1st Sunday of Advent (C)
Coffee, Karate and Christmas (II)

Readings: Jeremiah 33:14-16; Psalm 25:4-5, 8-9, 10, 14; 1 Thessalonians 3:12-4:2; Luke 21:25-28, 34-36

Picture: cc Mahadewa

Sisters and brothers, have you ever wondered why we begin a new church year the way we do? Why do we bother to spend four whole weekends of Advent, just to prepare for Christmas? Why don’t we simply do the same thing that others do on the 1st of January? Why not just dive straight into Christmas with a quick countdown and a bottle of bubbly? Although it may sound strange, I think the answer to these queries can be found by considering another question. Sisters and brothers, do you know the difference between coffee and karate?

As you may know, some years ago, Starbucks introduced a brand new product in the United States: instant coffee. And, as did earlier producers of instant coffee, Starbucks claimed that their instant coffee was as good, if not better, than the regular kind. To prove this, Starbucks invited people to take taste tests in their stores. I’m not a coffee drinker. And I don’t know the results of those tests. But if the claim is true, then coffee might well be something that we can enjoy instantly, without sacrificing quality.

But can we say the same for something like karate? Some of us may still remember the movie The Karate Kid. I mean the original version. Not the recent remake. In the movie, a teenager takes up karate to defend himself against a gang of bullies. But, although he’s very eager to learn, his teacher–who looks like a harmless little old man–keeps giving him ordinary household jobs to do. Paint the gate. Wax the car. Sand the wooden floor. At first, the boy is frustrated and impatient. Why is he wasting his time doing a maid’s work, while his bullies continue to improve their own fighting skills under another teacher? Why can’t he learn as quickly they seem to be doing?

It’s only later that the boy realises the truth. His chores were actually part of the training. For example, by repeatedly waxing the car, he was actually practicing the movements for defensive blocks. More importantly, his master was teaching him that karate is much more than about beating up an opponent in a fight. It’s also about discipline and perseverance, mercy and self-control. Things that his bullies had not learned. Even if they’d picked up some fancy moves rather quickly, theirs wasn’t the real thing. True karate requires much time, effort and self-sacrifice. Unlike coffee, there really is no such thing as instant karate.

And what about Christmas? Is Christmas more like coffee or karate? Well, it depends on whom you ask. Have you noticed, for example, how our local shopping malls have already started displaying Christmas decorations and lights? And playing Christmas music? Looking at how all these christmassy things seem to spring up almost overnight might make us think that, like coffee, Christmas too can be enjoyed instantly. But is this true? Is there really such a thing as instant Christmas?

Not if our Mass readings are anything to go by. While everything around us might lead us to think that Christmas has to do only with trees and tinsels, presents and parties, or even cribs containing statues of cuddly newborn babes, our readings remind us that it’s also about much more. Long before we hear anything about a baby born in a manger, the liturgy helps us to prepare for Christmas by reminding us about its deeper meaning. A meaning that has at least three parts.

The first part has to do with being saved from bullies. Recall what we heard in the first reading. The days are coming, says the Lord, when I am going to fulfil the promise I made… In those days Judah shall be saved and Israel shall dwell in confidence. To a small and insignificant race, a people constantly being bullied by larger, more powerful enemies, a people not unlike the Karate Kid, God promises safety and security.

And this promise is made also to us. Even if we may live in a relatively safe place, aren’t we still threatened by bullies of different kinds? Some of these bullies are more external. For example, rising costs of living. Or stressful living conditions, leading to all sorts of addictions. Or negligent employers, who house workers in bug-infested dormitories. Or misunderstandings with family and friends. Other bullies are more internal. Like greed and selfishness. Or the refusal to forgive. Or indifference towards the needs of the less fortunate. Whatever the form our bullies may take, Christmas is a celebration of how God comes to help us deal with them. But, if this is true, then we must first be able to identify these threats to our wellbeing. Who exactly are our bullies today?

