Breaking the Word

2013-05-19T08:56:00.003+08:00

Pentecost Sunday (C)
Beyond Chicken & Duck Talk

Readings: Acts 2:1-11; Psalm 103:1,24,29-31,34; Romans 8:8-17; John 14:15-16,23-26

Picture: cc darkpaisley

Sisters and brothers, have you ever heard a baby trying to speak? You know what it sounds like, right? Sort of like goo goo da da. Or something like that? Which is really very cute. Except that it doesn’t mean anything. At least not to us who are listening. Even if the baby may be trying to express itself, it’s not using language that we understand. We don’t know what the infant actually wants to say. To do that, to truly understand, we have to wait till it actually learns to speak our language.

Something similar happens when people who speak different languages try to communicate with each other. The Cantonese have an interesting way of describing such a situation. They say it’s like a chicken and a duck. Which can be very frustrating. Neither party understands what the other is trying to say. No meaningful connection is made. At least not until the chicken and the duck somehow manage to find a common language. One that both can understand.

And isn’t this what happens at Pentecost? Isn’t this what we find the Holy Spirit doing in the first reading today? In a gathering of people who speak many different languages, the Spirit somehow enables each person to understand what is being said. We’re not sure exactly how it happens. The reading itself isn’t very clear. At first, we’re told that the disciples began to speak foreign languages. Then, later, it seems that, although the disciples were speaking a single language, each of those listening, heard them in the listener’s own native language. It all sounds very mysterious. But, whatever actually happened, one thing is clear. People who spoke languages different from them, somehow managed to understand everything that the disciples were saying. All through the power of the Holy Spirit.

But is that all that happened? Was it really only a matter of simultaneous or auto-translation? Is that the full extent of the Spirit’s power in the first reading? If it is, then maybe we should not be too impressed. After all, with the advances of modern technology, it’s not difficult to arrange something similar today. But could it be that something even more important is happening in the first reading? Something even more meaningful for us. For this amazing new language that the Holy Spirit taught the disciples to speak didn’t just enable them to connect with other people. More importantly, it enabled them to remain connected to God.

Isn’t this what Jesus is talking about in the gospel? If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home with him…. The Advocate, the Holy Spirit will teach you everything and remind you of all I have said to you. What is Jesus saying here, if not that the Holy Spirit teaches us to speak a new language. One that enables us to connect not just with other people, but also with God. And not just to connect with God, but even to allow God to make God’s home in us. What an incredible thought!

And what is this amazing language, sisters and brothers, if not the language of love? The language that we have spent the past seven weeks of the Easter Season celebrating and reviewing and practising. The same language that Jesus was speaking from the Table of the Last Supper to the Wood of the Cross. From the Tomb of his Burial to the Mount of his Ascension. The same language that Jesus continues to speak here at this Mass. From the Proclamation of the Word at the Ambo, to the Breaking of Bread at the Altar. The language of God’s undying love for us. A love that refuses to let us go. A love that continues tirelessly to seek us out. And to send us forth. This is what the Spirit teaches us. This is what the Spirit is for us. The power to speak and to live a new language. One that allows us to remain in communion with God and with one another.

Which also helps us to understand what Paul means in the second reading, when he makes a radical distinction between the unspiritual and the spiritual. Your interests are not in the unspiritual, Paul writes, but in the spiritual, since the Spirit of God has made his home in you. What is Paul saying, if not that the Spirit teaches us to speak a language that gains us access to God. No longer the unspiritual language of selfishness and sin. But the spiritual language of love and self-sacrifice. A new language that allows us finally to understand the Mysteries of God. The same Mysteries we are celebrating at this Eucharist. A language that enables us to cry out to God. No longer saying goo goo da da. But Abba, Father!

