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.
Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord
I was in conversation with a friend about life. We are both facing life-challenges. Somewhere in the conversation, I said, “Sometimes, life does not offer us choices.” Perhaps you have experienced this yourself. Those who get diagnosed with terminal illness, for example, or when we lose a loved one, or when an accident changes the course of our lives – life does not offer us choices. All we can do is face the reality and pray for strength and grace.
Seventeenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
This homily is not based exclusively on today’s scripture readings but the readings of the last two Sundays as well. There is a unity in these readings that made me look at the readings together. For example, the gospel readings of the last three Sundays have been from Matthew 13 and the eight parables of Jesus provide the unity to this chapter. Similarly, the first reading last Sunday and today are from the book of Wisdom and provide some common themes for reflection.
I have chosen to draw themes from the readings of last two Sundays and today’s readings to prepare this reflection. I would like to make three points. These points are not necessarily connected but rather offer three themes for us to consider.
Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The 13th Chapter of Matthew’s gospel is a unique composition by the author. There are two things that make it unique. First, it contains eight parables and sometimes together they are called the “day of the parables.” The second unique feature is that, as beautiful as the parables are, the focus is not the parables themselves. The focus is on the “mysteries of the reign of God. Towards the middle of today’s gospel Matthew says, “All these things Jesus spoke to the crowds in parables. He spoke to them only in parables, to fulfill what had been said through the prophet: “I will open my mouth in parables, I will announce what has lain hidden from the foundation [of the world].” (Mt 13:34-35). The parable of the Sower and the Seeds last Sunday and parables of the weeds among the wheat, the parable of the mustard seed, and the parable of the yeast in the dough all reveal some deeper reality of God’s kingdom.
In a very real sense, then, to focus merely on the parables is to miss the point. We should really be focusing on the mysteries of the Kingdom of God that these parables reveal.
I want to offer three points for us to reflect upon.
Looking Deeper
After Jesus shared the parable of the Sower and the Seed, the disciples asked him, “Why do you speak to them in parables?” Jesus replied, “This is why I speak to them in parables, because they look but do not see and hear but do not listen or understand.” And then Jesus ends the parables by saying, “Whoever has ears ought to hear!” I understand Jesus’ answer to mean that the parables are not merely stories with a twist or a moral. Parables are about a pedagogy – a method of teaching and learning. Parables by their nature invite us to look deeper. Only the one willing to look deeper will go beyond the parable. And to only the one who is willing to go deeper will the mysteries of the kingdom of God be revealed.
Here is the practical implication of Jesus’ parables for us. Because of technology and our numerous gadgets and apps, we have to make a heroic effort to overcome superficiality. An average adult spends between 1 – 1:15 hours of quality time on their smart phone. This adds up to 7 – 9 hours a week, 240 hours a month and 2,816 hours a year! Add to this the fact that life is hard for most of us. We spend hours at work or at school, there are children, grandchildren, and tough schedules to manage. Add to this the fact that materialism and consumerism has the power to strip us of our capacity for depth. Jesus’ parables, on the other hand, are an invitation to seek the deeper realities of life. In our superficial world, as Jesus says, we can often “hear but not understand; look but not see.” Today’s parables are inviting us to enter the mysteries of the Kingdom of God. How can we do that? We can do this prioritizing time and making time for prayer, meditation, silence, and contemplation.
Mystery of the Reign of God
The question that we should ask, then, is this: What mysteries are the parables revealing to us? Let us begin with today’s first reading. Wisdom says, “There is no God besides you who have the care of all. For your might is the source of justice and your mastery over all things makes you lenient to all” (Wis 12:13). In other words, God is not weak when God allows the weeds to grow among the wheat. Rather, as Wisdom says, “Though you are master of might, you judge with clemency… And you taught your people, by these deeds, that those who are just must be kind; and you gave your children good ground for hope that you would permit repentance for their sins” (Wis 12:16-19).
