End of Time

Matthew 25:1-13

“Stay awake for you do not know either the day or the hour.”

We seem to live in a dangerous and thrilling time. Prophets and pseudo-prophets are rereading the Bible, especially prophetic books like Daniel, or the Book of Revelation. Like the Y2K of some years ago, there has been (foolish) prophetic messages of the end of the world not once, not twice but hundreds of times. Some are wondering that we are still living in this world.

This has happened at other times too in history. We have a report of the Mass that Pope Sylvester II celebrated in the old Saint Peter’s Basilica in Rome at midnight December 31st of the year 999. The basilica was full. Some people had given everything they had to the poor just before Mass began. They were sitting in sackcloth and ashes in the church. Some of them didn’t even dare to look up at the moment of consecration. They were lying flat on the earth with their arms outstretched as on a cross. At the moment that the bells started to ring at midnight, some of those present died of pure fear. But when the tolling of the bells was over, and the earth didn’t open, and no fire came down from heaven, it was as if everyone woke up from a nightmare. Weeping and laughing, the crowd started to embrace each other, man and woman, friend and foe, master and servant, and the bells of all the churches in Rome started ringing.

Jesus asks us to be prepared. We should be as ready as the five sensible bridesmaids at the moment of the bridegroom’s arrival. We have to do some long-range planning for the coming of Jesus at the end of our own days, and even for his return at the apocalyptic end of human history. But, I would think it is even more important to do some short-range planning for the coming of Jesus in the “now” and “here” of our daily life. Don't be surprised when I say that the end of the world is not at your death or at the end of history, but it is "here" and "now." Or rather, our meeting of Jesus has to happen today, not at our deaths. As St Catherine of Siena would say, "It is heaven all the way to heaven, and it is hell all the way to hell." I need to live my union with God today in whatever situation I find myself. This earth perfectly hides heaven, but perfectly reveals it too. The present time hides heaven, but perfectly reveals it too. So why wait for the end of time! But stay awake now!

God is present to me fully today in my situation, even if it is a mess (as He will be present unfailingly after our physical deaths). But the real question is: Am I present to Him fully? Or do I present myself now and then just for the sake of convenience?

Awake

Matthew 24:42-51

“Blessed that servant if the master’s arrival finds her/him awake!”

She is an ordinary person. For some days in the week she takes care of the people in a presbytery. She takes care not only of the people, but also of the house, the plants, the cat, and those who ring the door-bell. Part of her time she cooks in a Franciscan community. When you see her she will always ask whether you would like a cup of coffee. She attends many of the liturgical services. She often acts as the sacristan, and when there is no Mass server she will do that too. She is a member of the Legion of Mary, a very active member who not only comes to the weekly meetings but also visits people in the neighborhood, and saves money to go on apostolic tours during her holidays. She doesn’t go as a tourist, but goes for apostolic reasons. Sitting in a park or at a station she will ask passersby whether they have ever heard the story of Jesus. Does people listen to her? “Oh, yes,” she says, “They do!”

The priest in the presbytery where she works says, “She is always doing something for God.” And she is! She is the kind of person Jesus would call “Blessed!” Not because of something that is going to happen to her afterward in the life to come, but she is blessed here and now. You can see it in the smile of her face and the way she asks you whether you are sure that you don’t want that cup of coffee. She is a person more awake than others, and that is how her Master will find her, we can be sure.

Yes, you do meet her very often. She does not have a name, or rather a single name. You find her in your family, or in the parish. You many find her in your neighbourhood or in a shop nearby. She may be the poorest person you must have met, but with the greatest happiness perhaps. She may be a Christian or she may belong to any religion, or perhaps to no religion. You love to be around such a person, who radiates joy, and gives full attention to you.

We find such ordinary persons who are fully awake in our day to day lives. They teach and inspire us many things, but surely how to be awake. They teach us how to be present here and now. There is no hurry. They teach us to meet God here and now.

Or where else can you find Him?

The Beheading of St John the Baptist

Mark 6:17-29

John the Baptist is the only saint in the calendar (apart from St Joseph) who has two feasts to himself. One, in August, celebrates his death, and one, in June, celebrates his birth.

A prophet from before his birth, leaping in the womb to announce the human coming of the incarnate God, his task was to proclaim the fulfilment of all prophecies. And he did it: with unequalled courage he spread the news that he, the greatest of all, was the least in the kingdom of heaven. John was a teacher of the covenant law given to Moses, and he was relentless in its application. He stood before the most powerful man in Israel, declared he was living in a way that was not right, and it cost him his freedom and his life.

John died for truth, for standing for principles. He was precursor to Jesus, not just in his birth, but also in his martyr's death. As today's gospel would point out that John became a victim to the whims and fancies of a foolish king and a cruel and evil woman. On one side the vanities of the mob, the guests accompanying this act of foolishness and on the other the helplessness of a truthful soul. This scene, as in Hollywood or Bollywood, is being replayed time and again with victories for truth only in the reel life. But in the real life, the voiceless ones keep losing. We too find ourselves on the losing side day after day. That is why, many of us compromise our positions to various degrees: from a simple lie to a life betrayal. We find truth not just impalpable, but impractical and non-practical. But those who still love truth, honesty and sincerity, get used to suffering and defeats, but also to see God's hand. Not everything is lost. God is there. God is here in our fight for justice and truth and authenticity, especially within ourselves.

Many a time living for Jesus can be more difficult than dying for him. You will agree, all of us are called to live as martyrs (perhaps none to die as martyrs). To be witnesses in living for Jesus, in living for truth and principles. It means we are called to die many times before we finally, physically die. God will even use these deaths in our favour, if we will allow it. To love is to die. Every time you choose to love, you have also just chosen to die. Some kind of suffering is always the price and proof of love. To stand for truth is to die. You need to suffer if you stand for truth and principles. But above all, the failures, emptiness, negativity, acts of resistance, sinfulness, weaknesses and fragility that we experience in our daily lives are also a way to experience death in our lives.

What is this death? Death is going to full depth, hitting the bottom, going the distance, beyond where we are in control. It is a "descent into hell" or into the pit, the dark night, Sheol or Hades. We all die eventually; we have no choice in the matter. But there are degrees of death before the final physical one. In this way, we are dying throughout our life. Only after many of these deaths we discover that grace accompanies each and every death of ours, and grace is that which is found at the depths and in the depth of everything. Therefore, we must not be afraid of going down. In a way, we should not even be afraid of losing (again and again), falling, and failing. All these are experiences will give us grace; all these are also grace-filled events. Are we ready to believe the impossible?

St Augustine

When Augustine heard a child singing, "Take up and read!," thinking that God intended him to hear those words, he picked up the book of the Letters of St Paul, and read the first passage his gaze fell on. It was just what Augustine needed, for in it, St Paul says to put away all impurity and to live in imitation of Christ. That did it! From then on, Augustine began a new life.

The power to change one’s life can come from a paragraph, a lone remark, a single verse. But that is only the climax of various things that could happen in a person's life, as it was the case in St Augustine's dramatic life of transformation.

Through the prayers of his holy mother St Monica and the marvellous preaching of St Ambrose, Augustine was led to the Christian faith, but not without his personal effort and extensive quest for the Truth. Augustine's arrival at faith was not magical, though dramatic; it was a gradual process of allowing God to transform him. In his famous work Confessions, Augustine writes: "Late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient and so new, late have I loved you! Lo, you were within, but I outside, seeking there for you. You were with me, but I was not with you. You called, you cried out and you rid me of my deafness." These well-known words of his tell of a deeper understanding of his own conversion, that God is the primary agent of his transformation. The source and end of all transformation is God himself; our lives not just Augustine's can be summarized by these famous and beautiful words of his: "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in you."

We can find that rest in the innermost point of our beings. Thomas Merton wrote about this virginal innermost point thus: "At the center of our being is a point of nothingness which is untouched by sin and by illusion, a point of pure truth, a point or spark which belongs entirely to God, which is never at our disposal, from which God disposes of our lives, which is inaccessible to the fantasies of our own mind or the brutalities of our own will. This little point of nothingness and of absolute poverty is the pure glory of God in us. It is like a pure diamond, blazing with the invisible light of heaven. It is in everybody, and if we could see it we would see these billions of points of light coming together in the face and blaze of a sun that would make all the darkness and cruelty of life vanish completely."

