Door of God's Mercy (Divine Mercy Sunday)

In 2016, the whole of Catholic Church celebrated the Extraordinary Jubilee of Mercy officially pronounced by Pope Francis by way of his letter Misericordiae Vultus (The Face of Mercy). That year all the faithful were exhorted to contemplate the mystery of God’s mercy and were all invited to experience the mercy of God and dared to become merciful just as the Father is merciful (Lk 6:36).

One memorable feature of the Year of Mercy was the making of pilgrimages which included entering through the Holy Door of Mercy.  Entering through the door of mercy signified for many their repentant resolve to be right back in the merciful embrace of our Father like the prodigal son who mustered his courage, after wandering away in sin, to go back to his loving father to be lovingly embraced by him. 

The celebration of the Divine Mercy Sunday today reminds us again of God’s invitation for us to enter through the door of his mercy as we heed the message of St. Faustina Kowalska who relayed God’s revelation for us: “He who refuses to pass through the door of My mercy must pass through the door of My justice.” Between God’s mercy and His justice, let us then choose to receive the unmerited gift of God’s infinite mercy thereby redeeming us from our sins instead of facing God’s justice which we greatly deserved.    

                                                              How do we choose God’s mercy that we may be spared of His justice?

Entrusting our misery to the heart of Jesus. Mercy comes from the Latin word “misericordia.” This is a combination of two words: The Latin “miseriae” meaning misery and the Latin “cor” or “cordis” meaning heart. In this we have a glimpse of the nature of God’s mercy—it is His heart extending into our human misery to redeem it.

When we beg for God’s mercy, we are lifting up to his loving heart all our suffering brought about by our sins. We beg because we do not deserve His attention. Our misery is our own undoing. We deserve to suffer as consequence of our sins. Yet God, a loving Father “rich in mercy” (Eph 2:4), cannot stand to leave us alone in our misery. So, He sent his Son Jesus Christ who took upon himself all our guilt and offer himself as a sacrifice for us all. Jesus is the face of the Father’s mercy.  When we contemplate the sacred heart of Jesus, we see the loving heart of God drawing unto itself our human misery in order to redeem it. 

Let us, then, lift our misery, as we celebrate today the Divine Mercy Sunday, to the sacred heart of Jesus with total trust in God’s mercy. We have to acknowledge our utter need for God’s mercy.  We cannot save ourselves from our human misery.  We need God’s mercy to set us free.  We are not redeemed by our meritorious efforts but by the unmerited gift of unconditional love expressed by God’s infinite mercy.  To the most merciful heart of Jesus we pray: “Jesus, I trust in you.”

Celebrating the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The gospel reading today (Jn 20: 19-31) reveals the mercy of God as the Risen Lord confronted his fearful disciples not with reproach but with the greeting of peace. Their hearts had been troubled by fear or even by guilt for abandoning the Lord. Hence, mercifully He gave them his peace turning their fears into joy. But more significantly, this encounter with the Risen Lord empowered the Apostles to bring God’s mercy into this sinful world as He said to them: “Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”   Then He breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the holy Spirit. Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them, and whose sins you retain are retained” (v.21-23). This, then, is the institution of the Sacrament of Reconciliation---the sacrament of God’s mercy.  By this sacrament, the Church fulfils the mission for which she is sent—to proclaim to the world the forgiveness of sins by the grace of the divine mercy. 

We choose to pass through the door of God’s mercy every time we celebrate the sacrament of penance and reconciliation with a humble and contrite heart. Through the sacrament, we experience the joy of being forgiven.  St. Faustina revealed Jesus’ message concerning confession: When you approach the confessional, know this, that I Myself am waiting there for you. I am only hidden by the priest, but I Myself act in your soul. Here the misery of the soul meets the God of mercy (Diary, 1602).

Becoming merciful as the Father.  We glimpse mercy in action from the Acts of the Apostles. We see the early Christians so filled with the Holy Spirit that "no one claimed any of his possessions as his own." They instead "distributed to each according to his need" (Acts 2:44-45). Mercy in action involves the selfless effort to provide those who are in need with their share of the world's blessings.  Again, in Misericordiae Vultus, Pope Francis exhorts: “It is my humble desire that, during this Jubilee, the Christian people may reflect on the corporal and spiritual works of mercy. It will be a way to reawaken our conscience… to enter more deeply into the heart of the Gospel” (MV, 16). 

This invitation is, again, a reminder of one of the many things Jesus demanded from St. Faustina: "I demand from you deeds of mercy... You are to show deeds of mercy to your neighbours always and everywhere."