This mystery is further revealed to us in Jesus’ life. The parable of the weeds among the wheat deals with the mixed reception to Jesus’ message and ministry. Even in the post-resurrection world, some accepted Jesus and some rejected him. This is true today as well. How do we deal with the reality that some accept Jesus and other do not? The mystery that the parable of the weeds among the wheat reveals is that even though God is immensely just, powerful, and mighty, God is also immensely kind, merciful, and loving. God is patience and tolerant. God never takes away the hope that even the worse sinner may have. God is a God of second, third, limitless chances.
Small Beginnings, Great Results
There are two other parables in today’s gospel – the parable of the mustard seed and the yeast in the dough. What mysteries do these parables reveal. As I see it, these parables highlight the contrast between small beginnings and great results.
Take for example the life and ministry of Jesus. It all began with the birth of a child in a stable in small town called Bethlehem. Jesus grew up began his ministry and found both acceptance and rejection in his lifetime. He was innocence itself yet was the most merciful. He was omnipotent God yet became powerless on the cross to show us God’s love. He was the Son of Justice yet suffered injustice so that reconciliation may ever remain a possibility. He was the author of life yet endured death to lead sinners to the Kingdom of God. This one solitary life changed the course of human history. Jesus is that one mustard seed. Jesus is the leaven in the dough of the world.
Leavened by the life, message, and ministry of Jesus of Jesus, now we become the leaven in the world. The reign of God is real. It may not be accepted by all. But we become the mustard seeds, the little leaven, the one solitary life that can continue the mission Jesus began. In small ways, we continue to be the positive influence in the world.
Today in Communion we receive a little bread and little wine. It is the leaven which leavens our lives. Let us allow Jesus’ life to transform us and instead become the leaven of the world. Amen.
Fr. Satish Joseph
Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Parables was one of the most brilliant strategies that Jesus used to teach his disciples the truths of God’s kingdom. Jesus’ parables were even more meaningful because he used imageries and analogies from daily life to compose these parables. Thus, the parable of the “Sower and the Seed” draws heavily from the Palestinian agrarian life. It is one of richest parables in the gospels.
Parables by nature are open ended. We can draw multiple meanings from a single parable. For that matter, a parable never runs out of meanings. Let me draw at least three meanings from the parable of the Sower and the Seed.
Fourteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Perhaps, there is some truth to the statement that much of what we know and are, is learned. A newborn child inherits many things from his or her parents, but at birth its mind is also like a sponge. Much of what the child learns depends on home and social environment. It hears, sees, tastes, realizes, and learns many things as it grows. It learns behaviors, attitudes, and perspectives form others. Ultimately, much of who we are and know, and most of how we think, act, and live, is learned.
Thirteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
When I lived in India, I didn’t realize how kind and hospitable the Indian people are. Now that I visit home a couple of times a year, it strikes me that I come from a very hospitable culture. I experienced this hospitality yet again as we moved my mom from her home to live with my brother and niece’s families. Throughout all the travels, the transition, and the move, people’s care and respect for the elderly touched me deeply. Mom was treated with such regard and care that I really believe that she could have travelled alone and reached home safe. From strangers rushing to offer us a hand to people going out of their way to help, it was a heartwarming, reassuring, uplifting, encouraging, and moving experience. There are somethings that define our humanity. Kindness, goodness, hospitality, generosity are just a few of them.
The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity
Religion in is a complex phenomenon. It is also a multidimensional reality. In the Christian context, for example, the origin of our faith lies in divine revelation. But then, it encompasses scripture, doctrines, rites, communal rituals, devotions, practices, houses of worship, the hierarchy, canon law, and much more. Much of religious activity also needs finances, administrative staff, and volunteers to carry its mission. The working together of all these elements is complicated. When we add the concept of mystery to this already complicated network, religion is a complex and multidimensional phenomenon. For example, today we celebrate the Feast of the Most Holy Trinity. Theologians have written volumes to fill an entire library about the Trinity. Yet, at the end of it all, they all come to the same conclusion – that it is a mystery.
