The Loftiest Title

Solemnity of Mary, 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.”

How can it be, that a human being, the Blessed Virgin Mary, becomes the Mother of God?  Why would the Church, or to be more precise, the Holy Spirit inspire both St Luke to record the event of the Visitation and St Elizabeth to utter these words, ‘Mother of my Lord’? The easy answer is: God willed it so, He willed to be born of a woman. But here comes the technical answer: We hail Mary with such a lofty title in virtue of her role in the plan of salvation which Saint Paul so beautifully summarised: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman… so that we might receive adoption as sons.” To acclaim Mary as the Mother of God is to acclaim Jesus Christ as the Son of God, God made man. The title of Mary is actually Christological. To deny one would be to deny the other.

Objection to this lofty title is not something new or which arose from the Protestant Reformation. In fact, objection to the title "Mother of God" arose as  early as the fifth century, due to confusion concerning the mystery of the Incarnation. Nestorius, the Bishop of Constantinople, was the major inciter of this controversy. He argued that Mary gave birth to Jesus Christ, a regular human person, period. To this human person was united the person of the Word of God (the divine Jesus). This union of two persons, the human Christ and the divine Word, was "sublime and unique" but merely accidental. The divine person dwelt in the human person "as in a temple;" a kind of divine ‘possession.’ Following his own reasoning, Nestorius asserted that the human Jesus died on the cross, not the divine Jesus. As such, Mary is not "Mother of God," but simply "Mother of Christ"--the human Jesus. Sound confusing? It is, but the result is the splitting of Christ into two persons and the denial of the Incarnation.

The matter was finally settled in the Council of Ephesus in the year 431. The Council condemned Nestorius and officially declared the faith of the Church as this: that Jesus is one person, with two natures--human and divine, united in a true union. He has a divine nature from all eternity and in time taking a human nature from Mary. Second, the Council affirmed that our Blessed Mother can rightfully be called the Mother of God. Mary is not Mother of God, the Father, or Mother of God, the Holy Spirit; rather, she is Mother of God, the Son, Jesus Christ. The Council therefore came to this conclusion by virtue of this simple syllogism:  Mary is the mother of Jesus. Jesus is God. Therefore, “Mary is the Mother of God.” Thus Mary was accorded this grand title not for reasons of sentiment or piety, but as a bulwark against heresy and a safeguard for the Truth of the Incarnation. Mary protects both the humanity and the divinity of Jesus. Today, when the divine motherhood of Mary is being challenged, we need to recognise that more than her dignity is at stake – it is our belief in the Incarnation and in the divinity of Christ that is potentially at risk.

The Church rejoices that the human role in the divine plan is pivotal. The Son of God comes to earth, appears in order to redeem the world, He becomes human to incorporate man into His divine vocation, but humanity takes part in this. If it is understood that Christ’s “co-nature” with us is as a human being and not some phantom or bodiless apparition, that He is one of us and forever united to us through His humanity, then devotion to Mary also becomes understandable, for she is the one who gave Him His human nature. She is the one through whom Christ can call Himself “The Son of Man” without ceasing to be the Son of God.

Having considered the theological controversy of this title, there is another subtler problem which the Church has to address in defending the titles of Mary. The Church, more than ever, has to justify the need for such honorifics and titles, in a culture that treats these things with suspicion and disdain as they are deemed offensive to both the virtue of humility and the egalitarian ideals of democracy. Our Archbishop Emeritus has often been the target of slanderous speculations that he covets titles of honour conferred by the government on public personages. Let’s set the record straight. The lofty title of Tan Sri, the highest honour to be accorded to a civilian citizen, is actually accorded to him in his capacity of being a visible face of the Catholic Church in Malaysia. In conferring such a title on the primate of the Church in Malaysia, it is actually the Church which is being recognised and honoured.

Those who generally criticise titles being conferred either on the living or the saints may really be labouring under a deeper hatred for authority. Wishing to rule themselves, to free themselves from the Sovereign authority of Christ even as some of them refuse to refer to Him as "Lord," they desire the extinction of all distinctions – between God and man, between the hierarchical church and the lay faithful. To accomplish this, at least in the "theological" sphere, it was necessary to create a "flat" deity, a one-dimensional "god" to whom all creation was little more than a huge, bland "soup" - a mixture of beings with no strata, no hierarchy, no authority, no royalty and, ultimately, no virtue. With no superiors, no Saints and no degree of spiritual excellence, with the disappearance of distinction and hierarchy, we finally also witness the vanishing of humility and obedience. In an accurate and filial understanding of Christianity, the proper veneration of the Blessed Virgin by way of the reverence shown to her glorious titles, is one of the most elegant examples of acknowledging the order superimposed by God on His Creation. The recognition of these titles places us in a balanced, proper relationship with the Sacred, by allowing us to exercise humility while still being able to enjoy our dignity as the Adopted Sons and Daughters of God.

Finally, 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”

The Genealogy of Jesus

Christmas Vigil 2016

Of all the ways to start a best seller, this isn’t one of them. “A genealogy of Jesus Christ, the son of David, the son of Abraham…” followed by a long list of names, most of them unpronounceable… Yawn. It’s likely many would have doze off before reaching the end. It’s no wonder that this passage is one we tend to overlook. Many, including priests who have the benefit of choosing the shorter version, would be inclined to skip verses 1 to 17 and go right to verses 18, which says, “This is how Jesus Christ came to be born.” We just don’t know what to do with it. So why does Matthew begin the Christmas story with a genealogy?

Genealogies were significant ventures in the past because they were ways people stayed connected. In most eras of human history and in different parts of the world, family names and family histories were integral, living factors in people’s lives. In scripture, the genealogies were not only devices which sought to compress centuries of human history into a single paragraph but more importantly served to demonstrate God’s faithfulness to his people in every generation, a faithfulness that remain intact in spite of humanity’s sinfulness.

Genealogies meant a great deal to the Jewish people too. Knowing your genealogy was important to a people who cared about maintaining their identity. Genealogies were important to show that they were part of the Chosen race; it was a prerequisite qualification for temple priesthood; and finally, it served to support the cause of royal claimants to the throne of the ancient monarchy of Israel. That’s exactly why the genealogy of Jesus is so important: it proves that he is descended from the unbroken line of Abraham and the David. The genealogy of Jesus serves as a kind of provenance, a certificate of origin. But in the usual ironical twist of the ordinary, we encounter a surprise ending: after detailing this whole illustrious line of ancestors (with a few questionable characters thrown in for good measure), it became clear that the line is broken at the very end. Joseph is indeed a direct descendant of David and Abraham, but Jesus is not of his issue!

The beginning of the Christmas story in Matthew has several important lessons for our generation too.

First, the genealogy, by connecting the birth of Jesus to human history, seeks to present this event as a new beginning for creation. It doesn’t take a genius to notice that the word ‘genealogy’ and ‘genesis’ have a common root, which means beginning. Here St Matthew deliberately wants us to begin reading his book with a sense of recalling the past. He wants to take us all the way back to the beginning and see his book, beginning with the birth of Jesus Christ, as a fresh start and a new beginning. Matthew is saying in the first line of his gospel that this world has two beginnings. The first one took place a long time ago in Chapter 1 of Genesis when God created the heavens and the earth, and everything was good. But we know how that story ended. Man has yearned ever since to correct the fatal mistake of his forefathers and undo all the damage that sin has brought to the world. The good news which St Matthew announces on this night is that the birth of Jesus does exactly this. Christ is the new beginning.

The original creation, which is damaged, flawed, and broken, is now being restored and transformed in the person of Jesus Christ. And so for all of us who are longing for a fresh start, and who are longing for everything in this world to be put right, the birth of Jesus is what makes this possible. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come” (2 Corinthians 5:17). The birth of Jesus is a new beginning for all of us, and for the whole world.

