My dear brothers and sisters, today's readings remind us of that hearing something and listening to it are two different things. Let's explore them further. In today's First Reading, part of Isaiah's prophecy of the Suffering Servant, Our Lord reminds us that sometimes he needs to open our ears, just like he did to Peter in the Gospel today.

Sometimes, we can take that for granted, and if we don't put it into action, we soon stop listening to God's Word in our lives, and instead, it becomes just more noise in our ears. The Suffering Servant takes the blows received for serving God, knowing that God is on his side and that his service has a more significant meaning.

He doesn't complain or give God a hard time about his suffering to fulfill his mission because he knows the Lord is at his side. Our Lord also teaches his disciples in the Gospel today that the prophecy of the Suffering Servant refers to him. Suffering is part of the Christian life, and suffering leads to salvation.

In today's Second Reading, St. James underscores the inseparable connection between faith and work. They demonstrate that we have not merely heard Our Lord's word but truly listened. The Word of God calls for repentance, baptism, and action. As St. James reiterates today, listening to God's Word propels us into action. If we remain passive, merely hearing God's word, our faith will remain weak and fail to transform our lives or the lives of others. When our works mirror our faith, it is a testament that we are truly listening.

In today's Gospel, Our Lord gives the disciples a pop quiz to test their level of active listening. Peter, known for his outspoken nature, promptly answers Jesus' question: you are the Christ. Peter has indeed listened to the first part of the message. The disciples have taken a step closer to Our Lord; they've been active and listening, drawing them closer. In contrast, the crowd, while present, hasn't made an effort to draw closer to Jesus. They've merely 'heard' things about him and are curious, but their level of active listening is lacking.

Jesus' disciples have passed the first test, and Our Lord opens his heart to them and explains how salvation will work. It was time for another lesson. Our Lord is the fulfillment of all the prophecies of the coming of the Messiah, and he reveals to his disciples something the Jews would never have imagined just by reading the Old Testament: the Messiah had to suffer and die to save the world.

St. Peter's response to this revelation stirs up our hearts to one degree or another when the Lord opens our ears, and we listen to him. Peter couldn't imagine that Jesus could do anything other than become a great military and political ruler. He was hearing but still needed to do a little more listening to Our Lord.

After Our Lord saw his disciples believe he was the Messiah, he opened his heart to them, and St. Peter spoke a little for all of them and said the Messiah didn't act like Jesus said he would. Therefore, the disciples failed the second test. God had opened their ears, like the Suffering Servant in the First Reading, but, unlike the First Reading, they were rebelling about what they were hearing. This failure to fully listen to Jesus led to their misunderstanding of his true mission and teachings.

Jesus knew that this lesson, the lesson of the cross, was the most crucial lesson of Christian life. It's an important lesson that Jesus says something shocking to Peter when he tries to convince him not to take the path of suffering and the cross. He tells him he thinks as men do, not as God does, and tells him he is like Satan: that little whisper in our ears that tells us that life should be lived without suffering, without crosses.

Jesus backs up his lesson about the cross with a promise: whoever loses their life for Him and the Gospel will save it. Everything we sacrifice in this world, big and small, will lead us to a fuller and more fulfilling life.

Hearing Is Different from Listening. Listen Up!

Listening and hearing are two different things. Hearing means something within earshot is buzzing in our ears. Listening means cocking our head, trying to get your ear a little closer, trying to understand what you're hearing. Hearing is something passive—the noise pops into your ears. Listening is something active—it requires a decision on our part. We've all received our faith as a gift—by revealing Himself to us, the Lord has opened our ears to hear and listen to His Word.

Our ears have been opened, too. When we listen, the blows of day-to-day life come, some big, some minor, but Our Lord teaches us how to face them. We must have the same attitude as Our Lord: We must not rebel or turn our backs on God or his will. We must continue to have faith and trust that he is at our side and asking us to take on these sufferings for the greater good.

Don't Nurse a Grudge, Foster a Reconciliation

Isaiah's prophecy in today's First Reading also serves as a gentle nudge, reminding us of the importance of forgiving our neighbor's injustices. If we allow ourselves to be consumed by sinful wrath, it will lead to our condemnation. We have all experienced the temptation to nurse a grudge against someone and to be too angry to forgive.

As we nurse a grudge, we stop listening to our better judgment or the counsel of friends and family who are not fuming. Our anger drowns out good advice. Let's not forget that Cain heard the Lord but stopped listening to him when he slew Abel (see Genesis 4:1-10). 

Jesus chose 12 men to be apostles. After Jesus' ascension, the apostles had the critical mission of spreading the news about Jesus. The apostles then chose a new Church leader to be a witness to Jesus Christ and continue his work. The pope and bishops, esteemed successors to the apostles, have been called and decided to continue Jesus' work.

The Sacrament of Holy Orders stands apart as the sacrament through which the mission entrusted by Christ to his apostles is perpetuated in the Church until the end of time. It is a sacrament of apostolic ministry, unique in its role and significance. This sacred sacrament is structured into three distinct degrees: episcopate (bishop), presbyterate (priest), and diaconate (deacon).

While all members of the Church partake in the priesthood of all believers through Baptism, there exists a fundamental difference between this common priesthood and the ministerial priesthood. The ministerial priesthood, in its essence, bestows a sacred power for the service of the faithful, setting it apart from the common priesthood of the faithful.

However, some men are called to serve Jesus and the Church today by celebrating the Sacrament of Holy Orders. Through their leadership in the Church, they help continue Jesus' presence on earth in the tradition of the apostles. The ordained ministers exercise their service for the People of God by teaching (munus docendi), divine worship (munus liturgicum), and pastoral governance (munus regendi). (Catechism of the Catholic Church, #1592)

Those who are called to be priests are ordained through the Rite of Ordination. In celebrating this Rite, men receive a permanent spiritual mark, called a character, signifying that they represent Jesus' presence in the Church. There are three levels of participation in the Sacrament of Holy Orders: bishop, priest (from presbyter, which is Greek for "elder"), and deacon.

