant child born to poverty and want, raised in very humble circumstances. Surrounded not by God’s holy angels and the glory of heaven, but instead surrounded by sinful, fallen human beings (with the exception of his immaculately conceived mother) and a stinking, dirty barn. But Christ’s humility didn’t end with his birth or his childhood. It continued throughout his life.

Think about it: when people are struck with a serious illness, something progressively debilitating, so that they know over time they’re going to become less and less able to care for themselves, one of the things they fear most is losing control. Becoming dependent on someone else, at first needing someone to drive them places and perhaps prepare meals for them, and then eventually having to rely on other people for the basic necessities of life – to dress them, and feed them, and bathe them. Yet Jesus voluntarily took on this kind of complete helplessness, the kind that we fear so much.

So, how do we come before him on this Christmas night? What can we offer to him who created the universe and gave us everything we possess? The answer is this: we come to him in all humility, we come to him with nothing to offer but ourselves, when we have learnt how to “give up everything that does not lead to God, and all our worldly ambitions.” Thus, the only way in which we can truly come to encounter our Lord and Saviour on this Christmas day, is to adorn the garment of humility and condescend to where he has chosen to lay his head for the night. If we want to restore Christmas to our culture, it will require more than just good intentions; it would require radical humility.  We will need to give up seats on the pews or places in line.  We will need to show grace, even when grace is not given.  We will need to humble ourselves and follow the example set by the baby in the manger, the shepherds in the field, and Mary and Joseph as they agreed to God’s plan. We need to humble ourselves as the wise men did, bowing before the young child and presenting him with gifts “fit for a king.”

Our History and Divine Grace

Christmas Vigil Mass readings 

Everybody has a history. Everybody has a story. Everybody has their own root directory. Jesus too, the son of God, the Word made Flesh, had roots. He had a history. And that history is ours too. The liturgy and the readings of the Vigil Mass for Christmas seek to situate the birth of Christ in the history of the Chosen People of God. St Matthew wrote his Gospel in large part for the Jews to prove that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah who fulfilled all of the Old Testament promises. Therefore, he begins his gospel by stating that Jesus was the fulfillment of God’s covenant to David, which promised that the Messiah would be a king who ruled over an everlasting kingdom, and the fulfillment of God’s covenant to Abraham, which promised that all people would be blessed because of the Messiah.

And so when we begin to study the names found in the Genealogy of Jesus in detail, it’s almost as if God has pulled together a rogue’s gallery. We may not know many that are on the list. But of the ones we know about, nearly all of them had notable moral failures on their spiritual resumes. For instance, Abraham lied about his wife Sarah. Isaac did the same thing. Jacob was a cheater, Judah a fornicator. David was an adulterer and Solomon was a polygamist. Manasseh was the most evil king Israel ever had. And on and on we could go. This is not a list of role models or saints. Far from it. Some weren’t saints at all. The best of these men had flaws and some were so flawed that it would have been best to expunge their names from the records of history. But Matthew’s genealogy of Jesus didn’t.

If you think the men were bad, wait till you hear about the women, four are named in this list. Matthew’s choice is perplexing. He could have chosen paragons of virtue but instead he chose the most scandalous of female ancestors, the ones whom you try to hide in the closet and blush whenever their names are mentioned.  To add to the perplexity, it is also interesting to note that when the Jews made a genealogy they normally didn’t include women on the list. These four women were each notorious in their own right. Each had a charge sheet that would make Bonnie and Clyde look like angels.

Tamar: Incest, immorality, feigned prostitution, a Gentile

Rahab: Harlotry, lying, deception, a Canaanite

Ruth: A woman from Moab—a nation born out of incest

Bathsheba: Adultery

Three are Gentiles

Three are involved in some form of sexual immorality

Two are involved in prostitution

One is an adulteress

These are serious knots in the line that leads to Jesus Christ! Yes, Jesus, the Son of Abraham and the Son of David, is also the descendant (by adoption, at least) of a whole line of notorious sinners. 

What would this serve to prove? I think there are three answers to this question.