But that’s not all. Advent has a second aspect. Not only does it give us the opportunity to identify our bullies, it also helps us to recognise the God who comes to deal with them. For God can show up in different ways. Sometimes in ways as surprising as a harmless looking old man, who just happens to be a karate master. And these appearances of God are not always as attractive as a cute little infant. In the gospel, for example, Jesus paints a terrifying picture of the circumstances surrounding his coming at the end of time. People will be dying of fear, he tells us, as they await what menaces the world... And then they will see the Son of Man coming in a cloud with power and great glory. And not just at the end of time. Even today, God often comes to us in surprising and unsettling ways. Such as when badly treated workers finally decide to go on strike. Advent is a time for us to learn to recognise and to welcome the God who may come among us in frightening ways.

But, for us to do all this–to identify our bullies and to recognise the God who comes to help us–we need to undergo training. This the third aspect of Advent. We need to learn to remain focused on God. To keep making our own the words of the psalm: Lord, make me know your ways... teach me your paths. Make me walk in your truth, and teach me: for you are God my saviour. We need to train to remain alert to the signs of God’s coming. In the words of Jesus, we need to stay awake praying at all times. We need to train also by leading Christ-like lives even as we continue to await God’s coming. Like the Thessalonians in the second reading, we need to learn to make more and more progress in the kind of life that we are meant to live. A life of love.

Sisters and brothers, it’s difficult to deny that we live in an instant world. Starbucks sells instant coffee. The internet give us access to instant information and instant friends. Many of us have developed very flexible thumbs from sending countless instant text messages. Of course, all this may not be a bad thing. Provided we remember that not everything can be obtained instantly. Some things need time and effort. Things like karate, of course. But also things like justice and peace and true friendship. As well as things like Christmas. Isn’t this why it’s important that we take very seriously this lovely and joyful season of Advent?

Sisters and brothers, how will you be spending your Advent this year? What will Christmas be like for you? Like coffee or karate?

Wedding Mass of Zhonghan & Teresa
Walk This Way...

Readings: Ecclesiasticus 26:1-4, 13-16; Psalm 103:8, 1-2, 3-4, 8-10, 11-12; Colossians 3:12-17; Matthew 5:1-12

Teresa and Zhonghan, dear friends, I have this vague recollection in my mind, of a scene from what must have been a comedy. Someone is knocking on the door of a mansion. And the butler goes to answer it. Now, the butler is a hunchback. So he’s bent over double, and has to shuffle his feet as he walks. He opens the door and greets the guest. Then he leads the guest into the house saying, walk this way. Obediently, the guest starts to imitate the butler. He too bends over double and proceeds to shuffle his feet. Walk this way, he was told. And that’s exactly what he does.

It’s a funny scene, because the phrase walk this way has, of course, two different meanings. The meaning the butler probably intended is the more obvious one. He wanted the guest to follow him into the house. To walk in the same direction. But the guest misunderstood. He thought he was being asked to imitate the butler’s manner of walking. Walk this way. Two different meanings. Exploited to comic effect.

But perhaps we may wonder whether it really matters that the guest misunderstood. That he got the butler’s meaning wrong. After all, right or wrong, the guest ended up entering the house anyway, didn’t he? Well, yes he did. But, if only he had understood correctly, he wouldn’t have had to suffer such discomfort. To bear such a heavy burden. Imagine having to walk like a hunchback all through a large mansion. If only he had understood what was meant, the guest would have entered the house in a far more natural and dignified manner. Walk this way. It really does make a difference how the invitation is understood.

I bring this up because today, with great joy, we have come together to usher you, Zhonghan and Teresa, through the doorway of holy matrimony. And, as we do this, the scripture readings, which you have chosen for the occasion, seem to be telling us exactly what the butler told his guest. Walk this way. If you wish to enjoy a happy and godly marriage, walk this way. And yet, we do need to be careful how we interpret the scriptures. For it is possible to misunderstand. And, in misunderstanding, to burden ourselves far more than we have to.