Second, the birth of Jesus also proved that God fulfills his promises; in particular, He will go to ridiculous lengths to keep his promise to save us. From the moment of man’s fall, when Adam and Eve sinned by disobeying God, God has set into motion this great plan to bring about humanity’s redemption and salvation. We hear this promise reverberating through the centuries as humanity and Israel plodded along. The only one way to redeem man was to provide a substitute, not just any sacrificial animal, but a perfect man, a perfect sacrifice that would take the place of sinful man. And, through Jesus, God gave the whole world a substitute. That’s why Matthew makes it clear by giving us this genealogy that Jesus is the Son of Abraham, the promised sacrifice. But God has also promised his people with a king. Jesus is that king because this messed up world of ours is in need of a ruler who will undertake this cosmic clean up and reclaim the universe for God’s glory. In, Jesus we see the fulfillment of the promise made to David that his descendant will reign forever.

The fact that God keeps his promises is great news because it means that God will work through ridiculous circumstances to save his people. He will spare no effort to save us, because God always keeps His promises. There comes a point when we are tempted to cut our losses and call it quits. But not God. No matter how unfaithful the Israelites were, no matter how hopeless things seemed, no matter how impossible it was to keep going, God never abandoned them, God kept going. The genealogy becomes an account of God’s sublime faithfulness. Through wars, famines, betrayals, slavery, exile, and turmoil, God is going to make sure that Jesus comes.

And that brings me to my final point. When you examine some of the names listed in this genealogy, you would certainly come to the conclusion that God will work through ridiculous people to accomplish his will. Thus the genealogy highlights that the birth of Jesus includes us all. Most of us are embarrassed of and do all within our power to sugar-coat the narrative, conceal the skeletons in our closet, the black sheep of the family, the shady characters that sully the pristine purity of our family tree. But here in this genealogy, St Matthew lays it bare and sets out a family line that hides nothing and reveals everything. Listed among the list are illustrious patriarchs that figure prominently in the Old Testament, kings, and persons of power and position. But the list is not re-edited to weed out the questionable characters.

Included in the list are four women. What is significant here was who these four women were? Why are they mentioned and not others? We have Tamar, the prostitute who tricked her father-in-law into incestuous union to ensure that she could continue the line of her husband; Rahab, another prostitute who was the ‘Matahari’ of her days, betrayed her own people and sheltered the enemy spies; Ruth, the grandmother of David, who was a foreigner, a Moabite, who seduced her employer and married him; and then we have Uriah’s wife, the woman involved in David’s scandalous adulterous affair and cover up and the mother of Solomon. So in this list you have great people, but you also have people with a past. The genealogy leaves a paper trail of men, women, adulterers, prostitutes, heroes, and Gentiles open for public scrutiny. Right from the start, Matthew is telling us that Jesus is immersed in the gritty and seamy side of fallen humanity. No matter who you are, people like you are already part of Jesus’ story. Right from the start, God chooses the most sinful, broken, and unlikely people to be his players and actors in His divine drama of salvation. Man’s wilfulness, sinfulness and brokenness cannot hinder the purposes of God. That’s great news.

So enduring a torturously long reading of the genealogy wasn’t simply a waste of time. This is no boring prelude to the exciting stuff that’s going to come later. In fact, this is story-telling at its best. Right from the beginning, St Matthew wants us to understand that the birth of Jesus marks a new beginning, it demonstrates the fulfilment of all of God’s promises, and finally announces the good news that Christ’s coming is for all kinds of people, saints and sinners alike. As we continue to keep vigil and await the moment when we remember the birth of that wonderful baby in Bethlehem, let us take in this amazing picture of God’s plan of salvation, a plan that he seeks to fulfil against the odds, a plan that refuses to be waylaid by human failing and weakness. Let us on this night, join this wonderful story. It’s a time for a fresh start; it’s time to start believing that God has not abandoned you because he always keep his promise; and finally it’s time to realise that this story includes you, no matter how unlikely a person you may be.

Nomen est omen

Fourth Sunday of Advent - Year A

In many cultures, choosing a name for a child is of paramount importance. Hopefully a meaningful name is chosen that the child can live with for the rest of their lives. Choose a wrong name, and your children may end up hating you for the rest of their lives. Often parents consider many things when choosing a name for their child. The choice may be to honour a family member or a close friend, or in admiration for a famous person. The Church’s tradition of naming a child after a saint has often guided our choice, but today, many young parents are often misguided by resorting to the names of celebrities, the new saints of our modern secular pantheon. The naming of a child is beautifully ritualised in the introductory dialogue for the reception of a child during the first part of the Rite of Baptism, where the priest always begin by asking the parents, “What name have you given your child?” Of course, this beautiful rite is purely ceremonial as the name of the child is often printed and stuck to the child’s clothes.

There is a Latin maxim that explains the significance of naming: Nomen est omen; The Name is a Sign. Therefore, a name is more than just a simple accolade or moniker intended for identification, a kind of serial number. A person’s name sometimes, mysteriously, is a sign or omen of what is to come for that person. To name a child is a great privilege and the name carries the hope and promise for what the child will bring to the world. In the culture of the ancient Middle East, a person’s name was essential to personhood. Names are more descriptive in the Hebrew and Greek then they are in English. They often refer to the character, purpose, etc., of the one being named. Your name identified you as an individual, a member of a family or a tribe, a freeman or a slave. Names were often given as representations of the hopes and dreams of the parents or even of recognition of divine assistance. Children were given names by their parents, which were significant to the circumstances of their birth or the destiny of the child.

Today, the Christmas Child whom we are expecting receives a name. The name given to Jesus was not chosen by Mary and Joseph. Although it would usually be right for a father to choose the name of son, as in the case of John the Baptist, this was not to be so in Jesus’ case because as the text indicates, Joseph is not the biological father of the child. Jesus receives his name from On High. His name was chosen by God, His true Father and told to his earthly mother and foster father before the child was born. In fact, long before the child was born in the cave of Bethlehem, God, His true Father, had already named him for us through his angels and prophets. In the Book of the Prophet Isaiah, we read, “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isa 9:6)

But perhaps, the most beautiful name is the first name by which he is known – “Jesus”, our English rendering of the Greek, which is in itself the translation of the Hebrew ‘Yeshua’ or ‘Joshua.’ The significance of God’s choice is evident in the name. The Hebrew name of Jesus means ‘The Lord saves’ (CCC 430 – ‘God saves’) or simply ‘Saviour’. Similarly, the word, ‘Christ’, is a Greek translation of the Hebrew word, ‘mashiach’, which means ‘Anointed One’ or ‘Messiah’. In either language, his full name, ‘Jesus Christ’ means ‘Saviour, the Anointed One.’

The significance of his name was understood by his early disciples and followers. His name meant that he was anointed by God to bring salvation to the Hebrew people. His name, Joshua, was more than a reference to the ancient hero and judge, Joshua, who led the Hebrew people into the Promised Land. But Jesus here is far greater than Joshua of old. His name meant that he would save the people again, but not with military power. This Joshua would save the people by restoring them to the covenant between God and God’s people, the covenant made with Abraham by God. Jesus Christ was the anointed one sent by God to lead the people into a new salvation. This Messiah would lead the people into a renewed spiritual relationship with God free from oppressive power of sin. When God’s angels told Mary and Joseph to name the child Joshua, God had a special plan for this infant. That plan would be revealed gradually over many years.

Jesus did live up to his name. The little baby grew up to be the Saviour of the world. He saved us from our sins by taking them on himself, carrying them to the cross, and dying for those sins. The one who was “conceived by the Holy Spirit” and “born of the virgin Mary” went on also to suffer under Pontius Pilate and be crucified, die, and be buried. That saving death was shown to be saving when this same Jesus rose from the dead, thus showing that his death was sufficient to pay for all sins and thereby remove the sting of death. Forgiveness and life come with the death of Jesus, now risen and victorious over death, and that equals eternal salvation for you and me and all who trust in his saving name. He is Jesus—the Lord who saves.