First, no one is condemned by a sordid past. All of us have a history, we have our respective baggage, skeletons in the closet, our past records of failures and a heap full of mistakes, yet through the mercy of God, these things do not condemn us a lifetime of the same messiness. Yes, we have a history, but we also have a present and a future. The coming of the Incarnate Word, was so to divinise us – in the words of St Augustine and other fathers of the Church, “God became man, so that men may become gods. 

Second, the story points at the insurmountable splendour of grace. We may often be tempted by hubris to believe that we can accomplish things through our own efforts without external assistance, with even a certain autonomy from God. The story of Christ’s genealogy points to the providence of Grace. It is only by grace that a prostitute, an adulterer, a murderer, a fornicator, an incestuous daughter in law can become the carrier and medium of such saving grace. When you read the stories of these four women—and of the men on the list— St Matthew had not intended you to focus on their sin, but on the grace of God. The hero of this story is God. His grace shines through the blackest of human sin as he chooses flawed men and women and places them in Jesus’ family tree.

Third, the Genealogy points to the mission of Christ. The Son of man has come to seek and to save that which is lost. He began this mission by situating himself at the very centre of the history of those who were lost and who required redemption. He weaved his own history into the history of sinners in order that he may redeem that history and chart a course for a glorious future. 

We are often weighed down by the baggage of the past. The sometimes devastating impact of the past has wounded many of us psychologically and emotionally, and continues to colour our present lives not only with disturbing memories but also replays itself through recurring destructive patterns. Yet, the path of salvation is not to push the past aside, to suppress and bury it beneath our consciousness. Like the bitter old miser, Ebenezer Scrooge, in Dickens’ novella, the Christmas Carol, who was converted into a kinder and more benevolent man, we need to revisit the ghosts of our past and come to recognise that Christ, the central figure in all history, has come to lead us into the future of reconciliation and redemption. No one is condemned by his past. Christ has come to seek and to save that which is lost. Christ has come to make all things anew! A Merry Christmas! A Blessed Christmas to one and all!

Christ is our peace

Fourth Sunday of Advent - Year C

One of the greatest desires of every person is that of peace. We constantly hear this all the time. We realize that money cannot always buy happiness. We experience that conflicts and misunderstandings are part and parcel of life. But there is one thing we always hope for is peace. Firstly, it is peace for ourselves and then peace for others – our family, our society and the world.

But in world that is so filled with violence, hatred and wars, where we see conflicts occurring not only in society but also in our own families, we may start to think that peace is only a dream. we realise that though the concept of peace is easy to grasp as far as we all desire it; the dilemmas of peace are more complex, and the implementation of peace even harder. It is no wonder that many have grown sceptical that peace is attainable, a mere Utopian dream. But today’s readings assert the good news that peace is within our reach. Peace is not a dream or something utopian; it is possible. It is true that we cannot manufacture peace. But God can. Peace is possible whenever we align our purpose and will with God’s. To have peace is to trust in God. If sin, through man’s disobedience, is the cause of disharmony and disorder in the world, peace is a recovery of that order, when man submits himself to the will and plan of God. Therefore, St Augustine appropriately described peace as tranquillitas ordinis, the tranquillity of order.

Therefore, it is not ideologies that save the world, but only an unconditional return to the living God, our Creator, the guarantor of our freedom, and the guarantor of what is really good and true; and who at the same time is everlasting love. And what could ever save us apart from love? Love takes delight in truth, it is the force that enables us to make a commitment to truth, to justice, to peace, because it bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (cf. 1 Cor 13:1-13). True peace comes when we place our faith in Christ, because “He is our Peace.” True peace comes only when we embrace the truth that He is the author, worker, and perfecter of our faith. Choosing Christ does not guarantee success according to the criteria of today’s world, but ensures that peace and joy that only He can give. Peace comes when we acknowledge that God is in control and surrender to his charge.

