Ordinary Time is drawing to a close but unlike Year A’s focus on the end time, the spotlight of Year B shines on faith in the midst of tribulation. From trusting in God’s generosity, we continue with the theme of faith in the Lord.
From the perspective of the Readings, discipleship has a cost which can only be paid by faith in the Lord. Without faith in Him, nobody can ever bear the price of discipleship.
Following Christ through trials and tribulations only makes sense if there is an end to our time on earth. The “Eschaton” invites us to think about the afterlife. However, it is a rather uncomfortable issue for some because nobody wants to be reminded of death. Two years ago, a priest from a parish not too distant from here was found dead in the bathroom of the Diocesan Retreat House. His death was most unexpected. It was unnerving. Unwittingly, we tend to run like clockwork. We wake up in the morning to slog or to slave during day and back to sleep at night. We eat from one meal to another. Sometimes even before we have finished eating we are already planning for the next meal. There is a rhythm or cadence to life which we take for granted. All we need is a spanner in the works. We assume that life will run smoothly but a death just throws us off kilter. It was in the aftermath of a death close to the presbyterium that we began to have workshops about our health etc.
But it does not take long for us to revert to our old ways. Until the next untimely death. Whether we like it or not, we need to think about the afterlife. We can go on accumulating but when we are at death’s door, nothing of what we possess materially can pass through that portal. What counts are the good deeds which we have done, the merits we have gathered, not as a guarantee of our entrance into eternal life but as gifts which, by God’s grace, we present to Him. In other words, all the merits we have are His gifts in the first place.
To reach that place, we need to calculate the cost for the journey. Much like going on an extended trip. The destination determines the amount of petrol to pump and also the toll to pay in order to get there. Last Sunday, the two widows gave their all. What are we prepared to sacrifice so that we may enter the gates of eternal life?
In the matter of paying the price of discipleship, we may have “romanticised” it by glamorising it with “blood”. While it is true that martyrdom is bloody yet the best description for it is actually bloodless. What is required is patience that comes from daily living out the call of Christ as in the Shema and the love of neighbour. It is not glamorous at all. It is daily and it is grinding. That is the cost of discipleship.
To give an example. Before marriage, the man and woman have great dreams of their shared life together. Just after their marriage, the couple remains barren despite all attempts to remedy their childlessness. Top that with the debilitating stroke of a spouse that ends with caring for the partner’s daily needs and also balancing the responsibility of being the sole bread winner for the family. This is a bloodless discipleship arising from the vow to remain together “for better or for worse”. It is not glossy or glitzy at all. In fact, such a life weighs upon and wears down a person. It is through difficulties that one gathers merits with the grace of God.
So, when Christ spoke of the end-time, it might seem to us that it is set in the future which we have to watch out for. The truth is the end-time can be closer in the sense that we might just drop death, like the priest in the bathroom mentioned earlier. Or like anyone engaging life like clockwork only to be stopped by an untimely death.
The watchfulness that the Lord asks of us is not as much directed to that specific time in the future as it is focused on our behaviour, our duties, our discipline because we can never tell when the time is for us to make that journey to eternity. Thus, we are called to be mindful that whatever good we can do, we should and we must never waste the many opportunities granted to us to make up and to repent while we can.
This sounds rather forbidding and frightening but if we look at the warnings of Jesus we realise that He is not trying to scare us. The life we have on earth is temporal. Between temporal and eternal, there is no comparison, no measure. If anything, the trials that we undergo is but a blip in the spectrum of eternity. We ought to live for that eternity. It might be better to remember that the end-time is not out there but rather it is in our hearts. Christ’s sacrifice has defeated Satan’s power forever but the battle continues in our hearts. It is there that His victory is to be asserted.
In fact, Christ makes it a point to emphasise that all will pass away. As the author of the Ecclesiastes reminds us, “All is vanity” and so we take heed. What Christ also promises is that He will come again and with Him, our salvation is assured. We should attempt to live as if today is our last day so that when we are called, we have already said our goodbyes. Our hearts are already prepared and we have been longing for the coming of the Lord.
Wednesday, 20 November 2024
Sunday, 10 November 2024
32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2024
The 2nd Reading seals our guarantee. We have been focussing on Christ as High Priest. But the author also tells us that Christ generously offered Himself as a sacrifice for us. He dared to walk into oblivion knowing that He will never lose because of His Father. Laying down His life as a ransom for us is the ultimate sign of trust in Providence. God is dependable because He spared no expense to provide for our salvation.
On our part, scarcity is a fear of the future. There will never be enough when we are fearful or are uncertain about what the future holds. Fearing future scarcity will limit our generosity. Exactly the situation of the Widow in the 1st Reading. She barely had enough to feed herself and her son. We are afraid to part with what we have and instead we tend to operate from a space of surplus. We give only because we have more than what we need and the best part is that we may even feel generous about it. But consider the sacrifice that saved us was paid with no less than the life of God’s only Son. God held nothing back, giving not from His surplus but of His most precious Son.
It is fascinating that we have so much and yet somehow we feel that there is not enough. In fact, some countries today are experiencing population decline. What brought about this phenomenon?
When the Industrial Revolution took off, machination increased production. Whether life became easier for everyone is debatable. What was evident is that medical science advanced in tandem. What followed was life-expectancy increased and correspondingly child mortality decreased. The result was a spurt in the population growth. The world seemed to have more people but somehow there never seemed to be enough for everyone.
When population growth spiked, the alarm was sounded. Humanity was growing at a pace where it was felt that natural resources would not cope. What we had failed to realised was that the industrial progress had made it possible for food production to increase. Instead the scare was that we will never have enough. This fear resulted in some countries’ attempts to limit population expansion through birth control and family planning that even included forced sterilisation. That programme has been so successful and now these same countries are facing a population decline.
The usual mantra is that the world is incapable of supporting a burgeoning population and have you noticed that our food wastage has also increase exponentially. It just does not add up.
Why?