The Innermost Point in us cannot be lost. But it can be hidden away because of our various distractions as St Augustine's life shows us. In other words, God resides in us; unless we give Him some time and space we won't be able to identify our deep connectedness to Him. As St Augustine would say, God is present to us always and everywhere, but am I present to Him here and now? If a stormy life like that of Augustine could find true peace and rest in God, could touch the core of reality, the person that he was in God’s eyes, how about us? If only we could see the secret beauty of our hearts. If only we could see each other that way all the time. There would be no more war, no more hatred, no more cruelty, no more greed.

As St Augustine's life loudly proclaims, the lives of saints never point to themselves, but always and forever beyond themselves to the One who chose them, uses them and loves them.

St Monica

We celebrate two feasts (memorials) on 27th and 28th of August every year: of St Monica and her son St Augustine respectively. Augustine himself writes about his mother's unceasing prayers and tears for his conversion. Shortly before her death, Monica said to Augustine, "One thing only there was for which I desired to linger in this life: to see you a Christian before I died. And my God has granted this to me more lavishly than I could have hoped, letting me see even you spurning earthly happiness to be His servant."

Monica's life was far from easy or sweet. But she teaches how a faith-filled woman in the family can be instrumental in the conversion and well-being of all the members in the family. As the story goes, when Monica was very young, was married off to the Roman pagan Patricius, who shared his mother's violent temper. Patricius' mother lived with the couple and the duo's temper flares proved to be a constant challenge to young Monica. While Monica's prayers and Christian deeds bothered Patricius, he is said to have respected her beliefs. Three children were born to Monica and Patricius: Augustine, Navigius, and Perpetua. Unfortunately, Monica was unable to baptize her children and when Augustine fell ill, Monica pleaded with Patricius to allow their son to be baptized. Patricius allowed it, but when Augustine was healthy again, he withdrew his permission. (It was a practice then to delay the Baptism, even up to one's adulthood.) For years Monica prayed for her husband and mother-in-law, until finally, one year before Patricius' death, she successfully converted them. As time passed, Perpetua and Navigius entered the religious life, but unfortunately Augustine became lazy and uncouth. This greatly worried Monica, so when Patricius died, she sent the 17-year-old Augustine to Carthage for schooling. But even education kept Augustine far from the Christian faith.

Monica went to a bishop, who told her, "the child of those tears shall never perish." This encouraged and inspired Monica, who followed Augustine to Rome, where she learned he had left for Milan. She continued her persual and eventually came upon St Ambrose, who was instrumental in bringing Augustine to Christianity following his seventeen-year resistance. After a period of six months, Augustine was baptized in the church of St John the Baptist at Milan. Before their departure to Tagaste, their homeland in Africa, Monica passed away in the Roman port city of Civitavecchia. She was buried at Ostia, and her body was removed during the 6th century to a hidden crypt in the church of Santa Aurea in Ostia, near the tomb of St Aurea of Ostia.

Monica's is an inspiring life, whose spark of faith lit the lives of her mother-in-law, her husband, and her children, especially St Augustine, a key figure and a pillar in the history of Christianity. Thanks to her determination, her tears and unceasing prayers, that became pivotal not in just in a private home, but in the history of Christianity. As someone (perhaps St Augustine or St Thomas Aquinas—I'm not able to find the quote) said: Determination is the only thing needed to be a saint.

May St Monica inspire our Christian lives too! May many Monicas be instrumental in spreading God's light in this world!

Commitment

"Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life."

Earlier I used to watch a programme called "The Devil's Advocate" on an Indian television channel, hosted by Karan Thapar, who also did other similar programmes like "The Last Word," "To the Point," and "Nothing But The Truth." In fact, many channels do have similar programmes. A politician or prominent public figure is confronted in front of the cameras by one or more interviewers on some issues. Or better known are the various talk shows (even during the evening news time) with umpteen number of politicians or personalities, who are allowed to debate, confront, and in some channels, even to shout at each other. Many of these programmes, in my opinion, are less a quest for truth than a ploy to force the interviewees into making damaging admissions. The public is led to believe that the politicians (or other persons) are putting their reputation, if not their career, on the line. The journalists have raked through previous recorded statements of their victims to show their inconsistency and lack of credibility. But, as you know, politicians have become very adept at deflecting these types of assaults, claiming their previous statements are misquoted or taken out of context. For the public, the talk shows are just another form of spectator sport. They are more interested in the performance of the politicians (the interviewees) than in the truth. Never once do I remember a show like this coming to a sort of consensus or conclusion or even a compromise. Never once do I remember that truth has prevailed in any of these shows (though some of the programmes did have title connected to "truth"). But, shockingly, I realise now that I was being carried away by or reacting to the stuff presented on the idiot box. I was not interested in the truth. Was I?

Jesus, our Lord, would have made a bad politician, a failure in all the senses. Today's gospel reading (John 6:60-69) is a witness to it. When some followers said, "This is intolerable language. How could anyone accept it?," Jesus asked them to make their choice. "Does this upset you?" "Do you also want to go away?" Neither surprised nor disappointed at their reaction, Jesus did not take back anything he had said nor try to make his teaching more acceptable. It was the parting of the ways. Jesus was not worried about defending himself or his doctrine that he is the true bread from heaven. He was concerned about truth, nothing but the truth. He did not water down his teachings or his position.

As Christians, are we concerned about truth or convenience? Are we concerned about public image than our private conviction? In any case there are enough question marks hanging over our religious commitment to cause concern. What is important is the true level of our commitment, which can never be adequately expressed publicly. Only the believer herself will know in the depth of her heart. We could even say many Christians have stopped believing in the "hard sayings" of the gospel. It is symptomatic of our time. We go more for convenience than truth itself. We are worried about our lifestyle and social securities than profess our faith in the Lord. God is secondary to our comfort-seeking. We give time to Him only if we can afford it.

There are many occasions when Christ could say to us, as he asked his disturbed followers, "Does this upset you?" He was prepared to lose his followers rather than compromise the truth. The gospel records the outcome carefully, "After this, many of his disciples left him and stopped going with him." This was a moment of crisis. What Jesus was demanding of them was not understanding, but faith in himself. There was no way they could avoid making a choice of being for or against Jesus. But Peter, who too would have found Jesus' teaching strange, said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the message of eternal life." Also for us, what other alternative have we?

On Being Humble

“Those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

We humans actually respond to one another's energy more than to people's exact words or actions. Either we use our positive energy (eros) or use our negative energy (thanatos) in relating with others. In any situation, we are either giving away energy or taking away energy from others. People either attract each other, or their “vibrations” do not meet. It may have to do with physical appearance, body language, the way people are dressed, and all kinds of other indeterminable factors. Most times it also has something to do with one's personality: eros or thanatos. A modest and simple person attracts everyone. An arrogant and haughty person antagonizes everyone. Nobody is more difficult than the person who looks down on others. What we all desire and need from one another is that life energy called eros. It always draws, creates, and connects things. In the same line, Jesus says in Matthew 23:1-12 that “The greatest among you must be your servant. Those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

Humble persons are those who are open to reality, who can listen readily to others, who are open to others' views without imposing their own. They will have a sense of humour, and they will see the relativity of things. They will not get haughty. They will be neither fanatic nor intolerant. They are present to you wholeheartedly, they can respond to situations according to the need.

Humble persons are always honest. This is one thing true about them. They are honest to themselves, and to others. They are honest about life itself, which is made up of so many failings and fallings. They are not in search of an illusory perfection, they can deal with imperfections, especially their own. They are people who can hold the tension of having both good and bad, beautiful and ugly, light and dark aspects within themselves, and without themselves. It takes uncommon humility to carry the dark side of things.

We need to learn humility, as humility is the mother of all values. Only then we can hear the good news with open hearts. We need to maintain an attitude of humility before the great Mystery of God and the mystery of life itself. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest and author (on whom I base most of my reflections), says he prays for five moments of humiliation every day. That is another way to remain on the ground, to remain humble. Failure, sin, humiliation, and shadow work are very good teachers if we allow them to be.

Humans, humiliation and humility all seem connected to the same root: "humus." We humans belong to earth, to dust. Without God's spirit blown into us, we are mere dust. But with His energy, we have life. Let us also learn from Mother Mary, the humble handmaid of the Lord; she teaches us that it is humility of heart which the Lord finds especially attractive.

