Easter Vigil Year C

I wish tonight could go on forever. You heard me right. A service of 2 or even 3 hours is just too short. But, the reality is that, like all Catholic services, one always keeps an eye on the clock. It is almost barmy to wish for a long service because people will grow restless. Perhaps “restlessness” is the key to understanding why tonight should be a long service. We celebrate the most solemn of Christian feasts. The larger than usual crowd is testimony that we instinctively know this to be so—that this is a solemnity like no other solemnity and that we have to be here somehow. Why?

The reason is a celebration that is out of this world—the resurrection. The gathering of the Elect is tied to the hope of the resurrection. In the Letter of St Paul to the Romans, we discern the strong connexion between baptism and the resurrection. “When we were baptised in Christ Jesus we were baptised in His death; in other words, when we were baptised we went into the tomb with Him and joined Him in death, so that as Christ was raised from the dead by the Father’s glory, we too might live a new life”. The basis for baptism is so that we can enjoy the resurrection.

The central proclamation of the Church is the hope of the resurrection. In the Acts of the Apostles, truly a class act, Peter’s preaching or kerygma forms the basis of the apostolic teaching that has come down to us—a kerygma that witnessed to the life, death and resurrection of Christ.

So, how can we appreciate the resurrection 2000 years later? Imagine the 3000-strong Pentecost crowd and as the Acts says, “they were cut to their hearts”. But that is not the end of the story because they asked Peter and the apostles what they must do; just like the Elect asking for baptism. I can imagine how it must have felt like to be there to hear the Apostles’ testimony of their experience of the resurrection of the Lord. The Apostles ate, joked, talked, walked, roughed it out in the open, and finally, after the resurrection, they touched the wounds on His hands and side.

In a sense, they were truly a privileged lot. Would it not be nice to be where they were? It would make what we have here pale in comparison. One almost wishes to be where they were and surely faith would be much easier.

But, is that true? This is plain wishful thinking, just like what we often hear people say: Seeing is believing; seeing makes believing easier. If only we were there, would not faith be easier? In a sense, it might be but being there is no guarantee of faith. If Jesus were to appear today, many of us would have difficulty believing Him to be He. Why? You see, in the matter of belief, probably there are broadly two categories of people. First, the gullible people we read about in the newspapers. For example, the people who believe that paper can turn into US dollars… Gullibility cannot be equated with belief. Believing everything is not necessarily faith. [And the gullibility level of our country has gone up because our education system has gone to hell].

If we are not gullible, then we belong to the second category of people. We believe that Christ will come again but if He were standing here telling us that He is really the Messiah, we would have difficulty believing Him. All you need is someone in the congregation who tells you, “I am the Son of God” and immediately your “cuckoo counter” will start blinking. So, in a sense it must have been harder for Peter and the Apostles. In fact, John 6 is best proof of that. If you want to be where Peter was, preaching to the 3000, you would have to be at John 6 because it had taken a lot for Peter and the Apostles to stay put and not slowly disappear like most of everyone.

So, in the matter of faith, seeing is not always a matter of believing. Instead, faith is an act we have to make, a bridge which only we can cross ourselves. Thus, the Elect tonight should know that for Peter and the Apostles, seeing Jesus was basically that. They know Jesus, they may have many first-hand experiences of Jesus but in the matter of faith, they too had to struggle to come to believe in Him.

Earlier on, I mentioned something about restlessness. We are restless not because the service is long. We are restless because we struggle with the resurrection. We are restless because we fear to live the resurrection. [1]

You see, the best time to celebrate the resurrection is during funerals. Almost every one of us, like Peter and the early Christians, struggles with the resurrection. The two disciples left Jerusalem for Emmaus because they felt let down. Many of us believe in the resurrection but when death assails a person we love, we behave as if this were the only life there is and there is no resurrection. Faith in the resurrection is a vision that can peer beyond the veil of death to see a life awaiting us beyond the here and now.

So, in the end, perhaps “seeing is believing" becomes true when we are able to bear fruit by the way we live our lives. It is when we live our belief in the resurrection that people will be drawn to follow us. The early Christians came to believe Peter and the Apostles because they sense the apostolic faith; believing must bear fruit for others. For so many of us, we need to bear the fruit of our belief so that others can see and sense that we are alive because of the resurrection.

