We begin with the end. In Matthew 28: 20, in Galilee at the appointed mountain, the Evangelist concludes the Gospel with the promise of Jesus Himself that He would be with the Church until the end of time. Tonight, Matthew’s genealogy which meanders through characters and plots is truly a testament of God’s promise to be “Emmanuel”, that is, to be with us. Jesus fulfils the promise made to Israel and from Israel to the world.
As the night skies over Gaza light up with bombs and while the military strikes continue in Ukraine, we might ask ourselves how present God is to humanity when at the moment that Christ’s birth is celebrated, the world seems to be tethering on the brink of global annihilation.
In this moment of uncertainty and confusion, the Gospel today is our source of hope. When our tired and harassed spirits look for rest from the relentless struggles surrounding the world, we should contemplate the genealogy. It is through Joseph’s ancestry that we come to know that the Child, born of Mary, is the one who will save us from our sins. The list of names in Jesus’ ancestry reads like a litany sinners rather than a litany of saints. Through these colourful characters, the genealogy truly represents the history of a God who is forever the faithful Saviour. The messy imperfection reflected in the family tree is a strong reminder that we should never give up hope. Whatever struggles we have in our family’s past, with ourselves in our concrete present and in our encounters with the world, we can hold onto Christ.
In the context of hope as we cling onto our Lord, what the Vigil Mass teaches most is the value of praying. A vigil is a time of patient waiting for the Lord to make known His salvation. What is patient waiting if not prayer? It is not easy because we are used to a sort of mechanical and logical thinking. We expect life to behave like it is a well-oiled machine when in reality, life does not always obey logic. On the contrary, what the genealogy of Jesus has revealed is how unwieldy life can be. What makes life less tolerable or harder to bear is a confusion and an expectation that we have imported into our spiritual world.
As more of normal everyday existence is organised by artificial intelligence, we have come to expect that the concept of immediate result or instant solution can be applied to life. What we demand in life is exemplified by the electrical switch. Clap your hands and the light is turned on. Press a switch and the coffee is brewed. Turn on the tap and water flows out. The expectation of immediacy can actually deepen our anxiety or as the Teochews call it, “pek chek”. When solutions are not immediate, one is easily overwhelmed and afflicted by minor complications that one becomes depressed and gives up hope. We are readily affected by inconvenience. The proof is how we complain but most of all, how one simply stops praying. How many of us have given up praying because the solution is not immediate? Why pray when nothing seems to work?
We assume that life should follow a mechanical trajectory or that it should always be smooth sailing. More so when we pray. We have come to expect that God will bend to our will and things must turn out well. But Christ’s ancestral history reveals an important truth. Life is definitely messed up and nobody is born without a history. And crucially, when we find ourselves in such Prayers might not solve our problems because they do not guarantee solutions. Yet, no matter how dire a situation can be, darkness cannot overcome the Light. In fact, darkness has never overcome the Light. Considering the numerous flaws of the kings and leaders of Israel, what is crucial to note is that every single character is a milestone along the path of salvation. Each ancestor of Christ was a witness to the history of salvation—each one stood as a solid reminder that creation, since the beginning of time, has been waiting for the Saviour to come.
Indeed, our wait is coming to an end. The Vigil beckons us to place our trust in God who will keep His promise to us. What we need to do, and do constantly, is to keep praying as St Paul had counselled. If peace eludes or escapes the world, then it just means more prayers are needed for the cosmos to recognise, acknowledge and accept the Prince of Peace. However, we pray not only for answers but also for the patience to wait for God to reveal His salvation. In any situation which is difficult and tough, more prayers are needed, not less, for the clarity of God’s light to shine through.
The Vigil signals that the end is in sight. God’s love through the birth of the Saviour shows forth His great love for humanity. So, today, as we enter into the spirit of Christmas, we dare to rejoice because God is in charge. We are joyful because God will prevail. We are exultant in appreciation and joyful in praise because Christ, the true Holy Communion between God and humanity, is born tonight. We are happy because the God who is with us is also the God who saves us.
