2nd Sunday of Lent Year C The Transfiguration

There was a woman who was cheated of her huge inheritance. She fought hard to regain what was unjustly snatched from her. The legal litigation took years but finally she won. Sadly, it was a pyrrhic victory for she died soon after she won. In the end, nothing of her massive inheritance was useful to her.

This is not a story to stop people on the pathway toward justice. While it may suggest the futility of their struggles for material compensation, the point is that, if one has a case, one should go for it because it is a right and a just course of action. For example, if you were scammed, you should seek restitution. The story about the woman who died after she won may help us appreciate our history beyond this temporal existence.

Each person has a history and that history does not end when we breathe our last.

In the Gospel today, Jesus ascended Tabor and there in the midst of His sleeping disciples, He is transformed. The Transfiguration opens up a window providing a glimpse beyond the present realities of life. Somehow, our vision can be myopic that at times we are unable to discern the bigger picture. The analogy is a camera lens focussing on a painting or picture too closely that all the details are blurred out. The larger canvas of the Transfiguration is that it is closely associated with the Passion in the Garden. They both belong to the bigger picture and are connected one to the other.

If a coin has two sides, then the Transfiguration is actually the other side of Gethsemane. There is almost a perfect symmetry between them but some may find it hard to recognise that. Both took place on top of a mountain. Tabor for the Transfiguration. Mount Olives for the Agony in Gethsemane. He was transfigured on one but He was somewhat disfigured on the other as He sweated of blood. One highlighted His Divinity whereas and the other showcased His humanity.

There should not be any problem for Peter to be warned by the Lord of His impending Passion. Yet, Peter was unable to digest it. He was not able to see how Christ’s Transfiguration was a preparation for the Passion. All Peter knew about the Passion was the Disfigurement of Christ and that was unacceptable to him. His vision for Christ was a “transfiguration” which mirrors an earthly victory.

The exchange between Jesus and the other two prophets emphasises the change that Jesus would accomplish. He was about to effect the Exodus, the salvation that would come via His Passion and Cross in Jerusalem. Humanity would be saved by His suffering and the Transfiguration is a foretaste. When Moses led the Israelites, they left Egypt for the Promised Land. For Jesus, the Promised Land will no longer be a place but an exalted state of being. We will be saved and His dazzlingly white Body is a promise of the fate that is ours.

St Paul in the 2nd Reading spoke of mimesis. It is the Greek word for our English “mimicry”. Imitate me. Why? He had imitated Christ and thus the Philippians were supposed to imitate Paul for he has shown the way to live the Transfiguration. He reminds us that our homeland is not here on earth. Our homeland is the eternal one in heaven. This makes sense of the story of the woman who regained her inheritance only to discover that she could bring nothing with her into the eternal homeland.

If at all, the only possibility for us is to work for the treasures that neither rust nor rot. This is not in any way a counsel to ignore life temporal but to have an attitude of planting our feet, one here and the other in heaven. However, between here and heaven, Jesus taught: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him take up his cross and follow me”. Peter struggled to accept that the path to Tabor passes necessarily through Golgotha. Only later did Peter come to know that Calvary was not the final stop for Jesus.

What Calvary does is to change us. It tempers our body for the life that we are all called to. The change we can appreciate is that both the phenomena of the Transfiguration and the Passion point us in the direction of the Resurrection. “For us, our homeland is in heaven, and from heaven comes the Saviour we are waiting for, the Lord Jesus Christ, and He will transfigure these wretched bodies of ours into copies of His glorious body. He will do that by the same power with which He can subdue the whole universe”.

The promise of the Resurrection gives us a footing to stand firm in Christ. However, when faced with trials, we cave in to despair. When we feel that road we have taken leads nowhere, we are broken. But the voice that reached out to the Disciples is the assurance we need. “Listen to Him”. He who has travelled the rocky road grants us the guarantee that when we follow Him to Calvary, we will not end in defeat but victory.

