Crossing Junctions

 

Solemnity of Ss Peter & Paul, Apostles

Readings: Acts 12:1-11; Psalm 33 (34):2-9; 2 Timothy 4:6-8, 17-18; Matthew 16:13-19

Picture: By Egor Myznik on Unsplash

Why are motorists asked to slow down when approaching a junction? Isn’t it because a junction can be a dangerous place? Dangerous, because it’s where traffic flowing in different directions meet. Both vehicular and pedestrian traffic. And there’s a real risk of collisions, resulting in damage to property, and the loss of life and limb. But collisions are not the only danger we face at a junction. Nor are limbs and lives all that can be lost. Especially if we’re at an unfamiliar place, we may also run the risk of making a wrong turn, of losing our way, and failing to reach our intended destination. What do you think? If forced to make a choice, which is the better option? To lose our life, or to lose our way?

I believe this is a question our scriptures invite us to ponder on this solemn feast of Ss Peter and Paul. Two foundational figures of our Church. For whether we’re conscious of it or not, as followers of Christ, as members of his Body, all of us are called to travel together toward a particular destination. The place to which Jesus came to lead us. In the gospel, isn't it to this same place that Jesus is promising to give St Peter the power to regulate access? I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven.

But not everyone is moving in this same direction. Not all of us are heading towards the kingdom of heaven. For we share this world not just with those who adhere to faiths different from our own, and those who, in their own ways, are sincerely seeking the one true God. Unfortunately, there are also those who, through the choices they make, and the lives they lead, are actually moving in the opposite direction. Pursuing and upholding values contrary to those of God’s kingdom. Anxiously hoarding treasures that will pass away. Effectively knocking, not on the doors of heaven, but on the gates of the underworld. So that, on this earth, Christ’s Body, the Church, finds herself at something like a huge junction. A busy meeting point of people and groups, bodies and institutions, travelling in different spiritual directions. And as with all busy traffic junctions, collisions are a real danger.

Isn’t this the experience of both Peter and Paul? In the first reading, Peter’s practice of the faith collides with the political agenda of King Herod. The apostle finds himself in prison, awaiting execution. And the second reading begins with Paul poignantly expressing his conviction that he will soon be put to death by the authorities. My life is already being poured away as a libation, and the time has come for me to be gone… Yet, in the face of mortal danger, a consoling word keeps echoing through our scriptures. The word rescue. The psalm reminds us that the angel of the Lord rescues those who revere him. In the first reading, Peter is saved, or rescued, from prison. And in the second reading, Paul speaks of how, like the prophet Daniel of old, he was rescued from the lion’s mouth. But we need to understand just what kind of rescue this really is. For tradition tells us that both Peter and Paul were martyred for their faith. Eventually, they were rescued not from death, but from the danger of losing their way, of failing to reach their intended destination. Forced to choose between preserving their earthly lives, and remaining faithful to Christ, they received courage to choose Christ, and so were brought safely to his heavenly kingdom.

Not only that, our scriptures also indicate to us, just how God brings this about. First through a wonderful personal revelation. The same revelation that Paul received on the road to Damascus, and which Peter receives in the gospel. The ability to recognise and confess Jesus as the Christ, the Son of the Living God. The One who humbly submitted to a fatal collision, on the cruel junction of the Cross, and was then rescued and raised to life for us all. It is by accepting this divine revelation, and then by continually cultivating a loving, intimate, ever-deepening relationship with Christ–found especially in the Eucharist, as well as in the poor–that we ourselves are rescued from the danger of losing our way.

Revelation, relationship and rescue. Crucial steps by which we allow God to lead us across the junction of this world, to the safety of our heavenly home. But what relevance does this have for us? We for whom martyrdom seems far too remote a possibility. And whose lives often feel more like a speeding expressway, than a troublesome junction? Yet isn’t it particularly when life seems so fast, that it becomes all the more important to ensure that we’re moving in the right direction? What a disaster it would be, to reach the end of the highway, only to find ourselves at the wrong destination.

Sisters and brothers, how might we help one another to slow down from time to time, and to check our bearings today?

