skip to main |
skip to sidebar
A Christmas on a Saturday just means the feast of the Holy Family is on Sunday. Hardly had we time to savour Christmas then we are hurriedly ushered into the Holy Family. We glossed very quickly over the circumstances surrounding the birth of the Son of God. Now we stand at the cusp of the Holy Child’s passage from boyhood to manhood as we heard in the Gospel proclaimed.
The learning curve for Mary and Joseph is steep and the context is the annual obligation enjoined upon Jewish males to present themselves at the Temple on three occasions—Pentecost, Passover and Tabernacles. The one they should not miss on account of distance is Passover. While males were expected to be there, Mary’s presence indicated her commitment.
In our walks reciting the Rosary around the Cathedral, Uncle B and I would usually attempt a scriptural prologue before we recited a particular mystery. Typical of Catholics with poor biblical background, it was our valiant effort to ground the Rosary scriptually. It was one of those days, at the 5th Joyful Mystery, “Finding Jesus in the Temple”, I casually blurted out that “After three days of intensive search, Mary and Joseph find Jesus in the Temple amongst the elders expounding on the merits of Newtonian Physics and Einstein’s Theory of Relativity” and we broke out laughing.
But it was no laughing matter for Joseph and Mary because the boy has now turned 12. He is now considered a young Man and His religious instruction would have to become more intense. The relocation of the boy in the Temple is good place to start our contemplation on the meaning of being a Holy Family.
The title Holy Family is more than a description of their holiness. The first recorded words in Sacred Scripture from the Child to Mary must rank together with His later response to her when she made the request to turn water into wine. Or the occasion where the Mother and His relatives were looking for Him in the crowd. There appears to be a pattern of dismissive insolence or rudeness but not when one realises that the Child and later the Man Jesus is dedicated to the will of God. Even though Mary described both hers and Joseph’s grief at having to comb through Jerusalem for what they considered a lost Child, Jesus in reply referred to God as the Father: “Do you not know that I must be at MY Father’s business?”. This reply could only have deepened both Mary and Joseph’s anguish except that the Gospel noted that Mary pondered this episode in her heart. The same must have been for Joseph. In terms of holiness, the implication here is that Jesus has an intimate relationship with God the Father.
This crisis of a missing Child led to a clarification of His vocation and mission. For the Boy Jesus, holiness is an invitation to enter into an intimate relationship with God. Intimacy is the key word here. We do not carry out God’s will because it has to be done for that would suggest slavery.
What sort of relationship can one conceive of between a slave and a master? Generally it is characterised by submission. Does that sound like a religion we know of? Should not God’s will be embraced out of love more than out of fear? Without the intimacy of love, a person might chafe because a simple command will come across as an imposition. This is borne out of experience. Think of the occasions when a volunteer directs you to move away from each other or to sit elsewhere from your regular pew.
Those of us who value our personal freedom surely resent coercion. However, if we love, nothing is too much to bear. Where there is no love, even a minor matter will become a major inconvenience. Just be mindful especially of our aged parents who have outlived their usefulness or productivity. How easily we give into annoyance when they ask one question too many.
Christmas is basically the expression of the love of the Son for the Father. We frequently hear the verse from John 3:16 that “God loved the world so much that He gave His Son out of love for us”. The Father could not have sacrificed the Son if the Son did not in the first place loved the Father intimately in order to descend and pitch His tent amongst us. Holiness is less a possession. It is fundamentally relationship—with God.
Concretely, this relationship with His Father is lived in obedience through the family of Joseph and Mary. He lived as a member of a family and with that we all know that what is most sublime can be at the same time the most debased. You can pick your friends but you cannot choose your family. Surely, some of the worst fights are between family members, especially when money is involved. The greatest cross comes from the family and it is made more excruciating because we expect our relatives to be more loving and less hateful. In any relationship, the cut is always deeper the higher the expectation.
