Flame On!

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Malachi 3:19-20; Psalm 97:5-9; 2 Thessalonians 3:7-12; Luke 21:5-19

Picture: cc Riccardo Di Virgilio

Sisters and brothers, are you afraid of fire? If you are, you have nothing to be ashamed of. You have every reason to be afraid. For we all know the destructive power of fire. Isn’t this why all our buildings are usually equipped with fire escapes and alarms? With fire extinguishers and sprinklers? We are justifiably afraid of fire. So we prepare for the time when a fire might flare up unexpectedly. Not only that. We also try our best to prevent fires from breaking out in the first place. From a very young age, for example, we have all been taught not to play with fire. Preparation and prevention. These are the two main ways by which we guard ourselves against the destructive effects of fire. But are they the only ways? Is there another? What do you think?

Are you familiar, sisters and brothers, with the Human Torch? Those  who are will know that he’s a superhero. A member of a group of superheroes collectively known as the Fantastic Four. While on a journey into space, this foursome was bombarded by cosmic radiation. Upon their return to earth, they found themselves endowed with superhuman powers. As his name suggests, the Human Torch has the ability to envelop his whole body in fire. Without doing himself any harm. And, whenever he does this, the Torch usually yells out a signature phrase. Do you remember what it is? That’s right. Flame on!

Flame on! That’s what the Human Torch shouts out when he ignites himself. When he transforms himself into fire. Isn’t this, sisters and brothers, a really cool way of guarding yourself against the flames? Not just by preventing a fire from starting. Or preparing to put it out should one flare up. But by actually becoming fire. For, if you are already fire, what do you have to fear from fire itself? So, not just preparation or prevention. But actual ignition. Transformation. Flame on!

I know what you’re probably thinking right now, sisters and brothers. You’re thinking that I’ve been reading too many comic books. Or watching too many movies. Or maybe even suffering from a delusion of some kind. And you may well be right. After all, the Human Torch is but a fantasy. What possible relevance could he have for the often harsh realities of our daily lives? How could someone in his or her right mind expect to survive being enveloped by fire?

And yet, curiously enough, our Mass readings today seem to point us precisely in this apparently delusional direction. You will, no doubt, have noticed that both the first reading and the gospel, speak to us of a day that is coming. A rather strange day. A day of the Lord’s visitation. A day of terror and tragedy. But also a day of safety and salvation. In the first reading, the prophet Malachi describes it in terms of fire. The day is coming now, he proclaims, burning like a furnace. A fire is coming. But notice that the prophet does not tell his listeners to try to prevent this fire. Or even to prepare to put it out. Instead, he seems to assume that the fire will come anyway. How then to safeguard oneself?

To answer this question, we need to consider the curious effects that this fire has on different people. According to the prophet, the arrogant and the evildoers will be like stubble. Like straw. The fire will burn them up. But on those who fear God, those who put God first in their lives, this fire will have the opposite effect. For them, the harsh fiery furnace of God’s coming will turn into a gentle sun of righteousness. Bringing wholeness and healing. Instead of death & destruction.

We see something similar in the gospel too. Here, although there is no explicit mention of a fire breaking out, scripture scholars tell us that St. Luke is writing about the destruction of Jerusalem and the Temple, at the hands of the Romans, in the year A.D. 70. In the gospel, this terrible event is something that is going to take place in the future. But notice that Jesus focuses not so much on how this destruction can be prevented. Or how preparations can be made to overcome it. Instead, Jesus speaks about how it can be endured. Although many will perish, those who cling to their faith in God, those who remain steadfast to the end, will be saved. Your endurance will win you your lives.

What are we to make of all this, sisters and brothers? What is it about the God-fearers in the first reading, and the faithful disciples in the gospel, that enables them not just to survive, but even to thrive, in the face of terrible suffering? As with every question that life poses to us. Every question that’s worth asking. The answer is found in the life of Christ himself. For, as we well know, Jesus too faced a fiery furnace. He too encountered a day of destruction. When he had to carry a cruel cross. Only to be crucified upon it like a common criminal.