The grace we desire is that momentary glimpse into a future of possibilities. It is a glance into eternity which we sorely need especially when we feel as if the weight of the world is on our shoulders and we are unable to cope. At time, it is in a situation between life and death that we catch a glimpse of eternity. These are the near-death experiences that grant a person the realisation of the futility of life and all its attendant achievements. “What gains a man the whole day but loses his soul”. Furthermore, Jesus went up the mountain to pray. The height grants Him a perspective. Essentially, it is through prayer that one catches the fleeting shadow of God’s presence. Every Thursday the Cathedral provides the opportunity to encounter the Lord through silent Adoration. Sometimes, a retreat too. Or maybe a pilgrimage or a talk that one attends. All these are basically experiences that might allow us to catch God at work. Thankfully, we are one of the pilgrim’s centres. It gives us the possibility to encounter Christ during this year of hope. As we continue with our Lenten journey, may we experience many transfiguring events to strengthen our hope and to grant us the confidence for the life to come and the longing to reach heaven.2nd Sunday of Lent Year C The Transfiguration.

There was a woman who was cheated of her huge inheritance. She fought hard to regain what was unjustly snatched from her. The legal litigation took years but finally she won. Sadly, it was a pyrrhic victory for she died soon after she won. In the end, nothing of her massive inheritance was useful to her.

This is not a story to stop people on the pathway toward justice. While it may suggest the futility of their struggles for material compensation, the point is that, if one has a case, one should go for it because it is a right and a just course of action. For example, if you were scammed, you should seek restitution. The story about the woman who died after she won may help us appreciate our history beyond this temporal existence.

Each person has a history and that history does not end when we breathe our last.

In the Gospel today, Jesus ascended Tabor and there in the midst of His sleeping disciples, He is transformed. The Transfiguration opens up a window providing a glimpse beyond the present realities of life. Somehow, our vision can be myopic that at times we are unable to discern the bigger picture. The analogy is a camera lens focussing on a painting or picture too closely that all the details are blurred out. The larger canvas of the Transfiguration is that it is closely associated with the Passion in the Garden. They both belong to the bigger picture and are connected one to the other.

If a coin has two sides, then the Transfiguration is actually the other side of Gethsemane. There is almost a perfect symmetry between them but some may find it hard to recognise that. Both took place on top of a mountain. Tabor for the Transfiguration. Mount Olives for the Agony in Gethsemane. He was transfigured on one but He was somewhat disfigured on the other as He sweated of blood. One highlighted His Divinity whereas and the other showcased His humanity.

There should not be any problem for Peter to be warned by the Lord of His impending Passion. Yet, Peter was unable to digest it. He was not able to see how Christ’s Transfiguration was a preparation for the Passion. All Peter knew about the Passion was the Disfigurement of Christ and that was unacceptable to him. His vision for Christ was a “transfiguration” which mirrors an earthly victory.

The exchange between Jesus and the other two prophets emphasises the change that Jesus would accomplish. He was about to effect the Exodus, the salvation that would come via His Passion and Cross in Jerusalem. Humanity would be saved by His suffering and the Transfiguration is a foretaste. When Moses led the Israelites, they left Egypt for the Promised Land. For Jesus, the Promised Land will no longer be a place but an exalted state of being. We will be saved and His dazzlingly white Body is a promise of the fate that is ours.

St Paul in the 2nd Reading spoke of mimesis. It is the Greek word for our English “mimicry”. Imitate me. Why? He had imitated Christ and thus the Philippians were supposed to imitate Paul for he has shown the way to live the Transfiguration. He reminds us that our homeland is not here on earth. Our homeland is the eternal one in heaven. This makes sense of the story of the woman who regained her inheritance only to discover that she could bring nothing with her into the eternal homeland.

If at all, the only possibility for us is to work for the treasures that neither rust nor rot. This is not in any way a counsel to ignore life temporal but to have an attitude of planting our feet, one here and the other in heaven. However, between here and heaven, Jesus taught: “If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let him take up his cross and follow me”. Peter struggled to accept that the path to Tabor passes necessarily through Golgotha. Only later did Peter come to know that Calvary was not the final stop for Jesus.

What Calvary does is to change us. It tempers our body for the life that we are all called to. The change we can appreciate is that both the phenomena of the Transfiguration and the Passion point us in the direction of the Resurrection. “For us, our homeland is in heaven, and from heaven comes the Saviour we are waiting for, the Lord Jesus Christ, and He will transfigure these wretched bodies of ours into copies of His glorious body. He will do that by the same power with which He can subdue the whole universe”.