For good or for bad, we are stuck with the family because everyone must come from “somewhere” but we do not always have to remain there. We all have our history—to be proud or to be ashamed of. But bear in mind though that the worst sinners make the greatest saints proving that there is no familial history that cannot be redeemed because the Son of God who came to save us chose to be incarnated in a family. If history is the history of salvation, then the redemption we desire is mediated through the family. Thus, Pope Francis is right when he asserts that the family is essential for the transformation of the world because the value of love is learnt through the family. If the world is sanctified through the family, then rightly so that we title the family of Joseph, Mary and Jesus as the Holy Family.
Finally, the use of the word Sacrament usually refers to the distinct realities of Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist or any one of the other Sacraments. Underlying all these realities, the basic function of a Sacrament is to sanctify. Through the two Sacraments of service, Christ sanctifies the Church and the world. In the Sacrament of the Priesthood, Christ makes holy His priests and His Church. In the Sacrament of Matrimony, Christ sanctifies the family for the amelioration or the betterment of the world. According to St Cyril of Alexandria, “Our Saviour went to the wedding feast to make holy the origins of human life”. Thus, it is time for the family to embrace this saintly service, for the family is not just a social institution. It is not just a unit of measurement, meaning, the primary component of society. It is not even a remedy for human weakness or loneliness. The family is a supernatural calling, a necessity for the well-being of humanity. Without the family, civilisation will crumble. Without holy families, the world will be doomed. Therefore, families have no excuse but be holy because the world desperately needs holy families. Blessed Christmas.
If there is anything we can say of Christmas Midnight Mass, it is that the birth of the Child Jesus has nothing to do with us, that is, it has nothing to do with our merits. Nothing of what we do merit Christ’s coming except perhaps the “felix culpa”—the “happy fault” of Adam that won for us so great a Redeemer. At least that was the sentiment of Paul writing to Titus. God’s mercy is extended to us through the cleansing waters of baptism and the rebirth through the Holy Spirit. This ties in with the Gospel.
The observant Jews, proud of their ceremonial purity, despise the shepherding class for their lack of religious integrity—in short, shepherds cannot fulfil many of the pious obligations. These marginalised few became the first visitors and the first missionaries. The shepherds, response to this privilege of seeing the newly born Lamb of God, thereafter, rejoiced by bearing witness to God and spreading the Good News of the birth of the Saviour.
That we now move within this new normal matrix of exclusion of the unvaccinated should give pause for some reflexions on how we ought to see God in the marginalised and those whom we do not ever think that God could be present to them. Indeed, it is the dismissed or the discarded who have need of salvation. Those who are healthy do not need a doctor and so to these, the excluded, to them is born a Saviour. What does that mean?
In recent past, a point that has been hammered concerns the in-built missing piece which is the universal feeling of incompleteness. This is a natural deficiency which is not a sign of imperfection. Instead it points us to the completion which can only supplied by a Saviour. Our hunger or yearning for wholeness is like a compass directing us towards God for only He can save us.
However, human history is littered with attempts to provide the total solution to our passion and aspiration. Ideologues are quick to seize on this human need for a Saviour as they try to provide Man with the “total solution”. A good example within our living memory is communism. It was proposed as the answer to Man search for the “material equilibrium” that we had when Adam and Eve were in paradise. We should be able to create the heaven of shared abundance we yearn for through the forced distribution of private wealth. Then there are rationalists who believe that “reason” could supply the solution to humanity’s ills and yet in the last century, the same “reason” or logic purchased two great devastating wars for the world. Presently science and technology have been proposed as the saviour we have been waiting for, threatened that we are by climate change and a global pandemic. We are driven, in an age of instant gratification, to search for wholeness through our sensual pleasures—food, drinks, sex or drugs as if these alone can satiate our cravings for fulfilment. There is a dissatisfaction arising from the failure of expectation that has compelled some to embrace different psychological fads and herded a few to experiment with Eastern mystical traditions.
In the emergent light of dawn, the Angels’ message to the Shepherds teaches us one thing. For as early as St Ignatius of Antioch, an early Church Father, the Eucharist was spoken of as the “Medicine of Immortality”. This itself directs our attention to whom we truly need. Jesus is the only Saviour who is the perfect fit for the missing piece in us. We long to be saved but communism, rationalism, technology, psychological techniques, sensual pleasures or even esoteric religions are never going to be the final solution to what we want. As the slogan goes. “No Jesus, no peace. Know Jesus, know peace”.
