It sounds cliché or vacuous even to state that we live in the greatest era of human history. After all, is not every present moment or each “now” or “latest” supposedly the best that time has to offer? Maybe ours is the “greatest” age because we are poised to take off with artificial intelligence, that is, if we have not already reached that point of singularity. Much like when Google arrived at the scene, we have since adapted or inserted ourselves into ChatGPT or the likes without second thoughts and without resistance. In fact, like Pandora’s Box, the Genie is out of the bottle and there may not be any turning back.
The journey towards this singularity where machines can determine the future of the human race, did not start with the internet. In fact, humanity began this journey when alchemy became chemistry, magic gave way to science and mystery yielded its secrets to technology. The process of demystification corresponded to the distancing of God. Or more accurately, we moved away from God because for man to be big or for him to be great, God must be small.
Freed from the shackles of magic and mystery, man can now determine his own destiny and chart his own future. In order for that to happen, there is a need to cut God down to size. But the Assumption reveals to us what it means that our prominence and God’s eminence are not mutually exclusive, that one does not have to come diminishment of the other.
The Assumption shows how great Mary is only because she acknowledges God’s greatness. In the Gospel, Mary sings the Magnificat not just to glorify God but to illustrate that a confession and recognition of God’s glory does not come at the expense of man but instead God’s grandeur guarantees man’s dignity.
According to Pope Benedict, Original Sin came about because Adam and Eve felt that God’s presence is an intrusion into their lives that would take away their agency or restrict their freedom. But the Parable of the Prodigal Son may provide a solution to clear our misguided notion. Both brothers were not aware of the freedom they aboriginally possessed precisely because they were with their father. The older son felt unappreciated because the father welcomed and celebrated the useless younger brother’s return. In response to his resentment, the father replied, “All I have is yours”. The older brother did not recognise his exalted place as a son of a loving father. Instead he perceived himself only an obedient slave rather than a beloved son. The younger brother who believed his freedom could be expanded when he left the father, only found himself enslaved and his humanity reduced to the dignity or status of pigs.
Thus our freedom is rooted in the Father. The notion that freedom is independence from God is misguided. Today we celebrate the Assumption simply because Mary trusted in God fully. She never had to exercise her freedom away from God. Instead, in God she found the greatest expression of humanity’s desire to be free.
Human freedom expands when we remain in close proximity to God. John Paul II, who titled his first encyclical, Redemptor hominis, stated that Jesus Christ shows us what it truly means to be human by revealing man to himself and as a man, He brings to light man’s true vocation which is to be with God. The emphasis on Jesus’ humanity should be mirrored in Mary’s own humanity. Why? Through her total obedience and her sheer embrace of God’s will, her humanity was magnified rather than diminished.
In this sense, Mary is true man because she embodies the fullness of what it means to be a human person. Her fullness of grace was not of her own. Rather, her title as Mother of God embodies and models what it is to live fully and to act in a human manner as intended by God for us all. To err is human, we hear this repeated a lot but to be human is actually to be like Christ, that is, if we follow the inspiration of John Paul II. Christ reveals who we are supposed to be to ourselves. Hence, the Assumption is a confirmation that the highest degree of human freedom is reachable and achievable only when we give ourselves entirely to God.
I love the quote by William Wordsworth, the English poet whose remark points to Mary as our tainted nature’s solitary boast. It feels like we are saying to God, “Hey God, we have someone which can face you unashamed”. We can hide behind her and she is our pride. But actually, she is loved by the saints not because she is our boast. Rather, she is honoured because she is God’s greatest gift to us. No wonder Satan is fearful of her.
This Assumption, apart from celebrating Mary’s triumph, we should actively pray and petition the Lord that we may regain our true freedom which is to be found when we embrace God’s will. Freedom is not merely possessing the ability to choose as if both good and evil were equal in their substance and consequence. Instead, freedom is the ability to always choose the beauty of goodness and to always reject the glamour of evil. Mary’s ability to choose Godwas the expression of her true humanity. We who have been damaged by sin can also choose like Mary did. But for that, we need to pray not to be put to the test. And through the powerful intercession of the Mother of God and the man Jesus, we ask her to pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.
Friday, 15 August 2025
Wednesday, 13 August 2025
19th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
We continue with the broad theme of conversion. The stewardship that we are called to embrace can only be sustained by a vision of heaven where the Risen Lord is. From last Sunday we have now arrived at a point where faith is necessary to sustain the conversion to a vision of Christ in heaven. It is impossible to be converted without faith, let alone find our way to heaven.
In the 2nd Reading, the author of the Hebrews charted out the journey of faith that Abraham and Sarah made by trusting God even when they did not know what to expect. There is always an element of uncertainty when it comes to faith in the Lord. But leaving their familiar homeland is by no means revolutionary when we think about it. Our ancestors who departed both India and China for these shores, they too would have had faith of some kind. They left optimistic that they will be met by fortune rather than misfortune. Perhaps we can appreciate how many undocumented migrants today also left their countries hoping that they might strike it big than remain wasting away in their homeland.
Faith grants strength to seize that moment when we have to take the first step. As the Hebrews remark, “Only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for or prove the existence of the realities that at present remain unseen. It was for faith that our ancestors were commended”.
How do we get to that level of trust? One condition that creates the possibility of walking in faith is to change to the way we look at blessings. In terms of what we have and possess, the perspective changes when our focus shifts from a fascination with the gifts of the lover to the Lover Himself. Devotion to Christ is necessary for a life of faith. What does that entail?
We have always operated on the basis of “mine” or “ours”, right? But how about “His”? Last Sunday, I quoted Pope St Gregory the Great who declared that giving to the poor is not an act of charity, a merciful largesse on our part but rather a debt of justice we pay. Since we all work under the basis of “mine” or “ours”, it is easy to see why we view giving to the poor as an act of generosity for which the poor should be grateful.
Unfortunately, wealth has a corroding effect on faith or on how one trusts in the Lord. The conversion we seek is not a once-off event but rather a life-long process and it is mostly slow and incremental. Firstly, we need to realise that the idea of conversion is more than not sinning. The traditional Act of Contrition provides a clear window to what true conversion should be. “… I detest my sins because they deserve your just punishment but most of all because they offend you my God whom I should love with all my heart …”.
If our reason for avoiding sin springs from a fear either of being condemned to hell or of the loss of heaven, that is classified as an imperfect contrition. No doubt, it will help us get to heaven. However, since God has invited us into His life, should our motivation not come from our love for Him and flow from a profound sorrow for offending Him whom we should love with all heart. Conversion is always seeking the face of the Lord and faith is trusting that God will always be where we are.
Thus, watchfulness is important because we can be trapped behind a materialistic worldview. Our possessions can blind us to the reality of God’s presence. A glaring form of materialism is an expectation flowing from a familiar model that informs the pattern of our relationship. How many of us feel that just because we have sacrifice so much for God, should He not be bound to reward us? How many of us who have given time to the Church, which is considered a kind of rendering to God His due, feel dumbstruck when a tragedy hits us?
The common question raised is “Why me, Lord?”. The point is whenever bad things happen, we immediately feel done to or victimised because the basis for our engagement with God is based on a reward—punishment model. It is even reflected in the familiar Christmas carol: “Santa Claus is coming to town”. “You better watch out because God is making a list of who is naughty or nice”.