The promise of the Resurrection gives us a footing to stand firm in Christ. However, when faced with trials, we cave in to despair. When we feel that road we have taken leads nowhere, we are broken. But the voice that reached out to the Disciples is the assurance we need. “Listen to Him”. He who has travelled the rocky road grants us the guarantee that when we follow Him to Calvary, we will not end in defeat but victory.

The grace we desire is that momentary glimpse into a future of possibilities. It is a glance into eternity which we sorely need especially when we feel as if the weight of the world is on our shoulders and we are unable to cope. At time, it is in a situation between life and death that we catch a glimpse of eternity. These are the near-death experiences that grant a person the realisation of the futility of life and all its attendant achievements. “What gains a man the whole day but loses his soul”.

Furthermore, Jesus went up the mountain to pray. The height grants Him a perspective. Essentially, it is through prayer that one catches the fleeting shadow of God’s presence. Every Thursday the Cathedral provides the opportunity to encounter the Lord through silent Adoration. Sometimes, a retreat too. Or maybe a pilgrimage or a talk that one attends. All these are basically experiences that might allow us to catch God at work. Thankfully, we are one of the pilgrim’s centres. It gives us the possibility to encounter Christ during this year of hope. As we continue with our Lenten journey, may we experience many transfiguring events to strengthen our hope and to grant us the confidence for the life to come and the longing to reach heaven.

2nd Sunday of Lent Year A 2023

We ended last Sunday with an appreciation that there is a cosmic battle in which the human heart is truly a theatre of combat. Christ overcoming temptation gives us hope that with His grace we too can prevail. This Sunday unfolds with another theophany of Christ with His transfiguration on Mount Tabor.

The event provides an opportunity to clarify or to revise what the idea of heaven is.

There are two stories happening at the same time when we speak of The Transfiguration. The familiar one revolves around Peter, James and John. They are brought up the mountain where they witness Jesus changing before their very eyes. Peter especially is mesmerised by this spectacular transformation that he wishes to remain there to construct altars dedicated to Elijah, Moses and Jesus.

The other scene is quite earthy. Jesus refuses to remain atop the mountain. He descends and at the foot of Tabor, the others disciples face an unbelieving crowd disappointed that they cannot perform the same miracle as Jesus who had driven demons out from those possessed. The situation is more chaotic than it is controlled.

Between Peter’s desire to stay at the summit of Tabor and Jesus’ encounter with the disappointed crowed, we can tease out what idea of heaven that some people hold.

Firstly, apart from the mistaken notion that everyone has been immaculately conceived, meaning, it is generally assumed that everyone is innocent because everyone is born good, what has happened is that we may have also settled for an idea of an “earthly” heaven, founded upon this world.

How so?

Recently Roald Dahl (BFG or Fantastic Mr Fox) had his books (Matilda, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) rewritten by his publisher because certain phrases that he had used in the past are now deemed unacceptable as they no longer meet the standards of inclusion, diversity and accessibility. Therefore they have to be rephrased. James Bond too has had a “sensitivity review” to remove racially offensive language and stereotyping.

This development is more evident in the last couple of years as illuminati have had to reach back into history to rewrite or to whitewash parts of our past in order to present a more perfect present in consonant with whichever prevailing political, cultural or social winds are blowing. We are uncomfortable with words or with thoughts currently regarded as unacceptable. It is a type of terra-forming if you like, a kind “heavenising” of our earthly reality as if whitewashing history will magically transform the present into heaven.

In this regard, Jesus’ refusal to remain atop the mountain is important. He resolutely descended because He has informed the Apostles that the destiny of the Son of Man was to suffer at the hands of evil men. His action is a stark reminder that heaven cannot be what we make of it here. We can never create heaven here. Instead heaven is glimpsed through the Transfiguration.

The Son of God in His bedazzling glory has shown us that His divinity is not incompatible with human suffering. This flies in the face of how we have been trying to construct heaven here on earth. It is not a new development. The Tower of Babel represented man’s futile attempt at this enterprise. The same with Socialism a 100 years ago. The Transfiguration challenges the way we conceive of imperfection here on earth.