Standing in the Arc of Grace

The Most Holy Trinity (C)

Readings: Proverbs 8:22-31; Psalm 8:4-9; Romans 5:1-5; John 16:12-15

Picture: By Joshua Tsu on Unsplash

Why do people choose to stand in line? Why do so many of us bother to queue–sometimes even overnight–for such trivial things as concert tickets, newly released smartphones, and even ugly toys like Labubu? Perhaps one reason is because there’s actually a certain pleasure to waiting in line. We relish the anticipation, the joyful hope of finally getting something we’ve desired for some time. And isn’t a queue also often a revelation? Like how a long line of customers, in front of a hawker stall, is usually a reliable signal that the food is worth the wait. Something I may not know for a fact, but I’m happy to receive in faith. Which serves to highlight the relational aspect of standing in line. Whether I realise it or not, to join a queue is to become part of a community, a communion of people sharing a common love… Anticipation, revelation, and communion. Joyful hope, received faith and common love. Three aspects of standing in line.

It’s helpful to keep all this in mind, as we celebrate the solemn feast of the Most Holy Trinity, because we find something similar in our scriptures today. In the second reading, St Paul says that we Christians have entered into a state of grace. According to another, more literal, translation, we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand (NRSV). Whether we realise it or not, we Christians are now standing in grace. And what's it like to stand in grace? Paul describes it as a looking forward to God’s glory, to the coming of God’s kingdom in its fullness. In other words, like people waiting in a queue, we are in anticipation. We experience a joyful hope for what is yet to come.

And what has brought us to join this queue, to stand in this line of grace? Paul reminds us that it is only by faith and through Jesus. It is what we believe Christ has accomplished for us by his Dying and Rising. The revelation of the great Mystery, which we’ve just spent the whole of Easter pondering and celebrating. It is faith in this same Mystery that has prompted us to remain standing in this queue. Accepting the wisdom described in the first reading. Allowing ourselves to be led to know and to praise the One true God, whose greatness is revealed also in the wonders of creation. How great is your name, O Lord our God, through all the earth!

To accept the revelation of wisdom, to receive this precious faith, is also to allow ourselves to be moved and inspired by the Spirit of truth, whom Jesus speaks about in the gospel. The One who leads us to the complete truth. And how does the Spirit do this? Paul says it is by pouring the love of God into our hearts. Effectively gathering us into a communion of love. Not just love shared among different people, but love that both flows out from and is continually sustained by God, Father, Son and Spirit… Anticipation, revelation, and communion. Joyful hope, received faith, common love. According to the scriptures, this is what it means to believe in the Holy Trinity. To be enfolded in the warmth of God’s embrace. This is what it’s like to stand in the line of grace.

Still, it’s important for us to remember that, even in this ultra-high-tech world of ours, there remain many people who stand in line not because they choose to, but because they have to. Those forced to join queues of some sort, not to satisfy frivolous cravings, but to meet basic needs. Such as for proper education, adequate employment, fair remuneration, timely medical attention, affordable housing, and even food and water. Who among us can fail to be heartbroken by scenes of starving families displaced by war, gathered desperately at a makeshift aid station? And aren’t there also those among us still yearning for things that are less tangible, but no less important? Things like tenderness and compassion; sincerity and companionship; a safe nurturing environment at home, in school, and even at work; a sense of meaning and purpose in life… Doesn’t belief in the Trinity also involve somehow seeking out and standing in solidarity with those still waiting for important things like these? Offering if not actual practical assistance, then at least our loving thoughts and heartfelt prayer?

A for anticipation. R for revelation. C for communion. A-R-C. Perhaps it’s fitting that these letters spell the word arc. A helpful reminder that queues worth joining are typically neither perfectly straight nor mercifully short. For in the words commonly attributed to Martin Luther King, Jr, the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.

Sisters and brothers, if it’s true that believing in the Holy Trinity is very much like standing in line, then how might we help one another to persevere in each doing our part to bend the arc of our world ever closer towards the justice and peace of God’s kingdom today?