The model that we have been operating under is one of surplus and not of need. We dare to share only because we have surplus. We are hesitant that if we were to part with what we need, then when the moment arises for what is needed, we do not have enough and we suffer. Perhaps it explains the phenomenon of hoarding. Actually, accumulation represents a kind of fear that when the moment comes, whatever we have, cannot supply for the present need. But hoarding is not limited merely to material goods. Some millionaires and billionaires can be considered hoarders too because they fear inadequacy.
Hoarding is just a way of saying that God does not know how to take care of us. Perhaps it would be a wonderful occasion for priests to preach a “gospel of prosperity” meaning that parishioners should be generous because God can never be outdone in generosity. After all we are in the midst of a renovation, right? But do you know that a “gospel of prosperity” actually misses the point? The generosity suggested still operates from a model of “surplus”. According to this “gospel of prosperity”, the person who gives a lot would still be giving out of surplus and not out of need. Do we give to God what we have and do not need any more OR do we give to Him what we have even though we need it? Again, like the Widow and her son of the 1st Reading who were supposed to eat what they had and then die but she obeyed Elijah by surrendering what she needed.
In other words, dare we hand our hearts and our wills, our whole selves to the Lord? That means everything we hold dear, our family, our loves, our joys or our careers. Do we dare to place all in God’s hands to do with them according to His will. Like Jesus walking into death’s embrace for He knows that the Father is ever there for Him. That is the lesson for today. God does not need anything we can give Him. After all, what have we that we have not received in the first place? In fact, everything belongs to Him. Giving back to Him is nothing more than surrendering to the rightful owner. But like Jesus who walked into His death, God wants us to depend on Him.
To be generous even with what we need is a kind of grace. It is a fortitude in facing the future not with fear but with confidence. Fear is certain that scarcity is around the corner whereas faith is a strength that believes abundance awaits because the God whom we trust will never let us down.
Tuesday, 5 November 2024
31st Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2024
Today the teaching of Christ highlights the great Shema of Dt. 6:4 and the love of neighbour of Lev. 19:18. How to navigate the love of God and neighbour?
We have a dilemma. The world appears to be on the brink of a war. Looking back at 1914, who would have thought the murder of an Archduke in Sarajevo could have reshaped the world. Now Israel and Iran are digging deep into their trenches, the former in self-defence and the latter intent on annihilation. On top of the spectre of a global conflict we are reminded that the planet is ravaged by climate change while the affluent West is inundated by economic migrations.
In other words, our attention is held sway by “hunger”. Whatever crises we face, be it an armed conflict, economic migration or even climate change, the stomach is involved. There will be hunger whenever a disaster strikes. Where is God in all these?
Today Jesus taught in the Temple emphasising the Great Commandment. We are in a bind. What does it mean to love a God who is absent at best or helpless at worst? Religion is mostly irrelevant and people shy away from organised religion. Increasingly people defined themselves as spiritual but not religious. In a meaningful “spiritual” realm, away from the control of organised religions, God, if there is one, should be a benevolent force. Thus, our definition of a compassionate God necessarily excludes His sovereignty. It means that if He exists, then it is His responsibility to affirm us and to ensure that we feel good about ourselves. In such a “spiritual” realm, God is the ultimate “therapist”.
The truth is, God is sovereign. If we can “define” ourselves, that would necessarily mean that God should be “defined” too. Given such a scenario, our self-definition might not fit in with God’s self-revelation. There is a possibility that we may not be included in His life, not that He needs us. This should give us pause to re-think our idea of who God is. He exists but not to prop us up. He is not our “therapist”.
Moreover, the dilemma we have with God is supplied by an urgency of a global magnitude. We experience how bad the world is and God seems to be silent or helpless even. Thus we set the question up. “How can you love a God whom you cannot see if you do not love the brother whom you can see?”. This question draws our attention to the glaring problems that we have before us. Hunger creates conflicts and also human migration. We want to solve this human ecological crisis.
Perhaps a better way to frame the need for action is to reorient ourselves with regard to the problems that we face. Jesus who laid down His life for His friends did not do it as a proof of His love for the Father. Rather it was His love for the Father that enabled Him to freely to lay down His life.
This should be how we approach the question of the love of our neighbour. The notion that we can create a world free from hunger and totally just or fair is appealing and seductive. However, the pantheon of canonised saint did not achieve sanctity from this great idea. Each became a saint because he or she had a personal love for Jesus. Their love for Christ fired their unreserved charity towards their brothers and sisters.
The ability to love a God whom one cannot see has a powerful effect. There are great people who are able to love even if they have no relationship with God. They are philanthropists and the world is packed with them. From this, it is easy to see how the love of neighbour has become the proof for the love of God.
The Shema is a call to each Christian to fall in love with God, not an idea of God nor even a wonderful idea of humanity. Perhaps what is radically wrong in the world today is that we have forgotten that love should flow from God to humanity. It remains our dilemma because it is never possible to convert the world to an ideology of good. Any attempt to make everybody loving in order to achieve a greater good will only result in human misery. Thus, the saying is true that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
It is rightly so that when we love God, there should be a kind of visibility to that love. The proof of our love flows into the love of the neighbour. That is the correct direction. If there is no love for our neighbour, maybe the question to ask is if one has truly loved God or rather what sort of relationship do we have with the God we love.
We desire a better world as we should and the only way to change is when enough humanity has fallen in love with God. Christianity as an effective force for good depends on this love of God. He is the reason that missionaries dared to fan out into the world to spread the Gospel and to share the love of Christ.
An example might illustrate how the love for God flows into the love for neighbours. Which is easier to order? Char Koay Teow. Or Char Koay Teow but no taugeh, without lap cheong, “see hum” must be cooked and fried with duck’s egg. If you were to “tapau” food, it is much easier to just say to the uncle, “Tapau, Char Koay Teow, two packets”. But it is definitely more mouthful to give that special instruction CKT. If the person were someone you truly love, it would not be a problem. You go and you even ensure that the CKT uncle complied with your instructions. But if it were someone whom you have no love for, you would find listing the exceptions an inconvenience and might even resent the person’s fussiness.