In the whole process of trying to make heaven here on earth, we have unwittingly embarked upon the process of denying a central truth of our existence. The most painful blemish of temporal reality is death. The outer wrapping of death is suffering. Since death is inevitable, so too will suffering be. For example, euthanasia even though it is called “good death” as translated literally from Greek is actually a denial of suffering and death. The fear of death is that great that some attempt to escape, thinking that by snuffing out life early, they would have escaped the imperfection of our earthly existence. It is a futile attempt to capture heaven through the preservation of youthfulness.

As a result, the word “suffering” sounds agonising and forbidding. It is a fact which we struggle to avoid at all costs. It is important to note that suffering should not be intended for itself, meaning that no one should want to suffer or even desire to suffer. A person who enjoys suffering is disordered. An example is BIID or body integrity identity disorder. A person with this disorder feels that to be healthy, he or she needs to cut off some parts of the body. It is a form of mental illness. Whereas suffering as a natural process happens when cells age and die.

How do we acknowledge this reality of natural suffering as part of our journey in life? Furthermore, how do we reconcile that there are also other forms of suffering which through no fault of ours have landed on our plates? The case of Christ is clear. He would suffer because of man’s sins and not just because of Judas’ betrayal. This was His firm message to the Apostles as He joined them at the foot of Tabor. Divine and sinless, yet He is not preserved from suffering.

The innocent suffering of Christ makes the Transfiguration even more powerful in the sense that we catch a glimpse of heaven, the true heaven and not the one which we intend to establish here. The Transfiguration is an assurance that we will get to that heaven which God has intended for us and in Jesus coming down Tabor, The Transfiguration also reminds us that this pilgrimage to heaven takes us right through the valley of death.

In short, the forthcoming Passion is Christ’s endeavour to humanise our dying so that we may not be afraid of passing through mortality in order to reach the glory of heaven. At the same time, we will be tempted to think that our destiny is a perfect world here on earth, where problems and pain, sickness and suffering, disease and death are banished. That is not our future, no matter how perfect it is. The Transfiguration is a promise as it reveals where our true destiny lies. Our glory is with Jesus Christ in heaven.

2nd Sunday of Lent Year C 2022

From the Temptation we trek up Tabor for the Transfiguration. Last week, we accompanied Jesus in the desert and in so doing, signalled our desire to follow Him in repudiating Satan and the glamoured promised by evil. Today’s event is a watershed moment that took place on the journey of Jesus to Jerusalem. Along the way Jesus and His entourage ascended Tabor. However, the background prior to this mountain experience is central to what happened at the summit. If we follow Luke’s account, echoing the Prophet Isaiah, Jesus, setting His face like flint, resolutely made His way for Jerusalem. Along this peregrination Jesus queried the Disciples on His identity. “Who do you say that I am?”.

In a way, Peter’s Confession confirmed the mission of the Messiah but it also set the template for discipleship that must include an ascent to Calvary. Jesus spelt out for them in no uncertain terms that the Messiah was destined to be rejected, to suffer grievously at the hands of evil men, to be killed and then to rise on the third day. On Tabor, the faith of Peter was endorsed by the brilliant emanation from the Person of Jesus and authenticated by the Voice that came from the cloud.

However, Peter only got it partly correct.

For the Jews, the departures of both Elijah and Moses’ were shrouded in mystery. The former was gloriously assumed whereas the latter’s tomb has never been located. What united these prophetic figures was a supposition that they would return in time for the Messiah to usher in the Kingdom of God. On Tabor, Peter was transfixed by both by the appearances of Moses and Elijah conversing with Jesus that he failed to grasp the full implication of the transfiguration. Firstly, it is a foretaste of a future brought about by the sacrifice of Calvary. Secondly, it is a glory that can only be sustained by eternity[1]. Thus, Peter was blind-sided believing that this glory could be captured in its totality through the earthly expressions of altars on the mountain.[2]

Like Peter, many of us cannot appreciate that in Christ, glory has to be paid for by the Cross and that the Transfiguration is merely a preview of the triumph to come. The mountain experience of the Peter, James and John was meant to prepare them for what awaited them in eternity and no Calvary can ever obscure the glory that will come with the Resurrection. At Golgotha, God’s salvation for us will consist in the apparent destruction of God-for-us (Emmanuel). This is the part which does not make sense to so many of us and as St Paul says so, the Cross is foolishness indeed.

