Between Hospice & Home

5th Sunday in Easter (B)

Readings: Acts 9: 26-31; Psalm 21 (22): 26-28, 30-32; 1 John 3: 18-24; John 15: 1-8

Picture: By John Fornander on Unsplash

My dear friends, what do people consider when choosing a home? Recently, it was reported that someone bought a good class bungalow, not far from here, for a cool S$84 million. Assuming the buyer intends to live in that house, what made her choose it? I’ve never bought a home myself, so please forgive me for engaging in some guesswork. I imagine that, among various other factors, these three would have been considered. First is, obviously, cost. Although, given how rich the buyer is, perhaps this wasn’t really a factor at all. The second is creature comforts. According to the news, along with 6 bedrooms, a pool, living, dining and entertainment spaces, the bungalow has enough room to park 8-10 cars. The third factor is class. Which refers not just to the bungalow itself, but also to its prospective residents. Their ability to buy and live in such a place marks them as belonging to an elite class. So class, comfort and cost. 3 Cs for choosing a home, a place in which to rest our bodies. But it’s not just our bodies that need a home, right? Don’t our hearts and our spirits do too? What factors do we consider when choosing a home for them? This, I believe, is the question our scriptures invite us to ponder today.

But first, perhaps it’s helpful for us to cast our minds back to our readings for last Sunday. Those of us who were here at the noon Mass, may recall how we were encouraged to align ourselves to Jesus, like building stones aligned to a keystone. To follow him, like sheep following a shepherd. To cling ever more tightly to him, like preschool children holding on to a walking rope. Today, the Lord calls us to an even closer, even more intimate relationship with him. More than just clinging to him, Jesus invites us to live and to make our home in him. Just as branches make their home in the vine. To let him be the place where our hearts and spirits find true rest and rejuvenation. In a way, like buying a good class bungalow, to be able to do this is also a mark of belonging. Belonging not to an exclusive class, but to the closely-knit Body of the Crucified and Risen Christ. Chosen and sent by God to bring new life to all the world. Closeness to Christ, and in Christ. This is the first factor, in the choice of a spiritual home.

Next, along with greater closeness, making one’s home in Christ also brings with it a certain kind of comfort. Though not the creature comforts provided by a bungalow. The first reading ends by telling us that the churches throughout Judaea, Galilee, and Samaria were… left in peace… living in the fear of the Lord, and filled with the consolation of the Holy Spirit. In another translation (RSV) the word comfort is used in place of consolation. The comfort of the Holy Spirit. This includes not just peaceful external relations with others, but also the deep interior calm described in the second reading. The calm enjoyed by those who live in God. Those who keep God’s commandments. Those who believe in Jesus, and who love others not just in words, but also in deeds. Those who become children of the truth, able to quieten their consciences, to rest their hearts, in God.

All of which already tells us that there is a cost to making one’s home in God. The cost of faith and obedience. Also, when we trust and obey the Lord, we may find ourselves led to make choices that disadvantage us in the eyes of the world. We may even have to suffer rejection and persecution. Perhaps not as obvious or bloody as the sufferings of Saul and the early Christians. But persecution none the less. Still, the cost of remaining faithful and obedient, even in the face of persecution, is not something we bear on our own. Rather, if we are able to trust and obey the Lord, it is only through the power that the Lord himself bestows upon us. Just as the vine bestows life on its branches. Isn’t this what Jesus means when he tells his disciples that they are pruned already, by the word he has imparted to them? The same living Word that is imparted also to us, especially when we gather for the Eucharist.

For some reason, I’m reminded of a visit I once paid, many years ago, to a friend’s terminally ill mother. She was living in a hospice, and terribly frail. Skin on bones, and bedridden. Yet her face seemed somehow radiant. And her words consoled me immensely. I don’t remember now exactly what she said. But with a serene smile she somehow expressed her readiness to go to God, her eagerness to go home. Closeness, comfort and cost. I believe these are the gifts she received, at the threshold between this life and the next, and which she also shared with me, in our brief but fruitful encounter.

Closeness, comfort and cost. 3 Cs for making our home, not in a good class bungalow, but in the Crucified and Risen Lord. Sisters and brothers, how might he be offering us these same precious gifts this Easter?