And, because Jesus remained faithful and steadfast to the end, he was crushed but not destroyed. Rather, he was raised to life on the Third Day. How did this come about? How was Jesus preserved in the furnace of suffering? Was it not because he himself was constantly already on fire with the love of his heavenly Father? Even at the tender age of 12, Jesus was able to tell his poor perplexed parents that he had to be in his Father’s house. Doing his Father’s will. And when it came time for his public ministry, Jesus began by first allowing himself to be immersed in the waters of the River Jordan. The waters of our frail human condition. The waters of his Father’s will for him. And, having done so, Jesus experienced himself being engulfed by the fire of the Holy Spirit. Who descended upon him like a dove.

Sisters and brothers, if Jesus was able to thrive in the furnace of adversity, it was only because he was always already aflame with the love of his heavenly Father. Always already engulfed in the fire of the Holy Spirit. And can we not say the same of the people in our readings as well? In the first reading, it is because they are already on fire, that the people are able to continue walking in the ways of God. In the gospel, it is because they are already on fire, that the disciples can be expected to transform their terrible trials into opportunities for bearing witness to Christ. In the second reading, it is because the Thessalonians are already on fire that Paul can encourage them to turn away from idleness, and to work quietly and diligently instead.

To continue burning with the love of God. Sisters and brothers, isn’t this also what we are all invited to keep doing every day of the week? And isn’t this also why we gather here to worship every Sunday? Even as we may have to face the furnace of the inevitable challenges of daily living. We are able to survive and to thrive. To turn painful trials into precious opportunities for bearing witness. Only to the extent that we continue to allow ourselves to be set alight with the love of God. To be transformed by the Holy Spirit into fire itself.

I saw an image of this fire last Friday evening. When we gathered in this church to express our solidarity with the victims of Typhoon Yolanda. A slideshow was screened. In the midst of the many images of terrible suffering. Of pain and anguish. One image caught my eye. It was a picture of a group of people who appeared to be waiting for something. Perhaps for supplies to be distributed. A young woman in this group had her arms wrapped around something to which she was clinging tightly. Almost desperately. It was a large statue of our Blessed Mother. I saw on that woman’s face a quiet determination. A firmness of resolve. A courage and a strength that were signs of a fire burning deep within her. Keeping her going in the midst of her trial.

And what about us? How do we face our trials? Only by prevention and preparation? Or also, most of all, by ignition & transformation. Sisters and brothers, how can we keep shouting flame on today?

Some Things Have to Be Custom-Made

Wedding Mass of Rachel & Andrew

Readings: Genesis 2:18-24; Psalm 148; 1 Corinthians 12:31-13:8; Matthew 5:1-12

Pictures: cc Stefan Z

Andrew and Rachel, my dear friends. Have you ever noticed how so many of the things we use these days are mass-produced? Even something as complex and as sophisticated as a smartphone? I imagine that the parts that make up a smartphone are manufactured and assembled in factories that churn out many thousands of units a day. And it’s a good thing that we’re able to do this, because it makes the products more easily available. Also more affordable.

But, even though we may have the technology to mass-produce a lot of useful stuff. A factory-manufactured product is not always the most suitable. Some things still need to be custom-made. Especially if we want them to fit well. I know someone, for example, who recently needed a new set of dentures. The process of making them was really quite laborious. Not to mention expensive. It involved several visits to the dentist. First, to have a couple of teeth extracted. Then measurements had to be taken. Moulds and adjustments made. And, even after the dentures were finished, it took some time for the wearer to get used to them. At first there was some pain and discomfort. But, thankfully, the last time I checked, the person is finally happy with the final product. The dentures fit comfortably now. But only after a rather long and costly process. Only because they have been custom-made.

