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."

Dawn

“Then the upright will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father.”

In today's gospel (Matthew 13:35-43), we have Jesus' explanation on the parable of the wheat and weeds, that we read a few days back. It’s good for us to know that “all causes of sin” will be collected out of the kingdom and burned. That means all the sinfulness within me that has kept me from loving the way I ought, and the way I need, will be removed. And all that has kept others from loving the way they should and the way they wanted will be removed. God is love, and when we are fully in God, then we will be fully in love with one another. We are not perfectly loving people, but the more we allow God into our lives and loves, the truer will be our love for God and for others.

How can this happen? Prophet Isaiah gives us a clue: “This is what pleases me—it is the Lord who speaks—to break unjust fetters, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and break every yoke, to share your bread with the hungry, and to shelter the homeless poor, to clothe the one you see naked, and not run from your own kin. Then will your light shine like the dawn, and your wound will be quickly healed over” (Is 58:6–7). Our sinfulness and woundedness can be healed by our active involvement with the poor.

We are asked to be a people after God’s own heart, acting as God’s love and justice in this world. It is our light that should start shining like the dawn over a dark world that badly needs light. St Ignatius of Loyola (1491-1556), whose feast we celebrate today, shows us the importance of discerning God's light in our lives. Discernment is a choice between two (or more) goods. It is not a choice of good over bad. (Naturally, we are not called to choose the bad.) Discernment, therefore, is paying attention to what is deepest and best within us, and acting faithfully in accordance with what is deepest and best. That's what God's light is all about.

As God's patience and tolerance were highlighted in today's parable, St Ignatius had undertaken the task of Reformation in the Church "without hard words or contempt for people's errors." Thanks to his inspiration, the Society of Jesus (SJ) founded by him is the largest religious congregation in the world today.

Linen Loincloth

"Go and buy a linen loincloth."

These are the words of the Lord to Prophet Jeremiah, part of the first reading given to us today (Jeremiah 13:1-11). The Lord, very strangely, instructs Jeremiah to buy and use a loincloth (an underwear), and eventually He draws some hard lessons for his people, especially against the arrogance of Judah and Jerusalem. Jeremiah obediently follows all the instructions with regard to the loincloth: Do not dip it in water, Wear it, Bury it, Retrieve it. It's anyone guess now: the loincloth was spoilt, good for nothing. (The unwashed loincloth was to represent the guilt of the people unpurified by any real contact with the "clean water" of repentance.) Then the Lord says, "I had intended the whole House of Judah to cling to me like the loincloth, but they didn't; they haven't listened. This evil people who refuse to listen to my words, who follow the dictates of their own hearts, who have followed alien gods, and served them and worshipped them, let them become like this loincloth, good for nothing."

It was usual with the prophets to teach by signs, sometimes as in the above passage by some strange signs and gestures. The people of Israel had been to God as this underwear. God's Law to them expected their close connection and relationship with Him, confirmed by the prophets He sent among them, and the favours he showed them. But the people by their idolatries and sins had corrupted themselves, and were so corrupted that they were good for nothing.

This is also to show that the Lord communicates with us each and every moment; he has a message for us from every event that takes place in and around us. At times His messages or His styles of communication are very strange. If we are proud of our wealth or of our learning, of power, popularity, and outward privileges, then there is every possibility all these will become good for nothing. Our talents and good things are useful only insofar as they are connected to the Lord. If we are not in conscious relationship with God, even all the good things are useless. Our minds should be awakened to a sense of their danger. Humility is the only appropriate response to the Mystery of God, and to His gifts to us.

One Small Boy

It all started with the real hero of that story—a small boy. There were all those people: five thousand men and, most probably, at least double that number of women and children. It was an adult gathering, not the sort of place a little boy would choose to spend his day as if it were a picnic. It is Jesus who says: "What are we going to do? How are we going to feed them?" "There is a small boy here," Andrew informed the others. And with this insignificant detail an extraordinary miracle began to take shape. With all innocence, the little one must have proudly displayed to Andrew the contents of his lunch bag – two fish and five barley loaves – and offered to share it. Most adults in a similar situation would have been more circumspect. "What is that between so many?" Adults wouldn't even have offered to reveal what they had. Some even could have thought of finishing it up, before someone could ask for a share from it. But the little lad offered whatever little he had to Jesus, and behold there was a great miracle. Incidentally, this is the only miracle narrated by all the four evangelists.

