It ain't over till Easter morning returns

Easter Vigil 2016

The American colloquial phrase - It ain’t over till the fat lady sings- has often been cited to indicate that one should not be in too much of a hurry to predict the outcome of some activity until it has actually finished. The final outcome may yet surprise us. Now you may be wondering what the fat lady has to do with this evening’s celebration? 

Those sitting through today’s unusually long liturgy for the first time, may also be wondering – when will it be all over. As Latin Rite Christians, we are often used to our almost painless not-more-than-one-hour services. Many Catholics are absolutely baffled at how their Eastern Orthodox counterparts can sit through a three to four hour service on a normal Sunday. Well, tonight’s liturgy comes close to matching that. In the Lectionary, seven Old Testament readings, one New Testament and the gospel have been selected for the Easter Vigil Service, not counting the lengthy Rite of Baptism that follows. You may be interested to know that before the liturgical reform there were twelve Old Testament readings and not just the present seven! Fortunately for you, we’ve narrowed it down to just three Old Testament texts. But in any event, the number and length of the readings are enough to test anyone’s patience. Why do you think the Church has set out all these readings tonight? I’ll let you in on a secret – the real purpose is to irritate the hell out of you – it’s a way the Church delivers a payback for your lack of observance and sacrifice during Lent. Ok! You know that that was just me kidding, right?

By proposing these readings to us, the Church wishes to offer us a panoramic view of the whole trajectory of salvation history, starting with creation, passing through the election and the liberation of Israel to the testimony of the prophets by which this entire history is directed ever more clearly towards Jesus Christ. The stories in fact link the Easter story to the story of mankind, to the story of the whole universe. In these stories, we see the Easter story being prefigured in the story of creation, the story of how God delivered Israel from slavery in Egypt, the story of how God will place a new heart in us and pour his spirit into us. It’s a story that involves death, but more importantly it is a story that acclaims life! In all these stories, when everything seems to be at an end, marking tragedy and disaster for the protagonist, something amazing takes place. The hand of God intervenes and a new ending is written! Seen in this light, the story of Easter is a fitting climax.

I remarked to a quite a few people that I was astounded at the sight of the massive crowds at yesterday’s Good Friday services. Where did all these people come from? And where have they gone? As in previous years, the drop in numbers on Holy Saturday Easter Vigil services is remarkable. The modest turnout tonight may be an indication that most people just don’t have the patience to wait around ‘until the fat lady sings.’ They are contented with the story of Good Friday. Some believe their sins forgiven if they just turn up on that fateful day once a year. There are those who are feel overly beholden to Jesus Christ for having suffered so much for them on the cross. This is their repayment, or at least an instalment to the principal debt owed. Others feel drawn to the Good Friday service because it seems to resonate with their lives, lives filled with failures, pitfalls, disappointments, and loss. They fail, however, to recognise that Good Friday is not the ending, it is only a prelude to a much greater ending, perhaps the greatest ever known in history and all eternity. It’s quite sad to see that they don’t stick around to witness the stirring conclusion of the story – the story told tonight.

Perhaps, that seems to be oft drawn conclusion to the stories of our lives. We find ourselves in a maelstrom of trouble and disaster. We encounter a whole series of problems where we find no way of extricating ourselves. We experience being stuck in the mire of despair and hopelessness. We walk into alley ways only to find dead ends. We sometimes wonder whether there will be an end to the pain and suffering. We are disappointed with how our children or marriages turn out. The temptation would often be to throw in the towel. We try to run away. Or when that doesn’t work, we look for human solutions only to find ourselves deeper in the mud after a temporary reprieve. Whatever may be the outlet we have chosen for our predicament, we only wish that this would be the end to our troubles and problems. In fact, our misery often seems to be the end!

The story of Easter tells a different tale. With just a stroke of a pen, the Divine Author changes the entire conclusion. Good Friday will not be end. The story of salvation did not end on the cross. Hope did not die on Good Friday. If one were to consider the Good Fridays of our lives, the times we’ve struggled with the loneliness and uncertainties of the dark night, the times we’ve grappled with the problem of suffering, failure and pain, as the foregone conclusion to life, then we are mistaken. Know this, with the night of Good Friday, comes the dawn of Easter Sunday. After the death of the Son of Man, comes the resurrection of the Son of God! Just when you thought that all the odds were set against you, we have a freshly written ending to the story, an ending that will never cease to surprise us and bring us joy.

Tonight, the catechumens will celebrate the Easter mysteries of rebirth, rejuvenation and partake of the sacred meal of Christians where they will share in the One Bread, and One Cup, the One Body and Blood of Christ. It has been a long journey for most of them. For many of them, the journey began long before they decided to join the RCIA. I presume that there will be times; they too would have contemplated whether they would be able to complete this journey. Today, they have come to end of their journey of searching, inquiring, and learning as candidates for baptism, confirmation and Holy Eucharist, but it is only the beginning of their journey of faith as Christians. 

