Third Sunday of Easter
I was to travel to India tomorrow. My eighty-eight-year-old mother is waiting to me. We have been talking about it for months. But then, the war has presented a total conundrum. My transit airport is Doha, Qatar. It is a hotspot in the war. Even though the ceasefire has brought some normalcy to the flights, the war is far from over. Any escalation can make my trip very risky. It is not merely about making it home. It is also about making it back for First Holy Communion Mass on May 16. After agonizing over all this for over a month, my family and I decided last Wednesday that it is best I do not travel. But I did not cancel my tickets. I almost did but I did. . But each day, amidst all the bad news, I was clinging to the faintest glimmer of hope. Finally, last night I rebooked my flight for June. I may not be going home tomorrow but I have not given up hope.
Second Sunday of Easter (or Sunday of Divine Mercy)
It was the 9am Easter day Mass at St. Helen. Perhaps many of you recall that I reflected on the resurrection of Jesus as the tenderness of God. Remember this when finish telling you the rest of the story.
The Resurrection of the Lord
There is a field of theology that is rarely mentioned but widely experienced - theodicy. Theodicy deals with reconciling God’s goodness with human suffering. The passion, suffering, and death of Jesus, for example. Where was God when Jesus cried, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned me” from the cross? This was the question that was posed to us as seminarians by the professor in our first ever theodicy class. His answer still remains fresh in my memory. He said, “God was closest to his Son on the cross. Jesus may not have felt that way. But in his excruciating moments God held Jesus closest to God’s heart. After all, Jesus’ final words were, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”
Palm Sunday of the Lord's Passion
I am doing something intentionally these days to keep my memory sharp. First, I am learning a new language. But more importantly, I am resisting letting technology do things for me that I can do myself. For example, instead of letting the cellphone dial the number, I try to memorize the number and punch it in. Instead of letting the computer fill my username and password, I do it myself. Human memory is a great gift I am trying to reclaim my memory where technology has caused us to surrender it.
Fifth Sunday of Lent
Over the three weeks, we have heard three stories – that of the Samaritan woman, the man born blind, and the resurrection of Lazarus. These stories are intentionally chosen by the church. They accomplish two goals that John’s gospel is telling its readers – that Jesus is the Christ and that salvation lies in coming to believe in him.
Fourth Sunday of Lent
There are at least eight accounts of Jesus healing blind people in the gospels. This does not account for others who may have been healed when he healed a large number of people. But the story in today’s gospel in unique from all these. The blind man did not come to Jesus pleading for a miracle. This healing was a consequence of a theological question the disciples asked – “Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?” (Jn 9:2). Jesus’ answer, “Neither… it is so that the works of God might be made visible through him” (Jn 9:3), should not be read as Jesus being dismissive of the blind man’s burdens. Jesus not only restored his sight, but he also treated him with great respect. Despite this, the opening the eyes of the blind man is the subplot of the story.
Third Sunday of Lent
“If you knew the gift of God….” These were Jesus’ words to Samaritan woman. She had come to the well to draw water. Jesus’ first words to her were, “Give me a drink” (Jn 4:7). Her first words in response to him were, “How can you, a Jew, ask me, a Samaritan woman, for a drink?” It is impossible that Jesus was not aware of the hostility between the Jews and the Samaritans. He chose the higher road as he responded, “If you knew the gift of God, and who is saying to you, ‘Give me a drink,’ you would have asked him and he would have given you living water” (Jn 4:10).
Second Sunday of Lent
Jesus was making his final journey toward Jerusalem. Please don’t take this lightly. The gospel of Matthew describes Jesus’ ministry as a purposeful journey toward Jerusalem. Jesus was purposefully and decisively moving toward Jerusalem. Even though he did go to Jerusalem with his parents for the Passover, and he is found at the temple in Jerusalem for one of the temptations, most of Jesus’ ministry was in the Galilee area. It was not a purposeless wandering. Jesus’ entire ministry was an intentional, purposeful, and decisive movement toward Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, his life and God’s plan for salvation would move toward a decisive climax. In Jerusalem, he would also meet his end. The Transfiguration happened right before he entered Jerusalem for the last time.
First Sunday of Lent
I find the account of the temptation of Jesus in the desert both very intriguing and fascinating. Forty days and three temptations are packed into mere eleven verses. I wish there was more we could know. For example, what did he do for forty days and forty nights beside fast and pray. Were there more than three temptations? Did each temptation just come and go, or did they last for several days? For the second and third temptations, did he leave the desert for Jerusalem and later to a high mountain or was he led there in his mind?
Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time
In the last few Sundays, the first and second readings may have been from different parts of scripture, but the gospel reading has had a seamless progression. We have been reading from Matthew’s Sermon on the Mountain. We began with Jesus going up the mountain. While the crowd stayed at the foot of the mountain, some came up to Jesus. Those who went up to him were called disciples. To them, Jesus proclaimed the Beatitudes. Last Sunday, Jesus said to these very disciples, “You are the salt of the earth,” and “You are the light of the world” (Mt 5:13-14). Today, we hear about how we become the people in the Beatitudes; how we can be the salt of the earth and light for the world. Jesus does this by laying out an ethic for his disciples. Commandments and how we understand them play a big part in this.