Sisters and brothers, isn’t this the true and precious gift of Pentecost. A gift that we need so much, especially in our world today. A world in which we find such difficulty connecting with those who may be different from us. And even with those who are very much the same. Our colleagues at work. Our fellow parishioners in Church. Members of our own communities and families. Ours is a world where we often feel surrounded by many, and yet truly known and understood by very few. A world that often seems to comprehend no other language than that of insecurity and jealousy. Of selfishness and greed. A language that leads too often to isolation and indifference and exploitation. Instead of solidarity and compassion and care.

In a world such as this, isn’t it all the more important for us, sisters and brothers, to do what the disciples did on that first Pentecost. Isn’t it all the more important for us to continue making every effort to speak and live and even to teach the new language that the Spirit imparts. No longer the self-centred dialect of infants. But rather the Spirit-inspired speech of the children of God. The language of God’s love for us made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Sisters and brothers, as we bring the great Season of Easter to a close, how might we continue to speak and to live this new language? How ready are we to keep progressing beyond chicken and duck talk today?

2013-05-11T21:28:00.004+08:00

7th Sunday in Easter (C)
Moving To Skype

Readings: Acts 7:55-60; Psalm 96:1-2,6-7,9; Apocalypse 22:12-14,16-17,20; John 17:20-26

Picture: cc jayneandd

Sisters and brothers, there was a time when, if you wanted to have a face-to-face conversation with someone, you had to take the trouble to actually travel to the place where that person happened to be. Otherwise, you’d have to settle for communicating over the phone, or through a letter, or email. But now, thanks to advances in modern technology, we’re actually able to see the person we’re talking to, even if s/he happens to be very far away. This is what Skype enables us to do, doesn’t it? Skype lets us see and speak to people from a distance. Without our having to travel to another place. I can have a face-to-face conversation even with someone on the other side of the globe. And all from the comfort of my own home. That’s the wonder of Skype. It allows us to enjoy the presence of our colleagues and business associates, our friends and our loved ones, without us actually having to travel great distances to wherever they may happen to be.

And yet, we should not allow ourselves to be fooled. As much as Skype is able to help us communicate without having to travel very far, isn’t it true that some kind of movement on our part is still always required? For one thing, even if people can now communicate from wherever they happen to be, they still have to be willing to at least come in front of their computers or smartphones. They also at least have to be willing to make time for each other. They at least have to be ready to share their thoughts and feelings with another. And to listen to what the other has to say. Just having the Skype programme in my computer will do me no good, if I have neither the desire nor the will to use it. However advanced the technology may be, true human connection still requires some degree of movement on my part. To communicate with another, there’s always a certain distance I have to travel. Even if it’s just the distance to wherever my computer may happen to be.

In order for meaningful connections to be established, some degree of movement is always required. And this is true not just of connections among human beings, but also especially of the connection with God. This is what our Mass readings are all about today. The establishment of face-to-face connections between human beings and God. Between earth and heaven. This is what Jesus is doing in the Gospel. The Lord prays. And he begins his prayer by establishing a connection with his Father. We’re told that Jesus raised his eyes to heaven and said, “Heavenly Father…” In the first reading, St. Stephen–the first martyr–does something very similar. Like Jesus, Stephen begins his prayer by shifting his gaze. We’re told that he turned his eyes to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at God’s right hand. The establishment of a connection between earth and heaven. This too is what St. John is writing about in the second reading. Except that here John is talking not just about any connection, but the final connection that will be made at the end of time. When Christ will descend from heaven to earth at the second coming.

But that’s not all. The establishment of a connection between earth and heaven doesn’t take place simply with a shift in one’s gaze. Some further movement is required. It’s quite striking to see, for example, how frequently the word come occurs in the second reading. And of the five times that the word come is used, only twice is it clearly addressed to Jesus. The one whose coming is so eagerly anticipated. Let everyone who listens answer, ‘Come.’ … Amen; come Lord Jesus. The other times the word come is used, it is addressed instead to the people who are waiting for the Lord. It is addressed to us. Happy are those who will have washed their robes clean, so that they… can come through the gates into the city.’ The Spirit and the Bride say, ‘Come.’ Then let all who are thirsty come... In anticipation of the second coming of Christ, in expectation of the final connection between earth and heaven, the second reading keeps speaking to us about the need for movement. Come!

