Saturday, 14 March 2015

God is love

Fourth Sunday of Lent - Laetare Sunday (Year B)



Today is Laetare Sunday. Laetare is a Latin word which means “rejoice” or “rejoicing.” Other nuances of the word include joyfulness, gladness, cheerfulness, and happiness.  This elated or jubilant mood is a striking one-day departure from the somber, sorrowful, penitential tone of the other days of Lent. This is one of the two occasions that we get to see the priest in their pink-rose vestment because it symbolises joy and happiness. 

There are multiple reasons why the Fourth Sunday of Lent is cause for joy, the most important of which is the proximity of Easter. On Ash Wednesday, Easter was a long way off, six and a half weeks, but on the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Easter is only three weeks away, and as the greatest of all Christian feast draws ever nearer, joy increases. 

The Scriptures texts for the Fourth Sunday of Lent are a series of joyful messages.  In today's Gospel reading, I guess this is one of the most familiar verses among Christian- John 3:16" God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not be lost but may have eternal life.” Wow... Isn't that a joyful message to all of us? God showed how much he loved us by sending his one and only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. 

However, this oft repeated text has certainly lost much of its impact on its readers. There is no doubt that this is a definitive statement about the extent of God’s love. But it also speaks to us of the true value and worth of our lives which we often discount. 

Perhaps, the most frequent doubt people have about God, is not with regards to his existence but about the measure of his love. When we examine our behaviour and actions, we can recognize our lack of belief in God’s love for us. Whenever we sin, we forget this truth about ourselves. The root of sin is this: we sin when we believe that God’s love for us is not enough. In other words, when we sin we doubt God’s love for us. When we sin we call God a liar. When we sin, we claim that there is something more important than what God can give to us. We give in to the temptation that we must supplement the inadequate love of God with other things – material possessions, popularity or power.

Sin finds a parallel in our psycho-emotional state. Many people generally do not feel good about themselves. They harbour thoughts that they are not beautiful enough, not smart enough, not loving enough. They often suffer from a poor self-image. Because of this low estimation of themselves, they often are also critical of others and easily find fault with them. There is some sick cycle being played out – they criticize and belittle others with the hope that they will feel bigger and more superior.

We get angry with others for hurtful words and actions and find it hard to forgive them because of the same reason. Other’s comments and criticism shake our already poor image of ourselves. People find it hard to forgive because they find it hard to forgive themselves. If we are harsh in judging ourselves we will also be harsh in judging others.

Many people also try to please others – their parents, their spouses, their children – by doing whatever is asked of them, even when it makes them miserable and unhappy. Many of us also try to please God. Following the commandments and penances are performed without much internal freedom. If they are done, it is to appease a capricious God who seeks to heap heavy taxes on his people. St. Paul reminds us in the second reading that “it is by grace that you have been saved, through faith; not by anything of your own, but by a gift from God; not by anything that you have done, so that nobody can claim the credit.”

This is it: We are saved by God because he loves us. We are saved not because we deserve it. We don’t deserve it because we are sinners. We are saved not because we have earned it. Love and salvation can never be earned. This is the extent of the love of God – that he saved us despite our sins and not because we were good. God came not to condemn us but to save us. Today’s gospel reassures us of this: “For God sent his Son into the world not to condemn the world, but so that through him the world might be saved.” This is our destiny. This is our dignity. This is the real story of the greatest love the world has ever known – a love paid with the price of one’s life – the life of God. How then should we respond to this insight? Our thoughts go back to the First Sunday of Lent, to the message of Christ which began all this – the good news of salvation. In this message, Jesus summarises it simply in two words - “Repent” and “Believe”. Repent from your sins and believe in the good news of God’s salvation.

Saturday, 7 March 2015

"...they shall be comforted..."




Dear Friends, tomorrow marks the first anniversary of the mysterious disappearance of Malaysia Airlines Flight MH370. Based on most of the news report,  it seems hardly possible to detect any silver lining in this otherwise sad and tragic incident. We find ourselves once more at the foot of the Cross in all our brokenness and frailty.

