Through the Haze

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

(World Mission Sunday)

Readings: Isaiah 45: 1, 4-6; Psalm 95 (96): 1, 3-5, 7-10; 1 Thessalonians 1: 1-5; Matthew 22: 15-21
Picture: By Lizgrin F on Unsplash

What can we do about this haze? Realistically, there probably isn’t much we can do to stop it. But does this mean we should do nothing? Simply carry on as usual? Perhaps even add to the pollution, by going out into the haze, and puffing defiantly on a cigarette? Isn’t it true that not being able to stop something, doesn’t mean we can’t or shouldn’t take steps to reduce its bad effects on us? Steps like learning how to read the signs. To know, for example, the difference between the 24-hour PSI and the 1-hour PM2.5 readings. Where to check them, and what to do or refrain from doing, when they reach certain levels. Reading the signs may also help us realise an important truth. Namely, that we’re not completely helpless. Nor are we alone. And that there are useful resources on which we can rely. Our own, as well as those provided by others. Windows we can close, masks we can wear, purifiers we can use, public spaces we can share… All of which may help us respond more appropriately. Instead of just doing nothing… Reading the signs, realising the truth, relying on resources, so as to respond better. Don’t we find something similar in our scriptures today?

More than just a speech addressed by God to a foreign king, what we find in the first reading is a people who have been languishing for decades in the hazardous haze of exile, in faraway Babylon. Painfully aware that their exile is not just political, but also spiritual. For they have come to see that they are reaping the fruits of their own idolatry. But then, one day, their captors are conquered by the Persians. And the new king, Cyrus, decides to allow them to return and rebuild their home. Even providing them with what they need to do so. And the people learn to read this development as a sign. Allowing them to realise a consoling truth. That despite being a pagan, Cyrus has been called and anointed by God. He is the chosen instrument through whom God is protecting and providing for them. Which implies that even in the hazy darkness of exile, they are not alone. Their God is with them, forgiving them, caring for them. What they need to do is rely on the resources being made available to them, so as to respond appropriately. Not just by returning and rebuilding their home, but by repenting from their sin. By turning away from idolatry, so as to worship and praise the One True God. To give the Lord glory and power…

In the gospel too, we find a people living under the hazardous haze of foreign rule. A haze that’s the result not just of their own military weakness, but also of their spiritual fragility. Their idolatry and infidelity. And again, God refuses to forsake them. God sends a Messiah, a Christ, an Anointed One, on a mission of mercy. A mission to save them, by proclaiming the coming of God’s kingdom, and calling them to repent. But, as we heard in the gospel read three Sundays ago, although the tax collectors and prostitutes –– the public sinners –– were quick to heed God’s call, the religious leaders were not. So for the last three Sundays, Jesus has been telling them parables designed to soften and enlighten their hearts. Stories that are also signs pointing them to the path of repentance. But they fail to read the signs. They refuse to realise who Jesus is. They reject the Anointed Resource provided by God for sinners to rely on. Rather than responding positively to God’s call, in today’s reading, they seek to trap him with a dangerous question.

All of which should help us appreciate the significance of what Jesus says to them in reply: give back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar – and to God what belongs to God. Rather than drawing a hard line strictly separating the realm of politics from that of religion, Jesus is implicitly highlighting a central truth of our faith. The same truth found at the end of the first reading. Where God tells the great Persian conqueror, I am the Lord, unrivalled; there is no other God besides me…. apart from me all is nothing. Which may lead us to recall the opening words of the Creed we will shortly stand to profess together: I believe in one God… Not two or three or none, but one God. Apart from whom, all is nothing. All, including me. Could it be that it’s only when I learn to accept and to live according to this great truth, that I can then see clearly enough to consider other questions? Not just whether or not to pay taxes to Caesar, but also what career to choose for myself… Whether to marry… How many children to have… How much tuition to provide them…  How to spend my retirement… What to do with my wealth… How to face the inevitability of my own diminishment and death…

The ability to accept and to live out the practical implications of our belief in one God, who loves and cares for us. Isn’t this also what St Paul is describing in the second reading? Where he highlights what for him is the sure sign that the Thessalonians have been chosen by God. Namely, that the Good News has come to them not only as words, but as power and as the Holy Spirit and as utter conviction. The power to see through the confusing haze of everyday life, in order to recognise the face of Christ –– the Anointed One sent by the One True God –– and to follow him. What is Christian mission, if not to experience and live out of this very power, and to help others do the same?

Sisters and brothers, how is the Lord calling us to respond to the different kinds of haze we may encounter today?