Likewise, in the matter of organised religion, complete with rules and regulations, when there is no love, everything will come across as impositions. But when we are in love, nothing is ever too much. The love of God and of neighbour are not equal loves. In order to fully love our neighbours, the challenge is to recover our love for the person of Jesus Christ.
To love your neighbour as yourself may be feel like the best recipe for social change especially if we think love can be programmed into actions like a machine can be programmed to run. We continually want to reshape the world by the dint of our will-power and thus through our machinations. We do possess technology that can increase food production. We can feed the world all over but why are we not doing it? The truth remains that without loving Jesus, we will be doomed to failure. Therefore, if we want to transform the world, then we must be inflamed by the love of Christ. There is no other way to love Him except to spend time with Him, through personal prayer, through scripture and silence, through the Eucharist and through Adoration.
We have a dilemma. The world appears to be on the brink of a war. Looking back at 1914, who would have thought the murder of an Archduke in Sarajevo could have reshaped the world. Now Israel and Iran are digging deep into their trenches, the former in self-defence and the latter intent on annihilation. On top of the spectre of a global conflict we are reminded that the planet is ravaged by climate change while the affluent West is inundated by economic migrations.
In other words, our attention is held sway by “hunger”. Whatever crises we face, be it an armed conflict, economic migration or even climate change, the stomach is involved. There will be hunger whenever a disaster strikes. Where is God in all these?
Today Jesus taught in the Temple emphasising the Great Commandment. We are in a bind. What does it mean to love a God who is absent at best or helpless at worst? Religion is mostly irrelevant and people shy away from organised religion. Increasingly people defined themselves as spiritual but not religious. In a meaningful “spiritual” realm, away from the control of organised religions, God, if there is one, should be a benevolent force. Thus, our definition of a compassionate God necessarily excludes His sovereignty. It means that if He exists, then it is His responsibility to affirm us and to ensure that we feel good about ourselves. In such a “spiritual” realm, God is the ultimate “therapist”.
The truth is, God is sovereign. If we can “define” ourselves, that would necessarily mean that God should be “defined” too. Given such a scenario, our self-definition might not fit in with God’s self-revelation. There is a possibility that we may not be included in His life, not that He needs us. This should give us pause to re-think our idea of who God is. He exists but not to prop us up. He is not our “therapist”.
Moreover, the dilemma we have with God is supplied by an urgency of a global magnitude. We experience how bad the world is and God seems to be silent or helpless even. Thus we set the question up. “How can you love a God whom you cannot see if you do not love the brother whom you can see?”. This question draws our attention to the glaring problems that we have before us. Hunger creates conflicts and also human migration. We want to solve this human ecological crisis.
Perhaps a better way to frame the need for action is to reorient ourselves with regard to the problems that we face. Jesus who laid down His life for His friends did not do it as a proof of His love for the Father. Rather it was His love for the Father that enabled Him to freely to lay down His life.
This should be how we approach the question of the love of our neighbour. The notion that we can create a world free from hunger and totally just or fair is appealing and seductive. However, the pantheon of canonised saint did not achieve sanctity from this great idea. Each became a saint because he or she had a personal love for Jesus. Their love for Christ fired their unreserved charity towards their brothers and sisters.
The ability to love a God whom one cannot see has a powerful effect. There are great people who are able to love even if they have no relationship with God. They are philanthropists and the world is packed with them. From this, it is easy to see how the love of neighbour has become the proof for the love of God.
The Shema is a call to each Christian to fall in love with God, not an idea of God nor even a wonderful idea of humanity. Perhaps what is radically wrong in the world today is that we have forgotten that love should flow from God to humanity. It remains our dilemma because it is never possible to convert the world to an ideology of good. Any attempt to make everybody loving in order to achieve a greater good will only result in human misery. Thus, the saying is true that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
It is rightly so that when we love God, there should be a kind of visibility to that love. The proof of our love flows into the love of the neighbour. That is the correct direction. If there is no love for our neighbour, maybe the question to ask is if one has truly loved God or rather what sort of relationship do we have with the God we love.
We desire a better world as we should and the only way to change is when enough humanity has fallen in love with God. Christianity as an effective force for good depends on this love of God. He is the reason that missionaries dared to fan out into the world to spread the Gospel and to share the love of Christ.
An example might illustrate how the love for God flows into the love for neighbours. Which is easier to order? Char Koay Teow. Or Char Koay Teow but no taugeh, without lap cheong, “see hum” must be cooked and fried with duck’s egg. If you were to “tapau” food, it is much easier to just say to the uncle, “Tapau, Char Koay Teow, two packets”. But it is definitely more mouthful to give that special instruction CKT. If the person were someone you truly love, it would not be a problem. You go and you even ensure that the CKT uncle complied with your instructions. But if it were someone whom you have no love for, you would find listing the exceptions an inconvenience and might even resent the person’s fussiness.
Likewise, in the matter of organised religion, complete with rules and regulations, when there is no love, everything will come across as impositions. But when we are in love, nothing is ever too much. The love of God and of neighbour are not equal loves. In order to fully love our neighbours, the challenge is to recover our love for the person of Jesus Christ.
To love your neighbour as yourself may be feel like the best recipe for social change especially if we think love can be programmed into actions like a machine can be programmed to run. We continually want to reshape the world by the dint of our will-power and thus through our machinations. We do possess technology that can increase food production. We can feed the world all over but why are we not doing it? The truth remains that without loving Jesus, we will be doomed to failure. Therefore, if we want to transform the world, then we must be inflamed by the love of Christ. There is no other way to love Him except to spend time with Him, through personal prayer, through scripture and silence, through the Eucharist and through Adoration.
Friday, 1 November 2024
All Saints’ Day 2024
Today we celebrate our saints who are mostly unnamed.
A particular Christian sect literally reads the Revelation and believes that only 144,000 people will be saved. Thankfully, the Apocalypse is more hopeful because it also describes “a huge number, impossible to count, of people from every nation, race, tribe and language; they were standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands”.
Two essential things to note.