Clinging To The Rope

4th Sunday in Easter (B)

(Good Shepherd or Vocation Sunday)

Readings: Acts 4: 8-12; Psalm 117 (118): 1, 8-9, 21-23, 26, 28-29; 1 John 3: 1-2; John 10: 11-18

Picture: By Hieu Pham on Unsplash

My dear friends, have you ever seen a children’s walking rope? It’s often used by preschool teachers, and has three key features. The rope usually has handles attached to it, which kids can hold on to, allowing the teacher to gather and lead them to where they need to go. Gathering and leading. That’s what the rope is for. That’s its first feature. Second, the rope is used at transitional or in-between spaces and times, such as when the kids are moving outside the classroom, where it’s less safe, and they require more guidance and care. Third, for the rope to work, the children must keep holding on to it, and resist the temptation to wander off on their own.

So gathering and leading… transitional or in-between spaces and times… and the need to keep holding on. These three features also characterise each of the two images used in our scriptures today. In the first reading, Peter describes the Crucified and Risen Jesus as the stone rejected by… the builders, but which has become the keystone. What is a keystone used for, if not to gather other stones to itself, so that they can all be led to complete the architect’s project? And where and when is a keystone most important, if not at the site and stage of construction, a transitional or in-between space and time? Also, a cornerstone is beneficial only to those stones that hold on or align themselves to it.

In the gospel, Jesus calls himself the Good Shepherd, who lays down his life for his sheep. By his Coming, his Dying, and his Rising, the Lord gathers us, his scattered sheep, into one flock. Leading us across the transitional space and time of this passing world, in between his First Coming and his Second. Ushering us ever more fully into God’s Kingdom. And in order to benefit from the Lord’s efforts, we need to keep holding on to him. We need to listen to his voice, to trust and take refuge in him. Which is not always easy to do, even for regular church-goers like us. For don’t we often encounter situations that captivate or burden us so much, that our attention is diverted away from the Lord? Like how the rich man, in Luke’s gospel, was so captivated by luxury, that he failed to notice the poor Lazarus at his door (Lk 16:19-21). Or how Martha  was so burdened by her chores, that she failed to keep her focus on Jesus (Lk 10:40). Similarly, we forget to listen to him, loosen our grip on him, even lose interest in him. And our hearts start to feel like scattered sheep. Broken into different pieces. Each one wandering off on its own. Getting lost in the darkness. Adversely affecting not just our spiritual wellbeing, but sometimes even our mental health as well.

Isn’t this why we need to heed St John’s advice in the second reading? Think of the love that the Father has lavished on us, by letting us be called God’s children… In other words, keep doing every day, what we are doing now, in this beautiful season of Easter. Keep pondering how, through the courageous yet humble sacrifice of Christ, and in the power of the Spirit, God the Father is ushering us into the joy of God’s Kingdom. For by regularly dwelling upon these mysteries, we allow the Lord to gather the different parts of our broken hearts, and to align them to him. So that he becomes the Unifying Principle of our existence. Isn’t this what it means to live a vocation? In whichever state of life we find ourselves – whether student or working or retired, single or married, separated or divorced or widowed, ordained or consecrated – to seek to be aligned to God’s will for us, and to keep moving in the direction in which God wishes us to go. Such that every experience we may have, every situation we may encounter, becomes a handle for us to cling ever more tightly to the One who died, and was raised to life for us.

Also, perhaps it’s important for us to recognise that, in this hyper-modern society of ours, there is at least one thing that makes it all the more challenging for us to remain focused on the Lord. Something that many of us have with us right now, sleeping snugly in our pockets or purses, or even buzzing busily in our hands. Something the use of which, researchers say, is rewiring our brains. Making it ever more difficult for us to focus our attention on any one thing in a truly sustained way. How are we to focus our hearts on the Lord, when our attention is continually fragmented by the notifications coming from our smartphones? Perhaps we need to cultivate habits that involve setting aside our attention-grabbing devices from time to time. So as to give our overloaded minds a much-needed break. Allowing us to regain the ability to recognise and resist the pull of darkness, so as to focus our attention on the One True Light.

Sisters and brothers, like preschoolers holding on to a walking rope, what must we do to cling ever more tightly to the Good Shepherd, as he leads us all into the justice and peace of God’s kingdom today?