It ain’t over till the fat lady sings or in our present Easter version of the story of stories, it ain’t over till the women on Easter morning returns to tell the tale of their discovery, the story of the empty tomb, the story of the angels message, the story of fulfilled promises, the story of broken hopes and dreams healed and restored, the story of the resurrection which opens up an entirely new horizon. The empty tomb heralds that the chains and prison of death has been broken. Satan and his hold on us through sin have been defeated. The darkness of this night and every night is now brightened by the unquenchable flame of faith in Christ who is our Light. It ain’t over till they return and sing the great hymn of Easter: that soaring aria rising in crescendo, that beautiful hymn that makes the heart swell with joy and hope, the melody that lifts our spirits out of the doldrums of darkness into his unquenchable light, the words that will transform endings into beginnings: “Alleluia! Alleluia! He is Risen, Alleluia!”

TGIF- Thank God It's Friday

Good Friday 2016

Social networking, the likes of Twitter and Facebook, has enabled many of us, to articulate what we would have normally kept private. We give vent to our pent-up frustrations by ‘shouting out’, expressing every emotion for the world to see.  Just take a look at Twitter box or Facebook page on a Monday morning and count how many times you see a similar statement like this: “I can’t wait until the weekend,” or “When’s it going to be Friday,” And of course the familiar initialism at the close of the week, ‘TGIF’ (or ‘Thank God It’s Friday’, for the uninitiated).

What is it about Fridays that makes them so special? Why this euphoric fascination with Friday? Here are some reasons why people think Friday is cool: We get to stay up late. It’s an opportunity to catch up on much needed sleep. It means having drinks with the guys at the local watering hole. It’s that much needed break after a tiring and often bad week. Or as Rebecca Black sang on that YouTube music video that had been described as “the worst song ever”, ‘Friday’ means “Party, Party, Party!”

But for us Christians, there is one supreme reason that beats all the rest. We say without hesitation, “Thank God it’s Friday” because it was on Friday that Our Lord Jesus died for us. “Thank God it’s Friday” because the instrument of death, the cross, became the means of our salvation! Good Friday marks the day when wrath and mercy met at the cross. The Cross which put God to death became the Tree of Life which brought man to life.

The most quintessentially Catholic object of devotion is a crucifix-a cross with the image of Christ's body nailed to it. It’s possible, likely in fact, that you have the positive thoughts about the cross, even warm feelings about the cross. Over the years, many Christians have suffered from a cultural romanticisation or sanitisation of the cross. It no longer evokes horror or terror, only loving endearment and pious devotion.  We regard it as a sign of blessing, and certainly not as a symbol of a curse. You see Jesus hanging there and see a wonderful example of compassion and sacrifice. You find in the death of Jesus an inspiration to forgive and be kind to others. And for others, the overriding emotion in your heart in pity. You feel sorry for Jesus. It’s common for people to turn the cross into nothing but a sad martyrdom or a sentimental statement about love.

But these sentiments do not begin to explain the cross. The readings for today, especially the Passion taken from the Gospel of St John, point however to a far more profound theological truth that extends beyond our emotions of sadness and pity. I dare say that most people know something about Good Friday, but not enough, and often get distracted by the lesser or more trivial things. Well here’s the central truth: on the cross Christ redeemed us from the curse of sin by becoming a curse for us. That Christ became a curse is what makes Good Friday good.

What did it mean to be cursed? Think of the scene in the Garden of Eden in Genesis 3. God warned Adam and Eve that if they were to eat from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they would suffer the curse of death. But our first parents refused to believe God’s warning and chose rather to rely on the words of the cunning serpent. They believed that by eating its fruits, they would no longer have to depend on God. They sort self-reliance over obedience. They imagined themselves as masters of their own destiny and be forever free of God’s interference. That mistaken belief is at the heart of every sin and serves as the perennial disease that infects man till today. Little did they know that this would be their curse, a curse inherited by the whole of humanity. After taking a bite of the forbidden fruit Adam is cursed, Eve is cursed, the serpent is cursed, and the ground is cursed. The effect of the curse is catastrophic – an impassable chasm now exist between man and God; it meant the loss of communion with God, each other, and the created universe.  The curse bars us from eating of the fruit of the Tree of Life and thus man lost the gift of immortality. Death is now our lot.

But Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross has changed all that. Our wounded race could not begin to attempt such a massive task of healing the rift.  Man could never lift the curse on his own. So the Father sent His Eternal Word to become man and accomplish the task in our place, to substitute for us.  For the immortal, infinite God to empty himself and unite himself to a limited, vulnerable human nature was already a feat of unimaginable love and humility.  But for redemption to be complete, the hero would have to withstand the greatest fury that hell and fallen humanity could hurl against him – the cross. If death should come from self-reliance of man, life would come from obedience to God, even execution on the cross.

