Thursday 24 August 2017

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 2017

The Second Reading, where Paul agonised over his people’s inability to accept Christ, reminds me of the role catechesis plays in the life of the Church. It is safe to say that catechetics is mostly a matter of the head. As Saint Anselm used to say, "Fidei quaerens intellectum". Faith, for it to make sense, must investigate the contents of belief by means of reason in order to acquire a deeper understanding of revelation. If for no other reason, we have to educate the head so that the heart is not misled by superstitions. The natural unity between head and heart, which in a world turned topsy-turvy by sin, has been disrupted. Hence, knowing and loving must be regulated. The head requires systematic training and academics will tell you that it is not easy to sit and struggle with material at hand because our vitiated inclination is readily distracted. The heart also needs coaching because of the damage inflicted by sin, it is inclined to indolence or inertia. The naiveté we suffer is to mistake that head and heart are in harmony meaning that what the head knows, the heart will follow. 

That is not the case as experience will dictate. A good example is what you see in children. They say they understand you but they do not always follow up with what they understand.

We are however, not dealing with children. For myriad reasons, people do leave the Church or if not, they simply become marginalised. Superstition could be one reason. They know little and frequently are incapable of articulating the reason for their belief. In this situation, catechesis does have its job cut out. We need to catechise. It is our first line of defence as Fulton Sheen illustrates with this quote. "There are not a hundred people in America who hate the Catholic Church. There are millions of people who hate what they wrongly believe to be the Catholic Church--which is of course, quite a different thing".

But, there are people who leave even if they know. As mentioned earlier, the heart does not always follow the head. St Paul himself confirms it in Romans 7:19--The good things I want to do, I never do; the evil things which I do not want--that is what I do. Whilst this may be a perennial human struggle, the point is, when the heart has been bought over, the head will always lose out. It is to this heart that catechesis must turn its attention. 

The truth is, we really do not know how to nourish the hearts. The better question is what the heart would be mesmerised by.

The short answer is beauty. We are adept at teaching truth and goodness but we do not really know how to teach beauty. It is true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder and therefore it is pretty much subjective. Whereas, truth and goodness are different in the sense that they are more objective. But is it really a case that truth and goodness are objective and beauty is not?

Consider this. All of us want goodness. This is because we are made for the good as nobody knowingly will choose the bad. The same too for truth because each one of us wants to believe in the truth and nobody likes to be lied to. Finally, we all desire to grasp beauty for no one here wants to embrace ugliness. A man never goes out to marry an "ugly" woman.[1] Now, just because I want something, it does not make it good and just because I believe in something, it does not make it true and finally what I grasp as beautiful does not make it a thing of beauty. This shows that beauty does have an objective reality to it.

Now, if it has an objectivity to it, then catechesis can take place. For otherwise, if it were just subjective, then we are all doomed to wander the wilderness of fakes and imitations passing themselves off as beauty.

Now, in the context of catechesis, where do we encounter beauty? Let us begin with our liturgy. In itself it is a wonderful gift of beauty because it is the memorial of the mystery of salvation (CCC1099), that is, if the Church is to be believed. Unfortunately, some of us do not fully accept that. Rather, we have come to believe that the liturgy in itself, even when carried out according to the prescribed rite of the Church, is not enough to secure our salvation. In a sense, we are driven by a Pelagian attempt to secure our own salvation—a forgetfulness that beauty is salvific.

Secondly, look at the state of our church building. The heart is not just mesmerised by beauty. It is also inspired by beauty. But our idea of building beauty is basically a hodge-podge of functionality. It is almost like dedicating a space to the Lord and not having any other functions for it, would rank as a sin against the “Return of Investment”—in other words, beauty is wasteful, irrelevant or mostly extravagant. All space must be useful. And in the absence of architectural beauty, we generally fill the void by dragging the pub into the church—jazzing up the liturgy to make it more “engaging” and less boring. Notice at the same time the same entertainment criterion employed when we cut down on readings fearing that people will be turned away by having one reading too many.