The Power of Recognition

3rd Sunday in Easter (B)

Readings: Acts 3: 13-15, 17-19; Psalm 4: 2, 4, 7, 9; 1 John 2: 1-5; Luke 24: 35-48

Picture: By juana la loca on Flickr

My dear friends, do you ever worry about being scammed? It’s natural to be worried, since it has been announced that, in 2023, there were a record-breaking 46,563 scams reported. Almost forty seven percent more than in 2022! So what can we do? Perhaps it helps to begin by stating the obvious: Scams are the result of a failure of recognition. Victims mistake a lie for the truth, and surrender their valuables in exchange for false promises. How then might we strengthen our power of recognition, improve our ability to distinguish the authentic from the fake, the truth from the lie? This is also the question that our scriptures help us to ponder today.

In the first reading, after healing a lame beggar, by invoking the name of Jesus, Peter addresses a crowd of astounded onlookers. And isn’t it striking how he speaks to them as if they have been scammed? He begins by reminding them who they are, and what they’ve done. They are descendants of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. And yet, they’ve handed over, disowned, and killed Jesus, the faithful servant of the God of their ancestors. They have surrendered the Holy One, the Just One, the One of infinite spiritual value, in exchange for a lie. And they’ve done all this in ignorance, out of a failure of recognition. So Peter helps them uncover the lie, and repent from their sin, to recognise and turn to the God of truth.

What Peter does for non-believers in the first reading, we find John doing for disciples in the second. Like Peter, John begins by reminding his readers who they are. In Christ, they are already children of God. But they still need help to distinguish truth from lies. To remember that Christ’s disciples are recognised not by what they say, but by how they live. For we Christians know God only by keeping his commandments. It’s through obedience that God’s love comes to perfection in us. Otherwise, we are living a lie, refusing to admit the truth.

And if Peter and John are able to help others recognise and reject lies, isn’t it only because they’ve both been taught to recognise and follow the One who is Truth itself? In the gospel, when the Crucified and Risen Christ suddenly appears among his disciples, they fail to recognise him at first. Despite his gentle greeting of peace, they still mistake him for a ghost, and are plunged into a state of alarm and fright. An understandable reaction, considering all that they have endured since Holy Thursday. It’s only when the Lord patiently shows them the wounds on his hands and feet, that their alarm turns to joy. Allowing him to open their minds to understand the scriptures. To accept that, in the trauma of the Cross, lies the sure path to peace and fullness of life.

Isn’t this the gift we are offered anew every Easter? The experience of how the wounds of love are our reliable touchstone for recognising Truth. And isn’t this gift more precious than ever today? When the prevalence of scams has become a sign of our times. An indication of our dire need to strengthen our power of recognition. To keep improving our ability to distinguish truth from lies. So that we might resist the temptation to surrender our valuables, in exchange for empty promises. Valuables, such as deep authentic peace of heart, or safe life-giving interactions at home and at work, out on the streets and here in church, or the ability to show tender care and concern for those in greater need, including our ailing planet… And empty promises, like luxury and material success, comfort and a carefree existence, power and control over others, or popularity and worldly acclaim…

As mentioned at the start, during his Passion, Jesus told Pontius Pilate: For this I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice (Jn 18:37). Sisters and brothers, could it be that there are far more dangerous scams than those that put our money at risk? What can we do to allow the Risen Lord to strengthen our power of recognition, so that we might follow, ever more closely, his voice and no other, today and every day?

Who We Are, Where We Come From...

2nd Sunday in Easter

(Divine Mercy Sunday)

Readings: Acts 4: 32-35; Psalm 117 (118) :2-4, 15-18, 22-24; 1 John 5: 1-6; John 20: 19-31

Picture: By Irene Jiang on Unsplash

Everywhere we go, people want to know,

who we are, where we come from. So we tell them…

My dear friends, do these words sound familiar? Some of us may remember singing them in the military, as part of a marching song. The singing isn’t just to tell people who we are, and where we came from. Particularly during a long energy-sapping route march, the singing also helps to boost morale. It spurs the singers to press on. In the process, their identity is strengthened. And, by their endurance, they are able not just to tell others who they are, but to show them. Through both singing and marching, a corporate identity is imparted, moulded and shown. We find something similar in our scriptures today.