Sometimes, it is easy to be disillusioned and to feel that peace can never be attained. I guess the problem lies with our incorrect understanding of what peace really means. Peace is not to absence or the cessation of violence and conflict. Peace is possible even in the midst of conflict. Peace is not only an external reality but something that must take root in our hearts. If there is no peace in our hearts, we can never experience peace outside of ourselves. A great deal of unrest is caused by the unrest in our hearts. There can be no rest in our hearts as long as we constantly want to have things according to our ways. The problem with wanting things according to our ways is that we are never in control of the situation. We want our children to grow up and be successful. We want them to marry good wives and husbands. But we are not in control of these things. When we don’t get things our way, we will not be happy. We won’t have peace in our hearts. The only way in which we can find peace is to allow God to take control of our lives. In the second reading, we are given the example of Christ, who came to obey the will of God the Father. When we are prepared to allow God have his ways and not our ways, then we will have peace in our hearts. It is only when we have peace in our hearts that we can become peacemakers.

A little baby that was born 2000 years ago to a poor family made a difference. In the face of so much opposition and where so much hate and violent exists, one man who spoke of peace made a difference. When so many people were unable to forgive one another for the injury that they have done to one another, a single man on a cross was able to make a difference by forgiving his executors. That man is Jesus. He is the Prince of Peace. Jesus was able to change the course of history, world events and lives of so many people without lifting a gun, starting a war or ruling a country. If today you feel that you are just one person, don’t worry. You too can make a difference. Start by allowing God to take control of your lives. Surrender your life to him and you will find peace, peace even in the midst of problems and difficulties.

Be joyful

Third Sunday of Advent - Gaudete Sunday

The Third Sunday of Advent is also called Gaudete Sunday.  The theme of joy is more pronounced this week. When you think of what makes you happy, you can come up with a whole list of things that will give you pleasure – having a bowl of ice-cream, watching a comedy, getting the latest iphone or ipad mini as a Christmas present, going to the hair dressers, doing retail therapy, playing football in the rain, witnessing your toddler take his first steps, being with your loved ones etc. But such small pleasures are usually short term, they never really last. In contrast to this, you may have heard that Christ offers everlasting joy. But the last thing that seems fun to do, even for Christians, is being a Christian. The idea of Christian joy seems somewhat vague and illusive. In fact, being a Christian can sometimes feel like a killjoy. The reason is that we often equate joy with pleasure or fun.

Today’s liturgy summons us to embrace Joy! In fact, it is framed as a commandment in the second reading. St Paul tells the Philippians, “I want you to be happy, always happy in the Lord; I repeat, what I want is your happiness.” But I guess for many of us, the message just doesn’t seem to make any sense, especially when we feel no excitement or exhilaration in our lives.  A lot of us believe that joy or happiness is equivalent to pleasure or having fun. After last week’s reminder that Advent is a time to apply the brakes to immediate gratification, deny ourselves of some of the pleasures of this festive season, mute our carols and dampen our excitement for the Yuletide season, it’s hard to imagine how Advent can be a season of joy. The solemnity of the season of Advent seems to have taken all the fun out of Christmas.

Our search for pleasures and fun, in fact, has often distracted us from the authentic pursuit of Christian joy. We have become a distracted people. Here’s the root of the problem: we believe that pleasure and fun leads to joy. What we fail to recognise is that one of the roots of the desire for pleasure is the feeling of emptiness and the pain of boredom following from it. Paul Tillich, one of the greatest Protestant theologians of the 20th century noted that “of all the dangers that threaten our civilisation, this is one of the most dangerous: the escape from one’s emptiness, through fun, which makes joy impossible”. In our culture we are conditioned to consume what we want, not what we need. This is why the endless pursuit of happiness doesn’t necessarily lead to joy. Excess prevents us from being thankful with what we have. We become insatiable. We are also bombarded by attempts to manufacture desire. Much of our culture and economy is based on gratifying desires. This becomes most detrimental to cultivating joy when the cycle of manufacturing and gratifying desire becomes an endless pursuit of happiness. The endless pursuit of happiness often lead to financial burdens that create fear and anxiety. Joy is choked out by the weeds of fear and anxiety. Some of the desire that our culture tries to manufacture is the desire to feel safe. So we are sold products that are supposed to eliminate our fear and worry. But rather than eliminate fear and anxiety, this endless pursuit merely puts additional pressure on desire for gratification.

