Thursday in the 18th Week of Ordinary Time (II)
Feast of St. Lawrence, Deacon, Martyr
Generosity and Martyrdom

Readings: 2 Corinthians 9:6-10; Psalm 112:1-2, 5-6, 7-8, 9; Jonah 12:24-26

Quite obviously, today’s proper readings for the feast of St. Lawrence bring out key aspects of the saint’s life and death. In speaking of the importance of sowing bountifully, of giving to the poor, and lending to those in need, the first reading and the psalm bring out Deacon Lawrence’s generosity to God, as well as his love and service of the poor. In particular, we remember how, when asked by his persecutors for the treasures of the church, Lawrence pointed to those to whom he was distributing alms and said: these are the treasures of the church. And by speaking of the grain of wheat that falls into the ground and dies, the gospel brings out the deeper significance of Lawrence’s martyrdom.

Thus do the readings highlight Lawrence’s generosity and martyrdom. As we reflect on these qualities, we may perhaps find it easier to identify with the first. Is it not more likely that we be called to put something in the envelope during Catholic Charities Week than be put to death for the faith? There is perhaps a natural tendency for us to think that whilst all Christians are called to be generous, few are called to martyrdom. I remember how, for example, after listening to a talk on the Cross in the Christian life, someone approached the speaker and pointed out that not all saints are martyrs.

Yet, we might consider whether the two qualities are all that different. Isn’t Lawrence’s courage in the face of suffering and death but another aspect of the generosity that made him willing to give all for God and for the service of God’s people? And even if not all Christians are called to die the way the martyrs do, aren’t we all called to carry our own crosses everyday in order to follow our crucified and risen Lord?

Today, when many are turning to religion for consolation and strength, it is tempting for us who are Christian to downplay the sacrificial aspect of our faith. But what is our belief without the cross? On the contrary, today’s readings bear a message that is especially needed today: that although generosity and martyrdom both entail loss in some form, both lead to great gain. In the harvest field of the Lord, sowing bountifully means reaping bountifully. And the seed that falls into the ground dies only to bear much fruit.

Wednesday in the 18th Week of Ordinary Time (II)
Memorial of St. Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein), Virgin, Martyr
National Day of Singapore

Particular and Universal

Readings: Jeremiah 31:1-7; Jeremiah 31:10, 11-12ab, 13; Matthew 15: 21-28
(Note: There is also an optional set of proper readings for National Day)

The readings today invite us to reflect upon an important tension in our faith. The tension is expressed especially in Jesus’ responses to the Canaanite woman. Initially, Jesus says: I was sent only to the lost sheep of the House of Israel. Yet he also eventually grants the woman’s request. At first, Jesus emphasizes his mission to the particular people of Israel. But, impressed and persuaded by the urgency of the woman’s need and the strength of her faith, Jesus also opens himself to the universal scope of his coming.

It is important to keep in mind this tension between the universal and the particular when we listen to the other readings today. In the first reading, when God says: they shall be my people, who is God referring to? Will God only look after all the clans of Israel to the exclusion of all other peoples? And, in the response to the psalm, when we declare that the Lord will guard us as a shepherd guards his flock, who do we mean by us? Who is the object of God’s care? Will the Lord only shepherd baptized Christians to the exclusion of people of other faiths and none? Is it not also written that God wishes all to be saved and come to the knowledge of the truth (see 1 Timothy 2:4)?

This tension – between the universal and the particular – is an important one to maintain. Trouble starts if we overemphasize one at the expense of the other. For example, on this day when we remember Edith Stein – who died in a Nazi concentration camp – we are reminded of the horrible fruit of the Nazis’ belief in the superiority of the Aryan race over all others. And do we not continue to see the effects of the neglect of the universal in the Middle East today?

On the other hand, neither can we afford to neglect the particular. We are finite human beings with limited resources. We can, for example, only be in one place at any given time. Even if we are to cultivate a love that is open to all, we cannot but set priorities to how this love is expressed, as Jesus does in the gospel. More importantly, there is also the danger of claiming to have a universal love without actually loving any particular person. One is reminded of what a character from the Peanuts comic strip says: I love humanity. It’s my neighbour I can’t stand.

As we Singaporeans celebrate another National Day, we might fruitfully reflect upon the importance of maintaining this tension in our lives as citizens. Even as we proudly celebrate our achievements and dedicate ourselves to continue building up our families, our communities, and our nation, do we not also need to consider how we are being called to contribute to the well-being of other families and communities, other nations and peoples?

A happy National Day to all!

Tuesday in the 18th Week of Ordinary Time (II)

Memorial of St. Dominic
Reaching Out

Readings: Jeremiah 30:1-2, 12-15, 18-22; Psalm 102:16-18, 19-21, 29 and 22-23; Matthew 14:22-36

I’m reminded today of Michaelangelo’s famous painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. I’ve never seen the original, only copies. But I’m reminded today of the scene it presents: both God and humanity reaching out to each other, fingers barely touching. This is an image of our salvation. This is an image of what God does continually – from age to age and generation to generation, from day to day and moment to moment – God reaches out to humanity.