I am fascinated by the love that St Bernadette had for the Lord. She was given a great gift to share with the world but she herself was never to profit from the gift of healing. She suffered greatly from the tuberculosis of the lungs and bones. Imagine how she would have felt? For many of us, there will be a deep sense of betrayal, a sense that our God has no loyalty at all. It is a bit like how St Teresa of Avila felt when she was climbing out of the ditch in her religious regalia muttering about Jesus inconveniencing her.
How do saints love God?
They love God or rather their love for God has never been a matter of reward. There is, without a doubt, a reward that follows from our love for God. We will gain eternal life when we keep the commandments of Christ. And yet, this still falls within the realm of the “material” gain for the good that we are. To be rewarded should be, in other words, a by-product for loving God and never the main focus.
We live in an age where self-care is considered central to one’s mental health. How often do we hear that “health is wealth”? Or we should find space for rest and etc. In fact, some might hold a view that the Prayer for Generosity is really dangerous as it is inimical to self-care. “Lord, teach me to serve and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds”. The freedom to embrace such a life that pays scant attention to one’s well-being can only come from someone has fallen deeply in love with Jesus and are enamoured by Him so much so he or she is willing to pour out or lay down his or her life for Him. When St Paul stated this, it was not because the sacrifice of Christ was incomplete, but rather because he has come to live for Christ alone. “I complete in my body the suffering lacking in the body of Christ”. Here was a disciple in love with His Lord.
It makes sense that Christ asks His disciples to be watchful because His coming would be unannounced. This alertness carries with it an attitude of detachment and whilst the reward may be great, one remains attentive independent of what the reward is like. The faith that we are called to must be buoyed or supported by a loving relationship very much like a lover waiting for the beloved to return. In other words, in a time of uncertainty and waiting, what remains for the disciple is a longing, a kind of aching for the Lord to come. Come what may and even though nothing is certain, what is enough for the disciple is that Christ will come and that is sufficient for the disciple to keep faith and to love whilst waiting for Him.
In the 2nd Reading, the author of the Hebrews charted out the journey of faith that Abraham and Sarah made by trusting God even when they did not know what to expect. There is always an element of uncertainty when it comes to faith in the Lord. But leaving their familiar homeland is by no means revolutionary when we think about it. Our ancestors who departed both India and China for these shores, they too would have had faith of some kind. They left optimistic that they will be met by fortune rather than misfortune. Perhaps we can appreciate how many undocumented migrants today also left their countries hoping that they might strike it big than remain wasting away in their homeland.
Faith grants strength to seize that moment when we have to take the first step. As the Hebrews remark, “Only faith can guarantee the blessings that we hope for or prove the existence of the realities that at present remain unseen. It was for faith that our ancestors were commended”.
How do we get to that level of trust? One condition that creates the possibility of walking in faith is to change to the way we look at blessings. In terms of what we have and possess, the perspective changes when our focus shifts from a fascination with the gifts of the lover to the Lover Himself. Devotion to Christ is necessary for a life of faith. What does that entail?
We have always operated on the basis of “mine” or “ours”, right? But how about “His”? Last Sunday, I quoted Pope St Gregory the Great who declared that giving to the poor is not an act of charity, a merciful largesse on our part but rather a debt of justice we pay. Since we all work under the basis of “mine” or “ours”, it is easy to see why we view giving to the poor as an act of generosity for which the poor should be grateful.
Unfortunately, wealth has a corroding effect on faith or on how one trusts in the Lord. The conversion we seek is not a once-off event but rather a life-long process and it is mostly slow and incremental. Firstly, we need to realise that the idea of conversion is more than not sinning. The traditional Act of Contrition provides a clear window to what true conversion should be. “… I detest my sins because they deserve your just punishment but most of all because they offend you my God whom I should love with all my heart …”.
If our reason for avoiding sin springs from a fear either of being condemned to hell or of the loss of heaven, that is classified as an imperfect contrition. No doubt, it will help us get to heaven. However, since God has invited us into His life, should our motivation not come from our love for Him and flow from a profound sorrow for offending Him whom we should love with all heart. Conversion is always seeking the face of the Lord and faith is trusting that God will always be where we are.
Thus, watchfulness is important because we can be trapped behind a materialistic worldview. Our possessions can blind us to the reality of God’s presence. A glaring form of materialism is an expectation flowing from a familiar model that informs the pattern of our relationship. How many of us feel that just because we have sacrifice so much for God, should He not be bound to reward us? How many of us who have given time to the Church, which is considered a kind of rendering to God His due, feel dumbstruck when a tragedy hits us?
The common question raised is “Why me, Lord?”. The point is whenever bad things happen, we immediately feel done to or victimised because the basis for our engagement with God is based on a reward—punishment model. It is even reflected in the familiar Christmas carol: “Santa Claus is coming to town”. “You better watch out because God is making a list of who is naughty or nice”.
I am fascinated by the love that St Bernadette had for the Lord. She was given a great gift to share with the world but she herself was never to profit from the gift of healing. She suffered greatly from the tuberculosis of the lungs and bones. Imagine how she would have felt? For many of us, there will be a deep sense of betrayal, a sense that our God has no loyalty at all. It is a bit like how St Teresa of Avila felt when she was climbing out of the ditch in her religious regalia muttering about Jesus inconveniencing her.
How do saints love God?
They love God or rather their love for God has never been a matter of reward. There is, without a doubt, a reward that follows from our love for God. We will gain eternal life when we keep the commandments of Christ. And yet, this still falls within the realm of the “material” gain for the good that we are. To be rewarded should be, in other words, a by-product for loving God and never the main focus.
We live in an age where self-care is considered central to one’s mental health. How often do we hear that “health is wealth”? Or we should find space for rest and etc. In fact, some might hold a view that the Prayer for Generosity is really dangerous as it is inimical to self-care. “Lord, teach me to serve and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds”. The freedom to embrace such a life that pays scant attention to one’s well-being can only come from someone has fallen deeply in love with Jesus and are enamoured by Him so much so he or she is willing to pour out or lay down his or her life for Him. When St Paul stated this, it was not because the sacrifice of Christ was incomplete, but rather because he has come to live for Christ alone. “I complete in my body the suffering lacking in the body of Christ”. Here was a disciple in love with His Lord.
It makes sense that Christ asks His disciples to be watchful because His coming would be unannounced. This alertness carries with it an attitude of detachment and whilst the reward may be great, one remains attentive independent of what the reward is like. The faith that we are called to must be buoyed or supported by a loving relationship very much like a lover waiting for the beloved to return. In other words, in a time of uncertainty and waiting, what remains for the disciple is a longing, a kind of aching for the Lord to come. Come what may and even though nothing is certain, what is enough for the disciple is that Christ will come and that is sufficient for the disciple to keep faith and to love whilst waiting for Him.
Sunday, 3 August 2025
18th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
We ended on a note that invites us to conversion last Sunday. There seems to be a continuation of the same theme today. A common notion of conversion is to conceive of it in terms of turning away from sin. It is, in a narrow sense, a call to repentance.
What is it to be converted? The Greek word “metanoia” can be translated as repentance or a change of heart. The word repentance suggests a turning away from sin but the notion of a change of heart is a bit more encompassing and wholistic because it is more than refraining from sin. A change of heart involves a profound transformation of a person’s perspective.
In the 1st Reading, the author of the Ecclesiastes decries the vanity of vanities arising from the fleeting nature of existence. It is not a matter of vain-glorious delusion per se but rather a kind of realisation that temporality is weaved into the very fabric of life. Nothing is permanent. In fact, the Psalmist reminds us that, like grass, we are here today and gone tomorrow.
