Most Important Word

6th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Ecclesiasticus 15:16-21; Psalm 118 (119):1-2, 4-5, 17-18, 33-34; 1 Corinthians 2:6-10; Matthew 5:17-37

Picture: By Glen Carrie on Unsplash

What is the most important word in the English language? Is it a verb or a noun? An article or a preposition? What do you think? To be honest, I don’t know. I wonder, though, whether a possible candidate might be found in the name of a popular local podcast. Has anyone here heard of Yah Lah But? I suspect a good number of us have. Anyway, in an interview given last year, this podcast’s two hosts explained the reason for its interesting name. Our goal, they said, is to encourage people to empathise with other perspectives, so we called our podcast “Yah Lah But”… To illustrate, in a recent episode, one of the hosts spoke light-heartedly about the frustration he experienced, while talking to foreigners he had met on an overseas trip. Upon hearing that he hailed from Singapore, they would typically gush with praise for our little island nation. Isn’t this the world’s best place to live? Don’t locals here enjoy 80% home ownership? In response, our host felt a burning need to offer some qualifications. To say, yah lah, but… Unfortunately, he wasn’t given a chance to do so. To use that important word but. To let this tiny 3-lettered conjunction lead his conversation partners to consider other, deeper, more nuanced perspectives.

Before we go any further, perhaps I should state that I’m not connected in any way to this podcast. Nor have I received any incentive––monetary or otherwise––to mention it at the pulpit. So why do it? The reason is simple. In our ongoing reading of Matthew’s gospel, we have reached that portion of Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount in which one word keeps recurring. Have you noticed what it is? Actually, it’s not just a word, but a distinctive pattern of speech or argument. Again and again, we hear the Lord say, You have learnt how it was said… But I say to you… Or, roughly translated into Singlish, yah lah… but… By repeatedly using the word but, the Lord invites his listeners––including all of us––to consider other, deeper, more nuanced perspectives on the Law. Not to abolish or to weaken it, but to complete it. To better achieve its purpose. So, according to Jesus, it’s not enough, simply to refrain from engaging in acts of murder and adultery. We also need to continually struggle against the violent tendencies, and the lustful appetites that so often stir deep within our all too human hearts. 

By using the word but, the Lord calls us to go beyond the superficial legalistic approach of the religious leaders of his day. Reminding us that if your virtue goes no deeper than that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never get into the kingdom of heaven. Why? Isn’t it because, for the sake of certainty and control, the scribes and Pharisees transform what is meant to be a living word into a dead letter? They distort the Law. Changing it from a life-giving expression of God’s merciful and steadfast love, into an oppressive burden. And isn’t it possible for us, whether we realise it or not, to adopt this same legalistic approach even when applying the Lord’s teaching?

Such as when victims of domestic abuse are encouraged, or subtly pressured, to reconcile with their abuser prematurely, while the abuse is still ongoing. Or when, for the sake of avoiding scandal, or to safeguard the reputation of the institution, credible reports of abuse in a church setting are simply ignored or covered up. After all, doesn’t Jesus say that reconciliation should take priority over even the bringing of offerings to God?… Sure, reconciliation is indeed important. But… is this truly the reconciliation intended by God, when it comes at the expense of the safety and wellbeing of those more vulnerable?

Of course, we cannot deny that a yah lah but approach likely means less certainty and control. Which may make it even more demanding. Difficult enough to struggle with the sinful tendencies in our own hearts. Now we also have to figure out what exactly the Law requires in concrete situations too? Are we even capable of doing this? From where do we obtain the wisdom it requires? These questions lead us to consider yet another instance of yah lah but. For the first reading tells us in no uncertain terms that we are all blessed with the freedom to do what is right. If you wish, you can keep the commandments… And yet, doesn’t our lived experience prompt us to add a but? Yes, we may have the freedom to keep the Law, but we struggle in vain to exercise that freedom without the help of God. Isn’t this why the psalmist prays so fervently that God will not only teach me the demands of your statutes, but also train me to observe your law, to keep it with my heart? And doesn’t this prayer find its full and definitive answer in Jesus himself? For it is in his Life, Death and Resurrection that we find what the second reading calls the hidden wisdom of God. And isn’t this what we are celebrating at this and at every Mass?

Truly, we cannot say for sure whether or not but is indeed the most important word in the English language. What we Christians can say, with a conviction born of faith, is that we believe in a Living Word, an Eternal Word, a Word-Made-Flesh, a Word who was Crucified, Died and was Raised for us, a Word that even now begs to be inscribed most tenderly upon our inmost heart. Sisters and brothers, what do we need to do to allow the power and wisdom of this Word to continue animating our lives, as individuals, as families, and as Church today?

