13th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Touching and Being Touched by God.

The First Reading of this Sunday, from the book of Wisdom, allows us to consider once certain fact about the created world: having been created by God, having come out of his hands, it is good, creation is wholesome, and not a destructive drug is among it. The whole of creation participates in the goodness of the One who created it. As the saints, like Francis of Assisi and Bonaventure, would realize and point out, creation manifests the love and goodness of the Lord; his creatures likewise provide another doorway through which the intellect could enter into the appreciation and contemplation of the goodness, love and wisdom of God, as we may find in the teaching of Thomas of Aquinas. We would likewise discover that all of creation is imbued with life, and perhaps this is at the core of the reading, as it is expressed right from the very start: God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living. His creation is one whole hymn of life. That creation was made for life is most certainly true concerning man, who is at the center of creation. 

Man has this vocation to life most especially. For God formed man to be imperishable: he was made to live. However, this life is not merely a matter of biological and chemical processes and reactions. At the center of creation, man is not merely called to life like a plant or an animal, far from it. The book of Wisdom says that the Lord had created man in the image of God’s own nature: the image of his own nature he made him. Man is called to the highest kind of life, one that finds its fulfillment in communion with God, who is Love. The vocation to life that man has is none other than to love. This is what is referred to by the fact that he was created in the image of God: the fact that man is able to love, to give himself, and to receive the offering of the other person, for love can merely be possible between persons, who are free beings.

However, while creation was intended to fulfillment because of the life and perfection that God had gifted it with—man most especially, the readings do not ignore the fact that death has made its mark in creation as well. It is precise to point out that it was not God who willed death to be present; it is rather through the envy of the devil that death has entered the world. Once again, most especially in the case of man, by death we are not merely talking about the cessation of biological activities and processes, nor the annulation of any chemical reaction within the organism, necessary for it to subsist and survive. Death here has a deeper, more profound meaning. It is the loss of life that is grounded on the fundamental refusal to love. This death is nothing else but SIN. We may remember the words of St. Paul which point out that the wages of sin is death (cfr. Rom 6:23). Through sin, death entered into the world (Rom 5:21): the original harmony characteristic of creation is distorted, a mere reflection of the chaos that sin has been able to wrought deep within the heart of man, because of that first disobedience. Sin is the refusal to love in the way that God has created us to love. By ignoring God’s invitation, by turning in on ourselves in our refusal to love as God loves, we die from within, and this death becomes even more evident from without, in the measure that sin has buried its roots in our innermost being. Sin is destructive, and it takes down the wonderful plan of life that God has had for us. It retards our growth as human persons called to a life that is full.

The Gospel reveals to us a ray of light, however. In Christ Jesus, the Father of mercies not abandoned sinful man to everlasting death. Through the humanity assumed by the Son, God continues to touch man, while allowing himself to be touched. Thus, in the Lord Jesus, God continues to bring about the new creation of man and nature, something that would come into full maturity in the end times, the Parousia. The Gospel according to Mark presents us with two stories: the raising of the daughter of Jairus, and the healing of a woman heavily burdened with a hemorrhage for twelve years. One was dead, the other was not far from it. The Lord touched one, not merely by his hand, but also by his word; the other was able to touch the Lord, not merely by reaching out to grab the hem of his clothing, but also importantly through her strong faith. Two different approaches, yet both came out of the experience of being with the Lord strengthened and with their life regained.

The experience of these two persons show us the fact of death and suffering in the world; a deeper reflection would guide us to consider the consequence of sin in man’s life as something that sucks man’s life dry from him, very much like a hemorrhage. Sin sucks the life given to us by God away from us; eventually it would leave us like corpses, corpses who talk and move, but corpses nonetheless.

When we touch and are touched by the Lord, life is regained by us, and we are strengthened to walk once again in the path that the Lord has wanted for us in the first place: life. Choose life, and not death, as the book of Exodus enjoins us. It is in the sacraments that the Lord continues to touch us, and that we continue to touch Jesus. In the Eucharist we partake of his Body and Blood; in confession we feel the weight of his healing hand freeing us from the burden of our sins. God is not a concept, that you could just need to understand and reflect on; he is a reality, a personal reality with whom we need to relate with; one who could touch us, and whom we could caress with our lives. Through word and sacrament the experience of Jairus’ daughter and the hemorrhagic woman is duplicated in our lives, and its results for us are greater, because we touch Jesus through faith.

Touching and being touched by the Lord not merely frees us from the death of sin in our lives; it also ought to spur us to touch that of others with the very hand of God. The Second Reading, from the second letter to the Corinthians, enjoins Christians to be concerned for others as well. Grounded on the example of Christ’s own generosity, who shared his own life to us that we may have life, Paul was enjoining his brethren in the faith to aid others in need: your abundance at the present time should supply their needs, so that their abundance may also supply yours, that there may be equality. Note that helping out doesn’t mean become bereft of what you yourself would need (“..Not that others should have relief while you are burdened..”); it means that others may have what need, basing on what you could offer them. In this way, sharing is not a burden, rather, it becomes an avenue for communion. This should apply not merely what pertains to the material needs of others, but also importantly the spiritual needs. For not all of us may be materially needy of things, but surely, all of us are needy of that which feeds the spirit.

Called to live a life of communion with God, we should seek this encounter with the Lord in our lives, primarily in His Word and through the sacraments. It is an encounter that should make us be concerned also for the welfare of our sisters and brothers, not merely for their material needs, but most especially for that which truly fills the heart and gives life to the spirit. AMEN.

FIRST READING: Wis. 1:13-15; 2:23-24

SECOND READING: 2 Cor 8:7,9, 13-15

GOSPEL: Mk 5:21-43

ASCENSION SUNDAY: OUR GLORY AND OUR HOPE.

God mounts his throne with shouts of joy; a blare of trumpets for our God!

Today, Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord, the liturgy continues to keep our gaze fixed on the same upward movement that had begun since the start of the Easter season, with the celebration of the resurrection of our Lord. With the Lord returning to his exalted place at the right hand of the Father, our upward gaze literally reaches new heights. The liturgical texts and reading most certainly could aid us in coming up with so many useful considerations for our Christian life, but I would like to summarize the significance of this great feast in three concepts: glory, mission and power.

