From Palms to The Passion
It is interesting to note the Liturgy of the Word on Palm Sunday, also referred to as Passion Sunday. While the first two readings and the psalm – Is 50: 4-7; Ps 21: 8-9, 17, 18a, 19-20, 23-24; Phil 2: 6-11 – remain the same for cycles A, B and C, the Gospel changes from year to year, highlighting the three Synoptics: St Matthew (26: 14-27, 66), St Mark (14: 1-15, 47), and St Luke (22: 14-23, 56), respectively. They give an account of the Last Supper, the Agony in the Garden, the unfair Trial, the Way to Calvary, and the Crucifixion and Death.
Thus, St John is the only evangelist who does not figure on Palm Sunday. The Beloved Disciple – who offers a selective and somewhat different perspective on the Divine Master, more theological and mystical – is very especially reserved for Maundy Thursday (Jn 13: 1-15) and Good Friday (Jn 18: 1-19, 42), besides two weekday readings. While the Gospel of Thursday focusses on the Last Supper, that of Friday is a Passion narrative that begins with Gethsemane and ends with our Lord’s Death on the Cross.
That much for the readings. Now, as regards the designation of the sixth Sunday of Lent: it is officially called ‘Palm Sunday’, recalling the day when Jesus arrived to a hero’s welcome for the Passover in Jerusalem. No wonder, Chesterton’s ‘Donkey’ was ecstatic: ‘There was a shout about my ears, And palms before my feet,’ he said. But what finally determined the choice of a beast ‘with a monstrous head and sickening cry’, ‘the tattered outlaw of the earth’?
Jesus had walked up to Jerusalem in the past. Although the Synoptics speak of just one Passover, St John states that He celebrated three Passover Feasts in the city of David. Yet, this time he chose to use a donkey, to enter in peace, as a king traditionally did, into a city that was his very own – unlike a conquering king that arrived on a warhorse. Jesus borrowed a colt, which was soon thereafter returned to its owner, realising many Old Testament allusions, the most important being 'Behold, O Jerusalem of Zion, the King comes onto you meek and lowly riding upon a donkey.' (Zech 9: 9)
But what were the crowds so excited about that they should thus cheer Jesus? Pope Benedict XVI, in his book Jesus of Nazareth, states that ‘Jesus had set out with the Twelve, but they were gradually joined by an ever-increasing crowd of pilgrims.’ On the way, the blind Bartimaeus who was cured clinched it; he became a fellow pilgrim on the way to Jerusalem. The miracle filled the people with hope that Jesus might indeed be the new David for whom they were waiting.
Jesus was not going to re-establish the Davidic kingdom – far from it! He had always said that his kingdom is not of this world. Yet, the disciples’ act of enthusiastically seating Jesus on that beast of burden was ‘a gesture of enthronement in the tradition of the Davidic kingship’; the pilgrims who, infected by that enthusiasm, joined in spreading out their garments and waving out palms, mirrored a tradition of Israelite kingship; and their exultant cries, though reported differently by the evangelists, all point to the Old Testament. Still, those players were blissfully unaware that they were fulfilling the Scripture.
The most important part of Scripture was, however, played out was by Jesus Himself. He who had come to celebrate the ‘Passover of the Jews’, as the Synoptic evangelists call it, was in truth observing ‘the Passover of His death and Resurrection’, as St John the Evangelist puts it, for this is what the Saviour said to His disciples: ‘I have been very eager to eat this Passover meal with you before my suffering begins. For I tell you now that I won’t eat this meal again until its meaning is fulfilled in the Kingdom of God.’ (Lk 22:15-16). Jesus fulfilled the Passover by becoming the Sacrificial Lamb.
Our Saviour’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem quickly led to His sorrowful Passion on Calvary. That is how ‘Palm Sunday’ becomes synonymous with ‘Passion Sunday’ in the Liturgy of the Word.
God’s Infinite Love and Mercy
The readings of the fifth Sunday of Lent (Is 43: 16-21; Phil 3: 8-14; Jn 8: 1-11) invite us to be humble, show love and mercy to our neighbour and, in turn, experience God’s loving kindness. They illustrate the same challenge and hope that we daily encounter in the Lord’s Prayer: ‘Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.’