Today’s miracle should help restore our lost confidence. Even small details in our lives have a meaning. The Lord used the little contribution that the small boy generously parted with. The boy would never forget this as long as he lived, that he had contributed to a miracle. We should not forget either. Overwhelmed as we may be with the might of technological progress, we should always remember that it is with our little efforts that God chooses to make his greatest miracles. God and little sacrifices (efforts) together make a formidable combination. He can use our littleness for his greater glory. Unimaginable things can happen if only we are willing to part with our little things. Finally, and interestingly, they collected twelve basketfuls. There is always excess if we trust God's work. When you are asked for something you think you are unable to give, think of that small boy, of his story, and think of the twelve basketfuls of food left over. Everything has a place in our lives, if we are ready to open ourselves and share it with the Lord. Miracles begin with just a little generosity!

Gentle Powers

“Let them both grow till the harvest.”

Whenever I read the passage of Matthew 13:24-30, given for today's liturgy, I cannot but admire God's patience, and a divine logic that is way beyond ours. We have the awful tendency to wage war on war; we think we can use violence in order to deal with violence. War has something to do with old apocalyptic ideas: heaven should open and destroy everything that hinders us. God should be some kind of a superhero Rajnikanth or Rambo to avenge all the evil ones.

Jesus’ companions thought in those terms. When a town in Samaria didn’t wish to receive them, James and John asked Jesus, “Lord, do you want to call down fire from heaven to destroy them?” Jesus rebukes them. That isn’t his approach. He doesn’t believe in that type of force. He prefers another power, the fantastic power of a seed, the penetrating power of yeast, the gentle power of resurrection achieved at death and sacrifice. He prefers energies that change things from within. We often think that change can come from outside, that you can force it upon people as you can force it upon things. Jesus asks us to trust the soft powers in ourselves, in others, and in the world.

The kingdom of God begins with an inner potential that is given to everybody, something that will grow. If stimulated correctly and gently it will overgrow the weeds and all evil. Jesus has a bold gentleness that demands great courage but also great self-control and humility. In Jesus we see that God has a gentle confidence in our inborn goodness and possibilities. When we reflect on the humble yet marvellous life of St Alphonsa Muttathupadathu, we see God's gentle strength that bloomed in her to make her a Saint full of love and innocence in spite of all the terrible sufferings that she encountered. Her tomb at Bharananganam (ever since her death) pays homage to God's gentle powers through the innumerable miracles worked in the lives of so many pilgrims.

Let us trust those gentle powers in ourselves and in others. Let us stir them up in ourselves and others.

Seed of the Word

The parable of the sower is interpreted by Jesus himself, as we see in today's gospel reading. There are six kinds of soil: three good kinds and three unproductive ones. The productive ones are those that produce 30-fold, 60-fold, and 100-fold. The unproductive soil types are the pathways, the rocky places, and the thorny places. All of us in one way or another find ourselves in one of the six types at various stages of our lives. To welcome the Word of God in our lives is paramount.

The Word of God is the seed, it is not the fruit itself. So, in this context, we can say that the Bible is a text in travail. It is pregnant with meaning and significance. Only our interaction with the Word of God and our acceptance of it can give birth to its meaning, that will lead us to produce fruit in our Christian lives. So, in the Bible, don't look for conclusions or answers. You need to struggle through the journey. It's an adventure. You need to experience it yourself, and offer your lives as evidence to its fruitfulness.

Moreover, we read the Bible as we are. That is why some of us find is very useful and inspirational. Others don't. That's why we can say that Scripture, like us, is fully human and fully divine. If we read the Scripture with hateful and vengeful attitudes, then we may misuse it for condemning others, and judging others. The only way, the best attitude, to read the Scripture is to read it with love. Only then can we produce great fruits, and be effective in the Christian living of God's Word.