We have a natural affinity for happiness and more so in the last 50 years under the aegis of an ethos that celebrates the self,[3] we are more inclined to embrace a theology of the Resurrection which is emptied of its content. Note that Jesus was emphatic in pointing out that suffering would be a part of His glorification. The mystery of the Transfiguration contains both a promise and also a fulfilment. A promise that tribulation will be ours but it will never overwhelm us to the point that we are lost. It is also a fulfilment because at the end we will prevail in the Lord.

This is confirmed by the Voice that thundered from the cloud, “This is my Beloved Son. Listen to Him.” It endorses what Jesus Himself pointed out: “Whosoever wishes to follow Me must take up the Cross”. St Paul in the 2nd Reading paints a perfect portrait of what awaits us when we stand firm and keep close to Christ—He will transform our lowly bodies to be like His glorious Body. The Transfiguration promises that eternal triumph will be ours if we stand firm.

If both the Cross and Resurrection are two sides of a same coin, how then do we integrate the Cross into our lives? In accepting the Resurrection, how do we not lose sight that there is a Calvary to climb?

Firstly, we simply acknowledge that we are expert at avoiding the Cross at all costs. It is natural to flinch from it. Christ Himself hesitated at Gethsemane. “Father, if you can, remove this cup from me”. There is a difference though. His reaction to the silence of God was not resentment. He merely accepted it as God’s will to be embraced. How often have we been annoyed with God for not bending to our will?

Secondly, we may have tamed the Cross by reducing it to an ornament, either as personal jewellery or wall decoration. It is basically a pointless reminder at best or a talisman at worst. How many of us are conscious that there is a Cross attached to the Rosary that is hanging from the car’s rear-view mirror? Or mindless, we easily curse at another driver for his or her inconsideration?

Thirdly, the Cross is the price of love. We point to the love of God and we preach His mercy. All sounds good and inviting that God loves us. But we forget that Jesus hung on the Cross out of love for us. “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world” should be “You take away MY sins, have mercy on ME”. The Cross is both the cost of "My" sin and the price of love for "Me". St Paul preached Christ crucified to hammer the point that God paid the price of our sin by sacrificing His Son.

Fourthly, we be mindful of the reality of sin. Lent makes no sense if we do not recognise the role of sin in our lives. Otherwise, whatever is penitential in this season would merely be cosmetic[4]. We may better figure out the meaning of the “transfiguration” if we contrast it with a related word: “disfigurement”. Sin disfigures the soul and separates us from God. The climb to Tabor which culminates in the “transfiguration” is an invitation to the conversion of hearts—to truly turn away from sin.

Finally, the Cross comes in many shapes and sizes. Even to fast from sinning itself will be a Cross to bear. Whatever form it takes, be it grief, sickness or even death, the Cross is not God’s condemnation but a symbol of both justice and mercy. Justice because we have sinned. Mercy because we have been ransomed and redeemed by no less than the Son of God. In summary, the Resurrection would not be complete if the Cross were not a part of it. Without the Cross, the Resurrection is meaningless, a hollow victory at best. The Cross may feel foolish for many. Nevertheless, it is fertile soil for Christian hope to spring forth and necessary for us as we make the pilgrimage from sorrow to solace, from Calvary to the empty tomb, from death to eternal life.


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[1] When Mary Magdalene wanted to embrace the post-resurrection Jesus, He alluded to this mystery that a glorified body essentially cannot be captured by earthly realities anymore.

[2] That which is of eternity can only be approximated here in earth.

[3] What was once sin has now been reclassified as sickness. For example, alcoholism or sexual obsession are now treated as diseases and not moral failings. When our worship shifts from God to the self, what follows will not be reason but feelings.

[4] For example, fasting for what? Better figure?

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.

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[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!!

The Transfiguration Year A 2017

Maryland, founded in the early 17th century and named after the French consort of Charles I--Henrietta Maria, is considered to be the birthplace of religious freedom in America as it was intended as a refuge for persecuted Catholics of England. 1829 is generally taken to be the chief moment marking the emancipation of Catholics in both the UK and Ireland. In 1955, Rosa Park, in defying the order to give up her seat to a "white" person, inaugurated the modern civil rights movement.

