3rd Sunday of Lent Year A

There is something familiar, almost tragic in the life this woman whom Christ encountered at Jacob’s Well. We could called her the Woman in the Well. Why? She had been married five times before and the sixth man she was with has left her empty and disappointed. What better describes her predicament than a well—a dark hole of incomprehensibility, of meaninglessness? St Augustine likened her condition to that of sin; the sixth man representing sin which only left her dissatisfied. Some of us may be living in wells even if we are not conscious of them; driven in despair or despondency to search for fulfilment in wrong peoples and places. Sounds familiar?

At the centre of today’s Gospel was a woman’s search and how an encounter with Christ led to her freedom from sin. A few scriptural facts may help us appreciate this encounter. First, Christ seemed out of touch with the reality that His people and the Samaritans did not always see eye to eye. There existed a wall of prejudices between these two groups of people. Second, social convention had already condemned this Samaritan to invisibility. She had to come to the well at an hour where people generally did not. Third, this was the longest conversation recorded in the four Gospels. The disciples may have been scandalised by His behaviour judging by their surprise.

The encounter was not a case of Christ deliberately over-turning social taboos. Instead, Christ broke barriers indicating that no human condition is outside the purview of His salvation. The conversation began simply with the reality of physical thirst that subsequently led to a fulfilment of her spiritual search. In the course of the dialogue, she told him, and we know it was lie, that she did not have a husband. There seemed to be a play between the numbers six and seven; with six indicating incompleteness and seven signifying perfection. Sin can never fulfil us no matter how promising. In her state of sinfulness, one can say that Christ came into her life as the “seventh” man. In meeting this seventh man and opening up to Him, she found what she had always been longing for.

We can surmise that she longed for the completion which only God can give—and not sin. St Augustine aptly described this craving as a restless heart searching for God. In a sense, she typified the search of every human heart. In searching, we often think in terms of objects or goals—money, fame, recognition, people and even God. But, our searching, at the same time, reveals what we truly need and who we really are—we long to be known, to be accepted and to be loved. To be known, accepted and loved are expressions of the search for who we are truly and what makes us whole.

Unfortunately, the prevailing wisdom has narrowed our search for who we are truly and what makes us whole to self-esteem, self-love and self-fulfilment—a need to be recognised, to be accepted and to be remembered. Christ is the only one who can fulfil this search. He is the only mirror that can reflect our true self to us. In this respect, Lent’s penitence is a potent path to this encounter with Christ. We deny ourselves of food and creaturely comfort to quieten our distractions. We intensify our prayers in order to strip away any vestiges of resistance to Christ and we amplify our charity so that we can meet Christ in His brothers and sisters.

We can appreciate the connexion between sin and the search for who we truly are. The woman in the well symbolises the slavery of sin and the search for freedom from sin’s slavery represents the desire to be who we truly are. This is the irony of it all. Our search does not end when we have discovered Christ. Here, the statement does not mean that Christ does not fulfil us. Instead our search does not end with Christ because it continues with Him. This is important as we can glean from the stages that Christ led the Samaritan woman through. Have you ever felt that there was a time when you were closer to God and now you no longer feel Him? That is what I mean when our search has somewhat “stopped”. We associate the time and space which we had as definitive of our relationship with Christ our Lord. For example, the high or the ecstasy after baptism or a retreat. Just like the 1st Reading: The Israelites wanted to return to the “sin” of Egypt only because of its familiarity.

Our search continues with Christ entails that we journey with Him into the deserts, up the mountains, down the valleys and into the plains. Saying that our search does not end when we have discovered Christ means that once we have discovered Him, where He is, there we want to be too. This mean discipleship—one who follows closely and intimately. Thus, the woman at the well is really a story of discipleship. She represents the meaning of Christian conversion. Conversion is not simply shrugging off sin. It is also discipleship. After her conversion, she became the Good News to her people.

2nd Sunday of Lent Year A

The Second Sunday of Lent in Year A is dedicated to the Transfiguration. The events of Christ’s Baptism and Transfiguration are closely linked because they both marked the new beginnings in His life. Baptism launched Christ into public ministry whereas the Transfiguration inaugurated His final journey into Jerusalem and set on stage the saving event that was to take place there. According to Patristic writers, both these theophanies were also revelations of the Trinitarian God as we heard in today’s Gospel: The Father spoke, the Son was transfigured and the Holy Spirit was present through the cloud.

However, what is of interest to us is how these two theophanies—the Baptism and the Transfiguration—also reveal to us who we really are. According to St Thomas Aquinas, baptism is the sacrament of regeneration and the Transfiguration is the “sacrament” of Man’s second regeneration.

It is this second regeneration that we want to further reflect upon. Firstly, the word “transfiguration” is itself instructive. From the Gospel’s usage, there is a connotation of the stupendous or something extraordinary. His clothes became dazzlingly white or our translation has it as “his face shone like the sun and his clothes became as white as the light”. It is as if the eyes of our mind are led to focus on the astounding or outstanding. Perhaps, the word “transfiguration” should be contrasted with another word which we also know, “disfigurement”. Here, the eyes of mind are led to the hideous or rather the once beautiful rendered ugly, like for example, a young woman’s beautiful face “disfigured” in an acid attack of a jilted lover.

The connexion between the Sacrament of Baptism and this so-called “sacrament” of second regeneration [Transfiguration] is more apparent now. Christian life is an ascent to Mount Tabor and what destroys this ascent to Transfiguration is sin because sin disfigures what was once made beautiful by the Sacrament of Baptism. According to the second reading, Christ abolished death and He has proclaimed life and immortality through the Good News. Through the Sacrament of Baptism, He calls us to be holy and invites us to the grace of the Transfiguration. Yet, the fact remains that many are gripped by the attraction of sin or are caught in the vice of disfiguring sin. How to explain, not excuse nor justify this attraction?

The first reading may help us understand why it is that we are attracted to sin. It begins with Abram’s father, Terah. The patriarch Terah uprooted his family from what we know to be the Fertile Crescent—that agrarian band of land framed by the Rivers Tigris and the Euphrates. They left Ur of the Chaldean for Canaan. But, when they came to Haran, which is at the source of the Euphrates, they settled there and it was here that Terah died. From here, we hear the call for Abram to uproot himself again.

What can we learn from this?

First, Haran was analogous to a pit-stop. Haran was never meant to be the final destination for Terah and his family which explains Abram being asked to leave again. Often in life, we mistake a pit-stop for the final destination. It is almost like stopping at one of the lay-bys along the North-South Highway and saying “This is where I am supposed to be”. That is what you get in the Gospel. Peter, with good intention, wanted to construct tents to commemorate a compelling encounter. He mistook the pit-stop for the final destination.

Second and more importantly, to settle for what is not our final destination always leaves us short. Sin is comparable to mistaking a pit-stop for a final destination. This may explain, and as I said earlier, not excuse nor justify our attraction to sin. In fact, it maybe help us in our decision making if we understand what sin is.

No one will knowingly choose evil. Sometimes we hear that people have to choose between “good” or “bad”. It is a no-brainer because there is really no “choice”. We always choose the good. Therefore, the attraction of sin lies not in its wrongness but our mistaken judgement or evaluation that it is something right and good. When we sin, we are in actual fact, choosing something which is less good believing that it is the good. It is, in a sense, believing that a pit-stop is good enough to be the final destination. The effect of settling for something less leaves us incomplete, or in other words, unformed [not fully formed], and therefore, disfigured. It makes sense now to say that “choosing” evil never leaves us satisfied even if at the time of commission, it feels satisfying. As such, our constant battle in life is not to allow sin to ensnare us with its false promise that it can fully satisfy us.

Lent consists of prayer, fasting and almsgiving. Every moment of prayer and contemplation, every sacrifice of fasting and abstinence and every good deed of almsgiving and charity is a step along the ascent to Mount Tabor. As we journey into Lent, the Transfiguration, that moment when Christ discloses His divinity is also a foretaste of what the future is going to be like. We catch a glimpse of our future. We may be taken up by the brilliance of the event but let us not forget that the grace of the second regeneration also describes a process by which our bodies are slowly reconfigured. How? Simply through the rejection of sin. Every sin rejected transfigures our bodies.