Mind you, God speaks to us through many ways: not just the Bible, but also through our parents, dear ones, nature, the Church's tradition, through other religions, cultures, even through our so-called enemies. He speaks to us always and everywhere. "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

Fountain of Life

"Two evils have my people done: they have forsaken me, the source of living waters;

They have dug themselves cisterns, broken cisterns, that hold no water."

Today's first reading from Prophet Jeremiah beautifully describe the root of sin and sinfulness. “People have gone after worthlessness, and have become worthless themselves” (Jer 2:5). The Bible never tires of repeating that evil is evil because it hurts us. Sin is self-punishment, self-destruction. It is worthlessness. There is nothing nice about sin. Nobody actually enjoys being in sin. Sin hurts us; it makes us suffer. Sin destroys us. Sin is missing the mark (hamartia). It is ultimately nothingness.

Sin is about forsaking the Lord, who is the source of living waters. It is about digging for ourselves leaky cisterns that hold no water (Jer 2:13). We, human beings, need to worship God. Otherwise, we will put ourselves at the centre, and worship ourselves. When our agendas and endeavours take the upper hand, God is sidelined. When our time is filled with our own worries and anxieties, without any place to God, then we become gods unto ourselves. We will be going after worthless idols created by our own minds. Very often we want a God who reflects and even confirms our culture, our biases, our economic, political, and security systems.

Let God be God. It takes a long time for us to allow God to be who God really is. Our natural egocentricity wants to make God into who we want God to be. Let us allow the Word of God to keep us free for God and to keep God free for us. As the Psalmist sings, we need to acknowledge, "In you, Lord, is the source of life" (Psalm 36:6-11). God is the source of everything. Without Him we would all return to nothingness. "O Lord, how precious is your love. In you is the source of life and in your light we see light." Yes, dear friends, we can see only in God's light. He/She is the fountain of life.

Saints Joachim and Anne, Parents of the Blessed Virgin Mary, Pray for us!

St James, Apostle

St James, the son of Zebedee, belonged to the inner group of Jesus' apostles. He was the brother of St John and, like him, a fisherman. Along with John, he promptly left his occupation and his family in order to respond to Jesus' call to be fisher of men and women. James was one of the favoured three who had the privilege of witnessing the Transfiguration, the raising to life of the daughter of Jairus, and the agony in Gethsemani (but slept through most of the time). James and John were nicknamed by Jesus the “sons of thunder.” This was evidenced when the Samaritans would not welcome Jesus because he was on his way to hated Jerusalem. “When the disciples James and John saw this they asked, ‘Lord, do you want us to call down fire from heaven to consume them?’ Jesus turned and rebuked them…” (Luke 9:54-55). But this incident also showed their closeness to their Master Jesus. James was the first of the apostles to be martyred, being beheaded by King Herod Agrippa I to please the Jewish opponents of Christianity in the year 44. He was buried in Jerusalem. This James, sometimes called James the Greater, is not to be confused with James the Lesser or with the author of the Letter of James and the leader of the Jerusalem community.

According to a tradition, the relics of St James were brought to Spain after his martyrdom, and his shrine at Compostela in Galicia grew in importance until it became the greatest pilgrimage centre in western Europe. In many countries there are churches of St James and well-known, well-trodden pilgrim routes. The scallop-shell, the emblem of St James, has become the emblem of pilgrims generally.

Today's gospel passage (Matthew 20:20-28) has the mother of James and John requesting Jesus, "Promise that these two sons of mine may sit one at your right hand and the other at your left in your kingdom." The other disciples became indignant at the ambition of James and John. Then Jesus taught them all the lesson of humble service: The purpose of authority is to serve. It is about authenticity, and also about sharing the cup of suffering that Jesus was to drink. They are not to impose their will on others, or lord it over them. This is the position of Jesus himself. He was the servant of all; the service imposed on him was the supreme sacrifice of his own life. The way the Gospels treat the apostles is a good reminder of what holiness is all about. There is very little about their virtues as static possessions, entitling them to heavenly reward. Rather, the great emphasis is on the kingdom, on Jesus giving them the power to proclaim the Good News. As far as their personal lives are concerned, there is much about the patience and wisdom of Jesus purifying them of narrowness, pettiness, and fickle-mindedness. Do we allow Jesus to transform us deeply? Are we ready to drink his cup?

