Invitation to Greater Interiority (22nd Sunday Ordinary B)

Jim Wallis’ book, “The Soul of Politics” declares as it begins that “the world isn’t working.” In his introduction, Wallis reminds his reader of Mohandas Gandhi’s warning against the seven social sins: politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice. For Wallis, these social sins are alarmingly the accepted practices in societies now! Hence, the emptiness of all existing institutions. The world isn’t working. He speaks of the American context. But his assertion may not be less true in our own places.

I would like to zero in, as a springboard to our reflection, on Gandhi’s seventh social sin--“Worship without sacrifice” for today’s gospel lends itself to a deeper reflection along this theme. Worship without sacrifice, in Gandhi’s critique of society, could refer to the emptiness of the formalism of worship. Without sacrifice, worship is just a show or even a mockery. It is sacraments without Jesus Christ; rituals without genuine love of God; religion without a soul. The gospel today can be a clear precaution against the tendency of our worship to move towards empty formalism.

In today’s gospel, we see Jesus once again in conflict with the Pharisees. The Pharisees are conscientiously insistent on the utmost necessity of following the rites of washing hands before eating as an expression of fidelity to Jewish tradition on ritual purity. For them, eating without washing hands makes one unclean. But for Jesus, it is not any external impurities that defile a person. What defiles comes from within, from the heart—the inner choices in the realm of conscience.  As He declares: “Hear me, all of you, and understand. Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile… From their hearts, come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice…”(Mk 7:15,21).

The Pharisees are meticulously concerned about external cleanliness; whereas, Jesus exposes to them the inadequacy and hypocrisy of this when there is no accompanying interior cleanliness of the heart. The Pharisees tend to degenerate their religion into a set of elaborate external rituals to be performed religiously. Jesus criticizes them for the lack of interior genuine love of God in all those rituals. Thus, He quotes the words of the prophet Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (v.6).

When the heart is far from God, worship and religious rituals clearly become an empty and ridiculous human gesture incapable of nurturing a loving relationship with God. When the interior disposition is lacking, our liturgies and sacraments can become routines that we go through mechanically, repetitively, and, hence, meaninglessly. These liturgies cease to become real celebrations of the love and mercy of God in our lives. This scenario of an empty religion is what Jesus is most wary about.

Bishop Teodoro Bacani, facing a congregation of more or less 250 priests, once told this story to challenge his audience:

A lady came to confession. The priest asked her when her last confession was. The lady replied, “twenty years ago, Father.” The priest got angry and in a loud scolding voice said, “What?! Twenty years ago?! He continued asking for explanation angrily, “Why are you confessing only now? The lady explained with a trembling voice, “because the last time I went to confession, the priest got angry like you.”

Poor lady.  She’ll need another twenty years to muster her courage to confess once again! If this had ever happened, this could be an illustration of the sacrament of reconciliation without mercy. Jesus would be very furious witnessing this scenario.

This leads me to wonder how many of our liturgical celebrations in the parishes and chapels are real worship after the mind of Jesus. How many baptisms I’ve done became a meaningful acceptance of faith in the Lord? How many confessions really have celebrated the liberating mercy and the loving embrace of God? How many marriage ceremonies have been real celebrations of human love destined to mirror the self-sacrificing love of God? How many anointing have strengthened and consoled the sick because of the healing power of God or have helped the dying to leave with peaceful confidence?

There is really no way of measuring these. Nonetheless, today’s gospel invites us—ministers and faithful alike—to make our liturgical celebrations and rituals meaningful by bringing into them our hearts that passionately long for our loving God. When we celebrate this Eucharist, for instance, let our interior disposition be that of the psalmist who prays: “As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God” (Ps 42: 2).

The gospel today invites us towards greater interiority. We are invited not just to appear pure for everyone to see, but to really be pure inside our hearts for God to see. We are invited to make our worship not just a set of mechanical rituals but a truly meaningful way of encountering God and loving Him.