But it takes two hands to clap. We need to respond in order for the contact to be made. And this is something we don’t do so well. We tend to look to other gods – such as material success and wealth – for our happiness, thus forsaking the One True God. And we pay the price for our lack of fidelity. Hence God’s indictment of the people in today’s first reading may also apply to us: your wound is incurable, your injury past healing… So great is your guilt, so many your sins. And even when we do finally decide to turn and walk towards God, our resolve is weak. Like Peter in the gospel, we encounter the various storms of life and we falter. We start to sink again into what could be our watery grave.

Still God continues to reach out. As long as we make some effort – however tentative and feeble – God comes the rest of the way. When we stumble, we have only to cry out, as Peter does: Lord! Save me! And God comes at once to our aid. This insight should not give us cause to remain lukewarm. On the contrary, it should move us to respond ever more generously, to reach out ever more readily.

How are being called to do so today?

Monday in the 18th Week of Ordinary Time (II)
A Bitter Pill

Readings: Jeremiah 28:1-17; Psalm 119:29, 43, 79, 80, 95, 102; Matthew 14:13-21

As Christians, we are all called to be prophets each in our own unique way. And to be a prophet is to bring the Good News of God’s word to God’s people. To be a prophet is to do what Jesus does in the gospel: to feed people with that which alone can give them sustenance. Humanity does not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from the mouth of God. There is gratification in feeding people this way. Especially when we can see very clearly that they are enjoying the food that we bring.

But God’s word does not always present itself as a delicious meal. As the Chinese saying goes: good medicine is bitter to the taste. Likewise, feeding on God’s word can sometimes be a less than pleasant experience. The one who serves at this table cannot be too attached to gratification. For diners are not likely to thank those who feed them with such fare – spiritually nutritious though it may be.

Is this not why it is easy for us to identify with Hananiah in the first reading? Do we not also wish that we had only consolation to offer? And yet in trying to grasp at the gratification that comes from keeping people happy, Hananiah forsakes his own prophetic call. He ends up speaking his own word instead of God’s. It is Jeremiah who instead remains faithful. He continues to speak God’s word even when it is hard to hear. And Jeremiah’s experience is also not foreign to us. Do not good parents do the same with their children?

As we meditate more deeply on God’s word to us today, how are we being called to be faithful to our prophetic calling – in our families, in our church, in our world – even when it seems that all we have to offer is a bitter pill to swallow?

Feast of the Transfiguraton (B)
Between Mountain and Vale

Readings: Daniel 7:9-10, 13-14; Psalm 97:1-2, 5-6, 9; 2 Peter 1:16-19; Mark 9:2-10

Quite clearly the action for today’s feast takes place in two symbolic places: the majestic throne room of the Ancient One and the Mount of Transfiguration. Both throne and mountain invite reflection today. Together, they point to the reality spoken of in the response to the psalm: the Lord is king, the Most High over all the earth. Reflecting upon these places, we may perhaps be reminded of our own personal and communal mountain-top experiences – times when we were graced with a felt sense of God’s majesty and power. Recalling such experiences, we easily identify with Peter’s desire to make three tents and remain on the mountain-top. But we also know that such peak-experiences usually don’t last for very long – at least not long enough. All too soon the quickened heart-beat slows and the warm glow fades. As we return wistfully to the sometimes tiresome and always tiring reality of everyday existence we are perhaps left to wonder if the experience really took place or whether it was simply a dream, an exercise in wishful thinking.

There is, however, another important place in today’s readings upon which we need to reflect. Unlike the throne-room and the mountain, one is not usually drawn to remain here. But this place is no less important. It is the road down the mountain. This is the place of connection, of mediation. What does this road connect? It connects the mountain with the valley: the mountain of peak-experience and the valley of the mundane, of tears, of suffering, and of death.

When our attention is focused on this place, we are made to remember the wider context of both the first reading and the gospel. We are reminded that when Daniel has his vision of God’s majesty, he is actually living an exile’s life. We recall that in the gospels, the transfiguration is situated within the context of Jesus’ attempts to teach his disciples that the Son of Man has to suffer…

It is when our attention is focused on the road that we begin to see the deeper significance of both throne and mountain. We begin to see that our experiences of both these places are meant to help us remember and recognize God’s majestic presence in the ordinary and even difficult events of life. We are led to see what the writer of the gospel of John, for example, came to see: that God’s glory is made manifest when Jesus is lifted up on the cross, drawing all people to himself. It is here that we learn what the apostles in today’s gospel have yet to learn: what rising from the dead means.

Here on the road between mountain and vale, we are invited to cling onto the conviction that, whatever we may encounter on the way, God continues to reign. Even as, in the difficult days ahead, we may be tempted to doubt our peak-experiences, we are invited to place our faith firmly in the reality spoken of by Peter in the second reading when he declares: we did not follow cleverly devised myths… but we had been eyewitnesses of his majesty. Indeed, we will do well to be attentive to it, as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in (our) hearts.

And when we follow Christ on this road, he teaches us to see God’s face and hear God’s voice not just on the mountain-top, but also in the valley. Indeed that’s what the road is for. The mountain is for the valley. In the valley is concealed the mountain. And the road connects them both.

What is the Lord teaching us on the road today?