Burdens

“Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest.”

In today’s gospel passage (Mt 11:28-30), Jesus invites us to go to him with our burdens and sorrows. So we should go to him and, indeed, we will find our rest. These are some of the most comforting and consoling words of the gospel. And Jesus means it.

Having met Jesus, people found new meaning in life and new ways of living. He restored their human dignity, helped them to overcome their obstacles, healed them, and forgave them. In short, Jesus freed them from their burdensome pasts, their troublesome lives.

All of us have our share of worries and anxieties. We even feel weighed down by our life at times. What about the sleepless nights that we have endured? What about the restlessness and the tensions that we may carry around? There might be times we carry our burdens without having time even to share them with our family members or close friends. We know life is beautiful, but at the same time life is difficult. The moment we are able to accept both these sides of life, we are able to live in relative peace and joy.

This is what Jesus offers us when he invites us to him. He doesn’t promise the removal of the yoke or of the burden. He rather tells us, “My yoke is easy and my burden light.” This is the effect of Jesus in our lives; he helps us to carry on with our lives joyfully. Amidst our sorrows, we will find joy and happiness.

Tensions are necessary for our growth. But we need to learn to hold them creatively. It seems that so very little is really resolved or solved, settled or answered. We live in the in-between, holding the tensions, discovering and even loving the paradoxes, realizing we ourselves are the contradictions. We ourselves really are the contradictions! The more we accept our condition the better and joyful our lives will be.

In other words, paradoxically, we need some tensions and problems to keep us going. A problem-free life is an illusion. Jesus helps us precisely to accept ourselves, and everything that may come our way—including our sufferings.

We too can have a Jesus-like effect on others who are suffering. If anyone starts to tell you of her worries, what do you do? Do you take time to listen to people in distress? Do you lighten the burdens of others? Do you give them comfort and consolation? Let us shoulder Christ’s yoke, and learn from him. Let us above all learn his gentleness and humility. Let us learn to live in exquisite, terrible humility before reality. How hard, but how sweet and beautiful!

“You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

Love and Detachment

In the first reading, St Paul instructs his readers that the only debt they need to be in, is the debt of mutual love. Love is the summary of all the commandments. By loving our neighbours, we can fulfil the Law. In fact, when you give central place to love, many problems get settled. Love seems to be the only solution for all our problems—personal and social. To fight greed in oneself, one has to increase one's love. To deal with war and violence, we have to certainly use love. To be joyful, we have to open our hearts to love. To be fully human then is to be as loving as possible.

We do receive love, but at times we expect it from all the wrong places. There are few lies that we tell ourselves (and others too perhaps):

People should love me.

People should care for me.

People should not criticize me.

People should help me, support me.

People should respect me.

People should not hate me.

People should not misunderstand me.

People should appreciate me.

People should not judge me.

When you believe the myth that people should care for you, you’re too needy for their love. (This is not love, this is “co-dependency.”) The experience of love can’t come from outside; it can come only from inside you. When people truly love you, you know that they reflect something divine, which is actually inside you.

The only truth that we can be certain about is: God is good. God is love. God cares. God loves me.

Should others love me? Should people care for me? They are not proper questions. I should love myself. I should care for myself. If I receive love from others, that’s good, that’s not merely bonus, but the reflection of God’s love itself. The source of all love is God himself. Human love is only a reflection—though a poor, imperfect reflection—of divine love. So why should I overdepend on human love? I need only to depend on the Lord and His love.

This makes me responsible to give love to others. As I receive love day in and day out, minute after minute, so I need to pass this love to others.

If ever you come across any of the above lies in yourself, for instance, that people should love me. You could turn it around to give at least two true statements: I should love myself. I should love people.

St Paul’s advice in today’s reading is not empty, or haphazard. It comes in the context where he wants our love to be genuine and sincere, without any utilitarian or ulterior motives. And, moreover, we know that mutual love is not co-dependency. Reflecting on Paul’s words, we too could say the same: I realise that I am not loving very well. I am meeting only my needs, which is nothing but “co-dependency.” This kind of love is impure and self-seeking. Perhaps a lot of what we call love today is not love at all.

In the gospel reading, Jesus is even more radical. You need to give first place to God and to loving God. You can’t give that place any human person or thing. As disciple, you have to “deny” yourself and even “hate” your loved ones. Strong words! But they mean you can’t love anything or any person more than God, your Creator.

Also, poverty or detachment is at the very heart of the Gospel. Jesus asks his disciples to carry their cross if they want to follow him. He also says, “None of you can be my disciple unless you give up all your possessions.” God has to be the only treasure of a disciple; any attachment—to material possessions or persons—won’t make you a true or full disciple.

Sinners

"I did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners."

As we celebrate the feast of St Matthew, tax collector turned apostle of Jesus, we could reflect on our Lord's attraction and attachment to sinners. In the Jewish religion at the time of Jesus, either one wasn't a sinner or was a sinner. It might have had a moral connotation, but it certainly signified a social category.

The majority of the people in Palestine of Jesus' time belonged to the lower class, who were poor. All sorts of people belonged to this class, such as orphans and widows, the blind, the crippled, and the mentally ill. Having no other means of livelihood, people with physical and mental handicaps became beggars. To this class also belonged outcasts. One can be an outcast without necessarily being poor economically. Such were tax collectors and sinners. The tax collectors were Jews who collected taxes from fellow Jews for the Roman Empire. They made their living by charging an extra amount. They were considered traitors who became wealthy by collaborating with Roman authorities at the expense of their own people. The sinners who are grouped with the tax collectors were not ordinary sinners. These were people who deliberately and persistently transgressed the requirements of the law. Included in this group would be money-lenders who charged interest on loans advanced to fellow Jews. Also in this group of sinners were prostitutes.

Yet, Jesus apparently associated with such people at dinner parties. The Pharisees charged that Jesus was "a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners" (Luke 7:34). It's not hard to see why the Pharisees and others were upset that Jesus had table fellowship with people who were morally questionable. These individuals were profiting by disobeying the command of God and betraying their own people. They were what the Old Testament calls the wicked, unworthy to be part of the people of God.

What infuriated the Pharisees was that Jesus had accepted this category of the wicked as they were, and was freely having dinner with them without requiring that they first clean up their lives. Jesus' message was not, "Straighten up your life and keep the law." Rather, his message was, "The kingdom of God is yours; you are included." By eating with them, he was extending to them the kingdom of God.

When we read about the protest of the Pharisees, we are quick to condemn them and to side with Jesus. But if Jesus were physically present in our world today, would we as church people be comfortable if he spent his time with cheats and swindlers, thieves and 420-s, LGBTQIA+? Would we be okay if he rejoiced and danced at the Supreme Court's decriminalization of same-sex? Would we not be infuriated if he constantly went to their dinner parties and just occasionally turning up at ours? Jesus seems completely fit for an excommunication case! But that is whom we follow. A man who shattered all boundaries, who loved without boundaries, who broke all possible rules just to befriend a person, just to express God's boundless love and forgiveness!

When we pray the second part of the "Hail Mary": Pray for us "sinners," do we really mean it? Before participating in the Holy Communion we say "I am unworthy." Do we really mean this? Or do we add mental footnotes to our unworthiness: But I am not like that murderer, or that rapist, or that criminal. I am a sinner, but not like "that" sinner.

Pope Francis when asked in his first interview after being elected Pontiff, "Who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?" he told us: “I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech.” Before hearing confessions in St Peter’s Basilica, Pope Francis kneels in confession himself—because one cannot accompany a suffering world without acknowledging one’s own faults.

We are part of the evil that we are fighting against. We are part of the sin that we condemn. There is a certain amount of projection on my part when I am able to see sin outside of me. If we don’t own our own evil, we will always project it elsewhere and attack it there. Our Lord by "eating with sinners" is inviting us to a greater integration and also integrity, which is often a willingness to hold the dark side of things instead of reacting against them, denying them, or anxiously projecting them elsewhere.

Welcome to the communion of sinners!

Staying Close to Jesus

Every three years on this Sunday we hear this brief story of Martha and Mary. We hear it every year in the daily celebration at Mass and usually during the first full week of October.

Maybe we find this event in the lives of Martha and Mary a little confusing. Are we supposed to spend our lives as followers of the Lord sitting at the feet of Jesus? That sounds like the advice we get. Set aside your work and sit down with Jesus. It sounds like a beautiful invitation, and it is. But it’s not the only invitation and example we have.