Who can deny that by our modern, rationalist approach to life we are easily given to pride and pessimism? This is the bane of our times. But, as Christians, we cannot allow ourselves to lose hope; the Israelites hoped in God and He rescued them from Babylon. And does He not rescue us from the vagaries of our individual and collective lives? He is a great, big, wonderful God, always opening up 'a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.' He bids us to refrain from dwelling on the past, on the things of old; he wants us to become a new people, for whom He will do marvellous new things.
It is obvious that God is not dead; He is present in history and continues to fulfil His work of salvation in the Church and the world at large. He knows each and every one of us so intimately and loves us so tenderly that only an unfeeling person will fail to reciprocate. For his part, St Paul says, ‘Once I found Christ, all those things that I might have considered profit, I reckoned as loss… garbage.’ The Apostle of the Gentiles employs superlatives only to better express the absolute value that is Christ, the Son of the Living God.
Knowing Christ is by far the highest ideal that a Christian can desire. It is not a mere intellectual knowledge of Him but a personal relationship with Him. that. Notice how Saul who was once a persecutor of Christ turned out to be one of His greatest advocates, Paul: he who was a sinner was completely transformed by his faith in Christ. Likewise, Jesus who has crossed from death to life helps us cross from a life of sin to a life of grace. Let us praise and thank Him for kindly conquering us.
Finally, the Gospel passage: a luminous example of how God welcomes us with arms open wide. The moment He finds even a hint of repentance in our hearts, His healing power is at work in us. The adulterous woman’s dramatic encounter with Jesus is an example of God’s infinite love and mercy. Jesus does not condone her act – ‘Sin no more’, He tells her, in no uncertain terms – but He forgives her fault. Our Creator, who knows best how we are engaged in a hard battle against sin, is always there for us.
What a lesson that is for us who take the moral high ground! Are we not swift to detect the speck in another’s eye while failing to see the log in our own? About the Scribes and Pharisees who brought that woman to Jesus, says Fulton Sheen in his Life of Christ: ‘So set were they on their barren controversy with the Messiah that they did not scruple to use a woman’s shame to score a point.’ That is the bitterest degradation a woman could suffer. The charge being almost irrefutable, how would Our Lord choose between the Law of Moses, which ordered death by stoning, and His own prescription of love and mercy?
It was a tricky matter. The Roman rulers reserved the right to impose a death penalty, whereas by the Mosaic Law an adulterous woman was to be stoned by the people. Which of the laws would Jesus apply to her? Either choice would be an affront to the other. Further, if Jesus had condemned the woman, they would say He was not merciful; if He had condoned her act, He would be contravening the Mosaic law. And what is more, by disobeying this divine directive, He would be negating His own divinity. Hence, their knotty question: ‘What do you say about her?’
As the popular saying goes, ‘Those who live in glass houses should not throw stones.’ Jesus expressed it in more challenging terms: ‘Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.’ Who was fit enough to defend or execute the Mosaic Law? They were sinners, yet accusers; whereas Our Lord, the only Innocent One, refrained from accusing. His mission was to save the soul. He had said in the Sermon on the Mount, ‘Pass no judgement, and you will not be judged, for as you judge others, so will you yourselves be judged, and whatever measure you deal out to others will be dealt back to you.’
Then again, there is the question of gender discrimination (glaring to our modern eyes): what about men involved in that reprehensible act? Why would they go scot-free? These and many other issues only Jesus, who was man and God, could resolve: He had come not to destroy the law but to perfect and fulfil it!
Today, Jesus invites us particularly to check the state of our souls rather than comment on our neighbours’. Let us admit to our sinfulness and be committed to change our miserable lives; and should we wish to fix our broken world, let love, fraternal correction and mercy be our tools. God will then put His finishing touches to our efforts, with His infinite love and mercy.
(Banner: Rubens, 'Christ and the woman caught in adultery')
Our Cause of Rejoicing
Perhaps no other parable is as striking and moving as the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It is the third and last of a set of parables on mercy. The two that precede it are the parables of the Lost Sheep and of the Lost Coin. While these two represent a sinner’s search for the Heavenly Father, the story of the Prodigal Son shows how the Father searches for and receives a contrite sinner – not commending his sins, for sure, but forgiving them. That is why the parable strikes a chord with everyone.
The Parable has been variously titled the ‘Parable of the Two Brothers’ or ‘Two Sons’ or yet the ‘Lost Son’. But that is to look merely at the human side of the story. By thus limiting its scope we are likely to turn a deaf ear to the true message of what is by now a very familiar tale. So, it is hugely important that we look at it as a harbinger of hope and joy.