Today, many things can be mass-produced. Very quickly. And very cheaply. But some other things continue to have to be custom-made. If this is true of dentures, it’s even more true of marriages. Isn’t this the message that you, Andrew and Rachel, are trying to bring to our attention, through the scripture readings that you have chosen for our celebration today?

In the familiar first reading from the book of Genesis, we have an account of something being made. At first glance it may seem like the reading provides us with a description of how the first woman is created. And that’s true. It does. But that’s not all it does. For notice how the reading ends. It ends not just with a woman. Standing alone as a finished product. The reading ends rather with a relationship. We’re told that the man and the woman become one body. Quite clearly, the first reading is a description of how a relationship is created. And not just any kind of relationship. Not just a relationship where one creature exerts mastery over another. But a relationship of true equals. Of mutual respect. Of deep intimacy. Of oneness of heart and mind and body. This at last is bone from my bones and flesh from my flesh!
And notice how this unique relationship comes about. Notice how the man rejects all other animals. The same animals that God had earlier mass-produced, so to speak. These are found to be unsuitable. What the man is seeking requires something more than mass-production. The relationship that he desires requires more time and effort. It must be custom-made. And notice what this customised process involves. First the man is made to fall into a deep sleep. And then something is taken from him. Something that is actually a part of his very self. A rib is taken from the man. And made a part of the woman.

Now, my dear friends, I may be wrong. But I think that for us modern Christians, this process may at first look like nothing more than a surgical procedure. Like something we may find, for example, in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. And, what’s more, we may even think that it’s a procedure that’s rather unethical. The man is drugged, and then his rib is stolen from him. But perhaps there is really something more going on. To appreciate what this is, we need to turn our attention to the second reading. Again, very insightfully chosen by you, Andrew and Rachel. Here, we find St. Paul reminding us of the crucial importance of love. If I give away all that I possess, Paul writes, if I even let them take my body to burn it (or my rib), but am without love, it will do me no good whatever.

Paul’s words should help us to see more clearly, what is happening to the man in the first reading. First, his ego is put to sleep. His tendency to seek only what’s good for himself. First, his self-interest has to be tranquillised. Only then can he make a donation of himself to the other. To the woman. For her good. Not just his own. It is only then, only through this loving self-donation, that the intimate relationship between man and woman can come into being. Marriage is the custom-made product of love.

And this process doesn’t take place only in the Garden Eden. Only at the beginning of Creation. Or even only on a wedding day like today. Or even only during a romantic honeymoon. This laborious custom-made process needs to continue at every moment of every one of the days to come. It has to continue, for example, even when both the man and woman come home after a long and tiring day at work. Looking forward to some down time. Some me time. Eager perhaps to enjoy some tender loving care from the other. Which is all very legitimate. But, for one to receive care, there must also be another willing to offer it. Another willing to take time to put self-interest to sleep. So that self-donation can take place. It is only when both man and woman are willing to do this for each other. And, when children come along, for them as well. And on a regular basis. That the marriage relationship can continue to be created. Continue to be custom-made.

All of which, as those among us who are already married will tell us, is much easier said than done. I imagine that there will perhaps be days in a marriage when, having already given much of oneself, a husband or a wife may feel as though there is just no more to give. How then to carry on? Which is why it’s important for us to consider something else in our readings today. Notice who it is who is ultimately responsible for the process of Creation. Not just the man and the woman. They are involved. But only as generous and obedient collaborators. The process is ultimately in the hands of God. It is God who manufactures the parts. It is God who assembles them. It is God who supplies the power to bring the relationship to life.

Isn’t this why the gospel that you, Andrew and Rachel, have chosen is so important. Here, we’re told that certain kinds of people are blessed. The poor in spirit, the gentle, the mourners, those who seek what is right. What do all these have in common, my dear friends, if not the humility to recognise that what is needed most we are unable to manufacture for ourselves. My dear friends, Andrew and Rachel, the love without which no marriage can survive, is ultimately the precious gift of God. A gift that God happily showers upon us, especially in the Mystery that we are celebrating at this Mass. A gift that we need to continue to beg from God. And to offer to one another in the days to come.