Let us not allow the dynamism of our Christian faith to degenerate into pharisaic formalism… lest we betray the Lord once more… lest we succumb to the temptation about which Gandhi expressed his warning--an empty religion—one that has no power to move individuals, animate communities, and transform societies.

Chewing the Almonds When Your Teeth Are Aching (21st Sunday Ordinary B)

A tour bus driver drives with a bus full of seniors down a highway, when a little old lady taps him on his shoulder. She offers him a handful of almonds, which he gratefully munches up. After approximately 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of almonds. She repeats this gesture about eight times.

At the ninth time he asks the little old lady why they don't eat the almonds themselves, whereupon she replies that it is not possible because of their old teeth, they are not able to chew them. "Why do you buy them then?" he asks puzzled. Whereupon the old lady answers, "We just love the chocolate around them."

The chocolate around the almonds may stand for the spiritual high and, perhaps, the prestige, or any perks, for that matter, which Christians love about in following Christ. The almonds may represent the hard and difficult core of our Christian faith—the cross and all its implications! Today’s Gospel would have us reflect on our tendency to enjoy only the ‘chocolate’ and to reject the ‘almonds’ of discipleship.

“This saying is hard; who can accept it” (Jn. 6:60)? This was the murmur of many disciples who were listening to Jesus and who found his words difficult to accept. Many of these gave up following Jesus and “returned to their former way of life” (v. 66); after all, they were following Jesus to get what they had been expecting from him—bread and political liberation. But Jesus refused to be the Messiah of their expectations. So when they had enjoyed the chocolate, they threw the almonds away.

The Twelve disciples, however, did not follow suit. When asked if they would want to leave, Peter answered that they had nowhere else to go but to Jesus who had the words of eternal life (v.68). The twelve disciples are the exemplar of a committed discipleship—accepting even the cross of following Jesus. Later on, their own lives as martyrs would become powerful testimonies of their faith in Jesus!

This reality of the two types of disciples in Jesus’ time invites us to examine the quality of our own brand of discipleship today. This allows us to speak of ‘cheap’ discipleship on the one hand and, on the other, of ‘costly’ discipleship-- or for fun, 'chocolate discipleship' and 'almonds discipleship' respectively.

Cheap discipleship means following Jesus to satisfy our personal needs and agenda. This is the kind of discipleship that enjoys only the chocolate but rejects the almonds because they are difficult to chew. It is following the Jesus of our expectations but not the real Jesus who demands conversion and transformation. Disciples of this kind will readily leave Jesus and his values behind when confronted with difficult demands of faith. Or at most, this kind of Christians will be good at compromising the faith with other perceived values of their own interest. In other words, cheap discipleship is one that does not involved self-sacrifice, only self-nurturance. A very good example perhaps are Christians who ride on the crest of ‘spiritual high’ but who never come down to see the real demands of faith in working for social charity and justice.

Costly discipleship, on the other hand, means following Jesus despite the difficult demands of faith. This is chewing the almonds when your teeth are aching. This means a hundred percent commitment to the person of Jesus and the values of the Kingdom he announced. This means not taking the easy way out when things get rough and tough. Like the twelve apostles, the disciples of this kind believe that only Jesus possesses the words of eternal life.

Hence, the Christians who manifest this brand of costly discipleship maintain their fidelity in their married life despite the convenient options of the culture of divorce or culture of ‘kabit’ in society. These Christians find joy and even pride in being chaste in this age that glorify sexual promiscuity or, at the least, sexual permissiveness. They live a simple lifestyle or even a contemporary form of asceticism precisely as a counterculture to a mindless consumerist society of today. They manifest respect for integrity of creation and even fight for it against the onslaught of exploitative development purportedly pushed for economic gains for the sake of the poor. In this country, these followers of ‘costly discipleship’ strive to be honest when the norm is becoming more and more that of corruption.