Firstly, for every saint the Church has canonised, there are many more who are uncanonised. They do not live quiet lives of desperation but rather quiet lives of unsung heroism. They may not be acknowledged by man but they are definitely known to God. He alone knows their struggles and tribulations for “these are the people who have been through the great persecution, and they have washed their robes white again in the blood of the Lamb” and now they sing, “Victory to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”.
Secondly, we live in hope. The Saints enjoy the fullness of God’s love. Those on earth are hoping to share in that plenitude of love. We are struggling to get there. Thus, the Saints are beacons of hope because they know our struggles. They continue to pray for us and also to pray for the souls in purgatory. Both the souls in purgatory and those of us who are on earth are either waiting to enter or are still on a pilgrimage to the Beatific Vision. Like the Saints in heaven doing good on earth, so too our brothers and sisters in Purgatory who are praying for us. While they can and do pray for the living, what is lacking for them is that they are totally dependent on the Saints and those of us on earth to pray for them.
An interesting quote might help us appreciate how one can be a saint. “Some people are just born to fight. It is not that they are born brave. It is not that they are born strong. It is just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have grit and fire and steel in their blood. And it will be tested, this cosmic mettle of theirs. They will face trial after trial, be broken and damaged in countless ways. But this one was born to fight. Maybe it is not the life they would have chosen. Maybe they would love to lay down their arms. But they were born to fight. It is what they know. It is what they do best. It is all they can do”.
But here is the kicker. The difference between a person born to fight and a saint is grace. A person may have grit and guts but without grace it is just brute force. No effort of our own can ever propel us to sanctity. What we need is God’s grace. His grace is our strength and our hope. Julius Caesar writing a letter to the Roman Senate referred to his swift victory over his opponents, allegedly wrote, “Veni, vidi, vici” translated “I came, I saw, I conquered”. The Saints have conquered but they teach us what it means to be graced by God and with greater humility they will paraphrase Caesar, “I came, I struggled, I conquered” with the assistance of God.
In remembering the saints, we also celebrate the vocation of sanctity that every Christian is invited to. As we remember our many unknown Saints, we affirm our belief that we too have been called to holiness and we confess that by the grace of God, we too can be raised to the altar of sanctity.
A particular Christian sect literally reads the Revelation and believes that only 144,000 people will be saved. Thankfully, the Apocalypse is more hopeful because it also describes “a huge number, impossible to count, of people from every nation, race, tribe and language; they were standing in front of the throne and in front of the Lamb, dressed in white robes and holding palms in their hands”.
Two essential things to note.
Firstly, for every saint the Church has canonised, there are many more who are uncanonised. They do not live quiet lives of desperation but rather quiet lives of unsung heroism. They may not be acknowledged by man but they are definitely known to God. He alone knows their struggles and tribulations for “these are the people who have been through the great persecution, and they have washed their robes white again in the blood of the Lamb” and now they sing, “Victory to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!”.
Secondly, we live in hope. The Saints enjoy the fullness of God’s love. Those on earth are hoping to share in that plenitude of love. We are struggling to get there. Thus, the Saints are beacons of hope because they know our struggles. They continue to pray for us and also to pray for the souls in purgatory. Both the souls in purgatory and those of us who are on earth are either waiting to enter or are still on a pilgrimage to the Beatific Vision. Like the Saints in heaven doing good on earth, so too our brothers and sisters in Purgatory who are praying for us. While they can and do pray for the living, what is lacking for them is that they are totally dependent on the Saints and those of us on earth to pray for them.
An interesting quote might help us appreciate how one can be a saint. “Some people are just born to fight. It is not that they are born brave. It is not that they are born strong. It is just that the universe has decided that this one, this one will have grit and fire and steel in their blood. And it will be tested, this cosmic mettle of theirs. They will face trial after trial, be broken and damaged in countless ways. But this one was born to fight. Maybe it is not the life they would have chosen. Maybe they would love to lay down their arms. But they were born to fight. It is what they know. It is what they do best. It is all they can do”.
But here is the kicker. The difference between a person born to fight and a saint is grace. A person may have grit and guts but without grace it is just brute force. No effort of our own can ever propel us to sanctity. What we need is God’s grace. His grace is our strength and our hope. Julius Caesar writing a letter to the Roman Senate referred to his swift victory over his opponents, allegedly wrote, “Veni, vidi, vici” translated “I came, I saw, I conquered”. The Saints have conquered but they teach us what it means to be graced by God and with greater humility they will paraphrase Caesar, “I came, I struggled, I conquered” with the assistance of God.
In remembering the saints, we also celebrate the vocation of sanctity that every Christian is invited to. As we remember our many unknown Saints, we affirm our belief that we too have been called to holiness and we confess that by the grace of God, we too can be raised to the altar of sanctity.
Sunday, 27 October 2024
30th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2024
As Jesus was poised to enter Jerusalem, He encountered Bartimaeus, the blind beggar. What can we learn from this encounter?
Of the many persons helped by Jesus, we get to know the beggar’s name indicating that he could have been an important personality. In fact, outside the inner circle of Christ’s disciples, this man, even though visually impaired, was alert intuitively or spiritually to the presence of the Saviour.
In Bartimaeus’ appeal to Christ, we catch an echo of the Penitential Rite at Mass. “Jesus Son of David, have mercy on me”. “Eleison me, eleison me” translated becomes the familiar “Kyrie eleison”, that is, “Lord, have mercy (on me)”. This plaintive cry of Bartimaeus can help us take a look at who we truly are and what we need most.
Bartimaeus shows us that we need God more than we realise. The overarching theme provided by the first and second readings is our creaturely helplessness. In Jeremiah, the Israelites were exiled and vulnerable. It was God who led them to freedom. In restoring the Israelites, God revealed Himself to be the Father of a people. In Hebrews, Jesus the High Priest can empathise with our helplessness and weakness because He is a man like us except for the inclination to sin.