The founding of a state, the Act of Parliament granting freedom of worship and the civil rights movement are just a few examples representing the exciting breakthrough in the evolution of freedom. And, they might just help us appreciate better the feast of the Transfiguration.

Firstly, what is the Transfiguration? As a theological event, it is regarded as a turning point in the ministry of Jesus. Just before ascending Mount Tabor, Peter had confessed the Messiahship of Jesus and that He is the son of the living God. On the mountain, it culminates in an experience which according to Matthew parallels the revelation on Mount Sinai. Moses representing the Law and Elijah standing for the prophets both had ascended Mount Sinai/Horeb to consort with God. Now here they are again on a mountain speaking to the God-made-man, thereby confirming the confession of Peter that the Messiah is indeed Jesus and foretelling His impending Passion. From Matthew's perspective, the Transfiguration fulfils the Old Testament longing for the Messiah.

Within this theological narrative, Matthew proceeds to describe the Transfiguration in vivid details--His face shone and His clothes became as white as the light. The question is, what exactly did the Apostles experience? The truth is that we inhabit a demythologised world where magic and fantasy have more credibility than any miracles connected with Jesus. The demythologisation of scripture means that Jesus did not rise from the dead. An explanation for the resurrection is that He rose in the hearts of people. The multiplication of loaves nothing more than a persuasion of the crowd to share their food with each other. Or, the Transubstantiation is not a change in objective reality but rather it symbolises a change in subjective appreciation, hence Transignification. Seen in this context of a demythologised world, the Transfiguration was not really an experience of the supernatural. It might just be one of those interior experiences of the Apostles much akin to what we call mass hysteria, group hallucination or auto-suggestion.

The point here is not to desacralise the experience but rather to read the Transfiguration as more than an event that confirms the confession of Peter or portends Christ's coming Passion. The transformed body of Jesus is a foretaste of and also an anticipation of our appearance in glory. Eucharistic Prayer III reminds us that "from the earth, He will raise up in the flesh those who have died and transform our lowly bodies after the pattern of His glorious body".

This supernatural event allows us to appreciate better the notion of liberation. Earlier on, I enumerated the founding of a state, the emancipation from restrictions placed on religious belief and the genesis of the modern civil rights movement. It would appear that progress is an inexorable march to greater freedom. But, what is liberation for? If the Transfiguration is the model for this liberating progress, then liberation is freedom from the tyranny of sin. However, when framed in the glossary of the pursuit of happiness[1], life and liberty etc, the focus shifts to an almost economic expression and it is concretised through the language of choice—the choice to pursue the best possible way to happiness. However, note that the liberation envisaged by the framers of the Constitution for the 13 Colonies takes its reference from who we are--that we have been created in the image and likeness of God and therefore we possess inalienable rights. Thus, it makes sense that caste, creed or colour should not determine how one is treated.

Whereas for now, the notion of liberation has taken its inspiration not from the movement from sin to grace, that is, from who we are to who we are supposed to be. Instead, its inspiration is firmly grounded in who we want to be. We "should be free" to create ourselves according to our image and likeness and even God is to be shaped according to our fads and fancies. Sadly, this self-referential genius is aided by an increasing technicalisation of life. Now, at the push of a button we are able to "solve" all problems. This process has contributed to the distancing of the notion of freedom from sin meaning that freedom is no longer anchor on the notions of good and right. Instead, all that matters is that “solution” and not salvation has become the goal of human existence. This is confirmed by the proliferation of pharmacies. The ubiquity of this institution of cures is also indicative of the therapeutic culture we have become. In therapy, we are concerned with cures (read: solution) and thus liberation is a form of cure in which we are freed from sickness rather than from sin. God is no longer necessary for our salvation. We are our own saviour with a result that we seldom think of freedom as freedom from sin.

The idea of liberation, that is, the process of moving towards greater freedom, is important. But, this freedom which we prize so much must find its goal in the salvation that is brought about by the Lord. A desire for this salvation would require a disengagement from sin so as to fulfil what the Preface suggests: He, in revealing His glory, might show how in the Body of the whole Church is to be fulfilled what so wonderfully shone forth first in its Head.