Christian life is a daily grind, a constant struggle to reject sin, to choose the better as we long and wait for the day, either at our death or at His Second Coming, when He will change, transform and transfigure our lowly bodies into copies of His own body in glory (Phil 3:21).

1. The Alkitab [they are our Catholic Bibles because they contain the books called Deutrocanonical] issue basically boils down to this. For a long time, in the name of national security and interest, we have been accustomed to not rocking the boat, to have even adopted self-regulation and are restrained. The issue boils down not just to Christians but to any religious persons. Are they entitled to use their scripture without being subjected to state control? The time has come and our leaders have decided that enough is enough. The goal-post has been constantly changed. Conditions have been incrementally made more stringent. We need to consider if we are content with the crumbs that fall to the ground even though some morsels seem to be more generous than others. Perhaps it is time to consider that our rightful place is at the table and not at its foot. How to respond to this? Our leaders have called us to remain calm and pray and commit this issue to pray. Let us stand in solidarity and pray for our leaders and forour country.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 9) Saturday 12th March 2011 1st Sunday of Lent Year A

In the play Hamlet, there is a verse that goes like this: There’s obviously method in his madness. This evening, a current of many concerns are swirling together. It feels like mayhem or madness because we have the first Sunday of Lent and today/this weekend marks the end of the Novena of Grace [if you had come last Sunday, it was the 3rd day of the Novena, today being the 9th]. The context of this Novena is the Jubilee Year which also coincides with 50 years of Jesuit presence here. Historically, the Society of Jesus has been here far longer because St Francis Xavier was the first to establish a Jesuit presence in Malacca. Sadly, that presence was not continuous. [All we have are a sign board from the Antiquities Dept confirming that St Paul’s Hill belonged to the Society of Jesus and a tombstone of a Jesuit Bishop who probably died on the way to Japan].

In this circle of seemingly conflicting concerns, what is the method? How are the Novena, the Jubilee Year, the Jesuit presence and the 1st Sunday of Lent linked?

They are linked to a person whom we encounter in the desert. Right after His baptism, Christ entered the desert of purification. The three temptations correspond to the three evangelical vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. We think that the evangelical vows are for religious but, in actual fact, they are antidotes against avarice [poverty against greed], lust [chastity against giving in to seduction of comfort and mistaking this world to be heaven] and pride [obedience against arrogance]. There in the desert, Christ was purifying Himself for His mission—a mission that did not come from Himself. The connexion between purification and mission will help us find the method.

But, the method is not to be found in an idea. It is not even found in a vision or even a dream. There is no selling of an idea here and if at all this can be considered “selling”, the method is point out this person to you: Christ Himself.

An idea, a vision or a dream can leave you short. Ideas are what ideologies are made of. It is true that there may be different ideologies about Christ. For example, the last 50 years or thereabout we have been bludgeoned with an image that Christ was really a 1st century revolutionary—what we would call a “political agitator”. Many were sold on this idea that He came to “upset” the status quo and some bought into the band-wagon of “anti-establishment”.

That might have been a correct image of who Christ really was. He could have been this teacher of morality, a political maestro or an idealistic rabbi who stood against the establishment of the day. But, reflect upon what happened during the first wave of this movement for historical accuracy, called the Quest for the Historical Jesus. The best representative of this first wave was Albert Schweitzer, the great African explorer, missionary and doctor. They were trying to uncover the “real” Jesus stripped of all the theological coatings that theology had painted on him. But, their scholarly search stumbled only upon a Christ whose portrait resembled the one searching for Him.

For us living through a period of upheaval, it is not difficult to find a Jesus who reflects the longings of our era—a “liberator”. If there is one thing which the Quest has taught us, it is this: the “Quest” even though historically, and therefore, scientifically motivated, it was not entirely “objective” because each scholar's version of Jesus often seemed to reflect the personal ideals of the scholar.

So, how do we know who Christ is? That was why a chapel specifically for adoration was built. I know that this answer sounds stupid. But, we built a chapel where the Presence of Christ could be felt. Of course, He is present everywhere. But, this is the point. You receive Holy Communion. I would like to believe that as many as there are people here who receive Holy Communion, everyone is united in this belief: It is not just a piece of white bread but it is none other than Christ Himself that one is receiving. That is how we know Christ. Where do we find this Christ?

Richard Neuhaus once said: The world desperately needs the Church to be Church, not “do” Church differently. The theme for the Jubilee says this: As Church in faithfulness to Christ. As I have said before, the sinfulness of the sons and daughters of the Church does not erase the fact that the Church that was founded by Christ on the rock of Peter would withstand the test of time. The remains faithful to Christ. So, different fads may provide different “flavours” of Jesus if you like, but what remains is that any genuine encounter of Christ is through the sacraments and supremely the Sacrament of the Great Encounter is the Eucharist. Where does one confect the Eucharist if not at Mass? Thus, the Church confects the Eucharist, the Eucharist makes the Church—the Church is where you meet the same Christ.

So, the Mass is the great encounter and the Chapel we built is the prolongation of the encounter. Perhaps you may understand why we had the 1000-hour prayer before the Blessed Sacrament. Fads will come and go but “Iesus Christus heri et hodie ipse et in saecula”—we adore the same Jesus Christ yesterday, today and forever.

Fashion is faddishly fickle. It will change but the only constant we have is the encounter with Christ through His sacraments. And this brings our method to the mission.—a mission that is of concern to us in the last 100 years or thereabout. Since the Industrial Revolution we have become more acutely aware of the injustice that exist amongst us. Christ was indeed prophetic when He said that the poor we will always have with us. I want to be clear that this prophecy was not a canonisation of “injustice”. Saying that the poor will always be with us is not the same as saying that the poor ought to be with us.

Instead, by His life, Christ brought the good news of salvation. He came to save us not only from eternal damnation but also to liberate us from the yokes of injustice. This mission has become our concern. It a crucial mission because the Church adopted a preferential option for the poor.

By now, you can see that we are concerned, and should be if we follow Christ, with our mission to and service of the poor. Ours—this parish and if you follow Jesuit spirituality—is supposed to be a faith that does justice. Translated, it is Christ and our love for Him which animates our actions for the poor. Otherwise, our actions on behalf of the poor will be nothing but expressions an ideology. The Communist tried to create a just and equitable society but where are they now? When ideology fails, where do we turn to? Thus, faith in Christ is necessary if Christianity is not perverted into a form of social ideology. In our era, Communism is Christianity without Christ.

In conclusion, I have been with you for nearly 10 years now. If I should die tomorrow, a fifth of my life would have been spent on forging a way for you to encounter Christ because your encounter with Him is the sine qua non, the one thing necessary before you take up His mission. There is a gulf of a difference between knowing the mission of Christ and the Christ of your mission. May this Jubilee be the grace of crossing from merely knowing the mission of Christ to an intense encounter of Christ Himself so that your every endeavour will be sustained by nothing but the deep love for Christ.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 8) Friday after Ash Wednesday 11th March 2011

Today is the 8th Day of the Novena of Grace and what areas have we covered so far? The thread through the last seven days has centred broadly on the call to holiness. This universal call demands that we draw lines. The boundary of holiness does not stop at the personal. It requires that we enlarge what is called the civilised public space for common existence—the space where mankind may flourish and civilisation may exist. Otherwise, we might sink into oblivion. But, in drawing the line for public engagement, we are at the same time drawing lines for sacred space. This space is sacramental in the sense that protecting this space shows our effort at allowing God to be God. The presence of sacred space indicates our respect for God’s sovereignty.

Second, holiness is linked to martyrdom. When we draw lines resisting compromise, we indicate a desire to be part of a great cloud of witnesses and that we on our part are willing to pay the price of witnessing, if necessary, with our blood. Accepting that we pay a price for holiness, we entered a reflexion that holiness is living truthfully and truth is defined not as a thing but rather a person Jesus Christ. Holiness consists of knowing Him, witnessing to Him and becoming Him who is the Truth. In trying to live the truth, holiness urges us to take responsibility for our decisions and actions instead of blaming others. Yesterday, I spoke on how the line of holiness that we draw must comes from a vision that extends beyond this world.