A bishop receives the fullness of the Sacrament of Holy Orders. He is the head or Ordinary of the local Church. The local area entrusted to him is called a diocese. A bishop is also a member of the episcopal college: all the bishops who, with the pope, guide the Church.

Priests serve the community in various ways. They may be called to serve in their dioceses or as religious order priests, carrying out the mission of a particular religious community. They preside at liturgies, preach, administer the sacraments, counsel people, serve as pastors, and teach.

Deacons help and serve bishops by serving the Church's needs, proclaiming the gospel, teaching and preaching, baptizing, witnessing marriages, and assisting the priest celebrant at liturgies. Deacons are ordained for service in the Church. Some are studying to become priests, and others, including married men, are called to remain deacons for life and serve the Church in this capacity, a testament to their unwavering dedication.

Priests receive the Sacrament of Holy Orders in the Rite of Ordination. The bishop lays his hands on the candidate's head and says a prayer, asking for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. In one part of the Rite, the candidate lies before the altar while the Litany of the Saints is sung or recited. A priest's hands are anointed with chrism in another part of the Rite. The new bishop's head is anointed in the Rite for a bishop.

Ordination to the priesthood is always a call and a gift from God. Christ reminded his Apostles that they needed to ask the Lord of the harvest to send laborers into the harvest. Those seeking priesthood respond generously to God's call using the prophet's words, "Here I am, send me" (Is 6:8). 

My dear brothers and sisters, one absolutely unique doctrine of our Catholic faith is the incarnation. The incarnation is the doctrine that God, in order to redeem the fallen world, became man. Jesus Christ is, as we profess every week in the Creed, true man, and also true God.

He is the son of Mary, and also the eternal Son of God. Before that amazing day two thousand years ago when the Archangel Gabriel visited the Blessed Virgin Mary and she conceived of the Holy Spirit, God was far away. He governed the universe and watched over the human family, but he did it from a distance, so to speak.

Certainly, he sent prophets to Israel and provided special guidance to his Chosen People of the Old Testament. But when the Second Person of the Holy Trinity became man in the womb of the Virgin Mary, a whole new era began. That's why we date human history according to two different standards: BC and AD. BC was before Christ; AD is "anno Domini," from the year of Our Lord, the year in which God came to dwell among us. God became actively present inside his own creation.

Even the old myths about gods interacting with men never conceived of the possibility that the one true God, Creator of all things, would love us so much that he would actually become incarnate, become one of us. That God would take a deaf-mute by the hand, lead him away from the crowds, touch him on the tongue and ears, and - in such a human, physical way - cure him, thus fulfilling the wonderful prophecies that we heard in the First Reading. That God himself would get dirty in order to make us clean: this is Christianity; this is a uniquely and marvellously Catholic view of God.

The Flowing Testimony of St. Januarius

The lives of the saints are full of similar signs, remarkable events that remind us of God's active, personal presence in the world and his active, personal interest in our lives. Later this month, we will celebrate the memorial of St Januarius, whose history gives a double reinforcement to this beautiful truth of our faith.

He was a bishop in southern Italy, in a city called Benevento, and was martyred along with seven companions in the year 302. The holy bishop risked his life to visit and encourage his fellow Christians who had been imprisoned for their faith at the start of the Emperor Diocletian's vast and violent persecution.

He was spotted, reported, and apprehended. He was interrogated, tortured, humiliated, and then thrown in prison with the rest. They were all condemned as enemies of the state (they wouldn't worship the Roman gods) and sentenced to be torn to pieces by wild beasts.

They accepted their sentence and stayed firm in their faith. When the animals were let into the arena, much to the shock and disappointment of the crowd who had gathered to enjoy the spectacle, the beasts sat calmly on their haunches, entirely uninterested in the free lunch. The guards were unable to stimulate their appetite; finally, the governor had to have the saints beheaded.

It seems that some of the bishop's blood was preserved as a relic by the local Christians. That very blood, still preserved in a coagulated state in a transparent reliquary, liquefies each year on his feast day. It has done so at least for the last 500 years (the recorded history of the miracle).

Januarius's faithfulness under fire was the first sign that God was with him, and the yearly liquefaction is, as it were, is an annual reminder of the supernatural source of his courage. It's as if God is determined not to let us forget about his tireless action in the world.

Renewing Our Hope

This is why we can be certain that discouragement never comes from the Holy Spirit: for the Catholic, hope is not a dream, but a reality. This is relevant to our lives especially in two ways. First, in regard to our own interior struggles.

Often, we seem to be stuck in our spiritual lives, unable to advance, incapable of overcoming certain defects or - sinful habits. Sometimes we allow this difficulty to morph into discouragement. That's exactly what the devil wants, because discouragement leads us to slack off in our efforts to follow Christ, to practice self-discipline, and to live a vibrant life of prayer.

That's when the devil can make a bold move on us, luring us into a sinful relationship or activity that actually obstructs the flow of God's grace in and through our lives. That's why when we hear discouragement knocking at the door, or when we seem to have reached a spiritual plateau, we need to let Christ take us "off by ourselves away from the crowd" to renew our interior hearing. This can mean going on retreat, or simply taking some extra -quiet time to be with the Lord.

Second, God's active and determined presence in the world gives us unbounded hope for others. No soul is too hardened to be transformed by Christ's love and forgiveness. The greatest sinners often make the greatest saints. Though someone appears deaf to the Word of Life and unable to respond to the invitations of the Holy Spirit, our confidence must never be shaken, for Jesus "makes the deaf hear and the dumb speak."

As we continue with this Mass, let's renew our confidence in this incarnate God who is so active in the world, letting him touch our wounded hearts, and praying for those who no longer pray for themselves.

Sacred Scripture begins with the creation and union of man and woman and ends with "the wedding feast of the Lamb" (Rev 19:7, 9). Scripture often refers to marriage, its origin and purpose, the meaning God gave to it, and its renewal in the covenant made by Jesus with his Church. Man and woman were created for each other.