The loss of so many innocent human lives, one tragedy trailing another, seem so incomprehensible, so horrific that our human minds and hearts, our frail human emotions fail to come to terms with the immensity of our pain. It is necessary for us, as a community, to come together in human solidarity and in Christian love and support so that, through our common prayer and reflection, we may, in some way, find answers to questions which burden us, to doubts which weaken us and to fears which threaten us. In the darkness of tragedy, in the seeming finality of death, in the continuing apprehension of the unknown of the future, we Christians stand together in the light of Christ, our Saviour. The Assumption of Mary and presence in heaven with the saints provides us with a powerful testimony that our hope in the resurrection is not in vain. Death is not the end, but merely a transition to something far greater.

On this day of Mourning, It is particularly important to remember the second beatitude: “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” (Matt. 5:4). Reading this, we might immediately think it refers to God comforting us when we mourn a loved one’s death. Of course, as believers we do experience God’s consolation in times of loss, but this is just one way the promise of the second beatitude is fulfilled.

According, Pope Benedict XVI, “there are two kinds of mourning. The first is the kind that has lost hope, that has become mistrustful of love and of truth, and that therefore eats away and destroys man from within. But there is also the mourning occasioned by the shattering encounter with truth, which leads man to undergo conversion and to resist evil. This mourning heals, because it teaches man to hope and to love again.” This is the mourning we Christians are undertaking today, the mourning that brings healing and change, not one that traps us in hopeless grieving and which leads to despair.

As our prayers and thoughts reach out today to the many who are grieving the loss of their dear ones, let our mourning be turned into a source of comfort, consolation and healing for them. For the souls of those who have died, let our prayers be a sign of our solidarity with them within the communion of the saints. As we pray for all those who have lost their lives and all those whose lives today are filled with anguish because of their loss, let us also pray with urgency and with faith, that the hard hearts of those responsible for this terrible event might somehow be touched by the wave of mourning and sorrow which has been unleashed, a mourning that heals, brings conversion and teaches man to hope and to love again.

Today, with Mary, we are asked to gaze on Jesus, the Son of God who suffered and died for us on the cross. Though Jesus was a man of sorrows, He was able to endure suffering and pain because He knew that “out of the anguish of his soul” He would “see and be satisfied” (Isa. 53:11). We will never have to go through what Christ did, but we can look to God’s promise of comfort as a similar guarantee that we will one day see our mourning is not in vain, but as the Psalmist assures us, that our mourning will be turned into joy. Requiescat in Pace.

Righteous Anger

Third Sunday of Lent - Year B




"How would you describe your relationship with God?" This was one of the question asked during the RCIA retreat in my parish. The most common answers from the candidates are Father, companion, guidance etc. 

In today's Gospel,  we encounter a very different Jesus. We would often like to think of him as calm and collected, wise, gentle and loving. But in today’s gospel, Jesus unleashes his anger on the moneylenders and animal vendors in the Temple. His anger is not just confined to verbal altercation but is expressed in a physical and even violent manner, as he overturns the tables, vandalises the tools of trade and collections of these businessmen, and even physically whips them with a makeshift flogger. To describe this behaviour as disturbing is an understatement. Many people, including many of us, would have deemed this petulant and childish and outright scandalous. What do we make of this? 

But before we look into the text and try to discern the purpose of Jesus’ actions, we need to address an issue that may also distracts enquiring minds. The gospel of John presents this episode of the cleansing of the temple at the beginning whereas the same story is found at the end of the other three gospels, Matthew, Mark and Luke. We must remember that the gospels were not mere biographies of Jesus written in a chronological manner. Each of the gospels is a theological document utilising stories from the life of Jesus. The Synoptic gospel writers place the story near the end because it fits their purpose of explaining why Jesus was tried and arrested. On the other hand, the Gospel of John places the story of the cleansing of the Temple at the beginning, because it also fits into the thematic schema of the first few chapters (e.g. Wedding of Cana) that Jesus has come to make all things new. Here lies the clue to unraveling the mystery of Jesus’ actions.

We now come back to the issue of interpreting the action and more specifically the anger of Jesus. Were the presence of the moneylenders and animal vendors justified? Here, it must be noted that their presence in the Temple grounds were neither a desecration nor were they deemed a distraction. Their business was in fact essential to Temple worship. Profane currency, which usually carried the image of the Roman emperor, was prohibited as payment of Temple taxes, because it violated the first and second commandment, which we heard in the first reading. The animal vendors sold animals used for sacrifice by the pilgrims. Their trade, with licenses issued by the Temple authority, guaranteed quality as pilgrims were prohibited to offer an animal victim that was blemished in any way. Therefore, both the moneylenders and the animal vendors served as intermediaries and their presence marked that invisible boundary between the sacred world of those who were worthy and the rest of the world that was considered impure.