On Monday itself, we commemorated two martyrs of the early Church—Perpetua and Felicity. Today, we will revisit a topic which is close to their experience of martyrdom. For many of us, martyrdom would never be the price we pay. It is suffering. The embrace of an other-worldly vision will certainly involve suffering.

Suffering is a reality alien to so many of us. This sad state may be explained by the fact that we have trimmed our sails and settled into a more comfortable cruise called Christianity Lite.

In Christianity Lite, there is no place for suffering. Before you think that here I am advocating suffering, let me assure you that I am not. For example, I am not speaking of suffering arising from injustice as we heard in the first reading—strike the poor man with your fist. There is a difference between pain and suffering. Some pains are self-inflicted as when people make unreasonable demands on themselves, on others and on God. When our demands or expectations are not met, we experience pain. Furthermore, a dissolute life has consequences. But, this type of pain is not suffering because it can be managed—one’s expectations or changing one’s way of life.

Suffering, on the other hand, can only be embraced. Pain can be managed as in adjusting our unreasonable demands or it can be alleviated through medical means. However, we can only control pain up to a certain point. Beyond that, what? When one has taken all healthy precaution, one enters into the desert of suffering. Here in this desert, the only fitting companion is courage. Courage is no stranger to suffering because only with courage can suffering be embraced.

Why should we embrace suffering? Pain and especially suffering are not necessarily evil. If they were, then, they cannot fit into God’s plan of salvation. Instead, pain and therefore suffering is part of life after original sin. Take it at the level of the human cell. Its life may be described as a journey of pain and suffering. Why? Cells age and they die. A reason why there is a perception that existence or life is more “painful” is because this generation called “Body Beautiful” has unreasonably expected that bodies do not age or die. Or if you prefer a global outlook, take a look at the planets. We wonder where God is whenever a catastrophe befalls us, the recent being Christchurch where many lives have been lost and the latest, just two hours or so, a strong tsunami swept Sendai, Japan. Compare planet Earth with planet Mars. Mars is a dead planet, never mind the earthling obsessive search for water and life on the Red Planet. On Earth, the so-called presence of “suffering” is a sign of a living planet.

Thus, a good way to understand the presence of pain and suffering is this: The absence of God results in pain and suffering but pain and suffering are not proofs of God’s absence.

Thus, when Christ came to save us all, He did not come to liberate us from pain. He came to save us from eternal damnation and ultimate suffering is defined as the loss of eternal life. So, He who is sinless took upon Himself our suffering in order that we might gain eternal life. You can perhaps appreciate why not all suffering is evil.

According to John Paul II in his letter on suffering, he says that “Christ in bringing about human redemption through suffering has raised human suffering to the level of redemption”. It means that all of us that by virtue of sharing in Christ’s redemption, we also share in the world of suffering.

Human suffering, something which is beyond our control, is also a way out of our modern conundrum—the alienation created by our lonely existence. Do you remember that many of us were glued to the TV when we woke up on 26th December 2004? For some reasons, we were taken up by the sheer size of the catastrophe and the magnitude of the misery. But, a doctor took time off from his practice and he went there to serve those most afflicted. And there were many who did the same. Human suffering opens the way to human solidarity. Today, a solipsistic and solitary world is crying out for solidarity.

There on the Cross, Christ achieves the definitive solidarity that Man has longed for. As He stretched His arms on the Cross, He not only opened for us the road to salvation but He made it possible for humanity to stand in solidarity with one another. Therefore, our membership in the Body of Christ, through our suffering helps secure redemption. “In Christ, our suffering is not only human but also supernatural. It is human because, in suffering, we discover ourselves, our own humanity, dignity and mission. It is supernatural because it is rooted in the divine mystery of the Redemption of the world”.

In conclusion, let me rephrase what I said earlier that suffering is a reality alien to us. The truth is, suffering is not alien to us. We just do not want it.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 7) Thursday after Ash Wednesday 10th March 2011

The Lord is kind. In a sense, this statement is tautological because it is stating the obvious. Examples of tautology are colloquial expressions “repeat again” or “cuba try” [Malay, cuba = try] are tautological. He is kind because we are eating tonight. Yesterday was Ash Wednesday. It was not appropriate to “mark” the Novena. Tomorrow is Friday and we keep the “no meat” on Friday for the sake of universality. There is something to be said about “No Meat on Friday". A world that meanders aimlessly through the wastelands of vulgar democracy, "No Meat on Friday" is badge we wear with a certain humility. Let me be clear that I am not against democracy. Vulgar democracy tends to “democratise” diversity—to the point that nothing is important. What does it mean? Relativist ideology tells us that there are as many truths as there are the number of people here. “What is true for you is true for you and what is true for me is true for me”… I know I sound repetitious and annoying. But think further, this so-called pluralist [many] ideology not only relativises but also reduces your voice to a no voice. The crass democracy of ideas when relativised make the world a lonelier world. Nobody can really share your believe—because everything is true—like the idiocy that all religions are the same. Well, I hold on to something as sacred even if it does not really speak to me because of the universal Church. That was why I wore the ashes yesterday… not because I am holy but because I am proud to see other Catholics, sinners like I am, walking around, proclaiming not their holiness but our common need of repentance and forgiveness. Today we are thankful for the Gospel because it ties in with the so-called evening gathering after Mass—it is simple because it reflects Lent. So let me dive in. How does it tie in? The first reading is a kind of repetition of last Sunday’s first. Moses set before the people choices. Choose life and blessing. The Gospel echoes this imperative that we choose and it ties in with our Novena of Grace OF St Francis Xavier. Accordingly, Francis was an ambitious young noble destined for worldly success until he met a man from a world totally unfamiliar to him. As in when two worlds collide, one was aggressive whereas the other was gentle. Francis resisted valiantly with contempt and ridicule even as Ignatius reached out humbly with kindness until one, when the aggression was sufficiently tamed, Ignatius proposed what we have in the Gospel today: “What gain, then, is it for a man to win the world and to have lost or ruined his very self?” In Francis, Ignatius discerned a soul not unfamiliar with nobility and open before his very eyes a vision of honour not determined by this world. Francis was challenged to draw his line of honour beyond the world that he can see. If glory was what he sought, then he should seek a glory which does not vanish like a dream. It was then that Francis gave himself over to Ignatius and through Ignatius, he began on the road to holy enlightenment. The very drive he had for the world was converted into a passion for the things of God. The passion for things of God can only be achieved through an interior battle to mortify his “flesh” and to bring all his sense under control. How is Francis’ conversion relevant to us? First, Francis himself is an embodiment of a vision not unlike ours. In itself, there is nothing wrong with this vision except that it leads ultimately to emptiness. The riches of the world is a promise which at the beginning will come across as fulfilling. It is when one has reached the pinnacle that further questions need to be asked. How did I come here? What have I given up or what have I taken in order to arrive here? What else after this? The sense of fulfilment that Francis sought was not to be found in this world. Thus, those who think that the ultimate in this world would be satisfactory would be driven to search for the rainbow’s end. Second, Ignatius brought the shadows of Francis’ passion into light. He gave him a vision which puts to pale everything that could be passionately achieved. In the end, Francis saw the world through Ignatian lens where the Blessed Trinity, seeing the world in need of salvation, decides that the 2nd person should become man to save the human race. It was this vision that sustained Francis’ endeavours in this part of the world. This is the second day of Lent. Yesterday we put on ashes, and for some it begins a forty days of “whatever”… no liquid diet (meaning nothing more than 5% alcohol), no misdemeanour, no gambling, no smoking, no chocolates, no face-booking any number of “noes”. For some of us, a “no” can be cosmetic. Before you think I am ridiculing your Lenten practices, let me assure you that I am not. Instead I would like to make sense of what you do during Lent in the light of Francis’ leaving Europe for Asia. Unlike modern migration, Francis was not looking for a better life in Asia. He came to share the vision of another life. St Peter in his first epistle, one of the so-called Catholic epistles, Catholic not in the sense of the “Catholic” Church, but Catholic in the sense that it was addressed not to a particular community. It was addressed to the “whole” Church. St Peter’s letter was descriptive of the early Church—a sense of alienation. He speaks of their existence by using two Greek words: Parapaedemoi and paraokoi. They sound alien until you realise that the word economy has its roots in one of them. He used them interchangeably and can be translated as wandering sojourners and alien residents. A good contemporary word is “refugee”—Christians are the original “Pendatangs”. In a sense we are refugees/pendatangs because Christians live for another world. Our vision is of that world. But, what have we? We have acclimatised, naturalised and we have grown roots too deep. There are two groups of people here. First, there are those who defend their rights to be here of the good old days. Second, there are those who look for the greener pastures—herons flying south. Both actually live for the now thinking that the promised land is here and now and can be attainable in this life. Penances make no sense at all. God does not need appeasement. What He desires is that we go home. All acts of “penances” only make sense because we are supposed to be agile enough for the next world. They are undertaken not for themselves… if they were, then they are cosmetics. Holiness is a journey to that world. England, Australia, Malaysia, United States or anywhere that takes your fancy, no matter how comfortable, how durable, how conducive and most of all, how desirable this world is nothing but a glorified bus-stop.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 6) Ash Wednesday 9th March 2011