Meeting Jesus

“You will see greater things than this. Amen, amen, I say to you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.”

In John 1:45-51, Philip not only obeys the call to become a disciple himself, but brings another disciple with him to Jesus. Nathanael (= Deus dedid, “Gift of God”) was a native of Cana in Galilee (John 21:2), and is most probably identical with Bartholomew (= “son of Tolmai”) the Apostle, whose feast we celebrate today. (One tradition speaks of Bartholomew visiting India—the present day Punjab, but the Roman Martyrology has him martyred in Armenia, skinned alive according to the Persian custom.)

A true Jesus-experience, a God-encounter, pushes you out of your comfort zone to involve others, and to even take risks. You don't have to be a perfect person to experience the fullness of God. You don't have to be in a perfect place to have a God-experience. God is incarnate in every moment, wherever you are. He is present to those who know how to be present here and now. Strangely enough, it is often imperfect people and people in quite secular settings who encounter God's Presence, as we read in today's gospel. Nathanael disregards Jesus because of the insignificance of where Jesus came from, as did the religious and secular authorities. Although Nathanael is cynical at the beginning, the Jesus-encounter leaves him deeply transformed.

Let's see Jesus attitude towards Nathanael. Jesus sees the inside of Nathanael, and says: “Truly, this is one in whom there is no deception!” How do we treat people who are always complaining? How do we feel about people who grumble, and are unhappy? Jesus teaches us how to see the authenticity of a person, how to see the depth of a person. Every person is basically good, s/he too is God's Beloved. Our positive approach (truthful approach) towards persons can even change people.

Nathanael's openness to reality makes him meet God in Jesus. His encounter with Jesus changes him profoundly. Like Philip, he too starts following Jesus. And Jesus assures him and all of us: “You will see greater things than that. I tell you most solemnly, you will see heaven laid open and, above the Son of Man the angels of God ascending and descending.” Mature religion involves changing ourselves and letting ourselves be changed by a mysterious encounter with grace, mercy, and forgiveness. This is the truth that will set us free, and will make us live our heaven here and now, not just after our death.

God comes to us “here and now” disguised as our life. Let God live in us. Let Him take charge of our life. Only then will we know that the myriad forms of life in the universe are merely parts of the One Life—that many of us call “God.” Only then will I know that my life is not about me, but I am about Life. “I live now not I, but Another Life lives in me.”

Attracted by God

“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you;

I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

The parable in Matthew 22:1-14 (parallel passage Luke 14:15-24) is a story of refusal. The banquet is prepared. Everything is in order. The roast is sliced, the salad bar ready, the vegetables steaming, but the guests don’t come. The guests have other things to do. Those hesitations have a special significance in this case. It is God who did the inviting! Accepting such an invitation is a serious issue. To be invited by God and Jesus Christ? You never know how that will end. Or maybe you do guess, and you don’t want it.

Many of us live on that kind of edge. We are attracted by God, we know we are invited by Jesus’ love, and yet we don’t dare accept. We hesitate. We refuse. And yet we can’t deny that that invitation has come to us. We can almost hear the music in the hall and smell the roast on the fire. The American Quaker Thomas Kelly described this intuition in a striking way: “And we are unhappy, uneasy, strained, oppressed, and fearful we shall be shallow. For over the margins of life comes a whisper, a faint call, a premonition of richer living which we know we are passing by. Strained by the very mad pace of our daily outer burdens, we are further strained by an inward uneasiness, because we have hints that there is a way of life vastly richer and deeper than all this hurried existence, a life of unhurried serenity and peace and power. If only we could slip over into that Center. If only we could find the Silence which is the source of sound.”

We read in the first reading of today, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you and cause you to walk in my statutes and to carefully observe my ordinances.” All of us are more religious and more mystical than we appear to be. We have God's spirit within us. We have seen more than we want to admit even to ourselves: bits of light, rays of goodness, fragment of songs, patches of heaven. Most times we act as if we never heard or saw a thing. Sometimes we prefer our stony hearts to the natural hearts given to love. We have His DNA, we are made in His image and likeness. We have His GPS within us. We are deeply connected to God, but feel embarrassed to admit it.

Such a refusal is sin. Sin is a state more than a momentary behaviour. It is the state of being closed down, shut off, blocked, and thus resisting the eternal flow of love (like God Himself) that we're meant to be. It is always a refusal of mutuality and closing down into separateness or isolation. Whenever we refuse mutuality towards God or anything, whenever we won't allow our deep inner-connectedness to guide us, whenever we're not attuned to both receiving and giving love, then we are in a state of sin.

What are the areas in my life that I refuse God, that I resist God's light and grace? Are there times when I block my love for persons? Do I disconnect myself and my presence from people and things that need my attention? Let us be clear that we know and accept ourselves in the very same movement in which we know and accept God; in surrendering to God, we simultaneously accept our best and fullest self. God and I may not be completely one; but at the same time God and I are not two either. I don't lose myself in Him; rather I find my true self only in Him.

God's Generosity

“Why be envious because I am generous?”

The parable of the labourers in the vineyard in Matthew 20:1-16, today's gospel reading, is confounding. “Why be envious because I am generous?” The position of the landowner is illogical. But that is God precisely: that is grace, that is mercy itself. God breaks His own rules, and He is inconsistent. He is not predictable. He is beyond our understanding and rationality. God's ways are not our ways. His gratuitous generosity, who can beat?

So our talk of better Christians with a deeper faith, or old generation Christians, or new generation Christians, or early disciples, or later disciples, or better Church, or true religion, etc., have no sense or basis. All are equal in God's eyes.

It is also true that we as Christians often settle for quick, easy, and glib answers. We remain within our comfort zones, and tend to think we have God in our pockets. We even think that we understand God perfectly, and we become the know-all guys of God and religion, and we become the official spokespersons for God Himself. Isn't that too much?

We have even made the Eucharist into a worthiness contest and something that we could supposedly understand with our mind—both a terrible waste of time. Though we publicly say, “Lord, I am not worthy” in the Mass, but immediately then walk up as if we are “worthy”—and even claim that others are not worthy. (We even have extensive rules on who is worthy to receive communion, and who is not.) Isn't this a “performative contradiction” right in the heart of the liturgy?

All are equal in God's eyes. We are one, we are equal in dignity, we all eat of the same divine food, and Jesus is still and always “eating with sinners” (for which people hated him). But we his followers, we don't want to eat with sinners and the unworthy—because we have our rules! How strange and how comical is our attitude! We have even separated ourselves from our Master: Jesus can do all those things, but how can we? Let us remember Jesus wanted to introduce a new social order, a new world order. This new world order is based on the experience of a God who is experienced personally. This is based on God who is Love itself, who is Mercy itself. Jesus was not proclaiming the reform of the world; he was proclaiming the end of the world. He is not presenting a new programme for the same old human society. He refuses to accept society on its own terms; he refuses to offer it allegiance as it is.

Don't mistake me: we are not called to love God or the world. There is no “either / or.” Rather, we are called to love God in the world. We love God by loving the world. We love God through and with the world. But this turns out to be a kenotic, a sacrificial love. And this world turns out to be God's world, not ours! A new world order! A new world, re-created! We cannot love God unless we love God’s world.

Last Equals First

“The last will be first, and the first, last.”

Human systems and organizations always create divisions and inequalities. Those who belong and those who do not belong. The good and the bad. The obedient and the disobedient. The patriotic and the unpatriotic. Those who can receive the sacraments and those who can't. The beautiful and the ugly. The sacred and the profane. The worthy and the unworthy. The just and the unjust. Holy and unholy. The saint and the sinner. The rich and the poor. The virgin and the prostitute. Friend and enemy. The native and the foreigner. The first and the last. There is no end to the categories that we humans have causing the “first” ones look down on the “last” ones: money, beauty, muscles, study, race, skin, age, smell, gender, abode, origin, street, piety, religion, culture, tribe, health, name, ordination, and so on. The list is endless and the difficulties that these prejudices cause are enormous.

When Jesus tells us that the last ones will be the first ones and the first ones the last, he doesn’t want to reverse people’s positions. He doesn’t want to put those who are standing in the front at the back. That would only perpetuate the differences. Jesus wants to abolish those differences. The first ones and the last ones are equal—regardless of age, race, gender, religion, or all the rest. In his vision we are equal as sisters and brothers, who are friends.