Sacred Scripture and the teaching of the Church confirm these truths about marriage and deepen them. Genesis 1:27 shows us that the human person's complementarity as male and female reflects the image of God. A man "leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, and the two of them become one flesh" (Gn 2:23). The man joyfully recognizes the woman as "bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh" (Gn 2:23). God blesses the man and woman and commands them to "be fertile and multiply" (Gn 1:28). Jesus echoes these teachings from Genesis when he stated: "…from the beginning the Creator 'made them male and female' and said, for this reason a man shall leave … and the two shall become one flesh" (Matt. 19: 4,5).

These Biblical passages help us to under- stand God's plan for marriage. Marriage is a basic way of giving and growing in love and together attaining salvation. We are not meant to live in isolation, but to find and fulfil ourselves through the love of others. (Gen 2:18, 21-25). The marriage covenant, through which a man and a woman form with each other an intimate communion of life and love, is ordered to the good of the couple as well as to the generation and education of children.

Moreover, the Church, following the Apostle Paul, declares a valid marriage between baptized believers to be a sacrament — a saving reality and path to holiness. In Ephesians 5: 25-33, Paul teaches that Christ made marriage a sign of His love for the Church. This means that a sacramental marriage lets the world see, in human terms, something of the faithful, creative, self-emptying, abundantly life-giving love of our Lord. This Christian meaning confirms and strengthens the human value of a marital union. The sacrament of matrimony perfects the human love of spouses, strengthens their indissoluble unity and sanctifies them on the way to eternal life.

Marriage is based on the free consent of the man and the woman celebrating the sacrament. The parties entering into the covenant of matrimony must want to give themselves to each other, mutually and definitively, in order to live a covenant of faithful and fruitful love. The sacrament of Matrimony establishes the couple in a public state of life in the Church. Because of its public and ecclesial nature, it is fitting that the celebration of the sacrament be public and within the framework of a liturgical celebration, before a priest (or a witness authorised by the Church), the witnesses and the assembly of the faithful. Unity, indissolubility and openness to fertility are essential to marriage. By its very nature, marriage and married love is ordered to the procreation and education of the offspring. Spouses to whom God has not granted children can nevertheless have a married life full of meaning, in both human and Christian terms. The marriage of such couples can manifest the fruitfulness of hospitality and of sacrifice.

By their marriage, the couple witnesses Christ's spousal love for the Church. One of the Nuptial Blessings in the liturgical celebration of marriage refers to this in saying, "Father, you have made the union of man and wife so holy a mystery that it symbolizes the marriage of Christ and his Church."

The Sacrament of Marriage is a covenant, which is more than a contract. Covenant always expresses a relationship between persons. The marriage covenant refers to the relationship between the husband and wife, a permanent union of persons capable of knowing and loving each other and God. 

My dear brothers and sisters, today we are presented with a profound, disturbing mystery. Through his Gospel St John tells us that our Lord's teaching about the Eucharist, which we have been following over the last few Sundays, was so difficult, so shocking, that "many of his disciples" simply refused to accept it. As a result, they stopped following Jesus and returned to "their former way of life."

Picture the scene. A large crowd of people surrounds our Lord in the synagogue of Capernaum. Many of them witnessed the incredible miracle of the multiplication of the loaves just the day before. And yet, when he tells them about the Eucharist, about his plan to become truly present under the appearances of bread and wine so that his divine life will become our nourishment, they turn their backs on him. God's creatures turn their backs on their Creator.

We can only imagine how painful that was for him. And so, he looks at his closest disciples, the Twelve, the ones he has chosen to become the foundation stones of his Church. He doesn't offer some kind of watered-down explanation of the Eucharist to convince them to stick around. He simply asks them: "Do you also want to leave?"

It was a moment of crisis. The Twelve didn't understand, rationally speaking, the mysterious doctrine of the Eucharist any more completely than everybody else. So why did they continue to follow the Lord? Because they trusted in him, in his person. They put more faith in the person of Jesus Christ, the Lord, than in their own limited ability to understand God.

And that was a wise thing to do. By consciously exercising their faith amid that crisis, and not just depending on their own limited, error-prone understanding, they lifted their spiritual maturity to a whole new level.

The Pact of Shechem

Testing doesn't always come in ways that we expect. We tend to think of difficulties, injustices, struggles, and suffering as the usual challenges to our faith. But sometimes success and prosperity can be equally challenging.

That's what happened to Joshua and the people of Israel in today's First Reading. This passage from the Book of Joshua is part of what is known as the Pact of Shechem. Shechem was centrally located in Palestine, and therefore a good meeting place for the different tribes. It also had religious significance. Abraham had built an altar there, and Jacob had bought land there and buried some left-over Mesopotamian idols there.

When Joshua called the tribes together at Shechem, therefore, it was an important event. It took place at the end of Joshua's long and successful career as Israel's leader. Joshua had taken over after the death of Moses, leading the people into the Promised Land and then masterminding their conquest of that land. Under his rule, Israel had experienced political, economic, and cultural prosperity and success.

And yet, as he feels death coming on, Joshua considers it necessary to call a gathering of all the tribes. And at that gathering he challenges them to consciously renew their commitment to God. He knows that prosperity can breed arrogance and laziness. He knows that the idol worship of the nations they had conquered, the nations they now inhabit, was still seductive. He recognizes that if the Israelites are going to keep their faith alive and strong in this new chapter of their history, they need to make a firm, conscious renewal of their most deeply held convictions.

In our lives too, when all is going well and smoothly, we need to make our own pact of Shechem, reaffirming our commitment to serve Christ, not just to seek success and comfort.

Getting to Know Christ Increases Our Faith

When faith grows in the heart of a Christian, a lot of other virtues start growing too: wisdom, courage, humility, hope, and Christ-like love. If we want to grow in these virtues, our faith must become more conscious, more mature. But how can we help that to happen?

The same way that Peter and the other Apostles did. This moment of crisis occurred after they had been living and traveling with Jesus for two years. During that time, they had gotten to know Jesus in a personal way. The Lord was not distant or abstract; the Lord was their companion, leader, and friend; they had a personal relationship with him. And so, when the moment of crisis came, the moment in which their faith was challenged, they were ready to respond. Even when they couldn't see the whole picture themselves, they believed that Jesus could, and they knew that Jesus, the good shepherd, the "Holy One of God," would guide them well.