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[1] The idea that freedom is for the pursuit of happiness is never absolute. Happiness is but a foretaste of heaven. But, in a demythologised world, where heaven is situated on earth, then freedom is unhinged from its celestial mooring. Everyone should be free to do anything and everything. Take a look at the expanding phenomenon of the gated community. The strength of our security is not augmented by the ghettoisation of our security meaning that we are not better protected by the increased in armed security. Gatedness is a false indication of security. The British Bobbies no carry guns and why is that so? The British recognise that violence against an officer of the law is taboo. Taboo whose function is to protect society (and sadly sometimes to preserve the status quo as well), in a demythologised culture, is now considered to be a crimp on style, meaning that, taboo upsets the exercise of choice and the freedom to be. But, taboos play a role in directing freedom to its original intention which is to enable Man to be who he is supposed to be.

2nd Sunday of Lent Year A

What is the significance of the Transfiguration? First of all it was an event of captivating beauty. It took place on a mountain. The mountains are places of God’s particular closeness. And Jesus often finds himself on different mountains. For example, earlier in Matthew’s Gospel, one of the defining moments is the Sermon on the Mount. There, on the mountain, Jesus the new Moses dispenses the law of the New Covenant. Last Sunday, in the Temptation, Jesus is also brought to a mountain by the Devil. It helps us appreciate that God is not far from Christ (and also therefore from us who are) struggling with temptation. In the background of the various mountain experiences of Jesus, we hear the echoes of the OT revelations at Sinai, Horeb and Moriah.

Today, Mount Tabor, another mountain, is also the place where our profession of faith comes alive. In the gospel, his face shone like the sun and his clothes became white as light. Can you hear the echo of or at least appreciate the profession of our faith: Jesus in his communion with the Father reveals to us that He is God from God, light from light, true God from true God. Unlike Moses whose face shone with light received from his encounter with God, the light of Jesus shines out from within him.

Secondly, from the Temptation to Tabor, we can also discern an intensification of the process of initiation for those who are searching for the Way, the Truth and the Life and for those who are baptised, there is a deepening of discipleship. The white garment of Jesus’ transfiguration should be seen through the Book of Revelation. John the Evangelist speaks of the garments of the Elect that have become white because they have been washed in the blood of the Lamb (Rev 7:14). Through baptism, the Elect are united with Jesus’ Passion. His Passion is the purification that restores to the baptised the original garment lost through sin. The transfiguration shows us what will happen or what happens to those who seek baptism and those who are baptised—we are clothed with Jesus in light and we ourselves become light.

In that sense, the Transfiguration cannot be a once-off event. The little drop of water at the preparation of the gift reminds us of that. “By the mystery of this water and wine, may we come to share in the divinity of Christ who humbled himself to share in our humanity”.

It has life-changing significance. It prods us to ask where God is leading us like He led Abram. In that, the symbol of the mountain is appropriate. The ascent, the going up the mountain symbolises the breaking free from the ordinariness of life. If we follow Jesus up the mountain then we will certainly encounter a God who speaks life-changing or life-liberating words to us. Even as we stand in awe at the revelation of the beauty and magnificence of the Divine Son of God, we are stopped in our track by a God whose Word challenges to make life-changing decisions. There is a lot at stake for so many of us. We can choose to merely exist. We go to the supermarket, watch movies, drink at pubs, marvel at the places of interest of our sight-seeing. In short, we busy ourselves with life. But, unfortunately, the busyness of life often has the unintended consequence of shielding us from hearing God.

If we do not merely exist, Lent can become the mountain where we live by choosing to hear the voice of the God who called Abram; even if it seems incomprehensible; even if it involves suffering according to St Paul in the 2nd Reading. And because it is life-changing, the Transfiguration is not a “wham and bang” event but is experienced as a gradual change of our loves and desires into the holiness of God. It means that slowly, my time, my energy, my work, my rest, my meetings—every single action of mine begins to radiate the brightness of the Light of Christ. That is why we make special attempts at fasting, praying and almsgiving because these practices of self-denial help in the process of changing so that little by little the splendour of the Father becomes more visible to the world. But, it must begin like Abram who chose to follow the will of God. Slowly and steadily we say yes. We may fall but we get up. Never losing hope but allowing God the greater freedom to change our lives. Let us ask for the grace as we progress further into the heart of Lent.