But where? To which location are we to come? If we wish to Skype we know we need to find a computer or a smartphone. But what if we want to establish a connection with God? Where do we go for that? What movement do we need to make? The answer is found in our readings. In the first reading, what enables St. Stephen to make a connection with God is not just the shifting of his gaze into the heavens. Something else is going on. Something very significant.

We begin to appreciate what this movement is by carefully considering what is happening to Stephen. He is being stoned to death for his proclamation of the Good News. A proclamation that Stephen carries out in the power of the Holy Spirit. And it is also this same Spirit that enables Stephen to surrender his life into the hands of the Lord, even as he prays for the forgiveness of those who are killing him. Lord Jesus, he says, receive my spirit…. do not hold this sin against them. What we see in Stephen is a reproduction of the life of Christ. This is the movement that establishes a true connection with God. The movement into Christ. The transformation of a person’s life into the image and likeness of Christ. Who laid down his own life for us. So that we might have life in abundance.

Coming to Christ. Living and dying in Christ. This is the movement we need to make. And, contrary to what some others may think, this movement is made not in isolation but in community. To come to Christ is also to be more deeply immersed, to be more intimately involved, in the life of the Church, the Body of Christ. For this is also where Christ is found. As the Lord himself prays to his heavenly Father in the gospel, that they may be one as we are one. With me in them and you in me, may they be so completely one that the world will realise that it was you who sent me.

To establish a connection with God is to make a movement into Christ. A movement that entails deeper involvement in the Body of Christ. Isn’t this why we are here this evening? Not so much because failure to show up would mean being guilty of sin. Requiring a visit to the confessional. But more because we are thirsting for a connection to God in Christ. More because we are yearning to respond ever more positively to God’s invitation to us to come. To come to the living waters of the Body and Blood of Christ, in which we find life to the full.

Sisters and brothers, the Lord wishes to help us establish a deeper, more lasting connection with God. How ready are we to let Him Skype us today?

2013-05-05T22:24:00.000+08:00

6th Sunday in Easter (C)
From Breadcrumbs To Homing Pigeons

Readings: Acts 15:1-2,22-29; Psalm 66:2-3,5-6,8; Apocalypse 21:10-14,22-23; John 14:23-29

Picture: cc Ed Townend

Sisters and brothers, do you happen to know the difference between Hansel and Gretel and a homing pigeon? You remember, of course, who Hansel and Gretel are, right? They are characters from an old German fairy tale told by the Brothers Grimm. In the fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel are a pair of siblings–a brother and a sister–who lose their way in the forest and almost get eaten up by a wicked witch. But do you remember how they get lost in the first place? According to one version of the story, as they make their way through the forest, Hansel and Gretel leave a trail of breadcrumbs behind them, hoping to follow it when it’s time to go home. Unfortunately, as we might expect, birds eat up all the crumbs. And so, the pair get lost. Which just goes to show the dangers of relying only on breadcrumbs to find your way. Hansel and Gretel knew only one trail that could lead them home. When that trail was lost, so were they.

But breadcrumbs are not the only method to stay on course. At least not if you happen to be a homing pigeon. As you know, homing pigeons are so named because they have the uncanny ability to fly home even after being transported to a strange place many hundreds of kilometres away. And they do this not by relying on some temporary external trail. They don’t need breadcrumbs… Or curry puffs, or char siew paos, for that matter. Homing pigeons have an internal directional sense. An in-built map and compass, or GPS, which enables them to find and to fly in the right direction, no matter where they happen to be. How wonderful to have such an amazing ability. You never have to worry about getting lost. Never have to stress yourself out, rigidly trying to protect your breadcrumbs from being eaten. You can be flexible, because you’re always able to find your way home. Even when you’re taken to an unfamiliar place.