In the gospel, when the Crucified and Risen Jesus appears to his frightened disciples, in addition to sharing greetings of peace, the Lord does three things to show them who he is. First, we’re told that he came and stood among them. Then, he showed them his hands and his side. And, third, he breathed on them the power to forgive and retain sins. These three actions – coming, showing and breathing – mirror the water, the blood, and the Spirit. The three signs that, the second reading says, bear witness to the Lord’s identity as Son of God. The water of baptism, in which Jesus was immersed, to express his solidarity with our sinful humanity; the blood of sacrifice he shed to free us from slavery; and the Spirit of power, by which he gathers us into one Body.

And more than just proving to his disciples who he is, Jesus is also imparting and moulding their identity. From now on, they too will be known by the water of solidarity, the blood of sacrifice, and the Spirit of power. These are the signs by which we Christians show who we are, and where we come from. Proving that, in Christ, we have been begotten by God, adopted as God’s children. And that we’ve already overcome the world, with its anxious craving for riches and honours, and its desperate need to keep comparing and competing with others. Isn’t this why the early Christians in the first reading are able to treat their own property no longer as possessions to be jealously hoarded, but as gifts to be generously shared, especially with those who might be in need? And why, elsewhere in the Acts of the Apostles, they show others who they are, by reaching beyond their community, to preach the Word, and heal the sick (Ac 3:1ff)?

Even so, while it may be true that we have already overcome the world, isn’t it also true that we have not yet completed our march through this earthly life? Isn’t this why we need this beautiful season of Easter? When, by joyously uniting to sing Alleluia, and to reach out to those in need, we allow the God of everlasting mercy to continue moulding our corporate identity as Christians, for the life of our troubled world.

Sisters and brothers, could it be that everywhere we go, people need to know, that who we are, and where we come from flow directly from the tender mercies of God? What can we do to deepen this God-given identity of ours this Easter?

Were You There...?

Easter Sunday

Readings: Acts 10: 34, 37-43; Psalm 117 (118): 1-2, 16-17, 22-23; Colossians 3: 1-4; Colossians 3:1-4

Picture: By Stephen Mease on Unsplash

My dear friends, were any of you there to watch Taylor Swift perform at Marina Bay? I wasn’t. But I wonder what it would have been like if I was, and what steps I’d have to take to make the most of the experience. First, I imagine I’d have to carefully keep in mind who the star is. Whom everyone had come to see. So as not to be distracted by other things. Also, I’d have to try to be as present as possible, to soak in all the action. And, finally, I’d probably share the experience with others in some way… To be mindful of the star, to be present to the action, and to share with others. We find these same three steps in our scriptures today.

In the first reading, the word witness appears no less than four times. We are those witnesses, Peter says. And in his witnessing to Cornelius and his household, Peter takes three steps. First, he tells us exactly who the star is. Not Peter himself, but Jesus, who was anointed by God, and through whom God was at work, when he went about doing good. Jesus, who was killed by the wicked, but raised… to life by God. As the psalm reminds us: this day was made by the Lord. Not by us. This is why we rejoice and are glad. Jesus is the star. Not us. And what a humbling yet blessed relief it is to remember this! Especially when, despite our best efforts, we fail to dispel the darkness that so often threatens to engulf us.

Second, although his focus is on what God has done in Jesus, Peter also talks about what he and his companions have been through. How they have been present to the action, and even changed by it. We find an example of this in the gospel, where Mary, Peter and the beloved disciple are gradually drawn out of the darkness of unbelief, and into the light of faith. Gently led to understand… that he must rise from the dead. And we too can lay claim to this illuminating and liberating power. By allowing ourselves to be present to the action. If not in body, then at least in spirit. As when we return in prayer to those places in our hearts that may remain clouded by the darkness of unbelief.

Isn’t this the good news Peter has been ordered… to proclaim? The experience he is sharing with Cornelius, and that we, in our turn, are called to share with others? Not just in words, but also by our example. As when we keep looking for the things that are in heaven, while remaining engaged with the things on the earth. And isn’t it true that we cannot take this third step–of sharing with others–without also taking the earlier two steps, of being mindful of the star, and present to the action. Which may remind us of that haunting hymn we often sing on Good Friday, stopping at the question, Were you there when they laid him in the tomb?… But there’s one more verse, which we usually don’t sing… Were you there when the stone was rolled away? Were you there…? If not in body, then at least in spirit… Sometimes it causes me to tremble… and even to be changed… Were you there…?

Sisters and brothers, Taylor Swift’s fans often go to great lengths to be there at her concerts. What shall we do to be wherever the Lord is waiting to usher us into newness of life?