We should remember each time we see a cross that the Cross of Jesus' crucifixion was an emblem of physical anguish and personal defilement, not triumph-of debasement and humiliation, not glory-of degradation and shame, not beauty. Invented by the Assyrians, crucifixion was used as a means of subjugation and to instill fear and terror among the vanquished nations. It was the policy of the Roman Empire to adopt the best from conquered peoples. In this case, they chose the cross and found crucifixion an excellent tool of intimidation.  Incidentally, crucifixion was deemed so horrible that Roman law forbade its use on Roman citizens, even traitors.  It was reserved only for slaves and conquered peoples.

The humiliation of being stripped naked to die in a public spectacle was particularly loathsome to Jews for whom public nudity was an abomination.  More odious than the shame, the condemned was also deemed accursed. According to Deuteronomy 21:23 everyone hanged on a tree was cursed. It was punishment due for grievous crimes. The New Testament often uses “tree” rather than “cross”. Jesus thus came under this curse. Yet, Saint Peter explains more clearly what was involved: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness.” (1 Peter 2:24) Jesus accepted the “curse” we should have received, and underwent death in our place –so that we might not die but live.

What the Son of God endured for us was the depth of ugliness and humiliation. We need to be reminded of the tremendous personal cost of love. Everyone knows the cross is about the love of God. But it is no cheap, sentimental, fuzzy kind of love. It is a costly, deep, rich, free, painful kind of love. Pope Emeritus Benedict, when he handed the WYD cross to the Australian pilgrims on Palm Sunday two years ago, said, “The Cross itself is the true Tree of Life. We do not find life by possessing it, but by giving it. Love is a gift of oneself, and for this reason it is the way of true life symbolised by the Cross."

We can say “Thank God it’s Friday” with a sigh of relief. Whew! The week is over. Done with the daily grind. Once again the end of the week came just in time before the breakdown. No struggling with the snooze button tomorrow morning. Friday night we can relax, unwind, and enjoy thoughts of a weekend without appointments and traffic jams. But today, we say “Thank God it’s Friday” because it’s God who’s on the Cross. Today, we finally experience the ultimate break – not just from the tedium of a tiring week, but a break from sin, from death, and from darkness. Only God could heal us—save us—from sin and all the darkness it brings into life. Good Friday is good because the Word of God in the flesh—Jesus Christ—could endure on our behalf all the suffering and death that is the consequence of human sin. All the pain, emptiness and despair from betrayal, injustice, illness, lost and lack of love is brought to the Cross by Jesus. He assumed the curse we had wrought through our disobedience, by offering himself as a sacrifice of perfect obedience. He himself bore our sins in his body upon the cross, so that, free from sin, we might live for righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. (1 Peter 2:24). For this reason, we say without hesitation, without the slightest regret, without any trace of doubt, ‘Thank God it’s Friday”!

Love one another, as I have loved you

Holy Thursday 2016

Today, we celebrate Holy Thursday, where the double focus of our celebrations is the institution of the priesthood and the Eucharist. But traditionally, this day was also known as Maundy Thursday, which has nothing to do with the name of England’s most famous comedic troupe, Monty Python. The word ‘Maundy’ is derived from a Latin word, ‘Mandatum’ which could either be translated as commandment as well as mandate. Thus, infused into the meaning of the word ‘maundy’ is both the idea of power as well as responsibility. The ‘mandatum’ that is being alluded here is the New Commandment that is found in John 13:34 – “A new commandment I give unto you, love one another as I have loved you.”

What is significantly ‘new’ about this commandment as compared to the Great Commandment which can be found in Matthew 22:36 (“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul, and love your neighbour as yourself”) is the standard by which love is measured. In the Great Commandment of the synoptic gospels, the point of reference is ourselves – how much are we capable of loving? Fifty percent? Eighty Percent or Hundred Per cent? Self-honesty will tell us that we will never be able to give our entire self to God and to neighbour as long as sin remains a reality in our lives. But the New Commandment starts from an entirely different angle. It presents a standard of measure that is not just super-human but supra-human – it is that of Christ himself. Our love must now be measured according to the love which Christ had shown to us, in other words, the love that allowed him to sacrifice his life on the cross and a love which is represented in the sacrifice of the holy mass whenever we gather to celebrate the Eucharist. 

The new commandment or mandate of love is not just about loving others as Jesus had loved us but also a commandment to allow ourselves be loved by Jesus. We have receive a commandment and mandate to be loved by Christ himself. The starting point is not our capacity to love, but Christ’s love for us. We can only begin to love when we come to acknowledge the depth of Christ’s love for us. We can only love when we allow ourselves to be loved. This begs the question: Do you prefer to love or be loved? Although we acknowledge that everyone does desire love, the fact of the matter is that it is much easier to love than to be loved. 