Our country is in dire need of people who would embrace this ‘costly discipleship’ in order to transform our society according to the values of God’s Kingdom. This is not an easy task. This calls for a lot of self-sacrifice… for a hundred percent commitment to the words of Jesus… for hope when it seems impossible to change things for the better… for the courage to chew the almonds when your teeth are aching.

This calls for a brave and honest answer to Jesus’ question in today’s gospel: “Do you also want to leave?”

Unless God Draws Us (19th Sunday Ordinary B)

On a spiritual retreat, a committed lay campus minister reflected on her relationship with God particularly the aspect of her prayer life. She pointed out that in the early years of her relationship with God she tended to be in control. When she prayed, she did it in her own terms seeking for the results she expected to get, looking for consolation as reward and for deep spiritual insights as evidence of her spiritual growth. However, she realized she was forcing it and such an attitude had been somehow frustrating and tiring. She had to change her way of relating to God and her attitude even in prayer. Once she learned the humility of letting go of the helm, she stopped demanding from God and allowed God to be God. This allowed her to see prayer not in terms of results but in terms of a free encounter with God in God’s term. Now she lets God lead her. In her prayer life, results are irrelevant now; being in prayer is itself the consolation as she allows God to draw her into God’s loving presence.

There is a world of difference between being driven and being drawn. Being driven is an experience of being compelled, pushed, or forced. One is driven by hunger to steal; another is driven by anger to violence; a religious person may be driven by results to pray; many of us may be driven by our need to accomplish and need to succeed that is why we serve.

On the other hand, being drawn is an experience of gentle attraction, an experience of allowing oneself to be enticed and to be led. A person who is drawn does not control, nor demand, but allows. When one is drawn, such person participates in and not directs the experience.

In the gospel reading today (Jn 6:41-51) which is part of the Bread of Life discourse, Jesus displays awareness of these two dynamics. He observes how the Jews are driven by hunger and by curiosity that is why they keep on following him. They are driven by their own expectations and hence fail to see the truth in itself! They see only the bread miraculously multiplied and not the Bread of Life. They see only Jesus, the son of the carpenter, and fail to see Jesus, the Son of God that has come down from heaven. Hence, they end up dissatisfied, still hungry, and murmuring (v. 42).

To this people Jesus explains, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (v. 44). Here lies the secret of our friendship with God. God always does the initiative. We do not find God by ourselves and love him. Rather, He draws us to himself and we allow ourselves to be led. God loves us first and we embrace him as our loving response to his initiative. In our friendship with the Lord, we are not driven; we are drawn.

Discernment then becomes essential in a relationship that is not driven but drawn. For us not to be driven by our own impulses and by external forces that oblige us, we need to be discerning. We need to hear, see, and understand the invitation of God for us. As Jesus asserts in the gospel: “Everyone who has heard the Father and learned from him comes to me” (v. 45).

Discernment is seeing the goodness of God in our life and hence being attracted to Him. The psalm exclaims, “Taste and see how good the Lord is” (Ps 34: 9). The invitation then is to let God draw us to himself by participating in his goodness as we experience and discern it in life.

In life, am I driven or drawn?

When I go through life, do I blindly follow my own impulses and move from one concern to another depending on what is driving me? Am I always on the go beating deadlines I set for myself, driven by my need to succeed and to be affirmed? Do I measure the meaning of my life and work by accomplishments and expected results?

Or do I allow God to lead me where He wants me to go? Am I confident in what I do because, in my discernment, I felt God has drawn me into it? Is my life a grateful response to the goodness of God?

A driven person may have the likelihood of success in this world. More money, more power, more fame. A drawn person may not be able to display this glamour. But the fundamental difference is that the driven person, after all what he has gained, may still end up with a big void that no amount of worldly success can fill up. He may be like the people in Jesus’ time, dissatisfied, still hungry, and murmuring! On the other hand, the person who has allowed himself to be drawn by God is certainly fulfilled, satisfied, blissfully contented in life. After all, every moment for him has been that of tasting and seeing the goodness of God.