Let us become merciful as the Father is merciful. We who have experienced the unmerited gift of God’s mercy have to allow the same grace to be channelled through us. Let us reach out to those who are in misery. By our works of mercy, both corporal and spiritual, we become the heart of Jesus today inviting all within our reach to join us in passing through the door of God’s mercy.

We pray: “Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy on us and on the whole world. Amen.”

New Normal: Business as Usual? (Easter Sunday)

             

In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic forced the whole world to undergo community lockdowns and quarantine measures that halted everything we all used to do--Yes, even going to the church! Cathedrals and churches were closed even during the holiest of the liturgical seasons—the holy week and the Easter Triduum. I can still remember celebrating the Easter Vigil mass, the mother of all vigils, in an empty cathedral! Understandably, the prayer request of most of the faithful then was for the speedy containment of the transmission of the coronavirus so that all can go back to doing what we used to do.

All were praying for deliverance from the devastating plague of the Covid-19 pandemic. All the Powerful governments, together with the giant multinational corporations, the world economic experts, religious leaders all around the world and practically just everyone were wishing that our social life may return to normal as quick as possible. We were all wishing for the resumption of our human activities--in other words, to be back to business as usual.

But a few months back before the pandemic, a tiny but angered voice was heard by the whole world: “BUSINESS AS USUAL? HOW DARE YOU!” This was the straightforward statement of Gretta Thunberg, a teen-age Swedish environmental activist who fearlessly confronted the world leaders gathered at the United Nations Climate Summit. She was challenging them as world leaders to take up radical measures to address the climate emergency.  Admittedly, it has been a struggle for researchers and activists to get the world leaders to take the climate threat seriously. It has been quite easy to lose faith in what these leaders can do or will commit to do in saving our common home as they are intent on keeping everything as they are—business as usual. And alas! It’s not only them. Most of us too uncritically wish to resume and maintain the convenience and comfort of our consumerist lifestyle. So we all turn a blind eye to the climate crisis and look forward to the “new normal” which is, in other words, business as usual.

The Coronavirus put a stop to the world’s daily business-as-usual grind. Everything halted. Incredible! We all learned to settle, even for a while, with what is essential. If God allowed the pandemic to happen, it could only be with a good purpose. And maybe, it is to bring a new beginning. God writes straight with crooked lines. The pandemic is our own undoing. We brought this on ourselves. But God can turn this great misfortune into an equally great blessing. Hence, our prayer for deliverance from the plague must be from a humble disposition of willingness to learn our lesson and to accept God’s message for the salvation.

Our celebration of Easter brings up this hope for a new beginning. After all, Easter is all about new life. I repeat: New life! Not the business-as-usual sinful old life. The Lord died on the cross so that He might vanquish the power of sin and death as He rose again ushering in the new and glorious life for all. Today, we rejoice. We sing Alleluia! Jesus, Our Lord is risen! He brings new life to all.  This is our Easter hope.

If humanity should survive, yes survive we must, the over-all devastation wrought by the Covid-19 pandemic, we pray that we may be ushered into the newness of life. But just as Jesus Christ won for us this new life by dying on the cross, we ought to die too to our old ways in order to rise to this newness.

We all look forward to the “new normal”-- the new way of being and doing.  What aspect of our old way of being that has to die in order to give rise to a new way of being? What lessons have we learned from the pandemic experience? Let me suggest some:

We have to die to our delusion of omnipotence that we may rise as a people with total trust in God’s wisdom and Lordship!

We have to die to our egoism and self-centeredness that we may rise as a people who humbly and deeply care for one another especially the socially disadvantaged.

We have to die to our anthropocentric worldview and materialistic lifestyle that we may rise as people committed to the integrity of creation and genuinely respectful of the interconnection and interdependence of all created beings.

We have to die to our ever growing fixation to a culture of death that we may rise as a people with deep love for the value and sanctity of life even those of the wayward among us.

We have to die to our greediness in hoarding wealth in the hands of the few that we may rise as a people conscious about providing each with his/her share.

We have to die to our ever increasing global interdependence that we may rise as a people who have empowered our small and local but self-sufficient communities.

We have to die to our recklessness in allowing disintegration of our families that we may rise as a people who always have vibrant and loving homes to stay at in good times and in bad.

Let us always remember what the angel said to the women who went to visit the tomb of Jesus very early of the first day of the week:   “Do not be afraid! You seek Jesus of Nazareth, the crucified. He has been raised; he is not here” (Mk. 16: 6-7).  Christ lives! He wants us to live new lives! Not the business-as-usual old life we have gotten used to… but the one that has been through death and has risen.