Rachel and Andrew, my dear friends, many of the things we use everyday can be mass-produced. But a marriage needs to be continually custom-made by God. How are we being called to collaborate with God in this creative process today?

Between Automation & Attention (Rerun)

31st Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Wisdom 11:22-12:2; Psalm 145:1-2, 8-9, 10-11, 13, 14; 2 Thessalonians 1:11-2:2; Luke 19:1-10
Picture: cc Andrew Seaman

Dear sisters and brothers, do you ever sometimes marvel at the wonder of automation? When I do my laundry, for example, all I usually have to do is throw my dirty clothes into the washer, add detergent, and press the right buttons. I can then go off and do whatever else I need to do. Have my breakfast, read the newspapers, check my email... Then I return a little later to transfer my clothes to the dryer. On those rainy days when I can’t hang them out to dry. Again I press the right buttons. And, before I know it, all my clothes are washed and dried. What’s wonderful about the whole process is that I don’t have to stick around to watch over the machines as they do their work. I don’t have to pay much attention to them at all. They know when to stop on their own. That’s the wonderful thing about automation, isn’t it? It saves us from having to pay constant attention to something.

But, even though modern technology is now so far advanced, not everything is automatic. I know someone, for example, who once left a large pot of beans over the stove to boil. And then went off to do something else. Completely forgetting about the pot. Unfortunately, unlike the washer and the dryer, that stove was not automatic. It didn’t know when to stop boiling those beans. It needed more attention than my friend was able to give to it. So, as you can well imagine, there were no beans for dinner that night.

Automation is great. But not everything is automatic. Some things still require our close attention. This is true not just of a stove. It’s also true of something that our Mass readings are inviting us to reflect upon today. The relationship between God and creation. What is this relationship like? Some people may think that it is not much different from the way in which I relate to the washer and the dryer. It’s a relationship of automation. God simply pushes the buttons at the beginning, and then leaves the scene. Returning only much later. At the end of time. And, if the results are not up to God’s expectations, people will be punished.

This is probably the kind of understanding that we find St. Paul arguing against in the second reading. It is likely that the Thessalonians have received a forged letter. A letter claiming to be from Paul. But actually written by someone else. A letter telling the Thessalonians that the day of the Lord has already arrived. That Jesus has come for the second time. And the poor Thessalonians are alarmed. Worked up. Perhaps they think that, like the pot of beans my friend placed on the stove, they have been left all alone to prepare for the Lord’s second coming. And they’re not ready. They’re worried that God will return to find nothing but burnt beans. But Paul says that God has not left them alone. Paul assures them that he and the other leaders are praying continually that God will make them worthy of his call. Implying that God does not just leave us to prepare for the Lord’s coming automatically. The way I leave the washer and the dryer to do my laundry for me. Instead, God pays constant careful attention to us. Continually offering us the help that we need.

And the first reading helps us to deepen our understanding of God’s careful attention, by reminding us that no created thing could persist or be conserved, if not called forth by God. In other words, the very fact that we (and everything else) continue to exist is itself a sign that God is paying careful attention to us. God does not just create us and then leave us to make the best of our lives on our own. Instead, not only does God remain close to us, but the first reading even goes so far as to insist that God’s imperishable spirit is in all of us. Continually calling and guiding us. Consistently caring for and paying close attention to us.

And it is this same spirit that we find at work in Jesus in the gospel (see Lk 4:18). This is the spirit that moves Jesus to journey to Jerusalem. The spirit that sends Jesus to seek out and to save what was lost. In the ministry of Jesus, God pays continual and careful attention to all those whom God has created.

