Escaping Our Enclosures

5th Sunday in Lent (C)

Readings: Isaiah 43:16-21; Psalm 125 (126); Philippians 3:8-14; John 8:1-11

Picture: cc Charlie Marshall

My dear friends, when was the last time you visited a zoo? As you know, back in the day, zoo animals were kept in cages. Then, gradually, this began to change. Cruel cages were replaced with more comfortable enclosures, crude iron bars with less obvious barriers. Nowadays, enclosures are even arranged to resemble the animals’ natural habitat. Which makes me wonder what would happen, if animals kept in such enclosures were suddenly set free. Will they escape, or will they prefer to remain in their cosy surroundings? Do they even know or care that they are being held captive?

I ask these questions, because our scriptures today are filled with people in captivity of one kind or another. In the first reading, people stranded in a foreign land receive a  reassuring promise from God. Just as, in the past, God rescued their ancestors from slavery in Egypt, by making a way through the waters of the Red Sea, so does God now promise to blaze a path for them through the wilderness of exile, allowing them to eventually return safely home.

In the gospel too, we find people in captivity, people in need of rescue. The most obvious of whom is that poor woman caught in the very act of committing adultery. Like a caged animal, this unnamed woman is held captive not just by her own sin, but also by the callous indifference and cruel condemnation of the scribes and Pharisees. Thankfully, with great tenderness and compassion, Jesus sets her free. Has no one condemned you?… Neither do I condemn you… go away, and do not sin any more.

But, like that woman, her accusers are captives too. Except that their captivity is far less obvious, and their enclosure much more comfortable. So that, in order for them to be set free, a different approach is needed. In contrast to the tenderness shown to the woman, towards her accusers, the Lord responds first with a firm refusal to engage them on their terms. Instead, he simply writes on the ground with his finger. Then he finally disrupts their devious plans with an incisive comment: If there is one of you who has not sinned, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.

We may recall that this approach resembles what the apostle Paul experienced on the road to Damascus, when he heard the crucified and risen Christ ask him, Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? Setting him free from his obsession with the Law, and enabling him to start running the race of faith, trying to capture the prize for which Christ Jesus captured him. 

And what about us, our families and communities, our church and society? In what ways are we also being held captive by sinful habits of one kind or another? How is Christ caring for us, not just by showing us tenderness and compassion, but also by sometimes choosing to disrupt our well-laid plans?

Sisters and brothers, as with zoo animals, cosy enclosures can keep us captive even more effectively than cruel cages. How does Christ wish to set us free from them all today?

Change of Diet

4th Sunday in Lent (C) (Laetare Sunday)

Readings: Joshua 5:9-12; Psalm 33(34):2-7; 2 Corinthians 5:17-21; Luke 15:1-3,11-32

Picture: cc Steve Jurvetson

My dear friends, do you think it’s possible to be a vegetarian and still eat meat? I think the answer is no, right? It is not possible because, by definition, a vegetarian is one who doesn’t eat meat! Which may explain the current interest in plant-based alternatives to meat. They allow people to enjoy the taste of meat, and still call themselves vegetarians. For we know that to become a vegetarian requires a change of diet.

I mention this, because a change of diet is also what we find in our scriptures today. The first reading invites us to ponder the changes of diet that the Israelites had to undergo, from the food they ate in Egypt, to the manna in the wilderness, and now, to the local produce of the Promised Land. This more literal change of diet in the first reading mirrors a similar spiritual change in the gospel.

When the younger son finally comes to his senses, he resolves to stop feeding on the junk food of self-indulgence. He realises not only that such a diet fails to satisfy, but also that it causes him to treat others badly. So he returns to his father, ready to apologise for his bad behaviour. The older son too, although he may not realise it, is also being invited to give up junk food. Except that his guilty pleasure is self-righteousness. A diet that’s no less deadly, since it clogs his heart with resentment, and robs him of the capacity for joy. 

And it’s helpful for us to remember that the younger son in the parable actually points to the tax collectors and sinners, who were seeking the company of Jesus. Just as the older son refers to the Pharisees and the scribes, who complained. Both these groups of people are being called to give up their respective junk foods of choice, so as to truly enjoy the bountiful feast offered by God in Christ. The feast of reconciliation described in the second reading. Reconciliation with God, with others, and with all of creation. And this is the same feast that we are gathered here at this Mass to enjoy.