Hope and joy cannot spring from, or be sustained by, human endeavours alone. For instance, despite the inherent drama of the parable in hand, it would be just another story if divested of its divine radiance. It is, therefore, not farfetched to alternatively title it the ‘Parable of the Loving Father’ or of the ‘Forgiving Father’ – or even of the ‘Prodigal Father’, in the best sense of the term, that is, one who loves bountifully! After all, divine love and forgiveness are ever-fresh even two millennia after Jesus made it known.
The present parable tells of the younger of the two sons who, by demanding the share of inheritance due to him, infringed tradition and offended his father. He squandered his wealth in loose living and, only when in dire straits, retraced his steps, mentally prepared to work as a servant in his father’s house. Much against his expectation, his father not only welcomed him with open arms but also treated him as a beloved son – as if nothing had happened. No doubt the mother is sorely missing from the scene; but perhaps that is only to show her love is encompassed in God's omnipotent goodness.
It is obvious that the young man considered that he deserved stringency, not mercy. On the other hand, Pope John Paul II, in his encyclical Dives in Misericordia, says that his father’s joyful response indicates that ‘even if he is a prodigal, a son does not cease to be truly his father's son; it also indicates a good that has been found again, which in the case of the prodigal son was his return to the truth about himself.’
What a soul-stirring finale that would have made except that the elder brother literally spoilt the party. On the face of it, he was not wrong. Had not the Benjamin received his share and left the father’s house merry as a bird? Had not his actions disgraced the family? While this is undeniable, is it not equally true that the habitually decorous elder brother was now being self-righteous, resentful, selfish, jealous, and merciless? He may have adhered to the letter of the law, but not its spirit!
We can identify ourselves with the Parable because we are like either of the sons. The Encyclical notes that the younger son ‘in a certain sense is the man of every period, beginning with the one who was the first to lose the inheritance of grace and original justice.’ We may smugly condemn the younger one – he has done something awful that none can accuse us of! We do not forget his flaws, much less appreciate his regrets. We fail to thank God that no such slip-up has landed us in a bad situation. We fail to realise that we ‘all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God’.
The good news is that we can change it for the better if we walk back towards our father – the only perfect character in the Parable. He was sinned against by both his sons, but holds it not against them. He represents God the Father who is always happy to find His lost sons – you and me; and to call upon others – symbolised by the elder son – to partake of that joy. The Parable is a fitting response from Jesus to those who had criticised Him for accepting tax collectors and other public sinners at His table. But then, had God kept a record of our sins, who would survive? So, let’s go ahead and ‘forgive those who have sinned against us.’
That God treats us with love and mercy calls for great rejoicing; it is a crowning of our poor little spiritual journey. That is why the fourth Sunday of Lent is called Laetere Sunday, from the words ‘Laetare Jerusalem’ (‘Rejoice with Jerusalem’, Is. 66:10) in the Latin introit for the Mass of the day. This is a refreshing change in the midst of the sombre mood of Lent. That the Gospel has revealed the Father’s infinite love and mercy and the possibility of our reconciliation with Him and our neighbour is the ultimate reason for our joy.
Encounter with God
The Gospels of the first two Sundays of Lent were devoted to the Temptation in the Desert and the Transfiguration: in the former, the Son of God laid bare His spiritual fibre, while in the latter, the Father expressed His total trust in His Son. Convinced that we have seen the True God, we today focus on the need for an ever-closer encounter with Him.
God has chosen you and me to follow Him; it is up to us to respond. Moses did so by approaching the burning bush; and on behalf of doubting Thomases of all times, he bade God to better identify Himself. God called Himself ‘I am’ – employing a simple but remarkable verb that pinpoints the core of existence. Closer to our times, French philosopher Descartes famously declared, ‘I think, therefore I am’; which A L Thomas presented as: ‘I doubt, therefore I think, therefore I am.’
Be that as it may, God’s description strikes much deeper: ‘I am who I am.’ You can’t push the boundaries any further. That is because God was present at the beginning of time; He is present now, and ever shall be. In fact, He it is who made Time with a capital T – and, very tenderly, still makes time for us every day! He revealed His greatness and transcendence to Moses but was never aloof. On the contrary, sensitive to the problems of the Israelites, He liberated them from their desperate situation in Egypt.
