A remark this week from a good friend sparked my thoughts about Advent and our preparations for Christmas. He observed about how the prophesy about the end times is certainly happening when powerful and respected political leaders in the world try at every opportunity to dismantle our Catholic (moral) value system in the name of fairness, courage and inclusiveness, and that they do in the most presentable and slick manner that sounds utterly convincing. 

There is no denying that the world has certainly changed. We live in the 21^st century, “wake up please”. There are so many choices to choose from as to how we want to live our life. Liberal choices, conservative choices. It is certainly a long time ago when our Catholic value system was born into the world on that Christmas day in Bethlehem. Since then Man has certainly changed, but God hasn’t. 

God’s love has remain a constant. He constantly calls out to us to watch where we are going, He is constantly reaching out to all people, to everyone; his love never conditional to the need to accept him first. He is constantly welcoming and never ever judgemental. And we know that He constantly forgives in an instant no matter how many instances we ask for forgiveness. All these haven’t changed. 

Christmas is celebrated because a long time ago Man had experienced these to be real in their lives. Slick politicians too as governments they formed declared it a holiday. But like everything else, now we have a choice to say “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Holidays”. We even debate this. 

We can be liberal or conservative but it’s an identity Man created. On that first Christmas day, God gave us an identity that hasn’t changed, that as a child of God. Man created a choice to be liberal or conservative and we spend time judging one another citing our personal rights and man-made laws. God gave us a free choice to live but with a guide to live a morally good life with the assurance that we won’t be judged until our personal end time. He only wants us to know that his love exists in our lives regardless of our identity as liberal or conservative. He says “stay awake, please” to his presence in our lives.  

Celebrating Christmas is not a statement of the lifestyle we have chosen. It is not a platform to argue what is politically correct to say or not to say or how we should be greeting one another. Celebrating Christmas is not about being religious or not. Christmas Day is a day to remind ourselves that God exists.  

We have come a long way in time. Once we were just enjoying the innocent fun of the existence of Santa Claus. Today we try to be ‘correct’ to disprove his existence. We would do well, courageous actually, to accept that Christmas is inclusive, because it happened for everyone regardless of our choices, regardless of our identities, regardless of whether we believe or not.

Do not place Christ beside Santa. Because over time God has constantly loved us as his children, unconditionally and freely regardless of whether we choose to accept or reject.

A Christmas tree in central Bangkok last year

1st Sunday in Advent

The homilist this morning insightfully stated that Christ wants to establish his kingdom in our hearts. And he asked if we will allow Christ to do so? For often our hearts are compartmentalised not allowing Christ to rule over every aspect of how we live. 

I would describe myself as such, often living along the borders of the kingdom, dashing in only when I am in need of divine intervention; strongly desiring for an outcome or desperately struggling in a crisis. There is quite a lot of fun living outside the kingdom and I am close to the border line because I live in ways often comprising the laws of the kingdom (in plain terms, ‘sin’).  

I flirt with the possibility that one day, while outside, the door back into the kingdom will be shut in my face. How is it that I can be so foolishly brave?  

I live with a complacency that I have inherited through my faith in an always loving God, a belief stretching into the assumption that forgiveness is always available to me. I only have to knock on the door of mercy.

Today’s second reading spoke of giving thanks to God the Father, who has even open the possibility for me to join the saints and with them inherit the light. “Because that is what he has done: he has taken us out of the power of darkness and created a place for us in the kingdom of the Son that he loves, and in him, we gain our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins.”

As I venture further into my complacency, and further away from the kingdom, my lifestyle reach a border where the world is darkened, brightened only by the neon lights of deception. Over this border, my faith in God is jeered, my belief in his existence mocked. I have reached the secular world of today.

As I reflect on the meaning of God’s kingdom reigning in my heart. I ask myself “do I want to allow this earthly world to consume me?”

“He is the image of the unseen God”

The image of the crucifix. A King with a crown of thorns. A body scourged and bloodied. Nailed to a cross. Hung to die. A sorrowful sight, but an act of love defying every border of human understanding, every limit of pain in the name of Love. The power of Love. The image of the resurrection: “He was first to be born from the dead”.

Behold the sight for this was the ransom paid for me to live my complacent lifestyle. Is this how I have chosen to repay my King?

It is time to give thanks and knock foolishness out. And allow access to all of my heart for the Kingdom of God to reign, and have a lifestyle to witness for Christ the King.