Our societies, churches, nations, orders, associations, castes, statuses, all of these create outcasts. These systems seem to thrive on exclusion and inclusion, creating more and more inequalities, which push certain people to the peripheries and throw them out of the system. There is a certain advantage if you are an excluded one: you don't have to live the lie that others live within the system. You are free from the lie and the disease within the system. That's why Jesus seems to say that the excluded ones, the least, the lost and the last, the underprivileged, and the outcasts have a head start in spirituality. "Blessed are the poor." If the system is a mess, then those outside of it are at a significant advantage.

What exist in life are not divisions, but mere differences. Differences are lines. They are not boundaries. And, every boundary is a potential battle line. That is, divisions create conflicts. Let us therefore give up the illusions of separations and divisions. We need to include differences. We need to celebrate differences. Because, no one is excluded in God's vision. Nothing is excluded in God's reign. Everyone belongs. Everything belongs.

Possessions

"Teacher, what good must I do to possess eternal life?"

Matthew 19:16-22 presents a young man who approaches Jesus with a concrete question: "What good deed must I do to possess eternal life?" Jesus throws to him a few commandments, a few rules to "keep." But the young man is not happy with that answer, saying that he has always observed them in his life. He asks further, "What more do I need to do?" Dear friends, we can recognize in this man (whom the gospel doesn’t name) every person who approaches Jesus Christ questioning him not so much about rules to be followed, but about the full meaning of life. This youth expresses the aspiration at the heart of every human being. Who am I, what should I do? What is the meaning of my existence? It is the echo of God’s call in us, the only one to satisfy the desire of the human heart. Those questions come from the depths of the heart. These questions are essential and unavoidable. I believe we have had at least a few occasions to ask ourselves these deeper questions of life.

Returning to the gospel passage of today: Conscious of the young man’s yearning for something greater, which would transcend a legalistic interpretation of the commandments, Jesus, the Good Teacher invites him to enter upon the path of perfection: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.” To follow Jesus we need to sell off our possessions, give up our material attachments, and serve the poor.

When the young man heard these words he went away sad. He wasn't yet ready to follow the perfect road. This is the tragic end of the story. He was able to ask the right questions, but not courageous enough (or ready) to follow the demands of the answers that he discovers. The gospel story of today ends on this tragic note, "He was a man of great wealth." Money, success, and popularity and our attachments to them will not help us to follow Jesus. I may follow all the rules and regulations of the Church, but I may not be able to follow Jesus and do what he tells. It is interesting and tragic to note that I could be a Christian, but not follow Jesus and his wishes for me. I may be a Christian but still attached to wealth and luxuries, and keep my heart far away from Jesus. I may serve the Church as an institution, but not serve the Lord who is revealed in the Church. That's called idolatry.

People the most obedient to commandments and church formulas can very often be the hardest to convert. They've take the symbol for the substance. They've taken the ritual for the reality. They've take the means for the end and become immunized from the experience of the real thing. That's called idolatry, when we worship and protect the means. It actually keeps us from the journey to the end. Religions should be understood as only the fingers that point to the moon, not the moon itself.

What are my possessions today? Do I possess them or they possess me? What are my attachments and addictions? What are my obsessions? What are my idols? What are those things (and those persons) in my life that keep me away from Jesus Christ and his wishes for me? Do I want to possess eternal life or possess things? Am I courageous enough (or ready) to face the answers?

Only God can satisfy my heart...

Spiritual Hunger

"If you do not eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood you will not have life in you."

Let us listen to a metaphorical tale written by Friedrich Nietzsche. In the tale, Nietzsche describes a man running into the middle of a marketplace at the noon hour holding high a lit lantern crying out to the busy masses, “Where is God? Where is God?” The crowd pauses long enough to take in this strange spectacle and to ridicule him. The man smashes the lantern against the cobble stones and declares, “God is dead!” and he laments that he and the crowd are guilty of the murder, responsible for taking a sponge that has wiped away the horizon.

Nietzsche might have been the father of modern atheism, but his is one of the first voices to cry out to believers for honesty. It was Nietzsche’s deepest desire to know God, but he was desperately seeking him among the believing so-called religious people, only to come away emptier than before. What has happened to the honest experience of God that once so framed the whole of society?

There is undoubtedly a basic hunger for the spiritual in us. Such a hunger is and always has been worldwide, even among the so-called atheists. We may even venture to say that such a hunger has caught up with the empty promises of industrialization and capitalism.

Thomas Merton, the American Cistercian monk and author, embodied that hungering quest in his auto-biographical sketch, The Seven Storey Mountain, which surprised the world and himself with its raging success in 1947. His story spoke to a hungering world. His testimony resounded throughout East and West in the details of his conversion and transformation. The world accompanied his anguished search long after the publication of his work and felt the pangs of emptiness at his early and tragic death—a death coming on the brink of his rendezvous with the East.

It would seem that there has been a swell of voices in the last two centuries—voices announcing the arrival of a new world, a globalization to come with all its potential, all of its problems, and all of its hunger. To each of these potentials, problems and hungers, the Gospel rises ever new. Jesus proclaims, "I am the Bread from heaven." For the last few Sundays we have been reflecting from John 6, to conclude next Sunday with the words of Peter, "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." Jesus, the Word of God and the Bread of God, is the nourishment for the hungering world; he gives himself to nourish us: symbolically and sacramentally in the eucharist. But receiving the eucharist is meaningless and profitless if we fail to live what we celebrate. Does the eucharist satisfy our spiritual hunger? Or are we indifferent to God and His things both within us and around us? It is said indifference is the opposite of love; and indifference is the most deadly poison of our times. Indifference is the silent killer of Christianity; many Christians (though they come to church) have stopped expecting anything from the eucharist or from God. (If you don't believe this statement, try looking around in the church during the Sunday Mass. I'll be happy to be wrong!)

But the major question is this: Where am I? Have I given in to indifference? Or do I believe truly that God can nourish my inner life? We must take our religion out of the church into our hearts, and also bring it into the market place.

Being Children

"Let the children come to me, for the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these."

Matthew 19:13-15 is a tiny gospel passage about little children approaching Jesus, and the disciples reproaching them. But Jesus tells his disciples, "Let the children alone, and do not stop them coming to me; for it is to such as these that the Kingdom of heaven belongs." The endearing words both of the evangelist ("little" children) and of Jesus (let them be; let them alone; let them come; .... such as these) give us a sweetness of the situation. But how could the disciples not feel with Jesus or the children? Strangely, on the contrary, the disciples scold the children. These children should have known their place; they don’t really count. They should be seen, but definitely not heard. But Jesus reiterates that "the Kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these little children." It is not about being big, but becoming little. How often we have forgotten this and demanded that one needs to be an adult! ("Grow up, man!") Matthew uses this event to show the new kind of house-order Jesus came to introduce. All community members, young and old, count as equals not only in the eyes of God, but in the practice of Jesus’ community itself.

Pope Francis recently said, “Children cry, they are noisy, they don’t stop moving. But it really irritates me when I see a child crying in church and someone says they must go out. God’s voice is in a child’s tears: they must never be sent out of church. The children’s tears are the best sermon.” Isn't this really gospel from the mouth of the Holy Father? Let little ones be!

To understand Jesus Christ and his good news, we have to pray for the grace of a "beginner's mind." We need to be as trusting and open as a child, a beginner. What blocks spiritual teaching is the assumption that we already know, or that we don't need to know. Without humility there is no growth, no spiritual maturity. In the words of Henri Nouwen, we must learn to live each day, each hour, yes, each minute as a new beginning, as a unique opportunity to make everything new. This is what Prophet Ezekiel (in today's first reading) recommends the House of Israel and all of us: Make for yourselves a new heart and a new spirit. Like a child, let us trust in our Lord who tells us, "Behold, I make all things new." Every moment! At this very moment!

Marriage

Marriage and divorce are thorny issues in the world, especially in the Catholic Church, as She permits no divorce (although She permits separation in some cases). But this is clear to all of us: no one of goodwill gets married for divorce or separation. There may be persons who don't marry for love, but even they don't intend a break-up.