Abraham and Sarah served the Lord in service and hospitality. The meal was carefully prepared, and the hosts attended to the visitors’ comfort. That was our first reading today. Moses led the people from the slavery in Egypt and gave them the law of God. David was a warrior and a king. Jeremiah spoke words of truth to the powerful and words of hope to the faithful. Paul served the Lord in preaching, prayer, travel, suffering, and writing. We have lots of examples of people of faith who were active in the service of the Lord in the Scriptures. We have lots of examples of great saints in our history who were active is so many things. We have lots of examples of people in our community who share their lives and share their faith serving the poor, teaching those who want to learn, caring for the sick, and welcoming the stranger. With the great examples from the Scriptures, the saints, and our own community, we could be still a little confused about the story of Martha and Mary. What are we supposed to do?

Maybe we can look at it differently. Maybe we can look at Martha and Mary and focus not on what they are doing, but simply on where they are. Martha and Mary are close to Jesus. Serving and sitting, they are close to Jesus. Sitting and serving, Mary and Martha are near the Lord. And whether we are sitting or serving, whether we are busy about many things or focused on only one thing, we are near the Lord Jesus.

In the celebration of the Eucharist, we are close to Jesus. We admit our faults and meet his mercy. We listen to his Word and we offer our prayers. We bring the sacrifice of our lives, the offering of the many things we are busy about, and we unite them to sacrifice of Jesus. And the Lord Jesus gives us the gift of himself. He feeds us with his Body and Blood and strengthens us to sit with him and to serve him. Sitting or serving, we will stay close to Jesus.

There is no comparison between Martha and Mary here. We should not play out Martha against Mary, or Mary against Martha, neither when judging the lives of others nor our own life. The ideal is to combine the two attitudes Mary and Martha symbolize. “Ora et Labora” is the old saying you often see in monasteries and convents: “Pray and Work.”

We need both Martha and Mary; both action and contemplation. The most important word in this is neither action nor even contemplation, but “and.” There is no apostleship (sending out) without discipleship (being with Jesus).

Even in our dynamism, we need to keep a listening or contemplative heart. Jesus never asked Martha to come and sit down with Mary and himself. But only one thing was missing in Martha. She was most likely not present to herself, she was not present to her own feelings of resentment, perhaps her own martyr complex, her complaining attitude. If she was not present to herself, Martha could not be present to her guests in any healing way, and spiritually speaking, she could not even be present to God. Presence is of one piece. How you are present to anything is how you are present to everything. How you are present to anything is how you are present to God, loved ones, strangers, those who are suffering. To repeat, unless you are present to yourself, you can’t be present to others, or to God.

Aren’t we many times like Martha “distracted” with all our serving? We are serving the Lord, but we are distracted. Martha is doing the reasonable, hospitable thing—rushing around, fixing, preparing, and as the text brilliantly says, “distracted with all the serving.”

Jesus doesn’t lose the occasion to affirm Mary, “who sat at his feet listening to him speak.” Mary knows how to be present to him and, presumably, to herself. She understands the one thing that makes all other things happen at a deeper and healing level. Prayer is not one of the ten thousand things, but it is the one thing necessary to see all those ten thousand things. It is the presence that is needed to live those ten thousand things in a healing way.

There should be a balance between word and deed, between talk and action, between prayer and work. Both are important. The two belong together; they are interwoven. Yet, let us not lose sight of the priority of prayer or contemplation. Our actions should rather be an overflow of our contemplation, our communion with God and the world. The quality of our lives should define the quantitative activities of our lives. Otherwise it may be mere restlessness or impatience, and a presence that may not be healing.

Without a Mary’s attitude we can land into an idolatry of words and actions. Without a Mary’s attitude we can be serving ourselves instead of serving Jesus.

That is the one thing necessary! To have a listening heart even in our active moments. To stay close to Jesus. To stay close to Jesus we need both serving and sitting. And let them be done in a healing way.

Faith Journey

Today’s first reading describes the beginning of the long journey out of Egypt to the Promised Land by way of Mount Sinai. The journey began in the city of Rameses in the very north of Egypt, where the Hebrews had been employed virtually as slaves in the Pharaoh’s great construction works. They set off for Succoth which lay to the south-east about half way between Rameses and the Sea of Reeds.

However, they had left in such a rush that the flour they had with them had no time to be leavened, so they made bread with the unleavened flour. They left in such a rush that they did not even have time to prepare any proper food for their journey.

It was the end of a long sojourn in Egypt – estimated by the Bible as 430 years – from the time Joseph had first invited his family to settle there. It was seen as the greatest event in the history of Israel. They had also started on their journey by night so future celebrations of the event were forever more to be observed by a vigil. “This was a night vigil for the Lord, as he led them out of the land of Egypt; so on this same night all the Israelites must keep a vigil for the Lord throughout their generations.”

And, as we have seen, it will be the foreshadowing of a much greater Passover, a more significant vigil to come – the Christian Easter Vigil.

In the gospel reading we see that Jesus has become a figure of controversy. We saw yesterday how he was accused by Pharisees of condoning the breaking of the sabbath on the part of his disciples. Far from apologising, Jesus defended his followers and implied that he himself was greater than the Law. Immediately afterwards he went to a synagogue and, in spite of a challenge about healing on the sabbath, went ahead and cured a physically handicapped man.

At the end of this story, Matthew says, “The Pharisees went out and began to plot against him, discussing how to destroy him.” He was seen as a severe threat to their authority. And that is where our reading begins today.

Jesus was fully aware of their plotting and so he disappeared from sight for a while. We should be clear that Jesus did not go out of his way to confront and attack people. Still less was his behaviour deliberately designed to create trouble for himself. There are people like that; they go out of their way to make trouble for others and for themselves. Jesus never behaved in such a way. He did not want to attack or be attacked by certain people. He did not deliberately engineer his own sufferings and death; quite the contrary. So now, as things get hot for him, he withdraws for a while.

At this point, Matthew, who, we remember is writing for a Jewish audience, shows how Jesus’ behaviour corresponds to a prophecy in the Old Testament. This is something he does a number of times.

The passage is from the prophet Isaiah (42:1-4) and it shows Jesus as full of the Spirit of God campaigning for justice for peoples everywhere. He is the servant whom God has chosen, “my beloved in whom I delight. He will not contend or cry out, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets.” He moves around quietly and, at the same time, is tolerant and understanding of the weak. His behaviour is described beautifully as, “The bruised reed he will not crush; the smouldering wick he will not quench.”

We, too, are called to live and proclaim the Gospel without compromise but to do so without any taint of arrogance or bullying and, at the same time, with patience and understanding for those who are not yet ready to answer Jesus’ call. As the Israelites started their journey towards the promised land with faith, may we also start/continue our faith journey with gentleness, patience and compassion.

The Passover

For today’s first reading we have the passage of the institution of the Passover. We have skipped several chapters of Exodus to come to today’s reading.

The sufferings of the Hebrews became intolerable and eventually God sent what we call the Ten Plagues on Egypt in order to persuade the Pharaoh to let the Hebrews leave. After each one, his heart hardened and he refused to the let God’s people go.

With these plagues we are coming to the great finale and the high point of the Exodus story. Nine plagues inflicted on Egypt have not softened Pharaoh’s heart and “he would not let the Israelites leave his land”.

The Hebrews are now told to prepare for the final catastrophe with which God will strike the Egyptians. The passage consists of formal instructions to a later generation on how to celebrate the great event that is about to take place. The instructions are presented as coming from God to Moses and Aaron.

First, the month in which it is taking place is from now on to be regarded as the first month of the year.  On the 10th day of that month each family is to procure for itself a lamb. If a family is too small to finish one lamb, then it can join with another family and they can share the lamb between them, including perhaps the cost of purchasing it. The lamb must be male, one-year old and free from any blemish. It may be a sheep or a goat.

The animal is to be kept until the 14th day of the month, then it is to be slaughtered in the presence of all the assembled Hebrews. In every house where the lamb is to be eaten, its blood is to be applied on the doorposts and lintel of the house. This, in a way, was the most important requirement.

