Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph
The Feast of the Holy Family is an inspiring feast. Who does not want a wonderful, loving, good, holy, and wholesome family? The Holy Family represents every longing of human families. But, we must be cautious. Comparing the Holy Family with our families can also lead to unrealistic expectations and unhelpful conclusions. After all, two people in the Holy Family were without sin. This is certainly not the intention of the celebration of the Feast of the Holy Family.
Fourth Sunday of Advent
In today’s readings we hear about two epic characters in the Bible separated by a thousand years of history – David and Mary. Both were dearly beloved to God. They were both chosen unexpectedly (David, the youngest son of Jesse was anointed while he was tending sheep and Mary, well, we do not know). They were both chosen for tasks that seemed beyond their abilities (the shepherd boy would be king of Israel and Mary would become the mother of the Son of God). David would become the most honoured king Israel ever knew and Mary would give birth to the promised the King of the universe. God’s promise to David that his kingdom would last forever is in fact fulfilled through Mary. Jesus, her son would inaugurate the Kingdom of God. A thousand years apart, David and Mary are connected by the same prophecy.
Third Sunday of Advent
Today is the third Sunday of Advent. It is also called Gaudete Sunday or Rejoice Sunday. In the ancient times, Advent was fourty days, just like Lent. So midway between these two holy seasons, the church paused to draw the people’s focus from the stringent penances to either the nativity or the resurrection of the Lord. Even when Advent time was made shorter, midway through Advent, the Church invites us to pause and take time to reflect on the reason for our Advent preparations – the coming of our Redeemer. Yes, Jesus is near! The Lord is close! Our redemption is at hand! He is the cause of our joy!
Second Sunday of Advent
It was Christmas Eve, and an overwhelmed mother was preparing the living room for Santa. Her children watched in excitement as she left a glass of warm milk and her freshly baked cookies on the coffee table. But she accidently dropped a cookie on the carpet. “Five seconds rule,” she said to her kids and put the cookie back on the plate. Her seven-year-old said, “Mom, Santa can’t have that cookie!” She protested, “I just vacuumed the whole room and the carpet is clean. Santa won’t know anyway.” Her son said, “So… Santa only knows what I do?”
First Sunday of Advent
The last few years have felt like a marathon. Between becoming pastor of a growing number of parishes and delicate situations with family back in India, it has felt like an unending marathon. There has been no time for vacations or the sometimes to take a breath. Especially since last July, I have barely been able to take two or three days off. I was feeling the exhaustion. I was losing the energy. I was afraid of getting burned out. For the first time in many, I did not even host Thanksgiving. I had to do something. And I did. I requested a clearing my calendar and took the week and weekend of Thanksgiving off. It was the best thing I did. Would I say I am totally rejuvenated? To be honest, barely. However, the time off has helped me connect with my inner self again. I slept a lot. I caught up with my John of the Cross. I took time to pray. I picked up my guitar again. I feel that I took a long, deep breath.
Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
The parable of the talents (Mt 25:14-30), is an intriguing parable on many levels. Liturgically, of course, we are hearing it today because the end of the liturgical year is approaching. Once again, like last weekend with the parable of the ten maidens, if we do not understand the parable in the context of the delay of the Parousia, it can be misunderstood. The point of the parable is not how to invest money or to make profit, but that one should not get careless and lose sight of eternity as we await the second coming of Christ.
Thirty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
At every baptism, after the child is draped in white garment, the celebrant lights the baptismal candle from the Paschal candle, and hands it to the child with these words, “Receive the light of Christ.” And then the celebrant says to the parents and godparents: “Parents and godparents, this light is entrusted to you to be kept burning brightly. This child of yours has been enlightened by Christ. He (she) is to walk always as a child of the light. May he (she) keep the flame of faith alive in his (her) heart. When the Lord comes, may he (she) go out to meet him with all the saints in the heavenly kingdom.” These words are a direct reference to parable of the ten wise and foolish maidens in today’s gospel reading (Mt 25:1-13). The symbolism of the lighted candle is simply this - that our baptism, at which we receive the new life of Christ, is an invitation to live that new life, wisely and not foolishly, with faith rather than faithlessly, in anticipation of Christ’s coming rather than aimlessly. Our baptism is a commitment to intentional living.
Thirty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
It is not the easiest of times to be a Catholic priest. On the one hand, there is a tremendous shortage of priests. But the bigger issue is credibility. It’s not that individual priests are not loved, respected, and trusted by people but I am talking about the profession as a whole. Especially in the post child-abuse crisis church, the credibility of the Catholic hierarchy has taken a big hit. I am sure the issue is more complex, but perhaps, there is some link between the credibility of the hierarchy and the shortage of priests.
Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
“Which commandment in the law is the greatest?” (Mt 22:36). That is the question. You see, the Torah presented 613 laws to people. But this presented some unique issues for the observant Jew. How could anyone keep track of these laws on a daily basis? Are some laws more important than others?
My homily today answers these questions, especially, Jesus' answer to the scholar of the law in today's gospel reading, and draws some practical implications.