God mounts his throne with shouts of joy; a blare of trumpets for our God! When the Word of God became flesh and dwelt among us, the silent beating of the Virgin Mother’s heart was the sole accompaniment of God’s coming; now, as Jesus Christ ascends into heaven, he does so with glory, adorned with the wounds of the Passion, which would never be erased, as they are proof of the fact that from now on Heaven is attainable for man, aided with the grace of God. But this glory is not only that of the Son of God, but we also find ourselves included in this explosion of glory. For as we, like the disciples, fix our gaze upon the figure of the Christ until the clouds hide him from our view, we realize that the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity doesn’t enter heaven in the same way as he left it: the humanity that he shares with us also gets to enter into the glory of the God. This fact presents to us what the Opening Prayer of the Mass fittingly expresses: the Ascension of Jesus is our glory and our hope. We are identified with Christ because he bears our humanity: God chose to become one of us. In his sermon on the Ascension of the Lord, St. Augustine says that the glory of Christ is ours too, because what occurs to the head also affects the body, and we are the Body of Christ. It’s much like the phenomenon of Jessica Sanchez in American Idol nowadays; we feel identified with her accomplishment because of that which we mutually possess: being Filipino.

At the same time the ascension is our hope, for if our humanity that Christ shares with us had entered into heavenly glory, we too will enter it. In the event of the Ascension, that which has been promised in the Resurrection becomes evident: our mortal humanity has been granted the hope of one day being transformed in sharing the immortal life of Christ himself, and enter into full communion with the Father, for whom the human heart was made, and which is restless until it rests in Him, to quote St. Augustine. One day we too will enter into this communion, not merely our souls, but as we are, embodied spirits.

Mission is another consideration that we have to make in this feast. Christ was sent by the Father to fulfill his plan of bringing man closer to him; now the Son returns to the Father gloriously triumphant. The mission of the Son does not end, however; as with the Father, so now the Son sends his disciples forth: as the Father has sent me, so am I sending you (Jn 20:21). Among the first words spoken by the Risen Christ were those commissioning his Apostles to do the same as he did. In the Gospel today these were the last words spoken by Christ before he ascended into the right hand of his Father: Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature (Mk 16:15). The Church throughout the centuries has been faithful to this command since its humble beginnings, and we are to take part in this great enterprise. Each of us has received that mission.

To preach the Gospel is have power. Power is the third concept that is contained in the message of the feast. That which should be proclaimed is none other than the Good News of salvation, as mentioned by in the reading: whoever believes and is baptized will be saved (Mk 16:16). These signs will accompany those who believe: in my name they will drive out demons, they will speak new languages. They will pick up serpents with their hands, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not harm them. they will lay hands on the sick and they will recover (Mk 16:19). The Gospel that has the power to transform the world and society, battle the evil in it, neutralize its poison, allow for it to be a space of unity where there are all languages are understood because they speak of charity, and heal this present society that we have that, among other things, is evidently sick.

We have to realize once more that the message of the Gospel is a positive one. We live in a society that sees the Gospel of Christ as a gospel of prohibitions, one that inhibits and represses. No, the Gospel of Christ is the only way that leads to true freedom. We have it upon ourselves to show this truth in our lives. It is the Gospel that allows us to say “yes” to life, to secure a place where love can truly grow and where human life is really nurtured and protected, where man’s rights are truly discovered, respected and even loved. This cannot be possible in a society where the Gospel is not present. And where can the Gospel be found? Not in leather-bound books does the Gospel of Christ reside, but in hearts of flesh that are always open to the caress of the Spirit of God.

This final point should allow us to resolve once again to carry this Gospel in our hearts, to promote it in our lives, asking ourselves in what way could I share the Good News as Christ has commanded me to, according to the particular circumstance that I live in. It is Christ who enlightens and teaches, but it is equally true that He counts on us to make it more attractive in the world that we live in. Basically, the apostolate of the Christian with regards to the Gospel is this: allow its beauty to shine so that others may come to know and love it, and in loving it, be transformed by it.

May Mary, assumed body and soul into heavenly glory by her Son, procure for us the grace to do this in our life. AMEN, ALLELUIA!

FIRST READING: Acts 1:1-11

SECOND READING: Eph 1:17-23

GOSPEL: Mk 16: 15-20

SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER: WHAT LOVE IS

I wanna know what love is…I want you to show me…perhaps these words of the song popularized by so many singers may serve to situate us around the central message of the liturgical reading this Sunday, the sixth of Easter. It may be an uncommon approach, but it serves. The readings of the Easter season have revolved on our identification with Christ in the new life that he has won for us through his death and resurrection: now it is not I who live, but Christ living in me (cfr. Gal 2:20). This life is given to us in baptism, and finds its ultimate and fruitful expression in love, a love that is none other but the union we live with Jesus Christ. Now, this Sunday, the readings move to us to consider another aspect of this new life of love: the message is for us to be coherent in our love for God. What does this mean?

The main consequence of love is union; love is nothing else than being identified with the one whom we love, with the beloved. This is a union that is made evident especially whenever we sync ourselves with what our beloved wants. This is expressed clearly when St. Augustine mentions that Perfect love of God means the complete union of our will with God's .

“If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love…you are my friends if you do what I command you”. These are the words that we hear from our Lord in the Gospel of this Sunday; they allow us to see the necessary relation between the concept of love and that of the commandments. Much before Christ, the commandments of God given over to Moses was the perfect expression of the divine will, according to the faith of the people of Israel. The Torah (the Law) was the supreme manifestation of the Lord to his people, the stipulation of the covenant made between them as the people of God and the Lord who claimed them as his own portion. It was at the center of their faith. But the Law of Sinai was given merely in preparation for its upcoming fulfillment in Jesus Christ, in whom, being the perfect image of the invisible God (cfr. Col. 1:15), the face of the God who is love is able to seen at last by man. It is in Jesus Christ that the commandments of God find their supreme expression, the law of love for God and neighbor: “Love one another”.