What’s in this name of ‘Jesus’? Everything. To the believer, it is the most beautiful Name in the world because He has saved us from their sins. To the sinner, lost in sin and darkness, this Name pierces that darkness and sin with a message of hope and salvation. He shall save His people from their sins. And that is why the Catechism of the Catholic Church reminds us that “the name of Jesus is at the heart of Christian prayer. All liturgical prayers conclude with the words "through our Lord Jesus Christ". The Hail Mary reaches its high point in the words "blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus." The Eastern prayer of the heart, the Jesus Prayer, says: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner." Many Christians, such as St. Joan of Arc, have died with the one word "Jesus" on their lips.” (CCC 435)

The name chosen by God for this infant born in Bethlehem is a message of hope for God’s people. God has not abandoned humanity. Despite the hardship and sorrow of earthly life, God’s saving grace is always at hand to provide hope, courage and strength for the present and for the future. Yes, friends, this Jesus is your Saviour. His name gives it away. His name, Jesus, gives away all the gifts he has to give you: Salvation. Rescue from sin, death, and the devil. And a safe haven forever in God’s kingdom. In his name, all prayers are made and answered.

Nomen est omen. The name is a sign. The name is Jesus, a sign that this child would be your Saviour. It is with such confidence that St Peter can confidently exclaim that “there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved”(Acts 4:11) and St Paul declare, that “God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Phil 2:9-11)   What a name! What a name, indeed!

We are called to bear witness of God's love

Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe 

I guess a sense of unworthiness is probably something most of us experience at some time or another. We may feel unworthy for a particular task, unworthy of another's trust, unworthy of another's love. And that's not surprising. We know our failings and our weaknesses better than anyone. I guess this sense of unworthiness is most apparent in the area of our relationship with God. There is awkwardness when confronted with God’s invitation. Why would God choose me? Why me? I don’t think I have it in me to respond to his call, accept his invitation and be a witness to his immense love.  But this hesitation to heed the call of discipleship may have less to do with genuine humility than it has to do with a rather selfish, narcissistic and self-serving cultural influence. We can all recognise the self-centredness of our contemporary culture, a culture that constantly believes that we are self-sufficient and that it all begins and ends with “me”. It’s a culture that makes us believe that you can’t achieve or get anything unless you work for it, or unless you deserve it, or unless you’re born with it. It’s a culture where personal merit counts for everything.

Here is the good news. And trust me, it is good news: God’s love and choice is not about personal merit. It's not all about you. You are loved and chosen in spite of the fact that you don’t deserve it. We are all that lost sheep that the shepherd goes in search of. Now... could that take the pressure off a little? Yes, it can when we come to recognise that the call of discipleship, the call to witness to the love of God is often too heavy for any man or woman. That is why it is sheer humility that recognises that we can accomplish nothing without Divine Assistance, without being propped and held up by grace itself. It is a recognition of the truth, albeit a painful one, that Christ actually doesn’t need us. It may not sound like it, but that's Good News. Why? Because none of us are capable, on our own, of fulfilling the good works that God has called us to. We can't make it on our own, and if everything relied upon else, it'd be a disaster. Instead, we need Him. We - priests and laity alike - need to turn over everything to Him, holding nothing back, and entrusting all to the Holy Spirit.

If our perpetual sense of unworthiness makes us question God’s choice, how much more could we question the choice of Juan Diego, the seer of Guadalupe, whose feast we celebrated two days ago. Why would God grant this singular privilege of witnessing the Marian apparition to this simple Aztec peasant, a new convert to Catholicism, whose simple faith was nourished by the most basic of catechesis? In fact, Juan Diego himself was keenly aware of his unworthiness when entrusted with the mission of delivering Our Lady’s message to the bishop, “I am a nobody, I am a small rope, a tiny ladder, the tail end, a leaf.” “I beg you to entrust your message to someone more known and respected so that he will believe it. I am only a simple Indian whom you have sent as a messenger to an important person.”

Without refuting this, but recognising his humility, it was Mary who addressed him lovingly as “Juanito, Juan Dieguito”, "the most humble of my sons", "my son the least", "my little dear". “My dearest son, you must understand that there are many more noble men to whom I could have entrusted my message and yet, it is because of you that my plan will succeed.” Yes, there were certainly many other more credible, more qualified candidates to witness to our Lady’s favour. And yet it was to this “little one” that found favour in Mary’s eye.

In Juan Diego, we indeed see the example of one who has been called and chosen to bear witness to God’s love. Such love is truly gratuitous, it is unconditional and unmerited. The lesson provided in the choice of this simple witness is that a true gift or giving is not to be based on receiver’s merit or else it is a reward: It should not be based on the condition of recipient’s worthiness but of the willingness and generosity of the giver. In fact God, through our Blessed Mother, chose to grant this favour to Juan Diego, though he was unworthy of it. That in itself is testimony of the depth of God’s love.

But if the choice had nothing to do with Juan Diego, what part did he play? What part can we play in this whole divine saga of God choosing us to be his witnesses. Here is the truth, a truth that has been spelt out throughout the pages of Sacred Scripture and across the Christian centuries in the life testimonies of saints, confessors and martyrs: The act of giving always create choices or conditions: the acceptance or rejection. Receiving requires unconditional acceptance; you can have it if you will accept it. You can’t have it if you reject it. And so we have the prophets, the apostles, the saints and martyrs – they were presented with the choice of either accepting or rejecting God’s choice of them. And they chose it, as did Juan Diego.

Often, it's when we are at our lowest, when we have failed, when we are most acutely aware of our weakness, that the Lord comes to us and works his wonders. It is to the lost sheep that the Shepherd comes in search of. And it's then we have to trust in him, to launch out into deep water, knowing that it's not our strength or our talents that matter, but his. St John Chrysostom reminds us that as long as we are sheep, we overcome and, though surrounded by countless wolves, we emerge victorious; but if we turn into wolves, we are overcome, for we lose the shepherd’s help.” At every mass, we utter the act of humility when the Body of Christ is lifted up, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed.” And at every mass, we witness the great miracle of his love – the Eucharist!

St Paul was undoubtedly speaking of the likes of Juan Diego, when he wrote,  “God chose what is low and despised in the world ... so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1 Cor 1:28,29). It takes a long time for most of us to realise our true stature before the Lord. And that is why, from time to time, God lifts up a saintly person, one like Juan Diego and invites us to hear Him say with Jesus, the Son of Mary, "I give praise to you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for although you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned you have revealed them to the childlike." Mt 11:25

I’m sure that many of you are aware that St John Paul II named Our Lady of Guadalupe, or Our Lady of the Tepeyac Hill as the ‘Star of Evangelisation.’ And the main thing for that title is because of what happened afterwards; so many conversions took place. Till that time, Christianity was seen as a foreign religion and tool at the hand of the invading colonialists. But after the apparitions to St Juan Diego, thousands of Indians began flocking everyday to the missionary centres seeking baptism. According to records, some priests had to baptise as many as six thousand people a day. This evinces that conversion is always the work of God, not that of men. We are merely poor instruments who bear witness to his Love.

Today, we continue to invoke the prayers of Our Lady of Guadalupe, the Star of Evangelisation, we pray for the grace and the courage to bear witness to God’s immense love. And if there is still anyone out there who feels intimidated, who still feels fettered and weighed down by a sense of unworthiness, that we are not good enough or could never measure up to God’s demands, well let’s remember St Juan Diego – a living proof that you need not be someone important, eloquent, well-educated, talented or good at public speaking to be a witness of God’s love. The fact that you are not all these things and yet God has chosen you is proof enough of the message you’ve been commissioned to proclaim.

The God of Hope

Third Sunday of Advent - Year A

So often we have expectations of what life is supposed to be or what this life is supposed to provide to us but we are disappointed.  What are we to do? The most common answer would be to go in search for another solution.

The Bible is full of stories of persons who struggle with unmet expectations. Take for an example St John the Baptist whom we hear about in today’s gospel. Due to his courageous denunciation of Herod’s adulterous liaison with Herodias, John the Baptist was thrown in prison. In that lonely confinement, John heard of the “works of Christ.” He sent a message to Jesus, asking: “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” John was at a crossroad: should he settle with Jesus, the less than promising Messiah, or should he start looking all over again? Had Jesus not fulfilled the expectations John entertained? Had the Baptist hoped that Jesus would be a different kind of ruler, and perhaps usher in a political regime?  Or was John the Baptist struggling to back up what he had said about Jesus? All these could be real possibilities.

