24th SUNDAY OF THE YEAR — 2016

Paul’s letter to the Galatians gives us his great teaching on freedom. It is summed up in the words, “Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom”.

Some of us might remember the resonant Latin phrase: “Ubi Spiritus, ibi libertas.”

In Galatians, Paul makes an interesting contrast. He does not oppose freedom with slavery, or imprisonment, or oppression, or captivity; he contrasts it with self-indulgence. And by self-indulgence he does not mean what we usually mean; gluttony, lust or any of the other modern materialisms we hear about with such regularity. For Paul, self-indulgence means two things; lack of love for neighbour, and failure to be guided by the Spirit of God.

For Paul, we cannot love one another, nor can we live at peace with each other, without the freedom from self-centredness, from self-indulgence, which only God’s Spirit can bring about in us. He uses the most common example of this in our lives; our extreme willingness to find fault with others, to snap at people for the faults they have that annoy us. We recognise how intolerant we can be of others’ weaknesses, and especially of their criticisms. We are outraged that someone should dare to tell us we are wrong about something, especially when that person has faults of his own. And how often do we lash out in kind; we counter someone else’s criticisms by criticizing them, hoping to neutralise their words by revealing to them that, since they are no better than we are, they have no business criticising us. In this way, marriages, families, cities and countries are torn apart or reduced to tattered shreds.

This is what Paul refers to as self-indulgence. It is one of the worst characteristics of human beings. It is one about which we moralise, one which we try to rectify by human means, through endless counseling, group discussions and platitudes.

But there is no real human solution to it. We have no human ways to correct each others’ sins; in fact, we are not going to correct people’s sins at all. Each one of us can help only ourselves, in this regard, with the help of God. But, like God, and with his help, we can learn to live with the sins and weaknesses of others, and to find ways of building them up. We need not to indulge our resentfulness and anger towards others, but to be sources of healing to them. This we will only ever be if we are enfolded in the liberating power of God’s Spirit. Only when we are possessed of the freedom of God’s Spirit will we be truly free, free especially from the self-indulgence of a mean human spirit.

“Ubi Spiritus, ibi libertas.” It was in this Spirit that Jesus died for our sins with the words, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do” on his lips. Paul emphasises this by reminding us that “Christ Jesus died for us while we were still sinners,” in other words, before we had even shown sorrow for our sins. It is also true of the saints; they lived for God, not themselves, and in the same freedom of the Spirit. Through it, they were able to love their neighbour as themselves, no matter what their neighbour’s sins. May we, following the exhortation of Paul, find the source of our strength in God, that we too might enjoy that same freedom in his spirit, and love our neighbour as ourselves. Amen.

Fr Phillip

23rd SUNDAY OF THE YEAR — 2016

In this world there are two types of speaker. There are those who talk a lot, but seem to say very little for all their words. There are those, too, who say very little, but whose every word seems filled with meaning. Jesus was very much of the second type, and one has sometimes to listen very carefully to him to grasp the importance of what he is saying. The Gospel of the deaf man is very much about listening. And it requires concentrated listening for its message to be revealed. Let us listen carefully to just one sentence: “Jesus said to the man, ‘Effata!’ that is, ‘Be opened!’ and his ears were opened.”

Jesus acts here as a prophet, one who speaks the words of God to God’s people. And God is a God of the Word, which means that speech and hearing are the most important part of the way in which He reveals himself to us. “Hear the Word of the Lord!” is one of the most frequent sayings of the Old Testament prophets. The deaf man is more than just someone who cannot hear; he is, in Biblical terms, one who is cut off from hearing the Word of God. Jesus’ action is a sign for us. The word of the Lord is not just sound, but “something alive and active” It actually carries out what it says. The deaf man hears it while he is still deaf. Jesus’ words cut through his deafness, making him hear, and for the first time, the world around him becomes audible.