On the night of the 14th day of the month, the same evening on which it had been slaughtered, the roasted flesh of the lamb will be eaten with unleavened bread and bitter herbs. The animal is to be roasted, not to be eaten raw or boiled, and the whole animal, including head, limbs and internal organs is to be roasted as one.

Nothing must be kept over till the following morning. Anything that is uneaten is to be burnt. It is to be eaten standing, with loins girt (that is, with clothes belted), wearing sandals and with a walking staff in one hand. In other words, the meal is to be taken like people preparing to make a hasty departure.

And it is to be called the Passover of the Lord. On this very night, the Lord would go through Egypt and strike down every first-born in the land, humans and animals alike, and thus pass judgement on all the gods of Egypt. But, because the blood of the lambs has been smeared on all the houses of the Hebrews, when the Lord sees the blood, he will pass over, or skip over, those houses and no harm will come to them. Hence the name of the feast.

Then comes the final instruction to Hebrews of every future generation: “This day shall be a memorial feast for you, which all your generations shall celebrate with pilgrimage to the Lord, as a perpetual institution.” An instruction which Jews continue to observe to this day.

For us Christians all this has great meaning because we see in it a foreshadowing of another Passover which Jesus celebrated with his disciples. It took place at the same time as the celebration of the traditional Jewish Passover but, because of what immediately followed, it was seen as the sacramental anticipation of the new Passover in which Jesus is the Sacrificial Lamb whose blood poured out becomes the instrument of our salvation and liberation.

It is significant that, in the descriptions of the Last Supper, no gospel mentions the lamb as the main dish. There is now a New Passover Lamb – Jesus himself. And in the eating of the Bread and the drinking of the Wine, those present had ‘eaten’ and ‘drunk’ of the Lamb.

Yahweh (YHWH)

Exod 3:11-20

We are still with Moses as he speaks with God at the burning bush.

God has asked Moses to be the leader of his people to rescue them from their life of slavery and hardship in Egypt. And Moses has heard this with some alarm. He feels unsuited to such a huge task. He is wanted by the Pharaoh for the murder of an Egyptian and he had angry words with some of his countrymen, making his acceptance even by his own people not very likely.

But God assures Moses that he will be with him all the way and the confirmation will come when the Hebrews will one day worship their God on Mount Horeb.

However, Moses is still not at ease with the proposed mission. If he tells the people that the God of their fathers has sent him and they ask “What is his name?”, what is he to tell them?

He wants to know what credentials he can bring to justify his being leader and the truth of his message. He asks God to give his name as proof. To know a person’s name was to have a certain power over them; to know the name of a deity was to be sure of a hearing. By being able to give God’s name, Moses would be able to claim a certain authority.

God replies, “I AM who I AM.” And Moses is to say to the people, “I AM sent me to you.” He is to say that it is “the God of your fathers, the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, has sent me to you.” Further, “‘I AM’”is my name forever”.

In a sense God’s words say everything and they say nothing. The Israelites are being given a name they can use but it does not give them, as with pagan gods, a power over God that they cannot have. “I am who I am” can be loosely translated as “I will be whatever I will be”—why worry about my name!

This also means that God is pure and infinite Being. He is not a being, one of the beings, but He is Being itself—existence and life and ground of all being itself. God simply is and everything else that is comes from him. His name is above all names; His nature is supreme to everything that is.

Many Christians think the second commandment (You shall not take the name of God in vain. Exod 20:7) is a prohibition against cussing. But perhaps the real meaning of speaking the name of God “in vain” is to speak God’s name casually or trivially, with a false presumption of understanding the Mystery—as if we knew what we were talking about!

The phrase ‘I am who I am’ apparently is the source of the word ‘Yahweh’, also written as YHWH, the proper personal name of the God of Israel. Many Jewish people concluded that the name of God should not be spoken at all. The Sacred Tetragrammaton, YHWH, was not even to be pronounced with the lips! Out of reverence this name was not pronounced; the term ‘Adonai’ (my Lord) was used as a substitute. In fact, vocalizing the four consonants does not involve closing the mouth. Jews know that God’s name was not pronounceable but only breathable: YH on the captured in-breath, and WH on the offered out-breath!

God’s eternal mystery cannot be captured or controlled, but only received and shared as freely as the breath itself—the thing we have done since the moment we were born and will one day cease to do in this body. God is as available and accessible as our breath itself. Jesus breathes the Spirit into us as the very air of life (see John 20:22)! Our job is simply to both receive and give this life-breath. We cannot only inhale, and we cannot only exhale. We must breathe in and out, accept and let go.

Today let us take several minutes to pause and breathe mindfully, surrendering to the mystery of wordless air, the sustainer of life. Part your lips; relax jaw and tongue. Hear the air flow in and out of your body:

Inhale: yh

Exhale: wh

Let your breathing in and out, for the rest of your life, be your prayer to—and from—such a living God, an utterly shared God. You will not need to prove it to anybody else, nor can you. Just keep breathing with full consciousness and without resistance, and you will know what you need to know.

Let this deep breath (in and out) be a way to know our God ever more deeply and become closer to Him. He is really the only thing (being) that matters.

Moses

Having heard the difficult situation in which the Hebrews were living in Egypt, we are now introduced to the hero of the story of Exodus in our first reading.

As all male children were to be drowned at birth, the baby – who does not yet have a name – was hidden by his mother for three months. However, the bigger he grew the more difficult it would be to hide him, so she took the drastic step of waterproofing a basket and sent it floating down the river.

In a clearly providential happening, the Pharaoh’s daughter and her attendants had gone to the river to bathe. The floating child is found and immediately recognised as a Hebrew and she was full of pity for the abandoned baby. The boy is eventually adopted by Pharaoh’s daughter. This probably happened when the child was weaned or a little later. He was given the name Moses because, as Pharaoh’s daughter said, “I drew him out of the water.” Actually, ‘Moses’ in Hebrew is mosheh but the word translated ‘draw out’ is mashah. The words are not linguistically connected and it is rather a play on words.

Then we are suddenly brought to a time when Moses was already a grown man. Once on seeing an Egyptian strike a Hebrew, he killed the man and buried the body, hoping that he had not been seen.

Later he scolded two Hebrews who were fighting among themselves, telling them that was no way to win their freedom. They, however, turned on him and asked if he was going to kill them in the same way he had killed the Egyptian. Moses, aware that his secret was out and that it had even reached the Pharaoh’s ears, fled into hiding and stayed in the land of Midian. He becomes a fugitive from the law.

Later, Moses would indeed liberate his people but in a very different and unexpected way.

Let us today ask ourselves what mission we have been given by God as our contribution to building the Kingdom. And, if, like Moses, we are only too conscious of our shortcomings, let us remember that one of the greatest prophets of Israel was a man who had committed murder, even if that murder was in defence of fellow-Hebrews. God, unlike society, does not look at our past but at our present and future potential. He can transform us in order to make us transforming agents in the society and the church.

St Bonaventure

Bonaventure, the son of a medical doctor, was born in 1221 at Bagnoreggio, near Orvieto (Italy). He became a Franciscan in 1243. His intellectual gifts were soon recognized and he was sent to Paris to study under Alexander of Hales. In 1248 he received his licence to teach and in 1253 he became Master of the Franciscan school at Paris. His work _The Journey of the Mind to God_ has become an enduring classic.

In 1257, at the early age of 36, he was elected Minister General (i.e., Superior General) of the Franciscan Order. He has been called the second founder of the Franciscan Order. The Franciscans were coming under criticism at the time as a result of a huge increase in numbers, poor organisation attributed to Francis of Assisi with the resulting divisions into factions, with each one claiming to be faithful to the Founder.

While strongly defending the ideals of Francis, Bonaventure insisted, against Francis, on the need for study, on having libraries and proper buildings. He approved of the Friars studying and teaching in universities. He saw the Franciscan role as complementing the work of the diocesan clergy through preaching and spiritual direction. The clergy of the day were often poorly educated and lacking in spirituality.

Within the Franciscans he urged a middle way. He opposed the so-called ‘Spirituals’ who promoted material poverty above all as being the true teaching of Francis. At the same time, his own ideals of a simple life of frugal poverty, hard work and detachment from the rich as well as from riches were a reality in his own life. He wrote a Life of Francis, which was approved by the Chapter of 1266 as the only officially authorised version.

