Monday, 9 March 2020

2nd Sunday of Lent Year A 2020


We had two “close shaves” with Covid-19. Close shaves because both suspected cases turned out to be otherwise. So, in the interest of full disclosure, this is the fact, so far. Covid-19 has hit one of the parishes. It is not important where or which parish because it is merely a matter of time before we get one of our own. We may not have the source infection, but we can certainly be a vector for the spread. Hence, reasonable precautionary measures have been taken. The key word is reasonable because the almost certain (not absolute) measure that may stop the contagion is to cease ALL contact. If we adopt this “contactless” precaution and bring it to its logical conclusion, we might as well be in coffins because dead people have no contact. Our fondness for networking explains why human flourishing is social by nature. We are solitary by choice or circumstance. In essence we gravitate toward solidarity and only in preference or sometimes not, we lean toward solitude.

What can we learn from this Sunday’s Gospel in dealing with the current crisis?

Firstly, we learn about the nature of temptations or testing and secondly, how we respond to them reveals the God we believe in. 

From the desert of last weekend, we ascend Mount Tabor today—a journey that anticipates the climb to Calvary. No one who claims to follow Christ will be spared temptations. How have we stood up to the wiles of the lurking enemy? Not very well as Oscar Wilde had illustrated. Instead of standing up to the Devil, we frequently stoop down to him. Wilde would cheekily advise: the only way to overcome temptation is to give in to it. Succumbing to temptation is a behavioural response that disparages God’s grace as well as demeans human capacity to cooperate with that grace; a conduct which is not Christ-like.

In the apostolic ascent to Mount Tabor, one of the Temptations in last Sunday’s Gospel opens a window into our souls as we face the numerous challenges of life. Satan took Jesus up a very high mountain, whereas Jesus led the three apostles up a high mountain. Mountains are places of spiritual or sacred encounters. There on Mount Tabor, the three close associates of Jesus caught a glimpse of His glory realising that the man they had been following was more than a man. In the Transfiguration, they tasted His divinity.

It is on this high mountain that the Lord shows us what testing truly is. No matter how trying, temptation cannot exceed our capacity to overcome it when we are assisted by grace. This follows from the teaching of St Thomas that grace builds on nature. The Lord, who leads us up a high mountain, unlike Satan who took Jesus up a very high mountain, will not test us beyond our limits. Grace builds on nature means that God cannot lay upon us a burden beyond what we are capable of. Even in physics, this principle is observed. An example is Hooke’s Law with reference to an elastic spring. If you stretch the spring beyond its tensile strength, it will not recoil back to its original shape. Therein lies the beauty of Christ with regard to temptations. He knows we will fall into temptation, but He tells us to “Stand up. Do not be afraid”. In fact, from the cloud came a voice that says, “This is my beloved Son. Listen to Him”. This is the God whom we are to believe in and listen to.

But, do we really believe in Him?

We are now witnessing the second wave of the Covid-19 infection. Two things to note here. Firstly, precautions are necessary, and we have taken steps even though they might not be obvious. Secondly, foolhardiness is definitely not faith in God. With this in mind, about the precaution we need to take and also that being foolish does not equate to having faith, I would like to revisit the discussion about the cancellation of Masses in general and the manner of receiving Holy Communion in particular. The measures we have taken might reveal a clearer picture of the God we believe in and who is speaking to us in our fear.

The debate surrounding Holy Communion on the tongue is often couched in narrow subjective terms—mainly concerning the disposition of the communicant and of course, the state of one’s oral hygiene. In putting the case for Holy Communion in the hand, the persuasion will generally resort by default to an argumentum ad hominem. For example: When a person walks up, kneels down and stick out the tongue—is that person trying to prove that he or she is holier than everyone else? Within this logic, there is no reference to the “Whom” one is receiving. Who this God is whom one is receiving does not factor in the debate, apparently. One who “stubbornly” wishes to receive on tongue is frequently judged as Pharisaical and selfish especially in this current contagion.