“He is the image of the unseen God”                 (Church of the Holy Spirit, Singapore)

The Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe

By some work of the Spirit, this Sunday’s readings speak somewhat of the mood of the world following this week’s US Elections. The surprised world greeted Trump’s victory with fear. Many fear this to be the beginning of the end. Doomsday scenario as painted in the first reading. “The day that is coming is going to burn them up leaving them neither root nor stalk”. 

Red state, blue state, this has been a divisive campaign with many issues threatening core values. Protests on the streets and on social media indicate that wounds run very deep and healing is much needed. Yes, the President of America can start a healing process and he must. But amidst all this uncertainty and fear, a government has no power to change our inner state, our core values and reset our moral compass; that power still belong to us as individuals. 

Governments may not always make pro-life choices. As a government they can legalise abortion, and as a government allow for that choice. But it is up to the individual to decide based on their own belief. We cannot force a non-Catholic to conform to what Catholics believe in. We could vote blue but still make Catholic choices. 

We must not allow governments to dictate who we can become. They are a kingdom of this world. If every individual have been living according to the laws of the kingdom of heaven, the world would not be even near this divisive state. “Nations will fight against nations, and kingdom against kingdom”. Beneath all this rubble, it is within our power to retain our values as a Catholic. 

And make a difference. There has been no better “opportunity to bear witness”, no better sign to show that the only kingdom that can withstand total destruction is that of God’s.  

Governments can build walls and divide God’s people through colour, race and religion. How have we arrived back here? We must look deep inside ourselves and see if there aren’t already walls we ourselves have built inside us. If the walls are there, there is little difference who a physical wall along the border can keep out. We could vote red but still make Catholic choices. 

The sooner we realise this the better. There will only be one kingdom that will reign. “All these things you are staring at now – the time will come when not a single stone will be left on another; everything will be destroyed” 

Let us not live in fear of a presidency but let us live in fear of God; to “fear God” is different from being scared and afraid of a president’s policies (and lifestyle!) but to have awe, wonder and reverence for God and to be subjects of his love.  

“But for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness will shine out with healing in its rays” 

In our everyday life, the election isn’t over. In every moment we can choose to love and be righteous in all be do. We can bring walls down and bring healing in.  

Hey man, we all need the sun.

33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Most of us believe in life after death. We believe “in the resurrection from the dead”. But many of us are preoccupied in trying to get the best out of our daily life to pay much attention to an eventuality that will happen to everyone. It is almost like saying “we’ll see what happens when we get there”.

But “get there” we all will; some blessed with time to prepare through illness while others unfortunately, all too suddenly. Today’s readings speak of crossing the divide between life and death. Through quite a dramatic account, the first reading speaks of the choices we make in our daily life, of whether we have the chosen the way of God or that of man.

The “way of man” is present in the daily buzz and busy-ness of daily life. This buzz and busy-ness is not in itself wrong. In fact, born into this world we must journey through it but in this buzz and busy-ness are the opportunities for us to make the choice to live “the way of God”.

“Ours is the better choice, to meet death at men’s hands, yet relying on God’s promise that we shall be raised up by him; whereas for you there can be no resurrection, no new life”.  

To die is to cross a divide so as to live on. The choice for most of us to live on into “new life” does not come at the point of death but gently, forgivingly in each choice we make in the buzz and busy-ness of daily life. It is in the small actions of what we do for others that our choice for new life is made.

We must live life in the fullness of Christ. We must live a life of selfless giving for others and for God. And when we do so, we make real for others and ourselves the assurance given to us at baptism for “they can no longer die, for they are the same as angels, and being children of the resurrection they are sons of God”.

We can be this experience of hope and promise to the people we encounter in our daily life, especially in all we can do for them. Personal experiences are powerful as they set us into a deep conviction and onto an unwavering course to claim the promise of life after death.

We were at the bedside of a loved one waiting for death to take her away. On the night of the fifth day of the vigil she said that it was difficult to die as we were clinging on to her. Asked if she wanted a personal goodbye from each family member, she asked instead that we all gather around her bed for prayer. At the end of the prayer, she waved her hand in farewell uttering, “Alleluia, alleluia! 

She was never schooled and is not able to read nor write. Her participation in prayer with us and at mass had always been limited to one word. “Amen”. For her to say “Alleluia” was extraordinary in itself. She also then waved away attempts to pray on.  

With “Alleluia, alleluia” as her final words to us, she began crossing the divide between life and death. By the time the sun rose to a new day, she was across on the other side.