John had preached about the Messiah's kingdom coming with power and justice and baptising with fire and the Holy Spirit. In fact, the Baptist kept harping that a greater One is coming; a stronger One, One whose sandal he was not worthy to untie. John the Baptist created very high expectations in the people.  But instead of an explosive charismatic fire-brand sort of a figure, Jesus came across as a fizzled-out firecracker. We are presented with an image of a pacifist rather than a rebel leader, preaching a message of meekness, powerlessness, vulnerability and forgiveness. This was not going to go down well with the constituents who had grown impatient with the yoke of Roman imperialism. Unable to reconcile the contradictions and imprisoned in his thoughts, John may have doubted his own preaching. Perhaps, as he now sits in prison, John himself may have begun to doubt whether he had backed the wrong man and had wasted his entire life for a foolish cause. And so he sends a delegation to either confirm or dispel his suspicions.

Jesus then gives this reply which makes allusions to the signs of the Messianic age as prophesied by Isaiah: “Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor; and happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.” These are words of assurance, not only for the Baptist as he prepares to meet death at the hands of Herod, but also for all generations. Even though the way of discipleship will be exceedingly difficult and sometimes we are tempted to give up when our personal strength gives out, we will be sustained by the words of Jesus – “the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and deaf hear.” No matter how bad things may seem, no matter how reality falls short of our expectations, no matter how dark the situation may appear, we are confident of the victory won by Jesus Christ.

The miracles cited by Jesus can be read on multiple levels. The prophecies in the Old Testament are not just simplistic predictions of an age filled with miraculous magic shows, but rather they are part of a wider drama in God’s plan of salvation.  As the drama reaches its climax, evil is finally defeated and the Messianic Age, or the Kingdom of God is established for ever.  Jewish expectations generally thought in terms of a Wrathful God raining down fire on Israel's political enemies, namely Rome in the first century, thus leading to their defeat. It would be clear from the content of Jesus’ preaching that this wasn’t part of his master-plan. Jesus pointed out the other half of the equation.  The battle was on a vaster scale – a cosmic conflict between the Kingdom of God and the forces of evil. Thus, the miracles served to demonstrate this. In themselves, they were the first glimmers of that kingdom, the defeat of suffering and pain. 

As history would demonstrate, the defeat of Rome proved not to be a military defeat, but a spiritual defeat.  Christians did not rise up in armed rebellion to overthrow the Roman Empire; they proved victorious, however, by converting the hearts of their enemies and persecutors. The Kingdom of God, therefore, is not a political entity, nor is it some future post-apocalyptic kingdom, but the rule of Jesus in the hearts of Christians.  It is the Church Invisible. Jesus was a Messiah who would show his people how to obtain spiritual freedom – a freedom ever more important than political freedom. And he would do so gently and firmly, with the spirit of Love. He came to show the Jews that God is a God of mercy, not of anger or destruction. He came to bring salvation, not political emancipation.

The temptation still lingers among the faithful as to whether God will answer their prayers and choose to intervene; and if He seems to delay, or not meet up to our expectations, will we then lose hope in him in our waiting. But this season of Advent reminds us that our fundamental duty as Christians is to ‘wait’ for the Lord. The word used for “wait” suggests earnestness that God can and will do something with this situation and that we are looking forward to what lays ahead. The Prophet Isaiah reminds us that “…those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary.” (Is. 40:31). When dissonance happens between what we want and what God seems to be give us, what should I do about it?  Should I tell God, “Adjust to my expectations”? Should I look for another Saviour? Of course not! We need to align ourselves to God’s will, not Him to ours. 

In waiting for the Lord, let us never lose heart but hold on to the promise of Christ – “Happy is the man who does not lose faith in me.” We need to allow Jesus to walk out of the shadows of our expectations. Confronted with so many who have become indifferent to religion and faith, it is futile and fruitless to add our complaints to the voices of discontent, disappointment and frustration. God’s master plan for the salvation of the world will always be bigger than our tiny little agendas. Advent reminds us that we must constantly open ourselves to the broader vision of faith and hope that allows us to take in a glimpse of that plan; this will be our true source of joy – knowing that God’s thoughts will always be above ours and His ways will always be far better than any effort we can muster. It is a joy that can only come in trusting in a God that will always exceed our expectations!

God's Masterpiece of Mercy

Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception 

The context of today’s feast is found at the very beginning of the Bible. It is the story of the Fall of Man. Today’s first reading narrates the consequences of the Fall, the effect of original sin. The fall seems to take place quickly with no resistance at all. Neither Eve nor Adam raise so much as one word of protest or argument against the serpent. They appear to be easy prey for his cunning attack and wicked logic. Although Eve seems to have been the initiator and the more prominent character in the Fall, Adam’s sin was the more culpable. Eve, at least, recalled God’s instructions. Adam conveniently ignored that fact and took the fruit from Eve without a word. If creation speaks of order of authority where the chain of command descends from God to Adam to Eve and then to creature; the Fall reverses the divinely established authority. Now the creature instructs, Eve obeys and soon Adam follow suit. God’s command, however, is totally ignored.

The story ends on both a sad and happy note. None of the participants assumed responsibility for their actions and no one repents of their sins. They ended up blaming each other. That’s the sad part of the story. But the happy part of the story is that God did not abandon them to their sin. 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. Written into the very fabric of the story of the Fall is the story of the cure.  Sin will not be the end of man’s hope, but the starting point. Sin does not slam 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.

That is why any discussion of God’s mercy must begin with the story of sin. In dealing with the sins of men, God’s mercy is revealed. In forgiving the sins of men, the mercy of God is manifested. 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 offence 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, 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 why that the Holy Father has chosen this day as the start of the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy last year. Mary, the Immaculate Conception, the new Eve, is God’s greatest masterpiece of His mercy. It is no coincidence that the Hebrew word for “mercy” or “rechem” comes from the root word for womb, thus speaks to us of the connexion of mother and child. In Mary, we get to see what humankind would look like without the Fall, without Original Sin, without the curse. “Mary” as Pope St John Paul II wrote in his encyclical, Dives in Misericordia, 9, “is the one who experienced mercy in an exceptional way.” 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.

The mystery of the Immaculate Conception is the expression of the first act of the heavenly Father's mercy in Mary's regard. Mercy is something we never deserve and we have not earned it in the least. It is an act of absolute gratuity. This is why we can see in it the Father's mercy in its pure state. We see a faint reflection of what happened to Mary in a parent’s love for a child. A child is loved by its parents not because the child has “earned” it, or deserved it, or even asked for it in any way. Rather, the parent’s love comes right from the start, a completely free gift, just because the child is the parent’s own child. That is human mercy “par excellence”, and yet this human mercy pales in comparison to the mercy of God.

Mary is a fitting image of God’s tender loving mercy and kindness. Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI tells us that “in her, God has impressed his own image, the image of the One who follows the lost sheep even up into the mountains and among the briars and thornbushes of the sins of this world, letting himself be spiked by the crown of thorns of these sins in order to take the sheep on his shoulders and bring it home.” 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.

Mary, conceived without sin, Pray for us! 

Advent starts with Repentance

Second Sunday of Advent - Year A

The secular world has begun celebrating Christmas; if you haven’t already notice. In some malls, the tinsels and Christmas trees came up as soon as the Deepavali decorations were taken down and in some places, even before they were stored away. Yes, the store decorations have been up for some time and there are Christmas (as well as “holiday”) parties on our social agendas during the month of December. Perhaps, the only people that seems altogether insulated from this and who zealously work to resist this are the ones found in Church.

In spite of the festive mood, the Church obstinately seems to hold unto a wet blanket sort of a demeanour, one which deliberately tries to dampen our celebrations. Instead of a celebratory atmosphere, there is an air of austerity during this period. Everything seems toned down to the bare minimum. Take for example, the Mass during this season, we immediately note a less festive setting.  Fewer floral arrangements, if any, adorn the church.  There’s a better than fifty per cent chance you’ll hear some unfamiliar medieval sounding hymn (again, not sung in a particularly festive manner) then a Christmas carol many of us had been eagerly waiting to hear and sing since the beginning of the year.  We don’t get to sing the Gloria either during the opening Rites.  The liturgical colour for vestments is purple as in the penitential season of Lent (or a funeral). Isn’t Advent a run up to Christmas and shouldn’t it therefore be proximate preparation for this most joyous celebration of the year? Isn’t this sober mood overdone?