This love, however, could not be done in just any way. Man cannot define love all by himself. This is something we tend to do actually: take it and define it according to our convenience, to shape it and mold it according to our comfort. Such attempts at defining what love is, left to our own device, has shown disastrous results. I am not saying that man is incapable of defining love, but rather that he should not do it on his own: he should allow love to define him first. This was the reason why in the Gospel passage of John, Jesus was quick to add: “…as I have loved you”. Love—man’s love—is perfectly only in the measure that it is akin to the divine love which the Lord has shown to us through his own example. What then is love? “In this is love, not that we have loved God, but that he has loved us and sent his son as expiation for our sins” (1 Jn. 4:10). These words taken from the letter of John in the First Reading are but a mere echo of those of the Lord Jesus when he said: “no one has greater love than this, that one lays down his life for his friends” (Jn 15:3). Autobiographical words are these by Christ, whose love was the ultimate expression of generosity, done to the last drop of blood and to the ounce of life offered upon the Cross, in obedience to his Father’s will. Seeing this in Christ, we realize that this is what love is: the perfect obedience, the perfect identification to the will of the Father, who had sent him to the world not to condemn it, but rather to save it. This love of the Son of God was the opened the well-spring from which gushed the waters that gave us life. Only this kind of love can make us truly free, the only one powerful enough to transform us from being slaves of sin into friends of God, as the Lord has expressed it: “I call you friends…” (Jn. 15:15). When we allow this love to touch our life, it begins to transform our relationships, our marriage, our priesthood, friendships, our professional life, etc., making then into spaces where we exercise the true freedom of a child of God, a freedom which the secularist world constantly promises us, but is incapable of giving.

The message narrows down to this: we cannot say that we do love God and yet refuse to do what He wants of us, no being obedient to His will, expressed in the commandments. The love for God, our identity as Christians, bears its fruit in our moral life. In terms of morality, the Magisterium of the Church, its authority coming from Christ and sustained with the aid of the Holy Spirit, is our motherly teacher and sure guide.

Nowadays, the constant temptation for the Christian is to be politically correct, most especially in terms of morality and the issues surrounding it in our present society. Living the life of Christ in us makes us realize that we cannot afford to always be politically correct in our moral options. The mark of the Christian is not political correction, but rather obedience to the law of God. This comes to say that the commitment to Christ and the love for his Church should not leave us indifferent in terms of our moral choices, and in the face of the moral issues that are present in society. We cannot say we really love God, and yet at the same time support—even implicitly—the contraceptive mentality that is getting more prevalent in society. We cannot profess truthfully that we are united with what God wants, and yet agree to a definition of marriage other than it being solely between a man and a woman; one cannot say that he is committed to Christ, but is indifferent to the abuse of persons, to the corruption and injustice present in society. The indication that God’s love has finally come to dwell in our hearts is that in does not leave us indifferent. The love of God and for neighbor should lead us to live coherent lives, and fight against all of this evil in society.

The Word of God should lead us then to examine our hearts, and ask for the strength of the Holy Spirit in our lives, especially as we come closer to the great feast of Pentecost, so that, as the Opening Prayer of the Mass suggests, “we may express in our lives the love we celebrate”. AMEN, ALLELUIA!

FIRST READING: Acts 10:25-26; 34-35; 44-48.

SECOND READING: 1 Jn 4:7-10

GOSPEL: Jn 15: 9-17.

FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER: FROM THE VINE TO THE BRANCHES

The imagery that the Lord presents in the Gospel for this Sundays jibes very well with the season in which we are presently in, and I am not merely referring to Easter. For us who are here in more temperate zones in the northern hemisphere, we are already in the middle of spring. This may raise some concerns for those who are suffer from allergies or are particularly sensitive to pollen, but for the greater part, it is very much evident that the barrenness and the hard cold of winter have given way to the freshness of spring. Where once there was merely barren earth, fresh shoots have sprung up, and seemingly dried twigs have brought forth fresh green shoots. Spring shows us that the earth, which seemed dead, is actually alive. This brings to consider once again the message of the liturgical season of Easter, which we are in.

To sum it all, the gift and grace of Easter is nothing less than new life in Christ. This new life we have all received in Baptism, and in the other sacraments of initiation that go with it—Confirmation and the Eucharist. Through these sacraments, with us being inserted in the death of Christ, we are also brought back to life with him. It is not the life that we used to live before: now it is something new, because before of we have been slaves of sin and death, now we are sons and daughters, co-heirs with the only begotten Son of God.

In the Gospel this Sunday, the Lord teaches us that the only way to keep this new life going within us is to live it in union with him, and in order to express this, he resorts to the image of the vine and the branches: “I am the vine, you are the branches”. The image conveys something that seems to be quite evident to us: branches cannot live on their own; they need to be attached to that which truly channels the sap that gives life to them, which is none other than the vine. Likewise, in order to live this new life, which has been given to us by the Lord as a grace—a free gift, we need to be in union with Jesus Christ. This is what Christian life basically is: a life lived in union with Christ, separated from whom we can do nothing. It is a life that is meant to be fruitful, and by this we mean that it bring forth fruits of holiness. Jesus says “Whoever remains in me and I in him will bear much fruit”: the fruit referred to in this saying is the holiness of life made fruitful by union with Christ (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2074). A Christian cannot afford to be barren; no joy could be had in being found without fruit (remember that the only creature cursed by the Lord was a fig tree, doomed to be sterile forever).

Where do we live this union with Christ? Basically it is found in our life of prayer, which is none else but being with him. Prayer is actually a relationship, very much like the ones that we have. The quality of our relationships depends on the intensity of our union. We prefer to stay more with those whom we love more, and this love transforms us; the lesser time and attention we spend, the lesser love that we cultivate in our hearts, and the less we are transformed by these people, and vice versa. Prayer is union with Jesus Christ, Son of God and our Lord: the moments that we spend with him in the silence of our ordinary life, the things that we do out of love for him in secret—this is prayer.

Union is also fostered in our sacramental life: Jesus continues to touch us through the sacraments in the most profound way. If one doesn’t go to Mass every Sunday as he should, allowing himself to be touched by the Lord in the liturgy, I doubt that that person could actually maintain such a relationship. In the spiritual life, a so-called long-distance relationship simply does not exist: or we are personally touched by Christ in the most profound way through the sacraments, or we don’t allow ourselves to be touched at all. The liturgy of this Sunday clearly reminds us of this contact, when in one of the prayers of the Mass we here that by this holy exchange of gifts (the bread and wine turned into the Lord’s Body and Blood), we share in God’s divine life (cfr. Prayer over the Gifts, 5^th Sunday of Easter).