From the story there is also little doubt that the deaf man wanted to hear. Though he was deaf, how he must sometimes have struggled to hear what went on around him. It was because he listened in his deafness that he was able to hear the words of Jesus when they were addressed to him; “Be opened!” The deaf man in today’s Gospel is not simply a deaf man; he is every member of the human race. We are all deaf to the world without the Word of God. We cannot really know him, or his purpose for us and his creation, until we have heard him explaining it to us.

We all need to be hearers of the Word. And in order for us to hear the Word of the Lord, it is necessary for us to listen out for it. This means seeking the truth with all our hearts, and then accepting it and obeying it when we find it. For the voice of the opens our ears to the world, so that for the first time we are able to hear its sounds with meaning; the meaning he has given it. And that sound, heard through ears opened to it by God, is not a sound to put us at ease. Before the Lord opens our ears, the world has to reach out to us, to break into our self-centredness. Now, we have to reach out to the world and give of ourselves to it. No longer trapped in our own silence, we have to respond to the sounds to which God exposes us by healing our spiritual deafness. We must listen to and respond to the cries of the desperate around us. There is work for us in this world. We could say that, with our ears opened by the voice of the Lord, God is at last speaking to us through the cries of the world, for he has enabled us to hear them as he hears them.

Listen to the world; what you will hear is the cries of the spiritually deaf; those who cannot hear his Word. And they are crying out for love. The world today is more full of deaf people than it has ever been, people who have not heard the Word of God, and has become a world of people who take rather than give. But God, who opens our ears to the cries of his people, wants to change this. He wills us to go out, filled with his inexhaustible love, and to bring that love to others. And by that same love, he wants to use us to open the ears of others, that they too might hear his word, and his world, and be filled with his love, and in turn go out and fill others with his love.

You can be the bearer of that love; you can be the one through whom he says “Effata!” to others, as he has said it to us all. “Lord, open our ears, that our hearts may proclaim your love”. May it be so. Amen.

Fr Phillip

22nd SUNDAY OF YEAR 2016

Did you read about one of the more recent “churches” to register itself in the USA? It made an appearance in 2002, and goes under the name “The Sons of Jedi.” Imagine; not a children’s game, or even a joke, but a real-life religion based on a Hollywood science-fiction series; adult human beings dressing up in exotic uniforms and saying “The Force be with you” to each other, together with whatever else it is they do.

On the one side, we can laugh at the idiocies to which a society without God will descend. On the other hand, crazy though it may seem, we could see this new “religion” as a desperate cry for help; people without God, looking for God, and in their desperation, trying out any trace of what promises to be some power greater than human beings, even the fantasies of a commercial movie.

In the late 1960s, Andrew Greeley, in his book the Persistence of Religion, described how occult religions were mushrooming on American university campuses where Christianity had been rejected. Why? He came to the conclusion that there is in man a deep-seated need to worship God, and that in the absence of Christianity, these strange cults were the nearest the students could come to communicating with spiritual powers greater than themselves.

A hundred years before, the great Cardinal Newman described man without God as “a great river cramped into a narrow channel”. Only God, he said, can “elicit the ten thousand senses of which a human being is capable”. Fifteen hundred years before either Greeley or Newman, St. Augustine said simply, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in You, O God.”

Never in our history has there been an era like ours, when man has tried on such a grand scale to do without God. Never has there been such an era of darkness, death, destruction, squalor and hopelessness. And never before has man sought God in such a variety of twisted and monstrous forms, from the ugly cults of California to the ideologies of the east which have laid waste to whole nations and lands.

Man seeks and longs for God with all his heart. Man without God, a world without God, is a dry, empty husk. What the Psalmist recognises of himself is true of the whole modern world. "O God, you are my God, for you I long," he says. "For you my soul is thirsting."

This is not a general feeling that things are all right without God, but better with him. Without God there is a terrible emptiness, one which threatens life itself, for unquenched thirst leads to death. In even stronger terms, the psalmist restates the sense of desperate emptiness which is the lot of one who is far from God: "My body pines for you, like a dry, weary land without water." When we pine for something, or someone, we feel so empty at the lack that we cannot eat, sleep, think or talk about anything else. Our whole being is consumed when we pine. We endure an emotional emptiness which is so intense it becomes physical, and which leaves us in a state of weariness, of exhaustion.

