Behind the Price of a Haircut

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Amos 8:4-7; Psalm 112 (113): 1-2, 4-8; 1 Timothy 2:1-8; Luke 16:1-13

Picture: By cheng feng on Unsplash

My dear friends, if the going rate for a 10-minute express haircut is around $15, why would anyone charge less than $10? Aren’t there at least three possible reasons? Back in June this year, an elderly gentleman discovered the first of these reasons the hard way. He went for what was supposed to be an $8 haircut at a shop in Ang Mo Kio, and was tricked into paying $1,000 for scalp treatments he did not need. But a low price doesn’t always indicate a swindle. Sometimes it may just be a way to attract more customers, with the hope that a higher sales volume will more than make up for the lower profit margin of each haircut. Shrewd business strategy. This is the second reason for charging less. Then there are also those who offer free haircuts to seniors and the disabled, because they genuinely wish to serve those in need. Swindle, strategy and service. More than just different motivations for charging less, these three reasons also reflect different ways of relating to money. Swindle, strategy and service. Don’t we find something similar in our scriptures today?

In the first reading, through the prophet Amos, God exposes the unjust practices of the rich people in Israel. Not satisfied with offering less goods for higher prices, they also engage in swindling and tampering with the scales. They even sell goods that are barely fit for human consumption. The sweepings or, in another translation (RSV), the refuse of the wheat. Like that hair salon in Ang Mo Kio, these people are shameless swindlers. Ruthlessly, they prey on the vulnerable, just to turn a profit. They trample on the needy, and suppress the poor. Yet, from a spiritual perspective, they’re not really making money, as much as they’re allowing themselves to be enslaved by it. They’re not so much using money, as being used by it. As a result, they are separating themselves from God. For we cannot be the slave both of God and of money.

Swindling is also what we find in the story told by Jesus in the gospel. Except that, here, it is the rich man who is being swindled by his own steward, whom he had earlier sacked for being wasteful with his property. Yet when the rich man discovers his steward’s dishonesty, instead of taking him to court, and demanding full restitution, he praises him for his astuteness. Why? Could it be because the rich man realises that he himself stands to gain from the swindle? For isn’t it reasonable to expect that, by accepting less in his master’s name, the steward has raised his master’s reputation in the eyes of his debtors, who may decide to borrow even more from him? And when others hear of this, they too are likely to want to borrow from the rich man. Thus increasing the number of his customers, and making him even richer. So the rich man’s reaction may well be an example of sound business strategy. Like a shrewd hairdresser charging less, he’s willing to accept a strategic loss, in the hope of achieving a longer term gain.

But Jesus tells the story as a parable, not a case study. The lesson he seeks to impart is spiritual, rather than financial. Just as it makes good business sense for the rich man to accept less now, in order to build up his customer base, and make even more money in the long run, so too does it make good spiritual sense for us to use money to serve the poor while on earth, so as to be welcomed by them into eternity. The unspoken assumption is that the poor are friends of God. As the psalmist tells us, from the dungheap (the Lord) raises the poor, to set him in the company of princes. To serve the poor is really to serve the Lord himself.

Swindle, strategy and service. Three different ways of relating with money, with the poor and, ultimately, with God. Swindle, strategy and service. Don’t we continue to find all three in our world today? And not just among hairdressers. So what can we do to reduce the swindle, and increase the service? In the second reading, St Paul offers one basic way. My advice, he says, is that… there should be prayers offered for everyone… especially for kings and others in authority… Praying for those who may have power to safeguard the well-being of the most vulnerable, including Mother Earth herself.

Which brings to mind something Pope Leo XIV said in a recent interview. Asked about the polarisation we are witnessing in the world, the Pope saw fit to highlight one factor that he thinks is very significant. Namely, the ever widening gap between the income levels of the working class and the money that the wealthiest receive. For example, CEOs that 60 years ago might have been making four to six times more than what the workers are receiving, now make 600 times more…

Sisters and brothers, as important as it is to manage our own financial affairs strategically, what can we do to help reduce the swindling, and increase the service in our world today?