Ideally, then, marriage is for love: not for convenience, wealth, or status. As Jesus says in today's gospel (Matthew 19:3-12), in marriage the man and the woman become one. “The two become one flesh.” Yet, it doesn’t always happen. Human nature being what it is, things might go wrong. The two might have been mistaken about each other, or their relations prove to be no help to either of them at all. The two don’t always become one. I mean, even in good marriages there are make or break situations. Some survive the storm, some don't. Relationships go sour even among well-intentioned couples.

We know very well the tragic circumstances that surround a break-up. Thinking of the heart-breaks involved in many a break-up, youngsters seem to prefer a non-responsible (I don't mean "irresponsible") live-in relationships. They are not afraid of marriage, but they seem to be afraid of love itself and its demands. For marriage to be a success, certain freedoms that a single person enjoys will have to be given up. But we don’t like giving things up, even when we know they are bad for us.

Marriage entails a commitment that demands exclusivity and reordering of blood relationships. A husband cannot love his parents or family more than his wife. The bond between a man and woman involves the promises to share the joys and all the sorrows and pains of life, shared carrying the cross of married life—in sickness, or in suffering. To grow in mutual love each must increasingly let go of the “self.” We could reformulate one of Jesus’ sayings: “The husband who loses his life for his wife’s sake will find it.”

The marriages that survive the storm produce mature and truly loving people. These couples show the meaning of marriage itself. Marriage is not a contract, but covenantal love. It is not about doing 50 - 50. It is about being ready to do 100%, even when the other spouse is indisposed to give his/her best. These persons show what love is all about, that love has no expectations from the other, and that love is more about sacrifice and surrender than about feelings. As Richard Rohr writes, "Love is not love until you stop expecting something back. The moment you want something in return for your giving, all love is weakened and prostituted."

Mature married people have a lot to teach us, especially the celibates. Life is never about being correct, but only and always about being connected. Just stay connected! At all costs stay connected. This is holiness. Holiness is staying connected at all costs. Similarly, happiness too is about being connected. It doesn't take two people to have a happy marriage. It only takes one: you.

Seventy Times Seven

(This slightly long reflection is partially based on Fr Ivo Coelho's homily on forgiveness, preached at Rome last year.)

Two-thirds of Jesus’ teaching is directly or indirectly about forgiveness! And in today's gospel (Matthew 18:21 - 19:1) Jesus is asking us to forgive our brother/sister from the heart. Not seven times, but seventy times seven. An incredibly (almost) impossible tall order! We need to acknowledge that it is very difficult to forgive. Almost impossible. Jesus forgives his murderers on the cross. He forgives when it is most difficult. He forgives even the unrepentant thief. (Otherwise Jesus won’t be our model.) He forgives the Jews and the Romans, but more importantly he forgives his own disciples, his own friends. After his resurrection, his first words are: “Peace be with you.” No stories, no hurts; only peace, only forgiveness. For Jesus too it would have been (comparatively) easier to forgive others - Romans, then Jews. But then to forgive his own disciples, that was not easy; yet he did it.

Forgiveness is the name of love that is practised among imperfect people like us. It is important that I live and experience the forgiveness of God. Unless I experience the mercy and forgiveness of the Lord I will not be able to transfer or do the same to my fellow beings. This point is clear in the parable of today's gospel. Though the wicked servant was forgiven, he is not ready to do the same. He has not experienced the forgiveness, or he has not fully appropriated his master's mercy. The parable is very logical. But still that wicked servant does not do it.

I repeat, the parable is logical. But are we ready to forgive like our Master? As the Lord has forgiven us, are we able to do the same? Or are we like the wicked servant? I know that God has forgiven me, He forgives me continuously, but I am not able to do forgive like Him. Though he has forgiven our bigger debts, we are not able to forgive the comparatively smaller debts of our dear ones and neighbours and others. The parable is logical: easy to understand, but am I living a life of daily forgiveness?

Forgiveness is central to the Lord’s prayer (in fact, a programme of life). The more you forgive, the more you receive forgiveness. Receiving forgiveness and offering forgiveness go hand in hand. Repentance is also about giving your forgiveness to others like you.

To forgive, you have to be able to see the other person—at least momentarily—as a whole person, as an image of the Divine, containing holiness and horror at the same time. In other words, you can’t eliminate the negative. You know they’ve hurt you. You know they did something wrong. You know they screwed your life, but then you are ready to forgive them. You have to learn to live well with this "contradiction," or else you can’t forgive. Forgiveness accepts the dark past with an attitude of gratefulness. It can accept contradictions and darkness that we have encountered in our lives.

The point of the gospel, of the parable is this: You can forgive only when you yourself have experienced mercy, when you yourself have appropriated forgiveness from the Lord (when you are continuously experiencing his touch of forgiveness). When you are able to understand that God loves you precisely in your obstinate sinfulness, when you’re still a mixture of good and bad, holiness and horror. You’re not a perfectly loving person, and God still totally loves you. This is the understanding we need. When I can stand under the waterfall of infinite mercy and know that I am loved precisely in my unworthiness and sinfulness, then I can pass along mercy to the other.

God cannot stop loving you. God cannot not forgive you. He is mercy itself. Let love and forgiveness happen in your lives. Pass along this beauty of mercy to others. The choice is yours: Do you want to imitate the Master or the wicked servant?

Death and Life

In India, 15th August is a double feast: the Assumption of our Blessed Mother, and the Independence Day. We thank and salute the hundreds and thousands who gave us freedom as we celebrate our Independence Day. They were not afraid of dying so that they might give us life. We thank God for their sacrifices.

The Assumption celebrates the teaching that Mary was assumed body and soul directly into heaven. So when we say she was assumed bodily into heaven, what do we mean? Even in English, this is not very clear. Theologically it means she has special privileges afforded to her body since she carried the Son of God in her womb. But historically, the church has disputed whether or not this means Mary actually died. Some have preferred the term dormition, the idea that Mary just went to sleep and woke up Queen of Heaven. Others insist that she certainly died but just as surely did not suffer decay. How could the Ark of the Covenant, which carried God’s holy word so immediately within her, know the spoil of sin in death? Somewhere in the heart of history, a woman’s body has been considered too holy to touch, too precious to lose. After twenty centuries, that is still news.

This celebration is not merely of Mary, but all of us. It is our hope that we too will have the same fate as Mary. Our death will be a gateway to new life; death will not be the end of us. We will live, but in a transformed state. Death and life will be united. As Ken Wilber says, "The fact that life and death are 'not two' is extremely difficult to grasp, not because it is so complex, but because it is so simple." Of course, we miss the unity of life and death when our ordinary mind begins to think about it. The ultimate significance, or at least one, is this: We are made for transcendence and endless horizons.

Though we are vaguely aware of our transcendent and spiritual nature, our small ego usually gets in the way. Instead of seeking a deeper truth about ourselves, we become involved in petty preoccupations and in the selfish anxieties of our lives. But the good news is this. God is not far away from the mess of our lives. He is found within that very mess of our daily, ordinary, humdrum lives. The very failures and radical insufficiency of our lives are what lead us into larger life and love. Let us not be afraid of dying to our egos and selfishness; let us not be afraid of entering death in any form; let us not be afraid of entering deep into our lives. For God is found at the depth and in the death of everything.

Solidarity

“Suppose a man has a hundred sheep and one of them strays; will he not go in search of the stray?”

Jesus asks a question about the good shepherd who lost a sheep: “Will he not leave the ninety-nine?” In real life the answer might be “No.” Doesn’t the shepherd going in search of the stray put the ninety-nine at risk? Wouldn’t it be more logical for him to take care of them? Should he leave all those others behind because one got lost? Isn’t leaving those ninety-nine not only absurd, but even irresponsible?

It is Saint Augustine who recommends that we should have a closer look at numbers when we read the Bible. Numbers have a deep meaning. Even for us 100 is a special number. It indicates completeness. It is a rounded-off number. It is a serious matter when such a whole number is broken. It only takes one to break it. So, in a way, it doesn’t even matter whether one is missing, or sixteen, or thirty-four. Losing even one means losing completeness. Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan writes in his Testimony of Hope: "If Jesus would have had to take a mathematics exam, he might have failed. For him, one is equal to ninety-nine—and perhaps more! Who could ever accept this? But his mercy reaches from generation to generation. When it is a matter of saving the lost sheep, Jesus does not become discouraged by any risk or by any effort. We can contemplate his actions, full of mercy, when he sits beside Jacob's well and speaks with the Samaritan woman, or when he wishes to dine at the house of Zaccheus! What simplicity that knows no calculations, what love for sinners!"

