Shepherd of an evangelical community: Homily for Good Shepherd Sunday Eastertide 2024

"Trinity of Mother Teresa," M.F.Hussain, 1989, via Artiana.com

I am the good shepherd,

and I know mine and mine know me,

just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;

and I will lay down my life for the sheep.

Dear Brothers and Sisters,

It is common to take today’s readings and speak about God’s love for us. And yet this almost instant reference to God’s love, a banal lens that we automatically apply, can blind us to an important fact. Remember that for the shepherd, each sheep is precious, not because they are pretty, or they are his pets, and he is fond of them. They are precious because they cost him money, they have a very real value. And this is precisely the sense in which Jesus uses the term for us. As we are reminded in the first letter of Peter:

You know that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your ancestors, not with perishable things like silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without defect or blemish (1: 18-19).

So precious are we that He purchases us by giving His life for us, and for this reason we are doubly precious to Him who created us.

But if the readings remind us for the visceral nature of God’s love for us, these readings should also cut our hearts into ribbons, because they force us to ask ourselves very hard questions about what we have done, and are doing, for this God who loves us so much and expects a reciprocal love.

Listen to His words which we often overlook:

I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.

These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice,

and there will be one flock, one shepherd.

These other sheep, that do not belong to this fold, are very easy to identify; they are those who are not yet members of His one true, Catholic, and apostolic Church. And why are they not yet members? Is it, possibly, because we have not done anything to invite them into this Church?

We from Goa must ask this question very seriously. What kind of a church are we? Are we a church that is largely a cultural outfit? A church that is happy to be reduced to a minority? Or are we a church which is evangelical? A church that will preach Christ to our brothers and sisters who do not yet know him, and will be willing to make a place for them in our lives? Are we willing to proclaim loudly as Peter did in the first reading today:

 

He is the stone rejected by you, the builders,

which has become the cornerstone.

There is no salvation through anyone else,

nor is there any other name under heaven

given to the human race by which we are to be saved.

You need give me no answer, because the silence is screaming for all, and all the world can hear it!

Now I do not deny that these are difficult times, and that the current political situation is tense. Indeed, I acknowledge that the political scenario is, in fact, very dangerous. But the question is not what we can do today, indeed, the question is, what have we, the spiritual children of St. Francis Xavier, been doing for the past few decades?

Further, I am not even suggesting that we should be out on the streets preaching, rather I suggest that we should be doing is asking if our lives are even worthy of imitation. St. Francis of Assisi is alleged to have said “Preach the Gospel at all times. If necessary, use words.” Do people look at the way we live our lives, the way in which we interact with our neighbours and say, “Look how these Christians love one another! How I would like to be like them!”

The lyrics of the psalm has words of advice for us:

It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in man.

It is better to take refuge in the LORD

than to trust in princes.

There used to be a time when the average Goan Catholic was the paragon of the God-fearing. You could rely on their sense of honesty. Today one would be hard pressed to find such a Goan.

And so Goan life today, both in Goa and outside of Goa, is largely one concerned with the accumulation of money. We fight with our siblings for money, we poison people to capture family property, we have Goan gangs fighting each other in foreign countries. We have forgotten that education is not about gaining a way to make money, but really a way to gain values. Speaking of values, we refuse to consider that we may ever be wrong! We assert ourselves wherever we can, even on the roads, violating all traffic norms – and being complicit in the high number of deaths that unfortunately take place on Goan roads.

In short, the contemporary Goan is so focused on the worldly, that there is no real space for the God whom we pay lip service to, or the God to whom we run to when we need a job, a house, a marriage. This is what it means to trust in man, where we do not trust in the divinely revealed value systems handed down to us, in the Our Lord’s promise of the eternal reward. Instead, we trust in man-made systems which offer earthly reward.

As if placing our trust in man was not enough, we also place our trust in princes, rather than taking refuge in God. The Catholic Bishops’ Conference of India (CBCI) recently requested Catholic educational institutions to recite the Preamble to the Constitution in the school assemblies. This reference to the Preamble has become a feature of Catholic activism in India.

Now, once again I recognize that at a time when the entire legal structure seems to be in crisis, and the very constitution seems ready to be overturned, it makes sense to make people aware of the importance of the constitution. However, we should also remember, what the psalm already suggests to us, that merely reciting the preamble to the Constitution is not going to save us.

As Pope Benedict XVI pointed out, our commitment to a liberal democracy, and particularly to the values of citizenship necessary for its sustenance, must necessarily be animated by the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity. Our commitment to these political values, therefore, come from outside of the sphere of electoral – and other – politics, they come from God and must involve God – a just God who promises eventual and lasting justice. This God, as we know, is Jesus Christ. This teaching is not unique to Pope Benedict XVI; Pope Saint John Paul II too, in his encyclical Veritatis Splendor, pointed out the intrinsic link between moral good and God. Without a relationship with God, morality becomes utilitarian or motivational, dependent on the benefit we hope to extract from our actions.

