Between Price & Process

Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

Readings: Ezekiel 34:11-12,15-17; Psalm 22(23):1-3a,5-6; 1 Corinthians 15:20-26,28; Matthew 25:31-46

Picture: cc Alan O'Rourke

My dear friends, do you know the difference between a big price-tag and a new recipe? Have you ever seen something you like in a store, and rushed over to check its price, only to discover that the item is way above your budget? What does it feel like? Or, on the other hand, have you ever received a detailed recipe, giving you all the instructions you need to prepare the food that you love? What is that like? I think it’s not difficult to imagine the contrasting feelings evoked by these experiences. Just as the price-tag may discourage and depress, so too is the recipe able to excite and to energise.

I mention this because, at first glance, our Mass readings may look a lot like no more than a big price-tag. The gospel presents us with an image of the king as a judge, who exacts a hefty price from those wishing to attain their hearts’ desire. To enter into eternal life, one must show mercy to those in need. To the hungry and thirsty, the lonely and naked, the sick and imprisoned… And perhaps there are those who may feel that this is a price far more than they can pay. Particularly those of us who may struggle just to bear the stresses and strains of daily living, and who fail to care enough even for themselves, as they’re too busy worrying about others.

Which is why it’s helpful to consider the other roles played by our heavenly king. In the first reading, before claiming to be a strict judge, God promises to serve his people as a loving and merciful shepherd. One who does exactly the things expected of those in the gospel. As shepherd, God takes painstaking care of his needy and vulnerable sheep. Feeding and healing, protecting and guiding them.

As we ponder this consoling image of the shepherd, perhaps we may be drawn to recall how, in so many concrete ways, we ourselves are shepherded by God. How we ourselves are shown mercy. Most of all through the sacrifice that we celebrate at this Mass. And, when we do this, when we remember all that we have received from the Good Shepherd, even over this past year of global pandemic, perhaps we will better understand and accept another role that the king plays in our readings today.

The second reading tells us that Christ will subject everything to himself and, eventually, to the Father. The role the king plays here is that of conqueror. Except that Christ conquers not with sharpened sword, or smoking gun, but with broken Body, and Blood outpoured. It is by pondering this image, of Christ on the Cross, that we receive the strength to submit our lives to him, and to be transformed by his example.

First, to receive the care of the shepherd. Next, to submit to the power of the conqueror. And, only then, to satisfy the requirements of the judge. Together, don’t these images appear less like a depressing price-tag, and more like an exciting recipe?

Sisters and brothers, as we rejoice in the reign of Christ the King, what will you do to prepare for his just judgment today?

Dance Steps

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

(World Day of the Poor)

Readings: Proverbs 31:10-13,19-20,30-31; Psalm 127(128):1-5; 1 Thessalonians 5:1-6; Matthew 25:14-30

Picture: cc Juliana Chong

My dear friends, do you dance? As you know, dancing involves movement. But not all movement is dance. To dance is to move in a certain way. One’s movements must match the music heard in the ears… or in the heart. We might say that dancing begins not by wilfully performing some movement, but by humbly receiving a rhythm. First I listen to the music. Then I match my movements to what I hear.

Perhaps the same can be said about what we find in our readings today. Something that is described in different ways. The first reading and the psalm call it wisdom, and the fear of the Lord. The other readings speak of staying wide awake and sober, of being prepared for the master’s return.

At first glance, the readings may give us the impression that being well-prepared is all about movement. The first reading tells us that the perfect wife is always busy, not just with household chores, but also with reaching out to the poor. And it seems that the wicked servant in the gospel is punished only because he doesn’t do enough. Doesn’t move enough.

If our reflection were to go no deeper than this, then we might feel obliged simply to do more. To engage in more vigorous movement. Perhaps to join a new ministry in church, or to volunteer at a charity. All of which may actually be good and commendable actions, if we can sustain them. But could it be that, just as there is more to dancing than movement, there is also more to wisdom than simply engaging in more activity?

Consider where that wicked servant might actually have gone wrong. How did he become so paralysed by fear? Was it not because he failed to properly receive the precious gift that had been given to him? Commentators say that, in the parable, a talent signifies a very large sum of money. We might think of a million dollars, for example. Could it be that, if only the servant had considered the immense trust that must have accompanied the handing over to him of such a large sum, he might have been moved to match that gift with a more courageous and creative response?

Could it be that, if we find it difficult to reach out to the poor in more sustained and creative ways, it’s because we don’t ponder enough how much God has reached out to us, and continues to do so, especially here in the Eucharist? Preoccupied with securing our own greater comfort, we fail to listen to the silent cries of those who may lack even the most basic necessities. How then can we expect to match our movements to the rhythms of our merciful God?

I’m reminded of these words from a hymn we used to sing:

Dance, then, wherever you may be,

I am the Lord of the Dance, said he.

And I'll lead you all, wherever you may be.

And I'll lead you all in the Dance, said he.

Sisters and brothers, on this fourth World Day of the Poor, how might we better help one another to enter more fully into the Lord’s Dance today?