We are so accustomed to the democratisation of beauty[2], meaning that anybody and everybody has a right to his idea of beauty that to suggest pub music as inappropriate would render one an elitist. The reality is, the world has become so accustomed to devouring from the trash of mediocrity that it can no longer stomach the sublimity of beauty and so denigrate the sublime as elitist. Just watch the “Emoji movie”. The idea of beauty is so corrupted that nobody raises an eyebrow that a piece of faeces is actually a character of the movie. We have normalised ugliness.

Beauty has a role in catechesis and is indispensable to the instruction of the faith. In the context of catechesis, the Catechism speaks of beauty, in the context of sacred art, as evoking and glorifying, both in faith and adoration, the transcendent mystery of God. Beauty in sacred art draws man to adoration, to prayer, and to the love of God, Creator and Saviour, the Holy One and Sanctifier” (cf. CCC 2502).

The desire for beauty can be inculcated and whilst there exists a tension between “objective” beauty and also “subjectivity”, we should not be quick to dissolve it.[3] More importantly, the desire for beauty is not fed by facts or information but rather it is strengthened through living experiences. 

Having stripped the altar, is it a wonder why young people know so few saints? We are busy with presenting facts and information of the faith forgetting that both goodness and truth are clothed in the flesh and blood of saints. Many statues inside a church are not an indication that we are idolatrous. Instead, they are our friends in catechesis—as they reveal the beauty of the holiness acting in their lives.

Indeed, beauty is a big-picture undertaking. If we accept the premise that the human spirit has a supernatural aspiration, then it makes sense that the human spirit is more ready to sacrifice itself for an enterprise bigger than merely the “self”. The big picture is provided by the tradition and the saints because nobody would die for factoids or information. The saints, on the other hand, provide concrete proofs of why a person would lay down his or her life the person of Jesus Christ and His Church. Saints are our unbroken link to the reticulum we call Tradition.

In summary, catechesis is also a battle for the hearts and as such it is fought on as much intellectual grounds as it is on emotional grounds. Emotion is nourished by beauty. Unless we begin the rehabilitation of beauty from just personal preferences to that which is of God, we cannot inspire and the faith will remain cold concepts to be endured and not captivating convictions to be embraced.





[1] Even if the woman is “ugly”, it is because the man sees beauty in it. We search for beauty because it is “objective”.
[2] Beauty is a difficult notion to grasp because our taste is based on preference, that is "what I like". St Thomas Aquinas describes three qualities that objectively constitute beauty. He speaks of proportion, integrity and clarity
[3] It is not as if the Church does not take into consideration diversity. She does. In fact, Paul VI said, “Evangelisation loses much of its force and effectiveness if it does not take into consideration the actual people to whom it is addressed, if it does not use their language, signs and symbols, if it does not answer the questions they ask, and if it does not have an impact on their concrete life”. At the same time, he also cautioned, “Evangelisation risks losing its power and disappearing altogether if one empties or adulterates its content under the pretext of translating it” (Evangelii nuntiandi n63§3).

The Transfiguration Year A 2017

Maryland, founded in the early 17th century and named after the French consort of Charles I--Henrietta Maria, is considered to be the birthplace of religious freedom in America as it was intended as a refuge for persecuted Catholics of England. 1829 is generally taken to be the chief moment marking the emancipation of Catholics in both the UK and Ireland. In 1955, Rosa Park, in defying the order to give up her seat to a "white" person, inaugurated the modern civil rights movement.

The founding of a state, the Act of Parliament granting freedom of worship and the civil rights movement are just a few examples representing the exciting breakthrough in the evolution of freedom. And, they might just help us appreciate better the feast of the Transfiguration.

Firstly, what is the Transfiguration? As a theological event, it is regarded as a turning point in the ministry of Jesus. Just before ascending Mount Tabor, Peter had confessed the Messiahship of Jesus and that He is the son of the living God. On the mountain, it culminates in an experience which according to Matthew parallels the revelation on Mount Sinai. Moses representing the Law and Elijah standing for the prophets both had ascended Mount Sinai/Horeb to consort with God. Now here they are again on a mountain speaking to the God-made-man, thereby confirming the confession of Peter that the Messiah is indeed Jesus and foretelling His impending Passion. From Matthew's perspective, the Transfiguration fulfils the Old Testament longing for the Messiah.