Breadcrumbs and homing pigeons. Two contrasting alternatives that are very similar to what we find in our Mass readings today. The first reading describes a crisis in the early Church, which finds itself at the crossroads. Needing to decide which direction to take. There is serious disagreement and long argument over whether or not non-Jewish Christians need to be circumcised. Whether people like us need to be circumcised. Some people say yes. Others no. Happily for us–especially those of us who happen to be male–the final decision of the Church was no.

But why, we may wonder, was there such a strong desire among some to say yes to circumcision? Were these people simply being stubborn and unreasonable? Was it a power-trip? A need to control others? Maybe. We can’t be sure. But perhaps there was also another reason. For the Jews, circumcision is a sign of fidelity to God. Like the breadcrumbs of Hansel and Gretel, circumcision marks a kind of trail leading to God. And if this was the only trail they knew, then it’s quite understandable that some Jewish Christians would be anxious to preserve it at all costs. Even if it meant burdening others. Non-Jews. What’s good for me must be good for you.

Thankfully, there were others in the early Church who did not rely only on the breadcrumbs of circumcision to make their way to God. There were others who had something like the ability of homing pigeons. Finding themselves in the strange new situation of a Church made up of both Jews and Gentiles, these Christians were somehow able to locate and to proceed along the right path to God. A path that did not require circumcision. A path that did not involve burdening others unnecessarily. A path that enabled the Church to grow, both in faith and in number. So that, in the words of the responsorial psalm, all nations could learn the saving power of God.

But how did they do it? How did the leaders of the Church home in on the right direction to take? To find out, we need to go back to the Bible. To the verses that have been left out of the reading for today. Here, we find at least three important elements. The first is sincere conversation. The leaders of the early Church met and talked to one another. And the second element consists in what they talked about. In addition to discussing their opinions and feelings, the leaders also shared their experiences. In particular, Paul and Barnabas spoke about the signs and wonders that God had worked through them among the uncircumcised Gentiles. Finally, having conversed sincerely and attended carefully to the workings of God, the leaders compared what they had heard with their knowledge of God’s actions in the past. Sincere conversation with one another. Careful attention to what God was doing in the present. And wise comparison with God’s work in the past. These are among the things that helped the leaders of the early Church to decide which direction was the right one to take. They did it not through the rigidity of anxiously guarding and following breadcrumbs. But with the flexibility and freedom of a homing pigeon.

Isn’t this also what Jesus is talking about in the gospel today? If anyone loves me he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we shall come to him and make our home with him. Isn’t this how the gift of the homing pigeon is acquired. In all circumstances, what we need to do is to keep looking to Christ. To remain in his love. To cultivate a sensitivity to his Holy Spirit, who teaches us everything. And reminds us of all that Jesus has said. Helping us to apply the Lord’s words to the concrete situations of our daily lives. Giving us that precious gift of peace that the world cannot give. And so enabling us to home in on the truth. To follow the right path. The one that leads to life.

And isn’t this also why, in the second reading, there is no temple building in John’s vision of the new Jerusalem? Instead, the Lord God Almighty and the Lamb were themselves the temple. In place of the rigidity of an external structure, what we find is the flexibility of the radiant glory of God and the Lamb. Which serves as a lighted torch, illuminating for us the safest and surest way home.

From the rigidity of breadcrumbs to the flexibility of homing pigeons. This movement remains an important one for us to make even today. Especially for those of us who are leaders of some sort. We need to recognise that just because something has been good for me in the past, doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s appropriate for everyone else at this particular time. St. Ignatius of Loyola, for example, warns spiritual directors to be careful not to impose their own favourite prayer methods on their directees. But to pay careful attention to how God is working with and in them. This movement from rigidity to flexibility is important also for the rest of us. Whether we are leaders or not. When, for example, unavoidable changes in our daily routine prevent us from keeping to an established habit of prayer. Such as when we get married, for example. Or have a new baby. Or fall ill. Or change jobs. How ready are we to cultivate a new routine of prayer? One that is more suited to our changed circumstances?

