The Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ
What is the most precious thing you have gifted to someone? You’d probably agree with me that the dearer the person, the more generous we are. The more we love somebody the more deeply we give. Think of today’s feast of Corpus Christi as God’s complete and total self-gift to us. It is an expression not only of God’s immense love for us, but also of how precious we are to God.
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
When it comes to the Holy Trinity, good and smart preachers ultimately end their sermons saying, “It’s a Mystery!” Not just the concept of the Trinity, but ultimately, God is mystery. Today, I am going where I have been hesitant to go before in my reflections on the Trinity. I am approaching this homily from the perspective of ‘mystery.’
A few years back, I composed a prayer for the parish as we observed the year of the Eucharist. The prayers began addressing God as Father, Mother, Creator, and Friend. For years, it is how I had addressed God in my personal prayer. The parish was fine with it, and we prayed it for a whole year. One day, though, we had an out-of-state visitor at one of the Sunday Masses. He had come to Dayton for his son’s soccer tournament. Being fervent Catholics, he made sure that they attended Mass. I think it is commendable. After Mass, however, he met me in the vestibule, and castigated me about the prayer. He said his son was now totally confused because we addressed God as father and mother. I offered every possible explanation, but he was not convinced. Finally, he left saying he was going to write to the archbishop. He did, but the actually went to Fr. Dave. You can imagine my relief. Fr. Dave replied to him backing my theological reasoning. That was the last I heard about it.
Pentecost Sunday
In these long months of the pandemic, one of the greatest inconveniences we have adopted is the mask. Among other things, the mask protected others and us from the impure breath. Moreover, one of the common symptoms of having the virus was the inability to breathe. Many simply died from the lack of breath. Breath – it is the difference between life and death. Breath is life and life is breath. No breath, no life. No life, no breath.
Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord
I would like to reflect on the feast of the Ascension in two parts. The first part is the reality of the ascension of Jesus. As sure as the death and resurrection of Jesus, scripture recounts the ascension of Jesus with total confidence and certainty. (Acts 1:1-11). Today, like the disciples who were left behind in wonderment and awe, perhaps we too are left in amazement. Yet, do we have questions? I am sure we do! Nevertheless, the ascension of Jesus remains an essential article of our faith.
The second part is the ‘great commission.’ In the Markan version of the great commission Jesus says to his disciples, “Go into the whole world and proclaim the gospel to every creature” (Mk 16:15). Today’s the scripture readings not only introduce us to this mission, but also the suggests the spirit in which the gospel must be proclaimed to the whole world and to every creature.
Sixth Sunday of Easter
It is common for me to meet with couples who are at a critical juncture in their marriage. Sometimes the problem is about finances, communication, or divergent views on important issues. On rare occasions, there is a deeper problem - there is no love left. At least for one of them, not only is the love totally gone, but they do not even have the energy to try to rediscover it. I believe that if there is even an ounce of love, the relationship can be salvaged. But once love is lost, all is lost. Whether it is marriage, family, friendship, or work, once love is lost, everything is lost, is it not? What good is it if there is no love?
If religion was not about love, would you still be a believer? If heaven was not the fulness of love, would you still strive for it? If we did not know “God is love”, would we still love God? If salvation does not lead us into divine love, would we desire it? Think about these questions this week. All I can say is that of all the ways in which God is described in the scriptures, none motivates me to be a believer than John’s description, “God is love.”
Fifth Sunday of Easter
There is a story my second-grade teacher told us in my catechism class. Strangely, I still remembered the story as I read today’s scripture. One day, Michelangelo walking through a garden in Florence, saw a block of marble in a corner protruding from the earth. It was half covered by grass and mud. He stopped suddenly as if he had seen someone. Then he said to his friends who were with him, exclaimed: "An angel is imprisoned in that marble; I must set him free." And, armed with a chisel, he began to work on that block until the figure of a beautiful angel emerged. The teacher continued, “Each of us is an angel in the making. And God is the artist. The chisel is the Word of God. God uses his word to bring out the best in us.” Later when I got older, I verified the truth of Michelangelo’s story. It turns out, that my teacher was correct. The angel is now in the Basilica of St Dominic in Bologna, Italy.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
Recently, I acquired some baby chickens. I figured it would better to spend money on a hobby than on therapy. Nevertheless, taking care of these chicks has been very interesting. Besides feeding them well, I have to make sure I take them out during the day when it is warmer and bring them inside on cold nights. The first day I put them outside, there were three hawks circling over the coop. A little carelessness and the chicks would be food for the predators. My biggest challenge is to protect them from yet another fierce predator – sweet little Tutu. She is having a rough time. All her life I have taught her to fetch, and she simply cannot understand why I will not allow her to fetch the chicks. Since I got the baby chickens, I have been given some interesting pseudo names. Somebody called me a ‘chicken-tender’ the other day. Someone even called me a ‘chick magnet.’ Just so you know, the real term for someone who tends chickens is, ‘poulterer’ or a ‘chicken farmer.’