Why it is more difficult for us to allow ourselves to be loved? The answer is simple – a lot of us are control freaks. When I serve others, when I love others, I’m still in control. We are reluctant to give up the reins to anyone or anything including love. Allowing ourselves to be loved means allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. Allowing ourselves to be loved means exposing ourselves to the risk of rejection. Allowing ourselves to be loved means admitting to our neediness, our insufficiency, our incompleteness. Peter was ever eager to prove his love to Christ but he would ultimately fail in the end – he would end up denying Jesus in face of threat of danger. Peter would have been most willing to volunteer washing the feet of his Master or even that of his fellow companions, but to allow his feet to be washed by the Master was unthinkable. In the face of Christ’s love for him as demonstrated in the washing of feet, he felt the overwhelming urge to pull back instead of allowing himself to let the love of Christ to flow through him like rain. In Peter we see our true reason for not allowing ourselves to be loved – we are afraid, we are cowards, we do not wish to be beholden to others, we do not wish to turn our lives entirely over to God because that would be risking everything, even having to give up all our securities.

Robert Frost wrote, “Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.” There is some truth in that. We all want to be loved but just do not how to do it. However, to truly allow someone to love you all barriers have to be dropped. Walls must be broken down. You must allow yourself to be vulnerable. I detest my vulnerability. Again, I am a coward. I don’t like to let people in. I don’t want them to know that I am worn out; I am tired; I am jaded. I have been hurt one too many times. I have misjudged what love really is one too many times. Ultimately, my inability to let those who would love me into the deepest core of my being is based on my fear that this will result in my loss. But, today as the Church commemorates the institution of these two foundational sacraments, the sacrament of Holy Orders and the sacrament of the Eucharist, I’m reminded that I must ever take the risk to be loved. Allowing myself to be loved by Christ teaches me that being called to the priesthood has nothing to do with the merits or demerits of my abilities, but on the singular privilege of God’s love. Allowing myself to be loved reassures me that I don’t have to be the Saviour, the Redeemer, the one who has it all together, Christ has already come and will continue to save the world in spite of my limitations. Allowing myself to be loved reminds me that I too am in need of redemption and salvation, and that unless I too allow my feet to be washed by Jesus, I will have no part of his life. Whenever I celebrate the Eucharist, the message of Maundy Thursday, resounds in my ear and in my heart – “Love one another as I have loved you.”

As we celebrate Maundy Thursday, the day we remember the mandate and commandment of Jesus to love each other as he has loved us, we are also called to let down our guard and allow Christ to love us, to wash our feet, to give his life on the Cross for our redemption. We often stand on the sidewalk begging for love in the streets and alleys of life. Weighed down by countless responsibilities and demands of others to be loved, we find ourselves exhausted and empty of love. We fail to recognise that Christ who loves us stands by watching in pain. He watches patiently. Perhaps, when we do have the courage to turn around and look over our shoulders, we will indeed catch a glimpse of Jesus, and it is a glimpse of love. You will find him whispering in your ear, “Love one another, as I have loved you.”

An Image of Contrast

Palm Sunday - Year C

Life is full of contrasts. If we recognise and appreciate this then we are truly ready for Palm Sunday. This is because today’s liturgy is full of bittersweet contrasts. Today is obviously a rare exception to the usual Sunday Mass routine, as we have heard from two Gospel passages. At the beginning of the mass, we had the exhilarating atmosphere of the procession, reminding us of the overwhelming reception of Jesus as he enters Jerusalem. But as the priest enters the sacred perimeter of the sanctuary, the mood turns somber, even morbidly dark. The mood swings to one of sorrow as we listen to how Jesus fulfils the Isaian prophecy of the Suffering Servant which culminates in the horrific description of His Passion. They are so different to each other, that one cannot but be struck by the contrast in it all. We have both the ‘Hosannas’ as well as the mocking, ‘Crucify Him!’ As the believers honour Him, the unbelievers seek more intensely to conspire against Him. The first gospel gives us a foretaste of Easter joy, whilst the Passion gospel reading provides us with the grim prospect of Good Friday. Between the two, we can see a great contrast between the Earthly honour which was given to Jesus as He processed into Jerusalem, and the Heavenly honour given by God when he hung on the Cross.

