3rd Sunday of Advent Year B 2020 (Gaudete Sunday)

Within a liturgical year, we have only two Sundays of rose-coloured vestment, altar trimmings and decorations—Laetare for Lent and Gaudete for Advent. As markers or milestones, the change in liturgical colour signals that we have passed the midway points of the seasons. Both Laetare and Gaudete are taken from the Introit or the Entrance Antiphons of the 4^th Sunday of Lent and the 3^rd Sunday of Advent[1].

In English, however, both are translated as “Rejoice” which makes one wonder if they are any differences in these two Latin words. Indeed, rose is a departure from purple which is the operative colour for both the seasons of Lent and Advent. According to a theologian, the difference between the two words is to be found in the way joy is expressed. Laetare reflects a joy that is outwardly manifested and shown whereas Gaudete suggests an interior rejoicing.

The thing about Lent is that it is easier to understand a need for Laetare Sunday. In the midst of our penance, the Church gives us a glimpse of the Easter joy that is coming. It is like an appetiser—a foretaste of the joy of Easter to come. In a sense, our Catholic sensibility is accommodative of human frailty. It recognises the need for encouragement and so just halfway through the season the Church commends us to continue the journey unto Easter.

For Advent, a “break” from the penitential spirit does not make sense at all because what we are thick in a season of giving that coincides with excesses in wastage and overeating. Penitential or not, we seem to spend most of our Advent fussing about Christmas preparation and in some cases, people are already celebrating as if Christmas were already here. Is it not true that every year, we seem to struggle with the dilemma of delaying the urge to put up our Christmas decorations, fearing that by the time we set them up, the focus would have turned to Chinese New Year?

In the midst of this dilemma the readings bid us to rejoice because the Lord is near. Thus, from St Paul we get an exhortation to the Philippians, the entrance antiphon which invites us to “Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico gaudete” translated as “Rejoice in the LORD always; again, I say rejoice”. It means the focus is the present, as in the here and now, and not so much the past or the 2^nd Coming of Christ.

If rejoicing is what we are supposed to do, what does it mean to have joy and in particular, how does one describe it as an interior movement? We turn once again to the figure of John the Baptist. Just imagine the scene of two women meeting each other. One had just assented to the Incarnation of the Saviour and the other in her old age was now heavily pregnant. At the moment of encounter, this child in the womb is highly animated and figuratively jumping with delight at the nearness of the newly conceived Redeemer. The preface of the Mission of the Precursor reflects this elation, “even in the womb he leapt for joy at the coming of human salvation. He alone of all the prophets pointed out the Lamb of redemption”.

The relationship between John and Jesus is best described as one between a Groom and his best man. It is a kinship untainted by competition. Remember when John was imprisoned, he sent emissaries to Jesus to enquire if He was the one to whom he had been witnessing to. John could have been famous in his own right. Whereas the public reputation of Jesus was one who knew how to have enjoy life. It mattered not to John that his days were numbered, only that he should know if he had been pointing at the right Man. That was all he cared for.

If their relationship were marked by competitiveness, then joy would be impossible as it would be predicated upon winning. John was not into proving himself and so he shows us what it means to be joyful. Knowing firmly that he is not the Groom is the first step. He is merely the best man who only aim in life is to make the Groom shine. As such his joy is derived. As long as the Groom is near, the best man is ecstatic. Like the moon, John is content to shine bright not with its own light but from the brilliance of the sun. Knowing who we are and who God is, is the key to joy.

If peace is not the absence of war, then Gaudete’s joy does not mean that everything has to be going well for us. We have this mistaken notion that joy is an expression that everything is hunky dory. At this moment of uncertainty, we are suffering this never-ending and cursed pandemic. It is terrible as we hear everywhere this or that person has been infected with Covid. It feels like joy should not permitted in such a situation but as C.S. Lewis reminds us, “Joy is the serious business of heaven”.

John the Baptist rejoiced to hear the Bridegroom’s voice. So, what truly counts for us is that Jesus the Bridegroom, whom Advent is a preparation to welcome, has always been with us. Gaudete Sunday interior joy is a reminder of this reality. With this kind of knowledge that God is in our midst, one cannot suppress the joy that must emanate or exude from within us. This joy does not hide a keen awareness that this earthly life cannot fully capture or contain the ultimate happiness we so deeply desire. Despite that, we are not oppressed or weighed down by sadness because we recognise that our final reality can never be total annihilation. Why? Because Christ our Lord is always with us. As Jesus Christ is Emmanuel, God-with-us, John found his joy complete in pointing to Him. We too can find ours. In order that Christ’s joy may radiate through us, we beseech Him to rule our hearts as we strive to make Him the centre of our life and mission. The strength of Gaudete’s joy will overflow from a life which allows Christ to be Christ.