Before the Bubble Bursts

4th Sunday of Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Zephaniah 2:3, 3:12-13; Psalm 145 (146):6-10; 1 Corinthians 1:26-31; Matthew 5:1-12a

Picture: By on Mayer Tawfik Unsplash

Uh-oh, we’re in trouble, something’s come along and it’s burst our bubble… Does anyone recall these words from a song released in the 1990s? Performed by a group named Shampoo, the song is about some teenagers, who’ve been out partying all night, and are now making their way home. Dreading the music they will have to face from their parents… The party was great, yeah, we were really thrilled. And when we get in, we’re gonna get killed… That’s the thing about bubbles. They can be great fun, while they last. But they don’t last. They’re insubstantial, fragile. Eventually the party ends, and we all have to go home.

Also, don’t some bubbles have a dark side? Financial bubbles, for example, are built on an illusion. Something that isn’t real. And when the bubble bursts, chaos ensues. Such as when a property bubble went bust in the US in the late 2000s, and contributed to the global financial crisis of 2008. And not just financial bubbles. Isn’t there something illusory about social bubbles too? As some experts have pointed out, in apparently meritocratic societies like ours, elites tend to think that they fully deserve their own success. While those who fail, deserve their failure. They just haven’t worked hard enough. But this is an illusion. What elites tend too easily to forget are all the fortuitous circumstances and structural advantages that have facilitated their success. And, in their forgetfulness, they end up living in a bubble that’s not just illusory, but also insular. They lose touch with, and compassion for, those less successful.

Nor are bubbles only financial or social. They can also be spiritual as well. Isn’t this what we find in our scriptures today? In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah speaks about the approach of an event of global significance. Something he calls the day of the anger of the Lord. It’s not clear exactly what he’s referring to. What is clear is that, on this day, God’s power will be made manifest, to the detriment of all who trust only in worldly things. All who rely only on their own efforts. All who operate under the illusion that they alone are the masters of their own destiny. God is going to burst their bubble. Sweep them away. Leaving behind the humble and lowly. Those who place their trust in God. Those who keep the Law of the Lord. Those who do good, and speak what is true. To prepare for this terrible day, Zephaniah calls not just the people of Israel, but all… the humble of the earth to seek the Lord. To obey his commands. To seek integrity and humility…

Similarly, we may recall that, in the gospel we heard last Sunday, Jesus began his public ministry by calling people to prepare for an event of global significance. Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is close at hand. The Reign of God is making itself felt in the world. And what will it be like when the kingdom arrives in its fullness? Isn’t this what Jesus is setting out today? The poor in spirit––those who recognise their utter need for God––will possess the kingdom. The gentle of heart––those who recoil from violence of every kind––will inherit the earth. The mournful––those who weep over the injustice they see around them––will be consoled. And so on… And it’s important for us to allow ourselves to be surprised and unsettled by just how incredible all this sounds. How contrary to the way our world is usually structured, and how our lives are typically organised. For like Zephaniah in the first reading, Jesus is proclaiming the bursting of a bubble. The eventual sweeping away of everything that’s built on the insubstantial, the illusory, and the insular.

But what to do if I myself am living in a bubble? If I happen to be more rich than poor in spirit, more violent than gentle of heart, more apathetic or, worse still, more arrogant and entitled than mournful? How to repent? Perhaps I might find what St Paul says in the second reading helpful. That it was to shame the wise that God chose what is foolish by human reckoning… to shame what is strong that he chose what is weak by human reckoning… And doesn’t God do this especially through the Cross of Christ? For if this is true, then perhaps what I can do, as an aid to repentance, is to keep gazing intently upon the Cross, and allow myself to be shamed by what I see. Not just the Cross I encounter here at Mass. But also the crosses that await me out in the world, in those who suffer. Those who have no bubble to insulate them from the harsh realities of life.

Which brings to mind Oxfam’s recently released annual report on global inequality. According to which, the world’s 12 richest billionaires (just the top 12) (now) have more wealth than the poorest half of humanity, or more than four billion people. Also, in a recent interview, former diplomat and law professor, Tommy Koh, saw fit to highlight the fact that, here in affluent Singapore, more than a hundred thousand seniors currently live alone in poverty. Unable to afford even a single hot meal a day. How can we accept this situation? He asks. Or, if we may rephrase the professor’s question, shouldn’t this make us feel ashamed?

Uh-oh, we’re in trouble, something’s come along and it’s burst our bubble… Sisters and brothers, from a spiritual point of view, it may actually be a blessing when certain bubbles burst. What can we do to help one another prepare for that event today?