When she uttered “Alleluia, alleluia”, she must have seen the angels and all her loved ones who had gone before her descending with the communion of saints to bring her into new life after death. For that must be the reason for her to proclaim “Alleluia, alleluia!” Glory and praise to God, indeed. She must have seen.

 She lived her daily life choosing the way of God, clinging on to the beatitude “for blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven”.

Experiencing this crossing of the divide made the resurrection from the dead powerfully real for me. I too ‘saw’ and can respond with today’s psalm, “Lord, when your glory appears, my joy will be full”.

Following Christ across the divide: from the cross of death to the resurrection of new life (photo taken at the Shrine of Blessed Nicholas Bunkerd, Nakhon Pathom, Thailand

32nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

Last Saturday in Bangkok, more than 200,000 people gathered to sing the royal anthem in tribute and remembrance of the late King. Individually they came, collectively they formed a sea of black clad mourners. These past 2 weeks, witnessing this expression of love has surprised, and at times overwhelmed me, a foreigner living amongst them. Literally, I wish I could climb a tree to see this touching spectacle, this manifestation of emotions, this sea of unifying love. 

Love surprises when it brings us far beyond what we thought are our limitations. It overwhelms when it touches us deep inside, perhaps right where our true identity lies, the core of our being, often hidden beneath expectations and desires of our worldly life. Supressed, subdued, awaiting a call to be set free. 

Many of us are like Zacchaeus. We deem ourselves somewhat unworthy, disbelieving that we are deserving of God’s grace. Amongst people who know us, it will seem unlikely that we are capable to live a holy life. We are camouflaged by the world, our manifested identities lost in the changing colours of a chameleon. But deep in each of us we all have a desire for good. Embedded in this desire is a constant call to bring this identity to the forefront of our lives; to live it. “For the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost”. 

This call is amplified when some things happen to us in life and through these experiences our innermost identity is touched and aroused. It is especially amplified when we experience love over hurt. It moves us when relationships are mended and we reconcile. The joy it brings can overwhelm us to the point of wanting to change our lives; the love experienced, an inspiration to conversion. 

We must seek out experiences of love and save what had been lost in our personal life, and it could be our relationship with the Son of Man. 

Change is not that difficult. Who we can become is already in all of us. We only need to “climb a tree”, to take a physical step however small that may be to demonstrate that we are a willing party for conversion. That is good enough, and God “will make you worthy of his call, and by his power fulfil all your desires for goodness”. It ask only for a small step and an ounce of faith and he will “complete all that you have been doing through faith”. 

We must have heard our fair share of stories of people who have encountered the love of God through reconciliation and how their lives have changed for the better. We have been curious by the transforming effect in people around us but despite it, some of us may still find ourselves stalled in spiritual inertia. It may be due to our perceived unworthiness or lack of belief in ourselves. But sometimes we are simply contented being “ourselves”, unfussed by the tiny ounce of curiosity.  

We must then be like Zacchaeus, not suppressing our curiosity but “climb a tree” to address our “anxiety to see what kind of man Jesus is”. His simple action opened the door to his inner self, into his hidden true identity of one who knows love, is loved and can love. It opened the door to ‘change’ and began the process of his conversion. “Hurry, because I must stay in your house today”. 

Love as I have witnessed in Thailand is a powerful tool of conversion. Alone, it transform self; together it transform a nation. It brings us beyond personal boundaries and we discover the grace to reconcile. Together it unifies, crossing divides of differences. Love gives hope, and with hope, sadness will become joy. 

But it begins with me. I must make that effort to go to the Palace to be part of the 200,000. I must do my small part; I am called to conversion. Individually we change, collectively we become an ocean of good. Change, conversion, is really not that difficult. We only need to tell ourselves, “I must climb the sycamore tree”.

A centuries old sycamore tree in Jericho

31^st Sunday in Ordinary Time

I have fought the good fight to the end; I have run the race to the finish; I have kept the faith; all there is to come now is the crown of righteousness reserved for me. 

We oscillate between self-made and God made. There is a tug of war between worldly and spiritual. Exalted against humble. Self-righteousness versus true righteousness.

Our identity falls somewhere in between that of the Pharisee and the tax collector. We know we need to be humble but struggle to remain. The races of this world declares a winner when we have left everyone behind. The race St Paul speaks of is not of winning but of completing. “I have run the race to the finish”.