Bridging the Gap

27th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Isaiah 5: 1-7; Psalm 79 (80): 9, 12-16, 19-20; Philippians 4: 6-9; Matthew 21: 33-43

Picture: By Miguel Ángel Díaz on Unsplash

How do we bridge the gap? As some of us may have heard, this is a crucially important question posed by the results of two local studies released over the last fortnight. One on fertility, and the other on parental attitudes toward the education of children. The fertility study, jointly conducted by Thomson Medical and NUS, found that up to 84% of young adults in Singapore (aged 18-39) actually aspire to have at least one child. So why does our total fertility rate remain so low? What’s keeping our young people from acting on their aspirations? The study on education, conducted by the Institute of Policy Studies, uncovered something similar. An overwhelming 90% of parents surveyed agreed that children in Singapore already spend too much time on tuition and enrichment. And yet 70% of them still said they would spend more on tuition and enrichment if they had the resources to do so. As with fertility, so too with parenting. Somehow, the right attitude isn’t getting translated into appropriate action. Why? And how to bridge the gap?

Efforts to bridge a gap of some sort. Isn’t this what we find in our scriptures today? The first reading presents us with what’s advertised as a love song, but sounds more like a lament. For it tells of how the people of Judah––symbolised by a delinquent vineyard––have fallen far short of God’s legitimate expectations. Despite having been carefully cultivated by its owner, the vineyard has yielded sour or wild grapes. Despite having enjoyed so much favour from the Lord, the people have not lived justly. They have, instead, oppressed the poor and vulnerable among them. Causing these to cry out to God in distress. In response, God resolves to let the people face the consequences of their wickedness. Exposing them to their enemies’ attacks. Not so much to punish them, as to help them see and change the folly of their ways. To help them bridge the gap between their own sinful actions and God’s loving intentions for them.

In the gospel too, Jesus tells a parable about a disappointing vineyard. Except that, this time, it’s not the vineyard itself that’s the problem, but its wayward leadership. The arrogant, greedy and entitled tenants to whom the vineyard is entrusted. To more fully appreciate the significance of this parable, it’s helpful to consider its context in Matthew’s gospel. For many weeks now, we have been following Jesus and his disciples as they travelled together to Jerusalem. After the reading we heard two Sundays ago, the Lord went on to predict, for a third time, that in Jerusalem, he would be handed over to his enemies, be killed by them, and then be raised from the dead. That was in chapter 20. Chapter 21 begins with Jesus finally entering Jerusalem as a king, humbly riding on a donkey. After which he promptly enters the temple and drives out all those doing business there. Which prompts the religious leaders to challenge him. To ask him by what authority he does such things. The parable of the two sons, which we heard last week, and the parable of the wicked tenants, which we are considering today, can be seen as part of the Lord’s response to this challenge.

Whereas the tax collectors and prostitutes, the public sinners, had heeded John the Baptist’s call to repentance, the religious leaders have not. Instead, like those wicked tenants, they persist in misappropriating the fruits of the vineyard. And to preserve their privileged position, they will even go to the extent of plotting to kill Jesus, the owner’s son. In response, God will depose them, and entrust the vineyard to others. But not out of any vindictive desire to bring those wretches to a wretched end. In the reading, these dark words are spoken not by Jesus, but by the leaders themselves. No, as in the first reading, God’s aim is not so much to punish or to seek vengeance, but simply to help God’s people bridge the gap between their own wretched state and God’s loving intentions for them.

To be fair, not all failures are due to wickedness and greed. As the recent studies on fertility and parenting seem to show, sometimes even though we have the best of intentions, and the highest of aspirations, other factors may still prevent us from translating these into action. Factors like fear and anxiety, for example. Isn’t this where the second reading can be helpful? For here, we find St Paul––one of the new tenants to whom the vineyard was entrusted––teaching the early Christians how to bridge the gap between anxiety and true peace. Encouraging them to do three things. First to pray. There is no need to worry, but if there is anything you need, pray for it… Next, to ponder. To fill your minds with everything that is true… noble… good and pure… And then, to practice. To keep doing all the things you have learnt from me… and have heard or seen me do… To imitate Paul’s example. The same Paul, who now sits in prison for preaching the gospel. And who, in letters to other Christians, has emphasised the importance of mutual assistance, of caring for, and sharing one’s resources with, those most in need (eg, 2 Cor 8-9). Prayer, pondering and practice. This is how the peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus… For Christ is the ultimate Bridge crossing the immense gap between our weakness and God’s strength, between our failures and God’s dreams for us.

Sisters and brothers, what possible gaps might our Crucified and Risen Lord be helping and inviting us to bridge today?