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[1]Gaudete goes back a long time. Advent was Lent’s counterpart in that it has 40 days beginning from 12^th Nov, the Memorial of St Martin de Tours. Advent then, was also known as St Martin’s Lent. As a counterpart to Laetare Sunday, Gaudete marks the mid-point in Lent.

2nd Sunday of Advent Year B 2020

The word “metanoia” is a good place to start this Sunday’s reflexion. What is it? It is translated in English as a transformation or a conversion. From a spiritual sense, “repentance” is the equivalent of “metanoia”[1]. Etymologically, metanoia is composed of two words—meta and nous—meaning to have an after-thought. If the word “repentance” is derived from penitence, it means that rethinking or after-thought (metanoia) and regret (repentance) are related.

Last Sunday, we focused on patient waiting. Today when the Baptist spoke of preparing for the Lord, he is leading us through an exercise of rethinking what it means to be penitent. And even as we set out to prepare ourselves for the coming of the Lord, we see in the person of John, a correlation between proposal (his words) and behaviour (his actions). Without pointing to himself, he was actually showing us how his preaching and his life were the same. John’s “posture” was poised and prepared to receive the Lord.

To prepare, let us delve into John’s counsel to repent. What is repentance? As stated earlier, it is related to re-thinking rather than to regret or remorse for “sinning”. Sin does not have to be a component in repentance as we observe this in God Himself. In sacred scriptures, God, who does not sin, repented. If God can repent, we can safely assume that penitence is first and foremost indicative of a change of heart.

So, how does preparation and re-thinking apply to our current situation?

We have been refrained or constrained by dissociative protocols, i.e., social distancing. Whilst it is stressful, nevertheless, it allows us to relook at a practice which is called the penitential service. We could not hold it before Easter this year when the focus of the MCO was “to flatten the curve”. Now that the cases are rising unabated, once again, we are prevented from conducting a penitential service before Christmas. In the past, some people have confessed their absence from penitential service as a sin. Non-attendance of such a service is not a sin which means theoretically, there was “nothing” to confess. In terms of Canon Law, a penitential service does provide the possibility of fulfilling the bare minimum which according to CIC#989 “each member of the faithful is obliged to confess faithfully his or her grave sins at least once a year”.

But, looking at this Canon from the perspective of “loving the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul”, we realise that this meagre undertaking scarcely covers what it means to love God superlatively. Only when Confession is not viewed as an obligation, that it will be easier to appreciate it as a reception of God’s love. Otherwise, it will become a dreaded chore to endure or worse, a punishment to undergo.

Both the Sacraments of Confession and Holy Communion are closely related in the sense that as soon as one is conscious of a serious sin, one ought to avail oneself of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. In fact, the Church strongly recommends “regular confession even of our venial sins because it helps us form our conscience, fight against evil tendencies and allow us to be healed by Christ as we progress in the life of the Spirit.” (CCC#1458). Plus, anyone conscious of a grave sin must receive the sacrament of Reconciliation before going for Holy Communion. (CCC#1385).

This is where a serious rethinking is called for. Why?

Regrettably, the penitential service because it is organised according to the principle of convenience, breaks the connexion between the awareness of serious sin and the need for Confession before the reception of Holy Communion. On the one hand, it diminishes the seriousness of sin because it gives the impression that sin is not so sinful after all. On the other hand, what is there to prepare for if we lose the awareness of our sins?

Therefore, an opportunity has arisen from this great slowdown. It is like a pause for a reassessment; a space which is filled with the promise of a profound interior renewal. In general, we have stopped thinking of sin when we speak of our relationship with God. Instead, what we have is a sore disappointment that God has failed. If we feel short-changed, then it could be that we have a mistaken idea or notion of what a good God is. “This pandemic is lasting too long”. “Why is God silent?”. In this silence, the space for review has been colonised by images of a dismal and despairing future. Nowhere have we asked ourselves if we also need to change our ways. Furthermore, the categories of sins, grave or venial, run the danger ignoring that venial sins are indicative of where our hearts are at. If uncorrected, they can lead to bad habits and subsequent mortal sins. According to a quote attributed to St. Teresa of Avila, “Always fear when some fault you commit does not grieve you. For in regard to sin, even venial, you know that the soul must feel great sorrow….  For the love of God, take care never to grow careless about venial sin, however small….  There is nothing small if it goes against so great a Sovereign”.