Within this theological narrative, Matthew proceeds to describe the Transfiguration in vivid details--His face shone and His clothes became as white as the light. The question is, what exactly did the Apostles experience? The truth is that we inhabit a demythologised world where magic and fantasy have more credibility than any miracles connected with Jesus. The demythologisation of scripture means that Jesus did not rise from the dead. An explanation for the resurrection is that He rose in the hearts of people. The multiplication of loaves nothing more than a persuasion of the crowd to share their food with each other. Or, the Transubstantiation is not a change in objective reality but rather it symbolises a change in subjective appreciation, hence Transignification. Seen in this context of a demythologised world, the Transfiguration was not really an experience of the supernatural. It might just be one of those interior experiences of the Apostles much akin to what we call mass hysteria, group hallucination or auto-suggestion.

The point here is not to desacralise the experience but rather to read the Transfiguration as more than an event that confirms the confession of Peter or portends Christ's coming Passion. The transformed body of Jesus is a foretaste of and also an anticipation of our appearance in glory. Eucharistic Prayer III reminds us that "from the earth, He will raise up in the flesh those who have died and transform our lowly bodies after the pattern of His glorious body".

This supernatural event allows us to appreciate better the notion of liberation. Earlier on, I enumerated the founding of a state, the emancipation from restrictions placed on religious belief and the genesis of the modern civil rights movement. It would appear that progress is an inexorable march to greater freedom. But, what is liberation for? If the Transfiguration is the model for this liberating progress, then liberation is freedom from the tyranny of sin. However, when framed in the glossary of the pursuit of happiness[1], life and liberty etc, the focus shifts to an almost economic expression and it is concretised through the language of choice—the choice to pursue the best possible way to happiness. However, note that the liberation envisaged by the framers of the Constitution for the 13 Colonies takes its reference from who we are--that we have been created in the image and likeness of God and therefore we possess inalienable rights. Thus, it makes sense that caste, creed or colour should not determine how one is treated.

Whereas for now, the notion of liberation has taken its inspiration not from the movement from sin to grace, that is, from who we are to who we are supposed to be. Instead, its inspiration is firmly grounded in who we want to be. We "should be free" to create ourselves according to our image and likeness and even God is to be shaped according to our fads and fancies. Sadly, this self-referential genius is aided by an increasing technicalisation of life. Now, at the push of a button we are able to "solve" all problems. This process has contributed to the distancing of the notion of freedom from sin meaning that freedom is no longer anchor on the notions of good and right. Instead, all that matters is that “solution” and not salvation has become the goal of human existence. This is confirmed by the proliferation of pharmacies. The ubiquity of this institution of cures is also indicative of the therapeutic culture we have become. In therapy, we are concerned with cures (read: solution) and thus liberation is a form of cure in which we are freed from sickness rather than from sin. God is no longer necessary for our salvation. We are our own saviour with a result that we seldom think of freedom as freedom from sin.

The idea of liberation, that is, the process of moving towards greater freedom, is important. But, this freedom which we prize so much must find its goal in the salvation that is brought about by the Lord. A desire for this salvation would require a disengagement from sin so as to fulfil what the Preface suggests: He, in revealing His glory, might show how in the Body of the whole Church is to be fulfilled what so wonderfully shone forth first in its Head.





[1] The idea that freedom is for the pursuit of happiness is never absolute. Happiness is but a foretaste of heaven. But, in a demythologised world, where heaven is situated on earth, then freedom is unhinged from its celestial mooring. Everyone should be free to do anything and everything. Take a look at the expanding phenomenon of the gated community. The strength of our security is not augmented by the ghettoisation of our security meaning that we are not better protected by the increased in armed security. Gatedness is a false indication of security. The British Bobbies no carry guns and why is that so? The British recognise that violence against an officer of the law is taboo. Taboo whose function is to protect society (and sadly sometimes to preserve the status quo as well), in a demythologised culture, is now considered to be a crimp on style, meaning that, taboo upsets the exercise of choice and the freedom to be. But, taboos play a role in directing freedom to its original intention which is to enable Man to be who he is supposed to be.

