Avoiding The High-Beam

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: cc Rafiq Sarlie

My dear friends, do you know what you’re supposed to do, if you happen to be driving at night, and find yourself blinded by the high-beam headlights of an oncoming vehicle? Although the temptation is great to do so, the Highway Code suggests that you do not try to teach the inconsiderate driver a lesson by switching to high-beam yourself. Instead, the advice is to slow down, to turn your eyes away from the annoying lights in front of you, and to look instead at the kerb on the left. With the kerb as a guide, you can better keep safely to your own lane, and avoid an unnecessary collision.

I wonder if Jesus might not be doing something similar in the gospel today, to avoid falling into the trap that his enemies have set for him. The Pharisees and Herodians tempt him to say in public something that is possibly in the minds and mouths of many people at the time. They want him to advocate refusing to pay taxes to Rome. By doing this, Jesus would be acting like some leaders do, even in our world today. He would be setting popular power on a collision course with political power, and with explosive results.

But Jesus manages to resist this deadly temptation. Instead of being dazzled by the prospect of increasing his own popularity, he chooses to be guided instead by the truth. And the truth is that even a foreign power can have a place in God’s plan. Just as God can anoint the Persian king Cyrus to work for the benefit of the people, so too might God be using Caesar for the same purpose. Which is not to say that religious leaders should not speak out against unjust public policies. It’s just that we need to be clear that we’re doing it at the proper time and place, and for the right reasons.

By responding as he does, Jesus demonstrates the very thing that St Paul tells the Thessalonians in the second reading. The Good News that they have received – the same Good News we are gathered here to celebrate – is not just a matter of words to be bandied about. It is rather a power to be wielded in the Holy Spirit. A power that gives people both the brain and the backbone to avoid the trap of populism. A power that enables us to keep our eyes firmly focused on the Truth. Giving us the insight and courage, especially in times of crisis, to keep building bridges, rather than to erect walls.

And isn’t this the kind of power that needs to be wielded by leaders today? Not just in the national governments of our world, but also in homes and workplaces, in communities and parishes as well? Don’t we need leaders who are willing and able to do more than simply to say whatever different groups of people may want to hear? Pitting each one against the other for the leader’s own benefit? Don’t we need leaders who can, instead, do what we asked God to help us to do in the opening prayer just now? To always conform our will to yours and serve your majesty in sincerity of heart. Isn’t it also part of our mission to exercise and cultivate such leadership?

Sisters and brothers, as we celebrate World Mission Sunday, are there perhaps some blinding headlights in your life that you may need to deal with today?

Old-Timer, Newcomer, Homemaker

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Isaiah 25:6-10; Psalm 22(23); Philippians 4:12-14,19-20; Matthew 22:1-14

Picture: cc Tanmoy Kumar Roy

My dear friends, if you had a choice, which would you rather be, an old-timer or a newcomer? Which of these do you think is more likely to succeed? Does it matter? At the workplace, for example, while an old-timer may have more experience, he may also tend to be more stubborn, less willing to change. And although a newcomer may be more energetic and creative, she may also lack prudence and perseverance. So perhaps success at work doesn’t depend so much on seniority, as it does on other more important things.

But if this is true of the workplace, what about our faith? Does it make a difference whether I am a decades-old cradle-Catholic or a recently baptised convert? A new parishioner or a parish priest? Which of these is more likely to remain faithful? Which is more likely to fall away? What do you think?

At first glance, it may seem that the gospel is biased against the veterans. For the reading begins as it did last Sunday, by telling us that Jesus began to speak to the chief priests and elders of the people. Through his parable, the Lord issues a stern warning to these old-timers. If they do not change, not only will they be excluded from God’s Kingdom, they will be destroyed. And this will happen because they allow their obsession with money and popularity and power to blind them to what is good. They fail to recognise in Jesus the fulfilment of that beautiful promise in the first reading. Jesus is the mountain on which God will wipe away the tears from every cheek. But the leaders are too busy to climb this mountain, too blind to beg forgiveness for their sins.