You know, homilies are funny creatures. There are times when in the toilet, I get brilliant inspiration and I would be waxing lyrical crafting what I would vainly think, a lofty homily. But come the time to commit to pen and paper, all heavenly ideas disappear like the proverbial will-o’-the-wisp. It is enormously frustrating. Anyway, let me begin with a story, a true one because it involved me.

I was out for movie. It was a midnight movie. [If you regularly keep an 18-hour day, midnight is the only time for recreation]. Seated the row behind me but a couple of seats to my left was a gaggle of giggly girls. They were talking. You know that type of conversation which comes from “You must know that I am here”. [Like on mobile phone in a lift or on the LRT]. They carrried on talking loudly because we have come to tolerate such behaviour. As the movie started they showed no sign of abating. I mimicked our universal sound for silence: shhhh… Well, you guess it. One of them shushed me back and they carried on talking. Then in my best Tamil slang, I turned around, raised my voice a little and said, “Oi, [censored], diamlah”. (Hey, [expletive], shut up). That caught my two companions by surprise. But judging from the general laughter, it seemed that I had done the right thing for soon we settled placidly into watching the movie. Did I get it right? Not the settling into the movie part but shutting them up?

Today, we continue to tread the path to holiness. Appropriately, it is Ash Wednesday and so we shall speak of sin—not so much the act of sinning or the sin but rather the responsibility for sin. Our world today is troubled not as much by sins or the prevalence of sins as it is by the lack of responsibility for sins. At the time of the incident, it was funny but I am not proud of what I did. The point is this. No matter how extenuating the circumstances may have been, still it was unwarranted that I should have used an expletive. In my defence, I could claim: “Those stupid girls made me do it”. The blame-game is as old as Adam. “The woman made me eat the apple”. We live in a world that has shrugged off personal responsibility and we have assumed blaming to be reason for our actions—from blaming my parents to blaming my spouse to blaming everyone else. Without breaking the seal of Confession, do you know how often priests hear Confessions of details that a so-called sin was caused by someone else. Many of us do not see the connexion between blaming others and mental illness. What do lawyers do when they want to absolve their clients of a crime? They advise the client to plead insanity.

We have come full circle from the ancient philosophy of sin as a cause of diseases to illness as the excuse for one’s sin. The point is, “others” may be mitigating factors but the buck needs to stop somewhere. Ultimately there must be one who sins. There is a term which you may have heard of. It is called “affective maturity”. It is not just about emotions but also about the ability to enter into relationships. An important criterion of affective maturity is taking responsibility of not only your emotions but also your decisions and actions. According to a priest involved in the Marriage Tribunal, gross immaturity is frequently the ground for annulment. And here, it has nothing to do with great accomplishment, intelligence or success. On the contrary, many who apply for annulment are intelligent and successful and yet, the dysfunctional patterns of their relationship often betray an inability to accept responsibility. Thus, the annulment process is really rehabilitative in this sense. It allows the person to take responsibility for his or her past actions.

But, unfortunately what happens is that sometimes both parties will be blaming the other for the state of the failed marriage. The Church’s canonical sanctions are pastoral and catechetical. It is never punitive. Instead it is rehabilitative. Society at large reacts to the Church—either it is too soft [as in the case of paedophilia] or too harsh [especially the excommunications]. Those who think it is too soft believe that sinners should be locked up and keys thrown away. But, there is always a way home.

Have you seen Assumption Church’s car sticker? It says: God allows U-turns. To those who think that we are too harsh, canonical sanctions are meant to impress upon us the gravity of our actions. If actions have no consequences, it becomes a licence for sin. With sanction always comes an invitation for the sinner to return home. Some parts of our penal system attempts to reflect the rehabilitative dimension of the Church but more and more, it draws the line when it comes to the death penalty. People cannot be forgiven and neither can they be rehabilitated. The only solution is to be rid of them. But, without the possibility of “rehabilitation” there is no possibility of taking responsibility.

The Church has a role even more crucial in this post-modern world. She tries to give clear moral guidance so that we may take responsibility for our actions. Why? When Modernity came, the world came to equate “intelligence” or “rationality” with morality, in the sense that, what was possible was also moral. For example, just because we can produce test-tube babies means it is OK. But, Modernity was a dismal failure because rationality did not prevent two great wars. And now we are in Post-Modernity which is a reaction to Modernity and its basic principle: if rationality did not prevent us from sinking into barbarism, “Why bother now”? This explains much of our chaos.

Today is Ash Wednesday—a time to appreciate the gravity of our actions. Have I sinned or not? Note that Communion is denied to those who are not baptised or are in a state of serious sin, whereas the imposition of ashes does not discriminate. Why? Because everyone is a sinner and therefore in need of saving grace. Imposition of ashes is only symbolic and it will remain as such unless one takes responsibility for one’s sin. The 2nd Reading says: For our sake, God made the sinless one into sin. Christ the truly innocent one took on the responsibility for our sins and paid for it on the cross. Since we are not Christ and therefore cannot do it for others, should we not do it just for ourselves? For Christ’s sake. [Footnote: Coming back to expletives—bad words, four-letter words, etc. Its pervasiveness in the broadcast media may be an indication of how dumb-down world has become which explains why we cannot take responsibility for our actions. In fact we are so dumb-down that we have come to believe that big, loud and strong are the only ways to express ourselves. So, a “real” movie has to have loud noise, car chase, destruction and mayhem. But, scholarship has something to do with contemplation—what I said yesterday about knowledge. Silence, unseen and the ordinary allow us to step back and think things through. I guess the contemplative religious have something to teach us. Behind their walls they stand as a fortress for civilisation. Once I was called up by Fr Paul Tan then. He told me that there was a complaint against me. I had been liberal in the use of expletives. I told him, quite cheekily, I like Cantonese because their expletives sound like music to my ears. Music or not, the liberal use of expletives is a symptom of stupidity. I am brought to mind Winston Churchill. It seemed that a certain Lady Nancy Astor once said to him, “Winston, if I were your wife, I’d poison your tea”. And, his response was simply: “Nancy, if I were your husband, I’d drink it”. He did not resort to calling her by names and even if he did, it was done with style. A certain Bessie Braddock accused him: “Sir, you are drunk”. Churchill’s response was, “And you, madam, are ugly. But in the morning, I shall be sober”. Today, our response to anything disagreeable is simply crass and unrefined. How to be civilised?

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 5) Tuesday 8th March 2011 9th Week in Ordinary Time Year I

The Gospel this evening is helpful to our Novena reflexion. The setting consisted of the religious bureaucracy [chief priests and elders], the spiritual elite [Pharisees], the scholars [scribes] and the partisans of a puppet ruler [Herodians]. It was a setting best described as practical political prostitution because they all had different agendas and ordinarily they had no reasons to come together. But in the interest of taking Christ down, they came together under the guise of honesty, under the guise of searching for what was true. The answer of Christ cut through their hypocrisy.