Tuesday 1 August 2017

17th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A 2017

Of course, we have since come a long way but in 1982, an advert for the cutting-edge Scottish-produced Sinclair ZX81 computer touted: "Finally, you can satisfy your lust for power". As someone suggested, while you are at it, you might as well throw in money. In fact, all our advertisements run along the triple strands of sex, power and wealth.

If lust is a hunger, then the pivotal premise for desire to make sense is its satisfaction. Otherwise it would remain an itch, if not an irritation. What is essential to this enterprise of satisfying the craving for pleasure, wealth and power is the emancipation of choice as exemplified by a music video of the cast of the series Empire. Check out the catchy tunes "No doubt about it" where it features Jussie Smollet and Pitbull singing "You can do what you wanna do. And do who you wanna do. Be who you wanna be. Freak who you wanna freak".

In short, this liberalisation consists of freeing the faculty of choosing from the anchor on which it is built. In the first reading the anchor is prudence and it is expressed in practical wisdom. The Collect voices this insight as "[G]rant that, with you as our ruler and guide, we may use the good things that pass in such a way as to hold fast even now to those that ever endure". This practical wisdom does not work out of a vacuum. In fact, it is relational as declared by the Psalmist: "Lord, how I love your law". This means that God's will must take precedence over my desire. Regrettably, our faculty of choosing has been tainted by sin and concupiscence. We have turned in on ourselves and to embrace God's will has become a struggle. We are that self-focused that it does not take much for us to pass off our proclivities as God's will.

God's will is found in both nature and through the Church. Nature because man has a nature and there he is subject to natural laws. The rage that we have today is that nature is not of creation but rather a construct. An example suffices here. The rampant development projects that we see taking place around us is less progress than the articulation of the unspoken assumption that powers these drives and it is that "nature should obey us" because we have the wherewithal to make it what we want it to be.

God's will is found through the Church because he who hears my voice listens to me meaning that Christ through the Holy Spirit speaks through His Church. Here again, we tend to idolise the maverick believing that the Holy Spirit cannot be tied down by an institution which is characterised by a censorious legalism and smacks of pharisaism. 

The Muslims have got one thing right, a feature in their practice which we used to have. This struggle of sin and concupiscence is definitely made more complicated because we have forgotten the education of our disordered nature. Prudence is strengthened by the taming of our senses. Fasting is a discipline of moulding the will because often enough what we want is in conflict with what the Lord desires. Thus, shaping of our conscience according to the love of Christ and His Church is helped by a will docile to the prompting of the Spirit.

The three traditional vows of religion--chastity, poverty and obedience even though they are often conceived of as renunciation, they are in actual fact, a mode of living whereby one enters into mystery of Christ through the total gift of the self. There is a vacuum created by God for which the human faculty of desire is an instrument to its fulfilment. As St Augustine says, "Lord our hearts are restless until they rest in you". Due to humanity's vitiated nature, this desire often takes us far from God. Therefore, mere renunciation is not enough to take us back to God. Instead, denial is only the first step in the re-education of our faculty of choosing.

Choosing Christ always has a cost and it is discipleship. We do not just make a choice once and for all and not think about it anymore. We affirm our decision for Him each time we choose. Recall the simple annual ritual of renewing our baptismal vows at Easter and each time we participate in a baptism, there is also the act of reaffirming our vows to choose God and reject satan. Furthermore, marriage promises are not made only at the altar. It is revitalised every day in the living out of one's marital fidelity. The same too goes for when we recite the Creed every Sunday. It might sound like a little dead ritual but it is simply one of many acts of renewing our faith and making a commitment to God.