As Minister General he visited Italy, France, Germany, and England. In 1265 he was nominated Archbishop of York by Pope Clement IV but declined the honour. However, in 1273 he was made Cardinal-Bishop of Albano by Pope Gregory X, with a command not to refuse. When the papal messengers called on him, he was washing dishes in the Mugello friary (near Florence). He asked them to wait until he had finished. 

He played a prominent role in the Council of Lyons which was called to bring about a reunion with the Eastern churches. Thomas Aquinas died on his way to the same council. A temporary reunion of the churches was achieved and Bonaventure preached at the Mass of reconciliation. However, he did not live to see Constantinople reject the reunion.

He died on 15 July 1274 at the age of fifty-two.

His achievements in theology and administration should not allow one to forget dominant traits noted by his contemporaries: a gentle courtesy, compassion, and availability. 

Bonaventure was canonised by Pope Sixtus IV in 1482 and declared a Doctor of the Church in 1588. He is often called the Seraphic Doctor.

For Bonaventure, everything is a footprint and a fingerprint revealing the nature of God. And God is the One whose centre is everywhere and whose circumference is nowhere. (Try to take a long, loving, and lingering look at something—at anything!) God exists in an unrestricted way in everything. We need to learn to find God in everything and everyone. Perhaps that’s one way to be convinced of God and His love which is without conditions and without expectations. God loves things by “becoming” them: by becoming fully present in them! He can be found in the darkest of our moments, and in the lowest of our feelings. As Jesus teaches us, the only measure and criterion for spiritual things is God’s infinite compassion and never our ability to understand it or perfectly respond to it.

The Good Samaritan

The parable of the Good Samaritan is one of our Lord’s best known short stories. A story that is larger than life, so much so that Jesus himself is called the Good Samaritan. Every Christian needs to be a good Samaritan. He—the good Samaritan—teaches us how to be Christians, good Christians. A stranger teaches us how to be a good neighbour! This parable from Luke’s gospel is truly a treasure, from which we can draw many life lessons for us.

The lawyer’s question “Who is my neighbour?” doesn’t make sense for Jesus. But how to be a neighbour, that’s the real question. Jesus reframes the question thus: “Which of these three, do you think, proved himself a neighbour to the man who fell into the brigands’ hands?” We can define only the subject of love, not the object.

The priest and the Levite (=an assistant in the Temple) were not bad people, but they thought they were good people because they were obedient to the Law. They were not supposed touch a corpse. If someone is half dead, s/he would realistically seem a corpse. Thus these two characters of the priest and the Levite were possibly afraid to approach the injured man because they thought he was already dead and consequently would have to ritually defile themselves. They were law-abiding people, but failed to extend their help to the one who was almost dead. They were concerned about themselves not getting defiled, or just being “pure” in a legal sense. Was he dead or alive? They were not concerned about the person lying there. Were they selfish or self-righteous? Perhaps self-righteousness is much more treacherous than selfishness.

Jesus compares the above failure of the ministers of God to the unselfishness of the hated Samartian, who is able to see the unlimited nature of the duty of love. The Samaritan man’s love and compassion is the starting point, which leads him to do what is necessary and appropriate for the injured person. Jesus’ concern therefore is not moral or legal, but mystical. We cannot approach reality with readymade solutions and answers (of laws), but accept reality as it is and encounter God in it. Only there we can be a true neighbour to anyone and everyone.

Have we faced any situation where we could obey the law but be disobedient to God? Have we blindly applied rules without having any consideration or compassion towards some people? In the name of religion and God, have we done hateful things instead of putting love as the centre of our lives? The challenge of today’s parable is real and practical. It is not about debating and understanding the meaning of law or eternal life but about “doing,” which has its source in compassion itself.

If we value our discussion and reflection of the above parable, then it has to be proved simply by listening to Jesus telling the lawyer and us, “Go and do likewise.” It should inspire us to take up Christ’s challenge of “doing” and “acting” as the Good Samaritan did and thus proved a worthy neighbour.

Divine Blessings

We conclude our readings from the book of Genesis today. We hear Jacob giving his final instructions before his death. He wants to be buried close to his ancestors, Abraham and Isaac with their wives.

With the death of Jacob, the sons were full of trepidation that Joseph would now want to settle his accounts with his brothers for all they had done to him. They pre-empted any vengeful action by sending Joseph a message.

They quoted their father as telling them to go to Joseph and beg forgiveness for all the wrong they had done to him. “We beg you, forgive the crime of the servants of your father’s God.” Once again, Joseph weeps on the receiving their message.

They prostrated themselves before him and expressed their readiness to be his slaves. They need not have worried. Their prostration is another example of the prophetic dream which Joseph had shared with his brothers many years previously. And, ironically, in times to come, the Israelites will be reduced to virtual slavery in Egypt and this will trigger the Exodus.

They did not reckon with their brother; Joseph was a much bigger man than they. “Do not be afraid; is it for me to put myself in God’s place?”

He then tells them that all the evil they planned against him has, in God’s plan, been turned to good and has resulted in the liberation of many people. Joseph then promises to provide for them and all their dependants. It was now the brothers’ turn to be deeply touched by the magnanimity of someone who could, with some justification, have made things very nasty for them. We see here a clear pre-figuring of the teaching and example of Jesus later on. His teaching on the love of enemies, turning the other cheek and forgiving seventy times seven.

This may well be said to be the central lesson of the whole Joseph story. A lesson which we can apply to unpleasant experiences in our own lives. As Paul says, “Everything works together for the good of those who love God.” And probably it is only when we love God that we can understand the place of the evil and the tragic in our lives.

From now on, Joseph stays with his own family and lives to be 110 years old, long enough to see many of his grandchildren.

It is now his time to leave the world. He tells his brothers he is confident that God will look kindly on them and, in time, bring them back from Egypt to the land he had promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob in perpetuity.

And finally he asks his brothers to swear an oath that his bones be taken back to be buried with his fathers. This will not in fact happen until centuries later when Moses, mindful of Joseph’s last wish, will take Joseph’s bones with him as the Israelites begin their long trek to the Promised Land (Exod 13:19). Joseph’s bones were eventually “buried at Shechem in the tract of land that Jacob bought… from the sons of Hamor” (Jos 24:32; see Gen 33:19).

The last verse of Genesis, which is not in our reading, says: “And Joseph died, being 110 years old; he was embalmed and placed in a coffin in Egypt.” For the Egyptians the number 110 was seen as the perfect life span and would signify divine blessings on Joseph.

Note too that the very last word of the book is “Egypt” and is the setting for the opening of the next book, the Exodus, and the next stage in the history of God’s People. In the coming weeks we will be reading passages from that great saga.

God’s Designs

In today’s first reading we see Israel (Jacob’s new name) setting out from his home in Hebron to Egypt with all his family members and all his possessions.

Before leaving Canaan he offers sacrifice to the God of his father Isaac at Beer-Sheba, which lay to the west of the southern end of the Dead Seas and south of Hebron on the road to Egypt. Here God speaks to Jacob in a dream. It is the last of God’s appearances to the patriarchs. He commands Jacob to go down to Egypt just as he had commanded Abraham to set out for Canaan. The move is clearly presented as God’s will and not just a family decision.

God promises Jacob his protection and tells him not to be afraid to go down to Egypt. There he will make Jacob and his descendants into a great nation. “I myself will go down to Egypt with you.” He also promises to bring Israel back to his ancestral land.

And there is a promise that, in death, it will be Joseph, the son he thought he would never see again, who will close Jacob’s eyes.

Jacob’s sons, together with their wives and children come to take their father to Egypt in wagons provided by the Pharaoh. The whole family – brothers, wives, children, grandchildren all move to Egypt to settle there.

On the way, Judah, the eldest son, goes ahead to arrange that Joseph should meet his father at Goshen. Joseph, riding in his official chariot, goes to meet his father. One can imagine the feelings of the old man as he saw Joseph, the son he thought was long dead, arriving in a magnificent chariot befitting his rank.

Not surprisingly, it is a very emotional meeting. Joseph throws his arms around his father’s neck and weeps for a long time on his shoulder. Jacob says to his long-lost son: “Now I can die, now that I have seen you again, and seen you still alive.”

Later, Jacob and some of his sons will be introduced to the Pharaoh and are invited to settle in Goshen, which was situated in the north-east part of the Nile Delta, a place very suitable for sheep-grazing. Jacob’s sons were shepherds.