Changing popular customs, especially in connection with preparation for Christmas, have diminished appreciation of the Advent season. Something of a holiday mood of Christmas appears now to be anticipated in the days of the Advent season. As a result, this season has unfortunately lost in great measure the role of penitential preparation for Christmas that it once had. Advent was originally a penitential season, not a period of pre-Christmas frenzied shopping, frivolous caroling nor drunken partying. 

No, Advent is about repentance. That is why today, we hear the story of how John the Baptist went into all the region around the Jordan, proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. His ministry resonates with the call of the Prophet Isaiah, “Prepare the Way of the Lord, make straight his paths.” And this is what we are about in Advent. In Advent we are preparing for the coming of Jesus.

Repentance. Let’s pause for a moment and think about this word, which is so alien to our times, so completely counter cultural. What does the word Repentance mean? Repentance means putting God in the first place in our lives and making sure that everything else finds its rightful places in our lives under God. Repentance means letting go of our own will, in order to follow the things that God wills for us. It means turning away from sin and all rebellion against God, in order to be obedient to God and to follow him in all that he wants from us. Repentance means owning up to our sin, our human frailties, our fears, our inner hurts and entrusting all these to God’s mercy and compassion. In this way we become free of sin, from fears, from hurts and they cease to have power over us. This allows us to walk in the way of God without carrying loads of baggage.

Repentance therefore is not a one time thing. It is a process that goes on for a lifetime. Little by little we orientate ourselves ever more perfectly in God’s love for us. Repentance is about returning our gaze to God, changing the direction of our life in order to face, to see and receive our coming salvation. Repentance means knowing our need of God. In turning our lives around, we come to recognise that our self-sufficiency is inadequate and that we need to cooperate with God in our own salvation.

But talk of repentance makes modern-day Christians nervous. In fact, the preaching of repentance is one of the main reasons some people stay away from the Church. We hate it when the homilies seem to hammer sin and seemed bent on making us feel guilty. We rush to assert that Jesus isn't really like that, he came out of love to help us rather than judge us. This explains why repentance is such a rarity today. It’s because many have become numbed to the voice of their conscience. So many are lost because they have lost the sense of sin. One of the most popular myths of our age is that if you can claim to be a victim, you're automatically sinless. Today, we would hide behind the disfunctionality of our childhood and society, and choose to blame someone else for our actions, rather than to face up to our own sinfulness. 

But our penitence is not the penitence of those who have no hope of forgiveness, but of those who have been redeemed by the dying and rising of Jesus the Lord. Thus our penitence is life-giving and not death dealing. Penitence is not the result of a guilt-ridden neurosis but the general consequence of humble admission of responsibility. Repentance is indeed the necessary doorway to the spiritual life, the only way to begin and the only way to grow in spiritual maturity. Anything else is foolishness and self-delusion. Only repentance is brute-honest enough, and joyous enough, to bring us all the way home.

So as we continue our journey to Christmas, we need to repent of our comfortableness with sin.  Repent of our self-centeredness, which makes Christ and His Church one of the lowest priorities in our lives. Repent of worshiping our idols of popularity, materialism and power – these have become our new religion.  Repent of our all-consuming dedication to the shallow, temporary things of this world, and of our casual attitude toward Christ and the demands he makes of us. We need to come out into the wilderness where God reforms and transforms His beloved People – on His terms and not our own. Avail yourself to the very reason Jesus came as a Child to Bethlehem: he come down to be among sinners. Yes, but he came to call us into the Kingdom of Light. So prepare the Way of the Lord!

Waiting Vigilantly

First Sunday of Advent - Year A

Today, being the First Sunday of Advent, the first Sunday in our Liturgical Calendar, the Church once again proves to be paradoxical and counter-cultural. We speak of the end right at the very beginning, a clear reminder that what sometimes may appear to be the end, such as death, may actually be the beginning. This also helps us to keep in mind that all things come to an end and that our lives are rushing to this climatic moment in the history of salvation. The gospel stresses the suddenness and unexpectedness of this moment. The fundamental message here is the need to be ready at all times. It is futile for Christians to waste time calculating when the Day will arrive. Therefore, you also must always be ready, for the Son of Man is coming at an unexpected hour. We should always be living with this keen awareness that the End may just be a breath or a heartbeat away.

Since, Christ’s coming and the End is sudden and unexpected, how would I ever be sure that I’ll be properly dressed for the occasion? The truth is that I can never be certain. This is when the second reading, St Paul’s letter to the Romans, throws necessary light on my predicament. One of the crucial features of Paul’s strategies in all of his exhortations was to generate very strong and potent imageries in the minds of his hearers and readers. Here in this passage, St Paul uses the image of clothing, dressing and nakedness to stress the fundamental duty of every Christian, who is called to live in accordance with their dignity as children of God. My preoccupation with being ‘dressed up’ at the moment of my demise is actually misconceived and a distraction from a graver matter – being ‘dressed’ in Christ – or ‘putting on the armour of Christ’ or being ‘clothed in Christ.’

The clothing metaphor symbolises the identity and character of its wearer and it is hence universally understood that believers are being exhorted to adorn themselves with this identity in the world in which they lived. To put on the Lord Jesus Christ means that the Christian is to be cloaked, clothed, garmented with the character, the disposition, the attitude, the habits and the virtues of Jesus Christ. That is why we are called ‘Christians’ – a Christian is a ‘little Christ’ or ‘Christ-like.’  A Christian is revealed and distinguished by the nature of the “clothing” of honourable and righteous behaviour, which is the “armour of light”, that is, the Lord Jesus Christ. To put on Christ means throwing off the putrid and tattered garments of sin and darkness, in order that one may adorn oneself with the sturdy armour of light. It’s putting to the death the old self and putting on the new man that is continually being renewed in knowledge. Therefore, the most important duty as the Day of the Lord draws near is to live as children of the light, beautifully adorned in the robes of Christ, who dispels the darkness of sin and death.

Advent is a time of waiting. But how are we to wait? It is important to note that this kind of waiting is not waiting passively. On the contrary, waiting for God is an active waiting. It requires not that we do nothing, but that we do only what we can do. Waiting actively means not trying to do God’s work for Him. For those who faithfully waited for God’s defining intervention in liberating Israel from its woes, God broke into the world in a new and unexpected way. The Word became flesh - that was never expected to be part of the deal. Active waiting requires profound humility – we must know our limits. We cannot set the timetable, we cannot determine the action plan, we cannot dictate the solution. Which, in turn, requires slowing down, listening and making ourselves vulnerable to God’s will and plans. Therefore, waiting makes us keep in step with God’s timing, to prepare us for what He wants to give us in life, and to sift our motives.

Active waiting requires us to do exactly what Jesus tells his disciples today, “Be on your guard, stay awake, because you never know when the time will come.” Our Church year begins with this Gospel that makes a call for vigilant waiting, since the time of the Lord’s coming is uncertain. Notice here that Christmas has a firm date, but the Lord’s coming into our life and death, into the life and consummation of the Church does not. It is as if, the Church, through the liturgical year, provides us with this constant caution and exhortation, that Advent could be at any time, at any place, and on any occasion. And so we must always be on our guard, we must always be awake, because we will never be able to predict when the Lord will come and where we must give an account of the time and opportunities that have been entrusted to us.

We are in the time between Jesus’ first and second comings and Jesus has told us to watch and wait, doing the jobs he has given us to do. As we do unto others as he did unto us; when we give food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, give clothes to the poor and visit those who are sick or in jail; as we make disciples of all nations, we are working and waiting for Christ’s return. We may not know the date, time or circumstances of his return. But one thing that we can know from the scriptures -  Jesus will return, and like the servant in the parable, his absence must not lull us into forgetting about the master and what he wants us to do, but to actively wait and be prepared for whenever that moment of his arrival might be.