New Definition of Family

Jesus creates a new definition of family in today's gospel passage (Matthew 12:46-50). Jesus is on the inside of the house teaching his disciples; Mary, his mother, and his brothers are standing outside the house. "Who is my mother, my sister, my brother?" Pointing to the disciples, to the inside, Jesus says, "These are my brothers, my sisters, and my mother. Anyone who does the will of my Father is my brother and sister and mother."

Jesus turns the situation upside down. No kinship, no tribalism, no culturalism, no bloodline. Who is my mother, my brother, my sister? Those who do God's will. To challenge the idea of family was really shocking to a culture based on the kinship system. Blood relationship is secondary to Jesus.

Jesus has in a moment turned upside down the whole bloodline family system, even at the risk of slighting his mother! Mary with regard to the bloodline may be on the outside; but she becomes an insider, a disciple: one who does the will of God. She belongs to the inside group as disciple, as mother to God's beloved, as mother to the disciples.

Jesus says it's not blood that makes family, but it's trust, union, and commitment. This is the new defintion of family. Jesus opposes conventional wisdom so much that he has redefined the family in terms of a universal family based on discipleship and love. He has broken that addiction to false patriotism, loyalty and nationality. Everyone is a God's beloved child. Everyone is a bearer of the divine image, containing in herself/himself the inherent dignity that s/he is created in God's own image and likeness. No exceptions. No more boundaries of races and countries. No more narrow-minded nationalism, but only internationalism without boundaries. All people are God's own people, every land Holy Land, all times and places sacred to the Lord.

To act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly

"And what does the Lord require of you? Only this, to act justly, to love tenderly and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:6-8).

The Lord asks only these three things: justice, love and humility. He does not ask for offerings and sacrifices; they don't please the Lord. Justice is giving another one her due. It is recognizing the inherent dignity of being a God's child in the other, as in oneself. But if I hate myself, I can't love the other. If I am able to give myself my own due and dignity, and realise that I am God's Beloved, then I will be able to do it in the other. I will be able to love her as she is, and accept her too as God's child. Grace builds on nature; it does not avoid or destroy nature. You are created in the image of God from the very beginning (Genesis 1:26-27). This is the basis for God’s justice: Since everyone is made in the image of God, then we need to recognize, honour, and respect the image of God in everyone. No exceptions.

Secondly, life is about relationships. And truest relationship is love. What Prophet Micah gives us is to love tenderly, or to love mercy. God's nature is love, absolute relationship itself. God's other name is mercy. In our being, and thus in our action, we are called to love, to be merciful. Nothing human can stop the flow of divine love; we cannot undo the eternal pattern even by our worst sin. This is God's love for us. This is what we are called to imitate. To participate in the divine circle dance of love, and thus through us proclaim and include others in this divine dance.

Finally, humility is the honesty to be oneself, and to accept oneself with all the imperfections, and thus have the courage to accept others as they are with their imperfections. Humility is the mother of all virtues; it is mother of all growth. To be humble is to be honest. Humility and honesty are essentially the same thing. One who is humble is brutally honest about oneself and is open to truth. The only people who grow in truth are those who are humble and honest. Without these two qualities, we don't grow. The only honest response to the mystery of life is a humble one. Humility is the only appropriate response to Mystery: the mystery of life, the mystery of God.

Sign of Jonah

“The only sign it will be given is the sign of the prophet Jonah. For as Jonah was in the belly of the sea-monster for three days and three nights, so will the Son of Man be in the heart of the earth for three days and three nights.”

The expectation of the scribes and Pharisees was silly. Calling them “an evil and unfaithful generation” showed Jesus’ exasperation. How could they ask him for a sign while they were surrounded by the signs he gave them? Wasn’t he God’s sign to them?

