As part of my
spiritual routine, I would take a portion of my time every day to contemplate
the day’s missal. So for this post, I decided to write down my thoughts on the
readings several weeks back on Monday, the 19th
week in Ordinary Time (readings were in the order of: Ezekiel 1:2-5,24-28; Psalm
148:1-2,11-14; and Matthew 17:22-27).
The setting
of the first reading took place several years after the fall of Jerusalem and the
Jewish exile to Babylon. Around this period, a priest named Ezekiel had a
vision in which he beheld the glory of God:
“Like the appearance of the bow that is in the cloud on the
day of rain, so was the appearance of the brightness round about. Such was the
appearance of the likeness of the glory of the Lord.”
(Ezekiel 2:28)
I would like
to stress that this took place in what can be considered as dark times, when
the Israelites were under Babylonian rule, and the former were given a
significant amount of time to chip away their hope of reclaiming their sovereignty.
Their Temple was ransacked, their identity was being destroyed, and the people
were scattered throughout the region.
Yet in these turbulent
circumstances, God chose to reveal Himself to a relatively insignificant priest
by a river in Chaldea. Not something he – or anyone – would have expected, what
more in a foreign land away from Holy City. Yet when
the will of men seem greatest, God’s glory glows in the backdrop, though
not everyone will be able to glimpse its flame behind the veil. Ultimately, His
glory will prevail; the curtain will be caught by an all-consuming fire: the
righteous faithful with fire the Holy Spirit, while the unrepentant to the fire
of Hell.
In the
opening lines of the day’s Gospel, Jesus informed His disciples that He would
be subjected to the powers of men and be put to death. His disciples were so
distraught, that to a man they seemed to overlook His immediate follow through,
“‘…He will be raised on the third day.’”
Often I
observe that people (myself included) focus on the events of the world, and how
corruption and evil seem to prevail. In fact, at one time I myself developed a
habit of inquiring who died the moment someone brought in a newspaper/newsfeed,
as death and disasters seem like a commonplace nowadays. I do not believe I am
the only one; it is difficult to remain optimistic
when the world seem to revel showering us with depressing news. Worse, we seem to embrace it – ask ourselves which
seem more likely to catch our eye: A donates $ amount to charity or B killed N
amount of people in a school? Which of the two are likely to be on mainstream
headlines?
Yet as
Christians we are called not to lose to hope but to keep faith. As our Lord
said in John 15:19, we do not belong to this
world – God picked us out specifically to be part of His flock. As such, though
the world may be in darkness, we carry within us a light that can illuminate
the world. For within us dwell the Holy Spirit, God’s very Person Himself, in
the temple of our bodies (1 Corinthians 6:19).
This theme of
God’s hidden glory in the world is also present in the second part of the
Gospel. The collectors of the Temple tax came to Peter, inquiring whether Jesus
had paid the half shekel, as was required by the Rabbis then. What they did not
realise was that they should be paying the tribute to Jesus Himself! They
intended to collect an earthly offering for the divine from
the One who is Divine, who came to and for the world. Even Peter, who had
earlier proclaimed Him as the Christ back in Matthew
16:16, did not fully grasp the significance and authority of Jesus from
his reply in Matthew 17:25. Unlike the man in Matthew 13:44, they did not recognise the hidden
treasure dug up in the field.
There is a
saying, “there is always a light at the end of the
tunnel.” This is especially meaningful in Christianity, whose faith
hinges on the hope of the second Coming of our Lord. Even in the darkest night,
the hidden stars never cease to shine above the clouds, and dawn never fails to
come after.
All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the
Ring
RFG always.