Even so, it’s also important to see that, just as the parable begins by rebuking some veterans, it also ends with a caution to novices. For isn’t the one thrown out into the dark a newcomer? And what do we learn from his fate, if not that inclusion in God’s Kingdom doesn’t depend only on turning up at the banquet. Just as it’s not enough for us simply to show up here at Mass. Difficult though it may be, these days. No, our salvation depends ultimately on true discipleship of Jesus. And true discipleship involves more than mere lip service or empty ritual. True discipleship should also express itself in good works, symbolised by that wedding garment, which the unfortunate guest failed to wear.

Isn’t this why, in our opening prayer just now, we asked that God’s grace may at all times go before us and follow after and make us always determined to carry out good works? What we are seeking is the same grace that makes St Paul ready to face any challenge, because there is nothing I cannot master with the help of the One who gives me strength. Continually to seek and to rely on God’s guidance. Isn’t this what it means to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life?

So, my dear sisters and brothers, in order for us to get into heaven, perhaps it matters less whether we are old-timers or newcomers. What’s more important is that, through our daily decisions, we keep making our home in Christ. But, if this is true, then where exactly are you making your home today?

Subtle Warnings

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: cc Scott Davidson

My dear friends, do you know what a warning looks and sounds like? Actually, warnings come in many different forms. Some are very obvious. Such as a noisy fire alarm, or a piercing police siren, or a stern letter from an angry boss. They leave no room for doubt as to what we need to do. Escape the fire. Make way for the police car. Satisfy the boss. But other warnings are more subtle. Such as an occasional tightness in the chest, or a child who seems much quieter than usual, or more frequent and stronger hurricanes. These warnings are sometimes easier to ignore.

The same might be said about the warnings in our readings today. They too are easy for us to miss, if we don’t pay close enough attention. They take the apparently harmless form of a story about a vineyard. In the first telling of the story, the focus is on a particular society, a people, the House of Israel and Judah. God had delivered them from slavery in Egypt to safety in the Promised Land, where they were meant to live in such a way as to bear witness to the justice and integrity of God. Instead, they oppressed the poor and vulnerable in their midst. And, as a result, disaster befalls them.

The second telling of the story also involves a vineyard, but the focus is different. Not the people as a whole, but the leaders, the chief priests and elders. Whereas good leaders are supposed to bring their followers closer to God, these men are concerned only about furthering their own interests, increasing their own popularity and power. As a result, they are eventually replaced.

Harmless though it may seem, this story serves as a crucial reminder to us of how a society and its leaders ought to conduct themselves. How we ought to relate to one another. How we ought to relate to the poor and vulnerable, including Mother Earth. How we ought to relate to God. They warn us of the dire consequences of falling short of such right relationship. And, subtle though it may be, this biblical warning still finds echoes in our world today. For example, hasn’t the current experience of Covid-19 highlighted the pitiful plight of the poor and vulnerable, even in a nation as affluent and efficient as our own?

Thankfully, more than just warnings, the Mass texts also offer us guidance for how to respond. We see this especially in the advice that Paul offers the Philippians. In times of trouble, they are told to first bring their concerns to God in prayer and thanksgiving. We may consider, for example, the prayer we offered at the start of this Mass, when we asked God to pour out your mercy upon us to pardon what conscience dreads and to give what prayer does not dare to ask. The Philippians are also told to fill their minds with noble thoughts, and their hands with charitable deeds. So prayer and thanksgiving, contemplation and action. This is Paul's recipe for finding the peace of God and the God of peace in a chaotic world.

Sisters and brothers, if it is true that our readings present us with a subtle but urgent warning, then what must we do to better heed the Lord’s call to conversion today?

Of Location, Life & Love

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Isaiah 55:6-9; Psalm 144(145):2-3,8-9,17-18; Philippians 1:20-24,27; Matthew 20:1-16

Picture: cc Caitee Smith

My dear friends, do you know how deep the sea is? It depends, of course, on one’s location. For example, according to Wikipedia, the deepest place in the oceans is about 11,000 metres deep. That’s 2,000 metres more than the height of Mount Everest. Which is very deep. On the other hand, if I were to go to the beach, and walk a few steps into the water, that’s not deep at all. But location is not the only factor. As you know, climate change is causing sea-levels to rise all over the world. And scientists tell us that climate change is caused mainly by human activities. So the distance between the surface of the sea and the ocean-floor depends not only on our location, but also on how we choose to live.