Yet Jesus gives an interesting sign for them and for us: the sign of Jonah. The sign of Jonah is Jesus’ primary metaphor for transformation in the gospels. God used Jonah inspite of himself. Jonah was trying to run away from God. But God uses him for transformation of the people of Nineveh.

By getting into the belly of the whale (or sea-monster), Jonah becomes an agent of transformation. For us too, this is way to transformation according to our Lord. Getting into the darkness, pain, grief and misery is the way towards maturity, growth, change and transformation. Therefore, by avoiding darkness we may avoid God himself. We may avoid God’s plan of transformation for us and for others. But by accepting cross and pain, we accept God himself. At times, we may be called to live without meaning, in darkness. Along with patience and endurance, and by embracing meaninglessness and darkness we shall find life. This is the paschal pattern of life that we are called to embrace. If we want to grow, we need to accept pain as part of the plan.

Even death is part of life; failure is part of success. Even doubts become necessary for faith; uncertainties needed for certainty. Everything has its place. Nothing is ever lost; everything is transformed.

Solitude

Living in cities and large towns, many of us know what it is to live surrounded by noise. Is there any of us who is not irritated by the traffic congestions on our roads? All kinds of pollution assail us, paralyze our movements and our lives. The car honks, can we just get used to them? Now, through all our waking hours, we are bombarded by sounds and noises created by our machines, screaming for our attention. We are the first of our race to be warned about dangerous levels of decibels. But strangely we seem to like noise: we like our headphones even during our morning walks and jogs, and aerobic and yoga sessions. We are ready to face the world only when armed with a set of earphones. The soaps and serials on TV accompany our busy housewives all through the day and the night. The youngsters seem to like only loud music. The end-of-the-day news sessions seem incomplete without Arnab Goswami like loud and shouting-at-each-other debates. We are all wired for sound.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of our day to day living, is there time for silence? In the noise-cluttered lives of ours do we give space to ourselves and to God? I believe many of us do want some kind of escape far from the madding crowd. In our busy lives do we make time and space for solitude? Even when we have some time for ourselves, what do we do? We pick up our cell phones, busy ourselves with WhatsApp, Facebook or other social network media. These have a knack of killing our solitude. They are not just waste of time, but they are potentially harmful and dangerous if abused.

Yet those who seek God are more likely to find Him in solitude. Silence is the language of God; everything else is poor translation. The importance of becoming still, can we ignore? You will agree with me when I say that we need at least 20 minutes a day for ourselves, and for God: not for "saying" more prayers or completing our restless novenas, but to sit in stillness and silence. This is a time for enjoying God, or perhaps even enduring God if we have issues with Him.

Christ told his apostles, "You must come away to some lonely place all by yourselves and rest for a while." He is telling us the same. In our hectic activism, Jesus invites us into silence and solitude. He does not want us to be always in a movement mode, always in a service mode. He wants us to rest with him. For Jesus prayer seems to be a matter of waiting in love, returning to love, and trusting that love is the bottom stream of reality. That's why prayer isn't primarily words; it's primarily a place, an attitude, a stance, a state that precedes “saying” any individual prayers. That's why Paul could say, "Pray always," and "Pray unceasingly." If we read that as requiring words, it is surely impossible. We've got a lot of other things to do. We can pray unceasingly, however, if we find the stream and know how to wade in waters. The stream will flow through us, and all we have to do is consciously stay there.

The most challenging aspect of our Christian lives, I believe, is not about finding more work or service to express our Christian vocation, but finding that lonely place for solitude, prayer and reflection in our busy lives. Workaholics do not find a model in Jesus. He doesn't want workaholics, he wants centred people imbued with his spirit. He merely wants instruments, not master-builders or messiahs who will plan others' salvation. He himself is the Messiah already, he wants convinced people to be with him, and to be sent out into the world. But he will plan everything, we only need to second the motion. Are we ready?

Servant

"Here is my servant whom I have chosen, my beloved, the favourite of my soul. I will endow him with my spirit, and he will proclaim the true faith to the nations. He will not brawl or shout, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. He will not break the crushed reed, nor put out the smouldering wick till he has led the truth to victory: in his name the nations will put their hope."