Just as the branches go green, flourish and bring forth fruit because of the sap that flows into them from the great vine, so we too grow in spiritual gifts as we are united to Christ. In the First Reading are made to see the situation of the community of believers in the Acts of the Apostles: The Church throughout all Judea, Galilee and Samaria was at peace. It was being built up and walked in the fear of the Lord, and with the consolation of the Spirit it grew in numbers (Acts 9:30-31). Separated from Christ, we cannot hope to grow or progress; far from his grace we do not even halt, but rather retrocede. Instead of growing up life strong cedars that grow tall and strong, providing shade and shelter, we get stunted like bonsais, interesting to look at perhaps, but useless.

It is only being in union with Jesus that we could heed the admonition in the Second Reading, taken from the first letter of John: Children, let us love not in word or speech, but in deed and in truth. There is nothing more pathetic than a Christian who is incapable of loving, and who cannot profess this love in his life. A Christian who does not love is a sad one, and when a Christian is sad, that is very serious indeed. For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that whoever believes in him may not perish, but may have eternal life(Jn 3:16); my commandment is this: love one another as I have loved you (cfr. Jn 15:12): love is at the heart of the Gospel message, and we live in the fullness of this message as we make this message alive in us.

May our union with Christ show us how to live this love concretely in our ordinary life.  With the sap of grace form the Vine, who is Jesus, flowing in us, may we live according to the newness of life that he has won for us with his death and resurrection. AMEN, ALLELUIA!

FIRST READING: Acts 9:26-31

SECOND READING: 1Jn 3:18-24

GOSPEL: Jn 15:1-8

FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER: SHEPHERD AND STONE REJECTED

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want, in verdant pastures he gives me repose….who among us could not be familiar with these words of the twenty-third psalm, which for generations has presented comfort and light for many a troubled soul? The liturgy this Sunday, the fourth of Easter, brings the image of the shepherd to mind. As we hear the words of the Lord in the Gospel: I am the good shepherd (Jn 10:11), we are brought face to face with an image which scriptural tradition of Israel has always used in order to express the love that the Lord has for his people. From of old, the people of Israel had been an agricultural people, devoted to the cultivation of land and of animals. In their life of faith, the God of Israel had revealed to them gradually the good news of his love; through simple images taken from the chores and realities of daily life, man came to know of God who watched over them more than a vine-grower did over his vineyard, and cared for them more than they themselves cared for their own livestock. Israel was not only the chosen portion of the Lord; he was their shepherd, who jealously watched and guided them faithfully, leading them to greener pastures. The shepherd became the figure that symbolized an authority based on solicitude and love for those whom the shepherd exercised his dominion. The kings and priests of Israel were considered as shepherds of the people, inasmuch as they received the mandate from the Lord, chief Shepherd of Israel, to watch and protect. These shepherds of Israel had their own shortcomings and infidelities; through his prophets God promised to raise a shepherd who would definitely take care of his sheep, Israel.

The prophecies come to their fulfillment in the figure of Christ. He is the Good Shepherd who takes good care of his sheep. Like in the Old Testament, the image of Jesus as the Good Shepherd presents the love that God has for each and everyone of us. Christian art from the earliest centuries have been inspired by this image, as it presents the reality of God’s love for man.

But how is the love of a shepherd?  I am the good shepherd. A good shepherd lays down his live for the sheep. This love is not a mere sentiment, but one whose proof of authenticity is the ultimate sacrifice of a life generously offered on the Cross. The First Reading and the Responsorial Psalm present to us another image found in the Scriptures, that of the stone rejected by the builders. It points to the passion of the Christ, who was rejected and subjected to suffering and death, so as to be able to be the source of life for us all, and so as to be the cornerstone of a new building: the Church.

At one point we might see no relation between the two images, but our reflection would lead us to consider that Christ is the Good Shepherd whose love made him offer his life for his sheep, an offering which consisted in the passion, death and resurrection. The love of that the Lord Jesus had for us did not make him only give up his life for us by stretching his arms on the wood of the Cross-, suspended between heaven and earth. This is why the Father loves me, because I lay down my life in order to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own. I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again. In order that we may have life, the Lord offered his on the Cross, in order to rise up again from the dead, giving us the opportunity to live with Him. He is the Good Shepherd because he laid down his life for us, and he claims it back again, so that we might truly live a life that knows no end. This life promised to us is the very life of the Son of God, not that of a servant nor a slave, but that of a child of God, and it is in this that we could see the extent to which the love of God has favored us, as we see in the Second Reading: See what love the Father has bestowed on us that we may be called children of God. Yet so we are! (1 Jn 3:1)

I am the Good Shepherd. This is something which ought to stimulate us in our Christian life. Because, inserted in Christ through baptism, we are ourselves are called to be shepherds. St. Thomas Aquinas comments that this is not possible however, if we do not identify ourselves with the very love of Christ, if we do not live it. In this Good Shepherd Sunday, we are called to remember in a very special way the pastors of the Church, that they may be truly shepherds after the heart of God, and that the Lord of the harvest may continue to raise us men who would shepherd the Church with the love of Christ.

But this Sunday is not only about our priests and bishops. It also ought to remind us that we too have some shepherding to do. Each one of us is entrusted with the care of persons in one way or the other. And shepherding is nothing else but nurturing: helping people grow. We cannot make this happen without generosity and sacrifice on our part. In the same that Christ the Good Shepherd laid down his life for us, we too have to lay down our lives for others. Touched by the light and grace of the Risen Christ, parents may learn to give themselves more generously for their children, ensuring that what these receive are things which are truly for their good; lay leaders in the Church are empowered to live fully their vocation to be the yeast that makes society rise; civil authorities become prudent and unselfish in their commitment to seek the true good of their constituents, and so on and so forth.

Lord Jesus, Good Shepherd of us all, may your love for each of us bear fruit in the Church and beyond its borders, so that we may be shepherds for a world that has so much need of the warmth of your love. AMEN, ALLELLUIA!