Showing posts with label Vigil. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Vigil. Show all posts
Saturday, 23 December 2023
Sunday, 30 December 2018
Vigil Mass of Christmas 2018
There are actually 1 plus 3 Masses between now and tomorrow afternoon and they are the Vigil of Christmas Eve followed by the Midnight, Dawn and Day Masses. Why so many liturgies? They harken back to the days of stational Masses where Pope and people used to process from one Church to another to celebrate the different liturgies. The Vigil Mass used to retain a little bit of the Advent penitential flavour but it no longer does. Today, the current practice continues with the Vigil Mass celebrated at St Mary Major, the Midnight Mass at the Altar of the Crib at St Mary Major, the Dawn Mass at the Church of St Anastasia and finally back to St Mary Major for the Mass of the Day. (It used to be in St Peter’s Basilica but due to the changing demographics and for safety reason it was moved to St Mary Major as it is located nearer to St John Lateran).
The liturgies also follow a pattern where at the Vigil Mass we savour the provenance of the Saviour by weaving through the thread of His genealogy. At midnight, Isaiah reminds us that the people who walked in darkness now has seen a great light. Darkness is banished by the appearance of the true Light. The shepherds in the Gospel who kept watch end up witnessing the angelic chorus breaking into the Gloria in excelsis Deo. The Mass at Dawn continues with the theme of light breaking into the world. The readings proclaim Him as the Saviour whilst the shepherds make their way to Bethlehem to visit the Holy Family. Finally, at the Mass of the Day the profundity of God’s mystery is captured by John’s Prologue: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God … and the Word became flesh”.
Here we are at the cusp of salvation and what does it mean that we enter into drama of the Saviour’s birth?
Firstly, the Gospel genealogy is a non-Hebrew speaker’s nightmare because some of the names are probably mispronounced by the deacon or the priest. It may be boring but no less interesting because the warp and woof of Jesus’ ancestry is nothing short of a display of sin. We have a cheater, Jacob, who cheated his brother Esau of his inheritance. We even have a child trafficker, Judah who sold his brother Joseph to some travelling tradesmen. An outcast, Tamar whose desperation for a child, resorted deception and making herself a prostitute tricked her father in law into an incestuous intercourse with her. The list goes on.
The history of sin is also the history of salvation for these names paved the path towards the long awaited climax who is none other than the Saviour of the world.
Sometimes we hear people speaking of Jesus as one’s personal Saviour. It is good to assert this but what is Jesus saving us from, a question which I will come back to later. For now, let us just say that this notion of a “personal” Saviour sounds rather selfish and may even border on a utilitarian relationship. Yes, I need Him to save me but there is a salvation which is just more than me. This bigger picture is the universality of salvation which the first reading alludes to. The justification of Zion extends beyond the people of Israel into the world. There is a salvation that is universal because the name Jesus which means the God who saves might further our rather myopic vision of a personal Saviour. He saves all, not just Christians.
God saves not just figuratively or metaphorically. He saves concretely in the sense that He saves in such a way that makes the Church a necessity for salvation. What does that mean? It means that the Church has to be there when Christ saves because it cannot be that the where the head is, the body is absent. Perhaps it makes sense why I said that the concept of a personal Saviour is rather utilitarian and that it borders on selfishness.
Pope Francis has a favourite metaphor to describe the Church. He says that the Church must be a field hospital tending to injured souls. There is a war not just out there but also in here for souls. However, if there is no sin, why the need for hospitals? Without the realisation that we are sinners and we have sinned, a personal Saviour makes no sense. The notion of a personal Saviour is linked to the recognition of concrete personal sins and not just a hazy notion of sinfulness. Without sins and the awareness that it destroys the soul, what is the Church for? The Church as field hospital tending to souls is no more than a spiritual spa whereby we who are sinless comes here to be affirmed. Just like the Publican who stands before God, we come to tell Him how great we are. Do you know that some people do come in to confess that they are sinless—there seems to be more than one Immaculate Conception.