The Gospel of today (Matthew 12:14-21) quotes the first song of the suffering servant from Isaiah 42:1-4. Matthew sees this prophecy being fulfilled in Jesus of Nazareth, the Anointed One. If I am a disciple of Christ, then I am called to imitate in his sweetness, gentleness, humility, non-violence, and above all in his servanthood. Being a servant means becoming unimportant in this world. It is nice to be important, but it is more important to be nice. How many of us can accept this? How many of us can just play the second fiddle, be backstage? Being a Christian does not make us important. We are like the leaven hidden in the dough. We are like the treasure hidden in the field. We are only seeds planted in the soil, but can give growth to the mighty Kingdom of God.

As Christians we are called to give up pomp and power. We choose powerlessness over power. Like Jesus we are called to be bridge-builders between power and powerlessness. Bridge-builders, including Jesus, usually start building a bridge from one side. You can't build a bridge from the middle, as engineers would tell us. We had better start from the side of powerlessness, not power. Because if we start on the side of power we'll stay there forever. As followers of the Gospel, we will always be in a minority position. But that's how we shall have greater access to the truth. We in our time have to find our way to disestablish ourselves, to identify with our powerlessness instead of our power, our dependence instead of our independence, our communion instead of our individualism.

Paradoxically, our humility or powerlessness is that which gives us power. Tao Te Ching says, "All streams flow to the sea because it is lower than they are. Humility gives it its power." In our helplessness we become powerful instruments of the Lord. Only in emptiness can a vessel be filled. The emptier the vessel, the fuller it can be filled. God can use our nothingness, more than our talents and capacities. He can use our vulnerability and our woundedness for His greater glory.

Lord of the Sabbath

"I tell you that something greater than the temple is here. If you had known what these words mean, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent. For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath" (read Matthew 12:1-8).

Many Catholics still confess that they have not gone for Sunday Mass because they had been sick. Or they might even confess that they have not kept a few rules because of some reasons. Yet others confess all the rules that they have broken, but forget to think about the weighter matters of our religion: love. "Have I loved sufficiently? Have I given space to love and compassion in my life?" 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. I think this kind of consciousness should be the context for our confessions, not merely our breaking of rules.

I'm afraid, for many of us, Christianity is a mere collection of rules. We seem to miss the whole point. We seem to miss the central aspect, the Person that makes our religion. Do we follow the Lord of the Sabbath or just the Sabbath of the Lord?

Following Christ is about desiring mercy and compassion; it is about supporting the innocent and having a big heart for others. Big-heartedness always draws close to the other, and it always draws the other close. Our God is a God of love. He is a God of relationships. If God is Trinity, then God is Absolute Relationship, even inside of God. (And the truest relationship is love.) And every time God shows mercy and forgives, He is saying that relationship is more important than His own rules!

Let our religion be one of relationships: with ourselves and with one another, with creation and with nature, and with God. Our relationships give meaning to our life. As Jesus gave primacy to relationships, let us also give first place to them in our lives.

Come to Me

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

In today’s gospel passage (Matthew 11:28-30), Jesus invites us to come (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.

During his lifetime on earth, we see that people went to Jesus and were refreshed. Having met Jesus, they 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 times we carry our burdens without having time 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 his side. 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. Are we ready to lighten our burdens?

We too can have Jesus-like effects 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. How sweet, and how beautiful!

Wisdom of Life

“I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to little children.”

It is as if Jesus is here on a kind of anti-intellectual tour, something Paul seems to do, too, when he makes almost the same remarks about the foolishness of those wise in the eyes of the world, and the wisdom of those wise in the eyes of God.

The true goal of spirituality is not intellectual insight, but divine wisdom. A mere intellectual grasp of spiritual things is insufficient. What Jesus recommends in today's reading (Matthew 11:25-27) is childlike openness to God's mysteries. God himself is a mystery. Without an ever-open attitude to the mystery of God, we could easily miss him. What is a mystery? Mystery isn't something that you cannot understand—it is something that you can endlessly understand!