Take the first reading, for example. At first glance, it seems that it’s mainly concerned with the good wife. Or, to use more gender inclusive language, with the good spouse. The reading appears to be nothing more than a list of directions, telling a spouse how s/he should act in a marriage. S/he should be beautiful and graceful. Like the sun rising over the mountains. S/he should be modest and chaste. S/he should even be perfect. And, perhaps most noteworthy of all, s/he should be silent. Now I’m not sure how you, Teresa or Zhonghan, feel about all this. But it does seem to me–man of little faith that I am–that if we were to understand the passage this way, we would make married life far more burdensome that it can be. For the passage doesn’t seem to tell us from where a spouse is to find the strength to meet all these apparent demands. How is a wife or a husband to do all these things? And for the whole duration of the marriage. For the rest of their lives together.

Is there then perhaps another meaning that we are missing? Can the reading be understood differently? I think it can. For although the passage offers a rather detailed description of the good spouse, s/he is not really its main focus. Notice what is said in the third sentence: A good wife is the best of portions, reserved for those who fear the Lord. In other words, a good spouse is not really something that one becomes through strenuous effort and sheer force of will. Rather is the good spouse, above all, a gift from God. The best of portions. A precious blessing. Bestowed upon those who fear the Lord. Upon those who strive to put God first in their lives. The focus of the reading, then, is less on what one’s spouse should do than it is on the relationship that one needs to cultivate with God. In all things, one needs to fear the Lord. Which is not to say, of course, that one shouldn’t try to be a good spouse. Of course, one should! But the first concern is not with the performance of one’s spouse, or even of oneself, but rather with one’s relationship with God.

We find a similar concern in the second reading too. Notice how, at first glance, the passage seems to be all about what a Christian should do. How a Christian should act. One needs to be clothed with sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience. One needs to put on the garment of forgiveness and of love. All this is, of course, very important. We do need to be virtuous. But, on closer inspection, we find that this garment of virtue is not something that we manufacture for ourselves. For the reading goes on to say that we should let the message of Christ, in all its richness, find a home in us. And that we should do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus. It’s only in this way that we have access to all the virtues. In other words, in my life, I must first do whatever I can to keep letting God in. Only then will the virtues start flowing out in abundance.

Isn’t this also what you, Teresa and Zhonghan, are trying to remind us, through your choice of the gospel reading. Isn’t this what the beatitudes are all about? Contrary to what we may think at first, the gospel reading is not exactly a list of things to do. Much less a summary of key performance indicators. The focus here is not really on our performance. What does it really mean to be gentle and poor in spirit? To be mournful and merciful? To be pure and peaceful and persecuted? Rather than means of exerting our own strength, aren’t these, above all, ways of humbly acknowledging our weakness? Instead of anxious assertions of power and control, are the beatitudes not rather humble admissions of our own helplessness and need? And isn’t this precisely the secret of Christian marriage? And not just of Christian marriage, but of the whole Christian life? The virtues that we need to live this life we are unable to produce for ourselves. We must receive them from God. And we receive better, when we first learn to accept our weakness. And to find our strength in God. How happy are the poor in spirit: theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

This, then, my dear friends, is the way that our scripture readings are proposing to us today. This is the road that leads to the fullness of life–including the fullness of married life–in Christ Jesus our Lord. This is the path that we need to keep traversing together. Supporting one another in prayerful and joyful companionship in the days ahead. This is the doorway through which, together with Teresa and Zhonghan, the Lord is leading us in this joyful celebration.

My dear friends, Teresa and Zhonghan, how ready are we to do whatever it takes to walk this way today?