Today we are baptising a small number of people. What a feeble number! Indeed, it is a testimony that our faith is not scintillating enough to draw people to Christ. The resurrection has given us meaning for the next life. But, it has also given us so much more to think about, about how we can make others come to believe in Christ and His resurrection. Elect soon to become Neophytes and all the baptised, we all have our duty all cut out!!

FOOTNOTE:
[1] If the resurrection is of another world, would we not want to be at any of the celebrations that allow us to catch a glimpse of the other world? A good indication of our fear of the resurrection is when we try to solve every problem we have in the world. A world fearful that the resurrection may not be true is one which will seek “certainty” in this world. Of course, younger people are more susceptible to this because they have been fed on the milk that brute strength itself is enough to shape the solution that we are seeking for. Those who live on the edge of life’s winter will perhaps have a more benign view that life is too short to be perfect and that perfection can only be found after the resurrection, as according to St Paul’s Letter to the Philippians (3:21) where “He will transfigure these wretched bodies of ours into copies of His glorious body” and so aptly echoed in the Eucharistic Prayer III used for funeral: In baptism, he died with Christ: may he also share His resurrection, when Christ will raise our mortal bodies and make them like His own in glory… See brothers and sisters, because of the resurrection, divorce, death, disaster cannot be the final dissertations in this life…

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

If you understand the tricky business of organ transplant, then you’d begin to understand the parable in today’s Gospel. Harvest is not only a time-consuming affair but it is also a timely one. When the harvest is ripe, one has to gather quickly. In a sense, both the workers and the vineyard owner are desperate. One is desperate enough to hang around the whole day waiting for employment and the other desperate enough to go in search for more labour to expedite the harvest. The urgency ends with God paying disproportionately to those who work. What are we to make of this God?

Firstly, it seems that God is an unfair God. And we all know “unfair”. For those who experience injustice, an unfair God who is generous does not resonate well with us. For example, there are people with top grades who know the unfairness of being denied a place in the university. We know of qualified people whose promotion is denied but instead it is given to less qualified people. In short, merit is unmerited in an unfair society. An unfair God only amplifies the humiliation of the experience of blatant miscarriage of justice.

Therefore, the Gospel is disturbing to say the least. It tells us that we have this God who is generous but his generosity is not bound by the limits of fair-play and justice. And the First Reading sort of supports this point. “Yes, the heavens are as high above the earth as my ways are above your ways, my thoughts above your thoughts”. God’s way of behaving is not like ours.

To understand this God, we need to consider the question Jesus asked: “Are you envious because I am generous”? Thus, the question is not about justice or fairness but of envy. The first batch of workers had agreed upon a set wage. The subsequent batches of workers were promised a fair wage. Thus, there was no question of injustice. They were paid according to what they had agreed. The sore point came when those who did the least amount of work got the same as those who did a full day’s work.

Envy is something which afflicts all of us. And the language of envy is “that’s not fair”. It often leads to resentment and if left unchecked will eat into our very being. Envy is also amplified if we feel ourselves victimised.[1] Perhaps, our experience of “unfairness” is actually the experience of envy.

The hearers of the parable knew what Jesus was talking about. It was not injustice or unfairness that they were reacting against. The truth was that Jesus had been consorting with sinners and the Gentiles. The Jews and the Pharisees represented those “called” by God at the start of the day... and as such, they thought that they should be privileged. The problem is that God seemed to treat with kindness the late-comers: the sinners and the Gentiles. It was not unfairness on the part of God but envy on the part of the Jews and the Pharisees that God should ever be so kind to those who do not deserve it.

The reaction of the Jews and Pharisees is occasion for our deeper reflexion. As stated, the Jews and the Pharisees represented those privileged to be the first people chosen by God and sinners and Gentiles were plainly Johnnies-come-lately. The relationship between the privilege of the first and the last to be called has a bearing on evangelisation. First of all, the call of God is gratuitous and unmerited on our part. It is God who calls and at any time one is called, the appropriate response is gratitude. Secondly, if one were called first, the honour is more responsibility than it is privilege.

And this is where we need to be more aware of our responsibility to those who come after us. Are we doing enough to bring the Good News of our calling to people who have yet to know Jesus Christ? That is the gist of the 2nd Reading: I want to be gone and be with Christ, which would be very much the better, but for me to stay alive in this body is a more urgent need for your sake.