Once again we see how what originally seemed like a certain tragedy turn out to be a source of blessing for so many. It may help us to take a second look at events in our lives in which we wondered where God was present. To see God’s designs in our life, we may have to wait. We need patience and faith. God loves to write our life story even with crooked lines.

St Benedict, Abbot

Benedict of Nursia (480-547) known as the Father of Western monasticism had a huge influence in his own time and in succeeding centuries. His monks were a source of stability in the highly disordered state of Europe following the collapse of the Roman Empire and the invasions of the northern tribes (Vandals, Huns, etc.) and laid the ground for the emergence of the cultural wealth of the Renaissance from the 12th century onwards.

Benedict was born about 480, the son of a Roman noble from Nursia (modern Norcia, in Umbria) and it is believed he was a twin sibling of St Scholastica. Benedict began studies in Rome but left before completing them to become a hermit in Subiaco. Over a period of three years in solitude, Benedict matured both in mind and character, in knowledge of himself and of his fellow-men. At the same time he became deeply respected by people in the neighbourhood, so that when the abbot of a nearby monastery died, the monks begged him to be their abbot. Although he did not agree with their lifestyle, he finally accepted. However, it did not work, so much so that the monks tried to poison him and he went back to his hermit’s cave. The legend is that they tried to poison his drink but, when he blessed the cup, it shattered. They then tried to kill him with poisoned bread but, when he blessed it, a raven came and snatched it away. Many other miracles were attributed to him and many people came to him for direction. So he built 12 monasteries each with a superior and 12 monks. He himself lived in a 13th with some whom he thought were more promising. Benedict, however, was the father or abbot of all the groups.

Benedict later left for Monte Cassino, near Naples, where he drew up the final version of his Rule. This contained much of the traditional monastic teaching of earlier monks like Cassian, Basil and probably also the so-called Rule of the Master, though much modified by Benedict. His vision was a life characterized by prudence and moderation rather than severe asceticism and lived within a framework of authority, obedience, stability, and community life. ‘Stability’ meant that a monk would generally stay permanently in the monastery which he had joined. It was a way of life which was complete, well-ordered and practical. The monk’s day was taken up with liturgical prayer, complemented by sacred reading and manual work of various kinds which took care of the community’s needs.

Benedict was not a priest and there is no evidence that he intended to found a religious order. His principal goal and achievement was to write a Rule or way of life. Today’s Order of St Benedict (OSB) is of later origin and not a “religious order” as commonly understood but rather a confederation of congregations into which the traditionally independent Benedictine abbeys have affiliated themselves for the purpose of representing their mutual interests, without however losing any of their autonomy. Benedict’s own personality is reflected in his description of the kind of person the abbot should be: wise, discreet, flexible, learned in the law of God, but also a spiritual father to his community.

Because of its inner qualities and the endorsement it received from secular rulers and other founders of religious institutes, Benedict’s Rule became the standard monastic code in the early Middle Ages. Because of it flexibility, it could be adapted to the different needs of society in different places. In a world of civil turmoil with the break-up of the Roman Empire, it was the monasteries which became centres of learning, agriculture, hospitality, and medicine in a way which Benedict himself could never have imagined.

Benedict spent the rest of his life realising the ideal of monasticism contained in his rule. He died at Monte Cassino, Italy, according to tradition, on 21 March 547.

He was named protector of Europe by Pope Paul VI in 1964. His feast day, previously 21st March, was moved in 1969 to 11th July, a date on which his feast had been celebrated in several places.

Together with Saints Cyril and Methodius, Catherine of Siena, Bridget of Sweden, and Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein) Benedict was declared a Patron of Europe by Pope John Paul II in 1999).

Heaven is near

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus summons his inner circle of twelve disciples. Moreover, these twelve disciples are now called apostles.

A disciple is a follower, someone who learns from a teacher and assimilates that teaching into his own life. An apostle is someone who is sent out on a mission, someone who is deputed to disseminate the teaching of the master to others.

The two roles are complementary. All of us who are called to be disciples are also expected to be apostles, actively sharing our faith with others.

Applied to the twelve men the word ‘apostle’ does have a special sense. They would become, so to speak, the pillars or foundations on which the new Church would be built, with Peter as their leader. They would have the special role of handing on and interpreting the tradition they had received from Jesus, a role which in turn they handed on to what we now call the bishops, with the pope, as leader and spokesperson.

Later on, Paul as well as Barnabas would be added to their number, and Matthias would be chosen to replace the betrayer Judas. In fact, it is interesting to see the mixed bunch of people that Jesus chose. We know nearly nothing about most of them but they were for the most part simple people, some of them definitely uneducated and perhaps even illiterate. And yet we see the extraordinary results they produced and the unstoppable movement they set in motion. The only explanation is that it was ultimately the work of God through the Holy Spirit.

The first instructions they are given are to confine their activities to their own people. They are not to go to pagans at this stage or even to the Samaritans. As the heirs to the covenant and as God’s people, the Jews are to be the first to be invited to follow the Messiah and experience his saving power. And their proclamation is the same one that Jesus gave at the outset of his public preaching: “The Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” That is, heaven is near.

There are times in our lives when all we know is the bad news. We feel that heaven is just so far away. Our woundedness and sinful brokenness can contribute to this feeling. But today’s gospel gives the true picture: that God is near, that heaven is near. This is the good news that we need to hear again and again. Heaven is near and one just has to turn around and enter it. We need to turn from our old idea about God, sin, and hell, and embrace the new revelation of God manifested in Jesus Christ. The good news is that our sins are forgiven, and our woundedness is healed. We can always celebrate that in our confession. We are safe. No more fear. No more doubt.

And the merciful surprise is this: God loves you precisely in your woundedness and sinfulness. He loves you precisely in your obstinate unworthiness. The very blocks of my life can become my gifts. Our woundedness and brokenness can become true gifts. Whatever be our woundedness and brokenness, they could become true spaces of grace. God can touch us, and reveal Himself precisely in our woundedness and brokenness. God can resurrect our deaths, and give new life to us.

Wrestling with God

We continue to read our story of Jacob, and today read about an experience even stranger than the vision of the ladder going up to heaven.

Jacob has been preparing to meet with his estranged brother Esau. He was not at all sure what kind of meeting it was going to be with the brother whom he had cheated out of his birth-right. Each one was now rich and powerful in his own domain.

As our reading opens we are told that Jacob takes his two wives (Rachel and Leah), his two slave-girls and his 11 sons (the youngest, Benjamin, has not been born yet), together with all his possessions, across the River Jabbok to a safer place while he stays behind alone.

Jacob is now alone and then, during the whole night until dawn, he wrestles with an unknown man. As is clear later on, this ‘man’ is a messenger of the Lord, if not the Lord himself, in human form.

Jacob has struggled all his life to prevail, first with Esau, then with Laban, his uncle who is the father of his wife, Rachel. Now, as he is about to re-enter Canaan, he is shown that it is with God that he must “wrestle.” It is God who holds his destiny in his hands.

When the ‘man’ sees that Jacob is getting the upper hand, he strikes Jacob on the hip and dislocates it. God came to him in such a form that Jacob could wrestle with him successfully, yet he also showed Jacob that he could disable him at will.

With the coming of morning the stranger says, “Let me go, for day is breaking.” But Jacob will not let the man go without receiving his blessing. He seems to suspect the divine origin of his opponent. There is also an indication that Jacob is still having problems over their father’s blessing which he got by deceit. He wants now a direct blessing from God himself.

“What is your name?” asks the stranger. “Jacob” is the reply. “Your name shall no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have been strong against God, you shall prevail against humans.” The probable meaning of the word Israel is “May God show his strength” but here it is understood as “He has been strong against God.” At that very moment Jacob reaches full maturity as father and patriarch, his descendants acquire their national name. Later, Israel’s encounters with God will constantly entail intense struggle, with divine and human alike.

Jacob then asks the stranger his name but the only answer he gets is, “Why do you ask my name?” Given that the stranger is God himself, it is wrong to ask such a question and, in any case, it cannot be answered. The name of Yahweh could not be uttered by any observant Israelite. But the man does give Jacob his blessing. Henceforth all who bear Israel’s name will have a claim on God and His blessing.

