33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year C 2019

A few of you might be upset if this Cathedral were to be destroyed. I suspect that the disquiet or distress might arise not from a loss of aesthetics but rather from a loss of familiarity. Many of us are creatures of habit. Wittingly or unwittingly, the older we are, the more we tend to canonise the status quo. So ugly or otherwise, this structure is meaningful to some of us. We are at home here. Thus, to flippantly declare that this building is fit for demolition might create anxiety amongst parishioners.

If the destruction of a hideous building such as this could evoke that angst of disquiet, you can imagine how much more the Temple in Jerusalem. It was an awesome edifice, as Jesus Himself acknowledged, one that had taken more than 25 years to build. As He prophesied the destruction of such a magnificent building, the dismay was palpable.

But mayhem was not His point.

The point the Lord was trying to make was how one ought to be ready or to be prepared. As next Sunday is Christ the King, today marks the penultimate Sunday in Ordinary Time. And the readings have so far reflected a concern with the Last Things. One knows that he is approaching the end of the liturgical year because the tone is both eschatological as well as apocalyptical. Eschaton deals with the end of time. When the end is associated with tumultuous events, what provides hope is the apocalyptic tone of the readings. For example, the Gospel encourages those who are persecuted to hold on or to hang on because God will come, as the Responsorial Psalm indicates, to rule the peoples with fairness.

We span the era between the Ascension and the Second Coming. St Paul’s preaching to the Thessalonians consists of how our preparation is supposed to look like. Hard work built on an orderly life—in other words, live a life of virtue. In that way, the end of time will not be a time of ending but rather a stepping-stone to a new beginning. It means that when it comes, we should not be flailing about but rather be ready for it.

Being ready requires that we stand in the light and not hide in the shadow. It is better to live a good life rather than have a good life so that we will not be dragged into death clinging to whatever we have. Instead, we dare walk into death leaving behind all we have in order to appreciate the new life we are called to.

Yet, no one knows when that moment will come. During the reign of Pope Sylvester II, he predicted the end to be at the turn of the first millennium. As you can guess, rioting took place as people were afraid. As recent as 2009, the movie 2012 depicted the calamitous ending of the world with humanity struggling to preserve the good that remains of human civilisation. Nobody can forecast the end, not even our climate change predictions of choking air and rising flood can point to the exact time. This obsession with exactitude may just miss the point that the end will come most likely for each one of us individually before all of us collectively. Sometimes all it takes is to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. A lorry sideswipes your car onto the oncoming traffic and the timber trailer rams head-on into your car and everyone is dead in a split of a second.

If anything can happen, it begs the question if one is ready for anything. This readiness is not preventive as in be careful and be attentive so that you can pre-empt it before it happens. Instead, are you ready to give an account of your life before the Lord? This end time is not meant to scare us but instead to prompt to not neglect that which is most important—the salvation of our souls.

There are three words to consider when reflecting about the end time and our salvation. They are eutopia, utopia and dystopia. First eutopia is what we yearn for, that is, a good place or if you like, a good space to be in. Sadly though, eutopia is utopian in the sense that it does not exist. When St Thomas More penned his political satire, the title of his work was “Utopia” which translated literally meant “nowhere” indicating that “topia” or the place is nothing but a figment of one’s imagination. However, thinking of end-time, what is disturbing is how dystopian our vision of the end is. Our cinematic landscape is tarred with this dystopian future as it taps into our sense of doom, gloom and tomb. Zombieland and Terminator: Dark Fate are two good examples of such a hopeless outlook. It does not inspire but it definitely bogs us down. Salvation is next to useless in such a bleak and tattered future.

Truth is, there is no time in recorded human history which is not marked by trials and tribulations. The sooner we appreciate that troubles are mankind’s lot, the more prepared we might be. The description of the end, even though filled with eschatological trepidation, it is not meant to lead us into dystopian despair. Furthermore, prophecy does not make sense if there is no viable future. It only makes us stop living. If we stop living, even if we are breathing, we are as good as dead. However, when the future is filled with the infinite possibility of God’s presence, prophecy is salvific and redemptive.

We need not wait for a turn of the century for catastrophes or calamities to strike us. We always have them with us. Hence, what we need is not despair but hope. As creation groans and longs for its salvation, we place our hope that God will save us. Whilst the eschaton may be fear provoking, the apocalypse is definitely hope evoking. We should not be afraid as the Gospel suggests but instead trust that the Lord will come to our assistance, even if we are weighed down by the turmoil of our time. As we inch toward the Kingship of Christ, we trust Him that not a hair of our head will be lost. Without hope, we cannot endure. Only endurance can win us our lives. As God is trustworthy, the end of time is always an occasion of hope. Let us bless the Lord.

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

Last Sunday, I spoke of the internal disposition of a heart preparing for eternal life. This week, the Gospel illustrates, concretely through the parable of the talents, how this preparation may be lived out.

With this in mind, I would like to approach the Gospel not so much from the perspective of how we can use the talents but to understand what our response should be when we draw the short straw—like the man who got only one talent. How do we deal with 1 talent?

Our consumer world markets a vision of life whereby the pot is always depicted as brimming and overflowing. In short, we deserve more than 1 talent. So if you do not have it all, you can attain it. It is a false vision of life where utopia is not really utopian at all. St Thomas More, in his book, Utopia described this island in the Atlantic that possesses the perfect socio-politico-legal system. The operative phrase is “an island somewhere in the Atlantic” denoting that it is not real or better put, it remains a goal always one step ahead. It would, therefore, be an illusion to believe that utopia is achievable here on earth. This is confirmed by the etymology of the word itself, which in Greek means “not the place”.