In a way, I have come full circle. I mentioned right at the beginning that repentance is really an evaluative exercise, a rethinking rather than a focus on sin. Yet, I have elaborated at length the matter of sin because the examination of conscience that the Baptist called for is fundamental to the preparation for the coming of Our Saviour. But what is the point of waiting for the Saviour when we seem to have no sins or are not aware of them? For even Mary needed to be saved by her Son. He deigned to save her from sin through the mystery of the Immaculate Conception.

When sin is no longer a part of the equation of grace, then Holy Communion will have become “therapeutic” in the sense that it makes us feel good rather than it being a salvific act of Christ. He came to save sinners. He did not come to make us feel good[2] and this is going to sound insensitive. We do not attend Mass to feel good. We come to worship God and if we feel good about it, that is definitely a bonus. We are here because the worship of God is our salvation which is infinitely better than feeling good.

So, if we need a Saviour, then He must save us. Otherwise, how is He a Saviour if we were not sinners. In the desert, John urged those in search of redemption to have a change of heart. Concretely, it meant they had to repent and repair sinful behaviour. Without changing, we will never be able to appreciate the Gift that God is sending us. Preparation comes from a want—a need which recognises, is aware of and is longing for the Saviour. We are preparing for Him to come, not for Jingle Bells nor for Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. As such, repentance is a rethinking or revaluation of our relationship with God and the role sin plays in its disruption. That is why the prayers during Mass at Advent continually direct our attention to sins as in asking God to free us from them.

Finally, in an age of “sound-bites”, John leads the way. In preaching repentance, he became the message of a heart totally attuned to Jesus Christ—prioritising what or in this case, Who the sole mission of his life is. In preparing for Christmas or Christ to come, we too can follow his example by ensuring that our words live in our actions and that our actions speak louder than our words. That way, we will be able to echo John humbly that He may increase and so that we may decrease.

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[1] Interestingly, the word “paranoia” suggests madness because one is thinking beyond the mind or colloquially, we say, “out of your mind”.

[2] The intent of a sacrament is salvation, not therapy. If the effect is therapeutic, it is definitely a bonus. Just like a visit to Lourdes to seek for a healing which is not necessarily the same as a cure.

1st Sunday of Advent Year B 2020

We seemed to have left behind the Last Judgement as we enter Year B. Here the liturgical landscape is shaped by the concise Gospel of Mark. Whatever form the terrain may be in months to come, we begin our Advent journey by reflecting on the virtue of patience. Though the theme of watchfulness is replayed this Sunday, however, the accent is on waiting patiently.

Sadly, we have quite successfully purged patience from our religious DNA. Our sense of waiting has been dulled that it is identified with boring, frustration and irritation. The proof is in the pudding as they say. If the Christmas tree has anything to do with the season of Christmas, traditionally it should be put up on Christmas Eve.[1] Alas, for some, the tree is already up even before one can say, “Bob’s your uncle”. More pressing in our impatience is the anxiety regarding when we can do away with masks, sanitisation, and social distancing. Quite literally, we are simply choked by or suffocated from waiting. Just as an aside, a possible reason for our present spike in Covid cases could be that people are just too impatient to allow the disease to come under control.

We are not alone in this for Isaiah himself showed this impatience too when he yearned for God to tear heavens open and to come down. But the Prophet also humbly recognised that God the Father is the potter still at work in shaping the clay. Spoilt or entitled as we are by instant gratification, God’s time is not and can never be under our command.

When time is beyond our control, what we have is our watchfulness as we wait patiently. This is where we have not really left the Last Judgement since we are straddled between the 1^st and the 2^nd Coming of Christ. We acknowledge the 1^st Coming historically in the Incarnation as we await the Lord of Judgement in the 2^nd Coming. The present is wedged between the past and the future.