From the Lord Himself, we catch a glimpse of what it means to be converted. In the Gospel passage, a man asks for a fair share of his inheritance. Rather than acting as arbitrator in a property dispute, Jesus responded by detailing the parable of the rich farmer who had more than enough. This man harvested a bumper crop thus granting him more than he needed. Instead of sharing his excess, and here it is not even demanding that he shared what he needed to survive, the man proceeded to build a far bigger barn to store his excess.
Unbeknownst to him, a demand was made on his soul. It could be a valuable lesson in detachment but more than merely divestment, it is an invitation to weigh in once again on our heavily materialistic outlook in life. There has never been an era in human history where we are awash in material abundance. We eat the best food and the enjoy the greatest creaturely comfort imaginable. Yet we are also the most unfulfilled and miserable.
Perhaps our misery is an eye-opening indication that we are caught in a vortex of unsatisfying materialism. In the Gospel, should the rich farmer give away his excess crop, it would not be a matter of charity. We think of charity from the view of generosity and that it is an expression of our mercy. But according to Pope St Gregory the Great helping the poor is not an act of mercy on our part but rather a debt of justice that we pay. Does anybody think like this at all? We always feel that by giving, we are meritorious when in fact, by giving, we are giving to the poor what is their due.
Just stating that is already quite upsetting, no?
This is where the conversion comes in. The Church has never declared that possession in itself is bad. Wealth is a blessing. However, hoarding can be considered sinful when we accumulate more than we need. The parable basically highlights the folly of greed and avarice. When we are unable to relate to others because we are overly obsessed with accumulation, we know that we are sliding down the wrong slope. In the narrative of Dives and Lazarus, the rich man was not condemned for his wealth. He was judged for not knowing how to use his riches for the greater good.
The conversion we are called to is to recognise wealth more as a stewardship than an ownership. We own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead some of us are blessed with more to govern and to make use of for the good of others. Stewardship is a great responsibility which has been placed upon our shoulders. A notion of stewardship because nothing is ours in the first place can help us appreciate better the idea of Laudato si.
In the 2nd Reading, St Paul urged the Colossians to focus on what is above. In terms of conversion, repentance is to reject sin. What is interesting is the so-called focus on the above. Essentially, we are incomplete and to urge that we part with what we perceive to complete us is akin to recommending that we “commit” suicide. By nature, we are armed with an instinct towards self-preservation. Nobody wants to die to himself or herself unless there is a higher purpose or a reason that can convince us to let go of this present life.
Thus, the conversion proposed is to recover a sense of what is to come after this life. Otherwise, stewardship makes no sense to so many people. The more obscured is our vision of the life to come, the less we would want to part with our wealth. A philanthropist is a lover of mankind. A person who has a great love for humanity might be able to use his or her wealth for the greater good, recognising that all that he or she owns is nothing more than matter of taking care of it. Finally, if a person can see that completion takes place in the afterlife, then there is a greater chance that one can change his or her world-view.
The way for this change to take place is to provide an experience of seeing God for who He is. Greed is a sin because it misses the point that to have a goalother than God is to leave us unsatisfied. As a result, we grab everything thinking that it will make us happy. But death reveals how vacuous earthly desires can be because nobody can bring what he or she owns across the threshold of death. Instead everything is left behind. I read somewhere that when Alexander the Great died, he was placed in an open coffin with both his hands outside showing that he came into world with nothing and that he, the conqueror of countries and continents, is departing the world with nothing. The only treasure that we can accumulate is found in heaven.
Once we recognise that treasure, we might have a greater possibility of loving our wealth only for the good that it can do and never for itself. Our greatest treasure is Jesus Christ. He alone can satisfy our heart’s desire. Conversion is to move from the gifts of the Lover to the love of the Giver. We turn to the Giver for He is our only treasure.
What is it to be converted? The Greek word “metanoia” can be translated as repentance or a change of heart. The word repentance suggests a turning away from sin but the notion of a change of heart is a bit more encompassing and wholistic because it is more than refraining from sin. A change of heart involves a profound transformation of a person’s perspective.
In the 1st Reading, the author of the Ecclesiastes decries the vanity of vanities arising from the fleeting nature of existence. It is not a matter of vain-glorious delusion per se but rather a kind of realisation that temporality is weaved into the very fabric of life. Nothing is permanent. In fact, the Psalmist reminds us that, like grass, we are here today and gone tomorrow.
From the Lord Himself, we catch a glimpse of what it means to be converted. In the Gospel passage, a man asks for a fair share of his inheritance. Rather than acting as arbitrator in a property dispute, Jesus responded by detailing the parable of the rich farmer who had more than enough. This man harvested a bumper crop thus granting him more than he needed. Instead of sharing his excess, and here it is not even demanding that he shared what he needed to survive, the man proceeded to build a far bigger barn to store his excess.
Unbeknownst to him, a demand was made on his soul. It could be a valuable lesson in detachment but more than merely divestment, it is an invitation to weigh in once again on our heavily materialistic outlook in life. There has never been an era in human history where we are awash in material abundance. We eat the best food and the enjoy the greatest creaturely comfort imaginable. Yet we are also the most unfulfilled and miserable.
Perhaps our misery is an eye-opening indication that we are caught in a vortex of unsatisfying materialism. In the Gospel, should the rich farmer give away his excess crop, it would not be a matter of charity. We think of charity from the view of generosity and that it is an expression of our mercy. But according to Pope St Gregory the Great helping the poor is not an act of mercy on our part but rather a debt of justice that we pay. Does anybody think like this at all? We always feel that by giving, we are meritorious when in fact, by giving, we are giving to the poor what is their due.
Just stating that is already quite upsetting, no?
This is where the conversion comes in. The Church has never declared that possession in itself is bad. Wealth is a blessing. However, hoarding can be considered sinful when we accumulate more than we need. The parable basically highlights the folly of greed and avarice. When we are unable to relate to others because we are overly obsessed with accumulation, we know that we are sliding down the wrong slope. In the narrative of Dives and Lazarus, the rich man was not condemned for his wealth. He was judged for not knowing how to use his riches for the greater good.
The conversion we are called to is to recognise wealth more as a stewardship than an ownership. We own nothing. Absolutely nothing. Instead some of us are blessed with more to govern and to make use of for the good of others. Stewardship is a great responsibility which has been placed upon our shoulders. A notion of stewardship because nothing is ours in the first place can help us appreciate better the idea of Laudato si.
In the 2nd Reading, St Paul urged the Colossians to focus on what is above. In terms of conversion, repentance is to reject sin. What is interesting is the so-called focus on the above. Essentially, we are incomplete and to urge that we part with what we perceive to complete us is akin to recommending that we “commit” suicide. By nature, we are armed with an instinct towards self-preservation. Nobody wants to die to himself or herself unless there is a higher purpose or a reason that can convince us to let go of this present life.
Thus, the conversion proposed is to recover a sense of what is to come after this life. Otherwise, stewardship makes no sense to so many people. The more obscured is our vision of the life to come, the less we would want to part with our wealth. A philanthropist is a lover of mankind. A person who has a great love for humanity might be able to use his or her wealth for the greater good, recognising that all that he or she owns is nothing more than matter of taking care of it. Finally, if a person can see that completion takes place in the afterlife, then there is a greater chance that one can change his or her world-view.