But that’s not all. There is something else very significant in today’s gospel. Notice how the reading begins by telling us that Jesus had originally intended only to pass through Jericho. But he ends up staying at the house of a man named Zacchaeus. What causes Jesus to change his mind? What is it about Zacchaeus that enables this senior tax collector and a wealthy man, to benefit from the ministry of the Lord?

The answer is not difficult to discover. Again it has to do with attention. Notice how, rather than simply allowing Jesus to pass by, Zacchaeus takes the trouble to climb a tree. Although he knows that people don’t like him, he’s still willing to draw attention to himself. But only so that he can himself pay closer attention to Jesus. And Zacchaeus does this–he pays closer attention to God–not just by climbing the tree. We're told that he also gives half his property to the poor. In our reading, taken from the Jerusalem Bible, Zacchaeus’ words express something that’s going to happen in the future. He tells Jesus: I am going to give... But bible commentators tell us that, in the original Greek, the sentence actually expresses something that’s already happening in the present. What Zacchaeus is telling Jesus is that he is already giving half his property to the poor. On this reading, more than just climbing a tree, the tax collector, whom everyone thinks is a great sinner, is actually a generous benefactor of the poor and the needy. Isn’t this why Zacchaeus is able to benefit from Jesus' attention? It’s because Zacchaeus himself already constantly pays close attention to God. Especially to God present in the poor. As a result, when Salvation comes around, It doesn’t just pass him by. It decides to stay, and to shower blessings on Zacchaeus and his entire household.

All of which should lead us to reflect upon our own situations today. We all benefit from modern technology. We all enjoy the wonders of automation. And isn’t it true that sometimes we can too easily forget that not everything in this world is automatic? That some things just need more attention from us? Things like my relationship with God for example. Not enough just to go to Mass every Sunday, and expect the relationship to deepen by itself. It won’t. Not if I don’t make the time and the effort to communicate meaningfully with God. To pray from my heart. To pay closer attention to what God might be trying to show me. Through the people and the events that God is sending into my life.

And the same can be said for my other relationships as well. Relationships with my spouse and my children. With my friends and my colleagues at work. Unlike washers and dryers, these relationships are not automatic. They need my attention. Or they will die. And what about helping those who are less fortunate? Doesn’t this also require attention? Even if I may sometimes be tempted to think that it is only a question of paying my taxes on time. And hoping that the government will take care of the problem. Isn’t it true that the government cannot do everything? Could it be that there is something more that I need to do as a Christian? Closer attention that I need to pay? Greater efforts that I need to make? To reach out to those who could really use my help?

Sisters and brothers, in our readings today, salvation comes to Zacchaeus and his household because of the close attention the tax collector pays to God and to the poor. To God present in the poor. What about us? You and me? How are we being invited to continue moving from automation to attention today?

From Puffed Up to Poured Out

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

Readings: Ecclesiasticus 35:15-17,20-22; Psalm 33:2-3,17-19,23; 2 Timothy 4:6-8,16-18; Luke 18:9-14

Picture: cc garrettsjean

Sisters and brothers, what do you think? What does modern society have in common with a puffer fish?  You know, of course, what a puffer fish is, right? The Japanese call it fugu. You know how it gets its name. The fugu is actually not a very big fish. Nor can it move very fast. But it’s able to survive and to thrive in the wild, because it has a highly effective way of defending itself against attack. The fugu, as you know, has an extremely elastic stomach. Which it can quickly fill with water whenever it’s threatened. The sudden intake of liquid enables the fugu to quickly grow much bigger than it actually is. And this sudden increase in size is usually enough to scare away would-be predators. That’s how the fugu survives. That’s how it gets ahead in life. By a strategy of self-inflation.

Now I may be wrong, sisters and brothers. But it seems to me that it’s not just the puffer fish that relies on a strategy of inflation to get ahead in life. To survive and to thrive in the wilderness of modern society, don’t many of us have to do the same? Don’t we have to spend much time and effort puffing ourselves up just to face the challenges of daily living? We have to spend years in school, for example. Not just to gain an education. But also to puff ourselves up by accumulating academic qualifications. Isn’t this why so many of us get so stressed out around this time of year? When exam season comes around. Parents even more than students. Nor does the stress end after we graduate. Even then, we have to carefully puff up our resumés. So that we can advance more quickly in our chosen careers.