Underneath all the brashness, sneering and apparent self-confidence of the godless, this is the real state of his heart, a state which can be brutally exposed when his support system is blown away. Man longs with all his heart for the fulfillment which only communion with God can give, whether he knows it or not. How blessed are we who to whom God has revealed himself. How blessed are we who can know him and love him in the person of Jesus Christ. God has asked us to be a light in the darkness, to spread his work through our own words, work and example. He has made us, his Church, his people, to be a light in the darkness. Let us take up this task today, as he has called us. Through us may he provide light in the darkness, fulfillment in place of emptiness and love in place of longing.

Fr Phillip

ASSUMPTION OF OUR LADY 2016

The Scriptures have much to tell of the Mother of Jesus, and indeed, much more to tell us when we study her very few words to us and the events surrounding her life.

The angel tells her, “Hail, full of grace”. This literally means “You who are already filled with grace,” for the Greek perfect tense in which it is expressed implies a present situation arising from something that has happened in the past. If Mary is “filled with grace,” there is no room for any sin within her. Mary’s flesh is already sinless when Jesus is conceived, so that he might truly be “One like us in all things but sin.”

From this follows the teaching that Mary never bore another child but Jesus. The Jewish leaders of Jesus’ time claimed membership of God’s holy chosen people by virtue of their genetic descent. John the Baptist tells them that this means nothing, that “God can raise up sons of Abraham from these very stones.” Our only claim to a relationship with Jesus is through baptism, by which we are reborn as adopted sons and daughters of God.

Mary’s visitation to Elizabeth her cousin, six months pregnant with John the Baptist, has a profound message to us as well. When Mary arrives and greets Elizabeth, Elizabeth says, “The moment I heard your voice, the child in my womb leapt for joy. How blessed am I to receive a visit from the mother of my Saviour!” The unborn John the Baptist recognises the presence of the barely conceived Saviour, Jesus. This should certainly make clear to us the preciousness of human life, and the evil of abortion.

Finally, there are Mary’s words to the angel and at the wedding at Cana. “I am the handmaid of the Lord; let what you have said be done to me.” An engaged fourteen-year-old girl accepting a pregnancy by no human agency; who would believe her? And facing a penalty of death by stoning? What faith to accept God’s call in the face of such a situation! Yet she did, and placed her faith, her life and her future completely in God’s hands.

The other, at the wedding at Cana, when Jesus turns water into wine, applies these words to our own lives. What an embarrassing situation at a Jewish wedding; to run out of wine! Mary knows that Jesus will act despite his reluctance, and tells the steward, “Do whatever he tells you!” — “…whatever he tells you!” A strong command, but one which saves the honour of the groom and allows the guests to continue to rejoice.

How often do we complain that God doesn’t help us, that he seems to leave us high and dry? But do we do whatever he tells us? Or only something of it, just in case God messes up and we have to take things into our own hands? Mary placed her all in God’s hands, and as a result her words “All generations shall call me blessed!” have become true in a way she could never have imagined. Like Mary, doing whatever God tells us might lead us to things we might never have imagined. And like Mary, we, too, will be blessed in ways beyond our imagination if only we would do “whatever he tells us.”

Fr. Phillip

REFLECTION FOR THE SIXTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Have you ever heard someone say “I’ll follow, God, but when I am ready to do so,” or words to that effect? Plainly put, if we say this, we are saying that we have important things to do, and God will just have to wait until our business is sorted out. In the language of modern youngsters, it assumes the form “God is there for us.” Both of these ways of speaking are contrary to the way God works. When God calls, he moves on past us, and if we are not quick to follow him, we may never be given another chance. We follow God when He calls us, not the other way round. And it is we who are “there” for him, not the reverse. In the words of Elijah the prophet, “O rest in the Lord; wait patiently for him.” It is we who wait for his call, not he who waits for our response.