Thus, the Gospel setting leads us down another path of holiness. Holiness is related to truth. In a sense, the authorities were doing the right thing even though the intention was questionable. Holiness is living the truth because to know the truth is to act on it. What was hypocritical of this expedient religio-political group was that they had no intention of living the truth.

So what does it mean to live the truth? To answer this question, we need to clarify three things. Firstly, how do we come to know. This is not easy at all. In fact, in the current climate of post-modernism, forging consensus is made difficult by “how” we arrive at the truth. Our present day theory of knowledge largely defines the act of knowing as a subjective act. In a relativist paradise, this rule is ultimately expressed as “What I know as true is true for me”. But, knowledge is never merely a subjective act of the individual because the act of knowing is objective in the sense that the community also participates in the act of knowing. That is why knowing is inter-subjective, meaning that it is “objective”—that it can be brought out into the open. If we follow the ancient philosophers of Greece, knowledge is always of the truth. Therefore, the act of knowing and the object known are both objective in the sense that how we arrive at and what we arrive at must be open to question. Thus, to know is an objective endeavour because it is not dependent on how I think or what I feel.

Secondly, what is truth? Again, to define “truth” is to sink into a philosophical quagmire. Yet we must. Truth “is” and that is why knowledge is of the truth. Knowledge is of what “is”—meaning, of reality. Therefore, truth, if it is to be true, has to be the same for all of us, rendering the earlier adage “what is true for you is not true for me” as really untenable. And yet, many in this post-modern world hold on to this relativistic position. In a space as big as this church, there are as many “truths” as there is the number of people.

But all is not lost because thirdly, knowledge is never for itself. To know truth is not just to know “something”. Thus, the knowledge, which is of the truth, serves a purpose. For example, knowing that there is a drain in front of you means taking appropriate measures to avoid falling into the drain.

When I was younger, I used to like “facts”. You know, "the capital of Zimbabwe is Harare and the former name of Zimbabwe is Rhodesia”. This form of “knowledge” serves a purpose, that is, knowledge is power and knowing and rattling facts can be quite impressive. But, I have stopped watching any of these “knowledge” documentaries because the purpose of this type of knowing is simply a form of gluttony.

Knowledge serves a purpose and it is more than just “naked” power. Knowledge serves a purpose and it is about change. Let me pause for a recap. Both the act of knowing and what is known must be objective. This actually ties in with what I have said in days past. The drive to know is a rational endeavour because it takes me into the public arena—the space we call reason or discourse. Thus, if knowledge is not just for itself, then it must serve the purpose of changing people for the better; otherwise it is nothing but intellectual gluttony—an expression of an insatiable appetite to know—akin to the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder of “hoarding”.

Truth changes us and because it changes people for the better, it leads us to make difficult decisions such as to accept, to forgive and to love. Here, we are brought back to the Gospel. The group that posed Christ the question wanted to know but was not willing to change with what they have come to discover. Truth serves no purpose for them. Were they really after the truth that liberates or just information to destroy? [For many of us, information to store, to hoard for this future use which might never come].

In this respect, we have a lot to reflect on the purpose which comes with knowing. First, to know always involves change. It cannot rest merely at the “grasping” of what can be known. Let me give an example—the innocuous pastime called gossip. People who engage in gossiping always believe that they have “truth” on their side. When chided, a response you might hear is “It is true what…”. Even though there is “truth” in gossips, the question to ask is what sort of purpose do they serve? Is it to disseminate so-called “truth” or is it just an “assertion” of power since knowledge is power? [People use “information” or knowledge to blackmail or to destroy]. Gossips serve no purpose except to feed our salacious appetite to know. In the end, gossips, instead of leading us to ethical behaviour will end up destroying the community. To further illustrate the point that truth involves change, let us take a look at marriage. A spouse may be overly eager to know the truth about the husband or wife’s fidelity or infidelity. So check on the SMSes, emails etc. The more important question is what will he or she do with the unpleasant truth? Will the knowledge save the marriage? Humbly I submit that I know enough marriages to know that that kind of “need to know” does not help marriages. Here, I am not counselling blissful ignorance. I am saying that if you are not ready to know, then it does not help to know.

Because, we often think that truth is about transparency and disclosure. A crucial criterion for transparency is whether a disclosure would be constructive. Only then will truth become liberating. In a way, I am glad that the penalty for a priest breaking the Seal of Confession is excommunication. Why? In Confession, we know a lot of secrets—truths—about peoples’ lives. And yet, we have no right to disclose no matter how true that may be and even if we should be put to death.

In the end, if holiness is living the truth, the question to ask is not what “truth” is. It would be good to realise that truth is not a “thing” to know. Truth is a person to know: Jesus Christ. He does not hover behind the truth. He is the truth and Christian holiness consists of knowing Him who is THE truth, witnessing to Him who is the Truth and becoming Him who is the Truth.

The Gospel this evening is helpful to our Novena reflexion. The setting consisted of the religious bureaucracy [chief priests and elders], the spiritual elite [Pharisees], the scholars [scribes] and the partisans of a puppet ruler [Herodians]. It was a setting best described as practical political prostitution because they all had different agendas and ordinarily they had no reasons to come together. But in the interest of taking Christ down, they came together under the guise of honesty, under the guise of searching for what was true. The answer of Christ cut through their hypocrisy.

Thus, the Gospel setting leads us down another path of holiness. Holiness is related to truth. In a sense, the authorities were doing the right thing even though the intention was questionable. Holiness is living the truth because to know the truth is to act on it. What was hypocritical of this expedient religio-political group was that they had no intention of living the truth.

So what does it mean to live the truth? To answer this question, we need to clarify three things. Firstly, how do we come to know. This is not easy at all. In fact, in the current climate of post-modernism, forging consensus is made difficult by “how” we arrive at the truth. Our present day theory of knowledge largely defines the act of knowing as a subjective act. In a relativist paradise, this rule is ultimately expressed as “What I know as true is true for me”. But, knowledge is never merely a subjective act of the individual because the act of knowing is objective in the sense that the community also participates in the act of knowing. That is why knowing is inter-subjective, meaning that it is “objective”—that it can be brought out into the open. If we follow the ancient philosophers of Greece, knowledge is always of the truth. Therefore, the act of knowing and the object known are both objective in the sense that how we arrive at and what we arrive at must be open to question. Thus, to know is an objective endeavour because it is not dependent on how I think or what I feel.

Secondly, what is truth? Again, to define “truth” is to sink into a philosophical quagmire. Yet we must. Truth “is” and that is why knowledge is of the truth. Knowledge is of what “is”—meaning, of reality. Therefore, truth, if it is to be true, has to be the same for all of us, rendering the earlier adage “what is true for you is not true for me” as really untenable. And yet, many in this post-modern world hold on to this relativistic position. In a space as big as this church, there are as many “truths” as there is the number of people.

But all is not lost because thirdly, knowledge is never for itself. To know truth is not just to know “something”. Thus, the knowledge, which is of the truth, serves a purpose. For example, knowing that there is a drain in front of you means taking appropriate measures to avoid falling into the drain.

When I was younger, I used to like “facts”. You know, "the capital of Zimbabwe is Harare and the former name of Zimbabwe is Rhodesia”. This form of “knowledge” serves a purpose, that is, knowledge is power and knowing and rattling facts can be quite impressive. But, I have stopped watching any of these “knowledge” documentaries because the purpose of this type of knowing is simply a form of gluttony.

Knowledge serves a purpose and it is more than just “naked” power. Knowledge serves a purpose and it is about change. Let me pause for a recap. Both the act of knowing and what is known must be objective. This actually ties in with what I have said in days past. The drive to know is a rational endeavour because it takes me into the public arena—the space we call reason or discourse. Thus, if knowledge is not just for itself, then it must serve the purpose of changing people for the better; otherwise it is nothing but intellectual gluttony—an expression of an insatiable appetite to know—akin to the Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder of “hoarding”.

