Disappearing Dishes

7th Sunday of Easter (A)
(60th World Day of Social Communications)

Readings: Acts 1:12-14; Psalm 26 (27):1, 4, 7-8; 1 Peter 4:13-16; John 17:1-11

Picture: By Chell on Unsplash

Does anyone here use the PIE and BKE regularly? Those who do may have noticed a big change at the place where these expressways meet. The two large satellite dishes that once graced that intersection have disappeared. About a month ago, a spokesperson for Singtel was reported as saying that the dishes were dismantled earlier this year, to make way for future infrastructure… (to) support… evolving connectivity needs… So it seems that, while the dishes are gone, the purpose they once served is set to endure, through the new structures that will soon replace them. Even so, their removal evoked passionate reactions online, with many expressing nostalgia for what they described as a distinctive and enduring landmark. Questioning why the dishes were not preserved… A changing place, an enduring purpose, and a call for preservation. Don’t we find something similar in our celebration today?

Although the scriptures don’t quite spell it out, tradition has it that the events described in both the first reading and the gospel occur at the same location. The place that the Acts of the Apostles calls the upper room, is also believed to be where Jesus gathers his disciples to eat the Last Supper, the setting for today’s gospel. And yet, like that junction where the PIE and BKE meet, it’s clear that between the gospel and the first reading, this place sees a big change. What is the change? In the gospel, the spotlight falls on a single face. The air is filled with the sound of one specific voice. None other than the face and the voice of Jesus himself. Like a spiritual satellite dish, Jesus is the one who facilitates true connectivity with God. It is through him, and in him, that authentic communication signals between God and humanity are both received and transmitted. Yet by the time we get to the first reading, Jesus is no longer seen or heard in the upper room, at least not in the same way as before. Instead, the spotlight shines on many other faces. The air is filled with many other voices. People named and unnamed. Both men and women. All disciples, obediently following the instructions of their Crucified, Risen & Ascended Lord.

Even so, despite this noticeable change, something yet endures. Something important. Even essential. It’s likely no coincidence that the disciples in the first reading are engaged in the exact same activity as Jesus in the gospel. They are praying. A sign that the Divine Purpose, which Jesus served while on earth, lives on in and through them. Isn’t this what the Spirit empowers them, and us, to do? To keep serving the same purpose that Jesus served? To be the new receivers and transmitters of God’s glory on the face of this earth. The spiritual infrastructure of connectivity between God and Creation. Not just through the prayers we offer, but also and especially through the lives we lead. Not just as individuals, but also and especially as a consecrated community. The Body of Christ. Extending beyond life in this world, to what awaits us beyond. 

Isn’t this why the second reading encourages us to be grateful to God, whenever we may have to suffer for bearing the name of Christ? For when this happens, we are being given a share in the sufferings of Christ himself. And painful though such experiences may be, they are signs that we have with us the Spirit of glory, the Spirit of God resting on us. That we are continuing to serve the Lord’s purpose. Isn’t this the paradoxical call that is addressed to us? At once to embrace change, and to ensure preservation. To accept the role of being the Lord’s new way of being present in the world. So as to preserve his purpose of receiving and transmitting God’s glory. Not merely out of a sense of nostalgia, but because this is our dignity, our vocation.

A changing place, an enduring purpose, and a call for preservation. Beyond satellite dishes and the sacred scriptures, don’t we find these same things in the wider world? On the one hand, to say that the world is changing, is to state the obvious. The stable global order we once enjoyed is unravelling. And much as the rapid advance of technology, including the advent of artificial intelligence, is bringing us many benefits, there are also new challenges. Such as a worsening climate crisis, growing wealth inequality, job insecurity, and an ever-accelerating, stress-inducing pace of life. With dire consequences for our physical, mental and spiritual well-being. More fundamentally, doesn’t it seem more difficult to remember what it means to be human? To distinguish truth from falsehood? To keep seeking the good, while rejecting evil?

And yet, the gospel reminds us that humanity does indeed have a purpose. That we are made for life in its fullness. The same life that Jesus died and rose again to secure for us. And eternal life is this: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you have sent. Isn’t this why it’s appropriate that the theme chosen for our Pope’s message, on the occasion of the 60th World Day of Social Communications, is Preserving Human Voices and Faces? And what better way to do this than by first seeking and contemplating the face of Christ? By first hearing and heeding the consoling yet challenging sound of his voice?

Sisters and brothers, if the disappearance of two rusty satellite dishes can evoke such feeling, how might the Lord’s call move us to help preserve what is truly human in our world today?