In introducing the theme of ‘newness,’ Jesus’ anger can be understood at two levels.

At the first level, Jesus was targeting the culture of transforming religion into a marketable commodity. The point that is being made here is not just the commercialisation of the Temple building. Jesus was not targeting the traders in the Temple compound because he felt that these sacred grounds should not be desecrated by their wheeling and dealing. All those who sell religious articles within the Church premises or who attempt to raise funds can rest assured that they do not risk the wrath of a Jesus going amok once again. What was commercialised was religion itself. Although the money lenders and animal vendors provided access to Temple worship, it came with a price. Their presence and activities fostered the erroneous belief that faith and grace could be sold and bought.

The second level which Jesus attacked was the false dichotomy that stood between the outside world and the interior of the Temple. This dualism was reinforced by the presence of these tradesmen who acted as intermediaries between these two realms, thus fulfilling somewhat the function of the priestly caste. In fact, Jesus’ attack against them was in a way a more subtle attack on the leadership of the priesthood. The function of a priest was to mediate the relationship between the people and God. But, Jesus’ indictment against them was that they had not only failed to act as representatives of God and of men in facilitating this communion but indeed had become obstacles. In the synoptic gospels, Jesus stressed that the Temple was to be a place of worship ‘for all nations.’ But the priestly caste, including their business collaborators had made it an exclusive enterprise, a limited commodity that could only be dispense if one paid the right price.

But both these points are merely secondary to what Jesus had intended to teach through his actions. The temple for the Jews was where God was found on earth. God lived in heaven, but his presence could be found in Jerusalem. Because God’s presence was there, this is where the Jews found forgiveness and cleansing for their sins. Over the centuries, the temple changed. It had been sacked and looted and rebuilt only for it to happen again. The half breed Jewish King Herod built the temple Jesus walked into, but Herod because of his ancestry and his being Caesar’s puppet made this temple suspect, to say the least. In the past, the Temple was holy because it housed the Ark of the Covenant, the symbol of God’s indwelling among his people. But now its holiest sanctuaries stood empty. The Ark of the Covenant was long lost. The Temple had become an empty husk bereft of meaning. Different groups of Jews were waiting for the messiah to come and restore the temple into the splendour it had when Solomon built it. They longed for this time when true worship could take place there, without any taint of impurity.

The most important point, therefore, expressed by the words and actions of Jesus was that he was supplanting the physical Temple building with the Temple of his Body. From now on, religion could no longer be paid for a price by money either minted with the face of Caesar or with the menorah, the seven branch candlestand that was imprinted on the Temple coins. The faith that was introduced by Christ would be paid with a far greater price, the price of His own life on the Cross. Likewise, there was no need for any animal sacrifices. The most perfect sacrifice has been offered by Christ, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. In this new economy of salvation, in order for worshippers to worship God in Spirit and Truth, there was no need for the mediation of moneylenders and animal vendors. Christ Himself would be the Sole and Perfect Mediator.

Therefore, the themes contained in today’s gospel reading present us with several thought provoking and soul searching questions: Should we really get angry whenever we do not get our way or should our anger (a righteous kind of anger) be directed at sin or whatever keeps God from his rightful place of authority in our lives? Should we get annoyed when our space appears invaded or should we turn our anger to the many obstacles and walls which often creates false disparity between the rich and the poor, and insurmountable barriers between peoples of different cultures? Should we just be looking at the sacrosanct inviolability of our church buildings or should we be focusing on the new Temple, the resurrected Christ who is present in his Body, the Church, where there is no division between Jew or Gentile, slave or free, rich or poor? As we continue our Lenten preparations to celebrate the newness of our lives through baptism which we will all commemorate and renew at Easter, let us cast aside all the impediments and obstacles that continue to separate us from the Love of God, the Love made flesh in his Son, Jesus Christ who has come to make all things new.