Resisting Resistance to Rehab

Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross

Readings: Numbers 21:4-9; Psalm 77 (78):1-2, 34-38; Philippians 2:6-11; John 3:13-17

Picture: By Simon Reza on Unsplash

My dear friends, do we still remember Amy Winehouse? The late British singer and songwriter is famous for having won 5 Grammy awards on a single night in 2008. 3 of those awards were for the hit single, Rehab. An autobiographical song about her own refusal to receive treatment for alcoholism. The song’s first line goes, They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said, "No, no, no”. Yet despite her initial resistance, Amy did check herself into a rehab facility. Only to lose her battle with addiction, and die from alcohol poisoning in 2011, at the tender age of twenty-seven. Leaving the world to mourn her tragic loss, and to wonder if there was anything that could have helped this talented young performer overcome her resistance to rehab, remain sober, and save her own life…

How to overcome resistance to rehab? Doesn’t the feast we are celebrating today invite us to ponder a similar question? For in the first reading, we’re told that the Israelites lost patience while making their way through the wilderness. And what is the wilderness, if not an ancient form of rehab? An unavoidable place of transition – a necessary crossing point – from slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land. A very challenging place to be, because this is where the people need to learn to let go of their attachment to the comforts of slavery, their craving for satisfying food. Here they have to endure the pains of withdrawal, the torment that comes with being weaned from one’s addictions. Pains that must feel to them like death itself, but which actually lead to a fuller life. Why did you bring us out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? What do we find in this angry query the people address to Moses, if not their resistance to rehab?

And what about those fiery serpents? Rather than a cruel punishment sent by a vindictive God, aren’t they more of a timely warning? A reminder to the people, that to return to Egypt, and to submit again to addiction, is to condemn themselves to certain death. Which may then explain why gazing upon the elevated, or exalted, bronze serpent, brings healing. Not so much because the image has any power in itself, but because of what it signifies. For all who gaze upon it with the proper dispositions, the bronze serpent is a helpful means to recall both the terrible consequences of addiction, and the loving care shown to them by their merciful God. Memories that then generate the strength needed to persevere through rehab, and to reach sobriety.

The wilderness as a place of crossing and challenge, and the elevated serpent as a reminder both of the consequences of addiction, and the care offered by God. Crossing and challenge, consequences and care. Don’t these elements of rehab provide the wider spiritual background for the feast we are celebrating today? Isn’t Jesus saying as much in the gospel, when he compares his own Crucifixion on Calvary to the raising of the serpent in the wilderness? Like that cold bronze statue, the Lord’s lifeless body will be elevated on a Cross to strengthen those who require rehab. Reminding us of both the terrible consequences of addiction, and the loving care offered by the God who refuses to let us go. Except that now the consequences and the care are increased by an infinite measure. For the Cross points not just to the consequences we ourselves have to bear, but also to those borne by God for our sake. As the second reading reminds us, Christ did not cling to his equality with God but emptied himself… even to accepting death on a cross… Death suffered at the hands of cruel men, angrily resisting rehab. But God raised him high. God glorified, exalted him…

Isn’t this the same life-giving memory we recall every time we celebrate the Eucharist? A memory from which we draw the strength we need both to undergo rehab, and to help others do the same. A memory that should be evoked not just here at Mass, or when we happen to look at a crucifix. But also every time we encounter those who suffer the effects of addiction. Both their own, and that of others. People enslaved by more obviously addictive stuff, like narcotics, alcohol and pornography. And also those who suffer the effects of addiction to less obviously dangerous things, like wealth and power, luxury and popularity, technology and work. As well as innocent lives torn apart by distant wars, or unjustly excluded from the benefits of economic growth, or tragically scarred by domestic abuse. And even Mother Earth herself, so ruthlessly exploited by corporate greed…

It has been said, by those who knew her, that Amy Winehouse saw the song Rehab as her own cry for help. If this is true, then could the Exaltation of the Holy Cross be God’s loving response? Not just to Amy, but to all who require and yet resist rehab? Sisters and brothers, how might we help one another better receive and live out of the power of this merciful and tender response today?