Whether the world likes it or not, the true and not just true but the only answer to Man’s search is Jesus. And so, if the world continues to search for the missing piece, then the ministry of the Angels continue. They announce to the world that we have a Redeemer. The only thing for us to do, as the Shepherds did, is to give ourselves to the Angels’ message that a Saviour has been born which consequently requires a match between what we proclaim and how we live. These are basic nuts and bolts of an evangelical or missionary life so that from Christ-bearers we shall also become Christ-givers. Like the Angels we give the message to the world that their search for the missing piece will be fulfilled by Jesus the Christ. Blessed Christmas.
What is the standard check-in time for hotels? More or less, it is stated at 3 pm. How would you feel if you went to a posh hotel and the room is not ready at 4 pm? A hotels is supposed to be synonymous with hospitality. The midnight Mass gives us a line which might sound like the inconvenient experience in a swanky hotel where the room is not ready at the appointed time.
So, when Luke notes that there was no room for Joseph and Mary in the inn, there is more to it than meets the eye. This detail is more than symbolic for just as well that the Holy Family was not housed in any inn because we would have lost the Eucharistic symbolism.
She wrapped Him in swaddling clothes and laid Him in a manger. Many Churches carry the custom of placing the little Baby in the manger during the various Christmas Masses. It is such a heart-warming tradition. We know that a manger is a trough or tray used for feeding farm animals. If they took shelter in a barn, then the manger would have been fabricated from wood. If they settled in a cave, it more likely that the trough would have been moulded from clay or hewn from stone. Wood or stone, the connexions are clear. The manger made from wood shows us the future of the Cross. Thus, the Child laid in the manger will one day be the stretched on the Cross. In built, a manger is also shaped like an open coffin which reminds us of how the Child will one day lie in a tomb to await His Resurrection. More importantly, as the cattle gather to feed on the hay, so too will we surround the altar to feast on the Body and Blood of the Child whose destiny is to feed us in order to save us.
The Gospel context is clear for us at this midnight Mass. A Saviour is born for us. The lack of shelter may be explained by the fact of that a census was taking place but it serves to remind us that even before His birth, He was already rejected and later on, He would be humiliated on the way to Calvary. His sacrifice will ensure that we shall have the possibility to live forever. A question which we might ask is this: For all that He has given and done for us, what are we willing to sacrifice for Him?
It is not an easy question to answer and it does sound like a mean question to ask. On this most serene of nights, it feels like a lecture and a shame. The truth is no one is seeking an answer for now. It is after all Christmas—a time when we should be moved deeply by the mere fact that tonight the Prince of Peace makes His appearance.
According to historical records in 1914, deep in the trenches stretching from Flanders to France, opposing soldiers in World War I laid down their arms and enmity in order to savour the peace that descended on them during Christmas. In fact, this frowned upon ceasefire provided a moment of hope and joy for the beleaguered soldiers in the trenches. For a few brief but magical hours, men from both sides of the line shared food, sang carols, played games while the guns lay silent. Though enemies to each other, the respite came from their shared faith in the Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the King of kings and the Prince of Peace.
Through that miserable wintery fog, there arose a profound recognition that Christmas comes to us because the world is despondent. In itself, this statement is truly an understatement. Why? The world has been in anguish and agony ever since the Fall—ever since Adam bit the apple. Last year we were constrained from being present in person. This year the enquiries that came in were expectant but also apprehensive. Anxiety has surrounded this Advent waiting. Will the same restriction be imposed at the last minute? We desperately need the assurance that God still cares for us. In the dead silence of the night, never mind that we may be unable to even love God, we are given a great gift, that is, the Son of God Himself.
Whatever our disposition, the Prince of Peace bids us make room for the only peace that will ever restore our balance and heal our relationships. Sadly, in terms of our devotion, we cannot even come near to the Crib because we have to avoid crowding. But maybe let the symbol of the manger—the symbol of the Cross and Resurrection—be a timely reminder to us that as we receive the Body and Blood of Lord, He is coming to us. We should worship Him as He makes His home in our hearts—that where we go, we now bring Him along. Blessed Christmas.