Singing of Home

Pentecost Sunday (C)

Readings: Acts 2: 1-11; Psalm 103 (104): 1, 24, 29-31, 34; Romans 8:8-17; Jn 14:15-16, 23-26

Picture: By Josh Appel on Unsplash

It’s still a little early to ask, but do you have a favourite National Day song? How about the one written by Dick Lee, and sung by Kit Chan? The one that goes, This is home, truly, where I know I must be… Many of us like that one, right? Songs like this have the power to move us, regardless of our race, language or religion. And we allow ourselves to be moved, even though we realise that such songs actually paint an ideal picture of our country, and that the reality isn’t quite as rosy. In a sense, the place described in the song doesn’t actually exist. Not yet, not fully. But somehow, mysteriously, we still can’t help liking the song. It tugs at our heartstrings. Brings us together. Makes us feel a common yearning for home. Not only that, the song also moves us to celebrate the accomplishments of our forebears, as well as commit ourselves to continue their work. To do our part to help bring the reality ever closer to the ideal… Common yearning, celebrating accomplishments, and commitment to do our part. Three salutary effects of a simple song. Could the Holy Spirit be doing something similar in our scriptures today?

How does it happen…? This is what the people in the first reading want to know. Those gathered and amazed by the incredible sights and sounds accompanying the Spirit’s arrival at Pentecost… Rushing wind and tongues of flame. Effortless communication across language barriers... How does it happen? Actually, this question can be answered quite easily today, right? For we live in a time of CGI and AI-powered Google Translate. But they didn’t have such things back then. So we need another explanation. One that’s more low-tech, but also more spiritual and deeply human. Something like how a simple song can unite people of diverse backgrounds, reminding us of our common yearning for home.

Except that, in our scriptures, home goes beyond any merely geographical location. Beyond the many places listed in the reading. No, here home isn’t just a particular country or locality, but a relationship, a communion. It’s what Jesus talks about in the gospel, when he says, If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home with him… It’s also what St Paul talks about in the second reading, when he says, Your interests… are not in the unspiritual, but in the spiritual, since the Spirit of God has made his home in you… Somehow, through the mysterious power of the Spirit, the disciples are able to cross language barriers, and tap into their listeners’ common hunger for God, their common yearning for home.

And it’s no accident that the disciples proceed to tell their listeners about the marvels of God, chiefly the Life, Death, and Resurrection of Christ. For this is how home has been made accessible to us all. The disciples are celebrating the accomplishments of God in Christ. And isn’t this the same Mystery we ourselves have spent all of the forty days of Lent, and the fifty days of Easter preparing for and pondering, contemplating and savouring? Like the disciples, we too have been celebrating the Lord’s great accomplishment. How he has prepared for us all a spiritual home in God.

But it’s important for us to realise that, by referring to this home as spiritual, we’re not saying that it’s purely interior or heavenly. Something to be found only by engaging in deep prayer in a remote monastery. Helpful though this may be. For the psalmist reminds us that the Spirit sent by God renews not just human hearts, but the whole face of the earth. Isn’t this also what we believe Jesus has accomplished through his Dying and Rising? Nothing less than what we pray for every time we recite the Lord’s Prayer. The coming of God’s kingdom on earth, as… in heaven.

Even so, we have only to look around at the current state of our world, and perhaps even our own lives and relationships, to realise that the kingdom is not quite here yet. At least not in its fullness. Which is why Pentecost isn’t just a celebration of a something already accomplished. It’s also a call to share in a mission that’s still ongoing. As the second reading reminds us, the Spirit moves us not just to cry out Abba, Father!, but also to play our part as coheirs with Christ to God’s kingdom, sharing his sufferings so as to share his glory. In addition to reminding us of our common yearning for home, and moving us to celebrate Christ’s accomplishments, the Spirit is also calling us to commit ourselves to sharing in the Lord’s ongoing mission.

Common yearning, celebrating accomplishments, and commitment to do our part… This is home, truly, where we know we must be… Sisters and brothers, how is the Spirit moving us to join in this song, not just with our voices, and not just here in church, but also with our lives, out there in our hungry and waiting world today?