We're standing in the middle of an awesome mystery—life itself!—and the only appropriate response before this mystery is humility and childlike openness. Let us go into the mystery: not to hold God but to let God hold us. Not to hold reality but to let reality hold us. Let life hold us. And, mind you, God comes to us disguised as life itself. The myriad forms of life in the universe are merely parts of the One Life—that many of us call “God.” Let's not miss Him. Let's embrace the mystery of Life, or rather be embraced by Life itself!

God refuses to be known, but can only be loved and enjoyed. All we can do is jump on this train, which is already moving. All we can do is to enjoy the flow of the river, which is already flowing. Let us not push the river! But just enjoy the flow.

The Repair of the Broken World

Jesus summoned his disciples, made them share in his authority, and told them to go out to clean and repair the world (Matthew 10:1-7).

As the followers of our Lord, we have been given power over evil and sickness. We often don’t accept our own authoritative power over misery, sickness, and evil. Matthew says explicitly that Jesus summoned his followers by name and gave them authority over unclean spirits with power to drive them out, and to cure all kinds of diseases. This passage is not about working miracles and wonders, as normally people understand. It is rather about our own inner authority to deal with falsity and evil, and about offering our healing touch in compassion to our brothers and sisters.

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. We could do all kinds of things, but we don’t. It isn’t unwillingness on our part. What hinders us most often is the poor idea we have of our own influence, of our own weight and authority. Yet, we are charged with God’s Spirit, and with the mission Jesus left us to bring God’s reign to life among us.

We are put in this world as participants and executors in God’s creative and salvific project. We have to execute this project in the place and situation where we are engaged as parents, educators, religious, priests, children, students, youngsters, or retired senior citizens. We should also take into account that there is always a great demand for volunteers chasing the evil from our world. (There are so many associations in our parishes and societies: Red Cross, Legion of Mary, Jesus Youth, Third Orders, MSF, Catholic Relief Services, etc.)

We should start at home. The temptation is always to blame the evil in the world on others, scapegoating them. We as Jesus' disciples become his partners in the universal restoration work he himself had come to do. Our honeymoon is over, the work needs to begin. Let us not forget that we are "wounded healers"—we are healers but at the same time wounded and broken like others. The repair of our own inner broken worlds has to go on simultaneously with our social interventions.

Sheep Without a Shepherd

The Pharisees believed a person’s afflictions were the result of sin. In their view, people had to suffer as a result of their own evil. They had to suffer, as a just punishment. Therefore, to heal them was in a way letting them off the hook so that they didn’t suffer the consequences of their acts. The Pharisees were indignant with Jesus, because he healed those kind of people. Instead of allowing them to suffer, according to the Pharisees, Jesus "cancelled" their debt of punishment and suffering. They accused Jesus of being in league with the devil because he seemed to be giving people license to sin with impunity (Matthew 9:32-38).

Jesus saw things differently. He had compassion on afflicted people and did what he could for them. That involved the forgiveness of their sins. He showed them true freedom, and made them taste it. To have compassion means to feel with the other, to suffer with the other. This is God's compassion, God's mercy: He even suffers with us. He doesn’t look at our faults, but at the places in us that are trying to say “yes.” As we ourselves do the same with our children, He looks beyond our naughtiness and failures to look into those places where we are open to the divine. He sees beyond the “no” to the abiding “yes.” He sees the divine image in us as we see our image in our children.

God’s mercy is so powerful to bring about righteousness in us. The Muslims have a saying. They say that no one can escape from the power of God, and the power of God is his mercy.

Courage, My Daughter!

“Jesus turned around, saw her, and he said to her: ‘Courage, my daughter, your faith has saved you!’”

In today’s reading (Matthew 9:18-26) a woman in the crowd around Jesus touches the fringe of his cloak. She isn’t supposed to do that. She wasn’t even allowed to be in a crowd, because, according to the Law, her sickness made her impure. According to that Law everything she touched became unclean as well. But she took the risk, thinking “even if I only touch his cloak I shall be saved.”