Life is actually 99% boring, consisting of habitual humdrum. Every so often we hear the depressing lamentations of a 9am to 5pm routine. Duty is dismissed as demeaning chore. But life has to be regular because we need predictability to plan and strategise. Children with parents for hippies can attest to the sad reality of how disruptive life can be in their growing up years, living with whimsical irregularity. Our current climate conundrum with its capriciousness or volatility should be enough to disabuse us of the idea that a meaningful life is solely defined by the “unpredictable” 1%. We have been socialised or more like “socialied” into believing that 99% is not good enough and that a purposeful life should revolve around that 1% that is extraordinary.
Think about it. A housewife’s whose daily routine revolves around her family can sometimes be made to feel inadequate because her schedule is not as carefree as her careered contemporary who can make decisions on her own, free from any constraints of duty and responsibility. The point is this: there is already a missing piece within us which we spoke about last week. This “lack” is articulated as the instinctive yearning for happiness. Sadly this longing has been narrowly characterised by “running after temporal pleasures and material goods”. Note that on 26th Dec, the Lunar New Year decorations will immediately replace the Christ ornaments, if not already. We are searching for completion. This quest for fulfilment is certainly complicated by our myopic focus on the 1% adrenalin and dopamine-filled excitement.
If we abandon the 99% for the 1%, we will tragically be condemned to hunt for the perfect spouse, the ideal moment, the best employment, the model family forgetting that what we are looking for can already be in our midst. If God is with us, His will most likely be found in the 99% day-to-day regularity of our lives.
In this, we are helped by the Gospel. We have already focused on the great figure of John the Baptist for the last two weekends. This Sunday belongs to Mary and rightly so as the Gospel reminds us that in our midst is the Emmanuel. He is to be found where we are. He not waiting at the next corner or a later turn of our lives. He is not in the next job or the next fiancé or fiancée. Even though the Annunciation is often painted as a stunning event, yet the Angel appeared to Mary in a normal setting of her life.
Christmas is not many days from now. If life is mostly ordinary and once in a while extraordinary, perhaps we may conceive of Christmas as the extraordinary event breaking through our regularity—a kind of respite in our pilgrimage of ordinariness. In Mary, the cadence or rhythm of her life is observed in the simple act of leaving the security of her home and venturing into the hill country of Judah so that she can be of assistance to her aged cousin Elizabeth. Never mind the “distraction” that both the cousin sisters and the two lives in the wombs is painted in jubilant and exuberant colours. We are certainly captivated by the baby in Elizabeth’s womb, the last prophet of the Old Testament and the first prophet of the New Covenant, who by stirring was already pointing in anticipation to the future, “Lamb of God”. Such a spellbinding scene might just cloud the unpretentiousness of a newly expectant younger woman lending a hand to a heavily pregnant elderly. Mary thought nothing of her condition but only of her cousin’s and she reached out without any fanfare.
It is often in the unremarkable setting of life that we bring Christ to others. We do not need to be a dazzlingly spectacular preacher or a valiantly intrepid missionary. The only important person in whatever we do is Christ Himself. Now, if Christmas is like the 1% of life’s excitement, the fact remains that we need the 99% to arrive at the Solemnity. Thus, in terms of preparation to celebrate, where are we in our journey? How will we arrive at the moment where we celebrate Christ’s birth and His coming to us? It requires an openness to God working in our everyday lives, like Mary was. It is a simple process of making sure that our external preparation is matched by corresponding renewal of our interior life of grace. Are our preparations narrowly restricted to the decoration, drinks, food, clothing and gifts? A basic necessity in an interior revival is if one has gone for confession. We clean our houses and we prepare physically to receive Jesus at Christmas but our souls are left in a state of disarray.