And not just in school and at work. Don’t we have to rely very much on the strategy of inflation even on the social scene as well? Why else do so many of us feel obliged to post intimate personal information and images on social media? If not to enhance our public personas? To puff ourselves up in the sight of others? Even total strangers. In the most recent issue of Digital Life–the Straits Times' technology supplement–for example, the editor, Oo Gin Lee, writes about how his 11-year old daughter has to endure getting laughed at by her friends in school. All because her dad doesn’t permit her to have a Facebook account or a smartphone. Imagine that. Only 11 years old. And already feeling the pressure to puff herself up in the sight of others. Sisters and brothers, what do you think? Doesn’t our modern society have something in common with the puffer fish? The fugu puffs itself up occasionally to repel predators. We have to do it on a daily basis to attract admirers. In both cases, the strategy is the same. Self-inflation.

But please don’t be mistaken, sisters and brothers. I’m not saying that social media is necessarily bad. It’s not. Nor am I saying that students should not take their studies seriously. Or adults their careers. They should. The problem arises, however, when self-inflation becomes our default strategy. When it becomes the only way we know how to relate to the world. And not just to the world. But even to God. For, as you will probably have noticed, our Mass readings today are all about how those who puff themselves up end up failing to find favour in the sight of God. The classic example of this is, of course, the Pharisee in the gospel parable. Notice how the Pharisee puffs himself up in the Temple. How his prayer is really a hymn of praise of himself to himself. In his telling of the parable, Jesus is careful to indicate that the Pharisee stood up in the Temple and addressed his prayer, not to God, but to himself.

But why exactly, we may ask, does he fail? Why is God not impressed with the Pharisee’s considerable litany of spiritual achievements? Why does the Pharisee leave the Temple not at rights with God? The answer is to be found in the first reading. Which reminds us that God is no respecter of personages. In other words, God isn’t attracted by the very thing that the Pharisee tries to inflate. Namely, the Pharisee’s own ego. And the reason for this is not so much that the Pharisee is worthless as a person. He’s not. He is, after all, like the rest of us, lovingly created by God. As is written, in Psalm 139, we are fearfully and wonderfully made (v. 14). The problem is rather that, being so focused only on himself, the Pharisee leaves no room in his heart and in his life for God to enter. The Pharisee is just too full of himself. Or rather, too full of the self that consists only in his own personal achievements. The things in which he takes great pride. Puffed up only with himself, the Pharisee ends up repelling everything and everyone else. Even the merciful God who created him.

In contrast, it is the tax collector whose prayer is accepted. It is the sinner, who leaves the Temple at rights with God. Why? The reason is not too difficult to see. The tax collector succeeds where the Pharisee fails, not so much because he is sinful. But because he is both willing to admit, and able to mourn, his own sinfulness. He knows, from experience, his own weakness. His own inability to make himself holy. And, broken-hearted, he begs for help. God, be merciful to me, a sinner. And God does help. God does hear his prayer, because that is what God is like. As the responsorial psalm reminds us, the Lord is close to the broken-hearted; those whose spirit is crushed he will save.

Here, sisters and brothers, we find the radical difference between the Pharisee and the tax collector. The first puffs himself up with the water of his own egotistical achievements. And, by doing this, ends up repelling God. The second, however, humbly acknowledges his own brokenness. And, by doing this, actually attracts God into his heart and into his life. Allowing himself to be filled with the wine of God’s love and mercy. But that’s not all. While the story of the Pharisee may end with the parable in the gospel. The story of the tax collector actually continues. It continues with what St. Paul writes in the second reading concerning himself.