Third Sunday of Easter
It is rare for all three Sunday liturgy readings to have a common theme. Today is one of those rare Sundays. Sin, repentance, forgiveness, and reconciliation—we discover that all of these themes are prominent in each reading, in one way or another.
What sins? Repentance from what? Reconciliation—but how? We understand the meaning of personal sin, personal repentance, and personal forgiveness in the Sacrament of Reconciliation. But there are also social sins, social repentance, and social reconciliation—sins that affect us as the human family. Today I could easily have chosen to write a feel-good reflection about sin and reconciliation, and everybody would go home happy. But I am going to take a cue from Peter, in today’s First Reading (Acts 3:14-15) and muster the courage to reflect on the more complicated, complex, and difficult aspect of sin and reconciliation—the social dimension.
Second Sunday of Easter, Sunday of Divine Mercy
This is the story of Maria Faustina Kowalska, the nun to whom we owe the Divine Mercy Devotion. She lived for a brief 33 years. That is the same number of years we assume Jesus lived. Born in Głogoweic, Poland, in1905, she first felt the call to become a religious at the age of 7. Her parents refused her because of her young age. Then at 16, after a social dance at a park, she literally ran away from home to go to Warsaw. She knocked at the doors of many convents but no place would accept her. One of them even said, “We do not accept maids here!” Finally, when the mother superior of the Congregation of the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy did receive her, she did not have the money to pay for her religious habit. She then worked as a housemaid to make the money she needed. After her religious profession, and then as a nun, she was often assigned menial tasks, sometimes as a cook and other times as a gardener in the convents. It was during these times that Christ was beginning to reveal himself to her as ‘Divine Mercy.’
Easter Sunday The Resurrection of the Lord
A question has always plagued my mind. If the incarnation of Jesus, his life, his death and resurrection was indeed meant to be the turning point in human history, then why is the world still a mess? What really is the implication of the death and resurrection of Jesus? Here we are in Church, celebrating Easter! But in various parts of the world violence is still raging, wars are still being fought, children are still dying of hunger, human life is still being unconscionably destroyed, creation is still being ravaged by our endless consumerism, and we cannot even still fathom that beneath the color of our skin we are all God’s children. You would think that a global pandemic could bring us all together. We have surrendered even that opportunity. Don’t get me wrong. I am not being pessimistic. I am not looking at the glass half-empty. I am not oblivious to the presence of immense goodness in the world. I am merely regretting that the power and potential of the resurrection of Jesus has not yet been realized. Perhaps I am too eager to see God original vision for the world realized in the here and now.
Palm Sunday of the Lord’s Passion
We have been through a lot in the last one year. As the human race, as a global community, as the people of God, we have been ground in the mill. Yes, today we can see the light at the end of the tunnel, but the memories and the experience of the pandemic is still very fresh in our minds. Many of us are still grieving. Many of us are still hurting. Many of us are still enduring losses. Many of us still need help. The toll that the pandemic has taken of our physical, mental, emotional, fiscal, and spiritual health is simply incalculable. And then, there is our humanity. Our pride, our dignity, our self-reliance, our self-sufficiency have also taken a hit. Indeed, we have been through a lot the last one year.
Fifth Sunday of Lent
This is the story of Sr. Ann Rose Nu Tawng, a Burmese nun. As we are aware, recently the military assumed power in Burma (Myanmar) in a coup that overthrew the democratically elected government. Many young people have since taken to the streets in peaceful protests. Unfortunately, the military has resorted to violence and indiscriminate shooting upon the protestors, and as a result many young people are now dead.
On that day, a group of young protestors were escaping the brutal violence unleashed by the military police. They protestors took refuge at a clinic run by the nuns where Sr. Ann Rose Nu Tawng was a community member. The police were there right away to take the young people to task. Kneeling before the heavily armed military police, Sister Ann Rose begged the police officers to spare the youngsters. She pleaded with them and said, “Take my life, instead!” The image of the Catholic nun in a simple white habit, spreading her hand and pleading with the authorities has since gone viral. That day, many lives were spared. The courage and the sense of self-sacrifice of this unarmed, defenseless, yet brave nun has captured the imagination of the world. It is a striking echo of what Jesus says in the gospel reading, “Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit” (Jn 12:24).