Sooner or later, every Catholic faces a religious crisis, a situation in which our faith is challenged, in which we don't understand fully why God does what he does or asks what he asks. That is the moment when we can rise to a new level of spiritual maturity. But only if we have been nourishing our faith by getting to know Jesus Christ, the person, through a conscious life of prayer and sacramental life.

If our Catholic faith has been reduced to following a list of rules and routines, it will be much harder to survive and thrive in those moments of testing. Certainly, God will never give up on us, but unless we have a real relationship with him, we may end up giving up on him. And there is no greater tragedy in life than that.

In this Mass, our Lord is asking us what he asked the Twelve: "Do you also want to leave... as so many others have done?" We don't; we believe in the One who died for us; let's tell him so right now, and let's show him so all week long. 

The East Hong Kong Deanery is scheduled to hold five performances of the 2024 Mission Festival musical evangelization play "Hope of Life" (in Cantonese) from October 18-20 at the Caritas Center Auditorium on Caine Road. This event aims to raise funds for the Diocese's church building and development foundation. Tickets will go on sale starting the fourth Sunday of this month. Please watch Bishop Ha Chi-shing's appeal below.

港島東總鐸區定於10月18-20日假堅道明愛中心禮堂舉行五場2024傳教節音樂福傳劇「生命的希望」，並藉此活動為教區籌募建堂及發展基金會籌募經費，將於本月第四個主日開始售票。以下請收看夏志誠主教的呼籲

The link for video download: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1ved10rJ2gHFlzAaAlOI9lpwpzLsnzeuj/view?usp=drive_link

Introduction

My dear brothers and sisters, we just heard a passage from the Gospel of John, which is strange, in a sense. It's strange because this year is the second year of the three-year cycle of liturgical readings - Year B. As you know, ever since the Second Vatican Council, the Church has been following this three-year cycle of Sunday readings. Before the Council, the Church followed a one-year cycle.

The three-year cycle was designed to give us more exposure to the vast riches contained in the sacred scriptures. During each of the three years, the Sunday Gospels focus on one evangelist. Year A gives us readings from St. Matthew's Gospel, Year C gives us readings from St Luke, and Year B, this year, gives us readings from St Mark. But this week we have begun making our way through the sixth chapter of St John's Gospel - why is that? The reason is pretty simple. St Mark's Gospel is the shortest of the four Gospels.

So, we needed to fill in some weeks to make it all the way through the long season of Ordinary Time. And since St John's Gospel doesn't have its own year (we usually read through it during the intense liturgical seasons like Christmas and Easter), this created a perfect opportunity to spend a few weeks to go through this crucial chapter.

And so, for the next four weeks, we will have a chance to reflect on the lessons it contains. This is especially important lessons, because John Chapter 6 is all about the Eucharist, and the Eucharist is, as the Catechism teaches, us "the source and summit of the Christian life" (Catechism #1324).

That's a serious claim, and we would we wise to learn more about it. In today's miraculous multiplication of the loaves, Jesus teaches us two critical things about this most Blessed Sacrament.

Part I: The Eucharist Was Christ's Idea

The first critical thing is that it was his idea. Some critics of the Catholic Church argue that the central role of the Eucharist in Church life was a later invention. They say that as Church bureaucracy grew through the centuries, it invented devotion to the Eucharist as a way to give more power to the priests.

It is true that our understanding of the meaning of the Eucharist has increased as the centuries have passed. And it is true that practices like adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and solemn benediction were developed only as the centuries moved along.

But it is not true that the fact of the Eucharist itself was a "later invention." It was Christ's own idea. This will become clearer and clearer as we make our way through Chapter 6 of St John's Gospel - in fact, you may want to read through the whole chapter at home today, looking for clues that the Eucharist was the Lord's idea; you'll find plenty. But even before he starts talking about the Eucharist, we can see him preparing for it.

Notice, for example, how closely this multiplication of the loaves resembles the Mass, which is the perpetual celebration of the Eucharist. First of all, St. John tells us that "the Jewish feast of the Passover was near," and we know that on the feast of Passover, during the Last Supper, Jesus instituted the sacrament of the Eucharist. Then St. John explains that a large crowd was gathering around Jesus, because they had seen his signs of healing.

Well, only baptized Catholics can receive the Eucharist, because they have been previously freed from original sin by the sacrament of baptism, a sign of spiritual healing. And then some people from the crowd bring a few offerings to Jesus - the loaves and fish, just like our offertory after the Creed. And what did Jesus do? He "gave thanks" and then "distributed" the food. 

This mirrors perfectly the second half of Mass. In the Eucharistic prayer the priest gives thanks to God on behalf of the congregation, and then he distributes Holy Communion. And to top it all off, St John specifies that there were basketfuls of bread and fish leftover, and Jesus instructed his apostles to gather them together and preserve them.

That's exactly what we do with the hosts that remain after Communion; we gather them in the ciboria and reserve them in the tabernacle. All of this is no accident. Jesus is not just giving the crowds a free lunch to show them God's generosity and concern; he is also getting them ready to understand his coming discourse about the Eucharist.

This mirrors perfectly the second half of Mass. In the Eucharistic prayer the priest gives thanks to God on behalf of the congregation, and then he distributes Holy Communion. And to top it all off, St John specifies that there were basketfuls of bread and fish leftover, and Jesus instructed his apostles to gather them together and preserve them.

That's exactly what we do with the hosts that remain after Communion; we gather them in the ciboria and reserve them in the tabernacle. All of this is no accident. Jesus is not just giving the crowds a free lunch to show them God's generosity and concern; he is also getting them ready to understand his coming discourse about the Eucharist.

Part II: We Really Need the Eucharist

The second critical thing that today's Gospel tells us about the Eucharist is that we really need it. The crowds following Jesus had no food. And the disciples had no money to buy food. The five loaves and two fish were simply not enough to do the job.

The apostles were at the end of their rope; they were helpless; they could do nothing to satisfy the needs of the people. Some sceptics argue that actually the people had plenty of food, but they didn't want to share it. And so, the critics say, the real miracle is that somehow Jesus, by sharing what he had, convinced them all to do the same thing.