At every turn, man is helpless, especially in the area of sin and salvation. We may have bionic capabilities propped up by technological mastery but when it comes to saving ourselves we are beggars like Bartimaeus. The beauty of this blind man was not only his sensing of who Jesus is but despite the attempts to silence him, he still cried out to Jesus all the louder. Beneath the cry for healing was a firm faith supplied by the title “Son of David”. Faith in the Saviour saved him.
He is a symbol of a humanity that is disabled by sin and whose only recourse is to throw itself at the mercy of the Saviour. As sinners we are unable to save ourselves but must depend on God alone.
In the case of Bartimaeus, his faith is immense. After Jesus called him, he shook off his cloak and went towards the Lord. Such was his confidence in Jesus’ ability to heal. If the miracle did not materialise, one wonders how Bartimaeus could find his cloak. The cloak is like our security blanket and forsaking it signals the courage to leave behind one’s comfort. Sometimes we can be canonised in our sins because we know no better.
The nature of sin is not only its addictiveness. It could also be a form of security. We cling to sins because we dare not let them go. It is like a security blanket and therefore it is not merely a case of faith or a lack of it, as if we have no faith. The challenge for modern man is that our faith is often limited by our capacity to control. Since we are self-made, we pride ourselves on the ability to control our destiny which means we tend to shun helplessness. We even resent the state of helplessness because it is a sign of weakness. A self-help generation trusts God only in as much as it trusts ourselves. In other words, we turn to God only because we cannot do things for ourselves.
A good illustration is provided by our political experiences. Think about palace plotting, or party politicking, or clerical conspiracy. While we consider them weaved into our social fabric but manoeuvring is a symptom of our need to be in control. Thus, the election of the Pope is never an innocent affair because certain quarters will try to manipulate the outcome. Intrigues and politicking are indications of the lack of faith and our need to be in charge. We are fearful that God cannot be depended on and so set ourselves to supply what God is incapable of doing for us. We want to be in control.
While we may want to direct our destiny, still we can never save ourselves. The Israelites and Bartimaeus are lessons to learn. They mirror our need for God and His salvation.
Finally, Bartimaeus asked to see. Sight or vision is not merely a physical faculty but it also to have the eyes of faith, that is, to see what is proper. Our notion of vision is basically that of an ability or capacity to see. Fair enough? But is that the function of sight? Perhaps a question might just clarify this for us. We have fundamentally become a pornographic generation. It is so because smut is acceptable, accessible, affordable and anonymous. Consider these two options. Between being blind and being able to watch porn, which would you choose? The correct answer should be: I choose to be blind rather than to offend God with the faculty of seeing.
In the case of Bartimaeus, there appears to be no difference between seeing and not seeing. He was blind and yet he already recognised Jesus. So if we cry out like the blind beggar, then our desire, that is, what we most need, is to see Jesus our Lord so that we can be saved. As we inch closer to Jesus, we grow deeper in the awareness of His presence in the lives of others, most especially in the lives of those who are poor and outside the ambit of our vision, the vision of society.
Of the many persons helped by Jesus, we get to know the beggar’s name indicating that he could have been an important personality. In fact, outside the inner circle of Christ’s disciples, this man, even though visually impaired, was alert intuitively or spiritually to the presence of the Saviour.
In Bartimaeus’ appeal to Christ, we catch an echo of the Penitential Rite at Mass. “Jesus Son of David, have mercy on me”. “Eleison me, eleison me” translated becomes the familiar “Kyrie eleison”, that is, “Lord, have mercy (on me)”. This plaintive cry of Bartimaeus can help us take a look at who we truly are and what we need most.
Bartimaeus shows us that we need God more than we realise. The overarching theme provided by the first and second readings is our creaturely helplessness. In Jeremiah, the Israelites were exiled and vulnerable. It was God who led them to freedom. In restoring the Israelites, God revealed Himself to be the Father of a people. In Hebrews, Jesus the High Priest can empathise with our helplessness and weakness because He is a man like us except for the inclination to sin.
At every turn, man is helpless, especially in the area of sin and salvation. We may have bionic capabilities propped up by technological mastery but when it comes to saving ourselves we are beggars like Bartimaeus. The beauty of this blind man was not only his sensing of who Jesus is but despite the attempts to silence him, he still cried out to Jesus all the louder. Beneath the cry for healing was a firm faith supplied by the title “Son of David”. Faith in the Saviour saved him.
He is a symbol of a humanity that is disabled by sin and whose only recourse is to throw itself at the mercy of the Saviour. As sinners we are unable to save ourselves but must depend on God alone.
In the case of Bartimaeus, his faith is immense. After Jesus called him, he shook off his cloak and went towards the Lord. Such was his confidence in Jesus’ ability to heal. If the miracle did not materialise, one wonders how Bartimaeus could find his cloak. The cloak is like our security blanket and forsaking it signals the courage to leave behind one’s comfort. Sometimes we can be canonised in our sins because we know no better.
The nature of sin is not only its addictiveness. It could also be a form of security. We cling to sins because we dare not let them go. It is like a security blanket and therefore it is not merely a case of faith or a lack of it, as if we have no faith. The challenge for modern man is that our faith is often limited by our capacity to control. Since we are self-made, we pride ourselves on the ability to control our destiny which means we tend to shun helplessness. We even resent the state of helplessness because it is a sign of weakness. A self-help generation trusts God only in as much as it trusts ourselves. In other words, we turn to God only because we cannot do things for ourselves.
A good illustration is provided by our political experiences. Think about palace plotting, or party politicking, or clerical conspiracy. While we consider them weaved into our social fabric but manoeuvring is a symptom of our need to be in control. Thus, the election of the Pope is never an innocent affair because certain quarters will try to manipulate the outcome. Intrigues and politicking are indications of the lack of faith and our need to be in charge. We are fearful that God cannot be depended on and so set ourselves to supply what God is incapable of doing for us. We want to be in control.
While we may want to direct our destiny, still we can never save ourselves. The Israelites and Bartimaeus are lessons to learn. They mirror our need for God and His salvation.