This Mass is not a guilt trip even if it sounds like one. If the genealogy of Jesus has anything to say to us, it is that sin is the reason for His coming. Peppered throughout the Vigil’s liturgy is the word Saviour. If we have no sin, then His coming makes little if no sense at all. But, if we are here to celebrate the impending birth of Jesus our Saviour, the best welcome we can give Him is to be more conscious that He is coming to save us because we are sinners in need of salvation. The beautiful history of salvation is at the same time a tribute to grace of redemption. Come Lord Jesus for our souls. We need you, come Lord come.
The liturgies also follow a pattern where at the Vigil Mass we savour the provenance of the Saviour by weaving through the thread of His genealogy. At midnight, Isaiah reminds us that the people who walked in darkness now has seen a great light. Darkness is banished by the appearance of the true Light. The shepherds in the Gospel who kept watch end up witnessing the angelic chorus breaking into the Gloria in excelsis Deo. The Mass at Dawn continues with the theme of light breaking into the world. The readings proclaim Him as the Saviour whilst the shepherds make their way to Bethlehem to visit the Holy Family. Finally, at the Mass of the Day the profundity of God’s mystery is captured by John’s Prologue: "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was God … and the Word became flesh”.
Here we are at the cusp of salvation and what does it mean that we enter into drama of the Saviour’s birth?
Firstly, the Gospel genealogy is a non-Hebrew speaker’s nightmare because some of the names are probably mispronounced by the deacon or the priest. It may be boring but no less interesting because the warp and woof of Jesus’ ancestry is nothing short of a display of sin. We have a cheater, Jacob, who cheated his brother Esau of his inheritance. We even have a child trafficker, Judah who sold his brother Joseph to some travelling tradesmen. An outcast, Tamar whose desperation for a child, resorted deception and making herself a prostitute tricked her father in law into an incestuous intercourse with her. The list goes on.
The history of sin is also the history of salvation for these names paved the path towards the long awaited climax who is none other than the Saviour of the world.
Sometimes we hear people speaking of Jesus as one’s personal Saviour. It is good to assert this but what is Jesus saving us from, a question which I will come back to later. For now, let us just say that this notion of a “personal” Saviour sounds rather selfish and may even border on a utilitarian relationship. Yes, I need Him to save me but there is a salvation which is just more than me. This bigger picture is the universality of salvation which the first reading alludes to. The justification of Zion extends beyond the people of Israel into the world. There is a salvation that is universal because the name Jesus which means the God who saves might further our rather myopic vision of a personal Saviour. He saves all, not just Christians.
God saves not just figuratively or metaphorically. He saves concretely in the sense that He saves in such a way that makes the Church a necessity for salvation. What does that mean? It means that the Church has to be there when Christ saves because it cannot be that the where the head is, the body is absent. Perhaps it makes sense why I said that the concept of a personal Saviour is rather utilitarian and that it borders on selfishness.
Pope Francis has a favourite metaphor to describe the Church. He says that the Church must be a field hospital tending to injured souls. There is a war not just out there but also in here for souls. However, if there is no sin, why the need for hospitals? Without the realisation that we are sinners and we have sinned, a personal Saviour makes no sense. The notion of a personal Saviour is linked to the recognition of concrete personal sins and not just a hazy notion of sinfulness. Without sins and the awareness that it destroys the soul, what is the Church for? The Church as field hospital tending to souls is no more than a spiritual spa whereby we who are sinless comes here to be affirmed. Just like the Publican who stands before God, we come to tell Him how great we are. Do you know that some people do come in to confess that they are sinless—there seems to be more than one Immaculate Conception.