Humanity, God’s flock, belongs together like the number 100. If even one is lost or marginalized, we are no longer complete. That is why Jesus came to find the lost and marginalized one. The life and especially the martyr's death of St Maximilian Mary Kolbe, Franciscan, is a case in point. His magnanimous offer in saving a prisoner stands out to say that even one is important, every one is important in God's sight. Maximilian becomes God's fragrant and beautiful instrument.

In 1941 Maximilian was arrested and sent to the concentration camp at Auschwitz, where he helped and supported the inmates. In August of that year a prisoner escaped, and in reprisal the authorities were choosing ten people to die by starvation. One of the men had a family, and Maximilian Kolbe offered to take his place. The offer was accepted, and he spent his last days comforting his fellow prisoners. The man he saved was present at his canonization.

Maximilian Kolbe’s martyrdom, though certainly heroic, might be the least important thing about him. He was able to offer his life because of who he was – or, rather, because of who he had become. Being—or becoming—as more important than doing; or more precisely, one's doing or one's actions is always an overflow of one's being. We are more human "beings" or human "becomings" but never human "doings." To imitate St Maximilian Kolbe requires no heroism, no special gifts, but surely perseverance, prayer, and perhaps a lot of determination.

The Children Are Free

Today's gospel reading (Matthew 17:22-27) is a combination of both tragedy and comedy. The first part of the gospel is the prediction of Jesus' passion and death, but also the resurrection on the third day. But the disciples are overwhelmed with grief. How often life is a combination of both joy and sorrow, happiness and suffering. If only we can see beyond the passing nature of experiences.

The second part is a comic situation of Jesus paying the temple tax of half-shekel. Not really comedy, but parody on the injustice of Jesus' days. Many tributes, fees, taxes and tithes were put on the common people as heavy burdens. But Jesus draws a lesson for Peter and for all of us through the event. There is no big discourse, but a simple demonstration of Jesus' calm and cool-headedness.

Honestly, Jesus' behaviour is a bit strange. Usually frank, outspoken and straightforward, but today in this passage he doesn't want to offend the tax collectors. He even makes it clear to Peter that children don’t pay tax to their father. They are free. This freedom, however, doesn’t exclude responsibilities towards others. And it is here that an important lesson is given to all of us. Our freedom shouldn’t cause scandal. Jesus is not up in arms fighting against the injustice, nor is he grumbling. He creatively avoids a scene, so to say. Though not obliged, Jesus is willing to pay the tax for himself and for Peter voluntarily. To show, however, that he is not obliged to do so, he doesn’t pay from the common purse they have or with the help of a rich supporter; he does it from the mouth of a fish. Peter has to go fishing, cast a hook in the lake, catch a fish, open its mouth, and find a shekel, just enough to pay the tax for two, for Jesus and for Peter. This is one of the many comic situations in the gospels: they paid their tax, but, in a way, they didn’t pay it themselves; a fish is made to pay to avoid scandal!

There is no anger or bitterness in Jesus while fighting injustice. How do we approach the injustices around us? What is our attitude towards the government if and when we are taxed beyond our strengths? Can't we learn something from Jesus? If we are God's beloved children, will He not arrange for "a fish"? Is He not our Father/Mother who is concerned about us day and night?

Strength for our Journey

Elijah prayed for death saying:"This is enough, O LORD! Take my life."

Having humiliated the prophets of Baal at Mount Carmel, Prophet Elijah directs their executions and runs for his life to escape the evil Queen Jezebel. And she, in turn, has promised to slay him in revenge for the slaughter of her Baal prophets. We find him under a broom tree, one day’s journey into the desert, praying for death by God’s hand. "This is enough, O LORD! Take my life." He is broken and dispirited. After a nap, Elijah feels a messenger’s touch and hears a command to eat. This is the story that is narrated in the first reading for our Sunday's liturgy (1 Kings 9:4-8).

What is said of Prophet Elijah is also true of us. Christian life is by no means plain sailing and we often find ourselves broken and crushed by circumstances that come our way. Left to our own resources we can find no light at the end of the tunnel. To keep going we need an assurance that we are not alone in our lives and that God is with us helping us to carry our crosses. We need concrete assurances. We need strength for the journey. We need to concretely know that God is concerned about us: we need angels, God's messengers, and we need nourishment and food.

The gospel of today (John 6:41-51) points out that we have such a help in Jesus who is the Bread of Life. Jesus Christ gives himself as food for us in the Eucharist. He is the nourishment for our spiritual journey towards the mountain of God. He brings each of us just what we need to sustain us on our pilgrim journey to God. Jesus is heavenly bread, medicine for the sick soul, nourishment for a wounded spirit, light and strength for a weary mind, the source of new and eternal life, whose presence and power strengthens us. He is the living Bread which has come down for heaven, the unique source of life. Once again, what is said of Elijah at the end of the first reading will also be true of us if we accept Christ in our lives. "Elijah got up, ate, and drank; then strengthened by that food, he walked forty days and forty nights to the mountain of God, Horeb."

Coming to Christ requires far more than a weekly walk up to the altar to receive Holy Communion. If Jesus makes himself available to us in our ordinary, mundane day-to-day lives, then we have to make ourselves present to him. The Eucharist is also about my presence to God, my availability to Him, my free response to Him; and also eventually my presence to others all around me. God sends us His angels and along with them the strength for our journey. This awareness could change my life, and even change others' lives. Am I aware? Or am I still having my nap?

St Clare

"When the Blessed Father (Francis) saw that we had no fear of poverty, hard work, trial, shame, or contempt from the world, but instread we held them in great delight, he created a form of life for us." - Rule of St Clare.

Leaving home at the age of 18, Chiara Offreduccio of Assisi (1193-1253), under the influence and guidance of St Francis of Assisi, began a community that grew to become the Order of Poor Clares. She has usually been overshadowed by her counterpart and mentor in the public imagination. But she has finally begun to emerge as her own person, with her own unique identity, writings, and message. She was not just Francis's feminine counterpart, but also had her own strength, message, and identity. Breaking all records, the formal process for her canonization began only two months after she died.

Clare lived for 40 years in one little spot of earth, outside the walls of Assisi, called San Damiano. She was a master and mistress of letting go of all that was unnecessary or unimportant. (If you have watched Franco Zeffirelli's film "Brother Sun, Sister Moon," you will not forget the scene of Francis cutting Clare's flowing, beautiful, golden hair symbolising utter "letting go" of everything.) She went inside instead of outside, and subsequently discovered the outside to be perfect mirror for the grace she had already found within—and vice versa. Many Franciscans themselves often felt that Francis was a bit of a fanatic in regard to poverty, whereas Clare just quietly lived it. Clare and her sisters created a way for the radical life of Francis to be actually lived with freedom and joy. The common name for them, "Poor Clares," emerged in the vernacular of many languages and reveals the social statement they were seen to be making. Clare absolutely insisted on the privilege of not being obliged to receive privileges, the right to live without any rights, the guarantee of living without guarantees. The sisters of the order were to be sustained by alms and nothing else. (Isn't this crazy?)

St Clare exemplifies Jesus' statement in today's gospel: "If your faith were the size of a mustard seed, the mountain would move." May we imitate Clare's deep faith and belonging to the Lord in this world which insists on material wealth. She shows us that we need spiritual wealth more than luxuries and comfort.

St Lawrence

"If a grain of wheat falls on the ground and dies, it yields a rich harvest."

I believe some of us would have secretly (childishly?) desired a martyr's death, not for the pain of it but for the gain (glory) of it. Reading through some lives of martyrs, you know martyrdom is no child's play. Try reading St Lawrence's life. Deacon Lawrence presented Emperor Valerian with the true gold and silver of the Church, the poor! The emperor was filled with rage! Beheading was not enough for this Christian Deacon. He ordered Deacon Lawrence to be burned alive, in public, on a griddle (frying pan). The deacon cheerfully offered himself to the Lord Jesus and even joked with his executioners: "I'm well done on this side. Turn me over!"