But if you’ve been wondering why He doesn’t do the same in our day and age – see how criminals have a field day, and despots, none to question them! – be sure that God has not abdicated his responsibilities; He is in our midst and keeps His promises. Chances are we fail to see God in everyday happenings – in the bustle of lives, we hardly make time for Him!
Jesus is the new and greater Moses. He is the Son of God who has spoken to modern man. He is the ‘I am’ variously qualified: ‘I am the Bread of Life,’ He said; ‘I am the Light of the World’; ‘I am the Door’; ‘I am the Good Shepherd’; ‘I am the Resurrection and the Life’; ‘I am the Way and the Truth and the Life’; ‘I am the Vine’. He is indeed the Messiah, the Saviour of the World, always there for us.
How about a closer encounter God! Like Moses, we too will see the burning bush if we care to do a little bit of soul-searching – by believing, hoping and trusting in God; by loving Him, praising Him, blessing Him, glorifying Him, worshipping and giving Him thanks. Constancy in prayer, fasting, almsgiving, and receiving Our Lord in the Eucharist will make of us living tabernacles of God’s Holy Presence.
‘We’ve got a great, big, wonderful God,’ haven’t we? Let’s cultivate a sense of wonder and gratitude! We’ve had the grace to be born in the Christian fold – let’s value our identity! We’re called to be the light of the world and salt of the earth – let’s show it in real terms!
On the other hand, let’s not be reluctant to speak of God and for God. Let’s not fall into the temptation to disown the True God and embrace false gods. It will mean a breach of the First Commandment, a mortal sin, and an outrage crying out to Heaven!
At any rate, every saint has had a past and every sinner has got a future. We are those sinners; we have fallen short of the glory of God. Yet, calamities and disgraces that come our way (be it the war or even the covid-19 pandemic) are not punishments but only a natural consequence of the faulty exercise of our free will. They are at best a heavenly reminder of the urgent need for repentance and inner conversion.
Finally, even if God remains a fascinating mystery to our limited minds, we can rest assured that He is a God who blesses, forgives, heals, redeems and crowns us with love and compassion. With humility, contrition and good courage we can have a change of heart, a deeper union, and a fuller communion with Him who is, was and ever shall be – the Lord our God!
Bridging humanity and divinity
The readings today bring into sharp focus the relation between humanity and divinity. Whereas ‘Christ assumed a true human body by means of which the invisible God became visible,’ (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 92), ‘the human person is the summit of visible creation in as much as he or she is created in the image and likeness of God.’ (63) ‘Endowed with a spiritual and immortal soul, intelligence and free will, the human person is ordered to God and called in soul and in body to eternal beatitude.’ (352) That’s a bridge between humanity and divinity.
Christ who is divine deigned to become human; isn’t it only fitting that we who are human should strive towards the divine? Our fallen condition makes that aspiration seem beyond us. That’s a cross that we have to carry, but we have also to persevere, trusting that the final victory will be ours. In the words of the popular hymn ‘Old Rugged Cross’: ‘I'll cherish the old rugged cross / Till my trophies at last I lay down / I will cling to the old rugged cross / And exchange it some day for a crown.’ That’s when we will have fulfilled our vocation and mission as Christians.
In our pilgrim journey, we are often assailed by doubt. ‘How am I to know that I shall possess [this land]?’ asked Abram. Trials and temptations were his cup of woe, as they are ours today; but he remained faithful to God, and we should do likewise. After all, God extends His hand to us all the time; we should gauge his love and say, ‘The Lord is my light and my salvation.’ A wonderful antidote to all temptations, this psalm should forever be on our lips.
In the second reading, St Paul declares that for many ‘their God is their stomach; their glory is in their shame.' Sounds so contemporary! Indeed, aren’t we anxious about sowing, reaping and gathering into barns? If we think it natural to be ‘occupied with earthly things’, how much more should we be occupied with our supernatural destiny! Being made in the image and likeness of God ‘our citizenship is in Heaven, and from it, we also await a Saviour, the Lord Jesus Christ.’ If anyone else claims to speak words of salvation, be sure their ‘fruits [are] like honey to the throat / But poison in the blood.’ We can’t really stomach them, for we are made for God.