Last week I made a reference to Hell in the sense that Heaven and Hell are not dualities created by God. Hell is the absence of Heaven and not the other way around because Heaven cannot be defined by something that does not exist objectively. Even though it is not mentioned in today's Gospel, the final stamp to all our choosing is whether we have wisely chosen heaven or whether by our own fault we have foolishly lost Heaven which therefore means that we have by our choice consigned ourselves to Hell. The discipleship of choosing God is not splashed out in the spectacular. Wisdom is not a flash of inspiration. Instead, if life is markedly ordinary 99% of the time, we can be sure that God's will is to be found in the humdrum of everyday living. It is in daily discipleship that one gains the wisdom of knowing how to use the good things that pass in such a way as to hold fast even now to those that ever endure.

16th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A 2017

The central parable in the Gospel this Sunday yields at least three points for us to ponder. Firstly, God's infinite compassion. Secondly, the call to repentance and continual conversion. Thirdly, the reality of judgement and hell.

Firstly, an experience similar to the Parable of the Wheat and the Weeds is that of planting rice. In a farming community, at least from where I came, to plant rice, one would need a nursery. It is a bed of soft and watery mud where seeds are sown. Now, if you are unhappy with your neighbour, all you need to do is walk past his nursery patch and sprinkle a handful of black glutinous rice (pulut hitam). There is no difference in how the shoots look like once they germinate. The unsuspecting farmer will gather the seedlings once they are of a certain height and then transplant them into the regular fields. Only when the rice starts to crop will one realise the sabotage because of the appearance of the distinctive black grains of glutinous rice. The entire crop is somewhat spoilt and good only for home consumption as spotted milled rice is not saleable in the market. That is where the similarity with the Parable ends because the aim is not to highlight the tainted harvest but rather to give prominence to the infinite patience of God in His dealings with us.

Most, if not all of us are both wheat and weed. God is definitely more patient with us than we are sometimes with ourselves. In the context of God's forbearance, the comfortable or uncomfortable co-existence of both good and bad in us leads us to the second point which is the challenge to repentance and conversion. If God is infinitely merciful, then His patience is really our salvation.

Not too long ago we wrapped up the year of Mercy and what have we to show? It is not so much the programmes that we have covered or the activities we have gone through. Has it been a year of success or have we, perhaps, just cosy up to this grand scheme at taming God into submission. There is a spirit of the world that desires of a God who, basically, is hopelessly indulgent in His mercy and the Church is supposed to reflect that. This is a God best depicted by Rembrandt's The Return of the Prodigal Son. God is that "helpless" old man who is pining for us to return.

Which brings us to the third point. God may be compassionate and merciful. However, the parable ends with a separation between the wheat and the weeds. The weeds are gathered to be burnt. Likewise, there is judgement and there is hell. Heaven and hell are not dualities in the sense that there is a heaven and there is a hell. Instead, the loss of heaven will result in hell. But, what is disturbing is that our therapeutic world conceives heaven as a fuzzy feel good state where God's duty is to make people feel happy whenever they need Him. We are incapable of fathoming the loss of heaven and this is amply illustrated by Boys II Men's collaborative hit with Mariah Carey: One Sweet Day. There is a presumption that everyone we know will be in heaven, smiling down on us. Firstly, who are we to say that they are not? It is true that we should not be judgemental. But secondly and more importantly, is it not overly presumptuous on our part to believe that they are? This is exemplified in the many canonisations that take place at our feel-good funerals!


Heaven is not defined by the absence of hell. Instead, the reverse is true in the sense that the loss of heaven will result in hell. Without conversion, there is a possibility that we might lose heaven. Therefore, let not a misguided notion of thinking that God cannot help Himself but forgive lull us into damning complacency. Rather, think of God's mercy as our invitation to repentance—a form of reciprocity which is brought up in the Parable of the Unforgiving Debtor. There, the God who showed mercy to the debtor was inviting the debtor to imitate same generosity by being merciful to those who are in a similar predicament of indebtedness. Not that God needs anything from us but, if generosity is the mark of our God, then the God who is merciful and full of compassion is inviting all of us sinners, through the conversion of our hearts to return, with gratitude for His loving kindness, grace for grace and love for love.