Finally, Bartimaeus asked to see. Sight or vision is not merely a physical faculty but it also to have the eyes of faith, that is, to see what is proper. Our notion of vision is basically that of an ability or capacity to see. Fair enough? But is that the function of sight? Perhaps a question might just clarify this for us. We have fundamentally become a pornographic generation. It is so because smut is acceptable, accessible, affordable and anonymous. Consider these two options. Between being blind and being able to watch porn, which would you choose? The correct answer should be: I choose to be blind rather than to offend God with the faculty of seeing.
In the case of Bartimaeus, there appears to be no difference between seeing and not seeing. He was blind and yet he already recognised Jesus. So if we cry out like the blind beggar, then our desire, that is, what we most need, is to see Jesus our Lord so that we can be saved. As we inch closer to Jesus, we grow deeper in the awareness of His presence in the lives of others, most especially in the lives of those who are poor and outside the ambit of our vision, the vision of society.
Saturday, 26 October 2024
29th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2024.
The themes of the last few weeks seem to coalesce together this Sunday. There was the disciples’ discussion that centred on who the greatest would be. The previous Sunday Jesus lamented on how tough it is for those with possessions and riches to enter the Kingdom of heaven.
Today two brothers compete to sit on either side of Jesus. The context for all these exchanges and teachings that follow remains the impending Passion that Jesus will face. For Christians, the road to triumph must always be preceded by Calvary. In other words, there is no glory without suffering but the disciples seemed to suffer from selective hearing. While they zoomed in on the victory, Christ continued to point to the reality of His Passion.
The 1st Reading shines a spotlight on the Passion of the Suffering Servant. Like a Holy Week’s Good Friday follow-up, our iniquities are laid upon Him and we are saved by His Passion. In the midst of trials and tribulations, the Responsorial Psalm assures us that no one, most especially the servant who trusts in God, will be forsaken.
Interestingly for us is our take on or understanding of power and the glory that accompanies it. For Jesus, suffering comes with the territory of power. For us, we are enamoured by power’s control and capability, that is, the power to command and move things. Within this perspective, power is equated with dominion. For example, there are laws but how often have they been swept away because the one who has power decreed otherwise, giving the impression that the powerful are above the laws.
Poets are perhaps like the little boy who can see the Emperor or power for its nakedness. The two siblings who sought coveted positions believed that prominence will grant them dominion over the rest. Shakespeare could have set them right. “Uneasy is the head that wears a crown”. But Jesus goes a step further. Now, instead of supremacy, He equates superiority with service, meaning that it is a privilege to serve rather than to be served and the greatest distinction of one’s service comes from bearing suffering on account of another. A good illustration is whenever Americans encounter a member of the arm services, they have this tradition of saying “Thank you for your service.” Whether they support a war or not, the soldiers who have had their limbs blown off are taking one for the team.
If we think about it, all personal power must come to an end. In fact, power is ephemeral or fleeting, none more obvious than in the “after” or the lame-duck period that we are familiar with. The best case in point is President Biden. He is the most apt figure that “nature abhors a vacuum”. As soon as he exhibited public frailty, the power players behind him started plotting and manoeuvring to rid him. Now he is nothing more than a shadow of his past. Every king or anyone who has powers knows that at the end, there will be others who rule over him or her. Rightly so in the post-Resurrection scene by the Sea of Galilee, Jesus told Peter that in the end, people will lead him to where he would rather not go.
If power is fleeting, then power’s greatest expression should never be to dominate but to expend itself for the greatest good and that is to serve. Jesus told the disciples in John’s Gospel that the most profound love one has is to lay down one’s life. This magnificent expression of Christianity renders the words “love, power and service” interchangeable.
If we are powerful, how should we love or serve?
In general, our ruling elites are an embarrassment. A consolation is that our country is not special as if we have a monopoly of the most corrupt politicians in the world. In every corner of the cosmos, the scenario is repeated. Instead of serving, the ruling class has no difficulties with selfishness, concerned only with their own welfare and enriching themselves.
To serve is not alien to us. The truth is that the third leg of the human economy today stands on services provided. Some island economies geared towards tourism even depend entirely on the service industry. Airlines, banks and hotels are prime instances of this third sector of the economy. The challenge is to decouple service from fiducial consideration. At present, excellent service comes with a price. You get what you pay for.
But we are familiar with the excellent service that comes from our dedication to Christ. Catholic hospitals and schools were built upon the example of Christ’s hospitality. It was possible at one time to render free services because missionary brothers and sisters gave their entire lives to orders or institutions that provided gratuitous services. They drew their inspiration from their King who lived as a servant.
The decoupling between power and prominence in Jesus Christ is seen as strength and service, or better still, the strength to serve. He uses His power and authority always for others and never for His personal gain. A true leader serves others and never himself or herself knowing that the reward for him or her cannot be supplied by this world.
In a culture bent on self-promotion, the Gospel proposes a better option to the need for recognition. Who better to acknowledge us than God the Father? It is to Him we turn and from Him we receive the fullest affirmation. For Jesus, assured and secured in the Father’s embrace, the service of the vulnerable became the true expression of power. The reward promised for those who lay down their lives can only be claimed beyond this life. Lest we feel insecure and uncertain with this truth, we only have to look to Christ in Whom the instrument of shame and subjugation has become the source of strength and life. He who laid down His life for others became the Lord and Saviour of all humankind. In the Cross be my glory ever!
Today two brothers compete to sit on either side of Jesus. The context for all these exchanges and teachings that follow remains the impending Passion that Jesus will face. For Christians, the road to triumph must always be preceded by Calvary. In other words, there is no glory without suffering but the disciples seemed to suffer from selective hearing. While they zoomed in on the victory, Christ continued to point to the reality of His Passion.
The 1st Reading shines a spotlight on the Passion of the Suffering Servant. Like a Holy Week’s Good Friday follow-up, our iniquities are laid upon Him and we are saved by His Passion. In the midst of trials and tribulations, the Responsorial Psalm assures us that no one, most especially the servant who trusts in God, will be forsaken.