Let’s go back to the beginning. Our liturgy begins with a reenactment of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem where he is given a grand welcome. It’s sort of a "Victory March." People are waving palm leaves in the same way that children in modern times wave flags to welcome someone important. In a poor man’s parody of an honour parade, Jesus received the welcome of a triumphant and home-coming king. In ancient times, palms were considered a sign of victory. Yes, the branches of Palm Sunday symbolises a victory hoped for and a victory promised. But on that first Palm Sunday, it was a victory not yet won. To enter Jerusalem, Christ had to pass through the Garden of Gethsemane - the place where He would be betrayed and arrested - and cross the Kidron Valley, which is fittingly referred to as the "Valley of Death." This valley, located right outside the walls of the city, had long served as a burial ground for the Jews. Before His great triumph over death, Christ had to pass through His own "valley of death." He had to suffer and face humiliation and abandonment. Before He could be Conqueror of death, Christ had to die. One must pass through Good Friday to get to Easter.

The crowds shouted: “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord.” They considered wealth, power and popularity as blessings from God. The people were expecting Jesus to lead them in a rebellion to overthrow the Roman colonial government. But his actions within the next few days would disappoint them. Instead of living up to the people’s expectation of a strong political or military leader, Jesus assumes the role of a humble servant. Jesus will show that to be truly blessed, one must be prepared to do the will of the Father. Instead of glory received from people, Jesus would suffer humiliation and rejection from them as the Suffering Servant in the first reading. Nevertheless, Jesus was indeed a king but his kingdom is totally at odds with any display of power in this world. Jesus will reveal his true power and authority from the totally powerlessness he experienced on the cross. He will be glorified by God on the cross. It’s hard to comprehend such a paradox unless you recognise that the values in Jesus’ kingdom is not naked power and domination but service and humility.

In the face of a violent end, Jesus maintains the calmness and the stature of a Prince of Peace. He enters into Jerusalem not riding a war horse, a steed raised and trained for battle, but instead chooses a beast of burden, a donkey, a symbol of peaceful times. If we continue our contrast of the first and the second gospel, we would recognise these parallels - On Palm Sunday he was carried on a donkey – on Good Friday he carried his cross. The donkey is an animal to carry burdens for people. Jesus was the person to carry the burden of all people. In the Passion Reading we hear of a tale of contrast and irony - Jesus is arrested in a violent way but reminds his disciples to reject all forms of violence. Jesus is accused of blasphemy but his critics are actually the ones guilty of blasphemy for having insulted Jesus, the Son of God. Jesus, the innocent one, is put to death while the murderer, Barrabbas is set free.

The story of the Palm Sunday is certainly one of contrasts and those contrasts help us to understand the path that needs to be taken by us believers. It is the story of the King who came as a lowly servant on a donkey, not a prancing steed, not in royal robes, but on the clothes of the poor and humble. Jesus Christ comes not to conquer by force as earthly kings, but by love, grace, mercy, and His own sacrifice for His people. His is not a kingdom of armies and splendor, but of lowliness and servanthood. He conquers not nations, but hearts and minds. His message is one of peace with God, a lasting peace, not just a temporal one. If Jesus has made a triumphal entry into our hearts, He reigns there in peace and love. As His followers, we too must exhibit those same qualities, in order that the world sees the true King living and reigning in triumph in us. As we follow the Lord, we, too, will face a certain amount of suffering, rejection, loneliness and yes, even our own death. Where the world values power, we must value humility. Where the world values strength and even physical force in order enforce an ideal, we must be peacemakers. Where the world values popularity, we must be prepared to receive criticism and insults from those who do not understand us. We must be living contradictions. Still, we must walk with Christ without fear and reservation, for He will lead us through the "valley of death" to everlasting life in the Kingdom of Heaven.

Today, let us pray for the grace to walk steadily with Jesus. The cheers and jeers of people over the years may come and go, but I remain standing by the King who eternally stands by me and promises a reward to all those who are faithful to Him and His gospel. There will be times we will feel like giving up. There will be times we will feel like negotiating with God to ask him to take the cup of suffering from us. There will be times we will cry out in near despair: “My God, why have you forsaken me?” But then we remember once again the promise of Palm Sunday, look not for earthly honour from men which will not last but always set our hearts on the heavenly honour, the glory accorded only by God that will never wither. With that, let us accompany Jesus to the cross.

St. Joseph- the custos, the protecto

Solemnity of St. Joseph

Today we celebrate the Solemnity of St. Joseph, spouse of the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is one of the two Solemnities that fall during Lent season. Solemnity is the highest ranking feast in the Liturgical calendar of the church, which means, it should be treated as another Sunday. Today, the purple vestment as a sign of penance give way to the white vestment that symbolised joy and purity of soul. The Gloria has been silent during this season of Lent is sung during mass. 

Saint Joseph, foster-father of Our Lord Jesus Christ, is an example of a life so hidden and yet so pleasing to God.  Scriptures did not record for us a word he uttered.  But what the Gospels show is that Joseph was a doer of God’s Will.  He was always on the go, always on the move to do God’s bidding- waking up from the dream to journey to Bethlehem for the census, fleeing to Egypt with Mary and the Infant Jesus to escape Herod and his murderous band, journeying back to Nazareth at God’s command after Herod had died. 