Getting Back Together

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Wisdom 9:13-18; Psalm 89 (90):3-6, 12-14, 17; Philemon 9-10, 12-17; Luke 14:25-33

Picture: By andri onet on Unsplash

Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh. We called it off again last night, but ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh. This time I’m telling you… we are never ever getting back together… Does anyone recognise these lines? I suspect a good number of us do. They’re taken from a popular Taylor Swift song. Addressed to an unworthy ex-boyfriend, with whom the singer has been in an on-again, off-again relationship, the song is a declaration that this is the end. We are never ever getting back together. But more than just calling it quits, the song also reveals what the singer is looking for in a steady relationship. The non-negotiable requirements that her ex seems unwilling or unable to meet. Despite repeatedly professing his love for her, he can’t accept the practical implications, the necessary repercussions of love. And by breaking up with him, the singer also reveals something about herself, who she is, what she values.

Relationship and revelation, requirements and repercussions. Don’t we find something similar in our scriptures today? The first reading paints a rather pathetic portrait of our shared human condition. One that closely resembles Taylor Swift’s ex. It tells us that, left to our own devices, we struggle to remain in right relationship with God. For on our own, we cannot divine the will of the Lord. We can’t figure out what God wants. Yet, instead of breaking up with us, God has not only mercifully revealed to us the non-negotiable requirements for relationship, God has also taken steps to help us meet them. By sending us Wisdom and the holy spirit from above, God has straightened our paths, so that we may walk more closely with God. So that we can truly be together.

Revealing to us the requirements for right relationship, and helping us to meet them. Isn’t this what Jesus is doing in the gospel? And yet, at first glance, the requirements he sets may seem far too onerous, even unreasonable. To hate not only the closest members of my family, but even my own life too? To carry my cross, and to give up all my possessions? Surely, any girl making such demands of a boyfriend will end up remaining single for the rest of her life! But God isn’t just any girl. For very shortly, as we do every Sunday, we will profess our common faith in God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, of all things visible and invisible… Enlightened by revelation, we believe not only that God is Creator, but also that we are all mere creatures. And a loving relationship between Creator and creature has its proper requirements and repercussions. For if God has created everything, then everything belongs to God. And God deserves first place in our lives and in our hearts. Our primary relationship with God should configure all our other relationships. This is not an unreasonable demand. It flows naturally from who God is, and who we are in relation to God.

But it’s important to bear in mind that, much as God isn’t just another girl, neither are we just any creature. The requirements set by Jesus in the gospel aren't for just any animal, plant or mineral. They are meant for the only creature (we currently know of) capable of becoming a disciple. The only one able to share in Christ’s mission of stewarding the rest of creation back into right relationship. Which is what St Paul is really doing in the second reading. At a time when the unjust institution of slavery was still accepted without question, Paul feels free to ask Philemon to treat Onesimus no longer as just another item of private property, but as an equal, a fellow Christian, a brother in the Lord. In effect, Paul is asking his friend to allow his primary relationship with God to properly configure all his other relationships, including his relationship with his slave.

All of which should help us better appreciate what the Season of Creation is really about. Why should we Christians bother to live more sustainably? To take care to reduce, re-use and recycle? It’s not just because, through generations, human exploitation has pushed Mother Earth to the brink. And stronger, more frequent typhoons, fires and floods are causing much suffering, especially to the most vulnerable. More fundamentally, it’s also because, as disciples of Christ, we are called to allow our primary relationship with the Lord to configure all our other relationships. Not just our relationships with other human beings, including those closest to us, but also our relationships with the rest of God’s creation. It's also because, according to our particular capacities and circumstances in life, we are all called to share in the Lord’s mission of restoring creation to right relationship with God.

Unlike that catchy Taylor Swift song, by setting out those sobering requirements in the gospel, the Lord isn’t really breaking up with us. Rather, he is calling us to rise to the challenge of discipleship. To draw from the graces offered at this Eucharist, and to reclaim our common dignity as stewards of God’s creation. Sisters and brothers, what can we do to help one another live up to this high calling today?