Jacob, however, is now well aware of who the stranger is: “I have seen God face to face and have survived.” In the Hebrew Testament, to look upon the face of God spells instant death, except by special privilege. So Jacob calls the place, where he had his experience with the stranger, Peniel, which means ‘face of God’.

Then he leaves, limping because of his damaged hip, suggesting a maturing in his relationship with God, who is the real Lord of his life.

This enigmatic story, speaking of a physical struggle or wrestling with God, from which Jacob seems to emerge victor, is a parable for our spiritual encounter with God. It serves as an image of the spiritual combat that we need to undertake, and also as an icon of the value of persevering prayer. It was an advice that Jesus himself gave and also St Paul. Perseverance in prayer is a total must.

As Jacob recognises the supernatural character of his adversary and extorts a blessing from him, we too need to hold fast to God and “force” from him a blessing. Ours too will be fateful encounter with God: it will injure us for life, we may have to limp all our life with this “God-bias.” But perhaps that is what spiritual maturity is all about! If you have not wrestled with God, you are not mature yet.

A Touch

In the gospel reading we see the faith of two persons: one (the official of the synagogue) knows that the touch of Jesus can give life, and the other (the woman with the haemorrhage) knows that touching Jesus will give healing. “Even if I only touch his cloak I shall be saved.” Even a fearful touch of a broken woman was sufficient. She is healed from her pain and suffering. She is healed from her haemorrhage of 12 long years.

Our woundedness and brokenness can become true gifts. Whatever be our woundedness and brokenness, they could become true spaces of grace. That is, precisely in our woundedness and brokenness God can touch us, and reveal Himself. God can resurrect our deaths, and give new life to us.

When we feel we have a hardened heart, a mummified heart, we should be afraid of this. This is the death of the heart. But neither sin nor the mummified heart is ever the last word with Jesus, because he has brought us the infinite mercy of the Father. And even if we have hit rock bottom, his tender and strong voice reaches us: “I say to you, arise!”

Either Jesus runs into us or we run into Jesus. Either we touch him or he touches us, the result is the same. The result is one of healing and fullness of life. Every Christian needs to have this experience. Every Christian needs to have this personal touch of Jesus, a personal experience of Jesus.

Every true Christian has a “conversion experience,” a time and place to which God led them to the revelation of the truth of the role and person of Jesus Christ. It is about moving from an intellectual knowledge about God, to have a personal experience and touch of God.

In today’s first reading we have the passage about Jacob’s ladder. Although one of the most familiar stories in the Old Testament, Jacob’s ladder seems to be the first documented “conversion experience” in the Bible. It is the dream that Jacob had where he saw angels ascending and descending on a stairway which joined the heavens and the earth. In this vision, Jacob had a personal encounter with God that established and defined a relationship that changed his life forever.

After his dream, Jacob exclaims: “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was unaware of it. How awesome is this place! This is none other than the house of God; this is the gate of heaven!” Our God-experience can lead us to such a deep realization. That God has been here always: an experience that throws wide open the gate of heaven here and now!

God-encounter or conversion is a movement from one’s mind to one’s heart. It is about operating from the heart and not from the mind. In fact, underlying all Jesus’ teaching is a clarion call to a radical shift in consciousness. It is an invitation to a transformation of consciousness. Instead of operating from our egos, our Lord is inviting us to live from our hearts. Only then can we understand the universe of divine abundance.

Happiness and Peace

If good news is really good, what is really good about it? We have a sample or two in today’s Sunday liturgy. Every human person is searching for happiness and peace. These seem to be the basic vocation of being human. God’s basic message for humans is the same: it is one of peace, joy and satisfaction in this world. Our achievements and possessions cannot give these, only our relationship with God.

In this first reading we have God’s promise: “As a mother comforts her child, so will I comfort you.” This passage compares Jerusalem to a mother nursing her infant. The image is one of peace, nourishment, and companionship. It also portrays what may be the most fulfilling and strongest of human relationships. The child plays and feels his or her mother’s embrace. The mother gives comfort and strength. The imagery conveys a simple message and yet powerful image: God’s people will be comforted, and they will flourish in Jerusalem. 

We Christians, too, are promised a form of Jerusalem, in fact if not in name. A Jerusalem for us is a place of utter safety and well-being. We are all entitled, for that is God’s wish for each person. We may find our Jerusalems in healthy relationships, often in loving families. We may find it in serving others, in easing the pain and hunger of persons less fortunate than ourselves. When we find our Jerusalems, we can help the world to see this real good and joyful news of God.

“The kingdom of God is at hand for you.” This is another message of joy and peace that God wants to give us today through our gospel reading.

In the reading, Jesus instructs the disciples to carry nothing, to go barefoot and to speak to no one on the way. They must offer peace and stay where they are welcomed. They are to heal the sick and announce the kingdom of God. If they are rejected anywhere, they must leave decisively. When the disciples return, Jesus assures them that the real value of their work is not in miraculous powers, but in the very act of going before him to announce his coming.

It is neither necessary nor appropriate for today’s Christians to follow to the letter Luke’s idealized account of Jesus’ missionary instructions. We are, however, responsible for announcing Jesus’ arrival, as well as the arrival of the kingdom of God. We cannot, and ought not, try to escape this most basic responsibility, for to do so would be to lose our identity. We need to find our own ways of announcing the kingdom. We must focus on the single purpose of announcing Jesus. We must offer genuine peace. We must heal, and we must point beyond ourselves to God, the source of all healing.

God is the source of all happiness and peace.

“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.” (Thomas Merton)

Our Stories

In today’s first reading we see that before Isaac dies he wants to give his final, solemn blessing to his heir. And whoever gets that blessing will be the heir. Rebekah, the mother, happens to overhear this conversation between Isaac and Esau, the firstborn. She is not happy because she wants the blessing to go to Jacob, her favourite son. She makes a plan to deceive her husband and reveals it to Jacob. Eventually, Jacob (helped by his mother Rebekah) deceives his father and his twin brother Esau to receive the blessing.

What Jacob did in deceiving his father and thereby cheating Esau out of Isaac’s deathbed blessing is condemned as blameworthy. But the lie or the deception that we have read today mysteriously serves God’s purpose; the free divine choice preferred Jacob to Esau.

This may not be an edifying story, but that may be well be our own stories. There may be many stories that are not so edifying in our lives. There may be occasions in our lives that have not been honest or truthful. But God can use all these occasions for his own glory. They can mysteriously serve God’s purpose if only we allow God into the picture.

Today’s gospel reading reports that John’s disciples wanted to know why Jesus was not fasting. Because, in their book, a Jew fasted and a pious Jew fasted more often. But Jesus did not measure religion by external actions like fasting or keeping other requirements of the law (such as washing hands before eating, etc). For him religion was a matter of the inner spirit as we see in his deeper interpretations of the Law during the Sermon on the Mount.

New wine is meant for new wineskins, and it is not meant for old wineskins. Merely changing the externals is like putting new wine into old wineskins. That would be a disaster! It would burst the wineskins, and the wine would be wasted.

Jesus’ teachings were like new wine or new cloth. They could not be fitted into old containers. People like the Pharisees were trying to fit Jesus’ teaching and his ideas into their ways of thinking. It would not work.

We are called today to change our attitudes, not merely the external observances. Without inner change our various prayer practices and devotions will not be useful or fruitful. Let us put more life, more love and more Jesus into our personal stories.

Tax Collectors and Sinners

“Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

Today’s gospel reading is on the call of St Matthew, the tax collector—or an outcast. The majority of the people in Palestine of Jesus’ time belonged to the lower class, who were poor. All sorts of people belonged to this class, such as orphans and widows, the blind, the crippled, and the mentally ill. Having no other means of livelihood, people with physical and mental handicaps became beggars. To this class also belonged outcasts. One can be an outcast without necessarily being poor economically. Such were tax collectors and sinners.

The tax collectors were Jews who collected taxes from fellow Jews for the Roman Empire. They made their living by charging an extra amount. They were considered traitors who became wealthy by collaborating with Roman authorities at the expense of their own people. The sinners who are grouped with the tax collectors were not ordinary sinners. These were people who deliberately and persistently transgressed the requirements of the law. Included in this group were money-lenders who charged interest on loans advanced to fellow Jews. Also in this group of sinners were prostitutes.