But to reading this passage, and the parallel passages in the other Gospels, in that way is to do violence to the Bible - it's distorting the words of the text, not interpreting them.

The fact that Jesus really did multiply the bread is emphasized by today's First Reading, where the prophet Elisha performed a similar miracle for a hundred people. Only the power of God was sufficient to meet the needs described by these passages of the Bible.

It reminds us of another Old Testament passage where God's power had to intervene when he sent the Israelites manna in the desert. That too was a foreshadowing of the Eucharist, the true bread from heaven, as next week's Gospel passage will remind us. If Jesus hadn't intervened with his miracle, those people would have gone hungry; they needed bread, and only Jesus could give it to them. The same thing goes for us today.

To live the lives of wisdom, courage, hope, faith, and self-giving that we are called to live, in a sin-infected culture that is like a desert, void of all those virtues, we need God's help. And he gives it to us, by feeding us with his very own wisdom, faith, courage and strength, through the Eucharist.

Conclusion: Living Mass Deeply

Giving us the Eucharist, the supernatural nourishment of Christ's own body and blood, was God's idea. And he came up with this idea because he looked out at us, saw the depths of our hearts, and knew that we needed his help, his love, his grace.

Every Mass is a celebration of this great gift of the Eucharist. As we continue with this Mass, let's make an effort to live it deeply. And we can live it deeply, by paying attention to the sacred words of the liturgy, by stirring up sentiments of gratitude and faith in our hearts, and by remembering that we are not alone,that through this Mass we are connected to Catholics throughout the world and throughout history who have gathered around the same altar and received the same Holy Communion, obeying our Lords' command: "Do this in remembrance of me."

We recognize that the Sacraments have a visible and invisible reality, a reality open to all the human senses but grasped in its God-given depths with the eyes of faith. St Augustine, in the 5th century described a sacrament as 'an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace.' It sounds like a very simple answer, but, to understand the depth of what that means, we need to probe rather more deeply. When parents hug their children, for example, the visible reality we see is the hug. The invisible reality the hug conveys is love. We cannot "see" the love the hug expresses, though sometimes we can see its nurturing effect in the child.

My dear brothers and sisters, in this Sunday Gospel, St Mark gives us one of the most amazing phrases in his entire Gospel. "His heart was moved...". St. Mark told us this when Jesus gets off the boat and sees the crowd.

Jesus has a human heart - he took one on purpose: so that he could be close to us. He truly cares for us; he feels our needs and struggles even more deeply than we feel them ourselves. And he continually reaches out to be our leader, our light, and our strength.

When we accept these gifts, he is pleased, truly gratified. But when we reject them, he is hurt, truly stung by our ingratitude. This is the lesson of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, which has, through the centuries, confided its sorrows to certain chosen souls, like St Gertrude and St Margaret Mary Alacoque.

When we are dealing with Jesus Christ we are not dealing with an idea, a concept, a philosophical "unmoved mover," as Aristotle described God. In Christ, God has become man, someone just like us; in heaven, this very moment, he exists as a man, body and soul, and he is "preparing a place" for us in heaven (John 14:2).

Through the Holy Spirit and the Church, he extends his friendship to us, trying to draw us more fully into the indescribable joys of his own divine life, so that someday, when the time is right, we may enjoy that place he is preparing for us in heaven.

We all know this, but how deeply do we believe it? Not deeply enough, that's why the Church constantly reminds us that God urgently desires our friendship. Every human being desire to live in communion with God; only those who find Christ get to live out that communion in the form of a real, human friendship.

God Becomes a Shepherd

This is what God is talking about in today's First Reading. He's complaining about the priests and leaders of Israel in the Old Testament. Their whole mission, their whole purpose in life was to communicate to God's people this passionate, real interest that God has in our lives. But those priests and leaders were so self-centered that they failed in their mission.

They plundered and scandalized the people they were called to protect and serve. And it made God mad! "You have not cared for my sheep," he says: "but I will take care to punish your evil deeds." God is not indifferent to these self-centered priests, because he cares about his people.

He cares so much, in fact, that he finds a radical solution.

If he can't depend on these priests and leaders, who keep rebelling against him, he will do the job himself: "I myself will gather the remnants of my flock... I will raise up a righteous shoot to David, a king who will reign and govern wisely."

This is a prophecy about Jesus Christ - God himself come to dwell among us and reveal the incredible depths of God's mercy and concern for us. And then God goes on to promise that he will also appoint new shepherds who are dependable. These are the priests of the New Testament, charged with administering the sacraments.

Making Sure Others Don't Have to Fight Alone

As we continue with this Mass, our hearts should be strengthened by this reminder that Jesus hasn't abandoned us and will never abandon us. We are precious to him, his valued friends, his fellow soldiers. The battles that each one of us will have to fight this coming week, even if they seem small in the eyes of the world, are big in Christ's eyes. We matter to him, and because of that we will never have to fight alone.

But all around us there are doing just that. They are fighting to build a meaningful, fruitful life, but they are doing it alone, full of much more fear and frustration than we have to face.

They are sheep without a shepherd, and maybe they have even been wounded and frustrated by the mistakes of false shepherds. Who will lend them a hand of encouragement if not us, we who are constantly being encouraged by the eternal and infinitely wise shepherd?

Who will tell them about the Savior, the Friend who, as St Paul says in today's Second Reading, can "be their peace," if they will let him? Us: we are his messengers. If we keep the message to ourselves, we will be no better than the selfish shepherds from the First Reading.

In a few moments, Jesus will renew his commitment to us, feeding us with the bread of eternal life, the Eucharist. When we receive him into our hearts, let's thank him for his interest in us, and renew our pledge to stay always actively interested in him and in building his kingdom.

Even if these priests fall into selfishness, mediocrity, or even sinful rebellion, the sacraments will still stand. Even if a New Testament priest is in mortal sin, God still sends his grace to this people through the sacraments that that priest celebrates. As Pope Benedict XVI put it: "the efficacy of the ministry is independent of the holiness of the minister" (Letter to Priests, 16 June 2009).