Saturday, 28 February 2015

God sanctifies us so that we may glorify Him


What are icons? Icon come from Greek word means "image". It is a religious work of art. Interestingly, many English-speaking Orthodox Christians insist that icons are not "painted" but rather "written." What are the icons that you can remember? (Eg: Mother of Perpetual Help) Icons serve as narratives to open our eyes and hearts to a different realm of the Hidden mystery of God. Just the like icons on your computer screen which act as inter-phase portals linking you to another programme or application, these Christian art pieces, and perhaps more than that, links the visible world of the believer to the world of the invisible.

If depicting a scene from scripture, it tells a story that goes beyond the literal sense of the gospel text: here are live, happening events, real human beings, and challenges to the past, present and future. The icon of the Transfiguration which I came across was so rich with intricate details, each with a story to tell, and perhaps layers upon layers of meaning, that I found myself looking at it for almost an hour. 

But what struck me most at first glance were the odd shapes that seemed to be protruding from the back of Jesus as if he had a pair of rectangular shaped wings set at strange angles. The circle of light (or mandorla) that surrounded the figure of glorified Jesus was obvious. It not only denoted the radiant light of his transfiguration but also represented the inner uncreated light emanating from Jesus, the Word of God, which pointed to his divinity. But was there a need to add these two other odd shapes vectors? They didn’t appear to be rays of light or at least stylized versions of it.

Upon further research, I discovered that these two odd shaped vectors represented the two fold movement of ascent and descent. On the one hand, it symbolized the ascent of Jesus and this three disciples up the mount of transfiguration and subsequently their descent thereafter. On a second level, it spoke of the two fold movement of faith. The first movement of faith or light of faith is a prophetic light which reveals the true identity of Jesus – apart from his messianic identity, Jesus is also the Only Begotten and Beloved Son of the Father. A second movement of faith or the light which illuminates and enlightens the disciples and all of us and help us make an assent of faith to what has been revealed.

Both these meanings may seem distant and abstract. But today, I would like to share with you what the ascending and descending movements of the Transfiguration say to us about a subject that is very close to us, something which we experience frequently, but perhaps with very little understanding. The two movements of the Transfiguration speaks to us of the two fold movement found in our liturgy, that is whenever we celebrate the Mass or any of the other Sacraments. The word “liturgy,” comes from the Greek word ‘leiturgia’ which means ‘public works.’ In ancient Greece, rich people often made expensive contributions to the city or to the state in terms of financing public works and received honour and privileges in return. Thus, the two fold movement could also be discerned from this profane use of the word liturgy – ‘you give and you receive in return.’

In the case of Christian worship, the celebration of the Sacraments, carries a similar two fold meaning. But here, the direction is reversed – ‘we receive in order that we may give.’ For us the word liturgy means the work of God in a dual relationship: the work God does for us and the work done unto God. Thus, liturgy is both what God does and what we do in return. Traditionally, the descending movement of God has been called ‘sanctification’ whereas the ascending movement of man has been called ‘glorification.’ God sanctifies man so that man may glorify God. This is what liturgy is all about!

The Transfiguration occurred not so much for the sake of the Lord as for the sake of His disciples. In the story of the Transfiguration, the glory of the Son is revealed in both the change of his appearance as well as the words of the Father descending from the clouds – “This is my Son, the Beloved, Listen to Him!” This is the descending movement of God. By revealing the divine nature of his Son, God was not merely providing the three apostles with a glimpse into the inner life of the Trinity but also providing them with the prototype of their own sanctification, or as the Eastern Christians put it, their deification. The Greek word for Transfiguration, ‘metamorphosis’, does not only indicate a transformation in appearance but also a progression or change of being from one state to another that will reveal one’s inner beauty. The disciples were shown what man could really be. They should not be content with just being caterpillars or trapped in the chrysalis of their earthly existence. They are destined to become beautiful butterflies that manifest the divine glory of God. In response to this revelation, Peter offers to build the three tents or shelters. At one level, these were mere dwellings to prolong the experience. At a deeper level and taking the spiritual sense of the text, Peter was actually offering to build a shrine, a temple or a sanctuary to glorify that which he now beholds – the visible Christ who reveals the invisible face of God.

This two-fold movement in fact unfolds in a Trinitarian and Ecclesial shape in our Eucharist; that is, God the Father comes through his Son to the Church for the sake of the world, and the Spirit illumines and vivifies every dimension of this movement. In the other direction, the Church, speaking in the name of the whole world, responds in thanksgiving by offering to the Father the very gift she has received: the Son. The Spirit effects the transformation or more exactly transubstantiation of the Church’s gifts into the Body and Blood of the Son.