My life, says Paul, is already being poured away as a libation. What is this life that Paul is referring to, sisters and brothers, if not the same invigorating wine that the tax collector allows God to pour into his heart in the gospel? Here, in the second reading, we find the intended destination of God’s love and mercy. It’s meant not just to be locked up within people like the tax collector in the gospel and St. Paul in the second reading. Those who allow themselves to be filled by God. The wine of God’s love and mercy is meant to be poured out for the life of all the world. Just as blood and water poured out from the side of the crucified Christ. As he hung lifeless on the Cross. And it is by allowing himself to be the vessel through which this gracious outpouring takes place, that St. Paul can hope eventually to receive his heavenly reward. The crown of righteousness reserved for me, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give to me on that Day. The Day of the Lord.

Sisters and brothers, perhaps this is the challenge that our Mass readings are presenting to us today. The challenge to go beyond our usual mode of operation in modern society. And to cultivate instead an alternate strategy for daily living. The challenge to move continually from self-inflation to self-libation. From being puffed up to being poured out. So that more people in our world may truly come to know that Christ, our Crown of Righteousness, has already come. Has already died. Is already risen. For them. For you. For me. For all.

Sisters and brothers, what must we do to keep moving from inflation to libation today?

Foes That Must Be Fought

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (C)

(Mission Sunday)

Readings: 2 Timothy 4:10-17; Psalm 144:10-13,17-18; Luke 10:1-9

Picture: cc HoangP

Sisters and brothers, have you ever found yourself under attack by an enemy of some kind? What do you do? How do you react? Do you run away? Do you fight back? Or do you just give in? Well, it all depends, right? Sometimes fighting back is just not the wise thing to do. If I happen to be in a lonely place, for example. And a robber suddenly appears and points a knife at me, asking for my wallet. Probably not a good idea for me to fight back. No point in risking my life to save a few dollars, which I can earn back later on. Better just to give in. At least for the time being.

And this is true not just of human robbers snatching my money. It’s also true of another kind of thief. The invisible kind. The kind that steals not my money, but my good looks. I’m talking, of course, about ageing. What do I do, for example, when I notice wrinkles appearing on my face? Or when my hair starts turning from black to white? Or when it even begins to fall off? At first, of course, I may insist on fighting hard against this enemy. I may use skin creams and hair dyes and other similar weapons. But, after a while, I realise that I’m really fighting a losing battle. It’s only a matter of time before age catches up with all of us. Maybe it’s better not to struggle so hard. But to learn to grow old gracefully. Rather than fighting back all the time, there are some enemies that we just need to learn to accept. Maybe even to befriend.

But not all enemies are like that. There are some enemies that we really need to keep fighting against. No matter what. Even if it seems at first that we have no chance of winning. For example, as you know, here in Singapore, we have spent much of this year fighting against a very tiny but very deadly enemy. The Aedes mosquito. Which spreads Dengue fever. A disease that has so far claimed the lives of 5 people in Singapore this year. And although it’s an uphill battle, we have not given up. We continue to make every effort to fight this enemy. To wipe out its breeding grounds. And we do this so that we, and those we love, can be safe. This is something worth fighting for.

Sisters and brothers, sometimes, when we are under attack, it’s wise to give in. But, at other times, we just really need to keep on fighting. This is true in the spiritual life as well. In each of our Mass readings today, for example, we find people under attack. And, in each case, those under attack do not to give in. But keep on fighting back. In the first reading, after escaping from slavery in Egypt, the people of Israel reach a place called Rephidim. Here they are attacked by a race known as the Amalekites. And the people of Israel react by going to war. They do not give in. They fight back. In the second reading, St. Paul tells Timothy never to give up, but to keep fighting the good fight. To keep struggling especially against the attacks of false teaching. And, in the gospel parable, we find a poor widow suffering injustice of some kind. Caused by the attacks of an unnamed enemy. But, although she seems helpless, the widow does not give in. She keeps fighting back, by pestering a judge until he finally agrees to help.