And yet, it’s not easy to give up junk food, even when we may know that the alternative is so much better. Just as it’s not easy for some Catholics, who have gotten used to watching a Mass online, to now switch back to worshipping in a church. Which is why we need to pay careful attention to another image in our readings, the image of the appeal. The image of a father, who forgets his own dignity, and rushes out into the fields to plead with his son. The image of a God, who begs us to change our ways, by allowing his Son to hang on a cross for our sins. And we may think also of the many other images – not just in Ukraine and Russia and around the world, but also in our own homes and streets and workplaces – images of people who suffer terribly, because of the self-indulgence and self-righteousness of others.

Sisters and brothers, for reasons of health and conscience, many people are willing to change their diets to become vegetarian. What are we willing to do, to truly enjoy God’s feast of reconciliation, and to share it with others today?

Claiming Our Inheritance

2nd Sunday in Lent (C)

Readings: Genesis 15:5-12,17-18; Psalm 26(27):1,7-9,13-14; Philippians 3:17-4:1; Luke 9:28-36

Picture: cc Ken Mayer

My dear friends, what’s the difference between a will and an inheritance? As you know, if someone leaves me a house in her will, I don’t immediately own the house. No, before I can claim it as my inheritance, several things need to happen first. The most important being that the current owner needs to die. Only then can the will be filed in court, and further steps be taken to transfer the ownership of the house to me.

To be named in a will is not yet to receive an inheritance. This is perhaps what Peter fails to understand in the gospel. After witnessing the Lord’s Transfiguration, he probably has the sense that he is being given a share in an inheritance, such as the inheritance promised to Abram in the first reading. And yet, by seeking to remain on the mountain, Peter shows that he doesn’t appreciate what is actually happening.

He fails to understand that, like a will, the Transfiguration is only the promise of an inheritance. It is not the inheritance itself. For Peter to actually receive his inheritance, several things need to happen first. The most important being that Jesus must go to Calvary, to lay down his life on the Cross. And a second important thing that must happen is that Peter, and all those who wish to claim the inheritance – including all of us – must truly believe that Christ is indeed God’s Chosen One. We must listen to him, and follow in his footsteps.

But if the Transfiguration is only the promise of an inheritance, then in what does the inheritance itself consist? The second reading helps us ponder this question by reminding us not to live only for earthly things, for our homeland is in heaven. Which doesn’t mean that we will be taken out of this material world to some faraway place. For the reading also tells us not only that Christ will transfigure these wretched bodies of ours into copies of his glorious body, but also that he will do so by using the same power with which he can subdue the whole universe. So our inheritance consists not in an escape, but a glorious transformation, not just of our bodies, but also of the whole material universe. Through the Lord’s Dying and Rising, everything will be transfigured. This is the glorious inheritance to which we lay claim when we profess our baptismal vows. The same vows that Lent prepares us to renew.

Even so, despite his lack of understanding, Peter does get one important thing right. For the gospel tells us that though he and his companions were heavy with sleep, they somehow managed to stay awake long enough to see the glory of the Lord. And what about me? In a world darkened by one crisis after another – from the global COVID-19 pandemic to the Russian invasion of Ukraine – am I able to stay sufficiently awake to see and be strengthened by the glory of the Lord shining out in all those heroic front-liners, who sacrifice themselves for the sake of others, as well as those who choose to stand on the side of truth and justice and peace?

Sisters and brothers, in the Transfiguration, our loving Father promises us a glorious inheritance. What are we doing to claim it for ourselves, and to share it with others today?

Between Review & Recipe

8th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Ecclesiasticus 27:5-8; Psalm 91(92):2-3,13-16; 1 Corinthians 15:54-58; Luke 6:39-45

Picture: cc insatiablemunch

My dear friends, do you know the difference between a review and a recipe? It’s simple, right? A review gives us a way to judge the quality of a dish of food, and a recipe tells us how to prepare it. A review focuses on the final product – the food – while a recipe describes the process of production.