Finally, you come to realise: Life is often not the fairytale we expect. So what do we do when happiness eludes us? Where do we go when we have run out of avenues to manufacture and pursue pleasures and fun – when the effects of drugs and alcohol wears out, when the roller coaster ride ends, when the party is over? The answer is simple - We choose joy. But here lies the difficulty, how do we distinguish true joy from mere pleasure and fun? Unlike pleasure and fun which are often selfish and self-centered, joy is always directed outward. Inner joy leads to kindness, generosity, and love. St Paul wrote to his friends at Philippi an epistle of joy in spite of the fact that the Philippians were actually under a lot of pressure. In 2 Corinthians, Paul says this about those particular churches; particularly the Philippians church, “out of their severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity”. We derive pleasure and happiness from receiving. But joy is the wellspring of giving. We see generosity at the heart of the Baptist’s preaching in today’s gospel. Three groups of people ask John the Baptist what must they do. John exhorts them to share with those who are needy, be just and fair in our dealings; to refrain from intimidation and extortion to acquire what we want and finally to be satisfied with what we have. In other words, as we await the coming of Christ, we should not be selfish or greedy and think only of our own needs and wants.

Therefore it is hard to be happy and joyful when you are greedy and ambitious. When you are never satisfied with what you have, when you are always afraid of losing what you have, when you are jealous of other’s prosperity – it’s really hard to be happy. It is only the man who has discovered God as fulfilling his every heart’s desire who will be happy. Only God can fill the emptiness in our hearts. Only God can satisfy our deepest longings. Only God can be the source of everlasting joy. I think a big part of our problem is that we often have a tendency to want to create our own joy, our own happiness. I get joy through my hobbies, my relationships and my work. Nothing is wrong with that, in fact I am glad I can find happiness in so many things, it is a great gift. But here is the irony, this kind of joy doesn’t last. I get so busy manufacturing my own happiness that I fail to desire lasting Joy that comes only from God.

Joy comes from knowing that we are God's children. As the first reading reminds us, it is the joy of knowing that God has removed the judgment hanging over our heads; it is the joy of knowing that our Lord, our Mighty Saviour is in our midst and that “He will exult with joy over you, he will renew you by his love; he will dance with shouts of joy for you as on a day of festival.” It is the joy of knowing and trusting in God’s faithfulness and love. Despite all the uncertainties and pain in our lives, our God is with us. And this God, who has been good to us, will take care of all things. That joy is not found under the Christmas tree. That joy is not found in a new dress or a new bike. That joy is not found in being the most popular guy in the class. That joy is found only at the foot of the cross. Only when we come to recognise the love of God as displayed on the cross - the Son of God who has died for our sins, only then can we experience joy, lasting joy, real joy, the joy of a forgiven sinner, one who has been redeemed from sin and death, the joy of knowing that my salvation has been won by Christ on the cross and that he will return to complete what he has already begun. In the cross we come to discover that Joy is not the absence of sorrow but the presence of God. Thus the words of St Paul to the Philippians, "I want you to be happy," represents an ever-present element in the Bible. For Christians the lack of joy is a consequence of man’s separation from God, and the presence of joy is a consequence of the reunion with Him.

Thus, when we allow the God of Joy to fill our lives with his love, joy and peace, nothing can take away these things. Life need not be perfect and our problems may not be solved, but with God as the Lord and centre of our lives, nothing can take away the joy of being his beloved sons and daughters. That may not sound like fun to many pleasure seeking individuals, but for us Christians, its wonderful news to the ears; in fact, it is Pure Joy!  

Mary, image of God's loving mercy and kindness

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception - (Opening of the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy)

Tomorrow the church celebrates the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary. It's also the day where the church starts the Extraordinary Jubilee Year of Mercy. When we speak about the dogma of the Immaculate Conception, no doubt it was only promulgated in the 19th century, but, our story begins at the very beginning, in fact, in today's first reading, the Book of Genesis, where we hear the story of man’s origins and also the origin of sin. This wonderful story of creation, though perfect in all aspects, was damaged though not completely destroyed by the ugliness of sin – man choosing to rewrite the story of creation by removing God, the Creator, from the equation. Man, tempted by the devil, let his trust in his Creator die in his heart and, abusing his freedom, disobeyed God's command. Ugliness entered the world through sin. It is aptly symbolised by Adam and Eve’s sudden realisation of their own nakedness, now seen as something bad and ugly which required masking. Thus, through the disobedience of our first parents, mankind became infected with the pandemic malaise of original sin. With original sin came the ugliness of every depravity, ignorance, and malice known to man. The beauty of Paradise was lost.