FIRST READING: Acts 4:8-12

SECOND READING: 1 Jn 3:1-2

GOSPEL: Jn 10:11-18

First Sunday of Lent: SPEAKING OF THE DEVIL

The glory of these forty days (borrowing the words of a song well-known and sung during this season), aside from giving us more opportunities to live the Christian calling to holiness through interior conversion, resides also on the fact that it serves as a prelude to the great baptismal liturgy within the Paschal Triduum (Holy Thursday evening to the Easter Vigil),celebrated on the night before Easter Sunday. Lent has a baptismal aspect, because it prepares us to celebrate the event of the suffering, death and resurrection of Our Lord, in which we all share in through our baptism. Celebrating this season with this in mind helps us to take better advantage of the graces that are offered to us during Lent.

“Do you renounce Satan and all his works?” Among the questions asked during the liturgy of baptism brings to mind the figure of the prince of darkness. Nowadays, the mention of the concept would bring about diverse reactions. People could be indifferent, or be vaguely (sometimes morbidly) interested, others cynical, while others would smile and would even imagine cute baby devils dressed in red and sporting cute little red horns (if there are cute cherubs, is it out of the way to imagine cute devils as well?) Speaking of the devil, I remember the late archbishop Fulton Sheen talking about a woman returning home after an afternoon of rather carefree shopping. When her husband saw the bill, he asked his wife rather testily: “The moment you tried on the dress, didn’t you tell the devil, “Get behind me Satan!”? The wife saucily replied, “Well as a matter of fact I did, and he told me it looked really good from the behind”.

The Spirit drove Jesus out into the desert, and he remained in the desert for forty days, tempted by Satan. This Sunday brings us to consider the figure of Jesus being led into the silent wilderness. In the course of his public life he would seek refuge time and again in deserted spaces in order to be alone with his Father. But in the gospel episode, not only is he alone with his Father; in the desert the first confrontation between the Christ and Satan takes place. Jesus is tempted by the Devil, though not like us, tempted even from within through our human weakness. The Lord perceives the subtle insinuations of the enemy from the outside.

The Devil. Satan. Beelzebul. Belial. Lucifer. On June 29, 1972, Pope Paul VI caused consternation among many when he said in a homily that “the smoke of Satan has entered into the temple of God”. Many people where puzzled at the mention of the archenemy, not only perhaps because the fact that the Pope would mention it at all was perturbing, but also because many people had relegated the figure of the man’s greatest enemy to oblivion. But the fact is, the Devil continues to be alive in this modern day and age, and not only alive, but also active, very active. Pope John Paul II made mention of this fact when he made a visit to the sanctuary of St. Michael in Gargano, Italy, affirming that the devil is indeed alive and at work in the world, and that the disorder that we see in society, and the internal division in man is not only due to the effects of original sin, but is also because of the dark and infesting activity of Satan, of this saboteur of man’s equilibrium (cfr. May 24, 1987, Sanctuary of St. Michael, Gargano)

As we ponder on the encounter between the Light and the forces of darkness in the gospel this first Sunday of Lent we are invited to consider that we ourselves have to wage this battle. Nobody is immune from the attacks of the Devil; in fact this was the reason why the Lord chose to be attacked by Satan, because He desired to be identified with all of us who are always attacked and tempted, so that we may be identified with Him who came out victorious from the fight. Our Lenten journey through the desert alerts us to the fact that the Christian struggle for holiness is also a struggle against the forces of evil, evil that is not a mere cosmic force, but who is a personal being, an intelligent and powerful one, who has many names and assumes many faces so as to deceive and destroy. The devil is capable of inflicting us harm in many ways, but normally and more efficiently he acts in this world inducing us to abandon the side of God, to cease in the struggle to be holy, to leave the life of union with God by abandoning the life of prayer. He is the Tempter, and it is through temptation that he deceives and drags more souls hellbound.

Temptation in itself is not a sin, as we know; but one has to keep well in mind that between temptation and sin there is a fine line. Being realistic as a Christian entails accepting that life is of temptations: life is never a straight line. Christians of the Middle Ages had marble labyrinths etched on the floors of the great cathedrals that they built, not for any magical or esoteric reason, but rather to enunciate this fact: it is a journey through countless twists, turns and dead ends, but that finally leads to the center, the end of a long and difficult journey.

We ought not see temptation as a mere invitation to sin, though effectively it is. In Jesus Christ, this becomes an opportunity to defeat the Evil One. St. Augustine of Hippo, himself not a stranger to temptation, writes that “no one knows himself except through trial, or receives a crown except after victory, or strives except after an enemy or temptations”. A temptation is not merely an invitation to go down and bite the dust, as Satan would have us do; aided always with the grace of God—and our common sense—it is an opportunity to trust in the power of grace over wickedness, and rise up.

Faced with temptation, no one is ever alone, though the Devil would have us believe that we are. Commenting on his own experience of grace, St. Augustine comments that “the one who cries from the ends of the earth is in anguish, but is not left on his own”(Commentary on the Psalms). Ages back, St. Paul had said in the same vein: “where sin abounds, grace abounds all the more”(cfr. Rom 5:20). Always and in everywhere, the grace of God is ready for us, for as long as we ask for it in the opportune time. It is also very important of course to always avoid any occasion that could induce us to sin. If one plays with fire, as they say, expect to be burnt. Much common sense is needed for sanctity.

Finally, the episode of Jesus being tempted in the desert ends in victory; and this should be something that urges us on in the struggle. I would end by turning once again to the Doctor of Grace, St. Augustine: If in Christ we have been tempted, in him we overcome the devil. Do you think only of Christ’s temptations and fail to think of his victory? See yourself as tempted in him, and see yourself as victorious in him. Amen.