Everyday life constantly demands a race out of us. We fight to be the best in school, at work, in social life and in everything we do. Meritocracy is the system, and often there is nothing much wrong with that, and there is nothing much we can do about it. The world rewards a winner. And so ‘I’ need to excel and to exalt myself.

Christian life reminds ‘me’ that every time ‘I’ win, there will be a trail of disappointed people as a consequence. But I cannot give up my place in university or my promotion at work. I have earned it. It is mine. ‘I’ am blessed with abundant gifts and talents. ‘I’ have made the most of it, seizing opportunities that come my way. A self-made man, “God, be thankful for me, a winner” who have used your gifts to the full.

Everyday Christian life calls out to us. It reminds us of the people around us, those left in the trail of disappointments; those perhaps who have less than us. To win the race in everyday life, we have to use our talents and outfight everyone else. To win the race in Christian life, the one St Paul described, is to use our talents and help those around us, to finish the race.

Christian life is a journey. Born into this world, a journey that can take us in many directions. Like an open desert, we can go in any direction but risk being lost. But God has given us a compass and equipped us with talents.

Our race is to get away from the poverty of this worldly life into the riches of the heaven of eternal life. On the way, we fight the elements of this world, the distractions that will lead us off course and deeper into a desert of spiritual poverty. To God, the ‘winner’ are those who complete the race of life, not by being the only one emerging from it, but rather how we fought to stay the course of Christian morality. He crowns those who had been righteous in his name.

Often it involves us using our gifts and talents to help the neighbours along the way to finish their race as we finish ours. It is not about crossing the finish line alone and ahead of everyone else but rather to cross it with as many neighbours as we can in whose lives we had made a helpful impact.

Our present identity probably falls somewhere in between that of the Pharisee and the tax collector; the value system of this world constantly lures us deeper into desert of spiritual poverty but the voice of the Spirit is often heard in the desert calling us into a humility of total dependence on God to lead us into heavenly riches. This tug of war, this oscillation, is our conversion process.

This is our true race: to complete our conversion when instead of saying “God be thankful for I am a winner”, we say “God be merciful to me, a sinner”. In this fight to complete our race, humility is our grinding stone. To God, be the glory.

The journey to complete our race of life. We fight to get out of the desert of worldly life into the oasis of heavenly life

 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time

When life is completed it will look like an intricate mosaic. We are each like a small mosaic tile, insignificant on our own but together become a beautiful image. The image loses perfection with the absence of one single tile. It does not matter which part of the mosaic we sit, even if we are right in the middle. Because alone, we cannot carry the overall beauty of the image of the mosaic. When we live life side by side with one another, we each play a contributing role in the beauty of life. 

Life is this intricate mosaic. We ask for space to fit in among other tiles. At the same time, we must give space to ensure that neighbouring tiles fit in around us. In life, sometimes we ask, sometimes we give. We can sympathise with today’s poor widow asking but often in life we also play the role of the judge, unjust in many ways, often in delaying to give when we can. Other tiles have to wait to fit in around us, and they may wait a long time. 

When we pray to ask God for something in life, he as the Ultimate Giver will want to grant it to us. But he depends also on others to cooperate in the giving. If left up to him alone, there will be no hunger or poverty in this world. But worldly life is a journey towards salvation and on our ticket to this ride, it states that we will all be given a free choice to give and take. We, as “others”, have a choice to exercise our right to give, and how speedily we choose to exercise this right.  

In God’s picture of salvation, each tile has just rights to sit beside each other. This is God’s plan, this his will. Ultimately, we will all fit. This is his faithful promise.

Today he assures us, “will not God see justice done to his chosen who cry to him day and night even when he delays to help them?” but we “need to pray continually and never lose heart” or “to pray always without becoming weary”.  

In asking, we can and will be tired of waiting because of our human nature. But because we live in faith journeying towards the promise of eternal salvation, we must not grow weary or lose heart. The answer will come.  

In giving, we can soothe the tiredness of others by reducing the time of their waiting when we give speedily. We as a single mosaic tile must polish our rough edges so that other tiles can fit in beautifully around us. “Giving” is this polish. This is the wisdom from the second reading today, “the wisdom that leads to salvation through faith in Christ Jesus” as we have a capacity to be a dedicated giver “fully equipped and ready for any good work”. 

Life in motion is the dynamics of asking and giving, each person co-existing next to one another. The perfect mosaic of salvation is to have every tile smoothened on its edges in place, all together forming an image that tells a perfect story of our journey together to claim salvation. God, the ultimate giver himself provides his Love as fuel to set life in motion, and the glue that hold all the tiles in place in picture perfect harmony. 