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
Resting Where We Wake Up Safe

Readings: Daniel 12:1-3; Psalm 15:5,8-11; Hebrews 10:11-14,18; Mark 13:24-32

Picture: cc Tobyotter

Sisters and brothers, where were you when you awoke from sleep this morning? Where did you find yourself? How did you feel? What did you see? Very likely, most of us awoke to find ourselves nestled in the comfort of our own beds. Perhaps cuddling a pillow or two. Enjoying the delightful combination of coolness and warmth between our sheets. Gradually rousing ourselves from the misty shadows of sleep into the brightening dawn of wakefulness. And, most probably, when we did finally open our eyes, we were greeted by the sight of safe and familiar surroundings. Nothing surprising to alarm us. Nothing unpleasant to disturb us. Nothing scary to frighten us...

But not everyone wakes up like this. At least not all the time. There are also people who are sometimes jolted into consciousness to find themselves in very uncomfortable places. Very embarrassing, even painful, positions. And I don't mean people who live in war zones. Or those who are too poor to afford a roof over their heads. Some of us may have seen the photographs recently posted on a local news website. Pictures of people who had a little too much to drink. Well, actually, much more than a little. I believe the technical term is wasted. One picture shows a person lying unconscious on the floor of an MRT train. A trail of his own urine behind him. Another is a picture of someone passed out on a toilet seat. His pants pulled down to his knees. I think you get the general idea...

Some people wake up well. And others don’t. Some of us awaken feeling safe and secure. Others, hungover and humiliated. And we know the reason for the difference, don’t we? How we rise to wakefulness is often determined by where we choose to lie down to rest. Unless someone else moves us, if we fall asleep in our beds, that’s where we’ll find ourselves when we wake up. But, to be fair, no one really chooses to spend the night on the floor of an MRT train. Much less soaking in a pool or urine, or naked on a toilet seat. People end up in such uncomfortable places, only because they try to find rest somewhere else. Not in any particular physical location. But in the delightful mental and emotional bliss brought on by intoxication. They choose to find rest in the pleasures of drink. And, as we all know very well, this is a feeling that does not last. Unlike a cosy bed, which supports us throughout the night and into the morning, the high we get from the mouth of a bottle very quickly abandons us. Leaves us stranded. Often in the strangest and most embarrassing of places.

For many of us, how we awaken depends upon where we choose to find rest. This too is the lesson that our Mass readings are trying to teach us on this second to last Sunday of Ordinary Time. Next week, as you know, we will celebrate the Solemn Feast of Christ the King. As we ready ourselves for the end of the Church’s liturgical year, our Mass readings invite us to carefully prepare ourselves for the end of time. But what will the end of time look like? The first reading describes it in terms of people waking up from sleep. There is going to be a time of great distress, we are told. And, of those who lie sleeping in the dust of the earth, many will awake, some to everlasting life, some to shame and everlasting disgrace. Not just in our own day, but even at the end of time, some people will wake up well, and others very poorly. Some will find safety. Others disgrace.

And what makes all the difference is where people choose to find rest. Disgrace is found by those who seek refuge only in passing things. Things that do not last. Things like material wealth and success. Or popularity and good looks. Fast cars and faster computers. Big houses and bigger egos. In time, like the high that comes from a few stiff drinks, all these things will pass away. And not just these things. In the gospel, Jesus goes so far as to say that even heaven and earth will pass away. Everything about this fleeting life will eventually be no more. Even this beautiful church of ours, in which we take such pride. There will come a time when it will no longer be here. But, if this is true, where then are we to seek rest? How then are we to find safety when we finally wake up from sleep?

The responsorial psalm provides the answer. I keep the Lord ever in my sight, the psalmist declares. Since he is at my right hand, I shall stand firm. And so my heart rejoices, my soul is glad; even my body shall rest in safety. The only truly restful space, the only ultimately safe place, is to be found in God alone. More specifically, we really only arrive at true safety when we rest in Christ Jesus our Lord. For, as he tells us in the gospel, although heaven and earth will pass away, my words will not pass away. And the second reading explains why this is so. For unlike the ineffective sacrifices offered by the priests of the Old Covenant, Jesus has offered himself in one single sacrifice, by virtue of which he has achieved the eternal perfection of all whom he is sanctifying. Of you and of me. The Lord’s words do not pass away, because they are not mere words. They are matched by his single act of undying love. The selfless sacrifice of the eternal Word of God on the rugged wood of the cruel Cross.