The way for this change to take place is to provide an experience of seeing God for who He is. Greed is a sin because it misses the point that to have a goalother than God is to leave us unsatisfied. As a result, we grab everything thinking that it will make us happy. But death reveals how vacuous earthly desires can be because nobody can bring what he or she owns across the threshold of death. Instead everything is left behind. I read somewhere that when Alexander the Great died, he was placed in an open coffin with both his hands outside showing that he came into world with nothing and that he, the conqueror of countries and continents, is departing the world with nothing. The only treasure that we can accumulate is found in heaven.
Once we recognise that treasure, we might have a greater possibility of loving our wealth only for the good that it can do and never for itself. Our greatest treasure is Jesus Christ. He alone can satisfy our heart’s desire. Conversion is to move from the gifts of the Lover to the love of the Giver. We turn to the Giver for He is our only treasure.
Sunday, 27 July 2025
17th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
The common thread running through the 1st Reading and the Gospel is prayer. Abraham pleaded with God on behalf of many innocent citizens of Sodom and Gomorrah. The exchange between God and Abraham revealed the generosity of God. Abraham kept lowering the criterion for redemption and God acceded until a point where He could go no lower.
Whatever was the sin of Sodom or Gomorrah, the point was God’s readiness to save. While the Lord is ever—ready, the question remains. What can God really accomplish or what can God not do? It is a weird question when one considers God’s sovereignty. He can do whatever He wants but in the interaction between Abraham and God, we need to consider that there may be limits to God’s “freedom”.
There is such a thing as the trajectory of sin. What the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was is not the point here. At present, some might dispute “sodomy” to be a sin but suffice to say that an unrepentant attitude puts a limit to God’s generosity.
God is not like Shylock who demands a pound of flesh. As the Responsorial Psalm goes, “On the day I called, You answered me”. In the case of Sodom and Gomorrah, even God Himself was searching for compromises against what was supposed to be the consequence of a trajectory.
A survey of our gastronomic habits might help us to understand the consequence of a trajectory. We are in the midst of a health epidemic. Firstly, our eating habits border on hedonism. We prioritise pleasure to the extent that the goal of eating is no longer nourishment but consumption. In fact, we eat more than we need. Our food is laden with additives and most of all with sugar. If a person were to eat, eat and eat, the result would be obesity with its attendant diabetes and a good measure of hypertension. Likewise, no matter what God could do and what Abraham hoped to achieved, both Sodom and Gomorrah were doomed from the start.
Success or failure, the experience of Abraham teaches us how important praying is. Our praying should be persistent. We should persevere because in the Gospel passage, Jesus in response to the Disciples requesting Him to teach them how to pray, cited the example of a persistent friend. Persistence paid off, for the man in house who had refused to be inconvenienced, finally responded to the friend’s persistent pleading.
In other words, God wants to answer our prayers as long as we are not shy in asking. But not all prayers can be answered nor all petitions be granted. We should temper our expectations which begs the question of Who this God is and what we should expect of Him. In short, what sort of relationship do we have with God?
For a few scientifically minded, God is like a watch-maker. This notion is closely associated with Deism. It emphasises a deity who created the universe and does not intervene in its affairs. Much like the creator of a watch who sets the time device into motion leaving it to run on its own. We are comfortable with this kind of a distant God because we can rely on reason and natural laws to explain the universe instead of resorting to religious texts or revelation.
The opposite of a watch-maker is a deity involved in the world. Closely linked to an involved God is a moralistic therapeutic deity who desires that humanity be good, happy and to feel good about themselves. In other words, God’s role is to make people happy and since happiness is paramount, then anything that makes demands on us should to be downplayed. The organising principle in life is convenience which translates into non-demanding, non-threatening commandments.
The idea of a therapeutic deity coincides with our sense of entitlement. We expect a god who bends to our will not realising that God may not be able to and that is not because He does not want to.
Why?
Pope Francis was right in his inspiration in highlighting the ecological crisis. We cannot continue in the manner we devour the earth’s resources. Our consumption is out of control and it is not a matter of environment destruction or climate change that is challenging. Rather, we have been careless but we expect the Lord to fix or solve the consequences of our ecological irresponsibility.
An area of great concern for us is health. Many are sick and it feels that God does not seem to hear our prayers for their healing. But think about the ease with which we “tapau” (take-away) our food without second thoughts. Have we ever consider the amount of plastic that leaches into our food due to the high heat of our soup and sauces? Can the Lord still hear our prayers even if we have no regard in the manner of our consumption?
God wants to answer our prayers but if we are consuming ourselves to death, there is nothing He can do even when we pray persistently.
The bulk of our prayer is petitionary in nature. We are perpetually petitioning God to intervene in a trajectory which we do not take responsibility for. The plastic we have ingested. The medication we have consumed. Ironically the prophylactic or preventative medicines we use to prolong our lives may also be hastening our death. It is a known fact that the long-term use of pharmaceuticals to solve a medical problem causes side effects which result in organ damage.
People ask, “Where is God in my prayers?”. Are we expecting God to do magic? On the one hand, Jesus asks us to pray and to petition the Father. We should. And yet within that petition, it is not supposed to be a gimme, gimme, gimme because we are entitled to. Rather, our prayers must also include the element of doing God’s will.
We may be living in an age of entitlement but salvation is not automatic. It cannot be imposed, because we must desire it. Hence, are we ready to pay the price? In the case of our petitionary prayers, the God who created us without our consent cannot save us without our consent. If we take the hint from the second reading, it speaks of entering into Christ death. Thus, salvation is ours but we must desire it. And therefore we must work for it. But not in a way as if we merit salvation through our efforts but rather, we dispose ourselves to God’s salvation.
The whole idea of salvation is therefore a call to the conversion of heart. If the heart is not involved, no matter what, the Lord cannot do much. Anyway, if you did not know it, petitionary prayer is also prayer for conversion. It is not just asking for God’s favour but also asking that we change to fit into God’s will and also carries with it an acute awareness that there is a price to pay for our sins.
Whatever was the sin of Sodom or Gomorrah, the point was God’s readiness to save. While the Lord is ever—ready, the question remains. What can God really accomplish or what can God not do? It is a weird question when one considers God’s sovereignty. He can do whatever He wants but in the interaction between Abraham and God, we need to consider that there may be limits to God’s “freedom”.
There is such a thing as the trajectory of sin. What the sin of Sodom and Gomorrah was is not the point here. At present, some might dispute “sodomy” to be a sin but suffice to say that an unrepentant attitude puts a limit to God’s generosity.
God is not like Shylock who demands a pound of flesh. As the Responsorial Psalm goes, “On the day I called, You answered me”. In the case of Sodom and Gomorrah, even God Himself was searching for compromises against what was supposed to be the consequence of a trajectory.
A survey of our gastronomic habits might help us to understand the consequence of a trajectory. We are in the midst of a health epidemic. Firstly, our eating habits border on hedonism. We prioritise pleasure to the extent that the goal of eating is no longer nourishment but consumption. In fact, we eat more than we need. Our food is laden with additives and most of all with sugar. If a person were to eat, eat and eat, the result would be obesity with its attendant diabetes and a good measure of hypertension. Likewise, no matter what God could do and what Abraham hoped to achieved, both Sodom and Gomorrah were doomed from the start.
Success or failure, the experience of Abraham teaches us how important praying is. Our praying should be persistent. We should persevere because in the Gospel passage, Jesus in response to the Disciples requesting Him to teach them how to pray, cited the example of a persistent friend. Persistence paid off, for the man in house who had refused to be inconvenienced, finally responded to the friend’s persistent pleading.