My dear brothers and sisters, in the face of the love of the Good Shepherd, we have only one task in our life. This is only to preach Christ through our lives and attract others to his herd. Let me make the words of St. Paul in his letter to the Romans my own:

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect (12: 1-2).

The will of God is that we live a virtuous life, cultivating in our lives the virtues, and that we shun the vices. If we do so, we will become the city set on a hill that cannot be hidden. Therefore, dear brothers and sister, as in the words of the Gospel, “let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven” (Mt 5:16).

(A version of this homily was first preached to the Goan community in Rome at their community mass on 21 April 2024)

Mercy and the Reign of God: Homily for Divine Mercy Sunday

 Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

For as long as I can remember I have looked forward to the second Sunday of Easter because of the first reading we heard today, the reading from the Acts of the Apostles. I have looked forward to this reading because it offers a powerful witness of what an authentic Christian community should look like:

The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common.

There was no needy person among them, for those who owned property or houses would sell them, bring the proceeds of the sale, and put them at the feet of the apostles, and they were distributed to each according to need.

Those of you who are sharp will have realised that I have not excerpted all the words from the already short reading. On the contrary, I have excluded the following words:

With great power the apostles bore witness to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great favour was accorded them all.

This exclusion was not a mistake, but intentional, because it reflects the way in which I used to understand authentic Christian community. This was an understanding that rested on a material understanding of the text – the division of goods, the sharing of goods. This exclusion communicates a vision that shares much in common with the socialist, and even communist, vision of the earthly utopia. And to be honest, it was only today, when I read this selection again that I realised how much had shifted since this reading first caught my attention.

What changed then? I suspect it has been the five years of priestly formation where I have had time to meditate on the teachings of our Holy Mother Church. Teaching which directs us to think, not of the natural, material, and earthly realm alone, but of the supernatural, and heavenly. Teaching that directs our attention not to our own efforts, but to the operation of Grace. Another word for this grace would be Divine Mercy which we celebrate this Sunday.

Once aware of the operation of Divine Mercy, this first reading takes on a whole new dimension, and the portion that I excluded – which, perhaps not coincidentally, sits in the middle of the whole reading - comes to shine like a gem in its setting. But let us re-read this scripture with the lens of Divine Mercy to see what it reveals to us.

“The community of believers was of one heart and mind.” This “one heart and mind” has to be the heart and mind of God, which is a heart of mercy. And, as we know, dear brothers and sisters, this heart of mercy is not a mere metaphor, a pretty mental image, but an actual, physical, heart. It is the very human heart of our Lord Jesus Christ which was pierced by a lance. This is the heart of mercy that roars with the fire of love for us. A heart that gathers us, and in which we participate when we can manifest the actions of mercy that this reading testifies to. When we recognise our neighbours, and share our goods with them, we are motivated by Our Lord’s heart of mercy.

A reflection on this heart of mercy makes us aware that nothing of what we have, and not just our material goods, but even the talents and skills that we own, none of what we have is ours; or in the words from Acts “no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own”. But rather, all these possessions are what have been given to us through an overflowing of this heart of mercy. As such, it was never intended solely for our own personal use, but always for the common good.

In having everything in common, the scripture goes on to tell us that it was “With great power the apostles bore witness.” This power, is nothing, dear brothers and sisters, but the power of the Holy Spirit that motivated the early Church, just as it can motivate us if we give it the opportunity. When we are good, it is not merely our own efforts, but our own efforts, prompted and supported by the power of the Holy Spirit.

“and great favour was accorded them all.” Working with the grace of Divine Mercy, draws further and greater graces as our Lord promises us in Luke chap 6 verse 38:

give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back. (Lk 6: 38)

We should bear in mind that this giving does not commence with us. Indeed, it was God who first gives, and forgives, and through His beating heart continues to pump mercy into our lives and world. Alive to this ever flowing river of divine mercy we should be bearers of the flux of life-giving water of mercy, for without mercy, this world is a harsh and cruel world.

What is the mark of the authentic church therefore? Reflecting on this reading from the Acts of the Apostles we realise that the authentic church is marked, not only by the sharing of material goods, but by the manifestation of mercy and action in the Spirit. A recognition that all we have comes from God, that our every good action emerges from the goodness that Christ feeds us with weekly at the altar, and from the movement of the Spirit that flows through the Church.

Let us repeat therefore, on this Sunday, and whenever we have empty minutes in our day:

“Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

(A version of this homily was first preached to the congregation at Domus Australia, Rome, on Saturday 6 April 2024.)

 

Ut Unum Sint: An Ecumenism of Blood

 

Something curious took place in the Catholic world earlier this year. On Thursday, the fifteenth of February, the Catholic Church celebrated the feast of the twenty-one Coptic martyrs killed by ISIS in 2015. The image of their martyrdom should be familiar to most people; they were dressed in orange jumpsuits and beheaded by masked men on a beach and video footage of this massacre uploaded by ISIS. The Coptic church declared them martyrs within a week, and the Catholic church recognised this status in 2023.