Travelling in Truth

 
32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Wisdom 6:12-16; Psalm 62(63):2-8; 1 Thessalonians 4:13-18; Matthew 25:1-13

Video: Disney Movies on YouTube 

My dear friends, do you know what a seasoned traveller looks like? It’s usually someone who takes care to research a travel destination, so as to prepare well for the trip. Bringing warm clothes, when visiting a cold climate. Or sunscreen, if remaining in the tropics. But preparing well for a journey involves more than just bringing the right stuff. When planning a mountain-climbing expedition, for example, even more important than having proper equipment, is to ensure that one is in good physical condition. The body must be trained for the trek. Otherwise it won’t be able to keep up.

This wisdom of a seasoned traveller is something like what the first reading encourages us to cultivate. The wisdom to know where one is headed, in order to prepare well for the trip. And the second reading tells us that our ultimate destination is to be with God in Christ. So that it doesn’t matter whether we are alive or dead when Jesus comes again in glory. For, even if we were to die before then, Christ will raise us up again. If we remain faithful, we shall stay with the Lord for ever. But how to remain faithful?

If it is true that our life’s journey stretches beyond time into eternity, if our final goal is indeed hidden – beyond the struggles of this passing life – in the enduring embrace of God in Christ, then how should we prepare for the trip? This is the crucial question that the gospel helps us to ponder.

The parable teaches us that being well-prepared for the Lord’s coming is like having enough oil for a lamp. And scholars say this points to something the gospel writer has already highlighted much earlier. In chapter 5 verse 20 – in the Sermon on the Mount – Jesus tells his disciples, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

To have oil for our lamps is to be trained in the righteousness of Christ, and to resist the hypocrisy of his enemies. It is to cultivate right relationship – with God, with oneself, and with others. Today, righteousness is seen especially in compassion shown to those who suffer, including Mother Earth. But even more basic than that, righteousness is shown in the care one takes to speak the truth, even when it may be more convenient to tell a lie. All of which may explain why the wise bridesmaids did not share their oil with the foolish ones. They couldn’t. For righteousness is more like physical conditioning than sunscreen. It can’t be borrowed or lent.

Some of us may still remember the story of Pinocchio, the little wooden puppet on an exciting quest to become a fully human boy. An especially significant moment on the puppet’s journey is when it learns the importance of speaking the truth. For its nose grows longer whenever it tells a lie! In an age of so-called alternative facts and fake news, isn’t this lesson in integrity something that we urgently need to learn anew?

Sisters and brothers, as we continue our pilgrimage into eternity, what must we do to help one another become ever more seasoned travellers today?

Reviewing Reception

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Readings: Exodus 22:20-26; Psalm 17(18):2-4,47,51; 1 Thessalonians 1:5-10; Matthew 22:34-40

Picture: cc @englishinvader

My dear friends, do you know the difference between good and bad reception? Back in the early days of television, before the arrival of cable, the quality of reception could mean the difference between a powerful movie experience, and an annoying struggle with a screen-full of static. Nowadays we might say the same about wifi.

This contrast between good and bad reception is also what we find in our Mass readings today. For when Jesus teaches that the greatest commandment of the Law consists both in loving God with one’s whole being, and loving one’s neighbour as oneself, the Lord isn’t really saying anything new. The first part of his teaching is already found in the book of Deuteronomy, and the second in Leviticus.

So why then do the Lord’s enemies want to kill him? If they know the Law so well, why are they unable to keep it? Isn’t this a question that we could ask ourselves too? Don’t we know the Law well enough? Why then do we fail to make time in our busy routines for God, and for the many who are in need of our help? Also, some say that our world already knows what is needed to eradicate hunger, and to address the global ecological crisis? Why then are we so slow to act?

The readings help to answer these questions by presenting us with a contrast between good and bad reception. In the first reading, God doesn’t just tell the people to be kind to the foreigners, widows and orphans living in their midst. God also tells them how to find the motivation to do so. By following God’s example. For God allows the cries of the needy to move God to respond mercifully. If he cries to me, I will listen, for I am full of pity. Isn’t this an example of good reception? 

In the second reading we’re told that it was with the joy of the Holy Spirit that (the Thessalonians) took to the gospel. Or, in another translation, they received the word with joy inspired by the Holy Spirit. And because the Thessalonians received the gospel in this way, it becomes for them more than just empty words, but an invigorating power, energising them to do what is right. Another example of good reception.

In contrast, the gospel says the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees… They heard about the power of the Lord’s teaching. But instead of welcoming the message, they choose to find fault with the messenger. An example of bad reception. And just as good reception brings not just knowledge of the Law, but also the power to keep it, bad reception leads to hypocrisy. The failure to practice what we preach. The inability to faithfully live what we claim to believe.

In the award-winning film, Scent of a Woman, a blind retired army colonel, played by Al Pacino, utters these poignant lines: Now I have come to the crossroads in my life. I always knew what the right path was. Without exception, I knew. But I never took it. You know why? It was too damn hard... Sisters and brothers, many are saying that our world too has come to a major crossroads. What must we do to improve our reception, so as to take the right path today?

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?