So, let us wait with great expectancy and hope. The work of the kingdom of God, the work of the Master has been entrusted to you and me, his servants. And he expects us to be faithful servants. There is little point in worrying and fretting over when the master will return. Neither should we be lulled into a complacency that would dull our sense of readiness for his return. The most important concern we have is that we faithfully carry out the work he has given us to do so that when he does return he will find us faithfully working on those tasks he has given us. As faithful servants, we must “wait.” Yes, we must “wait,” for to wait is the mark of obedience, the expression of humility, and the sign of our willingness to do the Master’s will.

Christ the King

Solemnity of Christ the King - Year C

This week is the last Sunday of the Liturgical Year. We continue to witness the juxtaposition of the themes of ‘life’ and ‘death.’ Each year begins liturgically with birth and ends with death. At the beginning of the liturgical year sits the beautiful Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord, Christmas, the King is born. Today, being the last Sunday of the liturgical year, we witness the death of the King on the cross. But his death is really the culmination of his ascension to glorious throne of the universe. How could the ugly cross be mistaken for a majestic throne? Over the centuries, the cross as the symbol of our salvation has been fashioned not with a bloody corpus on a piece of ordinary wood but with jewels. Precious gems and gold spoke to the faithful of the victory Jesus had achieved over sin and death and of his reign as king of heaven and earth that had been established on the unlikely throne of the gibbet. Make no mistake that the precious ornamentation is not designed to hide and sanitised the horror of this instrument of torture and execution. The jewel encrusted and gold plated crosses that adorned our worship are meant to reveal and manifest its true meaning.

Today we are invited to stand at the foot of cross and witness this truth. By their portrayals of Jesus’ passion and crucifixion, the evangelists, especially Luke and John, underscored the fact that Jesus went to his death, not as a defeated victim but as victorious crown prince, not as the last act of sad dramatic tragedy but as the culminating scenario of a well planned love story. By means of the threefold taunt or mockery that comprises the heart of St Luke’s crucifixion scene, he highlights the saving power of Jesus on the cross. All three taunts provide us with different appellations for Jesus: that of the leaders, “…he is the Christ of God, the Chosen One;” the soldiers, “King of the Jews,” and finally the unrepentant criminal, “… the Christ?” By an ingenious twist of irony, St Luke has organised his narrative so that the enemies of Jesus are his very confessors and the theological interpreters of the saving event of his dying!

The plaque with the charge that hung above his head on the cross becomes the proclamation of his ascension, “This is the King of the Jews!” In Jesus, the charge of his ‘crime’ is a profession of faith and an act of allegiance in the Lord. Finally, in the dialogue with the repentant thief, the only one who recognised Jesus’ royal dignity, we see the final act of affirming his kingship. The good thief asked Jesus to remember him when he came into his kingdom. He was looking to a future reign, but Jesus handed out the royal pardon immediately. Jesus was king even on the cross, welcoming people into his kingdom and not waiting until he was enthroned in glory. In this way Jesus shows that he is indeed a king, though he reigns from a bloody cross rather than from a majestic throne. In the story of Jesus, kingship is recast. The miracle lies in the fact that God shares the potential hopelessness of the human situation, but does so as king, as the source of our hope and life. Jesus took his wounds to heaven, and there is a place in heaven for our wounds because our king bears his in glory.

Christ Our Lord is our King. He is the King of all individuals and all nations. He is the final Judge, the Highest Court of Appeal, and he will ultimately come to Judge the living and the dead. Today, our voices must not just reach the rafters of the Church but must resound to the ends of the earth, Our King is not dead! He is risen! Long Live Christ the King!

Let us never forget them in death

All Souls Day

When discussing the greater conception of the Church under the doctrine of the Communion of Saints, the Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, has been traditionally described in a threefold manner as the Church Militant, the Church Suffering and the Church Triumphant. 

The saints and angels in heaven compose the Church triumphant, because they have gained the crown of victory. The souls in purgatory compose the Church suffering, because they still have to expiate for their sins before they can enter heaven. The faithful on earth compose the Church militant, because they have to struggle ceaselessly against the enemies of their souls, the world, the flesh and the devil. But there is only one Church, one Mystical Body of Christ, because its members are united by supernatural bonds, incapable of being severed even in death, with one another and with Christ, their Head, thus resembling the members and head of the living human body. 

Today, on All Souls Day, the Church reminds us of our duty to pray for the dead. St. Augustine says: "Prayer is the key by which we open the gates of heaven to the suffering souls." The Church teaches us that just as we love and respect our living brethren, so do we love and respect those of them who have departed this life. We express our love for our departed friends and relatives through prayer. Death and burial cannot sever the Christian love which united the living with those once living and now deceased. We pray for the faithful dead not because we believe that God's mercy can only be triggered by our intercession, but because it is our life task to hold in our mind and heart those who are given to us through kindred and affinity, and as friends, colleagues and neighbours.  This task transcends the boundaries of life and death. 

Today’s feast teaches us an important truth about the Church - there is interdependence among the members of the Church – no one lives for himself alone, but for the entire body. Every good a member does perfects the whole Body, of which he is a part. We need to be always in the sync with the rest of the Body, especially with its Head, and not constantly plot to overthrow it with our own plans of Church-domination. This supernatural fellowship where all three Churches commune together, praying for one another is known as the doctrine of the Communion of Saints. The Church Triumphant prays for the Church Militant, who in turn prays for the Church Suffering.  We, the faithful who comprise the Church Militant, pray to the Church Triumphant, for their intercession and they, in turn, plead with the Lord on our behalf.  The Church Suffering cannot pray for themselves; therefore they cannot hope for the intercession of the Saints in Heaven without the Church Militant, praying in their behalf. This interplay has been described by some authors as a great philharmonic orchestra with God as its supreme maestro. It is really awesome when you think of the integral part each of us play in God’s Symphony for Salvation. Thus the doctrine of the communion of saints, though one of the least understood or known, is one of the most consoling dogmas of the Church. 

Let each of us, then, raise our prayers and offer our sufferings to the Father for the Souls in Purgatory. We know that our prayers on their behalf are beneficial to them because, no one lives alone. No one sins alone. No one is saved alone. We are all one in the Body of Christ. Therefore, let us keep ever in mind the words of St. Ambrose: “We have loved them in life; let us not forget them in death.”

In celebrating both the Feasts of All Saints and All Souls we are reminded that sanctity is the universal vocation of all men. We are destined for heaven. Even for those who are suffering in purgatory, our faith fills us with hope, because we are assured that their salvation is guaranteed. Purgatory is never a final state. The souls in Purgatory have died in a state of sanctifying grace. They will enter Heaven!

We are called for holiness

Solemnity of All Saints 

"Don't try to be too holy!" We frequently hear the following caution from well-intentioned persons as if the condition of being too holy could even lead to our damnation. Holiness as a life-goal is no longer fashionable in our society. In today’s world, holiness comes across and sanctimonious self-righteousness, and generally a tumour that has to be excised from the rest of the community, if the latter is to survive.  

The Catholic Church’s celebration of the feast day of saints, its continued practice and tradition of canonising ordinary men and women as saints, certainly goes against the tide of this prevalent trend. As opposed to the world, the Church is making this loud claim, “we love our saints!” Almost every day of the liturgical year is dedicated to a saint. In other words, during an entire liturgical year, the Church provides us with so many heroic examples of faith and holiness. We don’t seem to have enough of them. Pope Saint John Paul II, during his pontificate, had canonised more saints than all his predecessors. When asked why he did so, his reply was this: “In a world that is faithless, we need more models of faith. In a world that is hopeless, we need examples of hope. In a world that is so full of violence and death, we need shining beacons of peace.” In other words, by venerating and honouring the saints, the Catholic Church re-establishes the perennial norm for humanity – it isn’t about being bad but about being holy. Saints are supposed to be the norm, not the anomalies.

That’s who saints really are – they show all of us, not only Christians, what it means to be fully human. St Ireaneus says, “The glory of God is man fully alive, but man fully alive is man glorifying God.” But unlike the humanised version of a hero or the recent abomination of the anti-hero, these Christian heroes are mirrors which allow us to see the goodness, the greatness and the love of God. They give a face to the invisible God.