Of course, that's no excuse for us priests to be mediocre and sinful, but God's faithfulness doesn't depend on our faithfulness. So, despite themselves, priests of Jesus Christ are, through God's providence and power, dependable channels through which God continues to pour out his saving grace. That's how much he cares about us. 

Introduction

My dear brothers and sisters, St Peter, at the end of his Second Letter to all Christians, which is found towards the end of our New Testament, says something about St Paul's New Testament letters. He says that some passages in those letters are "hard to understand" (2 Peter 3:16). The section from the Letter to the Ephesians that we listened to is one of those passages.

In the Greek original, those 14 verses, which are so long, complicated, and overflowing with deep theological terms and phrases, are all one, single sentence. What was Paul thinking? Why would he write such a dense beginning? Did he want the Christians in Ephesus to have trouble understanding him? Not exactly.

The beginning of this letter isn't meant to be clear explanation of doctrine. Rather, it's more like a hymn of praise to God for his wonderful goodness. Paul doesn't explain God's loving plan of salvation in these lines; he proclaims it, and he proclaims it with awe, respect, and delight. But for that very reason, it is worth a closer look - just as it's worth looking carefully through a treasure chest even when all the gold and jewels are piled all together instead of neatly arranged.

And when we do take a closer look, we find one key idea that gives a certain unity to everything else - the idea of God's choice. Twice in these 14 verses, Paul mentions that we have been chosen by God in Christ. This is what really amazes him, for three reasons: the fact of God's choice, the bounty of God's choice, and the purpose of God's choice.

Part I: The Fact of God's Choice

The simple fact that God chooses us is the first thing that amazes Paul. As one commentator has put it: "It would not be so wonderful that man should choose God; the wonder is that God should choose man." After all, what does God have to gain from choosing us, from giving us the gifts of his grace and his very own divine life through the sacraments? He has nothing to gain; but we have everything to gain. Because God chose to create us, and then he chose to redeem us after we had rebelled against him, we have hope. The happiness that we long for, that we were created to enjoy, is a real possibility for us, because God hasn't given up on us; he has chosen to stick with us. He knows our names. There is a famous story about a peasant who lived in the French town of Ars back in the 1800s. This peasant was too old to work anymore, so he would come to the church every day and sit down in the front pew.

He would just sit there quietly, sometimes for hours on end. One day, the parish priest, who happened to be St John Vianney, whom the Church is celebrating in a special way during this Year for Priests, asked this peasant what he was doing. The peasant said that he was praying. So, then the priest asked him how he prayed. The peasant glanced at him and said: "I look at the Lord, and he looks at me." That God, our Creator, our Redeemer, the eternal, all-powerful, all-knowing Lord of the universe, who knows how sinful and rebellious we are - that he loves and cares for us so much that he wants to sit with us like that... This is the amazing fact of God's choice.

Part II: The Bounty of God's Choice

The second thing that amazed St Paul was the bounty of God's choice. When someone offends us, we consider ourselves big-hearted if we simply refrain from taking vengeance on them. But God went far beyond just tolerating us. St Paul describes the "inheritance... of glory" that God has chosen to offer us in Christ. God has begun preparing a room for us in his own heavenly mansion. He has chosen us not just to squeak into the last nose-bleed seats of the sold-out stadium, but to sit with him in the owner's box for all eternity. Imagine if a criminal attempted to murder a king. His attempt fails, and he is arrested and thrown in prison, down in the depths of the dungeon. He deserves his punishment. Most likely, he would be grateful just to still be alive.

Now imagine that the king shows up at the prison door, opens it, and walks into the cell. He tells the prisoner that he can go free. The prisoner is overjoyed and quickly leaves the prison cell, only to see the guard lock the door again, with the king still inside. The criminal is shocked, and the guard explains to him that the king took the punishment on himself so that he (the criminal) could go free and have a second chance at life. So then imagine that the grateful criminal climbs the slimy steps out of the dungeon. When he gets into the courtyard he is greeted by one of the king's officials. The official leads the criminal up to a beautiful rooftop apartment in the royal palace and gives him the key, saying: "The king has desired to give you these rooms as your own, and he has also named you a royal counsellor and with a lifetime salary and access to the whole royal palace." That would be a very generous king, to do so much for a criminal who had tried to murder him, but it is only a pale image of what God has done for us. By our sins, we have attempted to murder God, to banish him from our lives. And yet, through Christ's cross he has given us much, much more than any earthly king could ever even imagine this is the bounty of God's choice.

Part III: The Purpose of God's Choice

The third thing that amazed Paul about God's choice was its purpose. He writes that we have been chosen to be "holy and without blemish" in God's presence. The Greek word for "holy" is hagios; it means "set aside" from everyday things for a special function or mission.

A church, for example is a holy place, because it has an extraordinary role to play in the world. It is the place where the human and the divine come together though the sacraments. It is the place where earthly life is linked with heaven. Every Christian, according to St Paul, is like that; someone with an extraordinary role to play in the world, someone who brings earth and heaven together.

We are different; we have been set aside. We are not just passive wallflowers in God's Kingdom. No, he has come to dwell in our hearts and has invited us to be his warriors, his messengers, his ambassadors. We have been chosen to be holy; to be elite knights of Jesus Christ, angels of light and wisdom in this dark and foolish world. He didn't have to give us this mission, but he chose to, because he wanted to give our lives a meaning far beyond what we could have given it on our own. And secondly, he chose us to be "without blemish," amomos in the Greek. This is the word used to describe the animals that were used for religious sacrifice in the Old Testament. Only the best, only the most excellent animals were offered to God, because that's what God deserves. But here St Paul is saying that God is the one who makes us "without blemish." He is the one who makes us worthy of being his followers; he himself supplies what we need to become saints. It is his grace that purifies our hearts of greed, lust, laziness, dishonesty, and every form of selfishness. And it is his grace that fills us with wisdom, joy, courage, peace, and all the gifts of the Holy Spirit. This is the plan and purpose of his choice; this is why Jesus came to earth.