Too often we forget that an angel also appeared to St. Joseph, to prepare him for the significant role He would play in God's saving plan for the whole human race. He was invited to exercise his human freedom, to give his assent to the Lord's invitation - and he did. The mission which God entrusts to St. Joseph to be the custos, the protector. The protector of whom? Of Mary and Jesus. Today, this protection is also then extended to the Church. St. Pope John Paul II once said :"just as Saint Joseph took loving care of Mary and gladly dedicated himself to Jesus Christ’s upbringing, he likewise watches over and protects Christ’s Mystical Body, the Church, of which the Virgin Mary is the exemplar and model” 

St. Thomas Aquinas has this to said about St. Joseph, "some Saints are privileged to extend to us their patronage with particular efficacy in certain needs, but not in others; but our holy patron St. Joseph has the power to assist us in all cases, in every necessity, in every undertaking." Our recent Pope, Pope Francis also added the name of St. Joseph in the Eucharistic prayer. "...that with the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mother of God, with blessed Joseph, her Spouse..."

Today, the Church encourages us to be devoted to St. Joseph because he was a model in the heroic practice of all the virtues. The example of virtuous living that he gave in the exact fulfillment of the duties of his state of life is worthy of our reflection. He was prudent in caring for his wife and the child; he showed great leadership in protecting them and assisting them. He was religious in every sense, with that delicacy and sincerity of conscience that is proper to the saints of God. Let us ask St. Joseph to intercede for us to accept our unique and special vocation that God has planned for us. St. Joseph, Foster-Father of Our Lord, pray for us! 

Catechesis on Veiling of Cross and Statues

It has been the custom of the Catholic Church, to veil the crosses and the images of the saints from the 5th Sunday of Lent until Easter. Why are these veiled? In the past, the gospel read on the 5th Sunday of Lent ended with Christ hiding himself from the Jewish authorities who wanted to stone him (John 8:59), so now he is hidden from the world in preparation for the mysteries of his passion. The statues of the saints,too, are covered; for it is but just that, if the glory of the Master be eclipsed, the servant should not appear. The veiling of the crucifix also expresses the humiliation to which our Saviour subjected himself.  

Truth is never judgemental

Fifth Sunday of Lent - Year C

In today's modern world, the phrase “who am I to judge” and its derivation, “don’t judge me,” have become an over-used defence that validates every sort of behaviour and excuses us from being accountable to moral truths. It is no wonder one of the oft repeated clichés a Christian may cite, believing that it’s derived from the gospels, and perhaps even from the mouth of Jesus is this, “Love the Sinner, hate the sin”. Little do they realise that this doesn’t come from the Bible at all. “Love the sinner, hate the sin” has become a well-worn Christian mantra, an expression of conviction that even while we stand firm on what constitutes right and wrong, we will continue to love those who do what is sinful.

Today’s gospel story of the woman caught in adultery has become synonymous with this maxim. It would appear to many that Jesus epitomises the truth of this maxim: he loved the sinner, in this case the woman caught in adultery, but did not condone the sin, as demonstrated by his parting words to the woman, phrased as a commandment of sort, “Go away, and don’t sin anymore!” The story is so popular that even those who rarely read the Bible know about it. The cause of its popularity is by no means the closing words of Jesus; often this part is ignored or even forgotten in modern popular spinning of the tale. What often catches the attention of the audience are the words of Jesus addressed to the Pharisees and the angry mob, “If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” By these words, Jesus is held up as the singular model of non-judgmental compassion and acceptance of moral (or immoral) behaviour.

Both this story and the maxim ‘Love the sinner, but hate the sin” have often been used to justify the argument that no one has the right to judge another person for his moral behaviour, no one should criticise anyone else who is sinning, since Jesus didn't (or so they think). According to the argument, since everyone is a sinner, something which is not denied, all persons are disqualified from making moral judgments. This argument is often used against the Church and its leaders who are deemed to have wrongly assumed a self-righteous moral authority to judge the behaviour of others. The Church and who stubbornly persist in setting moral benchmarks which are practically disputed by the majority, both within and outside the Church. This, perhaps, explains the popular media’s obsessive fascination with excavating and exposing the Church’s ‘sordid’ past, and the ‘vices’ of its leaders, to press the point that since the Church and its leaders cannot plead impeccability, they must thus abdicate the right to judge others, the proverbial ‘stone throwing’ as described in today’s gospel.