Saints are not superhuman beings. They are not angelic beings who have gotten rid of their humanity. No. The saints are fully human just like you and me. The saints are heroic because their lives demonstrate that they are fully grounded in their own humanness. They are fully human because they are in touch with human pain and suffering. They undergo pain and suffering and yet emerge victorious because they have not allowed despair to overtake them. They are living proof of the beatitudes: “How happy are the poor in spirit, theirs is the kingdom of heaven … Happy those who mourn: they shall be comforted …Happy those who are persecuted in the cause of right: theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

One of the greatest Catholic preachers in American history, Bishop Fulton J. Sheen, the father of TV evangelisation long before the Protestant evangelicals discovered this medium, used to say, that he preferred to live in times when the Church has suffered rather than thrived, when the Church had to struggle, when the Church had to go against the culture. It was a time for real men and real women to stand up and be counted. “Even dead bodies can float downstream,” he used to say, “but it takes a real man, a real woman, to swim against the current.” This is a time in which all of us need to focus ever more on holiness. We're called to be saints and how much our society here needs to see this beautiful, radiant face of the Church. This is one of those times. It's a great time to be a Christian. It is wonderful time to be Catholic. It is a necessary time to be a Saint.

For a world that has grown accustomed to sin, holiness does often seem outdated...old-fashioned. But, as Pope Benedict XVI has taught: "Holiness never goes out of fashion; on the contrary, with the passage of time it shines out ever more brightly, expressing man's perennial effort to reach God."  Make no mistake, holiness will cost something. Those who aspire to make holiness their priority in life must count it no strange thing to be mocked, ridiculed, slandered, persecuted, and even hated. And in a world where faith and religion is held up to scorn, holiness has now become the new scandal! A Christian who faithfully lives up the high calling of perfection must submit to the fate of being called fool, idealist, and a fanatic; to have his words perverted and his actions misrepresented. But this is his edge – this is what makes the Christian salt of the earth and light of world. This is also what makes his life witness paradoxically attractive to every soul thirsting for greater spiritual depth in a world that can only offer shallow lies. In all this we remember the world does not set the standards for us. In matters of spirituality, mediocrity is never an option. Only the highest standards of excellence is demanded. We follow only one standard – “to be perfect as your Heavenly Father is perfect.” As for holiness, we can never have enough of it.

Salvation has come

Thirty First Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C

Many of us feel very small – we feel that we are sinners and that we are unworthy of God’s love or attention. And so we continue to live our lives as if God does not exist. We know God exist, but he only comes out on Sunday. Throughout the whole week, we have to work and do things all by ourselves as if God isn’t there to help us. We try to acquire riches and make ourselves feel important to compensate for our low self-esteem. This was the life of Zaccheus in today’s gospel before he met Jesus. He was a tax-collector, an officer of the Roman government and thus seen as an enemy and a sinner to all Jews. Zaccheus must have really felt all alone, but to him, his wealth and his power gave him some consolation. The gospel describes him as a short man. He could have been physically short but quite likely he felt small too in terms of how he saw himself or how he thought others saw him.

Zaccheus climbed the sycamore tree to have a better look at Jesus. By climbing the tree, he thought that he could raise himself to a position that was higher than the others. We also do that sometimes. Because, we feel insecure, we try to boast or make fun of others in order to make ourselves bigger than we truly are. But like Zaccheus, this only alienates us from others. People begin to avoid us because no one likes a braggart. 

Although everyone seems to ignore Zaccheus, Jesus notices him. Jesus picks him out from the crowd and invites him to come down from the tree. Jesus reintroduces him to the community. We are created as social beings. As Christians, we must never forget our communal identity – Jesus wants us to live with each in love and peace and not as selfish and self-centered individuals. The love of Christ brings about the conversion of Zaccheus. For the first time in his life, someone takes notice of Zaccheus not because of his position or because of his wealth, but because of pure love and compassion.

This is the good news that we hear every Sunday. God loves us. Jesus loves us not because of our wealth, or our achievements, or our holiness or status in society. Jesus loves us for who we are. Jesus recognizes our goodness and our beauty even when we are unable to see it within ourselves. In the first reading, we have heard of how God loves all that exists, and holds nothing that he has made in abhorrence. For as the writer writes, if God had hated anything, He would not have formed it. God does not make rubbish. God doesn’t make mistakes.

Some of us may be ashamed of bad things that we have done in life and some have even grown to hate themselves. It is true that we are sinners. It is true that we have made many mistakes in life and we continue to make mistakes. It is true that we are not worthy to receive God’s compassion. But God loves us nevertheless. That is the love and compassion of God who is prepared to send his only Son to die for us while we were still sinners. That is our true value in the eyes of God. If we can come to recognize this – that we are loved by God and that nothing we do, no mistakes that we make, no sin that we commit, is going to change the love of God for us – then we will truly be able to experience the salvation of God. God does not withhold salvation from us. It is we who withhold salvation from ourselves by failing to recognize God’s love for us. Only when we come to believe that we are loved by God in a personal way, will conversion take place. 

Today, we hear the voice of Jesus speaking to each of us personally: “Today salvation has come to this house … for the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost.”

Patience and perseverance in Prayer

Twenty Ninth Sunday in Ordinary Sunday- Year C

Have you noticed how the existence of God either becomes apparent or is questioned during time of crises? Some people, who are practically atheists for most part of their lives, begin to mutter invocations and offer prayers that they would otherwise not do on an average day. Desperation can drive you to faith, albeit shallow. On the other hand, many good persons of faith may begin questioning the existence of God when bad things happened. “Where is God when bad things or injustice happen to innocent God-fearing people?” The question actually betrays their anger and frustration – they blame God either for being the author of suffering and injustices or failing to take corrective action. The vast majority of prayers, by believers and unbelievers alike, are often requests that injustice would be replaced by justice - that God would make wrong things right. What happens to my faith when the thing I prayed to be made right remains wrong? The so-called good God that we believe in cannot exist and allow such terrible things to happen, unless he wasn’t all that good to start with!

All of these may be boiled down to a single question: Is God just? Why does God, if he is a God of justice and a God who hate sins permit injustice in the world?  Many Christians wind up with these standard pat answers: God is disciplining us, or God is punishing us, or God is teaching us a lesson, or God’s ways are mysterious. Usually, the atheist remains unconvinced. The upshot to simplistic theology, however, is that while we expect to be punished for our misdeeds, we also expect to be rewarded for our good works. Consequently, our expectation can quickly become inflated. When we aren’t immediately showered with blessings we are often quick to complain. When believers face hard times, when their prayers go unanswered, the logic fails. Those who remain fixated on the privilege of being faithful may grow resentful, even accusatory towards their Maker. And so when bad things happen to good people many sometimes shake our fists at God and ask, “Is this how you treat your servants?”

But the parable of the persistent widow and the unjust judge in today’s gospel turns this whole issue on its head. Rather than becoming fixated on why bad things happen to good people and why good things happen to bad people, perhaps we should refocus our thoughts on something far more important. When we are constantly dwelling on how God doesn’t seem to meet up to our expectations, we often fail to pay attention to what is expected of us. God is not the one who is on trial. It is ‘we’ who are being called to account for our response, our attitude and our actions. The million dollar question isn’t ‘Why does God permit bad things to happen to us?’ but, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?”

The point made by the parable in today’s gospel is that the persistent prayer for justice is chosen by Jesus as the evidence of faith that he will look for when he returns. This seems a far cry from the kinds of things we usually assume Jesus looks for; things like a set of rules, activism, piety or a decision we once made to follow Jesus long ago. In this case, if Jesus wants evidence of faith, the question he will ask is 'did you consistently bring your requests to God in the face of the injustices of this world?'

Jesus has told a parable of persistence, of a widow -- weak in the world's estimation -- who has won a victory because she didn't give up hope, she doesn't give up her plea, and finally wins the day. But what about you and me? We sometimes become so worn down and discouraged by our lives that we stop praying, stop hoping, stop expecting God to intervene. Will we be religious, church-going unbelievers who have given up expecting an answer, whose prayers are just going through the motions? Jesus wonders. "When the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?"