In summary, at first glance, we who aim to form a society under the principles of justice and fair-play are somewhat taken aback by the Gospel because God seems to be unfair. But upon closer reflexion, we realise that the Jews and Pharisees were envious of God’s generosity and sadly, their envy blinded them to their responsibility. A calling does not accord greater privilege. On the contrary, we are yoked with greater responsibility to bring the good news of salvation to people everywhere. On our shoulders lies the Gospel. To be called first is to be a light to the world. We are to be the Good News and that is why the 2nd Reading ends appropriately: “avoid anything in your everyday lives that would be unworthy of the gospel of Christ”.

FOOTNOTE:
[1] Just as an aside, you know that we sometimes remember things we read or hear. Well, I remember a primary text from Plato on the question of Justice. I can’t remember which one of his works but I remember very clearly that one of his characters in a discussion said something like this: “Justice is for those who do not have the guts to be unjust”. We dare not be unjust and so we don’t like others to be unjust. There is an element of envy in this, I think!!

11th Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Last week, the Gospel passage gave us details of the calling of Matthew. This Sunday, the Gospel tells us that Jesus selected the Twelve, amongst whom is the same Matthew from last week’s Gospel. To understand this week’s Gospel, we must read it in the context of the other two readings. In the first reading, God shows his love for the Israelites by choosing them to be his very own people on condition that they hold fast to him. The 2nd Reading shows how loving God is because Christ died for us even though we were still sinners. And finally, the context for the naming of the Twelve is the masses of people whom Christ saw as harassed and dejected like sheep without a shepherd. He was filled with compassion for these people and for that he asked that the disciples pray that God may send more labourers to the harvest field.

The theme that runs through the three readings is simply that God takes the initiatives on our behalf. He formed a covenant with the People of Israel. He lovingly died for sinners. Finally, Christ (1) sees the crowd, (2) summons the Twelve and (3) sends them out to minister to the people on His behalf.

At one level, the call of the Twelve can be interpreted as the call to the vocation of the priesthood because exorcism and curing of diseases belong properly to the ministry of the ordained priesthood. However, at another level, it is less restrictive than what we think. What we observe is that Christ takes the initiative to make us partake in His compassionate love for humanity.
In this enterprise or venture, the choice of the Twelve is an incentive for us to respond to Christ’s call. They were called not because of who they were. The Twelve were ordinary people. Some were fishermen. Two were hot-headed. One of them would betray him, one denied him and one doubted him. Despite their obvious weaknesses, still Christ called them. He did so not because they were clever or capable but because He believed that they could bring His compassion to the world. And through baptism, the ministry of the Twelve becomes ours. No one here is exempted from this ministry.

Every Christian is called because the world needs to hear the good news that they are loved and that they can be loved. Every day, we are bombarded with bad news. Each time I attend a meeting, I come away heavy because of challenges that need to be looked into and solutions that must be found. I suspect that this must be the same for each one of you who has to struggle with work, with home or with school. Now this is even more acute as we struggle to come to terms with inflation and the mounting cost of living. Battle-scarred, we need the assurance that Christ our Lord is concerned for us. He is there for us and He cares for us.

But, for many of us, Christ’s compassion and his redeeming love is not palpably present. Thus, the harvest is great and the labourers are called to make present Christ’s compassion in the Daily struggles of life. Christ said to the Twelve: Do not turn your steps to pagan territory, and do not enter any Samaritan town; go rather to the lost sheep of the House of Israel. And proclaim that the kingdom of Heaven is near. In other words, Christ’s counsel is meaningful when we consider that charity begins at home.

Where you are, not where you should be but where you are, people are to hear the Good News, people are to experience our help and encounter the compassion of Christ. Today is Father’s Day. The restaurants are laughing their way to the bank. We are told to remember our fathers. Last month we were told to remember our mothers. The point is, it is better to be remembered ordinarily rather to be feted extraordinarily once a year. People need to know that they are loved, not because they can perform, not because they can function but simply because they are loved by God.

Christ’s counsel not to go to pagan territory was not an absolute prohibition. It was a conditional prohibition simply because to announce the Good News everywhere does not really make sense if we cannot first announce it where we are. The call remains. The truth is, we can’t do everything. But, the fact is, we can do something.

3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Have you ever perpetuated a misconception or even lived one? Remember how we were told never to eat two conjoined bananas because of the belief that eating them will result in giving birth to twins? It is a simple case of similarity mistaken for causality. It’s like playing with your uncle’s bald head will make you bald faster. We may call it plain and pure superstition but unwittingly or unknowingly, many of us do perpetuate misconceptions or even live them.