But did Jesus’ words to the Pharisees and the scribes carry the above connotation? If it did, then no one, not even the media, has the right to judge; which seems ironic since the media constantly tries and passes judgments on institutions and personalities, in the absence of both the accused as well as incontrovertible evidence. Jesus never condoned sin or even the sinner who remains in sin. In fact, the conclusion of the story is the reverse. He told her unequivocally to sin no more. There was no compromise or the slightest tolerance for sin. He did not even provide her with a more realistically attainable path – go and “try” not to sin again. There is nothing ambiguous about what he meant. “Go away, and don’t sin anymore.” The woman and all of us are presented with a choice. We can choose Jesus Christ, or we can choose our sins. If you choose to love your sins, you will die in them. If, however, you confess and repent of your sins, and choose Christ, you will have life, life in abundance, for Christ has died for us, the unrighteous, in order to make us righteous before God.

Pope Emeritus Benedict articulated the same point in his interview with Peter Seewald, “Today we have to learn all over again that love for the sinner and love for the person who has been harmed are correctly balanced if I punish the sinner in the form that is possible and appropriate. In this respect there was in the past a change of mentality, in which the law and the need for punishment were obscured. Ultimately this also narrowed the concept of law, which in fact is not only just being nice or courteous, but is found in the truth. And another component of the truth is that I must punish the one who has sinned against real love.”

If we are going to love the sinner while avoiding any attitude or behaviour which would approve sin in any way, then we must see sin in the same light as God does. God does not rationalise sin by “watering it down” and making it easier to accept.  He does not refer to fornication or adultery as “a love affair,” or abortion as ‘d & c’ (dilation and curettage).  He does not refer to evil as a ‘psychological impairment.’ He does not distinguish the sinner from the sin, external behaviour from internal disposition. In fact, a person is not divisible in the way the cliché, and our underlying anthropology assumes. In the Bible there is no such division of a person that separates what we do from who we are. Identity is inseparable from our activity. Sin can never be quarantined. One can never deliberately and consciously choose to remain in sin and expect only unconditional acceptance from God. Sin is the very antithesis, the very opposite of God.

The reason why God hates sin, is because He loves sinners. God knows that sin has cursed man with suffering and death. It is the cruel tyrant that enslaves the soul. God recognises what tremendous damage sin has done and is doing to His creation. He knows how sin holds a person captive in the depths of his own personal guilt, how addictive it becomes.  He knows the misery and pain that invades a person as sinful acts pile upon sinful acts until the person staggers beneath its load. Thus, no tolerance should ever be shown to sin. Tolerance for sinful behaviour should never be mistaken for compassion and love. True love demands that one seeks to announce the truth of the wrongdoing, call the sinner to repentance and finally to facilitate his reconciliation with God.

Today there are two popular extremes in how Christians approach sinners. The first extreme is like the Pharisees. “Let's stone them!” There is no charity in their judgment or in their condemnation. Likewise the second extreme is where we say, 'it's okay, do whatever you want, God's mercy will cover it." There is also a lack of charity in this seemingly liberal view of things. Rather, charity calls us to free those trapped in sin from the evil that enslaves them. Pope Emeritus Benedict’s past Lenten message spoke about the need to be concerned for the spiritual welfare of others and of the need to try and correct behaviour that is sinful: "The Church’s tradition has included “admonishing sinners” among the spiritual works of mercy. It is important to recover this dimension of Christian charity. We must not remain silent before evil ... Christian admonishment, for its part, is never motivated by a spirit of accusation or recrimination. It is always moved by love and mercy, and springs from genuine concern for the good of the other… It is a great service, then, to help others and allow them to help us, so that we can be open to the whole truth about ourselves, improve our lives and walk more uprightly in the Lord’s ways. There will always be a need for a gaze which loves and admonishes, which knows and understands, which discerns and forgives (cf. Lk 22:61), as God has done and continues to do with each of us."

Just like the woman in today’s story, Christ has seen our sin. He has smelled the stench of our wicked hearts. As we stand, caught in our sin, standing before Christ naked, shamed, expecting nothing but his judgment, we receive only this: his greatest gift, his life offered freely for you and for me. Just as he had looked into the eyes of the woman, he looks into ours and sees the cross. He would go to that very cross we deserved. He would keep the law perfectly to satisfy the justice of punishment due for our sins by becoming a sacrifice in our place. Christ tells us to “go away, and don’t sin anymore.”  This is as much a command as it is a call to freedom.  Freedom should never be taken as a permissive license to sin. Christ sets us free to live a life free from sin, a life free to be in communion with God, a life free to glorify God.