Martyrs show that death is part and parcel of life. Death is not the opposite of life, but the full process of life. Nothing lives long-term without dying in its present form. Even our sun, which is just one minor star in a galaxy of much larger stars, is dying to the tune of 600 million tons of hydrogen per second. It is constantly dying, but also giving life to our solar system and to every single thing that lives on our planet. As Jesus gives the example in today's gospel (John 12:24-26): A grain of wheat has to die in order to yield a rich harvest. As Jesus' own life testifies, death becomes the price of resurrection. Life is not ended, but transformed at death. This is what the martyrs loudly proclaim through their pain and suffering. Nothing is ever lost. It is only transformed.

To conclude St Lawrence's life, the tradition records massive conversions to the Christian faith as a result of the holy life and death of one Deacon who understood the true heart of his vocation. He was poured out, like his Master, Jesus Christ the Servant, in redemptive love, on behalf of others. It is still said to this day that all of Rome became Christian as a result of the faithful life, and the death, of this one humble deacon. Martyrdom, therefore, is witnessing through one's life, not just death. It is witnessing that in life we need to die many times before we finally physically die.

Nothing is ever lost; everything is transformed. God will turn all our human crucifixions into resurrection.

Peter’s Faith

“It was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you…”

Just two days ago in the gospel reading we had a chance to listen to Peter's almost childish and impetuous expression of faith. Jesus, while walking on water, calls out to the disciples, “Courage! It is I! Don’t be afraid.” Peter wants to cut his fears and doubts once and for all and shouts, “Tell me to come to you, and I will come!” Peter gets out of the boat but he doesn’t make it. He starts to sink, yelling: “Lord, save me!” Jesus pulls him out, saying: “Man of little faith, why did you doubt?” suggesting that Peter has it in him to believe. And that's what Peter shows in today's gospel reading (Matthew 16:13-23), when he speaks up for himself and for the others and all of us: “Truly, you are the Son of God!”

When Jesus asks his disciples: “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” he is not asking them a rhetorical question. It is a real question. He wants an answer. At first they all try to dodge the issue. Jesus repeats his question. It is Simon who finally gives the answer: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God!” Jesus replies: “Simon, the son of Jonah, you are a happy man, because it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven.” And he gives him a new name: “I now say to you, you are Peter and on this rock I will build my church.”

Peter does not only discover the real identity of Jesus on this day; through Jesus, Peter discovers his own identity, too. Simon the fisherman discovers that he has something in him that makes him Peter. That something is the reality of God in him. The self-discovery of one’s true name and identity happens only in God (Revelation 2:17). After all, life is not a matter of creating a special name for ourselves, but of uncovering the name we have always had. As Thomas Merton says, "There is only one problem on which all my existence, my peace and my happiness depend: to discover myself in discovering God. If I find Him I will find myself and if I find my true self I will find Him." Finding God and finding our true self—which is letting go of our false self—are finally the same thing.

“It is foolish to think that we will enter heaven without entering into ourselves” (St Teresa of Avila). Knowing our true selves and knowing God: they are one and same movement, they are one and the same thing.

Endless Love

“I have loved you with an everlasting love; I am constant in my affection for you.”

The first reading from Jeremiah (31:1-7) contains these beautiful words for Israel and for all of us: that God loves us with an everlasting love. I'm sure a mere meditation on these words can fill our hearts and our days with great joy. This is good news for us, and for all. This is no figure of speech, or mere human imagination. This is revelation, this is the great news of God's unconditional and unfailing love for us. We may have hard time in believing this, but when we even start to get the import and meaning of this statement, I think the world around us will change, our inner lives and our relationships will change forever. God loves us with an enless love; His affection is constant, non-stop. What more do we want? Isn't this the good news that we want to hear, and we want to proclaim? God is more intimate to you than you are to yourself. Nothing human can stop the flow of divine love; we cannot undo the eternal pattern of God's love even by our worst sin. Love consists in this—not limiting God by our human equations of love, but allowing God's infinite love to utterly redefine our own. (Paraphrase of 1 John 4:10.)

That God's love doesn't have boundaries, that he loves everyone deeply, that God loves every person whatever culture or religion they belong to is shown in the gospel reading of today (Matthew 15:21-28). Though initially the dialogue between the woman and Jesus is difficult, even to the extent of a seeming arrogance and bigotry from the part of Jesus who is a Jew himself (who also seems very harsh), only the end of the dialogue brings out the true meaning of the interaction. He praises her, “Woman, you have great faith!” Even though the Canaanites are historical enemies of the Jews, Jesus sees in the woman a cause to celebrate God’s goodness and healing grace. She is simply another human being. Being human, you deserve to be loved. Being human, you are already loved deeply, in an endless and boundless way.

Fear

“Courage! Do not be afraid!”

Matthew 14:22-36 narrates the story of the storm on the lake. Jesus had left the disciples to be by himself. The disciples were trying to get to the other side of the lake, but were hit by a head wind that became stronger and stronger, finally turning into a storm. They were afraid, but when they suddenly saw someone walking towards them over the water, they were terrified.

Fear can kill us. It can make us deadly sick. Those disciples were not only afraid of the wind and the water; they were terrified to see Jesus. It wasn’t the first time they were scared of him. They often must have had mixed feelings about that man, Jesus, who was changing their lives so radically. It is not always joy when you approach Jesus, or rather when he approaches you. Fear may be one of these feelings. Are you always happy to be one of his disciples? Did you ever have the feeling that you were left alone by him? That he is asking too much of you? That the cross you are supposed to bear is too heavy? Perhaps only at the end we realize that everything is for our good. Once we can accept that God is in all situations, and can and will use even bad situations for good, then everything becomes an occasion for good and everything becomes an occasion for God.

Jesus had left the disciples alone. They were trying to go home, but then, suddenly, he reappears on the lake walking over the water. “It is a ghost,” they said, and cried out in fear. Jesus called out to them: “Courage! It is I! Don’t be afraid.” It is said that the most common one-liner found in the Bible is “Don’t be afraid.” And it is found 365 times. That is, God is constantly telling you and me, “Don’t be afraid. I am there for you each and every day, each and every moment.”

Why should we, why should you, be afraid? Storms or ghosts... nothing has power over us. “Do not be afraid.”

God's Revelation

“How good it is for us to be here!”

For the disciples, what starts out as another afternoon of napping while Jesus is praying turns into a terrifying visitation of the Divine. (Many of us can identify ourselves with these disciples, can't we?) Just another reason not to close our eyes when Jesus is around! In this hour, Jesus is revealed as the fulfillment of both the law and prophecy (as represented by Moses and Elijah), besides being the Chosen Son of God, the Messiah.

Peter’s response is really an understatement: “How good it is for us to be here.” He is spared embarrassment by the fact that he does not have a clue as to what he is saying, much less what is happening. Our response to revelation is often the same. Sometimes it takes a lifetime to figure out what happened back there, what God was doing while we were all but asleep.

Each moment God has a message for us. This is the revelation of God. He is perfectly hidden and perfectly revealed in each and every moment of our lives. Did you think there would be trumpet blasts and clashing of cymbals to announce God's revelation? Did you think the angels would fly into your presence from over the clouds? There will be no solemn music, unfortunately. There will be no angels except the same old faces and a few strangers who appear and disappear in your presence. They will be your true angels, bringing you messages from God. If you nap, you might miss. The humdrum of your ordinary life is the arena of God's mighty revelation.

The present moment is the real present (= gift) of God. Here and now. Let us know that things are okay as they are, here and now. That is the key to happiness. If you're pushing yourself and others around, you have not yet found the secret of happiness. This moment is as perfect as it can be. The saints called this the “sacrament of the present moment,” where God truly reveals Himself. Will we be able to say the same statement of Peter, but fully awake and aware, “How good it is for us to be now-here!” That's not going to be easy!

Bread from Heaven

Historians attribute the proximate cause of the French Revolution to the chronic bread-shortage in Paris. What began as a simple demand for bread later evolved into a full-scale revolution for liberty, equality and fraternity. Bread (food) or rather, the lack of it can cause revolutions! The French regime then had ignored the dictum cynically coined by the Romans many centuries earlier: To keep the people happy, "give them bread and circuses." They would have even gladly followed the suggestion of Marie Antoinette (bride of King Louis XVI) who supposedly sniffed, "If they don't have enough bread, let them eat cake." Not long ago we had seen the television pictures of lengthening bread queues in Prague, Bucharest and Moscow. With a rapidity that took even seasoned political commentators completely by surprise, bread queues changed to mass rallies, toppling one regime after another. History repeats itself!