What is curious about this feast is that the Catholic Church is notorious for taking ages to add persons to the Roman martyrology, the official list of the saints. The elevation of persons to the altar involves investigations, deliberations and can be an exhausting process. Furthermore, the Coptic Church is not even in communion with the See of Rome!

This recognition, and celebration, of their martyrdom was made possible thanks to the development of an interesting, and valuable, concept known as the “ecumenism of blood.” To appreciate this concept one could do no better than turn to the words of Pope Francis himself in his address to the participants in the Conference of Secretaries of Christian World Communions, the international ecumenical association that meets annually in October. Before this, however, a brief excursus would be in order. The term ecumenism derives from the Greek word “oikoumene,” meaning “the whole inhabited world,” and refers to the promotion of cooperation and unity among Christians. The ecumenical movement takes inspiration from recognition of the fact that while there are many churches that are not in communion with each other, in fact, Christ founded but one Church and in His passion prayed that “That they may all be one” (John 17:21). This phrase is, and most certainly not coincidentally, also the episcopal motto of our Archbishop, Cardinal Patriarch Filipe Neri Ferrão.

Returning to the words of the Holy Father, speaking to the participants in the Conference of Secretaries of Christian World Communions, Pope Francis indicated that:

‘[T]here is another form of ecumenism that typifies our age: that of blood. “When terrorists or world powers persecute Christian minorities or Christians”, he observed, “they do not ask: ‘Are you Lutheran? Are you Orthodox? Are you Catholic? Are you Reformed? Are you Pentecostal?’ No. ‘You are Christian’. They recognise one only: the Christian. The enemy is not wrong: he recognises where to find Jesus. And this is the ecumenism of blood. Nowadays we are witnesses to this, and I think of the Orthodox brethren beheaded on the beaches of Libya, for example: they are our brothers. They gave witness to Jesus and they died saying, ‘Jesus, help me!’. With His name: they confessed the name of Jesus”.’

The Catholic celebration of the martyrs of Libia is a concrete manifestation in the belief of the unity of those who died in odio Christi. Another concrete recognition of this belief is available on the Great West Door of Westminster Abbey in London. The abbey, which is currently an Anglican church, started its life as a Catholic establishment and was still Catholic when the plans for the West Door were drawn up. The Abbey took a couple of centuries to complete, and, as many would know, is in the Gothic style. This design sensibility is marked by a profusion of carving, with numerous niches for statues of the saints. The Reformation and the rise of Puritanism (unfortunately) intervened, however, and the Catholic tradition of the celebration of saints, especially through the erection of statues in their honour, and for the imitation of the faithful, fell out of favour. As a result, the ten niches in the façade of this West Door lay unutilised ever since its completion in the fifteenth century.  It was only when this façade was renovated in 1995 that it was decided it was now time to fill these niches. Recognising the twentieth century as the century of Christian martyrdom (a somewhat hasty assumption in my opinion, given that the twenty-first promises to offer a richer harvest of martyrs), the decision was taken to use the niches to commemorate Christian martyrs from across the various churches and continents. The ten martyrs who were commemorated include the Catholic St Maximilian Kolbe from Poland, Manche Masemola from South Africa who was martyred for her desire to be baptised, the Anglican Janani Luwum from Uganda martyred by General Idi Amin (a name well known to Goans), the Orthodox Grand Duchess Elizabeth from Russia, the famous Dr Martin Luther King Jr, St Oscar Romero, the Catholic Archbishop in El Salvador, the German Lutheran Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer killed by the Nazis, the Anglican Lucian Tapiedi from Papua New Guinea,  and Wang Zhiming, a  Miao pastor killed during the Chinese Cultural Revolution.

Of all these names, it was that of Esther John from Pakistan which appealed to me, perhaps for the obvious reason of being from the same subcontinent as myself. Born Qamar Zia in pre-Partition British India she moved with her family to Pakistan after which, as a young adult, she converted to Christianity from Islam. An enthusiastic evangelizer working among the labouring women in the Punjab, she was found murdered in February 1960.

Reading about her, I could not help but think of Graham Staines, another Christian missionary who met his death, this time on the other side of the subcontinent. The story of Graham Staines is well known, an Australian citizen, he worked among lepers in Orissa until, along with his sons aged ten and six, he was burned to death by members of the Bajrang Dal.

For the longest time I wondered what ought to be the relation of myself – a Catholic – to this Evangelical missionary. The celebration of the feast of the Twenty-one Coptic martyrs of Libya offered a direction. His is a life of example to be venerated. He may not (yet) be recognised by the Catholic Church in Her martyrology, but this does not prevent me from venerating the memory of one who died for Christ. Further, it also offers another lesson to Christians in the subcontinent. While we may disagree on doctrine – and these disagreements are important and should not be dismissed – we ought not to attack one another. Rather, we need to recognise that we work for, and in these trying times may well have to suffer for, the one name. We must be kind to one another.

(A version of this text was first published in the O Heraldo dated 13 March 2024.

With thanks to Rev. Thomas Hiney and Rev. Lister Tonge for their inspiration.)