The calling of Andrew, Simon (otherwise known as Peter), James and John might be a good start or beginning to debunk some misconceptions.

In a sense, you can say that the calling of these four men was the start of Christianity. Therefore, it is safe to conclude that Christianity was a religion born in Asia. But for many of us, Christianity seems to be a foreign religion; as foreign as a missionary La Salle Brother or Infant Jesus Sister imported from Ireland or France, for example. It doesn’t take much to arrive at this conclusion. Statistics may support the conclusion for of all the continents, the most populous is Asia and yet it is the least Christianised.

Still, it is a misconception which we must dispel with. Christianity is NOT alien to Asia. It is true that Christianity was able to use Greek philosophy in its self-explication but that does not diminish the fact that Christianity was and is an Asian religion because its roots are the Old Testament and therefore Semitic. Jews and Arabs may be Semitic but nonetheless Asians. In the beginning Christianity spread towards the East, towards Persia, India and China. In fact, if you like, near Karbala the city of Shite prominence, south-west of Baghdad, you should be able to find an ancient Church that pre-dates the dominant religion of Iraq today.

It is not surprising that because of this misconception that Christianity is a Western importation, we have been told not to use a certain word for God. In fact, I remember that we were told to stick to Latin. So, you imagine what a misconception can do? And, the worst thing is that there are Catholics who live this misconception because they tell me that it is wrong for another priest to call God by the name which we are not supposed to use.

Today, we are told that Jesus called the four. There is perhaps another misconception that we may labour under. We are used to thinking that calling equals vocation—vocation to the priesthood or religious life. The calling of these four might give us an excellent occasion to speak about answering the call to priesthood or religious life. But that is to restrict the call of Jesus, as if his calling were for “new” people. Like Christ is calling for new apostles.

But, we need to re-think about calling because there is a crisis here in Asia, whether we recognise it or not, whether we acknowledge it or not. It is a crisis of recognition; a crisis which touch upon our Christian identity. If we accept Christianity to be an Asian religion, then it should find the soil of Asian hearts a fertile ground. It’s like having a home-ground advantage. Christians should have their task of evangelisation cut out for them. There should be more Christians in Asia since Asia is the home of Christianity and Christianity is at home in Asia.

But, there are not. Christians make up less than 3 per cent of Asia’s population.

So, the crisis we have is related to the majority of Asians not recognising the few Christians living amongst them. The call of the four is not so much Christ calling for “new” apostles as His call is a challenge to Christians living out to their utmost ability the charism of their baptism which according to the CCC the “common priesthood of the laity is exercised by the unfolding of baptismal grace—the life of faith, hope and charity, a life according to the Spirit”.

It is through this life of faith, hope and charity lived according to the Spirit that others recognise Christ. This is a challenge to which we must rise. But, the sad thing is we often excuse our failure by supplying the reason for the lack of conversion to Christianity on the venerability of the other religions—notably Buddhism and Hinduism. The usual response is: Buddhism and Hinduism are older and more established religions whereas Christianity is a Western importation and 3 per cent is testimony to 500 years of failure in evangelisation. We blame the crisis of recognition on the failure of evangelisation and on Christianity as a Western important. Then, we shoot ourselves in our foot because we think we’ve adopted a “western” way and thus we are less of an Asian.

The point is China could have been Christianised if Christians hadn’t fought amongst themselves. The Controversies of the Chinese Rite arose precisely because of Catholic infighting. It does give credence that our crisis is because Christ is not clearly visible in our lives. You may say we had Mother Teresa who is well-recognised in Asia. But, she was one of so few Christians. The fact is, we should discount Mother Teresa because she was truly a Western importation since she hailed from Albania. The presence of Mother Teresa is perhaps a great shame to us Asians who should be the first to show forth the light of Christ.

Let’s recognise our failure for what it is: the failure to live our profession visibly. Let us not blame it on Christianity as a Western importation. Otherwise, we would have perpetuated a misconception or worse, live the misconception. The First Reading is echoed in the Gospel. Land of Zebulun, Land of Napthali—the people that lived in darkness has seen a great light. We are so unremarkable that Asia does not see our light—the light of Christ. So, Gandhi was right to say, “I believe in Christ but I don’t believe in Christianity”. But, the blame is not on Christianity. The shame is upon us Asians. We have failed our home-grown Christ. We have failed to be Christ. We have dimmed his light.