Truth changes us and because it changes people for the better, it leads us to make difficult decisions such as to accept, to forgive and to love. Here, we are brought back to the Gospel. The group that posed Christ the question wanted to know but was not willing to change with what they have come to discover. Truth serves no purpose for them. Were they really after the truth that liberates or just information to destroy? [For many of us, information to store, to hoard for this future use which might never come].

In this respect, we have a lot to reflect on the purpose which comes with knowing. First, to know always involves change. It cannot rest merely at the “grasping” of what can be known. Let me give an example—the innocuous pastime called gossip. People who engage in gossiping always believe that they have “truth” on their side. When chided, a response you might hear is “It is true what…”. Even though there is “truth” in gossips, the question to ask is what sort of purpose do they serve? Is it to disseminate so-called “truth” or is it just an “assertion” of power since knowledge is power? [People use “information” or knowledge to blackmail or to destroy]. Gossips serve no purpose except to feed our salacious appetite to know. In the end, gossips, instead of leading us to ethical behaviour will end up destroying the community. To further illustrate the point that truth involves change, let us take a look at marriage. A spouse may be overly eager to know the truth about the husband or wife’s fidelity or infidelity. So check on the SMSes, emails etc. The more important question is what will he or she do with the unpleasant truth? Will the knowledge save the marriage? Humbly I submit that I know enough marriages to know that that kind of “need to know” does not help marriages. Here, I am not counselling blissful ignorance. I am saying that if you are not ready to know, then it does not help to know.

Because, we often think that truth is about transparency and disclosure. A crucial criterion for transparency is whether a disclosure would be constructive. Only then will truth become liberating. In a way, I am glad that the penalty for a priest breaking the Seal of Confession is excommunication. Why? In Confession, we know a lot of secrets—truths—about peoples’ lives. And yet, we have no right to disclose no matter how true that may be and even if we should be put to death.

In the end, if holiness is living the truth, the question to ask is not what “truth” is. It would be good to realise that truth is not a “thing” to know. Truth is a person to know: Jesus Christ. He does not hover behind the truth. He is the truth and Christian holiness consists of knowing Him who is THE truth, witnessing to Him who is the Truth and becoming Him who is the Truth.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 4) Monday 7th March 2011 Ss Perpetua and Felicity

There are eight women mentioned in the Roman Canon or the Eucharistic Prayer I. The first woman is mentioned before the consecration. “In union with the whole Church, we honour Mary, the ever-virgin Mother of Jesus Christ our Lord and God”. This evening we celebrate two of the other seven: Perpetua and Felicity.

They were five of them martyred together in the 3rd Century. It sounds a bit distant from Apostolic times till you realise that they were martyred at latest circa AD210, a hundred years or so after John’s Gospel was written. Who were they?

According to a historical account, violent persecutions broke out during the reign of Emperor Severus. [With a name like Severus, how could it not be severe, you ask yourself]. Five catechumens were detained for the faith in Carthage. [Present-day Carthage is a ruin in the capital city of Tunisia]. Today we celebrate the memorial of both Perpetua and Felicity. The details of their martyrdom have reached us through a contemporary account—namely of Perpetua herself. It came from her own diary. She was of noble rank. Her companion, Felicity was a slave. Perpetua had just given birth and was suckling. Felicity was with child but gave birth just two days before the games—the day their execution took place. Both were baptised whilst in captivity.

They remained faithful to the teachings of the Apostles even though they were catechumens and for that reason they are relevant to us.

Consider the circumstances surrounding their ordeal. All through her imprisonment, Perpetua was tempted in the person of her father for he consistently begged her to apostatise. However, she was concerned for the well being of her infant and upon knowing that the child was in good hands she said, “The prison has been made a palace for me”. Imagine Felicity, who was rather apprehensive that she would not be granted the grace of martyrdom since Roman law forbade the execution of pregnant women. In the end, she was able to give up her child to a Christian woman.

The details of their martyrdom as described by Perpetua herself are not what we are accustomed to. Would you not consider Felicity’s apprehension a bit bizarre? But, that is fundamentally what it entails when one remains faithful. The teaching of the Apostles is more or less set, in the sense that it is there. It is being faithful that exacts a price to be paid. Are we willing to pay the price or is Christian martyrdom a dead language?

We may or may not be aware that martyrdom is alive. Not a few days ago, Shahbaz Bhatti, Pakistan’s Minister for Minorities, a Catholic, was gunned down. In different parts of the world, Christians have had to pay the ultimate price for their faith in Jesus Christ. According to the Vatican, between 2001 and 2008, more than 130 Catholics, who are known, have shed blood for the faith. Many more could be hidden.

If Christian martyrdom is not a dead language, perhaps, our not being acquainted with it, explains why it remains unreal for many of us. Yet, according to those attuned to it, Christian martyrdom today remains one of the greatest untold stories. John Paul II himself described that at the end of the last century, the Church had once again become a Church of the martyrs.

For us to appreciate martyrdom, we really need to hear more stories of Christian struggles. Unfortunately, we top the mock list and to be fair, in some cases we do deserve it. But, in the category of fair recognition, not so much for the sake of triumphalism, we come in last. It means that the media is often silent in the case of Christians dying heroically. The stories of Christian struggle are often told in silence.

Perhaps, the readings themselves may help us understand why it is that we are not so acquainted with martyrdom. They basically tell us that it does not pay to be good. Poor Tobias, despite his goodness, still went blind. The landowner, in his kindness leased out his land, only to have his son killed. In short, it does not pay to sacrifice.

Negative media and the lack of heroism have contributed to a dampening of our spirit of sacrifice. Furthermore, we also shy away from sacrifice because sacrifice takes the shape of suffering. Unless we accept this, the idea of dying for someone else, let alone for Christ remains unreal.

The last few days I have been speaking about holiness and how a notion that we often associate with those who are far removed from reality is really accessible to all of us. So, here by speaking of the martyrdom of Perpetua and Felicity, am I backtracking? Because, by all appearances, martyrdom seems to be inaccessible. But, au contraire, martyrdom and holiness are essentially linked. Although holiness comes within the reach of every Christian, it comes with a price. That price is martyrdom. Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German theologian put to death by the Nazis, once said that grace is not cheap. Every day when we decide to live a life of holiness, when we draw lines and resist compromising, we enter into the territory of martyrdom for that is what it really means: witnessing. There is something about holiness that is beautiful; likewise martyrdom. Its beauty can never be hidden. That is when we move from private Christian living to public Christian holiness. I believe all the martyrs recognise this beauty. To the world it may seem like a valueless piece of stone. But, to the enlightened, the stone the builders rejected has become the cornerstone. Hence, sanguis martyrum - semen christianorum, the blood of martyr is the seed of faith.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 3) Sunday 6th March 2011 9th Sunday of Ordinary Time Year A

Let me recap for those who were not here yesterday and for those who were, consider this a repetitive synopsis.

Yesterday, I spoke about drawing lines as both Moses and Christ did in the first reading and Gospel. In relation to drawing lines, I mentioned about the pervasiveness of the gated communities as a form of drawing lines. Unfortunately, we have drawn them too short. We have made personal security to be the line that defines us. What happens when the lines of personal safety that we have drawn are breached? Where do we run to and what happens to the self?

The answer must lie in enlarging the public sphere without which we cannot exist as a civilised people. This space must be reclaimed by all and for all so that public discourse and meaningful interactions may take place. Otherwise, we will have to retreat behind the anonymous walls of twittering, blogging and face-booking and from there, shout into the void called the public arena. It is when we do not claim this public space for all that those who believe that "might is right" will flourish. That is why tyranny and dictatorship exist.

The word alone is not really a “lonesome” word. Alone does not mean “alone”. Instead, alone means that one is not with others. In effect, the need to be alone throws the individual back into the community—otherwise known as the public space—against which one can claim the privacy or solitude needed. The Gospel today urges us to listen to Christ’s words and act on them. What do listening and acting mean if not living in the public arena? Holiness does not cordon us from the world or cocoon us into what is merely our personal space but brings us into the heart of the public square where the battle for Christ is fought and won. And to do that, we must draw the lines for public arena to exist. In doing so, we are not drawing lines in order to be self-righteous. Instead, we are drawing lines to be righteous for that is what it means to build our lives upon the rock of Christ. That was yesterday.