Scripture is filled with examples of people who have responded immediately and unconditionally to his call, from the boy Samuel’s words, “Speak, Lord, your servant is listening” to the response of the apostles when Jesus says, “Follow me.” We are told that “at once they left everything and followed him.”

In today’s First Reading we are told of the consequences of Abraham’s response to God’s call. In the twelfth chapter of Genesis, when God first calls Abraham, the whole story is framed with these words: “God said to Abraham, ‘Go!’…and Abraham went.” His response is an immediate and unqualified “Yes!” Similarly, when the angel Gabriel tells Mary that she is to bear Jesus, the Son of God, Mary’s answer is “I am the handmaid of the Lord. Let it be done to me according to your word.” Another unqualified “Yes!”

In the case of both Abraham and Mary, there are enormous difficulties and dangers. Each of them has to take a bold step into the unknown, a leap of faith, as it were. Both have questions. Neither can see how it is to happen, Abraham to father a child by a ninety-year-old wife, Mary to bear a son without a human father. But both accept God’s call in faith, for, as Gabriel says to Mary, “nothing is impossible to God.” To both, God makes promises of the blessings that will ensue. Neither accepts because of the blessings promised, but because of their implicit trust in the God who calls them.

What is God calling us to do? It may be something big; it may be something very small. But to each of us, whether the task is great or small, he still says “Follow me.” Do we have the courage or faith to follow him? Are we prepared to lay aside everything to carry out the task to which he has called us? Do we allow ourselves to be daunted by the seeming impossibility of the task, or the cost to ourselves which may be involved? We must always remember a few important things. First, that whatever God asks us to do, is the best thing that can possibly happen to us. Second, that it is impossible for us to give more to God than he gives to us. Third, that all that we have which is good, is given to us by God in order to use in our service of him. And finally, and most importantly, the reassurance that the angel gives to Mary at the Annunciation, that “nothing is impossible to God” is as true for us as it was for her. If we really have faith in God and respond freely, generously and promptly to his call, then whatever he asks us to do, no matter how daunting it may seem, must succeed.

Fr Phillip.

REFLECTION FOR THE FIFTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Much of Jesus’ teaching is in the form of parables, stories with a message. He did this for one simple reason; it was a way of teaching a sometimes difficult or complex message in a way that is easily understandable and simple. Try summarising the message of any of his parables in one sentence and you will soon see quite how difficult it is.

We often miss the point of Jesus’ parables, because we try simply to extract a moral message from them, instead of seeing the full picture of what Jesus is teaching us. For example, in the parable of the workers in the vineyard, where those who have worked only one hour are paid the same wage as those who have worked a full day, is often interpreted as meaning no more than “we must not grumble or be envious.” If we extract no more than a superficial human message from Jesus’ parables, then we missed the point completely. In understanding Jesus’ parables, we must always remember that each parable has a double message. It tells us something about God, and in doing this, it also tells us something about ourselves. We need to recognise the God-figure and the “us”-figure in every parable.

In today’s Gospel, for example, there is far more to the story than “be kind to your neighbour” or “don’t be a hypocrite.” We too often look no further than the behaviour of the Samaritan as compared with that of the Priest and the Levite. The first thing to recognise is that, in the actions of the Samaritan, we see God. A Samaritan and a Jew were deadly enemies, yet in the story it is the Samaritan who shows compassion towards the injured, even dying, Jew. In real life, we are sinners, and sin place us in a state of enmity towards God. Sin has wounded us, and because of it we are in danger of losing our eternal life. God is the one who, out of compassion for us, saves us from eternal death by sending his Son to die in our place and rise from the dead to bring us to eternal life, in the words of Paul, while we were yet his enemies.”

What does this parable tell us about ourselves? As we have already seen, that we are doomed to eternal death unless God himself comes to our aid. We, wounded and dying spiritually because of sin, can do nothing to save ourselves. Salvation can come from God alone.