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
I had just been newly ordained. I was twenty-eight. I had a meeting scheduled with my religious superior for a new assignment. It was a bright sunny day in Bangalore, India. It was morning peak hour traffic as I set out on my brand-new Hero Honda Splendor – a popular motor bike in those days. Midway through my commute, I saw a man lying face down on the road, with his rag picking bag still on his back. Rag pickers pick up recycling materials from public trash bins to make a living. It is a huge industry in India. Everything inside me told me to stop and help this man as the rest of world drove by. After all, I was a priest. I cannot explain to you or even to myself, why I did not stop. It was so uncharacteristic of me. After twelve years of seminary training, after having said Mass that very morning, despite carrying a desire to change the world, I did not stop when it mattered. It is thirty-two years since that day. It haunts me even today. I wish I could go back and make it right. I cannot.
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The nation is in turmoil. There is division, there is anger, there are protests, there are counter-protests, there is violence, there are deaths. Where do we go from here? How do we return to respect, civility and trust? What can lead us to a just and peaceful society? Perhaps, today’s scripture readings have the answer.
Third Sunday in Ordinary Time
There is something interesting about the way today’s gospel reading describes the beginning of Jesus’s public ministry - the incredible geographical details. Five locations are mentioned – Nazareth, Capernaum, the Sea of Galilee, Zebulun and Naphtali. "At the news of John’s arrest, Jesus left Nazareth and went to live in Capernaum, a coastal town of the Sea of Galilee in the region of Zebulun and Naphtali" (Mt 4:12-13).
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Last Sunday we celebrated the feast of the Baptism of Jesus. Central to the story was the testimony of a voice from heaven that said, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased!” (Mt 3:16-17). In my homily last week, I had said, that because our baptism is a participation in the baptism of Jesus, our baptism becomes a spiritual adoption as son and daughters of God. I also remember saying that just as Jesus was good at being a Son, we must be good at being sons and daughters; that since it is baptism that makes us Christian, we must good at being Christians.
The Baptism of the Lord
What are you good at? I mean, what is it you really love doing or being… and you are good at it? I have someone who does housekeeping for me once a week. She has been with me for about five years. When she was new to my place, one of the things she told me was that she loves to clean. I did not believe her. But then, I could see it in her work. She did not just work at my place. She cleaned. She didn’t just clean. She cared for me and my space. She constantly watches videos on better ways to clean the oven, the stove, the floor, the carpet. I love the way she folds my laundry and puts them back, the way she makes the bed, the way to place smells when she is done. She even makes a flower out of the toilet paper. I feel happy coming back home when has cleaned. One day I said to her, “You don’t just clean, you care! Thank you!”
The Epiphany of the Lord
Epiphany is one of the oldest Christian feasts. It predates Christmas. Even though it makes sense chronologically, originally, Epiphany was not a post-Christmas celebration. In the early Church, Epiphany was the primary feast commemorating Jesus' birth, baptism, and the Magi's visit all on the same day. It was only in the 4th century when the Western Church adopted December 25th as Christmas that Epiphany became a distinct feast. It came to be celebrated as a "manifestation" feast – a celebration of God's revelation of Jesus as Messiah to the world.
Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph
I grew up in a very devout Catholic family. Perhaps, it was devout to a fault. We went to church all the time, my brother and I went to Catholic school, there was family prayer morning and evening, there were holy pictures in every room, and often at weekends a priest or nun was at the family dinner table. As my brother and I got older, some of this seemed a little too much. One day, my brother had had it. Truly upset about something, he said to my dad, “Coming back home from anywhere feels like I am going to church.” My brother meant is as a critique. My father took it as a compliment. After all, the home is called the “domestic church.” My family was not the perfect family. But then, which family is? Perhaps this the reason that a feast dedicated to the family is so appropriate.
The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas)
It is the greatest love story – the story of Christmas. There is a God. There is humanity. And there is a little child. As the gospel says, “For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord” (Lk 2:11).
Fourth Sunday of Advent
“The LORD spoke to Ahaz” (Is 7:10). This is an interesting beginning to today’s first reading from Isaiah. In that brief reading, the destiny of a kingdom, the fate of a divine Covenant, and the prophecy of a future Messiah (whose name is Emmanuel), is at stake. The scene is similar in the gospel reading. “The Angel of LORD spoke to Joseph” (Mt 1;20). Nothing less is at stake. At stake once again is a kingdom, a Covenant, and the fulfilment of a messianic prophecy. I don’t envy Ahaz or Joseph. Standing at a crossroad with having to make decision that have widespread implications is not an enviable position.
Third Sunday of Advent
I did not have Mass last Sunday evening. I decided to take my puppy out for a walk around the Church. It was almost half-way through Mass, and I saw a woman trying walking toward the Church. We have probably seen each other, but this was the first we had met to speak. Thirty seconds into the conversation, she said to me, “Father, I want you to pray for me!” Before I could even ask, she said, “My husband and I are in the midst of a divorce. I have experienced all kinds of abuse – emotional, physical, sexual. And now he trying to alienate our children from me!” She gave me a few more details and I sensed that she could have gone on. But I did not want her to miss Mass even if it was the later bit of it. I encouraged her to go into Church and pray and offered to meet with her if she would reach out.