Jesus came into the world with the Good News of Salvation. But alas, the people of Israel were deaf to His message and blind to His miracles. On Mount Tabor, disciples Peter, John and James heard Jesus talking in glory to Moses and Elijah. Jesus’ imminent departure from this world was at the top of the agenda, but at the top of Peter’s mind was just the pleasure of being there on the Mount. When a cloud overshadowed the trio, and they were afraid, the Father’s voice spoke these ineffable words: ‘This is my Son, my Chosen; listen to Him!’
The Transfiguration is a major feast in the Catholic Church; is it the same in our hearts? St Thomas Aquinas considered it to be one of the greatest miracles in that it complemented baptism and showed the perfection of life in Heaven. St Pope John Paul II introduced it as a ‘luminous mystery’ in the Rosary. But does the miracle transfigure us – turn us into something more beautiful and elevated?
On that Mount, Jesus became the visible bridge between God and man; do we act as bridges or as walls in our society? God the Father clearly indicated that His Son’s mission is higher than that of Moses and of Elijah. How far have we taken this message to the people around us?
That God appeared in person and spoke live is proof that ours is not a God of the dead but of the living: Moses and Elijah, who died centuries ago, are seen in the presence of God. It is a vindication of the Eternal Life promised to all who die in the faith. What an awesome God we serve. ‘Now more than ever seems it rich to die’!
God's Grace: go get it this Lent!
The secular world has given Lent a bad name by making it look like a season of deprivation. It has artfully concealed the fact that deprivation is a thing of its own making, the outcome of a sinful existence. Isn’t sin rampant and yet seemingly non-existent? In the modern world shattered by sin, alas, the absence of God’s grace is its greatest deprivation.
Against that sordid background, how soothing a balm is the liturgical season of Lent! We are invited to return to God, to walk in His path, and to savour His mercy and love. We ought to seize these forty days and renew our faith in the God who saves. We can never forget that the Father sent his Son to restore His covenant with the world; and that relationship is still alive. Lent is therefore a time of great hope, joy and thanksgiving.
The first reading on this first Sunday of Lent (Year C) is taken from Deuteronomy (26: 4-10), the fifth book of the Old Testament. The book comprises Moses’ sermons to the Chosen People as they stood on the threshold of the Promised Land, after a long exile in Egypt. These addresses recall Israel’s past and assert the identity of the Israelites; they also recap the laws that Moses had conveyed at Mount Sinai, stressing that their observance was essential to the people’s wellbeing.
In today’s excerpt we see that Moses calls the Israelites to offer their first produce to the Lord of Heaven and Earth to whom everything belongs. How deeply pertinent to our day and age! We too ought to offer the best of ourselves to God. Such acts of praise and thanksgiving would be perfect antidotes to modern man’s tendency to pose as all-knowing and all-powerful. It’s time we reset our priorities and put God first in our lives.
In the second reading, St Paul (Rom 10: 8-13) echoes those thoughts. The Son of God is the Saviour of the World. And, clearly, ‘if you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.’ Thus, Christian faith is about trusting in God’s omnipresence, omniscience and omnipotence; it is about adhering to the Risen Christ. He invites everyone; ‘the same Lord is Lord of all and bestows his riches upon all who call upon Him.’ So, let every knee bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is Lord.
The Gospel (Lk 4: 1-13) shows how the evil one deplored the truth that Jesus is Lord. He thought it fit to test Him in the wilderness after Jesus had suffered deprivation of food, water, sleep, and human company. He was disappointed on seeing that the Son of Man had ample provision of the Spirit of God. But then, why did the Holy Spirit lead Jesus to be tempted at all! He did so that His victory might be even the greater. And behold His rejoinders: ‘Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’ – ‘You shall worship the Lord your God, and Him only shall you serve’ – ‘You shall not tempt the Lord your God.’
Here in India, we would call that a ‘tight slap’. Yet, the temptation in the desert was not an isolated incident; it was very much the beginning of Jesus’ struggle with the prince of darkness, and it only ended on Calvary!... And be sure that the evil one is still around, testing you and me in the tangle of our lives. He tempts us with money and comforts, power and influence; it is almost as if the world is in his clutches. He brazens it out in ways unknown to us naïve children of the light! Not even our baptism in Christ protects us from his icy fingers; the first sacrament is rather the start of a hard journey that tests our faithfulness. But why worry when He is there, ‘My refuge, my stronghold, my God in whom I trust’! (Ps 90: 1-2)
This Sunday of Lent let us acknowledge that the battle with forces of evil is an undeniable reality. (Our hearts go out to the people of Ukraine who have been countering the enemy with fortitude – Amen!) We must diligently put on the armour of God, be filled with the Holy Spirit and stand against the wiles of the devil. We have the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist, which will empower us. For our part, we must renounce evil, sin and Satan – and embrace good, grace and God. Let’s go get it this Lent!