In the Liturgy of the Word this twofold movement is also enacted by means of speech. God speaks, and we speak back. We can say that God speaks through his Son in the Holy Spirit to the Church; and the Church responds. Jesus Christ stands exactly in the middle position of these two directions of movement, and thus he is named Mediator. What God says to the world is his Son, Jesus Christ. What the world says back to God is also Christ, the Word made flesh, joined to the Church. The Church also plays the role of mediator here. God speaks to the world in speaking to the Church. The Church speaks for the world in responding to God.

Thus, the Transfiguration was not merely a historical event that prepared the disciples to face the trials ahead of them, especially that of losing their Master and Lord to the horrible fate of the crucifixion. The Transfiguration is re-presented and replayed throughout the centuries in the celebration of our liturgy. Here too we witness the transfiguration of the Lord as the bread and wine are changed into his Body and Blood. But it is not only the species that are changed; we too are ‘metamorphosised.’ At every mass, whether we are aware of it or not, we are sanctified and deified, we are transformed from glory to glory into the image of our Archetype, the new Adam, Christ our Lord, so that we may render worthy praise and glory to God. In the Transfiguration, Christ speaks to us of the fact that the world must be transfigured by love, which none of us has within himself, but which He is offering to us. In the Transfiguration, we are given the certain cause and foundation of our hope in order to follow Him on the way of the cross. Through the Transfiguration, the Church reminds us that present suffering is incommensurate with eternal glory, and that our brief and light suffering produces eternal glory in abundance. The butterfly will emerge from its chrysalis.


Saturday, 21 February 2015

Water...! Water...!

First Sunday of Lent 





We are in the First Sunday of Lent. This, however, is not the beginning of Lent. Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of Lent, the 40 days preparation for personal conversion leading up to Easter. 

Today, being the First Sunday of Lent, water becomes the main focus that ties all readings together. It is not surprising then to find scripture choosing to use the metaphor of water to describe a deeper and more profound reality. Water is essential for life. Up to 78% of our body is made up of water. A person can survive up to 4 weeks without food but can only live up to 8 days without water. We need water to drink, water to cook, water to wash, water to make our vegetation grow and animals live. Perhaps, we will only appreciate the need for water when we are deprived of it. It is obvious that too little water is not good. On the other hand, too much water is also not good. Excess of water causes floods, destroys crops and exacts casualties among humans and animals alike.

The first and the second reading speak of the flood waters that almost destroyed the world. In the gospel, we are told of how the Spirit leads Jesus into the wilderness, the desert, where there is no water. Both of these situations seem to be extremes. On the one hand, too much water nearly destroyed the world. On the other hand, it is the lack of water which nearly destroys Jesus and leads him into temptation.

But in both cases, it is the destructive power of water or the lack of it that leads to salvation. In the story of Noah, God promises to Noah that he will never destroy the world again with flood waters. At the end of Jesus’ experience in the desert, he makes a public announcement of the good news, a message that will quench the desire of everyone who thirsts for the kingdom of God.

How are these stories connected with our Lenten experience? These stories point to the need for conversion and repentance. We are often weighed down by the burden of sin. We sometimes experience great guilt as if a dead albatross was practically hung around our necks as a sign of our folly and shame. But it is only, when we turn our hearts to the one who can redeem us, can we then be freed from the fetters of guilt and sin. The way of redemption is the way of conversion and repentance.

During this season of Lent, we must die to our selfishness and to our sinfulness. We must allow our old selves to be destroyed in the flood waters of purification. We must purify our intentions and courageously face our temptations as we journey into the wilderness of our lives with Jesus. At the end of this period of 40 days, we hope to die again in the waters of baptism together with the catechumens who will be baptized so that we will rise again with them to new life in the Spirit. It is at Easter, that the symbol of water becomes clear. St. Peter explains this in the second reading: “That water is a type of the baptism which saves you now, and which is not the washing off of physical dirt but a pledge made to God from a good conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ …”

As we listen to the voice of Spirit leading us into the wilderness, let us take courage and not be disheartened by any temptations which may be placed before us. The Church proposes to us the ancient Lenten practices of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. It does so not to add to our burden but through these practices, we may be set free from sin and its effects. Prayer opens the doors of our hearts so that we may be consumed by the love of God. Prayer frees us from the burden of sin which hangs around neck like a dead albatross. Prayer leads us to faith where we come to attest as St Paul does that “Christ himself, innocent though he was, died once for sins, died for the guilty, to lead us to God”.