It is in the story of the Fall that we first see evidence of God’s mercy. The nakedness of man is covered by skins provided by God, so that men need not hide from His presence. Sin would bring about a curse upon humanity but sin would not have the last word. Sin will not be the end of man’s hope, but the starting point. Sin does not close the door on God’s blessings; it opens the door for His grace and mercy. Through the mercy of God, the Fall would be instrumental for God to send the final solution – The seed of the woman will bring about the destruction of Satan and the deliverance of man; sin and evil would be finally defeated.

Therefore, if we want to have a discussion on God's mercy, we must first begin with the story of sin. In dealing with the sins of men, God’s mercy is revealed. Though, it may appear that everyone in the world hopes to hear a message of mercy, many are deluded by the falsifications of sin. Unfortunately, for most people, mercy often means the denial of sin. But there can be no true mercy without Truth. The reason for this confusion is because we live in a world that denies the existence of sin. Why is that? Because sin is an offense against God, and many have cease believing in God. Therefore, if there is no God, there cannot be any sin. But we are surrounded by sin and read about it and see it in the news media every day—murder, adultery, abortion, sodomy, theft, lies and so forth. Of course, we call it by other names. We seek to normalise such behaviour and even institutionalise them.  Unless we recognise and acknowledge sin, unless we accept responsibility for our mistakes, the story of God’s salvation will make no sense to us. Those who do not acknowledge their sins see no need for God and His mercy. Only sinners require mercy.

I guess this is the reason our Holy Father has chosen this day as the start of the Extraordinary Jubilee year of Mercy. Mary, the Immaculate Conception, the new Eve, is God’s greatest masterpiece of His mercy. In Mary, we get to see what humankind would look like without the Fall, without Original Sin, without the curse. Mary is, therefore, the first to be shown God’s immense mercy, the first redeemed, the first Christian. Mary is the New Eve at the Annunciation; whereas the old Eve heeded the counsel of the serpent, the New Eve obeyed the message of God’s angel. Just as God prepared a paradise for Adam and Eve, so Mary is a “second” but more perfect sinless paradise where the Son of God dwelt nine months before his birth in Bethlehem. As the New Eve, Mary restored the relationship broken by the first Eve. If the first Eve was named as mother of all fallen humanity, the New Eve is the mother of all those born into new life through the grace in Christ. In Mary, the world comes to know that it no longer has to labour under the clutches of the curse, but we have now become recipients of God’s heavenly grace.

In this Year of Mercy, Mary is a fitting image of God’s tender loving mercy and kindness. Every day, we continue to struggle against temptation and sin. Yet, sin does not have the last word, it is Grace. He has not abandon us to our sin and to its curse. In fact, God takes what we have ruined by sin and makes it far better. He does so not because we merited it or deserved His graces. No. He gives it to us as an absolutely free gift. This is the good news which the Church wishes to proclaim in this Year of Mercy.

Advent is necessary

Second Sunday of Advent - Year C

By the closing week of November (immediately after Deepavali), any sense of Advent waiting has already been eclipsed by Santa Claus and his reindeers in the lobby, Winter Wonderland scenes dominating atria, the Tannenbaum in every corner and the list of Christmas parties invitations you’ve received. I guess many would wish they could fast forward the entire Advent season, so that we can get to the most exciting part of the month of December – Christmas! If people could have their way, many would regard Advent as unnecessary, a mere inconvenience at the least or a major wet-blanket stifling the festive mood of the season at worst. 