From Earth to Eternity
This Sunday’s readings[1], short but powerful, provide an apt runup to Lent that is three days away. While the first and third readings help us reflect on the nature of earthly life, the second puts the spotlight on our eternal destiny.
The Book of Sirach (also called Ecclesiasticus, as it was frequently read in churches) captures some eternal truths. Written two centuries before Christ, by Jewish scribe Ben Sirach, it points to God as the fount of all knowledge. This is pertinent, particularly as we reel under foolish diktats that can trigger a world war. Can there be any doubt that ‘violence covers the mouth of the wicked’? (cf. Prov. 10:11) So, we must beware of those who craftily try and win friends and influence people; since sweet talk masks some people’s intentions, we must wait until they are unmasked by their actions. To know who and when and why, only in God we trust; He alone can discern the workings of the human heart.
For our part, could we examine the nature of our thoughts, words and deeds? If we cannot control our thoughts, let us at least keep guard on our tongues, and our actions will take care of themselves. And what of our relationships? Do we listen more than we speak, or do we pretend to teach what we ourselves need to learn! Our Lord has said, ‘No disciple is superior to the teacher; but when fully trained, every disciple will be like his teacher.’ When we pattern ourselves after the Master, rather than after a local celebrity or star, we grow in self-knowledge and will readily thank God night and day. The Psalm says, ‘It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praise to your name, O Most High; to proclaim your kindness at dawn and your faithfulness throughout the night.’
After all, whether we live or die, we belong to the Lord. It behoves us to proceed with humility, gentleness, and patience, and to accept each other with love. And whether trained or not, we are not to look down upon the other, or to try and remove a speck from another’s eye when our own is laden with a bar! We have to particularly mind our tongues; they are mightier than our hands when it comes to breaking a heart. ‘The good man out of the good treasure of his heart produces good, and the evil man out of his evil treasure produces evil; for out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.’ So, let our thoughts, words and actions tell of our relationship with the Lord.
When we as followers of Christ avoid all wrongdoing, we don’t turn passive! On the contrary, we get to focus on our mighty vocation: to build God’s kingdom. Through baptism, we are called to be – like Jesus – priest, prophet and king: to bring others to God and God to others; to give voice to the voiceless, and to use our time and talent for the common good. That is a threefold call to holiness. Needless to say, after having fought the good fight, finished our course, and kept the faith, there will be laid up for us a crown of justice. (cf. Tim 4:8)
Which is why St Paul is not intimated by death: perishable beings turn imperishable, and mortals put on immortality, says he. His treatment of the theme is so engaging that many a play and novel, song and film have celebrated the verse ‘Death is swallowed up in victory / O Death, where is thy victory? / O Death, where is thy sting?’ Particularly striking is John Donne’s sonnet which, while personifying death, humorously yet profoundly argues against its power. And while the sixteenth-century English clergyman and metaphysical poet ends his devotional lyric with a strong prediction: ‘Death, thou shalt die!’; the Apostle of the Gentiles ends his letter with a warm assurance: ‘Be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labour is not in vain.’ Interestingly, thoughts about that treasure which lies in Heaven can give our life on earth an exciting new direction.
[1] Sir 27:5-8; Ps 91:2-3,13-14,15; 1Cor 15:54-58; Lk 6:39-43
The Challenge of Loving
Today’s readings (Sam 26:2.7-9, 12-13, 22-23; Ps 102, 1-2, 3-4, 8, 10, 12-13; 1 Cor 15:45-49; Lk 6:27-38) present a great challenge to our life of faith: to live as Jesus lived. David’s posture prefigures Jesus’ teaching about mercy and forgiveness, love and compassion. It is an invitation to follow a whole new way of life, even if the world dubs it an impossible dream, or just plain folly.