Thursday, 19 February 2015

A year of true joy

Chinese New Year 2015


Happy Chinese New Year! 

According to Chinese astrology, each year (starting from Chinese New Year) is associated with an animal sign, occurring in a 12-year cycle. For example 2015 is a year of the Goat. The Goat comes 8th in the Chinese zodiac. Personality traits are associated with the zodiac animals, according to Chinese folklore. 

I checked the internet to find out information about the Year of the Goat and this is what one website had to say about the year. The year of the Wood Goat promises much more favorable times as compared to the previous year. Many astrologists concluded from the conditions of 2015 that the processes that have been unfolding and spreading chaos for the past few years are finally wrapping up; both political and economic situations in the world are starting to stabilize. Many people’s quality of life is getting higher and the crisis that has been tormenting many counties for the past several years is finally promising to be over. 

Did you hear that? A year of peace and tranquility? A year of better quality of life?  This is truly good news for many of us who are so often afraid of turmoil and disturbances. Many would be happy like a  tame wood goat knowing that it will be a year of good fortune, happiness and luck. 

We often equate good fortune, happiness and luck as things that are subject to fate. There are greater forces beyond us that determine whether we would have a good year or a bad year. The type and number of crystals that we should display in our house or wear around our wrists; the colour of our hair; the animal zodiac and its influence throughout the year; the number of gold fish that I should rear in my aquarium. 

On this first day of the new year, I’m not going to tell you what’s your fortune for this year, whether you would be experiencing lots of good luck or bad. No. I have a much better prediction for year. It’s going to be great year, a year full of blessings, a year of true joy. Why? Because God has promised to be with you. If God is with you at all times, you don’t need good luck or good fengshui or good omens. God will be you sustaining you, giving you strength to bear with all the burdens of life. God will be with you to help you through the darkest moments. God will be with you guiding you when you feel lost. God will be with you comforting you in your loneliness and pain. God will be with you healing you, forgiving you and blessing you with his grace. 

Wishing you a wonderful and blessed new year. 

Monday, 2 February 2015

Love through contemplation


Feast of Presentation of the Lord 


Today we celebrate the Feast of Presentation of the Lord. Today’s feast commemorates the event of the holy family paying a visit to the Jerusalem Temple, 40 days after the birth of Jesus. In order tradition, Christmas season lasted until today's feast and it marks the end of a long 40 days “Christmastide” that corresponded to the 40 days of Lent.

In today's feast, we see Jesus is presented in the temple to perform two rituals, i) the first is that of the presentation of a first born son who is to be redeemed from God and the ii) second is the purification of the mother since child birth had rendered her ritually unclean. It is a day that brings together many themes. In the East, today’s feast was traditionally called ‘Hypapante’: the feast of meeting, it commemorates the event where Simeon and Anna met Jesus in the Temple and recognized in him the Messiah so awaited. For the Eastern Christians, these two individuals represent the whole of humanity that meets its Lord in the Church. In the West, the feast took on a different focus which gave emphasis to the symbol of light, and so for centuries, the feast was known as “Candlemas”- where the candles blessed and lit during the liturgy came to symbolize Christ, the light to the nations. A third theme arose during the pontificate of St. Pope John Paul II, when he chose to celebrate the Day of Consecrated Life on this feast day as many parallels could be made between those who lived a consecrated religious life in the Church and the presentation of the Lord. Pope Francis has also proclaimed 2015 a year of Consecrated  Life, starting on the First Sunday of Advent, and ending on the on Feb 2, 2016, the World Day of consecrated life. 

At the scene of the Presentation, as one contemplates and enters into the very experience of Mary, as one gazes into her immaculate heart, which does not only represent the heart of a mother but indeed of the whole Church, we will soon recognize a deep pedagogy of love. To contemplate the pierced and wounded heart of Mary, as Simeon prophesied in today’s gospel, means entering the school of love. To enter in the School of Mary, St. Pope John Paul II tells us, is “to put ourselves in living communion with Jesus . . . through the heart of his Mother” (John Paul II, RVM, 2).