Gratuitousness of grace

Fourth Sunday of Lent - Year C

We are a society which has grown acutely sensitive of our rights and sense of entitlement. Older people feel entitled to certain benefits from the government. Middle-aged people feel entitled to generous health and retirement benefits from their employers. Younger adults feel entitled to immediately enjoy the same standard of living their parents took years to achieve. And young people feel entitled to whatever material luxuries they desire. It surely seems appropriate in our culture where we believe we are now entitled to a whole host of things in life. Some believe that they are entitled to kick-backs and bribes, thus the rampant corruption that plagues our system. Others believe that they are entitled to a responsibility-free existence, thus when something goes wrong, someone else is to blame. And still others think they are entitled to a sacrificially-free existence, so they object over having to give up for the sake of another. Church going people are no different. Many Catholics believe that they are entitled to a whole range of benefits just by being members of the parish.  Any perceived curtailment of any of these rights or the denial of entitlements and you may have a riot on your hands.

Both sons in today’s famous parable had the impression that their father’s inheritance was a sort of entitlement. The younger son's sense of entitlement is obvious: he demands his inheritance so he can live as he pleases. He is claiming his birth ‘right’ – his argument is based purely on the strength of lineage. But the older brother displays a similar sense of entitlement in his condemnation and rejection of his brother. He believes that his hard work and good behaviour had earned him the right to the economic benefits and stability of his father's love. Both felt that the father ‘owed’ it to them. Both were deeply flawed.

In the case of the younger son, he equated personal freedom with his right to do whatever he wished. He desired a life free from discipline, from the norms of God’s commandments, from his father’s orders. He wanted to be his own man without any reference to his father or even God.  He was concerned only with his own selfish interest, a heart which had no place for the other, certainly none for his father. Also note the attitude by which the older son lives his life by. His whole attitude is about what he should get from what he has done and not about ‘Who am I becoming in the process?’ He’s about ‘doing’ what a son does and forgot about ‘being’ who a son ought to be. Simply put, the older son was about the Father’s house, but completely missed the Father’s heart.

Competition, bitter rivalry, envy and destructive conflict often arises from this entitlement mentality, the mentality that believes the world or someone or something owes it to us. People often fail to recognise that whenever the discussion of any issue descends to the level of mere assertion of personal rights, we often find ourselves trapped in a selfish self-serving delusional world blind to the needs of others. It is literally saying that our needs are more important than those of others. Few people understand that when someone asserts a right to something, very often someone else’s right is infringed. For example, let’s say that you and I are neighbours. You lead a group of rock musicians who can practice only in the evenings; while I, on the other hand, enjoy nothing more than quiet evenings. Presumably, you have a right to pursue your musical career, and I have a right quietly to enjoy my property. The problem is that your right is incompatible with mine. The conversation often gets so wrapped up in the championing of rights and entitlements that we quickly lose sight of grace.

This leads us back to consider the beautiful parable of the Prodigal Son, and especially the character of the father. The father expresses the gratuitousness of grace – it is given to those who do not merit it nor earned it. It is wholly the gift of the father; he does not ‘owe’ it to his sons. The “Father” in this story is undoubtedly characteristic of our Heavenly Father who forgives and restores us back to relationship with Him. Thus the gospel helps us understand who God truly is. He is the Merciful Father who in Jesus loves us beyond all measure. To the world, the father seems like a foolish foggy old man madden with love for his two sons – one an ingrate wastrel and the other, a resentful and reluctant worker. The errors committed by his sons do not corrode the fidelity of the old man’s love for them. In this way, he provides for us the example of how to liberate ourselves from the entitlement trap. We do so whenever we begin to consider the needs of the other, apart from our own rights and entitlements. The father invites us to move from a ‘give me’ mentality to that of personal responsibility. While there's a time and place for discussing rights, what's most helpful is the reminder that we need to extend grace to others, even to those who don’t seem to deserve it.

Furthermore, this parable helps us to understand who the human being is: he is not a an isolated being who lives only for himself and must have life for himself alone. On the contrary, we live with others, we were created together with others and only in being with others, in giving ourselves to others, do we find life. This revelation throws light on the real meaning of freedom. According to Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, “freedom... is a springboard from which to dive into the infinite sea of divine goodness, but it can also become a tilted plane on which to slide towards the abyss of sin and evil and thus also to lose freedom and our dignity.” He said that in modern times we have seen theories proposing that human beings should be, “free, autonomous, and nothing else.” This supposed freedom from everything, including freedom from the duty of obedience to God, is a lie because human being does not exist on its own, nor does it exist for itself. If God is not the point of reference, then man will descend to the level of hedonistic immorality or addictive servitude.

During this season of Lent, most of the parishes in the Archdiocese of Kuala Lumpur will be celebrating the Parish Penitential Service. The Father invites us to return home.  Let us make this inner pilgrimage freely and without reservation. Christ wishes to set us truly free from the bondage of sin, of selfishness, of material illusions and addictions. We come without pretences, acknowledging that we are undeserving, not entitled to the graces we ask from him. We come with humility recognising that only when we have returned to the Father, both inwardly and outwardly, can we experience true freedom of the soul. Let us come to him to celebrate the feast prepared for us, for the one who is lost is now found, the one who is dead is now alive once more.