David was an outstanding general in the army of Saul, the first king of Israel. Envious of his popularity, and seeing him as a threat to his kingdom and dynasty, Saul plotted against David but fell into his hands instead. David and his military leader Abishai literally walked into Saul’s encampment in the dead of night and returned with Saul’s spear and jar of water; they could well have killed him, but David chose not to put forth his hand against the Lord’s anointed. David was indeed a man after God’s own heart.
David’s magnanimous gesture stands as a model of neighbourly love. Jesus, a descendant of the same royal house, twenty-eight generations later, weaves a whole new philosophy about love when he says: ‘Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.’ No doubt, it sounds crazy to offer the other cheek; to let others take away our goods with impunity, and to be fools for Christ. But as we learn from David, love of God and neighbour is the only perfect formula.
It goes without saying that the Fall has made it difficult for man to put God and others before self. Our slavery to sin is what Jesus wants us to root out; He has shown the way, by dying for our sins. And we, who are unlikely to die on the cross, could we at least carry it with a spirit of loving sacrifice? It is not easy, especially if we depend on our own strength; but with God’s help, it is not impossible.
But how do we do it? By dying to ourselves in the ups and downs of daily life; by showing mercy and love to others; by making a positive sacrifice for the love of God. In other words, He must increase; we must decrease. Or, to paraphrase Padre Zezinho, the Brazilian songwriter and communicator, we have to love as Jesus loved, dream as Jesus dreamt, think as Jesus did, live as Jesus lived; we must feel what Jesus felt, smile as Jesus smiled, and surely at the end of day we will sleep to our heart’s content.
‘The Lord is compassion and love, slow to anger and rich in mercy.’ We are called to be and do the same. According to St Paul, ‘just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we shall also bear the image of the man of heaven.’ That’s a promise. It is not for us to fret about achieving perfection; it behoves us to only keep trying. Our Father in Heaven, who is rich in mercy and love, knows the vicissitudes of our earthly and spiritual journey. He wants us to make a difference, by loving not only those who love us but to show mercy and love as God does, fully and unconditionally.
If that still comes across as an illusion, or a dream not worth chasing, it is because modern man is so self-absorbed that he thinks of realising himself through self-love, self-interest, self-promotion; it’s a lot about ‘I, me and myself’. What a far cry from the life that God urges us to follow: a life spent in the service of others; a life of prudence, justice, temperance, fortitude, mercy, compassion, faith, hope, and love. This is the real stuff of life, the real challenge; everything else is illusion.
When our God is the Lord!
How many of us sincerely believe that God’s law is a boon? Sometimes, we complain about it, shun it, or even have the temerity to think it a bane. We seem to put our trust and find meaning only in laws that we have devised, when actually they are far from fool-proof.
In contrast, God’s law is a blueprint for happiness; it was always meant to be so. That the Chosen People failed to see it that way and dishonoured their covenants is a different matter. God in His love sent prophets to salvage the situation. One of them was Jeremiah (700 B.C.), who minced no words when he said, ‘Cursed is the one who trusts in human beings, who seeks his strength in flesh, whose heart turns away from the Lord.’ But then, they turned down prophet after prophet, and threw a spanner in God’s plan of salvation.
Felix culpa! It paved the way for the New Covenant. Jesus came into the world as the new Adam, to form a new humanity. He infused new life into the law. He liberated it from false interpretations; he disapproved of sticking to the letter to the detriment of the spirit of the law; he condemned practices that were merely external and ritualistic. What is more, Jesus pointed to what should be at the heart of the law: love of God and love of neighbour. Finally, by his own death and resurrection, He created a covenant of love.
In the course of His earthly ministry, Jesus touched upon the topic of happiness – an ideal very close to the human heart. He wished to show how God’s law can be an instrument of human happiness. St Luke collected Jesus’ thoughts on the subject, titling it ‘Sermon on the Plain’ (corresponding to what St Matthew does, in a more detailed manner, in the ‘Sermon on the Mount’). In a few pithy statements, Jesus points to sets of people that are usually thought to be ‘unhappy’, and he pronounces them happy or blessed.
Jesus’ pronouncements appear contradictory and bewildering: how can the poor, the hungry, the suffering and the reviled ever be idealised? Which of us would like to be in their shoes? It simply goes against the grain, doesn’t it? But the key to the riddle lies in recognising that God does not think as we do; or rather, human ways have long moved away from God’s ways. In the heat of life’s battles, we see distorted images of reality; God in his wisdom sees it right. That’s good enough reason to let ourselves be guided by Him who is the Author of Life, to surrender to Him who is the Master Physician and can fix all problems. If in all humility we do God’s will, the rest will be given unto us: the joy of life and the promise of eternal salvation.
