Year C / 17th Sunday / Ordinary Time /
Celebrating the Solemnity of St Ignatius of Loyola in St Ignatius Church, Singapore
Readings: Deuteronomy 30.1-14 / Ps 1 (R/v 39.5) / Galatians 5.16-25 / Luke 9.18-26
Have you ever made a trek through unfamiliar woodlands before?
Hiked through a national park overseas,
like the Marborough Sounds in New Zealand
or walked the Appalachian Trail along the eastern ridges of the USA?
May be, you have navigated your way
from Lim Chu Kang back to Pasir Laba
as part of your National Service training?
If you have done any of these,
you would have probably used a compass and a map.
A compass and a map to navigate,
to make sure you could find your way
through the twists and turns, the ups and downs,
of journeying
through uncharted lands or dark nights
to arrive safe and sound
at your hoped for destination.
As a people of faith,
we too are on a journey, a spiritual journey
Ours is a pilgrimage of life,
from the womb to the tomb.
Ours is a pilgrimage of faith,
from life on earth to eternal life with God.
Today, we celebrate the life of a fellow pilgrim,
Ignatius of Loyola, our patron saint.
One who has walked before us on this same journey.
Like him, our journeys are marked
by better days of walking close to Jesus.
And, if we are truly honest,
our journeys are also marked
by days when we are meandering and detouring
on our own self-centered routes,
far away from Jesus.
Sisters and brothers,
I’d like to propose Ignatius’ pilgrimage
for our contemplation this evening.
I'd like to propose it as an invitation for us
to consider our own pilgrimages of life and faith towards God.
What is a pilgrim?
One who is on her way to someplace else,
one on the move.
More importantly, a pilgrim
is one seeking something greater - seeking God.
Ignatius found his life's fulfillment
in seeking out and devoting himself
to following God's will in his life.
But how did he do this?
What compass and map did he have
to navigate his own journey of life and faith?
A story is told of Ignatius’ fondness
of looking at the stars each night before he slept.
He would go up on the roof of the house.
He would take his hat off and look up for a long time at the sky
He would sit there quietly, absolutely quietly.
Looking up,
at the wide, magical and heavenly expanse of the starry vault above him,
he would find himself sensing
that the God of heaven and earth is always with humankind.
Then he would fall on his knees,
bowing profoundly to God in thanksgiving.
In thanksgiving
for God’s fidelity to be with humankind still,
for forgiving us of our sins,
for loving us into fullness of life, again and again.
But the beauty of this story
is not in this moment.
Rather, it is to be found each morning
when Ignatius returned his gaze onto the world
and saw it in a new light, in a renewed way.
He saw all things
in God’s way,
in God’s light,
in God’s sight.
He would see amidst the drudgery of the everydayness of our world,
God’s faithful and abundant goodness
in everything, in every person, in every situation
as gifts for our wellbeing and happiness.
He would sense in our human struggle
with pain, suffering and sin,
God’s faithful compassion
that loves and provides for us
because we,
who are made in God’s image and likeness,
are good, very good indeed, for friendship with God.
He would marvel that in spite of our human limitations and finitude,
God keeps offering us infinite possibilities
to be transformed, to become more than we are,
to become a lot more human and a little more divine.
The compass and map Ignatius had to do this
was the person of Jesus.
In Jesus,
who revealed God’s presence in our human world,
through our human form and in our human voice,
Ignatius found a Christ-like way of seeing the world and
a Christ-like way of loving God and neighbor.
And, as Ignatius deepened his friendship with Jesus,
over the course of his lifetime,
he discovered who he was born to be
--- not just the founder of a worldwide religious order
doing much good,
or a master of the spiritual life,
or a soldier of God --
but, first and foremost,
a faithful pilgrim
called to be Jesus’ companion
in life and faith.
This truth of who Ignatius was as a pilgrim
is also be our hope-filled reality
as Christian pilgrims on the journey.
Jesus’ ways of living, praying and serving,
which was Ignatius’ compass and map,
can also be our compass and map.
‘Who do you say I am?’
Jesus asks his disciples in today’s gospel reading.
Jesus also once asked Ignatius the same question.
And today, he challenges you and me to answer this question.
Peter’s answer, ‘The Christ of God,’
is surely how most of us will respond.
However, we can only say this answer - with conviction -
when we are open to and prepared to put
all our trust in Jesus as our Lord.
When we dare to place our trust in Jesus,
we will find him to be the foundation of our happiness,
as the psalmist assures us today.
How so?
Because Jesus is a worthy compass and map for us,
or if you wish to update the technology, our GPS.
He is so because
with him,
we find the right and meaningful way to God:
in him,
we discover the truth of who God is
- always with us and for us on our pilgrimage,
and through him,
we can have and enjoy the fullness of life with God,
not as a future reward we have to work for,
but as the already given joy of resurrected life, here and now.
Here and now because like Ignatius,
we can let Jesus shape how we see the world
and how we ought to live in it.
With Jesus,
we can begin to see, like Ignatius,
the world afresh;
that is, our world is indeed charged with the grandeur of God,
as Gerard Manley Hopkins once described so poetically.
With Jesus,
we can then ask, like Ignatius,
the right questions to better attend to God calling
us to enter bravely
into the spaces of burden, hurt and despair
and to lift those suffering
with the good news of God’s saving love
With Jesus,
we can begin to respond, like Ignatius,
to the truth once again that our lives are meant for
something more, something better and something beautiful
than all the imperfections, pains and darknessese
that scar and stain our lives.
With Jesus, then,
sisters and brothers,
we can begin to live like Ignatius did:
looking heaven-ward at the end of each day,
each long, tiring and sometimes disappointing day
at work, in studies, in life,
to remember again the love of God,
so that in the morning
we can turn our gaze
onto the sometimes broken and smeared shards
of our daily lives
and there, there too find God
walking with us,
faithfully, constantly and joyfully.
Now, isn’t this hope
worth us joining Peter and Ignatius
to answer Jesus’ question,
Jesus who is our compass and map ,
by professing together that he is our Christ?
preached at St Ignatius Church, Singapore on the occasion of the parish feast day celebrations
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