Magnanimous Heart (Passion Sunday A)

Mother Teresa used to tell an anecdote about suffering:  "I never forget one day when I met a lady who was dying of cancer and I could see the way she was struggling with that terrible pain. And I said to her: ‘You know this is but the kiss of Jesus, a sign that you have come so close to Him on the cross that He can kiss you.’  And she joined her hands together and said, 'Mother Teresa, please tell Jesus to stop kissing me'."

Mother Teresa explained her story by saying, "This is the joy of suffering, the kiss of Jesus. Do not be afraid to share in that joy of suffering with Him because He will never give us more suffering than we are able to bear." When she herself struggled with being overwhelmed at times, Mother Teresa also said, "I know God won't give me anything I can't handle, but I just wish he didn't trust me so much!"

No one in his right mind wishes to suffer.  But in this broken and sinful world, suffering is an inevitable lot.  Mother Teresa taught us to embrace it anyhow with joy believing that we are suffering with Jesus.  Hence, we share in Jesus’ suffering which is redemptive.

Today, we contemplate Jesus’ passion and death not in order to glorify suffering as such. Suffering is brought about by sin; nothing glorious in that. But in contemplation of his passion, we discern the greatness of the heart of Jesus and the depth of God’s love for us.  Our liturgical readings today allow us to see, not so much the horrendous face of suffering itself, but the magnanimity of Jesus’ heart as He fulfills his self-sacrificing mission of saving all of us. Jesus’ magnanimity is seen in his humility, obedience, and trust in the Father.

Humility.  Today’s liturgy begins with the commemoration of Jesus’ triumphant entry into the city of Jerusalem.  The reading (Mt 21:1-11), portrays Jesus entering the city riding on a donkey.  The symbolic meaning of the donkey shows us how Jesus the Christ won his victory over sin and evil: through humility. He could have entered majestically with horses and chariots as the kings of their times did. No. He chose to ride a donkey which was a useful beast of burden, but not a glorious and impressive one.

And that's exactly like the Christian virtue of humility, by which we lower ourselves in order to help raise up others, to serve them. And this is what Jesus did, as St. Paul tells us in today's second reading (Phil 2:6-11): “Though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  While the Messiah was expected by all to come and rule with power and might, Jesus chose to be a suffering Messiah enduring all the pains and humiliations done against him.  By way of humility, Jesus raised us all up.

Obedience.  The sin of the first parents was disobedience to God.  Adam and Eve’s defiance shattered God's beautiful plan.  It let loose the scourge of evil, and the power of sin took over earthly society. No one could liberate oneself from the slavery of sin. Only the Savior, Jesus Christ.  And through his passion, death, and resurrection, Jesus reversed the disobedience of original sin by obeying his Father's will. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus agonized over his impending passion and death as he prayed: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” 

The long reading on the Passion of our Lord (Mt 26:14—27:66) underscores Jesus’ obedience to the Father in spite of all the devil's attempts to foil his saving mission. All the sufferings of Jesus—the pain of betrayal  and abandonment by close friends, the false accusations and condemnation, the humiliation, the scourging and crowning with thorns, the torture of crucifixion—were the devil's attempts to get Jesus to say "no" to his Father, just as he had gotten Adam and Eve to say "no." But Jesus remained obedient to the Father even unto his death.  Jesus’ submission to the will of the Father reversed mankind’s disobedience.  

Trust.  Those who were mocking our crucified Lord said: “He trusted in God; let him deliver him now if he wants him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” This was perhaps the greatest test of Jesus’ trust in the Father.  When he was nearing his last breath, the Father was silent, tolerant of all Jesus had suffered; the Father seemed to have abandoned him as he hang on the cross bearing the sinfulness of mankind.  So, in a loud voice, Jesus cried out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This was perhaps the darkest hour in all of Jesus’ life. But still Jesus surrendered everything to the Father. When even his own human understanding could no longer fathom the depth of the mystery of his own death, Jesus turned to the Father with complete trust.  Just before Jesus took his last breath, he cried out: “Father, into your hands, I commit my spirit” (Lk 23:46).

As we contemplate the passion of our Lord, let us see beyond the bruises, gaping wounds and the humiliations that our Lord endured. Let us see not just the suffering of Jesus but precisely what made his suffering meaningful for us—his great love.  Indeed, as Mother Teresa mentioned, we can speak of “the joy of suffering” with Jesus; it is when we embrace our own share of suffering with magnanimity of heart shown in our humility, obedience, and total trust in God.