Moses, on journey in the first reading, is this image of perfect harmony. He raised his arms up till they were tired in asking but he never grew weary because he knew of God’s love. As he asked, he was also giving; his tiredness pushed his capacity to its limits. Through his giving “the edge of the sword of Joshua cut down Amalek and his people”. 

For us to be the one tile in the mosaic of life, we must not be weary in asking nor tired in giving.

Each tile insignificant on its own but together become a beautiful mosaic at the house of St Peter in Capernaum

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

To be thankful and to be grateful is quite different. The 10 lepers in today’s passage would very likely all have been thankful to have found themselves cured. Being thankful is part of our human nature. If we found ourselves in the situation of these 10, we would have muttered, or even shouted “Thank God!” 

We would have gone on to capture the moment with a ‘selfie’, texted on instant messaging and posted on social media. We would have celebrated excitedly with friends and family this “miracle in my life”. Since we have been taught that God exists and “He can do great things” we may simply feel lucky to be a recipient of this gift. We do not get far beyond the point of muttering our thanks and nodding in heaven’s direction. This would have been so for many a number of factors but one of which is that we lack the awareness of God, present and interested in our personal life. 

One of ten dwelled on the moment. In dwelling into what had just happened, he silenced the distractions around him and overcame ‘the urge for a selfie’. In the silence he felt thankful, deeper down in him he felt a sense of gratefulness. The gratefulness was calling out to him to seek the Giver. He responded and through physical healing he found spiritual bliss.  

God is active in our everyday life but buried and hidden under the mayhem of the distractions of our worldly desires and priorities. Often unseen and unrealised, God puts to order the disorder of our personal life. Because of his unconditional love he will continue to do so for any “10 lepers” even if 9 went away each time without gratefulness.  

Gratefulness is a powerful blessing. It is a blessed tool to open our eyes to see the powerful presence of God in our personal life. Gratefulness opens up our heart to respond to this divine presence every day, every moment. Through gratefulness we become acutely aware of God and enter into a personal relationship with him. We go beyond the moment of thanks into the spiritual bliss of experiencing our faith.  

Gratefulness is a gentle way to journey towards God. God calls us to be closer to him every day but often we cannot hear his call amidst the loud cacophony of our daily distractions. We are much like the 9 lepers too busy and too excited wanting to get back quickly into the rhythm of our worldly life, not wanting to miss a beat.  

Often it is easier to see and hear God when we are in deep despair, when we have not much left and few people to turn too. In a prolonged period of darkness we stretched out our hands and grope desperately to find a divine presence. We break thresholds of pain through emotional sufferings before we wise up to embrace faith and go through healing to discover that God is present in our life every day, every moment. 

Gratefulness helps us to bypass the rough steps to climb towards God. Being grateful, not just merely thankful, for the many small blessings in our daily life keep our heart and eyes open to an unseen God who through his unconditional love want to be visible in our personal life. Being grateful is to dwell in God’s presence. The opportunities comes to us in many small gentle moments each day.

We can choose how we want to live our life. We can walk towards our Giver of life, thanking him each step along the way. And like the one leper, we can opt for the path of gratefulness as it is the gentle stairway to heaven.

Stone steps by the Church of St Peter in Gallicantu on which probably Jesus walked on from the Last Supper to Gethsamane

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

I have been faithful to my belief in the Catholic Church all my life. Faith was built on teachings; catechism classes as a kid, and into Christian apologetics fiercely defending the faith as a young adult. There was an unshakeable conviction in my belief. Faith and belief were two of the same. I had always thought so. Without ever pondering on it, the difference in my understanding of belief and faith was probably the size on a mustard seed. 

We will only begin to ponder when our deeply held belief gets challenged. Often this happens when challenges in life turn into a crisis and we realise that our “deeply held belief” are not deeply rooted at all. Faith flickers to life when belief is almost dead. Faith becomes real when we enter into the darkness of a crisis, when we realise our “long held belief” did not buy us that ticket for a smooth sailing life.  

It is in that darkness where our small seed of faith germinates. When the going in life gets tough, when our belief can explain nothing no more, we search for the divine in our life. Our journey in life enters a deep, long tunnel. In that darkness, we see nothing and can only cling on to hope for light at the end of it. “Faith” says St Paul “is an assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”. 