In other words, God wants to answer our prayers as long as we are not shy in asking. But not all prayers can be answered nor all petitions be granted. We should temper our expectations which begs the question of Who this God is and what we should expect of Him. In short, what sort of relationship do we have with God?
For a few scientifically minded, God is like a watch-maker. This notion is closely associated with Deism. It emphasises a deity who created the universe and does not intervene in its affairs. Much like the creator of a watch who sets the time device into motion leaving it to run on its own. We are comfortable with this kind of a distant God because we can rely on reason and natural laws to explain the universe instead of resorting to religious texts or revelation.
The opposite of a watch-maker is a deity involved in the world. Closely linked to an involved God is a moralistic therapeutic deity who desires that humanity be good, happy and to feel good about themselves. In other words, God’s role is to make people happy and since happiness is paramount, then anything that makes demands on us should to be downplayed. The organising principle in life is convenience which translates into non-demanding, non-threatening commandments.
The idea of a therapeutic deity coincides with our sense of entitlement. We expect a god who bends to our will not realising that God may not be able to and that is not because He does not want to.
Why?
Pope Francis was right in his inspiration in highlighting the ecological crisis. We cannot continue in the manner we devour the earth’s resources. Our consumption is out of control and it is not a matter of environment destruction or climate change that is challenging. Rather, we have been careless but we expect the Lord to fix or solve the consequences of our ecological irresponsibility.
An area of great concern for us is health. Many are sick and it feels that God does not seem to hear our prayers for their healing. But think about the ease with which we “tapau” (take-away) our food without second thoughts. Have we ever consider the amount of plastic that leaches into our food due to the high heat of our soup and sauces? Can the Lord still hear our prayers even if we have no regard in the manner of our consumption?
God wants to answer our prayers but if we are consuming ourselves to death, there is nothing He can do even when we pray persistently.
The bulk of our prayer is petitionary in nature. We are perpetually petitioning God to intervene in a trajectory which we do not take responsibility for. The plastic we have ingested. The medication we have consumed. Ironically the prophylactic or preventative medicines we use to prolong our lives may also be hastening our death. It is a known fact that the long-term use of pharmaceuticals to solve a medical problem causes side effects which result in organ damage.
People ask, “Where is God in my prayers?”. Are we expecting God to do magic? On the one hand, Jesus asks us to pray and to petition the Father. We should. And yet within that petition, it is not supposed to be a gimme, gimme, gimme because we are entitled to. Rather, our prayers must also include the element of doing God’s will.
We may be living in an age of entitlement but salvation is not automatic. It cannot be imposed, because we must desire it. Hence, are we ready to pay the price? In the case of our petitionary prayers, the God who created us without our consent cannot save us without our consent. If we take the hint from the second reading, it speaks of entering into Christ death. Thus, salvation is ours but we must desire it. And therefore we must work for it. But not in a way as if we merit salvation through our efforts but rather, we dispose ourselves to God’s salvation.
The whole idea of salvation is therefore a call to the conversion of heart. If the heart is not involved, no matter what, the Lord cannot do much. Anyway, if you did not know it, petitionary prayer is also prayer for conversion. It is not just asking for God’s favour but also asking that we change to fit into God’s will and also carries with it an acute awareness that there is a price to pay for our sins.
It sounds rather negative to end with “paying the price of sin”. It is not but it illustrates the truth of our salvation. Recall the Calvary conversation between Christ and the repentant thief. It highlights the difference between forgiveness and paying the consequence of one’s sins. Christ promised the repentant thief that he would be in heaven. But He did not come down from His cross to remove the repentant thief from his suffering. Forgiveness was expressed through the promise of heaven. Whereas the repentant thief who was on the way to heaven still needed to do his so-called “penance”, that is, to be responsible for his actions and their consequences.
Sunday, 20 July 2025
16th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
Memes of neologism can convey snippets of wisdom and I have a couple and they capture the zeitgeist in which we live in. One is basically “Cellfish” spelt with a “c” or “cell” rather than “s” or “sel” denoting that a person uses a mobile device in a rather rude and selfish manner, that is, listening loudly or playing a movie without care for others around them. It has become an accepted norm now in cafes, buses, aeroplanes etc. The other one is “textpectation” defined as the anticipation for a reply after one has texted. We demand our answers and solutions not today but yesterday.
Ironically we have machines after machines and “mod-cons” to simplify our tasks and also to buy us time and yet, we are frenetic or frantic, always having no time.
Today the Gospel invites us to slow down and to take time out from our busy schedules. Last Sunday’s Good Samaritan may also be seen from the view of slowing down. The other two were in a hurry to go somewhere whereas the Samaritan practically slowed down, took the time to nurse the injured. This week, we have Martha and Mary who had invited Jesus. Rightly so Martha was busy preparing to host whereas Mary was seated as she contemplated Jesus by listening to Him speak. The Samaritan was an outsider. Likewise, was Mary. She was truly unusual, for women were outsiders too, as they were segregated or separated from the main congregation. Mary broke with social convention by sitting at the feet of the Lord and Saviour.
It is life to sit and contemplate the Lord.
The earlier mentioned memes of neologisms reveal us, who we are, to ourselves. We are entertaining ourselves to oblivion and we are impatient and are unable to wait. Instead we feel entitled to having the answers at our fingertips. Anytime and anywhere they must be available to us. Furthermore, there is too much electronic noise in our lives. We have become so used to the humming and hawing that we seem to have accepted that peace or quiet is unavailable to us.
But digital detox might be what we all need. There is no way to detox except to take time off. We may be able to cram a lot but no matter how much we can fit into a frame of time, what remains is that certain things will need time to unfold. Just like baking a cake or ageing wine. Maybe one can be efficient in the use of time but time too has to behave according to its created nature. Time passes at the mercy and will of God.
In order to contemplate the Lord, there is no possibility we can rush the experience. In other words, there is no quicker way to heaven. What may be the common experience thus far is the fear of losing out. It is possibly a Malaysian or Asian trait that whenever a tour is organised, it is meant to achieve as much as possible for fear of losing out. Therefore, people want to fill up whatever activities as captured by this slogan—pack more life into your years, rather having more years in your life. A long life is preferable but for every year one lives, one must ensure that it is lived efficiently—quite the kind of philosophy we have these days.
It misses the point of what life is supposed to be. Right now, the trend is to jump onto the latest flow, Artificial Intelligence. Without reflecting on the ethical implications of unmitigated use of Artificial Intelligence, we are ushered into embracing it so that we will not be left behind.
Trend hopping has a way of distracting us from the flow of a contemplative life. The recovery of this dimension is central to our overall well-being. Nothing is more destructive to the human psyche than the uncontrolled stress of activism.
What has happened is that people are driven to search for that kind of connection with God which they seem to believe is missing in Catholicism or Christianity. They have sought alternatives in Buddhism or any one of those spiritual or new age movement which they think can overcome the lack in Christianity. Therefore Jesus was right. A prophet is not accepted in his own country. There are Catholics who fail to recognise the sublime gift of their faith which they had received in their childhood.
It is a shame and Mary’s experience sitting at Christ’s feet reveals that such a spiritual relationship cannot be manufactured. It can only be cultivated. Christ is the Prince of peace and sitting at His feet is the start of contemplation and spirituality. Spontaneity is truly over-rated. It may be creative, fun and novel but it can lead to indiscipline. No matter how exhilarating spontaneity is, life is basically rhythm.