In our scriptures today, we obviously find something like a review. Both the first reading and the gospel teach us how to judge something. Not a dish of food, but the hidden contents of the human heart. Just as every tree can be told by its own fruit, so can one’s heart be judged by one’s words. It’s possible, of course, to speak hypocritically. To feel one thing, and say the opposite. But we cannot hide forever. Over time, whatever is in the heart eventually finds a way to slip out…

Words tend to reveal the heart. And not just another person’s heart, but also my own. By paying attention to what may often escape from my own mouth, I can gain access to the things in my heart that may otherwise remain hidden, even from me. Darker things perhaps, like frustration and anger, resentment and envy. But also brighter things, like gratitude and wonder, mercy and compassion… And what is true of individuals is true of ministries and organisations too. The quality of their external words and actions often gives a good indication of their true inner character. Just as a terrorist organisation terrorises, a charitable one cares.

But what happens after we’ve judged a tree by its fruit, or a heart by the words that flow from it? How can a good tree maintain its goodness? Or a bad tree be converted from its badness? To answer these questions, we need something like a recipe. Which is also what our readings provide.

As you may have noticed, in the first reading, it’s not really the tree that is judged, but its location. The orchard where a tree grows is judged on the quality of its fruit. Similarly, the psalm praises the just who, by keeping God’s ways, remain planted in the house of the Lord, and flourish in the courts of our God. The second reading then reminds us that we Christians are called to cling to the incredible hope that God has already given us victory over sin and death through Jesus Christ our Lord. We remain planted in God’s house by never admitting defeat, but by persevering at the Lord’s work always, knowing that, in the Lord, we do not labour in vain.

A concrete example of all this is found in Pope Francis’ recent responses to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. By calling for a continued search for diplomatic solutions… by devoting Ash Wednesday to prayer and fasting for peace… by making an unprecedented personal visit to the Russian embassy… not only does the Pope reveal the contents of his own heart, he also shows us, and in the darkest of times, how to keep abiding in the one true Vine, who is Christ the Lord.

Sisters and brothers, if we were to review our lives, what will we find? What recipe are we cooking up for our world today?

Not Just for Show Flat

6th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Jeremiah 17:5-8; Psalm 1:1-4, 6; 1 Corinthians 15:12,16-20; Luke 6:17, 20-26

Picture: cc heatheronhertravels.com

My dear friends, have you visited those condo show-flats nearby, just a few steps from our church? I haven’t. But I wonder what they’re like… As you know, a show-flat aims to do two things. First, it offers a promise for the future. It helps us imagine a place where we might live. And it tries to do this in such an impressive way that we are drawn to sign on the dotted line, to buy that dream home that’s still being built. So a show-flat is also an invitation… to trust, and to commit.

A promise for the future, and an invitation to trust and commit. We find these in our readings too. In the gospel, Jesus promises his disciples that those who are deprived, because they choose to follow Jesus in the present, will be satisfied in the future, when the condominium development that is the kingdom of God is finally completed. Those who suffer now, because they see and relate to reality the way Jesus does. Those who keenly feel the burden of their own helplessness, in the face of evil and sin, yet continue to yearn and work for the common good. Those who weep at the state of our world, and are treated badly, for daring to speak and stand on the side of truth. Jesus promises all these that their sacrifice won’t be in vain. Their reward will be great in heaven.

Like a show-flat, this is not just a promise. It is also an invitation to keep trusting in God, to keep committing one’s life to the Lord. For the second reading reminds us that Christ himself did the same. He bore witness to the truth to the point of death, and was raised to life. So that those who dare to suffer with him, may hope to be raised in him as well.

But our readings are also different from a show-flat, in at least two ways. A show-flat points to something that doesn’t yet exist. It’s a promise only for the future. In contrast, our readings also describe a present reality. Like that tree planted by the water, in the first reading and the psalm, which keeps bearing fruit in a time of drought, those who suffer in Christ, are already blessed now, and remain a blessing to others too, because they draw life in its fullness from an eternal Source.

Next, while a show-flat seeks only to impress, our readings may feel like a cold shower. For they are a warning, a wake-up call, addressed to those of us who, for the sake of worldly pleasures, may be neglecting the concerns of the Lord, choosing to trust in material things, rather than in God. The readings remind us, not just of what we stand to lose in the future, when we do this, but also of our deprivation in the present. For we become like dry scrub in the wasteland, unable to appreciate even the good when it comes.

There is one more thing… We may recall that, in our opening prayer earlier, we asked God to fashion us into a dwelling pleasing to God… Which indicates that what we are being invited to imagine is not just a place for us to live, but also for God. For God is love, and those who abide in love abide in God, and God abides in them (1 Jn 4:16). Sister and brothers, what must we do to keep living together, truthfully and courageously, in this holy place today?