Twenty-ninth Sunday in Ordinary Time
You’ve probably heard the fable of the cow and the pig. The pig was unpopular whereas the cow was beloved. This puzzled the pig. One day the pig went to the cow and said, “People speak warmly of your gentle nature and your sorrowful eyes. They think you are generous because each day you give them milk and cream. But what about me? I give them everything I have. I give them ham and bacon. I provide bristles for bushes. They even pickle my feet. Yet no one likes me. Why is that?” The cow replied, “Think about it! Is it possible that people love me because I give while I am still living, while you give after you are dead?” The pig thought for a moment and said, “Your kind of giving is called sacrifice. My kind of giving is called total commitment.”
Twenty-eighth Sunday in Ordinary Time
We have heard parables after parables over the last few weeks. Parables often use rich imagery to communicate the lesson of the story. Whereas for the last three Sundays we heard the imagery of a vineyard, the imagery shifts to that of a feast, even better, a wedding feast. Let me say a few things about the parable of the wedding feast before I propose some practical implications.
Twenty-seventh Sunday in Ordinary Time
Two developments of universal significance took place this past week in the Catholic Church. First, a Synod with cardinals, bishops, and for the first time, lay people including women with voting privileges, opened in Rome. The Synod is still in progress. Second, Pope Francis published his latest encyclical, Laudato Deum, a sequel to his encyclical on the Creation, Laudato Si. Both these developments can be integrally connected to today’s scripture readings that have “the vineyard” as their primary theme.
Twenty-sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Over the last two Sunday’s and today, we have had three parables – the parable of the unforgiving debtor, the parable of the workers in the vineyard, and today, the parable of the two sons. Today, I would like to reflect on these three parables together. I am doing so because they offer life-changing perspectives on Christian living.
Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The parable of the ‘Workers in the Vineyard’ could not have come at a more relevant time. There are two ongoing nationwide strikes, and both have to do with workers, wages, benefits, justice, and the common good. When we experience an injustice, we seek justice. It is the right thing to do. It is right to seek justice not only on a social level, but we Catholics also believe that justice is a divine virtue. We know God to be just.
Twenty-fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Besides “As I have loved you, so must you love one another” (Jn 13:34), no other teaching of Jesus is more definitive for Christianity than his teaching on forgiveness. Jesus’ parable of the unforgiving servant in today’s gospel reading ends with, “So will my heavenly Father do to you, unless each of you forgives your brother from your heart” (Mt 18:35). There are no ‘ifs’ and 'buts' attached to Jesus’ command to forgive. It is simple, straightforward, uncompromising, and unrelenting. This makes Christianity challenging for the holiest of Christians.
Twenty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time
A priest friend of mine sent me this story a few years back. It is the story of one of his friends who is a cab driver who often did night shifts to make just a little more money.
One day, at 2:30 in the morning, the cab driver was called to an apartment. When he got there, he saw no one except a single dim light at the entrance. Normally, in such circumstances cab drivers normally honk once or twice and if they see no one within a minute, they drive away, not willing to take a risk to go in.
Twenty-second Sunday in Ordinary Time
I could be wrong, but I think one of the things we might believe is that life is easier with God. “Jesus take the wheel”, right? With Jesus in the driver’s seat, the ride is supposed to be smoother!” But what if it is not? What if it only gets rougher? What if the lesson of life is, “Take up your cross and follow me?”
Twenty-first Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jesus wasn’t conducting a straw poll when he asked his disciples. “Who do people say I am?” Neither was he having an identity crisis when he asked, “Who do you say that I am?” The passage we have as today’s gospel reading (Mt 16:13-20) emerged from the needs of the early Christian communities than from Jesus’ need to know what people thought of him.
Matthew’s composition of the gospel reading consists of two sections. The first part consists of two questions, “Who do people say that I am?” and “Who do you say that I am?” It concludes with with Peter’s confession, “You are the Christ, the Son of the Living God” (Mt 16:16). This section gives the readers an insight into Jesus’ identity. The second part is Jesus’ declaration of Peter as the “rock on which I will build my church” (Mt 16:18). This Church, even “the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it.” (Mt 16:18). This section gives the readers an insight into the Church. The part that focuses on Jesus’ identity we can call Matthew’s Christology (because it talks about Christ’s identity), and the part that focuses on the church we can call Matthew’s ecclesiology (because it talks about the Church).
Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time
A few years ago, I was at a parish council meeting. It began with the gospel reading we heard today, where Jesus says to the Canaanite woman, "It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs” (Mt 15:26). One of the parish council members, who was also a mother, said something very interesting about Jesus’ response. She said, “A mother will do anything for her children, even be willing to be called a dog.” And then she said, “It took a persistent mother to teach the world that God belongs to all and all belong to God!”
Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Last Sunday was the feast of the Transfiguration. In the practical implications for the homily last Sunday, I remember suggesting that this altar is our mountain of Transfiguration, and that each Sunday is our Transfiguration Day. I remember saying that the Eucharist is where Jesus and our life come together. Here our life mingles with God’s life. Here we enter into Communion – God with us and we with God. And then, with Jesus we go down the mountain and face life for another week.
Today, I would like to focus on our life down the mountain. How do God and life come together as we go back into the world? How do we bring faith and life together Monday through Friday? How do we have ‘up the mountain’ moments on our ‘down the mountain’ days? I would like to propose three ways to bring faith and life together.