Regularity establishes a sense of connexion far better than leaving things to chance. To sit with the Lord basically requires a regular schedule and in order to be with and desire Him, more than anything else, there is an urgent need to recover the notion of heaven. Without heaven and given that our vision is short-sighted we will be driven to look for quick-fixes and instant gratification. Heaven is beatific and there will be times that being with Him may just take us beyond this world. If the time is right, we arrive there through the portal of death. Whereas without a notion of heaven, the desire to be with Him will never be attractive enough. Finally, a point to remember for those of us who are constantly rushing is that being in a hurry to live is at the same time being in a hurry to die. In that case, what is death for? Who are we living for and who are we dying for, if not for the Lord.
Ironically we have machines after machines and “mod-cons” to simplify our tasks and also to buy us time and yet, we are frenetic or frantic, always having no time.
Today the Gospel invites us to slow down and to take time out from our busy schedules. Last Sunday’s Good Samaritan may also be seen from the view of slowing down. The other two were in a hurry to go somewhere whereas the Samaritan practically slowed down, took the time to nurse the injured. This week, we have Martha and Mary who had invited Jesus. Rightly so Martha was busy preparing to host whereas Mary was seated as she contemplated Jesus by listening to Him speak. The Samaritan was an outsider. Likewise, was Mary. She was truly unusual, for women were outsiders too, as they were segregated or separated from the main congregation. Mary broke with social convention by sitting at the feet of the Lord and Saviour.
It is life to sit and contemplate the Lord.
The earlier mentioned memes of neologisms reveal us, who we are, to ourselves. We are entertaining ourselves to oblivion and we are impatient and are unable to wait. Instead we feel entitled to having the answers at our fingertips. Anytime and anywhere they must be available to us. Furthermore, there is too much electronic noise in our lives. We have become so used to the humming and hawing that we seem to have accepted that peace or quiet is unavailable to us.
But digital detox might be what we all need. There is no way to detox except to take time off. We may be able to cram a lot but no matter how much we can fit into a frame of time, what remains is that certain things will need time to unfold. Just like baking a cake or ageing wine. Maybe one can be efficient in the use of time but time too has to behave according to its created nature. Time passes at the mercy and will of God.
In order to contemplate the Lord, there is no possibility we can rush the experience. In other words, there is no quicker way to heaven. What may be the common experience thus far is the fear of losing out. It is possibly a Malaysian or Asian trait that whenever a tour is organised, it is meant to achieve as much as possible for fear of losing out. Therefore, people want to fill up whatever activities as captured by this slogan—pack more life into your years, rather having more years in your life. A long life is preferable but for every year one lives, one must ensure that it is lived efficiently—quite the kind of philosophy we have these days.
It misses the point of what life is supposed to be. Right now, the trend is to jump onto the latest flow, Artificial Intelligence. Without reflecting on the ethical implications of unmitigated use of Artificial Intelligence, we are ushered into embracing it so that we will not be left behind.
Trend hopping has a way of distracting us from the flow of a contemplative life. The recovery of this dimension is central to our overall well-being. Nothing is more destructive to the human psyche than the uncontrolled stress of activism.
What has happened is that people are driven to search for that kind of connection with God which they seem to believe is missing in Catholicism or Christianity. They have sought alternatives in Buddhism or any one of those spiritual or new age movement which they think can overcome the lack in Christianity. Therefore Jesus was right. A prophet is not accepted in his own country. There are Catholics who fail to recognise the sublime gift of their faith which they had received in their childhood.
It is a shame and Mary’s experience sitting at Christ’s feet reveals that such a spiritual relationship cannot be manufactured. It can only be cultivated. Christ is the Prince of peace and sitting at His feet is the start of contemplation and spirituality. Spontaneity is truly over-rated. It may be creative, fun and novel but it can lead to indiscipline. No matter how exhilarating spontaneity is, life is basically rhythm.
Regularity establishes a sense of connexion far better than leaving things to chance. To sit with the Lord basically requires a regular schedule and in order to be with and desire Him, more than anything else, there is an urgent need to recover the notion of heaven. Without heaven and given that our vision is short-sighted we will be driven to look for quick-fixes and instant gratification. Heaven is beatific and there will be times that being with Him may just take us beyond this world. If the time is right, we arrive there through the portal of death. Whereas without a notion of heaven, the desire to be with Him will never be attractive enough. Finally, a point to remember for those of us who are constantly rushing is that being in a hurry to live is at the same time being in a hurry to die. In that case, what is death for? Who are we living for and who are we dying for, if not for the Lord.
Sunday, 13 July 2025
15th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
During this period of Ordinary Time, we explore a theme that forms a part of Christian living. It is neighbourliness. In the case of the other two Synoptic Gospels, Jesus is tested on His priorities and so they posed Him the question on which the greatest commandment is. In Mark and Matthew, Jesus pointed to the Shema of Dt 6:5 on how one should love God and also to Lv 19:18 on how one should love the neighbour. Luke’s Gospel carries an interesting twist. A lawyer shows interest in eternal life and what he should do to merit or inherit it. Instead of answering directly, Jesus first draws both the biblical quotations from Deuteronomy and Leviticus out of the lawyer. In response to the man’s desire to justify himself, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan to illustrate the full meaning of who or what a neighbour is.
The biblical background of the Samaritan shows that despite him being despised, he is even more law-abiding than the listeners, who are mostly Jews—symbolised by the Levite and the priest passing by and avoiding the injured man. In using a class of people whose status is questionable, Jesus intends to show that God’s love is not provincial, for it is blind or impervious to colour and creed, culture and class. To do good is godly or divine and the only criterion for action is that someone needs help.
When one thinks of assistance or being helpful, there are no good Samaritans in Japan. If there is a person of Japanese origin in the congregation, this might sound shocking to hear that there are no good Samaritans in Japan. Or even in Korea too. Before you pick up a stone, the statement is not meant to denigrate as it is to invite one to probe a little deeper. The word Samaritan is synonymous with a person who reaches out to others through acts of selfless behaviour. When a person does not care about himself or herself but sets out to do good, we are fascinated or inspired. But should we be amazed by a kindness that reaches out? Perhaps this is better appreciated when we look at the familiar experience of clutter-blindness, meaning that when everyone is good, then a person’s kindness or generosity will not stand out. We will basically take it for granted, just like clutter-blindness—that such “Samaritan” behaviour is normal and routinely to be expected. Apparently, in Japan, regularly, lost items are returned to their owners.
Call it is social values or religious up-bringing, the result is a culture where there is a high degree of human solidarity. Individuals behave in a manner which enriches society as a whole. Just as when the tide rises, all boats are raised or as the climate-change proponent would say, the islands disappear. The point is, when everyone is kind, then nobody’s kindness will in any way be exceptional.
Instead what we have is the proliferation of the service industry. The existence of such an industry is itself a tell-tale sign of why kindness should not be exceptional but ordinary. The very fact that we need to pay for someone to treat us better is really saying something about the state of our solidarity.
In the past, the Catholic Church ran one of the largest, if not the most extensive network of hospitals and schools. Prior to the advent of government-sponsored medical and educational services, health-care and scholarship were expressions of two priorities of the Church. Firstly, it was the out-reach of the Good Samaritan. Both educating the young and caring for the sick were expressions of this parable. No one was turned away from schools or hospitals. Especially so when you consider all the orders, congregations and institutes founded to provide health care and education for the poor. Secondly, our Samaritan outreach was not based on an ideology. To reach out to others is to reach out to Christ Himself. “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me”.