7th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (B): THE CALL TO RENEWAL AND CONVERSION

As we begin our reflection for this 7^th Sunday in ordinary time, it seems to me that a common theme could be observed all throughout the past Sundays in which we have reflected on the weekly Word that is celebrated in the liturgy. This theme we see once again in the Sunday readings. At the very heart of the preaching of Jesus was the coming of the kingdom of God. It was to be a kingdom unlike any other that the Jews, to whom his preaching was first directed, had ever known, but one that they have long been anticipating. It was to be a new era of peace, wherein everything that the people of Israel had lost would be restored, where all of the prophecies concerning the recovery of Israel’s former glory would be realized and even surpassed; it was one that would be accomplished by the Messiah, the Anointed One of God. The Jews were thinking that this restoration would come through external structures and through an epic revolution. This was one reason why they were greatly confused and scandalized when they understood that it was not to come from there. The basis of their hopes we could hear in the First Reading, where the Lord declares to Israel the renovation that he was to make of the present state of things: See, I am doing something new! In the desert I make a way; in the wasteland, rivers. This renewal is the sure step towards the salvation that God gives as a gift to man, for when before there had been a seemingly endless expanse of deserted land, now there is a way that limits it; where before everything was lifeless, now life is promised because of the waters that flow through it. It is important for one to be made new in order to share in this salvation promised by God.

This renewal, as people would learn, and as the Lord Jesus himself would announce in his preaching, was not to come from without: it was a renewal that would start from within, one that would only begin when the greatest obstacle to the coming of the kingdom has been removed, one that is none other than sin. From the onset, one realization that could be had from the Word of God today is that sin is a firm obstacle to this renewal. Basically, taking away this obstacle from our lives, in order to be renewed is nothing more than undergoing conversion. This is at the root of the Christian life. Conversion is nothing less than responding to this call of renewal that starts from within. It is taking heed to the imperative call that tells us to change the direction which until now we had been taking: before, we had been going our own way, much like sheep without a shepherd; now, heeding the call of Christ, we change course in order to follow Him more closely. Conversion, renewal is the prime law of the Christian vocation, for it means nothing else other than following Christ, and following Christ means rejecting everything that is not of Christ: sin. With this in mind, one could understand the urgency of the message of the psalm, which says: Lord, heal my soul, for I have sinned against you!

As we may have pondered last Sunday, sin holds this destructive power over us; much like in the case of the paralytic of today’s gospel, it deprives us of the strength to do good and to live in freedom as we should. Only the merciful love of God can restore the vitality that we have lost by sin; it is a love that we see in the person of Jesus Christ, whom we come to touch most especially in the sacraments. The sacraments, especially the Eucharist and Reconciliation, give us the strength to live according to the love of God, because they bring us the gift of grace. Much like what the waters of a river do to an arid wasteland, grace revives and nourishes the person, proportioning him with the more strength to live according to the freedom of the sons and daughters of God

Furthermore, grace sustains us in the struggle to follow Christ always. Conversion is not a matter of the moment: it is the work of a lifetime. Every moment gives us the opportunity to face Christ, to start all over again if we fall down, and to renew our commitment to take up our own cross (whenever it slides off our shoulders due to our own lack of faith) and follow Him. The everyday struggle of following Jesus in our daily life should not make us lose heart at the sight of the difficulty that it poses to us. The Second Reading, taken from the second letter of Paul to the Corinthians, shows us that God is faithful, and that His fidelity is our guarantee that the means to victory over sin and death will always be at our disposal. After all, He has put his seal on us and given the Spirit in our hearts as a just installment.

These are considerations that could as well help us as we prepare ourselves for Lent, which is a specially indicated time for personal conversion, a daily struggle of a lifetime, in which the aid of God’s grace and the strength of the Spirit would never be lacking.

May the Lord Jesus be our constant companion and model as we continue to heed his call to be holy like the heavenly Father, a vocation that is translated into the effort of renewal and conversation in every moment of our lives. Amen. 

FIRST READING: Is 43:18-19; 21-22; 24b-25

SECOND READING: 2 Cor 18-22

GOSPEL: Mk 2:1-12

6th SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME (B) THE CONFESSION OF SINS, A CONFESSION OF FAITH

Perhaps one of the most moving scenes of the Gospel—the narratives of the evangelists are full of them—is the one that we have this Sunday, the sixth in Ordinary Time. In the encounter between Jesus and the leper, we can almost feel the tension between the latter (whose name is not mentioned, but who is rather known through the condition that he suffers), driven by his need to be healed, and the Lord Jesus, who is moved by compassion. Were we to place ourselves in the skin (no pun intended) of the leper, we would be able to understand his desperate plea to the Lord: “If you wish, you can make me clean”. We are all aware what being a leper in biblical times means; the First Reading, taken from the book of Leviticus, which explains the laws by which the people of Israel would have to live by, shows how people stricken with skin disease—especially leprosy—are to be treated: he was to keep his garments rent, his head uncovered, and his beard muffled; he was to advertise the fact of his ailment to others, so that they would keep far away from him; furthermore, he was to live outside of the settlement, rejected, until he is healed of the disease (though if one were to be truly stricken with leprosy in those times, there was very little hope for that). In a few words, to be stricken with it was not merely shameful (the rent clothing, the shaved and uncovered head, the muffled beard—a sign of manly beauty—and the public advertisement of uncleanliness were all indicative of the public shame that the sufferer had to bear); the leper was actually regarded dead. True, the deformed and degenerated state of the sufferer merely reminded everybody that he was on his way to the grave. As I write these words, my eyes rest on a beautiful painting which captures the scene. At the feet of Jesus one sees the leper. Barely dressed in a shroud-like garment, he appears as if he rises from the tomb to new life.

New life. For the leper, this was what the Lord was for him when he happened to pass by. Everything seems doomed for the tomb until he prostrates himself before Jesus and makes his request, moving in its humility, and yet full of faith. Jesus, moved with pity, stretched out his hand, touched him and said: “I do will it. Be made clean”. The result was immediate: the disease instantly left him, and he was made clean.

The fact that the leper didn’t have any name invites us to see ourselves within the skin of the leper. Like him, we are also known for our weaknesses; before the Holy One, all of us stand as sinners: filthy, ragged, impure, walking carcasses. For all the glamour and attraction that it may use to tempt us into sin, the devil, the flesh and the world will always leave us like the leper: with garments torn, our heads shaven like criminals, and our own beauty marred, we are nothing more like the garbage and refuse thrown outside the walls. Sin makes us ugly; not only does it uglify, but it also divides. Not only does it divide, but in the final instance, it kills: it destroys the life that God has placed in our hearts, it disfigures His likeness in our souls, and thwarts the plan that he has for each of us.