Jesus assures the poor, the hungry, the suffering and the reviled that their troubles will not go in vain. After all, don’t they trust the Lord better than do the rich, the satiated, the merrymakers and the sought-after? Jesus’ “poor” are those who do not covet earthly riches but set their eyes on the treasure that awaits them in Heaven; the “hungry” that He talks about are those who crave for the Bread and Water of Life; they “weep” who are deeply sorry for their sins; and they are “reviled” who side with the truth rather than playing to the gallery.
Jesus follows up the four beatitudes with four maledictions, as though to reinforce what He had couched in milder language. And when the rich, the satiated, the merrymakers and the sought-after understand that they have had their day is when it dawns on us that none can have it both ways. And who knows, maybe the rich, the satiated, the merrymakers and the sought-after were not even at peace with themselves; they only pretended to feel blessed.
Therefore, only they can be truly blessed whose God is the Lord.
(Banner: Church of the Beatitudes, Israel)
A Road Well Taken
Selecting the right path, both literally and figuratively, is the central theme of American poet Robert Frost’s ‘The Road Not Taken’. The poem was prompted by the continual state of indecision faced by an English writer-friend of his. When the two went for walks, his friend always found it difficult to choose a route, and even after all that fuss was over, he sighed over the opportunities missed on the other route.
The poem popped into my mind as I was going through the Mass readings. We have Isaiah (6:1-2A, 3-8), Paul (1 Cor 15:1-11) and Peter (Lk 5:1-11), three Biblical heavyweights. Like Jeremiah last Sunday, they too faltered at first, then made a leap of faith. They received their calls quite differently but, animated by the love of God, they had the same goal in mind. And unlike the man in the poem, they never regretted the road they had taken. In fact, they were convinced, they persevered under trials, and received the crown of life.
Isaiah receives his prophetic call at the feast of Atonement. In the temple, he had visions of the heavenly court. He did not get to see God face to face; he only glimpsed the train of his garment and heard the quake and the smoke – signs of God’s presence. As he heard the angels sing the Sanctus (the same that we now hear at Mass) he began to feel anxious about his sinful state vis-à-vis God’s presence. He anticipated death but instead was healed by the touch of a burning coal. Fired thus with God’s spirit, he gave his fiat: ‘Here I am! Send me!’
Isaiah was ready to go as God’s messenger, and so was Saul after he became Paul. Initially a persecutor of the Christians, Paul’s dramatic encounter with Jesus on the high road to Damascus changed it all. He offered himself without reservation to God’s service. He undertook four missionary journeys and came to be called ‘Apostle of the Gentiles’. And as there were misgivings about Jesus’ death and resurrection, Paul proclaimed it as an undeniable fact and, for him, a life-changing experience. About the Resurrection, which is at the heart of the Christian message, Paul said emphatically that, without it, ‘our faith is futile’.
Whereas Isaiah was timid, and Paul who was conceited became humble after his personal experience of God, Simon Peter for his part was a rustic character. Jesus, however, did not look at his intellect but at his heart. A fisherman and unlettered though he was, Jesus made of him a fisher of men. Peter eventually became greater than all men of letters put together, schooled as he was in the knowledge and the love of God. He was in awe of Jesus, and on hearing His soothing words – ‘Do not be afraid. You will catch people from now on’ – Peter and his fellow fishermen James and John left everything and followed Him.
You and I, who are called to live out our baptismal vocation of priest, prophet and king, where do we stand? Do we believe that we should leave everything and follow Him? Or, do we, like the poet, see two paths, unsure which to choose?
Really speaking, Christians have only one path before them: to be messengers of God’s salvation and grace by the apostolate of presence. We are called to be the light of the world and the salt of the earth, such that the temporal is soaked in the Christian spirit. Indeed, we must not let ourselves be blinded by the city lights; we must not be lured by ideologies that lead us astray from the path of truth and justice; we must rather be committed to the only life-giver, Jesus Christ. He is the Way, the Truth and the Life. He shows us the road to Eternal Life. This cannot but be a road well taken.