Nevertheless, Christmas should be celebrated with vigour because it is the birth of the Saviour. Precisely it is the coming of the Lord that we all eat, drink and be merry. But, concentrating exclusively on merry makings would render our festivity a poor representation of the joy that our Salvation is near. John the Baptist leaping in the womb of Elizabeth is the epitome or embodiment of what an interior preparation should be like. Our hearts burst with joy not because we have more than enough to eat, drink or enjoy. It is enough to know that our Saviour is here.
So, when Our Lady said yes to St Gabriel, the ordinariness of her life became extraordinary because she began to Christ to others—notably to Joseph who was on the verge of rejecting her, to Elizabeth well into her pregnancy, a dumb-struck Zachariah and the baby in gestation John. The same can be for us. God comes to us all the time. It is not only in the grand scheme of things that God is to be found. Helping the poor does not have to take place only when there is a disaster or a calamity. Kindness does not require an excuse. We are good to others not because of who they are or what they can do in return. Instead, we are good because of who we are—graced by the presence of God, meaning that we have Jesus in us. More than ever we need to bring Jesus to a waiting world thirsting for salvation. This will be our challenge because it is not always easy. But, like Mary who said Yes, we can, we dare and we should. Jesus is Emmanuel. He is with us as He was with His Mother and if we say Yes, like Mary, He will pave the way for us.
Perhaps Gaudete Sunday can help to situate our appetite for happiness. Firstly, the Latin word is derived from the antiphon taken from Phil 4: 4-5 which also forms a part of the 2nd Reading. “Gaudete in Domino semper” meaning “Rejoice in the Lord always”. The change in the colour of the vestment suggests a break from the prevailing penitential mood because the Lord, our Redeemer, is near. According to the Prophet Zephaniah even God dances for us. Thus, when the Lord is with us, when He sambas for us, the proper posture is joy as Jesus Himself reminded the Pharisees that “surely the bridegroom’s attendants would never think of mourning as long as the bridegroom is still with them?”.
So, how should we outline this exultation? Last week, John the Baptist spurred those who sought him out to prepare themselves for the coming of salvation. The clue to our joy is found in their response. “What ought we to do?” Sinners of every shade and shape, converted by the Baptist, wanted to know how their transformation could be worked out in practice.
In today’s Gospel, we hear John speaking to three distinct groups of people—the ordinary crowd, the tax collectors and the soldiers. The answer given by the Baptist revolved basically around the theme of detachment in three simple areas of food, clothing and money. Those who have more should feed those who do not have enough to eat. Extra garments can be given to those who need basic clothing and finally those in power should never abuse their authority to extort from the poor. According to the Baptist, authentic conversion entails letting go of anything that can cling and choke the life out of us.
In the context of Christmas, a season generally steeped in plenty, and plenitude is often expressed materially. From the excess of mirth and merriment it is not difficult to conflate “joy” with material abundance or affluence.
Taking John’s counsel, joy springs not from acquisition but from detachment. Here, we are accustomed to think that detachment requires a stripping away of our possessions. Naturally that we tend to shrink or shy away from any action that suggests a forced separation. Psychologically, it is painful to be stripped of our possessions or to be deprived of our sensory securities because we love our creaturely comforts. The example of Jesus’ encounter with the Rich Young Man is a case in point. The young man was “sad” not because he was unable to dispossess himself of his wealth or detach himself from the good things of life. Rather his sadness was indicative of a heart that was not open to the possibility of joy—the chance to be filled with Jesus.
Detachment is more than the mere divestment of our wealth because there is no guarantee that a dispossessed person is joyful. Just because a person gives up everything, it does not mean he is going to be happy. This just highlights the point that detachment is an attitude which see everything in relation to having Jesus in one’s life. If freedom from a bad habit should be translated as freedom for a good habit, then detachment from possession should be translated as an attachment to Christ—to be taken up by and to be filled with the Lord. The Rich Young Man may have been blinded by his wealth but more than that, he could not recognise himself as one who can be joyful with the Lord.