Conclusion: A Meeting of Choices

In this Mass, and especially through Holy Communion, Jesus will renew this beautiful choice that he has made of each one of us. He will come to each one of us individually, saying our name, pouring his royal treasure of grace into our hearts, and giving us the strength we need to be his faithful followers in the coming week. When he does, let's renew our choice of him, confident that he alone is more than enough to fill all our desires for meaning, forgiveness, happiness, and love. As we continue with this Mass by praying the Creed, let's pray it from the heart, re-affirming our belief in this amazing Lord who loves us so much that he died for our sins, and re-affirming our commitment to live as he would have us live. 

The Structure of The Divine Office or Liturgy of The Hours

Each 'Hour' (the name for the different prayer times) has a similar structure. There is an Introduction, a hymn, some psalms, a reading from Scripture, and some prayers, followed by a Dismissal. Over the course of two weeks, we pray all 150 psalms, nearly 40 of them every week.

Starting The Divine Office or Liturgy of The Hours

The first Office of the day starts with an Invitatory. This is Matins, except for Sunday, when we start the day with Lauds, because we pray Vigils on Saturday evening. The person leading the liturgy for the week, known as the Hebdom, says, 'O Lord, open my lips', and the others reply, 'And my mouth shall declare your praise'. All then say the Glory Be. The Hebdom then gives an antiphon, which the others repeat, and then the Hebdom recites a psalm, with the others repeating the antiphon at the end of each verse. As with all psalms, it ends with the Glory Be. The rest of the Hours start with an Introductory. The Hebdom says, 'O God, come to my assistance', and the others reply, 'O Lord, make haste to help me', followed by the Glory Be.

Matins or The Office of Readings

This is the first and longest of the liturgies. In the Roman Office it is called the Office of Readings. It starts with the Invitatory. After the Invitatory, we sing a hymn. Hymns and psalms are usually sung with one side of the choir singing one verse, and the other side singing the next. Following the hymn we chant three psalms. Someone then reads a passage from Scripture. This is a bit longer than readings at Mass and is arranged so that over a two-year cycle we read most of the Bible. After the reading there is silence for meditation on the reading. An important part of praying Scripture is silent meditation. After a pause to meditate on what has been read there is a responsory. This is followed by a second reading. The second reading is not from the Bible. Instead, it is usually taken from one of the early Church Fathers, often a commentary on the passage of Scripture in the first reading. On saints' days, the reading is either about the saint or from the saint's writings. Again, the reading is followed by silent prayer. After a pause to meditate on what has been read there is a responsory. Then the Hebdom says the Collect for the day, followed by 'Let us bless the Lord', to which the others reply, 'Thanks be to God'.

Lauds/Morning Prayer

Lauds, or Morning Prayer, starts with the Introductory, as described above. The Cantor starts to chant a hymn, appropriate to the day, saint or feast. After that we chant one psalm, a canticle (song) from the Old Testament or New Testament, then we chant other psalms all ending with the Glory Be. The Lector then reads a short passage of Scripture. After a pause to meditate on what has been read there is a responsory. This is a line sung by the cantor and repeated as a response by the rest of the others, followed by another line from the cantor and the others repeating the second half of the response, and then the cantor sings, 'Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit' and the others again repeat the response. Then we sing the Benedictus (Lk 1:68-79), also called the Gospel Canticle, ending with the Glory Be, after which the Hebdom reads the intercessions from the breviary. Next the Hebdom says, 'Our Father', and we all join in the prayer. Then the Hebdom reads the Collect for the day and gives the blessing.

Vespers/Evening Prayer

Vespers is similar to Lauds in its overall structure. Hebdom starts the Introductory. The Cantor starts to chant a hymn, followed by two psalms. Next is a canticle from the New Testament. The psalms and the canticle each end with Glory Be. After the psalmody we have a short Scripture reading, followed by a responsory. The Gospel Canticle for Vespers is the Magnificat (Lk 1:46-55), ending with the Glory Be. As with Lauds, the Gospel Canticle is followed by the intercessions. The Hebdom says 'Our Father', and the others join in. Then the Hebdom reads the concluding prayer. The dismissal is the same as for Lauds.

Compline/Night Prayer

The final Office of the day is Compline. This has very little variation from day to day, the only changes being the hymn, Scripture reading, and concluding prayer. After the Introductory by hebdom, followed by silence moment, a pause to reflect on the day, the Hebdom starts the penitential rite. Then comes the hymn, followed by one or two psalms.After the Scripture reading the responsory is, 'Into your hands, Lord, I commend my spirit', repeated by the others, 'You have redeemed us, Lord God of Truth', with the response, 'I commend my spirit', and the Glory Be with the full response. The Gospel Canticle for Compline is the Nunc Dimittis (Lk 2:29-32). Then follows the concluding prayer for the day and give the blessing.

God Permits Thorns for a Reason

My dear brothers and sisters, this lesson is based on the Second Reading of Sunday's reading. There we learn that St Paul was not perfect; in fact, no saint was perfect. St. Paul tries to tell us that all saints were human beings, just like us and had to face problems, hardship, suffering, and temptation, just as we do. They did not live carefree lives; in fact, it was their very challenges and failings that God used to make them into saints.

He says that although God has given him extraordinary mystical experiences, God has also given him a "thorn in his flesh, an angel of Satan to beat him." Paul prayed repeatedly for God to remove this thorn, but God refused, in order "to keep him from being too elated." 

My dear brothers and sisters, we live in the secularized world. The secular people don't often talk about the devil, and when we do, it's usually to make a joke. But Jesus didn't just make jokes about the devil.

In fact, the Bible tells us that undoing the devil's work was the primary reason Jesus came to earth in the first place: "This was the purpose of the appearing of the Son of God, to undo the work of the devil" (1 John 3:8). 

The Divine Office, also called the Liturgy of the Hours, the Opus Dei or, in English, the Work of God. Divine Office is the arrangement of psalms, Scripture, and prayer that monks and others use in order to pray constantly. St Paul urged the Thessalonians, 'pray constantly' (1 Th 5:17). Psalm 118 contains several references to prayer in the course of keeping God's Law. The psalmist says, 'At midnight I will rise and thank you' (Ps 118:62). He also says, ' I rise before dawn and cry for help' (Ps 118:147). Further on he says, 'Seven times a day I praise you' (Ps 118:164). This gives rise to the seven prayer sessions of the day. 