The question of “personal holiness” (ex opere operantis) stems from a Protestant reaction. It seems that the Sacrament’s efficacy is dependent on the moral disposition of the person. If the reception of Holy Communion on the tongue is judged to be a display of a holier-than-thou attitude, then this logical question should be asked: Does that mean only a holy person can receive Communion on the tongue? If the answer is “No”, then, it follows that the subjective disposition of the person, or better still, whether the mouth is clean or dirty, these are irrelevant to the discussion about Communion on the tongue. According to the Council of Trent, “in the sacrament of the most Holy Eucharist is contained truly, really, and substantially the body and blood, together with the soul and divinity, of our Lord Jesus Christ". I am convinced that this is the reason for the seeming “stubbornness” of some people. It is not because they are holier than the rest. On the contrary, it is a gesture that stems from their heartfelt unworthiness before the God whom they are receiving. Communion on the tongue is symbolic of their reception of the God, the Lord, the King whom they adore and worship.[1]

Within this dispute on the manner of reception, what is more telling is that the precautionary measures that resulted in the cancellation of Masses elsewhere and the forcing of Holy Communion in the hand is not of the fear of Covid-19 but rather indicative of “what” we have come believe in. Holy Communion is no more than an empty symbol of Jesus for we no longer know the Whom we are receiving. This is evident in so many ways. We barely had 10 people at each stipulated hour of the Adoration and worse, when the Blessed Sacrament was processed from the Church to the prayer room, many were oblivious—talking and hardly anyone knelt before the passing Lord. The deacon may as well be carrying a banana, and people would not know the difference.

I am glad that the French Bishop from the Diocese of Belley-Ars has chosen to speak up. He decried the fear of the epidemic has now descended into an epidemic of fear. We run helter-skelter trying to avoid the contagion guided by a delusion that we are our own strength—a faith in our self-machination instead of faith in God’s solicitous care for us. In other words, we have to take care of ourselves. Why? Because our God is useless. He cannot take care of us.

This epidemic has exposed our lack of faith. Where is our faith in God’s attentive care for us? Will God ever test us beyond our capacity or we feel the trials that God permit us to suffer are cruelly beyond our capacity? The dumbing down of religious practice perhaps explains why we think our God is cruel.

In our Lenten campaign, one of the greatest weapons in our arsenal against the Devil’s temptations is self-restraint. This is why we fast. With God’s grace, we overcome temptation incrementally and not at a switch of a button. But our despondency is that God does not seem to work fast enough. We give in to despair. As mentioned earlier, Jesus knows our weakness and He encourages us to stand up and not be afraid. If you fall down, get up, fall, get up, fall, get up. And, whether we like it or not, according to Francis of Assisi, we have to make peace with Sister Death from whom no living man can flee. Coming to Church, we pray for God’s protection as well as for Christ’s strength to come to terms with Death’s inevitability.

We cannot allow this fear to cripple us. If anything, the Church should be packed with people praying to be delivered from this pestilence. Of course, the precaution holds even when there is no epidemic that if a person were sick and contagious, Christian charity demands that he or she stays away. Otherwise, pray more so that God will bend His ears to our cry to rid us of this plague, sooner rather than later.

In summary, you might be wondering why I brought up the discussion of Holy Communion on the tongue. I am making a stand. My fear is the increasing discrepancy between Whom we claim to believe in and what our practices signify. We accept that the Eucharist is the Body of Christ, yet, so many never check the palm after they have consumed the Host—to see if there are still minute fragments of the sacred species left behind. Each minute fragment contains the Body and Blood, soul and divinity of Christ, in its entirety, no less. Hence, my stand is not against anyone—not against Bishops who make decisions, not against people who fear, not against people who receive Holy Communion in the hand. It is against Satan—the father of lies and inconsistencies.

When at the end, we kneel down to recite the prayer to St Michael the Archangel we acknowledge that Satan prowls about seeking the ruin of souls. It is not a mindless prayer. It is real. Satan’s greatest weapon is our fear. He uses our fear to turn us away from God and for him, if the Blessed Sacrament is reduced to a symbol, as represented by the inconsistency between belief and behaviour, then Satan has imperceptibly won. He has managed to weaken our belief in the True Presence, making it harder to hear Christ’s assurance in this epidemic. Finally, if the Body of Christ were only a symbol, we have no hope of salvation. We might as well be receiving a placebo as the Filipinos would call it: Consuelo de bobo—a consolation for the stupid.


[1] Those who have habitually receive Communion in the hand should feel free to continue. They are protected by the indult that the Conference of Bishops of Malaysia, Singapore and Brunei, obtained in 1977. However, those who have arrived at an awareness of Whom they are receiving, and have chosen to receive Him on the tongue, they should also continue because to stop is to give in to contradiction which implies that one does not know Whom one had been receiving in the first place. The analogy here is one cannot “unsee” something. It cannot be that one day your belief led you to a particular gesture and the next day you behave in a manner contrary to your previous behaviour. So, if Christ is the King who deserves our best, it cannot be that we no longer give Him the best unless He is just a “thing” subject to one’s whims and fancies. Hence, ex opere operantis!!