Fourth Sunday of Lent
The parish has always maintained its archives. Recently, the staff made a humungous effort to clean and organize it. But we have also begun something new. We have begun a book of chronicles. We have begun to record significant happenings of the week. The goal is that future generations can have an insight into the community in more detail that the bulletins provide. Hopefully when future generations read these chronicles, they will encounter not just an institution, an organization, or a parish, but a community of disciples – a community that thinks, talks, and acts like Jesus.
Third Sunday of Lent
Human nature - there is much to be said about human nature. We have heard the saying, “To err is human; to forgive is divine.” At its core, this saying is about nature – human nature and divine nature. Or think about the times you wanted to do one thing but ultimately did something totally opposite. And you wonder, why! Here is an example from my life. During Lent, the day I decide to fast, that is the day I feel more hungry than other days. I blame it on human nature.
Second Sunday of Lent
There are things we know, there are things we don’t know, and then there is the unknown. The things we know help us to manage life. The things we do not know, we try to learn and master. But the unknown is what unnerves us. The unknown when someone loses their job; the unknown when divorce hits a family; the unknown when someone loses their spouse; the unknown when someone awaits a transplant; the unknown when someone is deployed; the unknown when someone we know battles addiction;, the unknown when someone is diagnosed with terminal illness; the unknown when someone goes missing – these unknowns take a heavy toll.
First Sunday of Lent
Yesterday, I celebrated the funeral of the woman who gave me my favorite Lent story. She was a very pious woman and had a great sense of humor. I visited her a couple of years back on Ash Wednesday because she had requested ashes. After the prayers, she asked me what I was giving up for Lent. Honestly, I don’t remember what my response was. And then she winked and said, “I am giving YOU up for Lent.” It was one of those rare times when I did not have a comeback.
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Within the span of one month, twice I have had to self-quarantine for seven days each. And then, to break the quarantine, I have had to get myself tested for COVID-19. Until the test results came, I have had to avoid physical contact with others. If I violate the laws governing my quarantine, I run the risk of endangering another person’s life. Moreover, whether at home in India or here in Dayton, I have had to announce my presence to avoid contact with others. After fourteen days of quarantine, let me say this out loud, “I hate it!” Now, can you imagine being quarantined for the rest of life? Perhaps, the pandemic and its implications for family, social, and religious life gives us a tiny window into the life of a leper in Jesus’ time. The only difference is that for a leper in Jesus’ time, being certified a leper was a death sentence. Even worse, leprosy was considered a punishment for sin. In this sense leprosy imposed and social, economic, and religious isolation that was literally a death sentence. No wonder, then, that were often called the ‘living dead.’
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
If there ever is a time when I want to reflect on the book of Job, this isn’t that week. Job's experiences make him reflect on life and say, “Is not man's life on earth a drudgery?” (Job 7:1). Drudgery is one of my favorite words in the English language, but it is also a distressing word. Drudgery is an immensely burdensome state of being. I have just returned from home leaving my eighty-four-year mother behind. I wish I could put into words the sadness, the grief, heartache my mother and I feel. As I left home this time, I did not feel that I was merely leaving home. I felt that I was abandoning her. Yes, my life still has meaning, my ministry is still my life, and I am surrounded by very some supportive people, but at the moment, life feels like drudgery. My mother feels the same. My mother and I have our share of drudgery and you have yours. And certainly, the pandemic makes all this even harder. Perhaps I would not be wrong if I said that at the moment we are in global drudgery. Drudgery is real.
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sunday of the Word of God
In normal circumstances, to compose a homily based on the call of Jonah or the call of Andrew, Simon, James and John would not be a very difficult task. But we are not living in normal times, are we? We are living in very tumultuous time. We are only days into a new administration in the nation, and the days that led up to it have been marked by uncertainty, violence, and death. I can only hope that immaterial of people’s diverse political loyalties, healing does begin after the inauguration. The focus of my homily is not politics, however. My focus is on discernment, more specifically, genuinely discerning God’s call. For instance, especially amidst the political turmoil in our nation, many Christians considered their political activism to be a divinely ordained. Many of them even resorted to violence believing that they were carrying out a divine mandate. Many Christians claimed that they were answering a divine call. Were they right? Were they wrong?
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
At one of the Masses for our school students, the reading was about the kingdom of heaven. I began my homily by asking the students where they thought heaven was. There was a 7th grader in the very first row who was desperate to answer my question. “Go!” I said to him. Enthusiastically he stood up, pointed towards the sky and said, “There!” Isn’t it true that even as adults we point upwards when we talk about heaven? Don’t we always look up when we refer to God? And don’t we always point downward when we talk about hell. Yet the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches us that heaven “does not mean a place ("space"), but a way of being” (2794). Why blame a 7th grader? I think we adults too hold very primitive views on our concept of heaven, hell and the kingdom of God.