And so, like the leper, we go to Jesus, who is always for us with a heart full of compassion and pity. Compassion and forgiveness has this power to rebuild what has been torn down. In the sacrament of Confession the Lord patiently waits for us. In a society bombarded by showy senate trials, one could appreciate that in the confessional we could find the only tribunal in the world wherein one’s sincere declaration of guilt acquits him of his crimes.

It is in the sacrament of Confession that Christ does what he did in the gospel: he stretched out his hand, touched and said to him, “I do will it. Be clean”. In this marvelous sacrament, the Lord extends his hand, the divine Healer touches us, and through His word, makes us clean. The forgiveness of sins is not done through mere wishful thinking. Through the ministry of the Church, the Lord grants us pardon and peace, as the formula of sacramental absolution reminds us. In the ministry of the priest—a sinner like all of us, in the same need of God’s pardon—Christ continues to touch, heal, pardon and strengthen. What more direct way could there be of knowing the Good News of God’s mercy, when we can hear the words of divine pardon through the mouth of the priest? Could there be any more direct way of making our confession, when we are really sure that we are heard, and we ourselves hear the words “I absolve you from your sins”?

In order to see this one precisely needs the faith that comes from God; the grace to believe in that forgiving WORD that has made itself flesh and that dwells among us, this time in the ministry of His priests, in the ministry of His Church. The confession of sins is a confession of faith, the same faith that pushed the leper to say “If you wish, YOU can make me clean”. It is precisely for this reason that it was the Lord’s will that the forgiveness of sins be done through the ministry of those whom He had chosen to continue His work on earth.

With Christ touching us through this sacrament, the life of grace is restored to us: we are brought back to life. St. Irenaeus once said, “the glory of God is man truly alive”. We cannot give glory to God while remaining in the death of sin. However, with lives animated by God’s grace, we could live according to the way St. Paul admonishes us in the Second Reading, in the letter to the Corinthians: whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do everything for the glory of God.

May the example of the leper move us always to go out and encounter Christ in the sacrament of Confession, so that in receiving the forgiveness of sins, we may be able to give praise to God with pure lives, and express the joy of salvation that lies in our hearts through works of love toward our neighbor. Amen.

FIRST READING: Lv. 13:1-2, 44-46

SECOND READING: 1 Cor 10: 31-11:1

GOSPEL: Mk. 1: 40-45.

5th Sunday in Ordinary Time: THE GRACE OF GOD'S TOUCH

Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?

Though this may seem like the status in someone’s wall in Facebook or Twitter account, it does express one reality of the life that we have on earth. As we enter into the readings this Sunday, the evident pessimism in the book of Job would strike us as something quite actual. It is true that life is beautiful and precious, but oftentimes this all the more seems to accentuate the also the fact that not everything in life is rosy. Yes, life is beautiful BUT…there’s always that “but” in everything that we could say about life. This shows how the ancient author of the book of Job knew much about life: the wisdom books of the Bible show us that the life we have here is not perfect, nor can it ever be; the perfection that we can ever perceive and contemplate in this plane of existence is finite, that is, limited and always flawed.

In a society that is governed by laws that are supposed to give to each his due, we have to accept the fact that full justice could never be served. In a world wherein all of us have made a common cause to fight against poverty and hunger, we have to be realistic enough that we could never end with poverty in this life; we could only try as much. The human mind can never be satisfied fully by the manifestations of beauty offered by the arts, nor man’s hunger to know more ever be fulfilled here in this life.

This is the reality that Job in the First Reading shows us. Contemplating this panorama is enough for us to wish for death, for truly enough, the contemplation of the harsh reality of life is an invitation to discouragement and despair.

But the liturgy, though wishing us to keep in mind this reality, suddenly changes its mood as we come upon the Responsorial Psalm. It seems to take us by the hand in order to direct our trustful gaze to the Lord, a trust that finds it full expression in the psalmist’s song: Praise the Lord, who heals the broken hearted! Broken hearted we may be for many reasons, not only because Valentine’s Day is fast approaching, and we have no one to share it with (I’d say most of the time being alone on that day could be better), but there is never any reason that is good enough for the follower of Christ to be discouraged or be found lacking in hope.

We find the reason for this in the Gospel. Last week we have contemplated on how the words of Jesus affected people with its authority and power. This Sunday we are invited to look at the power and the grace that flowed not only through his words, but also through his touch. The Gospel presents to us a panorama of a suffering humanity: people afflicted with disease, possessed by unclean spirits, people burdened with their doubts, with their problems, with despair. In the midst of this crowd, Jesus passes and touches them. He takes Peter’s mother-in-law by the hand and heals her; people bring him their sick, and they are made whole by his touch. By his very presence the possessed are freed from their demons.

Christ healing the mother of Simon Peter 

by Bridges, John (fl.1818-1854)

In scriptural tradition these wonders are indicative of God’s presence among his people: the blind see, the deaf hear, the lame walk, and the poor have the good news preached to them (cf. Is 35:5/ 61:1/ Lk. 7:22; Mt. 11:5). In Jesus Christ, God touches man and makes him whole; God, who created the universe out of nothing, and imprinting on it that goodness that comes from Him, restores a broken creation to its original goodness.

This is virtually the Good News of our salvation: God had touched us and we can touch God, in Jesus Christ, who is the perfect image of the invisible God (Col 1:15); he is the EMMANUEL! God-with-us! Despite of its imperfection, there is life and hope to had in the world; there is beauty, there is reason to be glad and to be hopeful, no matter how ugly things may turn out to be, because we have been embraced by God in Jesus, and in Jesus Christ, God’s face can be caressed by human hands.