Today I would like to focus on drawing another line. This time it is the line for the sacred. Let me begin by calling your attention to the projection before Sunday Masses. One of the slides concerns propriety in dressing. Some people have reacted to it. Let me explain the context for the slide. It was printed about 4 years ago. It arose from the youths themselves who felt that people ought to be educated on their dressing. If you go to other parishes, you will find notices posted with details of what is or not accepted as appropriate. Why the long wait before we put it out? Even this recent putting up the slide and distributing the leaflets came as a request from the youth ministry.

The reluctance of putting up such a sign is due to the fact that we have not sufficiently accepted the necessity to draw a line for the sacred. So, this evening I would like to attempt an explanation of why we should.

Our society, in general, believes that lines or boundaries are not necessary to human interactions. Perhaps what is truer is that the lines or boundaries have already been decided according to a liberal agenda. From this perspective, the Church has often been viewed as having a fortress or siege mentality because she has some rigid boundaries. What happened after Vatican II, was a process of blurring the line between the sacred and the profane. This blurring continues—with regard to human reproduction, to marriage and to family. With regard to the Church, a nagging feeling that the Church is too rigid comes from this “blurring” that has taken place.

But consider this. When God created the heavens and the earth, all was in a formless mass. Then God drew a line between night and day. He drew a line between land and sea. He drew the greatest line between animals and Man. You know the creation story. Suffice to say that even God drew lines. He drew lines limiting His omnipotence in order that we may flourish and exercise freedom. Two things may be said of God’s limiting act. First, it was His prerogative to limit Himself. It does not say that we now have the right to behave more than our freedom allows. In short, it does not mean we get to play God. Second, the boundary that God demarcated was not absolute in the sense that God was absent. God has always been present but we on our part need to draw lines to allow God to be God.

There is a need to recover that line that return to God His sovereignty. We do it not because of who God is but more so because of who we are. Why? God does not need as if He were defective but we need to because we are limited and boundaries acknowledge the limits of our creatureliness.

The attempt to demarcate between the sacred, meaning God’s space and the profane, meaning our space, is sacramental because of who we are. We are sacramental whether we acknowledge it or not. Since we are not spirits, this is translated as giving God time and space. [1]

When we renovated the front porch, a baptismal pool was constructed at the entrance to symbolise the effect that the sacrament of baptism has. It opens the door to the other six sacraments. Without baptism, one cannot receive anointing of the sick, be confirmed, receive Holy Communion, or be ordained. What we use to show that it was a baptismal pool was basically a coconut matt. People were walking on it and wiping their shoes… that was because they did not know what was underneath. Today, there is a demarcation—a sense that this place which can open the door to all the other sacraments is sacred and it must be accorded the dignity befitting its sanctity.

The sacred or a sacred place reminds us that God is present. Sacred places are sacramental reminders that the profane world is shot through with the presence of God. Does it make sense that the early Christians recognised this and their acknowledgement resulted in the monumental and soaring spires of cathedrals and churches? [2]

I am never in favour of demarcating anything for itself. But, the only way to remember that God is everywhere is when we have sacred places. When St Augustine wrote the City of God, Civitas Dei, he was thinking of the City of Man as the preparation for the City of God. Today, we must not forget that drawing lines are important and much more, lines that demarcate sanctity or sacredness. They are measures of our preparation for the Civitas Dei.

FOOTNOTES:
[1] This idea that we can worship anywhere is not an absolute idea. It is relative simply because we are embodied spirits. Not forgetting that there is a space, not just any immaterial space, but real space for God is important. Our culture is pregnant with such spiritual presences—maybe not of the God we worship but of the “penunggus, the datuks, the keramats”. Whichever cultures we go to, there is always a sense of the presence of the sacred and that sense is marked off by time and space through what we called ritualised behaviour.
[2] What is more, civilisations can only flourish when God is present. Today, we have mistaken the prowess of progress to be the flourishing of civilisation. We seem to think that technological advancement is the only measure of civilisation. Is it?

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 2) Saturday 5th March 2011 9th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

To those who did not come yesterday, let me recap a little of the 1st Day of the Novena of Grace. Otherwise, you might wonder why I seem to go off-tangent. I made a connexion between a trip to the former Jesuit Noviciate in Hong Kong, the Novena that we are in and the Jubilee Year of the parish—the connexion between these three is the universal call to holiness. This call is rooted in the mysteries of the Church and of Christ Himself. First, the Church is holy because Christ made her so. Second, Christ Himself preached holiness. The second mystery we can understand but the first about the Church being holy is where we may have difficulty with because of the sins of her children. Some cannot make a distinction between the Church, who is always holy, and Christians, who are not. And for some, this becomes an excuse for shirking the personal responsibility of responding to the call to be holy. Finally, holiness does not result from merely managing or changing sociological structures. For example, get rid of structures of injustice and we become holy. Instead, it requires a hard look at oneself as well as striving to make what is NOT of Christ in us disappear so that what is truly of Christ can appear. And for this enterprise we need Holy Mother the Church for she gives us Christ Himself through the sacraments.

Today the reading points us towards the space needed in order that the universal call to holiness may flourish. Let me tell what happened the other day and here I will revert into colloquialism and also use politically incorrect language. The other day I was going into the City for a function. I was with Fr Michael and just on the bridge turning into the Federal Highway, I saw what many of you may have seen and some of us may have done. A couple of cars ahead, I saw a window winding down and a bunched up ball of toilet tissue tossed out. I thought to myself, “So pariah lah, if want to litter, at least, throw out Kleenex lah”. Anyway, I was not about to let them go.

Well, prior to this incident, I was behind a BMW near to Amcorp Mall, same action but this time it was mandarin orange peel tossed out. That time, I flashed my lights and when I drove past the car I made some signs of disapproval but it was not communicated because the other car could not see nor hear me. So, coming back to Jalan Gasing bridge, as I caught up with the Toyota car on my right, whom did I see? Two Chinamen with a hair-do from a Jinjang saloon. I wound down my window and shouted across saying, “Oi! You so dirty lah!” and drove on. Of course, the traffic being heavy, we moved at different pace, the Toyota caught up with me and the passenger shouted back at me and gave me the dirty finger. That I ignored and as it got ahead, it sort of slowed down to give me another dirty finger.

Before I go further, I would like to make a clarification. Do you know why I give the marques of the cars? BMW and Toyota. We mistake style or standard for “civilisation”. We expect a person who drives an expensive car to behave according to the standard he or she subscribes to. It is a fallacy and it ties in with yesterday’s homily. It is an age-old fallacy to equate knowledge with virtue. Knowledge does not necessary translate into virtue. Just because a person has a university degree, it does not mean that he will have morals. Likewise, just because you are beautiful or dress beautifully, it does not mean you will have impeccable manners. Just because you meet a Christian, it does not mean you will encounter Christian behaviour. It proves the point that the Church is holy but people inside are so much more in need of conversion. In fact, yesterday after a homily on holiness, this took place in the basement. Fr Michael was in the car park removing his car so that someone else can move out but a car behind him was honking away impatiently. Coming for Mass and receiving Holy Communion is not guarantee that there will be no sin.

Now coming back to the story. Why this story? Well, I was fed up. Many of us are fed up. And it has something to do with drawing lines. After the earlier BMW incident, I decided that enough was enough, I was not going to keep quiet. Even though I did not know who the occupants in the Toyota were, I was quite prepared to face the music. Later, someone told me that if I had reacted to the dirty finger a fight would have ensued.

Last Sunday, I mentioned about the enclaves of gated communities. We gate ourselves believing that we will be safe. It is one of the expressions of self-reliance that in order “to be”, one has to “wrought, forge and make of oneself”. Self-reliance is well and good. But, what happens if within our gated community, still a break-in takes place? Where do we run to if the product of our self-reliance, that is security we forge for ourselves, is breached? Today, when public space is no longer safe, personal security is necessary to self-definition. Without security, the self may just cease to be. What can be done in order that the “self” does not cease to exist?