Secondly, and finally, it tells us that God’s compassion and mercy is given to us, not for ourselves, but so that we may be his ministers to all who need it. So often, those who need it most are those whom, under everyday circumstances, we might avoid. But God’s love and mercy is for all, not only those whom we find congenial. In the introduction to the parable the Scribe asks Jesus, “Who is my neighbour?” Jesus turns the question on its head: “Whose neighbour are YOU?” The parable answers that question by showing that anyone who is in need of God’s compassion and mercy is our neighbour. This parable, then speaks of God’s mercy and compassion towards each one of us, so that we might in turn be his agents of that mercy and compassion in his work to “lead all souls to heaven, especially those who are in most need of thy mercy.”

Fr Phillip.

REFLECTION FOR THE FOURTEENTH SUNDAY OF ORDINARY TIME

Paul’s letter to the Galatians was written during a momentous era in the story of the Christian Church. Jesus had risen from the dead, and had ascended to his Father; the Holy Spirit had descended. The Church, under the leadership of the Apostles, appointed by Jesus, had been founded, and was preaching the Good News of Jesus Christ: He is risen, he is Lord, he has ascended, he will come again, repent and believe in the Good News. Such was the force and conviction of the Apostles’ preaching, under the power of the Holy Spirit, that converts could be numbered in thousands at a time.

Yet Christianity had still one great step to take. Up until now, it had been a small but growing branch of Judaism, consisting largely of Jews who had become convinced that Jesus is the Messiah; Jews who nevertheless kept the Old Covenant, the Jewish Law, and who believed that one had first to be a Jew in order to become a follower of Jesus Christ. This was the position of Peter and the Apostles in the beginning. Jesus’ great commission, “Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News…” barely begun to be preached to the Gentiles in any significant numbers.

It was at this point that God chose the most single-minded, narrow of Pharisees to become his Apostle to the Gentiles, the man who believed that the Jewish Law could make him perfect, to proclaim that, since salvation in Jesus Christ is sufficient, it has swallowed up the Jewish Law, which no longer applied.

It was inevitable that Paul’s teaching should come into conflict with Peter’s. In any other human situation, in the face of such a dispute, the new religion could have been torn apart. In this case, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, the initial conflict transformed Christianity into what it has become today; a world-wide, universal faith embracing all the peoples, races and cultures of the earth. The outcome of the dispute was the very first Church council, the Council of Jerusalem. The Apostles, meeting together much as their successors did in Rome in the 1960’s, considered the issue of Gentile Christians which confronted the Church, and, in union with Peter as head, and under the guidance of the Holy Spirit, came to a conclusion regarding the Gentiles. With a few conditions, Paul’s position was vindicated, and Christianity was opened to all of us in the Church today.

Paul’s conviction was grounded in the cross of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ death as a blasphemer, a cursed death to a Jew, was to Paul the Pharisee a terrible stumbling block. But to the convert Paul, it was the only possible way to salvation for us. Look at his strong language: “The only thing I can boast about is the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom the world is crucified to me, and I to the world.” Jesus’ cross colours everything, redeems everything, gives everything meaning. The cross, for Paul, is everything; without it we are nothing. The world crucified Jesus, and through the crucifixion was saved; Paul wants to conform himself to Jesus Christ in every respect, especially in his suffering and death.

The cross of Jesus Christ unites us, too. We are all sinners, standing before God in equal need of redemption. Paul recognised this as the most important fact in human history. It is salvation through the death and Resurrection of Jesus and not the Law, which brings us together as one, which gives meaning to our existence. Peter agreed, and so have all the Church’s councils ever since. Without Paul we might not even be Christian, for we are the Gentiles to whom he preached faith in Jesus Christ. It is our task to believe implicitly in the faith he taught us, to live it, and to hand it down faithfully to the next generation. May God bless and strengthen us in this task, and may he make each one of us faithful witnesses to his Word and work in the world.

Fr Phillip.