Yet, Jesus clearly associated with such people at dinner parties. It seems that Jesus was not worried about his image or good name—he identified himself with the fellowship of sinners, tax collectors and prostitutes. The Pharisees charged that Jesus was “a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Lk 7:34). It’s not hard to see why the Pharisees and others were upset that Jesus had table fellowship with people who were morally questionable. These individuals were profiting by disobeying the command of God and betraying their own people. They were what the Old Testament calls the wicked, unworthy to be part of the people of God.

What infuriated the Pharisees was that Jesus had accepted this category of the wicked as they were, and was freely having dinner with them without requiring that they first clean up their lives. Jesus’ message was not, “Straighten up your life and keep the law.” Rather, his message was, “The kingdom of God is yours; you are included.” By eating with them, he was extending to them the kingdom of God. “God loves you as you are!”

When we read about the protest of the Pharisees, we are quick to condemn them and to side with Jesus. But if Jesus were physically present in our world today, would we as church people be comfortable if he spent his time with cheats and swindlers, thieves and 420-s, LGBTQIA+? Would we not be infuriated if he constantly went to their dinner parties and just occasionally turning up at ours? Jesus seems completely fit for an excommunication case! But that is whom we follow. A man who shattered all boundaries, who loved without boundaries, who broke or bent all possible rules just to befriend a person, just to extend God’s boundless love and forgiveness!

When we pray the second part of the “Hail Mary”: Pray for us “sinners,” do we really mean it? Before participating in the Holy Communion we say “I am unworthy.” Do we really mean this? Or do we add mental footnotes to our unworthiness: But I am not like that murderer, or that rapist, or that criminal. I am a sinner, but not like “that” sinner.

Pope Francis when asked in his first interview after being elected Pontiff, “Who is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?” he told us: “I am a sinner. This is the most accurate definition. It is not a figure of speech.” Before hearing confessions in St Peter’s Basilica, Pope Francis kneels in confession himself—because one cannot accompany a suffering world without acknowledging one’s own faults.

We are part of the evil that we are fighting against. We are part of the sin that we condemn. There is a certain amount of projection on my part when I am able to see sin outside of me. If we don’t own our own evil, we will always project it elsewhere and attack it there. Our Lord by “eating with sinners” is inviting us to a greater integration and also integrity, which is often a willingness to hold the dark side of things instead of reacting against them, denying them, or anxiously projecting them elsewhere.

“I did not come to call the virtuous, but sinners.”

Welcome to the communion of sinners!

Sacrifice

In the Bible, this is the first time that love is mentioned by name: “Take now your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love and go to the land of Moriah and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains I shall point out to you.” Love is given a name in the moment of sacrifice, at the moment in which we face the terrifying possibility of loss. Suffering is the moment when love appears. The supreme moment of love converges with the supreme moment of sacrifice.

Love and suffering are intimately linked. Without sacrifice or suffering, there can be no true love. Isn’t this why Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.”

We know that several times God promised Abraham that he would be the father of a great people. And now he is asked to offer his only legitimate son—the only link with that promised future—as a holocaust to God. It just did not make any sense at all.

But Abraham had committed himself by covenant to be obedient to the Lord and had consecrated his son Isaac to the Lord by circumcision. The Lord put his servant’s faith and loyalty to the supreme test, thereby instructing Abraham, Isaac and their descendants as to the kind of total consecration the Lord’s covenant requires. The test also foreshadowed the perfect consecration in sacrifice that another offspring of Abraham would undergo in order to wholly consecrate Abraham and his spiritual descendants (i.e. all of us) to God and to fulfil the covenant promises.

Abraham is told to take “his only son, Isaac, whom you love” and to offer him as a burnt offering (holocaust) on a mountain in the land of Moriah. We see Abraham accepting God’s injunction without a word of protest. This is clearly intended to be another example of his tremendous faith and trust in God’s word.

Rising early in the morning, he saddled his donkey and took Isaac together with two of his young men. And, before setting out, he also cut some wood for the sacrifice. It was on the third day of travelling that Abraham saw the place of sacrifice in the distance. He told the young men to remain behind with the donkey, while Abraham and Isaac went to the mountain to worship.

He then laid the wood for the sacrifice on the shoulders of his son, while he himself carried the fire and the knife and then they proceeded to the place of sacrifice. As they walked, Isaac spoke to his father. “We have the fire and the wood but where is the lamb for the offering?” Abraham replied that God himself would provide the sacrificial lamb.

On reaching the place of sacrifice, Abraham built an altar and put the wood on it. He bound his son and laid him on the altar on top of the wood. The future Lamb of God would be sacrificed on wood also.

Just as Abraham raised his knife to kill his son, an angel from heaven called him by name. Speaking in the name of God he said: “Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him; for now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your only son, from me.”

Abraham then saw a ram caught in a nearby thicket by its horns. He took the ram and sacrificed it instead of his son. And Abraham called the place “The Lord will provide”, a reference to the answer Abraham gave to his son earlier on about providing a lamb for the sacrifice. It became a proverbial saying: “On the mount of the Lord it shall be provided.” This saying was particularly meaningful if the “mount” was to be identified with the hill of Zion on which the Temple was later built.

There then comes a solemn blessing from the Lord: Because Abraham was ready to sacrifice his only son, he will be especially blessed.

We need to reflect on the extent of our faith and trust in God. Are we ready to give God anything he asks for, knowing that whatever he asks is for our good? In my life now, what would I find it most difficult to give up if God asked me?

St Thomas, Apostle of India

Today we celebrate the solemnity of St Thomas, the Apostle of India. He was one of the twelve disciples of Jesus, who was an eyewitness to the many of the happenings during the public life and ministry of Jesus. But more importantly he becomes a minister of the Word of God and Sacrament that Jesus was, and took the good news even to the ends of the earth.

Even from the gospels we know very little about St Thomas also called the Didymus (the Twin). When Jesus said He was returning to Judea to visit His sick friend Lazarus, Thomas immediately exhorted the other Apostles to accompany Him on the trip which involved certain danger and possible death because of the mounting hostility of the authorities. He said, “Come let us go and die with him.”

At the Last Supper, when Christ told His disciples that He was going to prepare a place for them to which they also might come because they knew both the place and the way, Thomas pleaded that they did not understand and received the beautiful assurance that Christ is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

St Thomas is best known for his role in verifying the Resurrection of his Master. Thomas’ unwillingness to believe that the other Apostles had seen their risen Lord on the first Easter Sunday earned him the title of “doubting Thomas.”

Eight days later, on Christ’s second apparition, Thomas was gently rebuked for his skepticism and furnished with the evidence he had demanded - seeing in Christ’s hands the point of the nails. Thomas even put his fingers in the nail holes and his hand into Christ’s side. After verifying the wounds were true, St. Thomas became convinced of the reality of the Resurrection and exclaimed, “My Lord and My God,” thus making a public Profession of Faith in the Divinity of Jesus.

Thomas could well be the precursor of the arrival of a scientific age, when questioning and doubting are not seen as something alien to human persons. He is the icon of human intellect seeking its own answers. The intelligent and rational part of us can only find rest when it finds truth. It is a wonderful human passion, the passionateness of our being that drives and inspires us to arrive at truth. We are created lights seeking truth and beauty and goodness in all we encounter.

“My Lord and my God!” It is clearly a statement of deep faith. Thomas is the only person in the Gospel to address Jesus directly as ‘God’. If Thomas could be an icon of our intellectual and critical nature of human being, he is also certainly an icon of deep conviction of faith in God. He shows that our human wisdom needs to be complemented with a wisdom that comes from God. He shows the modern world that seeking answers and solutions is not the only way of being human, but more importantly that we human beings are called to believe, to have faith, and to love.

Perhaps only a character like Thomas could reach as far as the Indian sub-continent from the first century Palestine. It was his conviction and passion that pushed him to do the impossible. He took the faith that he received from Jesus himself, which was just a public enactment of what he professed behind closed doors, “My Lord and my God.”

St Thomas invites us to translate our passion for God and for humanity into actions. We need to profess that Jesus is Lord and God not just with our lips, but more importantly by our actions of love and compassion. Like Thomas we need to incarnate God and faith in Him in our postmodern, scientific world. Beyond our scientific and rational bent towards reality, we need to proclaim that God is real and that His marvellous designs are real through our very lives and actions.