The answer lies in drawing lines. At least the first reading and the Gospel are clear in drawing lines. Moses told the people to choose. Draw a line between good and evil. The Gospel too drew a line between building on rock and on sand. The gated enclaves highlight to us that our problem is not that we do not draw the line. We do. It is just that we have drawn it too short. We make “personal” space to be the definition of who we are. Therefore, that which is not directly linked to the “personal” space will definitely fall without our care or concern.

On the one hand, it is easy to dismiss this lack of care or concern as apathetic. The usual culprit we blame is the “tidak apa” or “couldn’t care less” attitude. On the other hand we also are wary that drawing lines will make us “self-righteous”. But, in actual fact, drawing lines increases not so much the “selfish” space as it increases our public space. It increases the space for public and social interaction.

In a sense, twittering, blogging, face-booking are perhaps symptoms of small “private” spaces. It is true that one might reach many but it is often from the comfort of anonymity and so-called safety. But, there is such a thing called public space without which we cannot exist as a civilised people—a space where public discourse may take place. That space must be reclaimed by all and for all. If not, just a few will widen their own space to take over that public space meant for the good of all and they make it their personal domain. That is why tyranny and dictatorship exist.

I am sure that you would have passed by people in need. Again, let us not be hasty in judging it as selfishness or apathy. It merely highlights the reality that we have come to expect that someone else will provide the help, someone else will do the good deed. By far, the biggest sin in public arena is not really the sin of commission but the sin of omission. A famous quote attributed to an Irish statesman, Edmund Burke, succinctly conceptualise the need for us to enlarge the public arena. It goes: “For evil to flourish, all that is needed is that good men do nothing”. According to the same Burke, to mean well falls short of what public duty requires because public duty demands and requires that what is right should not only be made known but made prevalent; that what is evil should not only be detected, but defeated.

The Gospel today urges us to listen to Christ’s words and act on them. What does that mean if not living in the public arena? Holiness does not cocoon us into what is merely our personal space but brings us into the heart of the public square where the battle for Christ is fought. And to do that, we must draw the lines for public arena to exist. In doing so, we are not drawing lines in order to be self-righteous. Instead, we are drawing lines to be righteous for that is what it means to build our lives upon the rock of Christ.

Novena of Grace of St. Francis Xavier (Day 1) Friday 4th March 2011 8th Week in Ordinary Time Year I

I just got back from Hong Kong not many hours from now. In fact, Bro Gerard, Frs Lawrence and Albert are enroute even as I speak. The last couple of days have been excruciating in the sense that there I was visiting the Jesuit communities and works in both Hong Kong and Macau and yet, every part of me felt the urgency of this Novena of Grace. I brought things there to do but it was, like what last Sunday’s Gospel says--impossible to serve two masters: it was either be in Hong Kong and do what we had intended to or be at home and attend to the necessary. In the end, I surrendered and placed myself in God’s hands. [Fr Michael says I am pre-empting an excuse for a homily that will "bomb"].

On the second day, Tuesday, we ferried ourselves to an island of significance for Fr Lawrence Andrew. It was the island Cheung Chau—really an island for those who are accustomed to walking a lot. The Jesuit noviciate is located on this island—some of our older Jesuits were trained there—you may know them—like Bishop Paul Tan and Fr Peter Kim among others. How was this visit relevant to us this evening?

A visit to a Jesuit noviciate, the Novena of Grace and a Jubilee Year—I thought that they were connected by the call to holiness—an appropriate start to the Novena of Grace in this Jubilee Year is to echo the Church’s universal call to holiness. Actually, there is a redundancy somewhere in this statement I have just made considering that “Catholic Church” already means “universal” and “holy”.

Perhaps, the word “universal” in the context of the call could be read in relationship to a “restricted” religious call to holiness. For a period of time, a common understanding was that “holiness” was the preserve of those special people called to be priests or religious. We hear it from time to time “that’s only for holy people”. At Vatican II, in a timely manner, Lumen gentium reissued the Church’s long-standing teaching that holiness was never intended to be restricted to men of cloth, men and women of habit.

What does it mean that universally we are called to be holy? The Church understands this call as coming from the mystery of the Church herself and from the mystery of Christ Himself; these two mysteries are linked and an understanding of it is important.

First, the mystery of the Church. She is holy and she is made holy by none other than Christ who gave His life for her. Not only is the Church the Bride of Christ but she is also described as His Body and He perfects her by the gift of the Holy Spirit. As she is holy, we, her children, everyone and none excluded, are called to the same holiness which according to the same Lumen gentium is to be shown forth through the practice of love in some cases or the evangelical counsels in others. In short, whatever state of life we are called to, there we find holiness to be lived.

Second, the mystery of Christ is fundamental to why we speak of the Church as holy. For Christ Himself preached holiness. Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect. He provided the means of holiness through His Spirit. By means of Baptism, we put on Christ. We become sons and daughters of God the Father and we have a share in His divine life. This second mystery resonates with us and we understand this.

Now, what is problematic is the link between the two mysteries.

In fact, it was fashionable at one time to speak of "the Church in need of renewal and purification”—the phrase used was “ecclesia semper reformanda”. Faddish or fashion aside, that was true and has been proven true because of her children. At times we get lost in this mess which is rather an inevitable result of sharing in what is otherwise known as the human condition. Notwithstanding the human condition, these two mysteries give us a clearer picture of who the Church is. She is the faithful Bride of Christ, whose faithfulness is not called into question by the infidelities of her children.

Failure to recognise the link between these two mysteries has led to the phenomenon which we see time and again: rejection of the Church and what is more, a reduction of religion to spirituality. “I believe in Jesus and my faith is personal”. If we do not recognise this distinction that Christ’s Bride, the Church is always faithful and we, her children, are the ones who sin and are in need of conversion, then, it is possible that the sin of the individual becomes the sin of the Church. Without recognising how inextricably linked the mystery of the Church’s holiness is to Christ her beloved, “holiness” becomes a captive of the community.

What do I mean? I am holy only because the group is holy. In fact, the individual becomes a captive to the rise and fall of the group, the community etc. Does this not explain why parishioners become discouraged and fall into despair? We look at a group of people and we are instantly turned off. It does explain many cases of Catholics leaving the Church for the “Pentecostal” sects.

But, Christ is holy, the Church is always holy and we are called to holiness despite the presence, the ubiquitous presence of failure within us and amongst us. Not forgetting this allows us to approach the sacraments with the certainty that despite all failure, Christ and His Church will never fail.

With such a certainty, we can now speak of individual holiness. It makes sense that my holiness is not hinged on the failure of others as often has been the case. Look at Anne Rice, the famous writer of the Vampire Chronicles. Early in life, she rejected Catholicism only to find it and then reject it again, stating that she rejected it on the basis that the “Church” has monumentally failed—without making distinctions between the Church and her members.

The failures of individuals or communities are not excuses for the lack of personal conversion. Instead, holiness is allowing what is not Christ’s in us to disappear so that what is truly Christ’s can appear. This is the real meaning of "ecclesia semper reformanda". The saints recognise this by reforming themselves and not by “dreaming” of new structures or new management.

After Vatican II, what we saw of the world, we also began to see of the Church. We viewed the Church through a structural and a sociological lens. And to a large extent we began to focus on structural changes to reflect sociological realities. Change structures and voila! You are on the way to a changed and a better world. But, we are nowhere near a better world. In fact, we are brought back to what is fundamental, to a world in need of change: the self. This "ecclesia semper reformanda", "the Church in need of purification and renewal" has seen us falling over ourselves in trying to change structures, sometimes forgetting that persons make structures.

Brother and sisters, to complete the phrase "ecclesia semper reformanda", we need another phrase "ecclesia semper aeternum"—"the Church is eternal" because she is eternally the faithful Bride of Christ and so the path to holiness means never turning away from His Bride the Church, no matter how pressing it feels. It means the hard and difficult road of looking at ourselves with the eyes of Christ (justice) and changing ourselves with the heart of Christ (mercy). It calls for the constant battle in daily life and not just ecclesial life and this battle takes us to our family, our work and our community. It takes us out into the world and for that we need our Holy Mother the Church for within her bosom we draw the very life that makes her holy—Christ, whom she makes available to us in the sacraments.