If wealth tends to obscure our vision and if Christmas is a preparation for the coming of Christ, detachment, in the context of climate change and Laudato si, should mean a return to simple living, a refrain of the extravagance of excesses. It is not a kind of “killjoy” spirituality but rather it must come from an intentionality of living responsibly with respect to natural resources. This is the conversion that John the Baptist might be preaching about because Christmas always opens up the possibilities of fulfilling our wants rather than our needs. Today is 12.12, right? Lazada is a world of wants rather than needs. So, when we begin to live responsibly, this vision of life will allow us to view our celebration not only as a right but also as a responsibility. In a world overloaded by indulgence and extravagance, we moderate our lifestyle to counter overconsumption and wastage.
Thus, joy is more than the sensation we associate with happiness. Joy comes from the freedom that is built on a life which is in line with what the Church currently teaches in terms of stewardship. But more than that, joy is exuberant because Jesus is present. According to St Paul, “we see no answer to our problems but never despair, we have been persecuted, but never deserted”. For St Paul, joy never promises an easier life but nevertheless, we should not be deterred.
Finally, in proposing to the people what to do, it might appear that John was preaching “activism” but he was not. In recommending a simpler lifestyle, John was just pointing out that a freer heart will have space for others but ultimately a freer heart has room for the Lord. Nowhere was there any condemnation of riches because wealth in itself is not bad. However, without realising it, material possession has a way of corroding our vision, thus preventing from appreciating that the Lord alone suffices, that possessing the Lord, we will be joyful. Furthermore, we may have been brain-washed to believing that the goal of life is to be happy. Unlike happiness, joy is not defined by the absence of sadness or the absence of troubles. Rather, it springs from this knowledge that we belong to Christ and this knowledge remains even though circumstances may change. Joy breeds a kind of conviction that we are never lost, that we can never be lost because of Christ. If we are not convinced of Him, we can never exude Christian joy. Only those who are convinced of Christ can convince others. Gaudete Sunday: The Lord is coming. So, rejoice, for our salvation is near.
We come face to face with John the Baptist. A voice that cries in the wilderness asking that we be “prepared” for the Lord’s coming—either in His person or through our death. In the first reading, the atmosphere exudes a buoyancy as God welcomes the returning Israelites by filling up the valleys and laying low the mountains. However, while a homecoming radiates euphoria, still restoration must be accompanied by sincere contrition.
Structured into our desire for reconciliation and restoration is the commitment to repentance and reparation. Thus, in the area of restoration and reparation, it might be helpful to explore how compartmentalised our “sacramental senses” have become. For the sake of convenience, we have had to arrange reconciliation according to the availability of the ordinary ministers of the sacraments. The way the Sacrament of Confession has been organised may have socialised us into a sort of proceeding which has separated Contrition from Communion.
Such a segregation is possibly clarified by this question: “Does one have to receive Holy Communion when one attends Mass?”. Many will answer “yes”. The reasoning is pretty simple. The Mass is likened to a banquet and to attend one without eating does not make sense.
While it is an ideal to attend Mass regularly, however, there is no “obligation” to receive Holy Communion. Why? Both Canons #1247 and #1248 §1 answer the question. “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, the faithful are obliged to participate in the Mass” and “A person who assists at a Mass celebrated anywhere in a Catholic rite either on the feast day itself or in the evening of the preceding day satisfies the obligation of participating in the Mass”. There is no mention that an attendance at Mass obliges a person to receive Holy Communion. In fact, one’s access to Holy Communion is premised on having the “proper disposition” which means that there must not be a lack of faith, sanctifying grace, and right intention.