My dear brothers and sisters, may you have a question why did Jesus, who is God, and therefore all-powerful, allow himself to fall asleep just when things were getting really tough, really scary, for his followers? This is a question we all have to face sooner or later.

Maybe we won't be on a boat during a storm that threatens to sink us, but each one of us will run up against some kind of storm before we die. In fact, in this fallen world, it is safe to say that the storm is the norm. All of us have our own storm.

It may be the long and painful sickness of a loved one, the death of beloved child, damage caused by a family member's addictions and infidelities, the ravages of war, a debilitating natural disaster, financial ruin, or maybe just intense, heart-sickening loneliness.

Why does an all-powerful God go to sleep in our boats and let these storms rage against us? The Catechism tells us clearly that we will not understand God's ways fully until we meet him face to face on the other side of death. Here I quote the text from the Catechism no 324: "The fact that God permits physical and even moral evil is a mystery that God illuminates by his Son Jesus Christ who died and rose to vanquish evil. Faith gives us the certainty that God would not permit evil if he did not cause good to come from that very evil, in ways that we shall fully know only in eternal life." But we can understand God's ways partially, if we understand God's agenda for our lives. God's agenda for our brief journey through the earth isn't perfect comfort and unbroken pleasure. Rather, he wants us to achieve the wisdom, courage, joy, and inner balance of spiritual maturity. In other words, he wants us to get in shape for heaven.

And that involves learning to trust in him more than in ourselves, learning that we are not all-powerful. That's hard to learn, because it goes directly against the spiritual DNA we have all inherited from original sin. And so, sometimes, God goes to sleep in our boats and lets the storm rage, so that we will come to know and accept the reality of our limitations and the truth of our dependence on him.

Job Gets Schooled

Let us see the classic Old Testament example of someone having trouble accepting God's agenda. The story of Job. In the First Reading, we get an example of God's efforts to teach Job this invaluable lesson in wisdom. Job has been complaining about all the bad things that have been happening to him. And God answers by reminding him that the Lord is master even of those bad things, that he controls and limits them according to his omnipotent wisdom. The ocean, in the Old Testament, because of its mystery, power, and unpredictability, was often used as a symbol of evil and chaos. But God tells Job that he has "set limits for it, and fastened the bar of its door." God doesn't explain to Job all the reasons behind everything he does and permits.

He can't! How can we who are finite, limited creatures demand to understand all of the Creator's infinite wisdom with perfect clarity? And so instead of an exhaustive explanation, God simply reminds Job that he is all-powerful and that he will never abandon his children.

The Psalm takes up the same theme.

It poetically explains how God "calmed the storm to a gentle breeze" and brought the terrified sailors "to their desired haven", even when from a merely human perspective, everything seemed lost. And then the sailors "gave thanks to the Lord for his kindness and wonderful deeds." In other words, through the experience of their helplessness in the face of suffering they discovered more fully God's greatness and goodness. It was a necessary step towards their spiritual maturity. Of course, the greatest example of this is in Christ's own death and resurrection. God didn't will the sins that caused our Lord's immense, painful, and humiliating sufferings. But God's love was powerful enough to turn those hideous wounds into the doorway to heaven, and he can do the same for us - that's his agenda.

Prayer: Antidote to Modern Seductions

My dear brothers and sisters, let us learn how to accept our limitations and dependence on God. It's hard, especially in today's world, which is so technologically advanced that it tends to put an almost religious-quality faith in human potential. There are still some problems that we haven't yet solved, but this myth of scientific progress tries to convince us that it's only a matter of time until we solve them. Not so, not so: we cannot make heaven on earth; we cannot save ourselves. Remember the story of Job. Also, remember why Jesus came to be our Savior. Because we can't save ourselves. This deep religious faith in science is seductive for two reasons. First, because it's so popular in today's culture. It's built into advertising campaigns, movie screenplays, and television scripts. It's even the motivation behind activist groups that promote things like abortion and homosexual marriage.

They try to solve unwanted pregnancies and unwanted sexual orientations not by seeking God's help to follow God's design for human happiness, but by trying to redefine or re-engineer what it means to be a human being. Second, this faith in scientific progress is seductive because it flatters us, it tells what the devil told Adam and Eve: "You shall be like gods." But of course that's just as much a lie today as it was at the beginning of history. And so God continues to give us opportunities - storms - to learn to trust in him, to surrender to him our self-deification illusions. How can we take maximum advantage of these opportunities? The very best way is to learn to pray better. It was by going to Jesus, asleep in the back of the boat, that the Apostles discovered his greatness and survived the storm.

Prayer is how we go to Jesus.

Prayer is the school where we learn the beauty and wisdom behind God's agenda. Prayer is the gymnasium where we exercise and strengthen the faith that allows Jesus, the Prince of Peace, to become the Lord of lives not just in theory, but in practice.

Today, as Jesus renews his commitment to us in this Mass. let's ask him to be our strength amidst the storms of life, and let's promise that this week, we will renew our commitment to becoming experts in prayer.

Christ Sees the Church as a Kingdom, not as a Club

My dear brothers and sisters, Jesus Christ's favourite topic, it could be argued, was "the Kingdom of God." His first public sermon began with "The Kingdom of God is at hand," and from then on, he kept talking about it, as in today's Gospel. If there is a Kingdom, there must also be a King, and if there is a King, there must be subjects. That's how he sees the Church, as a Kingdom, not merely as some kind of club.

Today we can ask ourselves if that's how we see Church. When we pray, "Thy Kingdom come," do we mean the same thing that Jesus meant when he taught us that prayer? God's Kingdom is the realm where hearts obey him out of faith and love. 

The kingdom of this world is the realm where hearts obey themselves out of self-centeredness, egoism, and fear. If we really want to help Christ redeem the kingdom of this world by transforming it, through his grace, into the Kingdom of Christ, we have to keep hearkening to the King and carrying out his commands, even when they are uncomfortable for our selfish tendencies. Obeying someone else, though, is almost always a challenge for us sinners.