Faith grows through our personal encounters with the Divine. When we pull out of the tunnel and look at our life in the light, the journey we had just travelled, we experience hope fulfilled. Understanding from belief becomes wisdom from faith. Such an experience in life gives birth to faith. Faith, unlike belief, cannot be taught. Faith is an experience and it grows from our many encounters with God on our journey through life. 

An encounter with God is an experience in life when we know we are being loved. This is the nature of God: to love us first, unconditionally and most times unseen. Faith open our eyes to see and our hearts to feel. Both love and faith cannot be rationalised in the mind. 

When we ask today “to increase my faith” we make ourselves available to experience the limitless, infinite depth of God’s Love. Imagine standing on the seashore and one tiny drop of the ocean represents the love of God we already experienced in our life journey thus far. “Increase our faith” make available for us the entire vastness and depth of the ocean. It is somewhat like having faith the size of only a mustard seed and we can say to a mulberry tree “Be uprooted and planted in the sea” and it will obey. 

This beggars belief but faith offers “not a spirit of timidity, but the Spirit of power, and love, and self-control” to embrace our journey in life. We cannot, and must not, be limited by the boundaries of belief. 

This is best summarised by the author Rea Nolan Martin who writes, “Belief is the product of the mind, but faith is not. Faith is the product of the spirit. The mind interferes in the process of faith more than it contributes to it. To have faith in the worst of times will no doubt require us to silence, or at least, to quiet the mind. Faith is what happens when our beliefs run aground. The spirit can be buoyed by our beliefs, but can also be brought down by them when they prove inadequate, as they most certainly will at some point in the journey”.  

Life is this journey from the head to the heart. Along the way, a mustard seed is all we need to be assured of things hoped for and be convinced of things yet unseen.

Mustard seeds in the compound of the Church of St Lazarus in Bethany

 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time

We could well be tempted to tune out from this Sunday’s message by simply declaring that we are not rich, “No, not THAT rich”! But let our conscience be pricked. We will be reminded of a “Lazarus” in our life; people who could have done with some help from us when they appeared in our life. If we didn’t see him, then rich or less rich, this reading is calling out to us. Because likewise, the purple rich man did not ‘see’ Lazarus at all in his life.

This is yet again not about being rich but about how we can be blinded by our quest to accumulate wealth for oneself. Money can buy us a lot of fun; short term worldly happiness leading to self-gratification and vainglory. When we are bored with one option, our accumulated wealth allows us to move on to another. The world offers us a wealth of options; lifestyles that will constantly distract us from living an authentically good life.

We begin to get blind when we see more value in spending our next dollar to “dress in purple and fine linen and to feast magnificently every day” rather than to share it with the “poor man Lazarus” who is always ‘sitting’ right before our eyes. This is no debate against wealth but a consideration about what we do with wealth. Being rich is not about how much we have but about how much we give.

Being wealthy is a blessing. It is a blessing of opportunities. The richer we are the more opportunities we have to live an authentically good life. But it is a double edged sword. When we spurn opportunities to use our blessings to do good for others, we create a rift between our spiritual and worldly lives. When we continue to ignore “Lazarus”, the rift widens into a “great gulf”. Yet this gulf remains cross-able as long as we are alive, if we take the opportunity to use our next dollar and expend it to do good for others.

Conversely wealth is this doubled edged sword. It becomes a curse when we continue to spurn opportunities till we are “dead and buried” and then regrettably we end up like “the rich man in purple looking up at Lazarus” for “between us and you a great gulf has been fixed”. 

Before we are dead and out, we have everyday opportunities to choose a lifestyle to “fight the good fight of the faith and win for yourself the eternal life to which you were called”. We have to fight, for disguised under the fine clothing of our worldly needs is the devil of vainglory.

A quote from Dr. Edward P Sri, a professor in theology about vainglory:

“Yet even devout Christians are susceptible to this vice when they plan their lives around the standards of happiness and success set up by the world. For example, a part of us might hope to gain respect from old friends and family members for having a successful career, wearing the latest fashions, having children succeed in school, living in a nice home, etc. These are not evil pursuits in themselves, but they can distract us from pursuing Christian ideals such as charity, generosity, simplicity, and humility. If these worldly pursuits hinder us from living a truly praiseworthy life-a life of virtue and holiness-then we may be seeking the vain glory of this world more than the glory of God.”

We have a wealth of money, time and gifts. They can be used to ensure we end up eternally beside Abraham, regardless of whether we were wearing purple.

Using his wealth of time and talent to prepare a magnificent feast for others

26th Sunday in Ordinary Time