The Cross of Christ. For us who are Christian, to find safety is to seek rest nowhere else than at this most uncomfortable place. But how do we know, sisters and brothers, where exactly it is we are seeking our rest? One way to find out is, of course, to ask ourselves what are the things we do not have, but for which we crave? Or what are the things that we do have, and to which we cling? Consider our cravings and our clingings. What are they? Are they truly enduring things? Or are they, like everything else apart from God, doomed eventually to pass away? Another way is to pay attention to our reactions to trials and temptations, to failures and setbacks. When we encounter such unpleasant experiences, what do we do? Do we allow our anger and disappointment to get the better of us? Even to turn us away from following the Lord? Or do we use such experiences as opportunities to accompany our Blessed Mother, as she stands at the foot of the Cross, gazing upon the bruised and bloodied face of her dying glorious Son?

Sisters and brothers, the same holds true in the spiritual life as in the material. How we awaken often depends upon where we seek our rest.

Where are you seeking your rest today?

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (B)
Seeing with New Eyes

Readings: 1 Kings 17:10-16; Psalm 146:7, 8-9, 9-10; Hebrews 9:24-28; Mark 12:38-44 or 12:41-44

Picture: cc kphotographer

Sisters and brothers, have you ever had the occasion to revise your opinion about something or someone? Let’s say, for example, that you always thought that a certain friend of yours was a little proud or aloof, because she didn’t like to join you and the rest of your friends on your regular outings. Then, one day, you discover the reason for your friend’s apparent antisocial behaviour. She has to care for one of her children, who is in hospital with a terminal illness. On learning this, you’ll probably, quite naturally, begin to see your friend in a new light. And perhaps even treat her differently. There is a Chinese idiom that describes such situations quite well. Ling yan xiang kan (另眼相看). Literally, this means to see something or someone with another set of eyes.

I mention this, because I think that this is precisely what we need to do with those two poor widows in our Mass readings today. Both the Sidonian woman of the first reading and the woman in the treasury of the Temple in the gospel. We need to ling yan xiang kan. We need to look at them with new eyes.

First, let’s consider the woman in the gospel. How do we usually see her? Well, our usual approach–my usual approach–is to think of her as a model to be praised and imitated. For poor as she was, she willingly contributed everything she possessed, all she had to live on towards the upkeep of the Temple in Jerusalem. The rich may have donated much more in absolute terms, but she, even at great cost to herself, gave 100 percent. The same can be said for the widow in the first reading. She is just as heroic and worthy of imitation. In a time of drought and famine, even though she and her son are themselves close to starving to death, she willingly shares the little food she has with the prophet Elijah.

And what is even more impressive, even more worthy of our praise and imitation, is the attitude that motivates the generosity of these two women. Both widows are willing to sacrifice everything, even at the risk of losing their own lives, because they have placed all their trust in God. In the words of the responsorial psalm, they believe that their God is the Lord who keeps faith for ever, who is just to those who are oppressed… who gives bread to the hungry. So firm is their belief that God will care for them that they are willing to give everything they have for the sake of others. Aren’t these women true heroes? Shouldn’t we try our best to imitate them? In our own lives as Christians, shouldn’t we keep striving to be just as generous, just as trusting, just as heroic? Of course we should!

And yet, isn’t there also something crucially important that gets left out when we see the widows only as models for imitation? Isn’t it important that we also learn to see them with new eyes? For, as heroic as they are, aren’t these women also, in a sense, victims? Aren’t they themselves in need of a hero to save them too? Isn’t this precisely what they are hoping for from God? To gain a better appreciation of this, however, we need to consider more closely the background in the Bible against which each of these stories is set.