It is this present which St Paul speaks of in the 2^nd Reading. While we wait for the Lord to be revealed, we asked the Spirit to keep us steady and without blame until that day arrives. We ask His grace so that we can carry out His mission while in this world. Just be ready to suffer as we wait for God’s Kingdom to slowly take shape. Be prepared to face loneliness because God will often seem to be absent. According to a quote widely attributed to St Augustine: “if God seems slow in responding, it is because He is preparing a better gift. He will not deny us. God withholds what you are not ready for. He wants you to have a lively desire for His greatest gifts. All of which is to say, prays always and do not lose heart”.

Do not lose heart if the progress is slow. The Spanish word for wait is “esperar” whereas hope is “esperanza”. To wait is always an expectant or hopeful wait because in the end, God can be trusted. Waiting may be hard but it helps us better appreciate what we will receive. What we do is to cultivate a watchfulness that recognises Him in the present. In the Gospel, the door keeper has this added duty to stay awake for the unexpected return of the Master. It is fascinating that this wakefulness involves some deprivation on our part. When one stays awake, one does not sleep. That is self-denial. Advent’s purple is a stark reminder of the penitential character of this season which if you translate it, it is accompanied by some asceticism on our part.

Watchfulness and longing are two sides of a coin. When we are watchful, we long for that which we are watching out for. That means there must be some hunger within, an aching emptiness that we feel. Without that hunger, what is there to long for? Without this emptiness what more do we need? This kind of “self-contentedness” is closely related to the experience of crying at a funeral. People who have no love or who are self-contained cannot cry.

Being watchful and waiting as we hunger for God to come, we stay awake so that death does not find us asleep from too much enjoyment. Even in this downturn of a pandemic, the shopping centres are already chiming their jingle bells hoping that the cash register will “ker-ching” as well. Decorations are a plenty, but they can be distracting as they hurry us to break out into a full Christmas celebration to the point that we forget the waiting and the longing. In fact, with our festival-laden calendar, the mall cannot wait to get rid of one set of religious ornaments so that they can put up the new decorations for the next.

For Advent, it may be a good idea to be out of synch with this movement so that we can pay attention to our present. Our temptation is to ignore the present because we are busy preparing for or worrying about the future. The future is essential, but we can miss the present to the point that we have stopped living in the present. Again, in the Gospel, when the master left his servants, he did not leave them to sit idly whilst waiting. Instead, he left his servants in charge, each with his own task. Our challenge as we wait is to engage ourselves profitably in the present.

As LL Cool J in Deep Blue Sea tried to explain the theory of relativity, and I paraphrase “that putting one hands on a hot pan for a second feels like an hour whereas spending an hour with a beautiful woman feels like a second”. Here is where the relativity comes in. There is something paralysing when we wait in fear and anxiety. Like the naughty child waiting for his father to come home so that he can mete out the punishment. But when we wait in hopeful expectation, it is liberating and energising. This approach is reflected in the Collect we heard before the Liturgy of the Word. Even though time may not be under our control, still the Collect says we should “resolve to run forth to meet your Christ with righteous deeds at His coming”. The response is ours alone to make.

It sounds "horizon-tal" in the sense that it is like a projection into eternity, but it actually speaks of a Christ who also comes to us here and now and not just in the future. Apart from caring for the poor, the orphans, and the widows, we have a duty to repent and be converted for our longing for God can be desensitised by the lack of recognition for our sins and waywardness. To resolutely run requires that we let go of our sins and our baggage. Longing for the coming of Christ is also a time of renewal. Thus, we face the reality of our who we are and beg that God, the potter, will slowly mould us into the jars that He wants of us.

Finally, there is a way to understand this pandemic in the context of Advent’s waiting. The breakneck speed of our lives has been throttled down and at the same time, the wait for a cure interminable. Given that we can be so blind and clueless, instead of searching for distractions, waiting is also a time of purification for our sins, a period of setting right our priorities especially with regard to heaven. Time is God’s gift to cultivate the virtue of patience. As we wait for Him to deliver us, there are many opportunities to exercise patience as we stand in solidarity with those who need our care and compassion. Christ is already with us in all who are suffering from and afflicted by the pandemic. Let us welcome Him now and forever.

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[1] The seasons of Advent and Christmas are not synonymous. Apparently, the tradition of putting up a Christmas tree at St Peter’s Square started during the pontificate of John Paul II in 1982. It seemed that the Vatican had sort of resisted this tradition on account that it was a Protestant custom.