Without “proper disposition” in place, the answer to the question of Mass attendance followed by an automatic reception of Holy Communion would be affirmative. This is contrary to the accepted tradition that the remedy to improper disposition is to avail oneself of the Sacrament of Penance. For the faithful, the proper disposition to receive Holy Communion requires one who is conscious of grave sin not to receive the Body and Blood of the Lord “without prior sacramental confession”. (Can #916). In fact, one does not even need grave sin. Just simply not adhering to the Eucharistic fast, that is, refraining from food and drinks apart from water an hour before reception of the Sacrament, can keep a Catholic from receiving Holy Communion. This sounds “legalistic” but it comes from the “proper disposition” of having the right intention.[1]
More significantly, in terms of spiritual preparation, what has happened is that the lack of availability for one to confess can have an effect of removing this “need” for the “proper disposition” required for the reception of Holy Communion. The penitential services, accepted as necessary from the perspective of logistics,[2] may have contributed to a forgetfulness of the prerequisite of sacramental disposition. In some cases, putting off confession until the availability of the penitential services, a faithful may be receiving Holy Communion in a state of mortal sin. But not only that. It may also have even created a dichotomised logic which is keen to accept the Eucharist as the action of Christ Himself feeding us through His ministers, while at the same time, slow to appreciate that the same action of Christ is mediated through the absolution of the minister. If the Eucharist is efficacious in giving sanctifying grace, why not the Sacrament of Penance?[3]
Unfortunately, for not a few, the Sacrament of Penance is permeated with dread and fear. On the surface, it could be fear coming from natural shame. “What would Father think of me?”. Beyond fear, it could also reflect how “disincarnated” our sacraments have become. We believe at Mass, the Eucharist is the really, truly and substantially the Body of Christ but we are not that confident that the same absolution comes from Christ at confession. This mirrors our fragmented sense of the Sacraments.
In fact, a majority of the priests of the Diocese who met at a recent meeting expressed how “disincarnated” the Sacrament of the Eucharist has become. Some Catholics have come to accept that online Masses are good enough for their spiritual need. They are satisfied with “spiritual” Communion forgetting that this form of “reception” is directed to the fuller celebration of the Eucharist in person. We do not inhabit the world as avatars. Instead, we are a sacramental people and it is time to reclaim who we are.
To grow in appreciation of God’s forgiveness, Baruch’s returning Israelites are a powerful symbol of our penitential journey back to Him. It is an invitation to return to His love no matter how far we may have strayed. Our Advent preparation is defined by a relationship in which God is the Saviour we have been longing for. He wants to save us.
Thus, we should take this Advent to delve deeper into appreciating how central sanctifying and sacramental graces are in our penitential journey to salvation. The Sacrament of Confession forms the backdrop of our growing in excellence according to St Paul. Jesus the Lord is indeed coming to us. The flattening of the hills and the filling in of the valleys are indicative of our spiritual preparation. Do take note that the parishes of this vicariate will continue to roll out the penitential services. The faithful is free to go to any one of them and the schedule of the different parishes will be made available through our media channels.
However, in making Confession readily and regularly available and not just “restricted” to the penitential services, we want to return the Sacrament of Penance to its rightful place in the personal journey of conversion and commitment to Christ.[4] It is taking responsibility for our spiritual growth since “anyone conscious of a grave sin must receive the sacrament of Reconciliation before coming to communion”. (CCC#1385). Call the office or the priests. The telephone numbers are not difficult to obtain. I would encourage everyone to make personal arrangements in the days to come by giving yourself an opportunity to encounter the Lord’s forgiveness through the Sacrament of Penance.
The Sacrament of Confession brings us back to the figure of repentance, John the Baptist. He stands in stark contrast to the frenzied grip of commerce and the feverish gorging of consumption. We tend to spend and devour more than we should and Christmas seems to be a serious business on these two fronts. However, let the desire for a lively Christmas be matched equally with a strong interior renewal through repentance and the reform of our lives so that when the Reason for the season arrives, our hearts will be ready for Him.
________
[1] The argument will usually come from “God does not really care for such nitty gritty details”. Really? Would one dare to use this logic when it comes to a delicate microsurgery that requires precision with regard to “nitty gritty” details? What if the surgeon were to pick his nose in the midst of an open-heart surgery?
[2] There is no doubt that a specific time frame and a specific parish allow for the congregation of many priests and this helps with providing the sacrament of penance to those as many as possible who avail themselves of it.
[3] It may not be a problem of logistics. Even when confession is readily available, still people do not avail of it. This dichotomy could be a symptomatic of our shallow sacramental theology.
[4] Penitential services are so much more convenient for the priests. “Get it over and done with”. The appointment system requires commitment of the minister to be present for a penitent. It is definitely more inconvenient. But what greater joy than to welcome a penitent faithful at the time when he or she needs it most.