Sisters and brothers, how are we being called to make the movement from breadcrumbs to homing pigeons today?

2013-05-01T11:13:00.003+08:00

Wedding Mass of Raymond & Grace
Melting, Moulding & The Matrimonial Bond

Readings: Genesis 1:26-28, 31; Lk 1:46-55; Ephesians 4:1-6; Jn 2:1-11

Picture: cc Boudewijn Berends

Raymond and Grace, dear friends, imagine for a moment that, for some reason, you want to join two metal pieces together? What would you do? Well, one thing you could do is to apply some kind of adhesive between the two pieces. You could use Super Glue, for example. Or maybe something even stronger. Once applied, the adhesive holds the two pieces together. But this kind of bond depends for its strength only on the substance–the glue–that has been applied externally. The metal pieces themselves remain unchanged. Which is why such a technique is really only quite temporary, isn’t it? For a much more lasting, far stronger bonding, to take place, a different method is needed. The two metal pieces have to be welded together.

And we know what welding requires. We know why it produces a far stronger bond. Welding involves the application, not so much of an external adhesive, but of intense heat. The kind you get from the flame of a blowtorch, for example. The heat melts the edges of the metal pieces. And when they are pressed together, their boundaries are blurred. So that what was at first separate comes to be united. What was at first two becomes joined into one. And not just joined externally, by the application of some super adhesive. But joined from within, by the melting and moulding brought on by fire.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. This is what needs to happen when you want to join two pieces of metal permanently. But not just metal. Something like this also needs to happen when what is to be joined are two human persons. And this, my dear friends, as you know, is really what we are gathered here today to pray for and to witness. The joining together of two human hearts. The bonding of two separate lives. In the words of the prayer that we recited earlier, we are asking and wishing that Raymond and Grace may be joined together in a bond of inseparable love. That they may be united in a covenant of Marriage.

And the scripture readings that Raymond and Grace have chosen for us today help us to deepen our understanding of what this kind of bonding requires. The first reading takes us back to the first chapter of the first book of the Bible. Back to the very beginnings of creation. Reminding us that the marriage bond we are celebrating here today has its origins, not in human initiative alone, but in God. For we’re told that God created us in the image of himself. In the image of God he created him, male and female he created them. And those of us who are familiar with the creation story in the Bible will know that it goes on to tell us how this unity between male and female comes about. As you may recall, in the second chapter of the book of Genesis, we’re told that, having made man fall into a deep sleep, God took a rib out of man and fashioned woman. Which is really just another way of saying God blurred the boundaries between man and woman. Joining them together by first melting them in the intense fire of God’s love.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. This is what happens when two human hearts are welded together by the love of God. But that’s not all. In the Christian understanding, the welding that takes place in the marriage bond doesn’t happen in a vacuum. We gather today not just to celebrate the bond between husband and wife. Between Raymond and Grace. For the first reading also reminds us that the joining together of man and woman takes place against the background of other bonds. The bond between humanity and its Creator. And the bonds among all the created things of the earth. For not only does God create man and woman in the image of himself, God also blesses them and entrusts the whole of creation to their care. Be masters of the fish of the sea, the birds of heaven and all living animals on the earth.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. This is what creates the bonds that bind a man to a woman. This is also what binds the human being to the rest of creation. And, ultimately, to the Creator himself. All of which should help us to understand a little better what is being described in the gospel reading. Here, we find ourselves at a wedding reception encountering a major crisis. They ran out of wine. A crisis that Jesus averts by miraculously changing water into wine. But that’s not all. There is actually something deeper happening here. For the gospel story is not just about the marriage of an anonymous couple. It is really about a deeper reconciliation. A re-joining of another couple. A couple that had been married earlier, but had since drawn apart. An estranged couple. A separated couple. The story of the Wedding at Cana is really about the joining together again of God and God’s people. And notice how this takes place.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. First, the mother of Jesus cares enough to notice the crisis. The fire of love prompts her to mediate between her son Jesus and the servants. To her son she simply says, They have no wine. To the servants, Do whatever he tells you. And then the miracle happens. Jesus changes his mind. Although his hour has not come yet, he gets involved. For their part, the servants obey Jesus’ instructions. Egos are melted. Boundaries are blurred. Water is changed into wine. And those of us who are Christian will see something deeper. What is being described here is also the melting and moulding that joins humanity once again to its God. A joining brought about when Jesus allows himself to be melted on the Wood of the Cross. And then raised to life on the Third Day. A joining that we Christians celebrate every time we obey Jesus’ instruction to come together to listen to the Word of God, to share in the Bread of Life, and then to go forth to proclaim God’s love in word and deed to all whom we meet.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. This is what we celebrate today. The coming together of Raymond and Grace in the bond of holy matrimony. A bond that joins not just man and woman, but also God and humanity. Creator and all of creation. A bond that binds us–each of us gathered here–to one another. A bond of love and friendship. Of care and support. And we must be careful not to forget that this kind of bonding is not to be celebrated only in the course of a single day. This kind of welding, this kind of melting and moulding, needs to take place in every single one of the days ahead. As the second reading reminds us, each of us needs to lead a life worthy of our vocation, our calling. This applies especially to Raymond and Grace surely. But also to each of the rest of us. We need to do all we can to preserve the unity of the Spirit by the peace that binds us together. And, for us who are Christian, we do this by continually remaining in the fire of love poured out upon us in the sacrifice of Jesus Christ our Lord. A love that moves us to continue caring and sharing. To continue being patient and kind. To continue allowing ourselves to be melted and moulded. To continue having our ego-boundaries blurred. Even long after the festivities and excitement of the wedding day have passed.