Interestingly for us is our take on or understanding of power and the glory that accompanies it. For Jesus, suffering comes with the territory of power. For us, we are enamoured by power’s control and capability, that is, the power to command and move things. Within this perspective, power is equated with dominion. For example, there are laws but how often have they been swept away because the one who has power decreed otherwise, giving the impression that the powerful are above the laws.
Poets are perhaps like the little boy who can see the Emperor or power for its nakedness. The two siblings who sought coveted positions believed that prominence will grant them dominion over the rest. Shakespeare could have set them right. “Uneasy is the head that wears a crown”. But Jesus goes a step further. Now, instead of supremacy, He equates superiority with service, meaning that it is a privilege to serve rather than to be served and the greatest distinction of one’s service comes from bearing suffering on account of another. A good illustration is whenever Americans encounter a member of the arm services, they have this tradition of saying “Thank you for your service.” Whether they support a war or not, the soldiers who have had their limbs blown off are taking one for the team.
If we think about it, all personal power must come to an end. In fact, power is ephemeral or fleeting, none more obvious than in the “after” or the lame-duck period that we are familiar with. The best case in point is President Biden. He is the most apt figure that “nature abhors a vacuum”. As soon as he exhibited public frailty, the power players behind him started plotting and manoeuvring to rid him. Now he is nothing more than a shadow of his past. Every king or anyone who has powers knows that at the end, there will be others who rule over him or her. Rightly so in the post-Resurrection scene by the Sea of Galilee, Jesus told Peter that in the end, people will lead him to where he would rather not go.
If power is fleeting, then power’s greatest expression should never be to dominate but to expend itself for the greatest good and that is to serve. Jesus told the disciples in John’s Gospel that the most profound love one has is to lay down one’s life. This magnificent expression of Christianity renders the words “love, power and service” interchangeable.
If we are powerful, how should we love or serve?
In general, our ruling elites are an embarrassment. A consolation is that our country is not special as if we have a monopoly of the most corrupt politicians in the world. In every corner of the cosmos, the scenario is repeated. Instead of serving, the ruling class has no difficulties with selfishness, concerned only with their own welfare and enriching themselves.
To serve is not alien to us. The truth is that the third leg of the human economy today stands on services provided. Some island economies geared towards tourism even depend entirely on the service industry. Airlines, banks and hotels are prime instances of this third sector of the economy. The challenge is to decouple service from fiducial consideration. At present, excellent service comes with a price. You get what you pay for.
But we are familiar with the excellent service that comes from our dedication to Christ. Catholic hospitals and schools were built upon the example of Christ’s hospitality. It was possible at one time to render free services because missionary brothers and sisters gave their entire lives to orders or institutions that provided gratuitous services. They drew their inspiration from their King who lived as a servant.
The decoupling between power and prominence in Jesus Christ is seen as strength and service, or better still, the strength to serve. He uses His power and authority always for others and never for His personal gain. A true leader serves others and never himself or herself knowing that the reward for him or her cannot be supplied by this world.
In a culture bent on self-promotion, the Gospel proposes a better option to the need for recognition. Who better to acknowledge us than God the Father? It is to Him we turn and from Him we receive the fullest affirmation. For Jesus, assured and secured in the Father’s embrace, the service of the vulnerable became the true expression of power. The reward promised for those who lay down their lives can only be claimed beyond this life. Lest we feel insecure and uncertain with this truth, we only have to look to Christ in Whom the instrument of shame and subjugation has become the source of strength and life. He who laid down His life for others became the Lord and Saviour of all humankind. In the Cross be my glory ever!
Saturday, 12 October 2024
28th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year B 2024
Do you sometimes think that the Church is stupid? For many of us, the experience of Church is basically immediate which means that the parish staff or the priest/s. When parishioners are at odds with the parish office or the priest/s, for them, that is the Church. But do you think that God is stupid? The answer is possibly no because we are God-fearing. Nobody wants to cross His path, just in case.
Today, someone walked up to Jesus to ask the question of eternal life. God’s word is eternal life but somehow that word mediated when through the Church does seem a bit outdated or even stupid. For example, last week, Jesus did not mince His words. He told the Pharisees outright that God had intended for marriage to be permanent but the Pharisees had been waffling with the teaching to suit their needs. They are not alone because many of us feel that “No divorce” sounds rather out-dated and dumb.
In the Gospel, Jesus proposed to the young man to sell all his possessions and to follow Him. We all know the outcome of the invitation. If we listen attentively to the 1st Reading and the Responsorial Psalm, they may strike a chord with some of us personally because we are living in a wealth-soaked society. It might not feel that way but not a few amongst us have enough money to last a couple of life-times. Now, imagine Jesus who directed the young man now telling you who have more than enough to leave everything behind and to follow Him. In the context of the 1st Reading and the Psalm, wisdom is needed when it comes to our relationship with mammon, possession and wealth.
Wealth and riches are not bad in themselves. In the OT, riches are considered blessings from God. They represent God’s benevolence. Our problem is not too much wealth. Rather our challenge is sharing. In that way, wealth and riches can and do enslave us. In inviting the young man to leave everything behind, Christ did not make of poverty or divestment of possession an end in itself. Two words come to mind and they are love and tension.
Jesus looked at the young man with love. Here, love is not soft. It is not indulgence or a condonation of our weakness. The 2nd Reading speaks of a double-edged sword which we can apply to the word “love”. Indulgently, we all want to be loved. But a two-edged sword would also mean we are to love as well. It is not easy to love in the fullest sense of the word. The love that Jesus had for the young man comes from a place of realisation and understanding. He knows that we struggle to maintain the balance, that is, everyone grapples and wrestles with the tension between having and not having. This is exemplified in two scriptural experiences. First, the temptation in the desert. Second, the welcome extended by Moses and Jesus in last week’s Readings.
Man does not live on bread alone. In His hunger, Jesus was taunted by Satan to turn stones to bread, He replied that Man does not live on bread alone. Christ was not saying that we do not need food because He knows that in order to worship God, we need strength provided by nourishment. After all, we are not angels but earthly creatures. The retort of Christ to Satan was simply that food is not and should never be our God.