Pentecost Sunday
As Christians, when we think of the Pentecost, there is one image that is uppermost in our minds – a might wind blowing and tongues of fire falling on the disciples. But the Feast of the Pentecost has a rich history and today I would like us to explore the depths of its meaning. This is more of a catechesis on Pentecost than a homily.
The Ascension of the Lord
I have a letter with me, written by my mother on August 10, 1992. I had been in the seminary for 9 years and I had just two years left for my ordination. An experience in the seminary plunged me into a full-blown crisis of vocation. So, I wrote home a handwritten letter. E-mail was just beginning, and cellphones were practically non-existent. I did not give any details, but it was clear to my parents that I was having some difficulty in the seminary. I may have even mentioned that I was contemplating a leave of absence. About ten days later, I received this handwritten letter from my mother. Among other things, she wrote: “If you cannot continue, I am telling you as I have said always, “Our door is always open. I have no intention to make you a priest. If you find it difficult, get out early. I am only waiting for your ordination to retire. Find a good job in Bangalore and settle the matter. Nothing to worry. I am with you.” With the assurance that my mother gave me, anybody would think that I would have quit. However, my mother’s letter had the opposite effect. Call it reverse psychology but, I said to myself, “If my mother is with me, I can weather any storm.” I am not sure I understood it completely then, but I didn’t quit, and two years later, I was ordained. At my ordination, my mother stood before me in tears as I gave her my first priestly ordination.
I was barely seventeen. Leaving home to go the seminary was the most difficult call I answered. This decision was even more difficult because, for the first time, I would not see my family for two long years. My mother and I suffered the most. My mother was very proud and supportive of my decision, but it was also as if she was losing her son. My parents came with me to Bangalore (about 850 miles my home) to drop me off. They stayed with me a few days and then the day came for them to return home.
Fifth Sunday of Easter
My family is going through a transition. It all centers around my mom. My brother and I are both deeply committed to her and want to offer her the happiest, healthiest, and love-filled years as she continues to age. There is only one problem. We are all in different places. My brother is with his daughter in Bangalore helping her and her husband with two kids who are merely 13 months apart. My brother’s wife in another city has three more years of employment. Mom is in deep South in Kerala. And her ‘favorite son’ is more than 9000 miles away in Dayton.
Fourth Sunday of Easter
There are a few things that are common to all of humanity. We all feel hunger, for example. We are all sinners. We all long for love and acceptance. There is another thing that unites us all – suffering. There is no human being that can escape suffering. Money, riches, wealth, fame, power, education, status, or influence – nothing helps us from escaping suffering. Particularly we immigrants have our unique share of suffering.
Third Sunday of Easter
What a beautiful thing 'presence' is. It is free. It is tangible. It is real. I have just returned from India. I went to see my mother who was simply not bouncing back ever since she got a pacemaker. I was with her for just a week. When I first saw her, I found her in better shape than I anticipated but not as strong as I had seen her in January. My brother’s tender loving care had brought her a long way since her surgery. But she needed to see me. She needed to see me as much as I wanted to see her. I cannot tell you the good being with each other did to both of us. When I left, she was better than she was just seven days back.
What a beautiful things human presence is. Nothing heals, noting comforts, and nothing reassures more than human presence, human closeness, and human touch.
The Resurrection of the Lord
Pardon me, for my Easter homily is going to begin with Good Friday. After all, if there was no Good Friday, there would be no Easter Sunday. I would like to present three things about Good Friday, which if we think a little differently, can also help us to reflect upon the Easter event a little more deeply. None of these changes the fact the Jesus is raised from the dead. Perhaps, it will enrich our understanding of the resurrection of Jesus.
Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion
Memory is everything. Amnesia is like a death. This Tuesday, I lost my dear uncle, my dad’s only surviving brother. My uncle was 83 years old. He was the primary caregiver of his wife who suffers from chronic dementia. It is truly tragic because almost after fifty years of marriage, aunt’s memory is scant. Without dementia, her awareness and grief of her husband’s death would be very different. But now, her memory is failing her. It is true, she is alive, but without memory, everything has become nothing.