In the first reading, for example, the widow is suffering because of a drought. And it’s important to remember that this drought is not a random occurrence. The prophet Elijah himself has caused it. Following the instructions of God, Elijah has called down a drought on the land because of the sinful behaviour of Ahab, the king of Israel, who has turned to the worship of idols. So the widow–who, by the way, is not an Israelite, but a gentile, living in the Sidonian town of Zarephath–is suffering because of the sins of God’s chosen people. The people of Israel have sinned, and the poor widow is among those who are paying the price. Her heroic sacrifice is necessary only because the chosen people have become corrupt.

We find something similar in the gospel as well. As some scripture scholars remind us, the story of the widow’s mite comes immediately after Jesus’ criticism of the scribes, who swallow the property of widows, while making a show of lengthy prayers. Against this background, Jesus may well be drawing his disciples’ attention to the widow’s generous contribution, not just as conduct worthy of imitation and praise–although it is surely that–but also as a situation to be lamented. As a problem needing to be addressed.

Why, we may ask, should a poor widow, struggling to keep body and soul together, be expected to donate her very last two coins toward the maintenance of the Temple? Shouldn’t the Temple be providing for her upkeep instead? Isn’t her situation a concrete illustration of how the administrators of the Temple are swallowing the property of widows, while making a show of lengthy prayers? More than just a heroic model for us to imitate, isn’t this poor woman also an oppressed victim crying out for our help? And, in this bad situation, like Elijah before him, Jesus appears as someone sent by God to speak up for the oppressed. To call the victimisers to repentance. And it is because Jesus does this, that he will end up losing his life.

Seen in this light, the two women in our Mass readings become more than just models for us to imitate. They are also victims for us to help and to defend. Just as Elijah and Jesus helped and defended them. And how crucially important are the words and actions of Elijah and Jesus! For, if not for the willingness of Elijah and Jesus to speak out and to act on behalf of them, these poor widows will have to keep suffering. And not just them, but also others like them, who may be forced to live under difficult conditions not of their own making. Like the high priest mentioned in the second reading, all such oppressed people will keep having to offer their sacrifices repeatedly, until other people are able and willing to see them in a new light. Able and willing to speak up for them. Even to sacrifice and to lay down their lives for them. As Jesus does for us. Once and for all.

And isn’t it true that people like these two widows remain with us even in our world today? We only need to have the eyes to see them. The hearts to feel for them. And the hands to reach out to them. People who may impress and inspire us with their lives of quiet selfless sacrifice on behalf of others. People oppressed by economic systems and social structures beyond their control. People who need our help, so that their sufferings, and the sufferings of others like them, can eventually come to an end.

Sisters and brothers, are there perhaps some of these people in your life too? And is it perhaps time for us to look at them with new eyes? Time for us to ling yan xiang kan today?

Wedding Mass of Roberto & Marina

When Clothes Make the Marriage

Readings: Genesis 1:26-28, 31; Psalm 33; Colossians 3:12-17; Matthew 19:3-6

Clothes make the man. Sisters and brothers, I think you’ve probably heard this proverb before, right? Clothes make the man (or woman). You know what it means. The proverb refers to how, for better or for worse, we often judge one another by our appearances. By the clothes we wear. Which is not always a good thing, because it can lead to mistakes being made. For example, a person who may dress very poorly–because he feels comfortable in old and worn-out clothes–may in fact be very rich. But, despite this risk of mistakes, isn’t there still a sense in which the proverb may actually be true?