Today, much of the love that we know and encounter is external. Love is seen demonstrated by the expensive and opulent gifts which we heap on each other. This kind of love depends constantly on strong emotions and passions. This is a love that only appreciates external beauty. But Mary teaches us that much of true love lies hidden and mysterious. Even though the fire of passion cools, the beauty of youth fade, the happiness bought by wealth disappears, love remains. It takes prayerful contemplation to recognize what seems invisible to the eye. Simeon and Anna, both physically blinded by age and by the dim light in the Temple’s interior, were able to recognize the Christ Child where others could not. They saw through the eyes of faith, the contemplative eyes of love. The Blessed Mother teaches us the art of love which is contemplation. To contemplate is to look with the heart, to look with love. It is only if we contemplate with love can we discover the greatness of God’s love. This is the reason why we need to contemplate with the Heart of Mary: to read, understand and penetrate the mysteries of Jesus with the love of Her Heart. She is our model and our teacher of contemplation.

So what does Mary teach us of love through contemplation?

The first fruit of contemplative love which Mary reveals in today’s gospel is this ‘Love means letting go.’ Mary and Joseph followed the ancient Jewish custom of presenting their first born son to God at the Temple and provided the requisite fee, a poor man’s portion, to redeem him from the Lord’s hands. But more than just blindly following a tradition and custom, Mary understood the truth of her actions. This child does not belong to her. This child belongs to God. The irony of this episode is that her child, destined to be Redeemer of the World, is in no need of redemption. Mary understood from the very moment the angel announced his conception in her womb, she would not be able to force or manipulate the direction of his fate. This child comes from God, he will live a life in accordance with the will of God and when his earthly mission is accomplished, he will return to God. Unlike other parents who often behave in a manner which indicates possession of their children, controlling their future, their career and even their love life, Mary’s love would provide space for her Son to fulfill his mission, even though this would mean breaking her heart at the end. Letting go doesn't mean we don't care or that we’ve given up. Letting go means we stop trying to force outcomes and make people behave. It means we stop trying to do the impossible--controlling that which we cannot--and instead, focus on what is possible for God. And we do this in gentleness, kindness, and love, as much as possible.

Mary also shows that ‘Love risks wounding.’ Simeon’s contemplative gaze penetrates the inner depth of Mary’s heart and prophetically foretells the pain which she will have to endure for her son. By doing so, the story links the love of Mary with the passion of Christ right from the very beginning. There are times we wish to shield our hearts from injury and wounding. We enclose ourselves in a cocoon hoping and desiring that our hearts will not be broken. We often extend this protective veil over our loved ones, our family members, our children, our friends. But as much as we try to shield them and ourselves from pain and suffering, wounds are inevitable when one takes the risk of loving. In his book, ‘The Four Loves’, C.S. Lewis beautifully speaks of the intimate relationship between love and pain, as he himself tries to make sense of the loss he experienced as a result of the death of his beloved wife. He writes, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket- safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.”

The third fruit of contemplating Mary’s love is that Love purifies or to be more accurate, it sanctifies. We had encountered the first ironical point of the story when we noted that Jesus, who was presented at the temple, was actually not in need of redemption. The second irony is found in the ritual which Mary would have to undergo at this juncture, purification, because the Jews considered a woman ritually unclean and not fit for temple worship or social interaction after child birth. What is ironic here is that Mary also is in no need of such purification because she is the Immaculate Conception, the true Ark of the Covenant unsullied by original sin, the bearer and temple of the Lord, her son Jesus. Her holiness finds its source in the love of God that had consumed her from the moment of conception. St Augustine tells us that Mary’s love first conceived in her heart and then in her womb. So what is the single most important sign of sanctity? It is love. Scriptures constantly remind us that the beginning of love does not lie with the individual man or woman trying to be more altruistic or caring. The beginning of love always begins with God’s love for his people even though they remained sinners. The love of God divinizes the beloved and thereafter the beloved transforms the world and sanctifies it through this same love which he had received.

Thus, let us rejoice together with Mary and pray that the Holy Spirit will fill our hearts with this contemplative love, a love that is always ready to let go and not seek to posses; a love that risks wounding and is always ready to share in the passion of Christ; and finally, a love that purifies, sanctifies so that our mortality may be exchanged with the immortality of the one who is Love incarnate, the Son of Mary, the Son of God.