One of the hardest things we face as human beings is ongoing injustice. This is especially true when that injustice is directed toward us. Why do you think justice or injustice have such a great impact on us? Why do we get incensed when we see injustice being committed? It’s in our DNA. We are made in the image and likeness of a God of justice. Yet tens of thousands face injustice, hardship, brutality, and persecution each year. When believers face these hard times, it is hard to believe that God is indeed just. It is especially disturbing when wicked people are not brought to justice. However, Jesus reminds us that the issue isn't injustice but faithfulness. God will settle accounts and bring justice. Don’t cry foul or protest God’s seeming inaction as the ‘jury is still out’ and the trial isn’t over. The real question is whether or not we'll stick in there and not give up under fire. Hang in! Pray for the Father to hear you! Don't give up, for God will not only bring justice, but he will also bring salvation and victory. The real issue is when He comes, will he find any faith on earth? Will he find any remaining faithful to their vocation to wait in trust and persevere in prayer?

We are provided profound guidance in today’s gospel as we are invited to ponder the mystery of unanswered prayer. We see in the words and action of Jesus an acknowledgement of injustice - the problems of this world are not a surprise to God. God sees our suffering, he hears our cries and he understands our pain. God is not blind to the troubles of this earth. He has not abandoned us. I see a firm promise from a faithful God in response to that injustice. And I see a call to faith expressed through prayer in response to that promise.

Patience and perseverance is necessary for our prayer life. They are the handmaidens of faith. We must continue praying even when we have become tired of waiting for an answer from God. The reason for this is simple: without prayer, giving up will be easiest option. Prayer sustains our faith and faith brings hope. I guess many of us are often tempted and feel like giving up. Like Moses in the first reading, some of you may be experiencing heaviness and weariness holding your hands up in prayer – persevering in prayer – and you feel that you have no strength to continue. Some of you may be experiencing a string of tribulations for so long that you feel that praying is useless and does not make any difference in your life. But the message of the gospel for you today is: Be patient! Wait for the Lord, for the Lord will come indeed! The battle isn’t over until you’ve exhausted the highest court in the universe (and mind you it isn’t the Federal Court of this land!). You may not be able to see or predict what’s going to happen in the future. Tomorrow may appear to be the same as today. But your patience and perseverance will be rewarded. God will surely answer us, but in his own time and in his own way. Remember, however, the real question before is this: “when the Son of Man comes, will he find any faith on earth?”

Thank you, Jesus

Twenty Eight Sunday in Ordinary Time - Year C

When we were little children, learning our manners, one of the first habits our parents drilled into our heads was the habit of saying “please” and “thank you.” And then there were the constant reminders by the adults, “Did you say thank you?” which taught you an additional lesson – it’s not enough to whisper a silent prayer of thanksgiving, gratitude has to be audible and visible. Silent gratitude isn’t much use to anyone. It’s strange how we lose sight of these important habits when we grow old.

Gratitude is not about "looking at the bright side" or denying the realities of life. It’s not saying, ‘Thank God, it could be worse!’ Gratitude goes much deeper than that. The leper’s action reveals the heart of gratitude – it is treasuring Christ more greatly and savouring his power more sweetly, the power which heals, which liberates and finally, the power which saves. In the first reading, in the story of the foreign general Naaman, we recognise that gratitude has the power to heal. But this is only part of the mystery of God’s grace. In the second reading, St Paul reminds us that gratitude also liberates. But it is in the gospel that we discover climatic apex of this godly virtue – gratitude saves.

Notice that although the nine lepers were ‘cleansed’, only one earned the accolade of being ‘saved.’ Jesus tells him at the end of the story, “Your faith has saved you.” In Luke’s context, he is making a polemical point: Only the foreigner is grateful for the grace received and that is his salvation. The others think solely of the benefits received, physical healing and social acceptance; but neglected to pursue the path of well-ness right to its very end – salvation. This is certainly descriptive of most of us who search for a cure to our disease, longevity to life, a solution to life’s problems; but ultimately lose sight of the greatest gift of all, the reason for the Father having to send his Son – our salvation

No work of God's is more worthy of gratitude than salvation. But it often doesn’t feel that way, right? Selective forgetfulness is to be blamed for this. We have forgotten that before coming to know Christ, each of us lived in a self-imposed prison of guilt, spiritual blindness and sin. But Christ not only rescued us from the power and penalty of our sins, He also lifted us to the realm of grace. He delivered us from punishment and brought glory. He defeated death and won for us eternal life. He took away the threat of hell and gave us the hope of heaven. Gratitude is therefore keenly linked with memory – memory of the grace of salvation we have received from God and who continues to complete and perfect the work which He has begun in us. Gratitude should make us sing of salvation, talk of salvation. Thanking God for saving us should be the unceasing occupation of our lips.

When we are giving thanks always for all things to God the Father, then we recognise his power and his glory. And when we recognise the power and the glory of God, we can understand our own position as His servants. We begin to approach the menial tasks that are all a part of our jobs and responsibilities with a sense of contentment rather than a sense of obligation. Imagine a Church or a parish that follows the example of grateful former leper. Imagine serving in a culture of gratitude—not a culture of obligation, or guilt, or arrogance, or exclusion, or pride.

Gratitude isn't something that should pass from our minds with the passing of a season. It's an attitude, a God-centred response to circumstances that should pervade every season of our lives. Perhaps the most difficult time to be thankful is when we're in the midst of a setback, a challenge, or a trial. When the storm comes, giving thanks is rarely our first reaction. Being thankful for adversity is never easy, but it is always right. Our faith reminds us that the difficult times are the ones in which God seems to be most at work in our lives, strengthening our weak spots, comforting our hurts, and drawing us to greater dependence. A person cannot be complaining and thankful at the same time, nor can they worry about money or health or anything while being thankful. With gratitude comes joy, hope, peace and love.

The story of the ten lepers is a wonderful story of the infinite grace and mercy of our Lord and Saviour, one who gives us good gifts, even if we have ungrateful hearts. It is also a story which challenges us to place our trust in God, to follow his commands, and to see the wonderful rewards this brings us. At every mass, we will come to the table of Christ together to celebrate the Eucharist. The word ‘Eucharist’ comes from the Greek word, “eucharistia,” (εὐχαριστία) meaning to give thanks (for the good graces we have received).  And so we give thanks not just because God has healed us, he has liberated us from sin, fear and anxiety. We give thanks because of Sacrifice of the Cross re-enacted at every Eucharist has saved us and continues to make us whole – completing, bringing together and finishing the grand work of salvation which God has begun us. And I don’t know about you, but the prospect of being made whole, being healed, being liberated and being saved is enough to make me turn around, rush back again to Jesus, and say thank you, Jesus.  Thank you so much.

Prayer, the Heart of the Church

Feast of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary

Often, many in the Church are tempted to abandon prayer in favour of activism, measuring success by what they do and can accomplish. It’s almost as if we are saying, “Jesus is gone, now it’s all up to us to save the world.” In the context of a world that is so obsessed with efficiency and productivity, one is quickly conquered by this dangerous temptation of activism, as though salvation depended upon us. The world of today is even more fascinated with activism that it has lost the sense of contemplation. Prayer is seen as a waste of time, a sign of escapism.

But prayer is the motor of mission. In fact, mission and evangelisation depends first of all upon prayer and the primary initiative of God who precedes our initiatives. All activities are empty without the necessary foundation of prayer. Without prayer, which is the soul of all apostolate, evangelisation becomes proselytism, propaganda, or a publicity campaign. The peaceful image of the Mother God, prayerfully and peacefully entreating God, therefore invites us to do the same, and to abandon our desire to right every wrong, but rather to unite ourselves with Christ, who is the world’s true Saviour.

Venerating the Mother of Jesus in the Church, then, means to learn from her to be a community that prays. As we celebrate the Feast of Our Lady of the Holy Rosary, Mary invites us to turn to God not only in need but in a persevering and faithful way. Mary teaches us the necessity of prayer, the need to be centred in prayer, and shows us that only with a constant, intimate bond, full of love with her Son can we emerge from ourselves, with courage, to reach the ends of the world and proclaim everywhere the Lord Jesus, Saviour of the world.

Mary, Queen of Heaven, Pray for us!

Our Lady of Holy Rosary, Pray for us!