The same can be said about the distance mentioned in our Mass readings today: the distance between the ways of God and human ways. Like the depth of the sea, this too depends on one’s location. In the first reading, the wicked person is asked to abandon his way, to leave his own evil location, in order to move toward God. For the heavens are as high above earth as God’s ways are above the ways of the wicked.

And if wickedness is where the distance between God and humanity is greatest, then righteousness is where the distance is smallest. And no one is more righteous than Christ Jesus. For we believe that, in Christ, God and humanity unite. In Christ, the greatness of God, which cannot be measured, takes on human flesh. In Christ, we see in human form the loving God who is at once both just in all his ways, and compassionate to all his creatures.

Isn’t this why we gather for the Eucharist? We believe that here, around the Table of the Lord, we are brought to that privileged place where humanity coincides with God, where earth enjoys intimate contact with heaven, where the Lord truly comes close to all who call on him from their hearts.

Even so, the gospel reminds us how important it is that we understand this Eucharistic location correctly. It is not just about being in church. For all the workers in the parable also experienced a change in location. In response to the landowner’s call, they moved away from the market place in order to work in the vineyard. And yet, those hired first couldn’t help feeling envious of those who came later but received the same wage. Why? Isn’t it because, despite spending a whole day in the vineyard, these early birds had still not yet given up the mindset of the market place?

Which goes to show that the Eucharist is not only about what happens to us when we gather. It is also about how we live after we disperse. It is about following what St Paul says in the second reading. Choosing, as individuals and as a community, to live in such a way that Christ will be glorified in our bodies. For example, by treating the vulnerable with compassion, and by paying workers a just wage. 

Sisters and brothers, if it is true that, like the depth of the sea, our distance from God depends on where we are and how we live, then what must we do to keep drawing closer to God today?

Heart Care

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Ezekiel 33:7-9; Psalm 94(95):1-2,6-9; Romans 13:8-10; Matthew 18:15-20

Picture: cc Injurymap

My dear friends, have you ever considered how amazing the human heart is? As you know, the heart is responsible for circulating life-giving blood around the body. And, in order to do this, a healthy heart has to be both flexible and tough. It has to be flexible enough to receive blood, but also tough enough to keep pumping blood all over the body, all the time.

It’s helpful to keep this in mind, as we meditate on our readings today. For just as the human body requires a constant flow of blood to survive, so too does the Church, the Body of Christ, live by the circulation of love. As the second reading tells us, love… is the answer to every one of the commandments. Love is what the Body of Christ receives from God, circulates among all its members, and then shares with the rest of the world. Isn’t this what we believe happens when we gather for the Eucharist? Here, at the Table of Word and Sacrament, we receive God’s life-giving love, share it among ourselves, and then go forth to convey it to others.

But blood, as you know, doesn’t just bring life to the body in the form of oxygen. Blood also removes death in the form of carbon dioxide. Similarly, our readings speak of the need for us to love one another, not just by encouraging those who do right, but also by correcting those of who do wrong. In the first reading, God reminds the prophet of his duty to warn the wicked, to call the wrongdoer to repentance. And, in the gospel, Jesus suggests steps that a community can take to correct its own wayward members.

To do this is, of course, not easy at all. It is tough. It’s tough enough to challenge the misdeeds even of members of our own family, let alone those of others. Isn’t this why, around the world, our Church has suffered, not just from the terrible effects of the abuse of children, but also from our own failure to confront this evil, our misguided attempts to cover it up?

Even so, love requires more than toughness alone. For example, although many have expressed praise and support for all that Pope Francis has been doing and teaching, there are also a good number of Catholics, including prominent Church leaders, who oppose and seek to undermine him. While such acts may be signs of toughness, we may perhaps wonder to what extent they are true expressions of love.

At the end of the gospel reading, Jesus says, where two or three meet in my name, I shall be there with them. The important words here are in my name. They suggest that, before we venture to correct others, we need to develop that flexibility that enables us to question whether we are truly acting in conformity with the Lord’s life and teachings. What we say and do should actually reflect the will of God, and not just the prejudice of those who are resistant to life-giving change, people who stubbornly refuse to repent.

Sisters and brothers, if it is true that the Body of Christ functions much like a human heart, then what must we do to keep cultivating both the flexibility and toughness that are needed to keep God’s love circulating in our world today?