Likewise we should be more welcoming, as we heard last week where Moses and Christ showed hospitality. But the slogan “all are welcome” can be deceptive because we know that not everyone is welcome. At least, not a terrorist, for example. True welcome is to love sinners but also to reject sins. The rule of engagement in wars is a good expression of this of proper welcome. We respect the enemy captured and treat him well even if we stand on opposite sides. True charity does not condone obstinacy or stubborn resolution in sinning. We protect ourselves against serial killers or rapists.
We are brought back to the central truth that following Jesus on earth is filled with challenges, most especially when it comes to wealth and possession. The Franciscans themselves were racked by this struggle. Immediately after the death of St Francis of Assisi, his followers clashed on the form of poverty they should embrace with regard to possession. It was not a pretty picture for them but it shows how hard it is for us to deal with possessions.
Detachment has never been a rejection or a repudiation of creation. Detachment signals one’s desire to cling onto Christ alone. On a recent pilgrimage, my luggage weighed about 12kg. I was proud of myself but during the journey, it became clear that I had two shirts and one trousers too many. What weighed down the bag were the small items which came from the thoughts of “I might need this or I might need that”. A pilgrimage is where one learns the meaning of true detachment because one’s luggage can be burdened by the weight of our attachments.
The lesson this Sunday is centred on our relationship with material possessions and wealth. The truth is we have too many wants but only a few needs. All of us Lazada, Shopee, Temu and Shein experts know this. Of late, we have been focussing on climate change and the need to adjust our lifestyle. Indeed, we should care for our common home, that is, show concern for the environment. It is a serious call by no less than the Holy Father. But like every follower of Christ we also know that this is not our permanent home. Is it precious? Yes, it is. Is it permanent? Never. That is the difference. It is wisdom to know where our permanent home is and none of our possessions or wealth can ever follow there. After all, Jesus did proclaim on the Mount: Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Today, someone walked up to Jesus to ask the question of eternal life. God’s word is eternal life but somehow that word mediated when through the Church does seem a bit outdated or even stupid. For example, last week, Jesus did not mince His words. He told the Pharisees outright that God had intended for marriage to be permanent but the Pharisees had been waffling with the teaching to suit their needs. They are not alone because many of us feel that “No divorce” sounds rather out-dated and dumb.
In the Gospel, Jesus proposed to the young man to sell all his possessions and to follow Him. We all know the outcome of the invitation. If we listen attentively to the 1st Reading and the Responsorial Psalm, they may strike a chord with some of us personally because we are living in a wealth-soaked society. It might not feel that way but not a few amongst us have enough money to last a couple of life-times. Now, imagine Jesus who directed the young man now telling you who have more than enough to leave everything behind and to follow Him. In the context of the 1st Reading and the Psalm, wisdom is needed when it comes to our relationship with mammon, possession and wealth.
Wealth and riches are not bad in themselves. In the OT, riches are considered blessings from God. They represent God’s benevolence. Our problem is not too much wealth. Rather our challenge is sharing. In that way, wealth and riches can and do enslave us. In inviting the young man to leave everything behind, Christ did not make of poverty or divestment of possession an end in itself. Two words come to mind and they are love and tension.
Jesus looked at the young man with love. Here, love is not soft. It is not indulgence or a condonation of our weakness. The 2nd Reading speaks of a double-edged sword which we can apply to the word “love”. Indulgently, we all want to be loved. But a two-edged sword would also mean we are to love as well. It is not easy to love in the fullest sense of the word. The love that Jesus had for the young man comes from a place of realisation and understanding. He knows that we struggle to maintain the balance, that is, everyone grapples and wrestles with the tension between having and not having. This is exemplified in two scriptural experiences. First, the temptation in the desert. Second, the welcome extended by Moses and Jesus in last week’s Readings.
Man does not live on bread alone. In His hunger, Jesus was taunted by Satan to turn stones to bread, He replied that Man does not live on bread alone. Christ was not saying that we do not need food because He knows that in order to worship God, we need strength provided by nourishment. After all, we are not angels but earthly creatures. The retort of Christ to Satan was simply that food is not and should never be our God.
Likewise we should be more welcoming, as we heard last week where Moses and Christ showed hospitality. But the slogan “all are welcome” can be deceptive because we know that not everyone is welcome. At least, not a terrorist, for example. True welcome is to love sinners but also to reject sins. The rule of engagement in wars is a good expression of this of proper welcome. We respect the enemy captured and treat him well even if we stand on opposite sides. True charity does not condone obstinacy or stubborn resolution in sinning. We protect ourselves against serial killers or rapists.
We are brought back to the central truth that following Jesus on earth is filled with challenges, most especially when it comes to wealth and possession. The Franciscans themselves were racked by this struggle. Immediately after the death of St Francis of Assisi, his followers clashed on the form of poverty they should embrace with regard to possession. It was not a pretty picture for them but it shows how hard it is for us to deal with possessions.
Detachment has never been a rejection or a repudiation of creation. Detachment signals one’s desire to cling onto Christ alone. On a recent pilgrimage, my luggage weighed about 12kg. I was proud of myself but during the journey, it became clear that I had two shirts and one trousers too many. What weighed down the bag were the small items which came from the thoughts of “I might need this or I might need that”. A pilgrimage is where one learns the meaning of true detachment because one’s luggage can be burdened by the weight of our attachments.
The lesson this Sunday is centred on our relationship with material possessions and wealth. The truth is we have too many wants but only a few needs. All of us Lazada, Shopee, Temu and Shein experts know this. Of late, we have been focussing on climate change and the need to adjust our lifestyle. Indeed, we should care for our common home, that is, show concern for the environment. It is a serious call by no less than the Holy Father. But like every follower of Christ we also know that this is not our permanent home. Is it precious? Yes, it is. Is it permanent? Never. That is the difference. It is wisdom to know where our permanent home is and none of our possessions or wealth can ever follow there. After all, Jesus did proclaim on the Mount: Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
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