This Mass is not a guilt trip even if it sounds like one. If the genealogy of Jesus has anything to say to us, it is that sin is the reason for His coming. Peppered throughout the Vigil’s liturgy is the word Saviour. If we have no sin, then His coming makes little if no sense at all. But, if we are here to celebrate the impending birth of Jesus our Saviour, the best welcome we can give Him is to be more conscious that He is coming to save us because we are sinners in need of salvation. The beautiful history of salvation is at the same time a tribute to grace of redemption. Come Lord Jesus for our souls. We need you, come Lord come.
Saturday, 24 December 2011
Christmas Vigil Year B
I think the people with the best eyesight in the world are Filipinos,
well, rich Filipinos, at least. For security reasons, the windscreens and
windows of their cars are heavily tinted. I get extremely claustrophobic
sitting in one of these cars not knowing where I am or in which direction I am heading
to. Analogously, there is also a quality of uncertainty in all our Christmas liturgies
and it is perhaps strongest in this evening’s liturgy. There is a quality of
uncertainty that is associated with the injunction to “watch and pray”.
Uncertainty is quite a disturbing state of being especially to a
generation accustomed to pressing buttons. We have come to expect that life’s
solutions can be got from merely a push of a button. However, the vigil’s liturgy
is pretty much that of “uncertainty” as in “already and not yet”. If you like,
this is best captured by the caricature of children in a car asking
incessantly: “Are we there yet”.
How can one understand and describe this notion of "already and not yet"?
Listen to the Preface II for Advent.
For all the oracles of the prophets foretold Him, the Virgin Mother longed for
Him with love beyond all telling, John the Baptist sang of His coming and
proclaimed His presence when He came. It is by His gift that already we rejoice
at the mystery of His Nativity, so that He may find us watchful in prayer and
exultant it His praise.
An observation may be made here. This Mass is called the Vigil Mass. The
Latin vigilia, from which we derive the term "vigil", means to keep
watch. The Church designates the day before a feast or a solemnity as a Vigil
because its nature is to prepare for a greater day that is to follow. Through
the liturgy, this is one way the Church keeps close to the injunction of Her
Lord and Saviour to “keep watch and pray”. So, in some countries, today is also
a day of fasting. They fast to heighten the reception of the day that is to
come.
Thus, in this so-called interim period, there is a profound sense that
what we want is already here but not completely yet. It is by His gift that
already we rejoice and this is important. Why?
"Already and not" yet allows us to catch a glimpse of heaven. For many of
us, "already and not yet" is unnerving because we want to catch heaven
instantaneously. If you take a moment to reflect, all our experiences of
exhilaration are but glimpses of heaven. What it means is that we want the
access to heaven on tap—as in we devise ways and means to heighten our
exhilaration. Is it any wonder why recreational drugs are part of the culture
of our youths?
It is not to say that we should not have any excitement or wonderment. In
fact, it is a testament of trust in God that we dare leave aside our worries
and concentrate on the moment, to enjoy the moment, to savour the moment… even
if we are at a loss, even if we have no work and even if we are struggling to
come to terms with the death of our loved ones.
Why? Because it is already and also not yet.
This is why Jesus dared speak to Judas in a way which was shocking, a way
which seemed to canonise an aberration which today we are trying so hard to
eradicate. He said, “The poor you always have with you”. What this means is
that we may banish all hunger in the world but it is still not heaven. We may
resolve every conflict in the world and we would not even approximate paradise.
And the list goes on. Yet, this is not an admission of defeat as the Catechism reminds
us that Christ the Lord already reigns through the Church, but all the things
of this world are not yet subjected to Him. But, one thing certain is that with
Christ at the helm of His Church, in a nation, in our family and of us, we dare
to celebrate. In fact, when God seems to be at His weakest as in the helpless
babe, we encounter His greatest providence.
Thus, this evening’s liturgy is full of hope. "Already and not yet" points
us in the direction of God. Already as in God will be there and we do not need
to play God. Thus, tonight, let us leave God to be God and let us joyfully wait
for the moment when the Saviour of the world will burst into our lives.
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