Courage

Yesterday we saw Jesus telling his disciples to get into a boat to cross to the other side of the lake of Tiberias. Before he left, there were two men who asked to be disciples and we saw how Jesus dealt with them.

Now, as they crossed the lake a storm suddenly blew up. It seems this is a common feature of Lake Galilee. Actually the word that Matthew uses for ‘storm’ should be translated ‘earthquake’. It was a word commonly used in apocalyptic literature for the shaking of the old world when God brings in his kingdom and the Synoptic gospels use it in describing the events leading up to the final coming of Jesus. It indicates that there is more to this story than just a narrative.

While waves crashed into the boat Jesus remained fast asleep. In great fear, the disciples woke up him, “Lord, save us! We are lost!” Jesus was not very sympathetic. “Where is your courage? How little faith you have!” Then he stood up and rebuked the wind and sea. There immediately followed a complete calm. The disciples were awestruck and, in a way, were more afraid than ever. A storm they could understand but not what they saw Jesus doing. “What sort of man is this that even the winds and the sea obey him?” According to them, only one person could have this kind of power and that was God himself. Their question contained its own answer. It was a further step in their realising just who Jesus their Master really was.

We can, however, read another meaning into this story. We can understand it as a kind of parable about the early Church, the Church for which Matthew is writing. It was a Church consisting of many, small scattered communities or churches. They were surrounded by large, pagan and often very hostile peoples. Each little church community must have felt like those disciples in the boat with Jesus surrounded by a large expanse of water. Sometimes that water got very angry and threatened to engulf their boat. At the same time, Jesus their Lord seemed to be very far away; he seemed to be asleep, unaware and uncaring of their plight. The fact that in the gospel today they address him as “Lord” would indicate that the story points more to their present situation as isolated communities in a very uncertain world. Then they would come to realise that Jesus really was with them and that he did care a lot. And peace would come back to them again. But the peace would be in their hearts; the sea around them might be just as stormy as ever.

This is something for us to learn. Most of the time we can do very little to change the world around us or change the people who bother us. Maybe we have no right to make them change. But we can change; we can learn to see things in a different way; we can learn to be proactive instead of reactive. Above all, we can learn to be aware that God is close to us at all times, that he does know, that he does care, that, instead of taking things away, he helps us to go through them and keep our peace.

Sodom and Gomorrah

For the next two days we read the story of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. As we begin the reading we see the three mysterious visitors of Abraham preparing to continue their journey to Sodom. They subtly foreshadow the doctrine of Trinity: that God is One, and that God is Three Persons.

There is a delightful touch in today’s reading. As Abraham is seeing off his mysterious visitors, one of whom is identified as God himself with two angels as companions, God wonders to himself whether he should reveal to Abraham his plan to destroy Sodom. He knows how good and compassionate a man Abraham is, almost more kind and compassionate than God himself! But Abraham is now an important person in God’s plans.

Now, while the two angels continue on their journey, the third man, who is the Lord, tells Abraham he must go down to Sodom and Gomorrah to verify the reports reaching him of their terrible immorality.

Surely a God of justice will not wipe out the innocent with the guilty? Supposing there are as many as 50 good people in the city, will God destroy it? Abraham dares to tell God how he should behave! “Far be it for you to do such a thing, to make the innocent die with the guilty, so that the innocent and guilty would be treated in the same way!” And then the punch line: “Should not the judge of all the world act with justice?” It would be unjust to condemn the innocent, however few in comparison with the many sinners.

God will, in fact, save Lot and his family. Abraham’s argument, then, is that since all will share the same fate he asks that even a minority of good people would be enough to win pardon for all. Even so, Abraham’s request does not go below the number 10. Beyond that would be too much to ask for. But later we read in Jeremiah (5:1) that God would pardon Jerusalem if only one just person could be found and the same is implied in Ezekiel (22:30). Then, in Isaiah 53, it is the suffering of the one Servant which will save the whole race but this was not understood until it was seen fulfilled in the person of Jesus Christ.

God then agrees to spare the city, if he can find 50 good people in it. But, having got this concession, Abraham presses further, although he knows he is being very impertinent in speaking to his God like this. “See how I am presuming to speak to my Lord, though I am but dust and ashes.” But what if there are only 45 good people? No, the city would not be destroyed if 45 innocent people could be found. Abraham then continues his bargaining – 40? 30? 20? Even only 10? Each time God concedes and at the end replies: “For the sake of those 10 I will not destroy it.” With that, the Lord leaves Abraham and continues on his journey to Sodom, while Abraham returns to his home. However, on the following day, he will go back to the place where he spoke with the Lord and where he could look down on Sodom and Gomorrah in the valley below. Unfortunately, as we shall see, not even 10 good people could be found in the whole of Sodom.

Perhaps this would be a good time for us to reflect on the level of our own compassion with people who come into our lives. We may sometimes find ourselves doing the very opposite of Abraham, that is, condemning a whole group because of a small number of misbehaving people. We do need more of Abraham’s attitude of seeing as much good as possible in the world around us.

Following Jesus

On his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus meets three men who are anxious to follow him. Two of these voluntarily come forward to follow Jesus. But as we read in the gospel, all the three seem to be unfit or unprepared for the challenges involved in following Jesus. To follow Jesus is not a walk in the park.

To the first young man bursting with enthusiasm who, with whole-hearted response, vowed to be a follower of Jesus wherever he would go, must have been surprised to hear Jesus dampen his spirits and warn him off with the caution, that the Son of Man did not have a home to call his own. Jesus left his home at Nazareth, and settled in Capernaum. But that must have been merely a base for his activities. Jesus had no possessions or securities. Nor did he have institutional provisions for his nomadic mission of spreading God’s Kingdom in Galilee. His friends and followers were mainly from the lower class, though there were some including some pious women who were his benefactors. To all intents and purposes, Jesus did not have a place to lay his head.

Jesus is only being fair when he makes it clear in very direct terms what is expected of those who wish to join his group. If we want to accompany him we must know what we are doing and be aware of the harsh realities of life. To follow Jesus to Calvary can be no casual accompaniment of a wandering preacher. Less of romance, more of reality-bites. The message is harsh but clear – if anything at all stands in our way or takes priority over Jesus in our lives, then we are not free to follow him. Jesus would have certainly failed in any of our modern ad firms—who earn by the second (not merely by the minute)!

To the second man Jesus says, “Let the dead bury their dead.” It is not a polite thing to say to someone who just wants to provide a simple, human service to his father. A service, it needs to be said, that was required under Jewish law. Burying the dead and honouring one’s parents were both mandates, not suggestions.

But time is short, and Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem and his death. The shortcut across Samaria leads to shunning this time, as the Samaritans are not keen on a prophet destined for Jerusalem. The disciples would like to see them punished, but Jesus is not going to dignify that request with anything more than a curt reprimand. There is no time to lose.

To everyone, Jesus tells us what he says in this text to the man who wishes to bury his father: “Follow me.” Sometimes we have what seem to us good reasons for not dropping everything, but more often we make excuses.

To those who want to follow him, Jesus points out that the way he is going holds no glamour. Those who hesitate, Jesus rejects. The only disciples Jesus can use are those who put their hand to God’s plow and do not look back. That is what he tells the third young man, who too had conditions or duties to be fulfilled. You can only plow a straight line if you keep your focus on what you are doing—like Jesus, who is resolutely making his journey towards Jerusalem and the cross.

Every day we are faced with a situation similar to these three young prospective disciples. In the midst of our work, as we are hurrying about our business, we encounter Jesus who beckons us to come and serve. He longs for us to acknowledge his loving presence in silently carrying out his will. But how many times we have said, “Why now, Lord?” “Perhaps I’ll catch up with you later.” “Why don’t you come later?”

We could make other similar excuses. But having a habit of making excuses makes us halfhearted, which is one of the biggest reasons why we don’t feel fulfilled in life. Halfheartedness robs us of the joy and satisfaction that come from achievement.

What will be our response if we chance to meet the Lord today? Is there some kind of irritation with regard to Him? Do we want to postpone our following Him? Don’t we think it is easier to worship Jesus than to follow him?

Only one thing God wants of you: to call Him “my father,” and not stop following Him? (Jer 3:19) He wants from us a relationship, a loving devotedness.