Melting and moulding brought on by fire. This is what we are gathered here to celebrate today. The welding together of human hearts. The bonding of separate lives. The joining of disconnected selves. Raymond and Grace, my dear friends, even as we rejoice in the marvellous love that has brought us together on this beautiful wedding day, what can we do to remain in its unifying and reconciling, its melting and moulding, fire in the days ahead?

2013-04-20T21:58:00.002+08:00

4th Sunday in Easter (C)
Vocation Sunday
Shepherd & Stylist (Version 2)

Readings: Acts 13:14, 43-52; Psalms 100:1-2, 3, 5; Revelations 7:9, 14b-17; John 10:27-30

Picture: cc emrank

Dear sisters and brothers, do you have a regular hairstylist? How do you go about choosing one? The story is told of a tourist passing through a small town, who decided that he needed a haircut. After walking around a bit, he discovered that the town had only two barbers, each of whom ran his own shop. The two barbershops were located directly across the street from each other. As the tourist walked by, he saw that the shop on the left was very messy. There was hair all over the floor. And not only did the barber look extremely harassed, he also had a very bad haircut. The shop on the right, however, was just the opposite. The place was neat and the floor spotless. The barber looked really cheerful and relaxed. He also sported a very stylish looking hairdo. After observing all this, the tourist quickly made up his mind. He walked into the shop on the left. The messy one.

Sisters and brothers, why do you think he did that? If you were in his shoes, would you have done the same? To be honest, I would probably have gone into the other shop instead. And the reason is that, in making my decision, I would have been listening to a voice in my head telling me that a good barber should have a cool haircut and a clean shop. But our tourist was listening to some other voice. One that told him something different. For one thing, if the barber on the left looked harassed and his shop was dirty, it might well be because he had many customers. Which would be, of course, a sign that he did good work. Also, assuming that barbers don’t cut their own hair, and bearing in mind that there were only two barbers in town, it was very likely that these men cut each other’s hair. Which meant that their hairstyles were an indication not of their own skills, but those of their competitor’s.