In the first reading, we hear about the manna (the bread from heaven), which was provided miraculously by God as nourishment for the Israelites during their forty year sojourn in the desert. It also started as grumbling and murmuring, as a revolution. But it was the nature of this gift that it was offered daily. While sufficient for one’s needs, it could not be stored. It could be received only as "gift," not as commodity that could be stockpiled, warehoused and traded! In the same way, the Lord gives us "graced moments" – moments that cannot be manipulated. Moments that come to us most simply as a gift when we live in such a way as to be open to them. We get them daily, the graced moments of opportunity! Every single day. But there was only one choice and one opportunity – You could grasp it for the day, or it just evaporated away in plain sight.

There is a great hunger among us, a hunger for God and his life-giving Bread. Church attendances are rapidly declining but spiritual needs and hunger are on the increase. In the gospel reading, Jesus' revolutionary statement is "I am the bread of life," as he offered himself to the hungry crowd, "He who comes to me will never be hungry: he who believes in me will never thirst." Jesus who escapes the crowd who wanted to make him king, offers himself as the true Bread from heaven. He who teaches us to pray for our daily bread, offers his Body and Blood as spiritual nourishment. Christ Jesus is our true gift from heaven, true bread from heaven, he himself is "grace." What more do we need?

The Great Why

“John’s head was brought in on a dish and given to the girl, who took it to her mother.”

Matthew 14:1-12, Saturday's gospel passage, gives us a gruesome story. A dancing girl, a wicked mother, a petty king, a set of loose guests, and on a dish the head of the man Jesus had called the greatest ever born to a woman. Why did God allow a gruesome thing like this? Why? It is the great question all of us carry under the surface of our skins in the dark depths of our hearts. Why? It is a question answered in so many different ways, that it seems as if no answer has ever been given.

Something is surely happening all around us in the world and definitely also within us. God and we are partners in what is happening. Do we want to re-write gruesome stories? God inspires us to do so, if only we are willing. He respects our freedom, and that's why we see evil in all its form. But we can do something about it, by being God's partners in re-creating the world. Instead of complaining about the disorder that we see around, can we do something about it like St John Mary Vianney?

John Mary Vianney (1786-1859), famously known as the Curé of Ars, was the son of a peasant farmer, and a slow and unpromising candidate for the priesthood. But eventually he was one of the many who redefined priesthood. What he did to the isolated village of Ars-en-Dombes as its parish priest remains as the model for every priest, every pastor. He just served in only one place all his life. His holiness made this obscure village into a place of pilgrimage, and above all the parishioners into God-fearing, nay, God-loving persons. The villagers were converted back to God, thanks to the relentless and humble pastoral service of this man. Though a dull student in his seminary days, John Mary became a noted preacher, and a celebrated confessor: such was his fame, and his reputation for insight into his penitents’ souls and their futures, that he had to spend up to eighteen hours a day in the confessional, so great was the demand. Tens of thousands of people came to visit this great pastor, that the French State recognised his eminence by awarding him the medal of the Légion d’Honneur in 1848, but he sold it and gave the money to the poor.

A single person has the tremendous power to re-write stories and re-create lives, as the life of John Mary Vianney shows. It is the power of our love and service, not talents and great abilities that will lead people to God's love. He needs our humility, availabillity and instrumentality, not our great learning and talents.

Prophets Without Honour

Both the readings of today, Jeremiah 26:1-9 and Matthew 13:54-58, speak of the rejection of God's messenger, and thus also the rejection of God's message itself. Prophet Jeremiah preaches in the Temple of the Lord and is threatened with death. Jesus preaches in the synagogue at his hometown, but is met with disbelief and rejection. “This is the carpenter’s son, surely?… Where did the man get it all?” And Jesus ends with the pitiable words showing his disappointment and perhaps discouragement, “A prophet is despised only in his own country and in his own house.” Prophecy and popularity don't dine together, do they?

As parents, very often we don’t see grace in our own kids. The neighbourhood children are always better: they study better, they behave better, etc. But my own children, they always come second in comparison to others. As family members or relatives, very often we don't accept each other. We often mistake someone's goodness for some pretense or hypocrisy. The opinions from our own dear ones are not really valid. As religious and priests, our own community members have nothing really worthwhile to contribute, so no use listening to them. This may be our attitude with regard to our own. So we need to call experts from outside, and only outside views can be accepted. Perhaps these are the ways in which we reject our own prophets, though tiny they be. But eventually we may be even rejecting God's message and his goodness and love for us.

Yet as Christians, we need to get used to rejection and unpopularity. The cross is the standing icon and image of God, showing us that God knows what it's like to be rejected; God is in solidarity with us in the experience of abandonment; God is not watching the suffering from a safe distance. Somehow, believe it or not, God is in the suffering with us. Much, if not most, of our deep suffering comes from our relationships with those who love us. Not from the terrible events I read about in the newspapers or those that I see on television, but from the relationships with the people with whom I share my daily life. Our pain, deep as it is, is connected with specific circumstances. We do not suffer in the abstract. We suffer because someone hurts us at a specific time and in a specific place. Our feelings of rejection, abandonment, and uselessness are rooted in the most concrete events. But, as Jesus himself shows us, suffering is salvific. Be assured today, God suffers with you.

See also the reflection on Mark 6:1-6 of July 8, 2018, https://anthuvanmaria.blogspot.com/2018/07/prophets.html.

Creative Power

“Can I not do to you, House of Israel, as this potter has done, making of the clay another object of whatever sort he pleased?” declares the Lord. “Yes, as the clay is in the potter's hand, so you are in mine, House of Israel.”

Jeremiah 18:1-6, today's first reading, brings before us God's creative will and power in dealing with our lives. God is always good, He will only do what is good for us. We might think that the work of His hands is not agreeable or pleasant to us, as the potter would crush the clay and even change his/her plans midway in creating a good pot. The intention is always to create, to give shape. God's intention for us is the same: to create, to give life and shape to us, to make of us anew. His intention is not to destroy. His actions may seem hard on us, but that is how He will bring the best from within us: as the potter would do.

In this passage we see how Prophet Jeremiah is sent to the potter's house, not to preach a sermon but to observe and learn God's will in the day to day work of a potter. By allowing the things around us to speak to us is a way to allow God to speak to us. By keenly observing our daily activities all around us, we may be surprised to see God's revelation in them all. He is continuously communicating to us; His messages though hidden will be revealed if only we allow them and God into our hearts, not only into our minds.

Do we listen before we speak? Are we able to listen to the silent whispers of our Lord? Are we able to listen to his words in the singing of the birds and the prayer of the frogs? Above all, do we trust in the creative designs of our God?

Treasure of God's Love

“He sells everything he owns and buys it.”

Matthew 13:44-46 has two little parables on the kingdom of God. Both has this common theme: He sells everything he owns and buys it. In the first, the one who finds the treasure, sells everything that he owns in order to buy it. In the second, the merchant who finds the pearl of great value sells everything he owns in order to buy it.

In the first parable, there is a strange but interesting piece of information: "He hides the treasure again." Henri Nouwen has a beautiful reflection on it.

"You have found a treasure: the treasure of God's love. You know now where it is, but you are not ready to own it fully. So many attachments keep pulling you away. If you would fully own your treasure, you must hide it in the field where you found it, go off happily and sell everything you own, and then come back and buy the field."

"You can be truly happy that you have found the treasure. But you should not be so naive as to think that you already own it. Having found the treasure puts you on a new quest for it. The spiritual life is a long and often arduous search for what you have already found. You can seek God only when you have already found God. The desire for God's unconditional love is the fruit of having been touched by that love."

"Because finding the treasure is only the beginning of the search, you have to be careful. If you expose the treasure to others without fully owning it, you might harm yourself and even lose the treasure. A newfound love needs to be nurtured in a quiet intimate space. Overexposure kills it. Finding the treasure without being ready yet to fully own it will make you restless. This is the restlessness of the search for God. It is the way to holiness. It is the road to the kingdom. It is the journey to place where you can rest."