In our life, this presence of the Lord comes to us in the sacraments, sacred signs through which the Lord enters into contact with us in a way that actually affects us. That is why it is important for us Christians to be constant in our reception of the sacraments, particularly the Holy Eucharist and Confession. These sacred signs, these sacraments, usher into our lives the very presence of Christ, source of all joy and peace, the firm rock upon which we may stand as we continue to walk through life with its storms and crises. Furthermore, of no lesser importance is the life of constant union with the Lord that we must have, which is no other than prayer. In the Gospel, Jesus teaches us how important it was for him to be always united with His heavenly Father: Rising very early before dawn, he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed (Mk. 1:35)

Despite of the drudgery of life, God is with us! This is the Good News to which the Apostles, and then the first Christians, and through them, the Church—catholic  and apostolic—had entrusted their energies in preaching. In the Second Reading, This is why one could just understand St. Paul when he exclaimed: Woe to me if I do not preach the Gospel! (1 Cor 9:16). This news is too beautiful, too great to be kept personal. Paul—and the Church with him, both then and now—understood the wonderful novelty that this message presented, that it simply had to be shared.

This leads us therefore to reflect if we have recognized this presence of Jesus Christ, and have invited Him into our lives. Not only will his presence make us see things in a different light, but will move us to share it with others, not necessarily through our words, but importantly with our lives. “Preach the Gospel always” said St. Francis of Assisi, “if necessary, use words”.

May the life of Jesus Christ, that flows into use through prayer and in partaking of His own life through the sacraments, always be our strength to go on through life, and take part in the new evangelization of this world!

Amen.

5^TH SUNDAY IN ORDINARY TIME, Year B.

FIRST READING: Jb 7:1-4, 6-7

SECOND READING: 1 Cor 9: 16-19, 22-23

GOSPEL: Mk 1: 29-39

4th Sunday In Ordinary Time(B): LIVIN' AND LOVIN'

The Transfiguration Lodovico Carracci 1594

As one could surmise, the whole story presented in Bible is that of man searching for God, and that of God going out to meet man halfway in order to endow him with his grace. This, in other terms, is none other than the history of salvation. The First Reading of this Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time shows this desire in man to meet God in a more intimate way. Within Israel is that yearning to see God face to face, to hear His word as it comes from His lips, and to know Him as He is. This knowledge, in the understanding of the people of Israel, is that which is precisely meant by salvation. But on the other hand, Israel knows that this sanctity of God is too much for them to bear; certain death results from gazing on His face, and that is how one could understand the importance of intermediaries in the faith of Israel: on who would speak the words of God to His people, one from whom Israel would feel the firm hand of the Lord. With this context in mind we could understand the God’s promise of a prophet through whom the Lord himself would address His people: “I will raise up for them a prophet like you from among their kin, and will put my words into his mouth. He shall tell them all that I command him. Whoever does not listen to the words that he speaks in my name, I myself will make him answer for it”. The prophet, in the context of the history of Israel, is the one who communicates the word of God with respect to the actual situation; he is the one who makes known His will. But it is also known that between the message of God and His people, no other barrier exists but that of a hardened heart. Examples of how these walls impede the reception of the word of God and their sad consequences abound in the history of salvation, found in the Bible, and present even in our days. This is the reason why our understanding of the fact that it is God who speaks to us through His messengers and that we should Him is reinforced by what we have heard from the Psalm:  if today you hear his voice, harden not your hearts. This is indicative of that which we have already said a while ago: there is no barrier between God and man other than a hardened heart. A hardened heart is one that has not only refused to do what God wills in one’s life (which is always willed for the good); to have a hardened heart means to refuse to take heed and to accept the word of God. Here we can make two considerations: on one hand, the heart does not accept God’s word because it is hardened; on the other, since it refuses to listen, the more it gets hardened.

The prophecy made to Moses and through Moses in the Old Testament finds its fulfillment in the person of Jesus Christ. In the Gospel we see Him teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum, and we see people being astonished by his teaching. People are taken aback by the richness that flows from his words, and by the authority with which he teaches. The power of his words are made evident by the fact that even unclean spirits do what they are told, when Jesus commands them to go out. Jesus is the one who teaches with authority. His words have life and power. This isn’t the only time in the gospels that we see people listening to him and drinking in his words. He is the cause for Mary’s preference to sit by his feet and listen to Him while at Bethany, in the house of Lazarus (cfr.Lk 10:38-42); we should remember that one of Peter’s most meaningful declarations was this: “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life”(Jn 6:68); in other parts of the gospels, we see the same disciples awed at the fact that Jesus speaks with such power that even inanimate nature listens to him, as was the case of the calming of the storm (cfr. Mk4:35-40 and other parallel accounts).

But Jesus does not only speak the words of God: he utters as someone who is not only sent by God, but he speaks as one having the same authority. When we listen to the words of the Master, when we heed his words, we heed the same order of the Father whose voice resounded over the heights of Tabor: This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased; listen to him” (Mt 17:5). Accepting the words of the Son of God allows us to share in the very life of Jesus. This is the life that all of us share, by virtue of baptism, by the power of that identification with the Son of God, which is a prime effect of this sacrament.

What moral repercussion could this Word have for us? In the first place, this would lead to consider the importance of going back to God again and again: the life of conversion. We have hardened heart that could only be soften by the Spirit, whose action has been likened to the dew fall (as we may hear in the words of the Second Eucharistic Prayer of the revised translation of the Roman Missal), that wets and refreshes the parched earth. Only a heart made of flesh is capable of listening to the Word of God, Jesus Christ.

Another consequence we can get from the admonition of the Apostle Paul to the Corinthians (the Second Reading). In a nutshell, in mentioning the excellence of the consecrated life over the married one, he was pointing towards the fact that the human heart was created to love God totally. Love could only grow deeper when it is always open towards the Other; our Christian vocation, which ultimately consists in loving God above all things and persons, cannot flourish and grow if it does not receive the Word. Our love should directed towards God, but this is not possible if we choose to remain deaf to His Word, obstinate with regards to His law, and hardened with respect to his Love. As a consequence, it would be very difficult to love others as God Himself would love them (as Openign Prayer of the Sunday Mass would say: Lord, help us to love you with all our hearts and to love all men as you love them…), which I think is the best way to love people: not even with the strength of our own love, but with the love of God Himself. The grace to love the Lord our God with an undivided heart: this is the grace that all of us have to ask!!!

May our struggles and efforts this week and in our live be directed to this end. AMEN.

FIRST READING: Dt. 18: 15-20

SECOND READING: 1 Cor 7:32-35

GOSPEL: Mk. 1:21-28