Nevertheless, our consumer world continues to push an idea that life must be nothing but pleasant and suffering must disappear. And by no means is this utopian vision restricted to the consumer world. In fact, every aspect of modern life is gripped by a philosophy that man has the right and duty to construct a new world based on a rational foundation. Take note that rationality here is understood narrowly to be governed by functionality, efficiency and also the quality of life. [1] Sometimes, you hear the phrase “new world order” bandied about; a kind of mantra for a reality no less than heaven itself. This new world believes that the rational application of technology makes possible a world in which suffering and inequality can be wiped out. It is quite mechanical and deterministic and this kind of thinking is reflected in arguments like “You should know it what” as if knowing necessarily equates to doing. We know that is not really the case. Some of the most brilliant minds in history have also been the most evil. But, we constantly run into difficulty on account of this mechanistic, deterministic and linear thinking.

Anyway, in this utopian new world order, possibility becomes the determining criterion for the measure of how life is supposed to be shaped. As long as our technology can achieve it, then it is permissible. In this so-called heaven on earth, what is possible has been coalesced into what is permissible meaning that morality now is defined as it is permissible for man to do anything he is capable of.2 Now you can appreciate why the Church finds it increasingly difficult to argue, for example, against the use of in vitro fertilisation. In vitro fertilisation is not a new technology. But, in any discussions on the morality of life issues, the Church will always be depicted as the voice out of touch with progress.

Now listen to what Pope Benedict said in his first encyclical, “When we consider the immensity of others' needs, we can be driven towards an ideology that would aim at doing what God's governance of the world apparently cannot: fully resolving every problem”. Here the Pope may be cautioning us against a utopian attempt to fill the gap where apparently God has failed. Our technological prowess is really an indictment against a God who has failed miserably. For example, childlessness is an indication that God has failed and the cure can be any method that best secures conception. Recently, there was the media hype that the world was marking the birth of its 7th billion inhabitant? It was presented against a backdrop of unprecedented hunger in the world and that mankind was taking a toll on the resources of the world. The unspoken assumption was that God could not have provided enough for the world never mind the fact that hunger could have been the result of uneven distribution rather than of inadequate resources. Have you noticed how people often drink water from bottles and leave them half-full? Not even water or wasteful?

So, has God failed? No. Perhaps a more realistic vision of the world is that we can never realise utopia on earth and that is not because life is unfair. Even the most perfect life you can ever conceive of will be imperfect or flawed. If we banish all hatred or fill every stomach yet we know that that is not enough. Instinctively you know this. Why? Because we all have a part of heaven in us. Here, I am not advocating that we canonise the status quo by resignation. For example, I am not saying that women should accept that their husbands abuse them or vice versa. Nor am I suggesting passivism in accepting the injustice of racial or religious discrimination.

Many young people entering adulthood are also ensnared by a utopian vision that everything good has to be achieved in their lifetime. No wonder life is so stressful. And they may be unwittingly forced to subscribe to what is possible must be permitted because that is the only way to achieve utopia (perfect life) here. The parable of the talents highlights firstly that short straws are an existential given. It is a fact of life that God’s providence does not work according to our sense fairness. Secondly, we will never be able to achieve all that we want here in this world.

Thus, utopia is restored to its rightful place. For Christians, it belongs in the realm of the Eschaton. It means that what we hope to achieve may sometimes come only in the next life. So, if our idea of utopia is confined to this world, then our response in time would probably be cynicism or despair. If we accept that the world will always consist more of short straws than full pots, then it does not matter what we have been given. It matters how we use what we have for what needs to be done. We no longer gripe as if we have been dealt an injustice. Instead we set about doing what we can with what we have instead of thinking of what we can do with what we do not have. For us to achieve that Christian utopia, we need keep our eyes focused on Christ our Lord and we work with every bit of our being to make things right but keeping in mind also that what we do may never be enough. Yet we are at peace because we know and trust that Christ, in the end, will make right what we cannot in this world and He will reward us with what we cannot have in this world.

In conclusion, I am hesitant to say this. I have this lump on my neck. How I wish it would go away but sometimes I do not want to do anything not because I am despairing. Here, I am not advocating that those with cancer should do nothing about chemotherapy or those needing surgery should not consent to it. Rather, I am informed by the Eschaton that beyond what is considered proper and necessary care, I do not need to have a perfect body to enter heaven. I need a healthy soul and therefore my effort is to run the race for which I have entered. What is important is not what I have been given what is important is how I use what I have been given.

FOOTNOTES:
[1] The quality of life argument is often used to justify euthanasia. Apart from that, it may be used also to justify eugenics, the science improving life even from the womb.
[2] The philosophy that says if you do not have it you can attain it thrives in this new morality where what is possible becomes permissible. The collapse of the wall between what is possible and what is permissible now renders any means as permitted as long as it helps the impossible becomes possible. As long as what is possible is permitted, then, technology can be co-opted by people who cheat and scam in a massive way. Since our life is premised on what can be done, then all manners of living should be respected. We call it “alternative lifestyle”. But life should be premised not only on “it can be done” but also on “should it be done”. This means we enter the territory of morality and this is where we will be accused of being judgemental if we do not subscribe to all possibilities available.