Why this loss of Advent as a distinct season of the Christian year? Why is Advent seen as an awkward intrusion? Perhaps it’s because, for many Catholics, our calendars are dominated not by the venerable rhythms of sacred time announcing humanity’s redemption but by the swifter currents of consumerism and efficiency. The microwave saves us from waiting for a meal to simmer on the stove, fast lanes save us the trouble of waiting in long queues to pay for our purchase, and this backward extension of the Christmas season liberates us from having to deal with Advent, that awkward season of waiting.  And so, before the last fireworks were set ablaze and Deepavali decorations returned to the warehouse, halls and malls are decked with plastic holly, crimson ribbons and fake snow. Immediate gratification has become the ultimate goal of modern man’s pursuit for happiness. The reason why Advent is ignored and so unpopular is because the season applies the brakes to the seemingly unstoppable momentum of immediate gratification. Whilst technology seems to affirm the world’s judgment that waiting is bad, the Church, through its celebration of Advent counters with this message – waiting is sacred! Advent is a proclamation of the Gospel through the discipline of waiting.

There is something penitential about the nature of sacred waiting, since penance is either the denial or the postponement of gratification not for its own sake but in order that a person may open himself unselfishly to God. One of the most important aspects of the season of Advent is its penitential character, something which is often ignored. But if we pay attention to the little details of our Liturgy, we would come to recognise this. We recognise it in the form of the purple (it’s violet) coloured vestments the priests wears, reminiscent of funerals and the sister season of Lent.  The Gloria is silenced and suppressed only to be sung once again at Christmas, as if its absence will make the heart so much fonder to worship God with the song of the angels announcing the birth of his Son in Bethlehem. We see it in the toned down floral decorations, the discouragement of festive celebrations, including marriages (although the Church does allow weddings during the seasons of Lent and Advent, priests are under an obligation to catechise the couples on the proper penitential nature of the seasons). And of course in KL archdiocese, priests make their rounds hearing confessions at penitential services celebrated in different parishes. Finally, we see it most clearly in the readings of today; readings that speak of penance and repentance in preparation for the Coming of the Lord.

The gospel of St Luke introduces the epitome of penance, St John the Baptist, who articulated this not only in his message but also in his lifestyle. In today’s gospel, we hear him preaching the message of repentance and promoting a baptism for the forgiveness of sin as preparation for the Coming of the Messiah. It is important for us to understand why this was an important part of the preparation. Sin is an obstacle to the action of God in a person’s life because it blocks God’s grace. As St Paul tells us in the second reading, our Christian goal is to “become pure and blameless, and prepare ourselves for the Day of Christ, when (we) will reach the perfect goodness which Jesus Christ produces in us for the glory and praise of God.”  The obstacle of sin must therefore be removed in order that we may attain this lofty goal. The removal of obstacles is dramatically and symbolically described in the prophecy of Isaiah as a massive engineering work, “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth…”  In other words, repentance and conversion cannot just be a superficial performance of penances. What is more important is the inner conversion which opens us to the life of grace. 

There seems to be less and less stress on sacrifice and penance. Rather, instant gratification seems to be the flavour of our times. The theme of waiting and the penitential character of the season of Advent should be restored in order that the necessary correction be made in our orientation to prepare for the two comings envisaged by Advent, the first Coming at Christmas and the second Coming at the end of time. Sacrifice corrects our orientation and directs us to worship God and not self. 

The waiting that comes with Advent and the call to penance should never be understood as taking the fun out of Christmas. Merely, lighting a few pink and purple candles will not, in and of themselves, trigger a renaissance of patience or a yearning for the presence of Christ. Neither am I suggesting that you should dismantle your Christmas trees and mute every carol until Christmas morning. But the message of Advent must not be lost in our preoccupation with the accoutrements of Christmas. We are called to wait. We are called to repentance. We are called to conversion. And there is no contradiction between waiting and repentance that forms the basis of our Advent observation and the joy of the Christmas celebration. In fact, the former heightens and deepens the experience of the latter. When we do away with the necessary spiritual preparations of waiting and repentance, and replace it with an extended version of Xmas, we are dooming ourselves to an emotional and spiritual anti-climax, a big let-down after all the festive hype and carolling, and Christmas parties that precede the actual celebration of Christ’s birth. Let us pause in order that we may take in the full view and have time to reflect, recall our sins and remove the obstacles that prevent us from meeting the Lord. Let us pause that we may savour the beauty and flavour of Advent. Let us pause that we may join our longing with that of Christians of every age who desire to see the salvation of the Lord.