All of which goes to show that when you are choosing a barber, it’s very important to examine your assumptions. To pay careful attention to the voices you are listening to in making your choice. And if this is true of choosing someone to style your hair, isn’t it even more true if you are choosing someone to shape your life? Today, perhaps more than ever before, many of us enjoy a wide range of lifestyle choices. But how do we going about making up our minds? What voices do we listen to? Which life-stylist do we end up choosing?

These are among the questions that our readings invite us to ask ourselves on this Vocation Sunday. For what is Jesus doing in the gospel today, if not presenting himself to us as the best life-stylist we can ever hope to have? Even more than a comfortable lifestyle, to all who choose to follow him, to all who allow him to shepherd them, Jesus promises nothing less than eternal life. He promises that those who follow him will never be lost. This, of course, sounds very attractive. But there is also something deeply shocking. Even more shocking perhaps than a good hairstylist sporting a very bad haircut.

What image comes to your mind when you think of a good shepherd? For the people of Jesus’ time, shepherd was a word that they used to refer to their king. And the greatest of all their kings was, of course, David, who though he was small in size, proved himself strong enough to slay the fearsome giant, Goliath. For the Jews, to be a shepherd was to be a great king. A mighty warrior. But look at the image given to us in the second reading today. Here, we find ourselves in the throne room of a great king. A shepherd who will lead us to springs of living water. Someone through whom God will wipe away all tears from our eyes. But notice also what this shepherd king looks like. Even more shocking than a messy barber with a bad haircut, here we find a shepherd who has become a sheep. And not just any sheep, but a lamb – the weakest and smallest of sheep. And not just any lamb, but a lamb that has been slain. Whose blood has been shed for the life of his sheep. If this image doesn’t unsettle us, it’s probably because we have grown too familiar with it. We’ve forgotten what it means to follow a shepherd who is also a slaughtered lamb.

Which is why the experiences of Paul and Barnabas in the first reading are so helpful. They show us that to follow this shepherd, who is also a lamb, we the sheep must be willing to become shepherds ourselves. For it is as shepherds that Paul and Barnabas travel from place to place, proclaiming the Good News to all. The first reading also reminds us that those who adopt this lifestyle will have to face and to accept trials. Even persecutions. Although Paul and Barnabas succeed in inspiring many to accept Jesus, their popularity incites jealousy and anger. Resulting in their being expelled from the city.

But if this lifestyle is so shockingly unattractive, how do we bring ourselves to choose it? Like that tourist looking for a haircut, the choice we end up making depends upon the voices that we pay attention to. In our world today, there are many voices that tell us how foolish it is to follow the Good Shepherd. Consider, for example, the voice of consumerism. Without our realising it, this voice often leads us to assume that happiness is measured only by the things we own. Or by the status we attain in society. If you live in public housing, work towards owning private property. If you have a Toyota, work for a Lexus. If you have a Timex, work for a Rolex. In contrast, in the gospel, Jesus says: the sheep that belong to me listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. And this voice of the Good Shepherd speaks to us not of constant consumption but of care and compassion. The same care that made Paul and Barnabas such courageous shepherds. The same compassion that turned Jesus into the Lamb of God. The one slain for our salvation.

Sisters and brothers, today is Vocations Sunday. The day when we pray especially for more good vocations to the priesthood and the religious life. And that is, of course, a very praiseworthy thing to do. But isn’t it true that, as much as we may pray for others to find their vocations, we also need to remember that each of us has a vocation of our own? The word vocation comes from the Latin vocare, which means to call. And it is not just priests and religious who are called. Rather, whether we are married or single, young or old, male or female, by the very fact of our baptism, we are all called to heed the voice of the Good Shepherd. The same voice that continually speaks to us of the importance of care and compassion. The voice that constantly challenges us to reach out and to shepherd others. Especially those most in need of our help.

Sisters and brothers, on this Vocations Sunday, whose voice are we hearing? Which life-stylist are we choosing today?