The question posed by the lawyer can now be turned on its head. Using the parable of the Last Judgement in Matthew 25, where the sheep and the goats are separated, the criterion for differentiating is based on what one has done or found to be deficient in so doing. The result is rather stark. One is either redeemed or condemned. Such a system where one is rewarded or punished can generate a sense of guilt. Sadly, one is driven to act only because one is fearful. Perhaps we can detect the same fear with respect to the Church’s obligations. We are left with the guilt of “go to Mass or else”.
Excellence or nobility demands that we go beyond the criterion of the Last Judgement, that is, to transcend reward or punishment. The question of who my neighbour is may invite me to look out or search for them. They are out there and I am supposed to find them. But if the question were rephrased as to whom I am a neighbour or to whom have I been a neighbour, the change in perspective is profound.
It becomes an introspective exercise inviting me to look more at my thoughts and behaviour. This is challenging because it now becomes a matter for the examination of my conscience. I become more conscious of the shadows lurking in my thoughts and reactions. I may be kind to someone and then the motive could be that I am just doing my duty and no more. Thus being kind to someone also invites me to purify my motivation.
What draws me to be a neighbour? The answer and motivation is Jesus Christ. Am I able to see Jesus in everyone. Or is my vision filtered? Do I see Him whom I should love and adore? Or am I driven by narrow parameters like race and religion or by selfish and material considerations. According to St Paul, Jesus is the image of the unseen God. By the same token of Matthew’s 25chapter, every man, woman and child is an image of the invisible Jesus.
The Parable of the Good Samaritan should make us look for Jesus. Slogans that inspire actions can only go so far. There is a quote floating around attributed to Mother Teresa of Calcutta where, it seemed, she was asked about what to propose to young people and her reply was “Give them Jesus, only Jesus, always Jesus”.
Her entire life was premised on Who Jesus was to her and for her. Every action of hers was never to fulfil a slogan nor to meet some indices of achievement or accomplishment. Instead, she saw Jesus in every person she came across. She was a neighbour to everyone because she loved the Jesus in everyone she met and served. Maybe we can follow her example.
The biblical background of the Samaritan shows that despite him being despised, he is even more law-abiding than the listeners, who are mostly Jews—symbolised by the Levite and the priest passing by and avoiding the injured man. In using a class of people whose status is questionable, Jesus intends to show that God’s love is not provincial, for it is blind or impervious to colour and creed, culture and class. To do good is godly or divine and the only criterion for action is that someone needs help.
When one thinks of assistance or being helpful, there are no good Samaritans in Japan. If there is a person of Japanese origin in the congregation, this might sound shocking to hear that there are no good Samaritans in Japan. Or even in Korea too. Before you pick up a stone, the statement is not meant to denigrate as it is to invite one to probe a little deeper. The word Samaritan is synonymous with a person who reaches out to others through acts of selfless behaviour. When a person does not care about himself or herself but sets out to do good, we are fascinated or inspired. But should we be amazed by a kindness that reaches out? Perhaps this is better appreciated when we look at the familiar experience of clutter-blindness, meaning that when everyone is good, then a person’s kindness or generosity will not stand out. We will basically take it for granted, just like clutter-blindness—that such “Samaritan” behaviour is normal and routinely to be expected. Apparently, in Japan, regularly, lost items are returned to their owners.
Call it is social values or religious up-bringing, the result is a culture where there is a high degree of human solidarity. Individuals behave in a manner which enriches society as a whole. Just as when the tide rises, all boats are raised or as the climate-change proponent would say, the islands disappear. The point is, when everyone is kind, then nobody’s kindness will in any way be exceptional.
Instead what we have is the proliferation of the service industry. The existence of such an industry is itself a tell-tale sign of why kindness should not be exceptional but ordinary. The very fact that we need to pay for someone to treat us better is really saying something about the state of our solidarity.
In the past, the Catholic Church ran one of the largest, if not the most extensive network of hospitals and schools. Prior to the advent of government-sponsored medical and educational services, health-care and scholarship were expressions of two priorities of the Church. Firstly, it was the out-reach of the Good Samaritan. Both educating the young and caring for the sick were expressions of this parable. No one was turned away from schools or hospitals. Especially so when you consider all the orders, congregations and institutes founded to provide health care and education for the poor. Secondly, our Samaritan outreach was not based on an ideology. To reach out to others is to reach out to Christ Himself. “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brothers, that you do unto me”.
The question posed by the lawyer can now be turned on its head. Using the parable of the Last Judgement in Matthew 25, where the sheep and the goats are separated, the criterion for differentiating is based on what one has done or found to be deficient in so doing. The result is rather stark. One is either redeemed or condemned. Such a system where one is rewarded or punished can generate a sense of guilt. Sadly, one is driven to act only because one is fearful. Perhaps we can detect the same fear with respect to the Church’s obligations. We are left with the guilt of “go to Mass or else”.
Excellence or nobility demands that we go beyond the criterion of the Last Judgement, that is, to transcend reward or punishment. The question of who my neighbour is may invite me to look out or search for them. They are out there and I am supposed to find them. But if the question were rephrased as to whom I am a neighbour or to whom have I been a neighbour, the change in perspective is profound.
It becomes an introspective exercise inviting me to look more at my thoughts and behaviour. This is challenging because it now becomes a matter for the examination of my conscience. I become more conscious of the shadows lurking in my thoughts and reactions. I may be kind to someone and then the motive could be that I am just doing my duty and no more. Thus being kind to someone also invites me to purify my motivation.
What draws me to be a neighbour? The answer and motivation is Jesus Christ. Am I able to see Jesus in everyone. Or is my vision filtered? Do I see Him whom I should love and adore? Or am I driven by narrow parameters like race and religion or by selfish and material considerations. According to St Paul, Jesus is the image of the unseen God. By the same token of Matthew’s 25chapter, every man, woman and child is an image of the invisible Jesus.
The Parable of the Good Samaritan should make us look for Jesus. Slogans that inspire actions can only go so far. There is a quote floating around attributed to Mother Teresa of Calcutta where, it seemed, she was asked about what to propose to young people and her reply was “Give them Jesus, only Jesus, always Jesus”.
Her entire life was premised on Who Jesus was to her and for her. Every action of hers was never to fulfil a slogan nor to meet some indices of achievement or accomplishment. Instead, she saw Jesus in every person she came across. She was a neighbour to everyone because she loved the Jesus in everyone she met and served. Maybe we can follow her example.
Sunday, 6 July 2025
14th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2025
This Sunday’s theme calls for a story that is familiar to many of us. It is the story of four people who are simply named Everybody, Somebody, Anybody and Nobody. It flows into the narrative of today’s focus—the task of evangelisation.
You may have heard this before but it bears repeating that there was an important task to be carried out. Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it. But Nobody did it. Consequently, Somebody got angry about that since it was Everybody’s job. But then Everybody thought Anybody could do it. Nobody realised that Everybody would not do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.
Last Sunday, we celebrated Ss Peter and Paul. The Pope may have an important duty but it is not his alone. In the past we had an army of priests and religious. Apart from their pastoral duties, they also took care of our religious formation. Some of us are old enough to remember the strict discipline of the Brothers or Sisters in our schools. We were content to accept their ministration. Today, we still have that kind of complacency—meaning that in terms of faith formation, we tend to wash our hands off our responsibility.