The Amalekites in the first reading. Falsehood in the second. And injustice in the gospel. Sisters and brothers, in our readings today, these are the enemies against whom people refuse to give in. But keep fighting against. And we can probably think of other enemies too. Enemies whose attacks perhaps we ourselves have experienced. Enemies that we continue to have to fight against. Enemies like certain sinful habits that we can’t seem to break. No matter how hard we try. Maybe an addiction of some kind. To pornography. Or to gambling. Or to drink. Or even to work. An attachment to an unhealthy relationship. To someone who, for example, is already married to somebody else.

And what about enemies that attack not just individuals but also societies. Enemies such as poverty, for example. Isn’t it true that even in a rich place like Singapore, there are still poor people among us? People who need help, just to survive. And isn’t it also true, that there is a kind of poverty that affects even those who may have plenty of money. A poverty of the heart that somehow prevents people from being truly happy. A deep sense of loneliness, or emptiness, or meaninglessness, which may remain even though one’s life may be filled with many expensive things.

Sisters and brothers, like the people in our readings today, it’s likely that we too have experienced attacks by enemies that we need to fight against. But how do we do this? How exactly should we fight back? Especially when we ourselves often feel so weak? Thankfully, our readings give us some suggestions. When fighting against spiritual enemies, there are at least two things that we need to pay attention to.

The first is to occupy the right places. Notice what Moses tells Joshua in the first reading. March out to engage Amalek, he says. I, meanwhile, will stand on the hilltop. Moses begins his fight against Amalek by making sure that his forces occupy two places at once. The first place is where he sends Joshua and his armies. To the battlefield. And the second place is where Moses himself goes. To the hilltop. The battlefield of life. And the hilltop of prayer. These are the two places that we all need to occupy, especially when fighting against spiritual enemies. On the one hand, we need to do everything in our power to engage the forces of evil on the battlefield. But that is not enough. We also need to remain on the hilltop to pray for strength. The way Moses prayed. And the way the widow in the gospel prayed. Lifting up holy hands to God. Without giving up. Trusting in God’s power and desire to save us. Even if we may sometimes have to wait.

But that’s not all. In addition to occupying the right places, we also need to make use of the right weapons. Notice how, in the first reading, when Moses raises up his arms in prayer, he is not empty-handed. He carries the staff of God in his hand. The staff given to him by God as a sign of power and authority. The same staff that Moses used to defeat the magicians of Pharaoh. To part the Red Sea. And to strike the rock from which water flowed for the people to drink. Notice also that, in addition to the staff of God, Moses also relies on a stone on which he sits. And the support of two companions, when his arms grow tired. And not just Moses on the hilltop. But also Joshua, on the field of battle. He too relies on a weapon. We’re told that Joshua cut down the Amalekites with the edge of the sword.

But what about us, sisters and brothers? What weapons do we have? What is our equivalent of a staff, and a stone, and a sword? The answer to this question is found in our second reading, where St. Paul reminds Timothy of the power of the holy scriptures–from these, Paul writes, you can learn the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith in Christ Jesus. It is in the scriptures that we find our true and only effective weapon against the power of the Enemy. This weapon is Christ himself. Who, by his Cross and Resurrection, has redeemed the world.

My dear sisters and brothers, in life we often undergo attacks from enemies that we need simply to ignore. Or even to accept. But there are other times. There are certain enemies that we have to keep fighting against. No matter what. Enemies that threaten our life as Christians. Enemies that are stronger than us. Against whom, on our own strength, we would be powerless. But, thankfully, we have been given an effective Weapon. A Weapon that has already won for us the Victory. And it is this Weapon and this same Victory that we are celebrating here at this Mass. It is this Weapon and this Victory that we all have received a mission to proclaim to all the world.

Sisters and brothers, as we celebrate Mission Sunday, what enemies do you need to keep on fighting against today?