Clothes make the man. Isn’t it true that the way we dress does actually have an effect on how we feel? On how we carry and conduct ourselves? We see this most clearly, of course, in the comic books. For example, dressed in ordinary street clothes, Tony Stark is just an arrogant but brilliant billionaire. But once he puts on his suit of armour, he is transformed into Ironman, superhero extraordinaire. But it’s not just the superheroes who experience this. We do too, don’t we? Putting on a smart well-tailored suit, for example, may help a corporate executive to feel and act confident and successful. Just as my wearing of these religious vestments can help me and the congregation to enter more deeply into worship. And perhaps we may also ask Marina how she feels in her beautiful wedding dress. Or Roberto, in his stylish suit. Very likely, donning these special forms of dress does in fact help them to enter more deeply into the joyful mystery of matrimonial union that we are gathered here to celebrate today. What does this tell us, sisters and brothers, if not that, like Ironman’s armour, the clothes we wear can give us power of some sort.

Clothes make the man. There is indeed a sense in which this is true. And I mention this only because, through the readings that they have chosen for this happy occasion, Marina and Roberto seem to be reminding us of something very similar. Consider what we heard in the second reading from the letter to the Colossians. Notice how the reading begins: You are God’s chosen race, his saints; he loves you, and you should be clothed in sincere compassion, in kindness and humility, gentleness and patience... You should be clothed… What is the writer doing, sisters and brothers, if not describing for us a spiritual dress code. A uniform of goodness to be worn by all those that God has chosen to be saints of God. This is neither a tuxedo nor an evening dress, but a suit made up of spiritual virtues of different kinds. Compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience... And this uniform of goodness bestows on the wearer a special power. The virtues that make up this suit help the members of the community not just to remain united among themselves, but also, and most importantly, to remain close to Christ.

Not only do clothes make the man. Clothes also make the saint. And clothes make the church. But that’s not all. There is something more. Something more specific. For, if it is true that this uniform of goodness makes both the saint and the church, then it must follow that it also has the power to make a marriage. If it is true that the virtues of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience do confer power to unite a community, then it stands to reason that they have the power also to unite two different people in holy matrimony. Even to bind them so closely together that–in the words of Jesus to the Pharisees in the gospel–the man and the woman become no longer two but one body.

Not only do clothes make the saint. Not only do clothes make the church. Clothes also make the marriage. This is the lesson that you, Marina and Roberto, are proposing to us today. The power to preserve and nurture the marriage bond comes from putting on the uniform of goodness, the suit of virtue described in the second reading. But, as those among us who have been married for some time will probably be able to testify, this is easier said than done. It’s not always easy to be kind and humble, gentle and patient with another. Especially when work pressures increase, or when the baby comes along, or when illness knocks on our door. In challenging times like these, from where am I to find patience, when it appears that I’m filled with nothing but bad temper? From where am I to find kindness, when my tongue is just itching to say something critical or sarcastic? From where am I to find the virtues that together make up this uniform of goodness that I’m supposed to be wearing?

Even if it’s true, sisters and brothers, that clothes makes a marriage, the question remains, from where are we to find this clothing? Are we to manufacture it for ourselves? The first reading provides us with a hint of an answer by reminding us of two things. First, that God created us in God’s own image and likeness. And, second, that when God saw everything that he created, God found it to be very good. From where, then, are we to find the uniform of goodness, if not from the hand of God. And if this is true, then it’s important for us to remember that a vibrant marriage depends not just on us, but especially on God.

In order, then, for the bond of marriage to grow and deepen, attention needs to be paid not just to one’s relationship to one’s spouse and to one’s immediate family, but also to one’s relationship to God, as well as to the wider community. For as the response to the psalm tells us, the earth is full of the goodness of God. On days when my own goodness is in short supply. On days when my own patience is at an end. On days when kindness seems missing from my heart. Still all is not lost. For God remains the Source of all Goodness. If only I have the time and the humility to ask. And not just from God, but also from friends and relatives. From all of you, who have gathered here this afternoon, to show your support for Marina and Roberto. To express your friendship.

Clothes make the marriage. And God alone is the Divine Seamstress, providing us with the virtues that unite us in a bond of love. Sisters and brothers, as we celebrate this joyous occasion, how might we continue to clothe ourselves with the goodness that God offers us today?