A good example of taking up responsibility can be found in a neighbouring parish. Our Sunday School population has somewhat exploded due to “migration”, not immigration from Singapore but migration from a neighbouring parish. Why? The Sunday School programme there is pushing parents to take a more active role in imparting the faith in their children. In other words, faith is caught at home more than it is taught at catechism.
Our culture is increasingly louder, figuratively speaking. We are together alone meaning that we may be together but in actually we are more alone than ever before. The Pandemic’s social distancing may just be the outward expression of what we have been doing ever since the advent of social media. Ironical that it is called “social” media because it is supposed to connect us socially through electronic media when in fact it has increasingly locked us behind the walls of idealised expectations. We do not interact with each other in a real world but communicate in such a way that leads us to fantasise on more ideal connections. Idealised fantasies make for loneliness because reality often fails to meet one’s expectations.
The result is “louder”. Our speech is no longer intended to connect us more closely but it has to be louder because “I need to shout in order to convince you”. The evangelical enterprise is much harder to carry out because we are trapped behind the walls of our own thoughts.
With such a challenge, the story of the Fourbodies become real for us. The description of the Church as synodal may just be a way of escaping this prison of our own making. We are prodded to take responsibility for the Church by being accountable for our beliefs. What is negative is that we might just be swayed by present currents.
What sort of winds blows?
Firstly, it concerns a short-sightedness in our spiritual vision. Because we cannot fathom heaven’s rewards that come after a life of surmounting challenges, we try to turn the vision around to make the world more like heaven or rather to lower heaven’s goal to fit our vision. In that way, we focus more on the rewards that the world can give. We struggle to put aside or delay our gratification believing that reward has to be in this world.
Thus we shy from struggles and suffering. Why suffer when pleasure is readily available.
Secondly, we have to adjust our reward system. Admittedly, the 72 came back rejoicing that even demons submit themselves. They have power over the forces of evil. So, they rejoiced because they could see the result of their work. How often have we been disappointed by the lack of fruits? We labour in the Lord’s vineyard and sometimes we might not see the fruits of our blood, sweat and tears.
The lot of the labourers is to trust in God for He is the Lord of the harvest.
Secular culture proposes a system of reward which is this worldly. It only knows this world and thus it is a material form of reward. But life eternal is another reward which we should work for. Christ Himself did say, “Work for treasures that do not fade”.
However, to propose a system of reward that is other worldly is still to be trapped in a way which is basically “materialistic” even though it is located in a spiritual realm. Reward must come from a kind of satisfaction provided by God Himself and there is no measure to it. In a recent retreat we were all posed this question. “Am I driven or am I drawn?” Even spiritual reward can carry with it a certain drive. One is driven to work and driven to succeed etc. But drawn is another matter altogether. Can I be drawn by God for Himself. I am drawn to follow Him to the ends of the earth for no matter where He is, there is home.
In a way, this “home” is alluded in the experience of the 72 as they enter houses. Give peace, eat and drink whatever is set before them. There is a certain placidness in this posture which shows that one is at “home” for where Christ is preached, there is home. Bringing the Gospel to the world is definitely challenging and it can be lonely but it makes sense of what St Paul says in the 2nd Reading. The marks of Christ’s Cross on one’s body is not a curse but it is the greatest witness to the truth of the Gospel, the good news that a world is longing for.
You may have heard this before but it bears repeating that there was an important task to be carried out. Everybody was sure that Somebody would do it. Anybody could have done it. But Nobody did it. Consequently, Somebody got angry about that since it was Everybody’s job. But then Everybody thought Anybody could do it. Nobody realised that Everybody would not do it. It ended up that Everybody blamed Somebody when Nobody did what Anybody could have done.
Last Sunday, we celebrated Ss Peter and Paul. The Pope may have an important duty but it is not his alone. In the past we had an army of priests and religious. Apart from their pastoral duties, they also took care of our religious formation. Some of us are old enough to remember the strict discipline of the Brothers or Sisters in our schools. We were content to accept their ministration. Today, we still have that kind of complacency—meaning that in terms of faith formation, we tend to wash our hands off our responsibility.
A good example of taking up responsibility can be found in a neighbouring parish. Our Sunday School population has somewhat exploded due to “migration”, not immigration from Singapore but migration from a neighbouring parish. Why? The Sunday School programme there is pushing parents to take a more active role in imparting the faith in their children. In other words, faith is caught at home more than it is taught at catechism.
Our culture is increasingly louder, figuratively speaking. We are together alone meaning that we may be together but in actually we are more alone than ever before. The Pandemic’s social distancing may just be the outward expression of what we have been doing ever since the advent of social media. Ironical that it is called “social” media because it is supposed to connect us socially through electronic media when in fact it has increasingly locked us behind the walls of idealised expectations. We do not interact with each other in a real world but communicate in such a way that leads us to fantasise on more ideal connections. Idealised fantasies make for loneliness because reality often fails to meet one’s expectations.
The result is “louder”. Our speech is no longer intended to connect us more closely but it has to be louder because “I need to shout in order to convince you”. The evangelical enterprise is much harder to carry out because we are trapped behind the walls of our own thoughts.
With such a challenge, the story of the Fourbodies become real for us. The description of the Church as synodal may just be a way of escaping this prison of our own making. We are prodded to take responsibility for the Church by being accountable for our beliefs. What is negative is that we might just be swayed by present currents.
What sort of winds blows?
Firstly, it concerns a short-sightedness in our spiritual vision. Because we cannot fathom heaven’s rewards that come after a life of surmounting challenges, we try to turn the vision around to make the world more like heaven or rather to lower heaven’s goal to fit our vision. In that way, we focus more on the rewards that the world can give. We struggle to put aside or delay our gratification believing that reward has to be in this world.
Thus we shy from struggles and suffering. Why suffer when pleasure is readily available.
Secondly, we have to adjust our reward system. Admittedly, the 72 came back rejoicing that even demons submit themselves. They have power over the forces of evil. So, they rejoiced because they could see the result of their work. How often have we been disappointed by the lack of fruits? We labour in the Lord’s vineyard and sometimes we might not see the fruits of our blood, sweat and tears.
The lot of the labourers is to trust in God for He is the Lord of the harvest.
Secular culture proposes a system of reward which is this worldly. It only knows this world and thus it is a material form of reward. But life eternal is another reward which we should work for. Christ Himself did say, “Work for treasures that do not fade”.
However, to propose a system of reward that is other worldly is still to be trapped in a way which is basically “materialistic” even though it is located in a spiritual realm. Reward must come from a kind of satisfaction provided by God Himself and there is no measure to it. In a recent retreat we were all posed this question. “Am I driven or am I drawn?” Even spiritual reward can carry with it a certain drive. One is driven to work and driven to succeed etc. But drawn is another matter altogether. Can I be drawn by God for Himself. I am drawn to follow Him to the ends of the earth for no matter where He is, there is home.
In a way, this “home” is alluded in the experience of the 72 as they enter houses. Give peace, eat and drink whatever is set before them. There is a certain placidness in this posture which shows that one is at “home” for where Christ is preached, there is home. Bringing the Gospel to the world is definitely challenging and it can be lonely but it makes sense of what St Paul says in the 2nd Reading. The marks of Christ’s Cross on one’s body is not a curse but it is the greatest witness to the truth of the Gospel, the good news that a world is longing for.
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