At the moment of that touch everything else around Jesus seems to fall away. It doesn’t count anymore. What counts is that woman and no one else. Jesus turns around, looks at her, and says to her, “Courage, my daughter, your faith has saved you!” And for some strange reason, Jesus seems to praise faith even more than love in the gospels.

She was for that instant the only one who counted for him. He gave his whole self to her. W.B. Yeats once wrote: “The love of God is infinite for every human soul, because every human soul is unique; no other can satisfy the same need in God.” It is that unique love of God for each of us that should make us halt in the crowd we live in and look at one another and at ourselves with greater care. God loves you infinitely at this moment. Do you believe?

Prophets

Most societies attach an inordinate importance to conformity. Observance of conventions is often rigorously insisted upon and those who step out of line can sometimes be severely ostracized. Beneath the charm of a village, there often lurks a lethal intolerance. Is this why many youngsters seem so eager to escape into the anonymity of the city?

Returning to his home-town Nazareth, Jesus discovered that he was not accepted there. Jesus was even amazed at his own country men and women's lack of faith. A prophet is not welcome in his own village. In fact, nobody is welcome who seeks to disturb the time honoured conventions. Truth and religion have long since been domesticated into a cosy conformism. Nobody is allowed question the reigning orthodoxy.

Yet Jesus' whole life is an assault on conventional wisdom, or "normalcy." It is this very normalcy that keeps people from God. Eventually it was this normalcy that crucified Jesus, foreshadowed in today's Gospel reading of Jesus' rejection at Nazareth (Mark 6:1-6).

Little has changed since Jesus' time. Prophets still go unrecognized in their own times and in their own homelands. Some, like Martin Luther King and Mahatma Gandhi, had their voices silenced by an assassin’s bullet. Others, like Andrei Sakharov, after a life-time of prison and persecution, die almost within sight of the promised land. Nelson Mandela lived to see it, after spending twenty-seven years in prison. But his persecutors scarcely learned their lesson. His prison silence resounded throughout the world. Prophets such as these often seem fated to receive the recognition abroad that they are denied at home. And those distant admirers who crown them with accolades, make sure to keep their own radicals on a tight leash. Prophets are uncompromising. Prophets are those who comfort the disturbed, but certainly disturb the comfortable. Their demands are not negotiable. That's why prophets are always unpopular.

We are all called, by our baptisms, to be prophets. Not just to be queens/kings and priests. We celebrate the feast of Christ the King, even remember his Priestly interventions. But what about a feast for Christ the Prophet? Is Christ the Prophet still unpopular and unwelcome in our own Christian Churches? As prophets, we too, like Jesus, should stand up and speak out against the injustices of our time. It matters little whether people listen or not. Perhaps, this is one best way to honour Christ the Prophet.

New Wine in New Wineskins

The passage of Matthew 9:14-17, contains the short parable of New Wine in New Wineskins: we can't put new wine into old wineskins. Otherwise it would mean a double ruin: both the wine and the wineskin would be wasted. The parable points to the impossibility of conversing with old mentalities. In the same passage, there is also a comparison of the old and the new cloaks. No one tears a new cloak to stitch on to an old cloak. Otherwise it is a double ruin.

The new wine is the symbol of Jesus' actions and teachings. This new wine needs new mentalities and attitudes. You can't have the old forms of religion to contain Jesus' spirit, and these forms need to be flexible like new wineskins. New wineskins imply flexibility, and the ability to breathe. The document published by the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life, on January 6, 2017, uses this parable as an inspiration to give us guidelines and orientations related to the challenges of consecrated life. It says, “Institutional, religious, and symbolic forms need to be flexible always. Without the necessary flexibility, no institutional form, no matter how venerable, can withstand the tensions of life or respond to the appeals of history.” Change is the only way forward. The only reality that is constant is change itself.

To follow Jesus is to follow a Person, not a set of rules and concepts. His spirit can't be contained in words or structures; we need to be ever flexible in our mind and in our religious forms in order to be faithful to him. He himself is the Way! One cannot fall in love with concepts, but only with a Person.