Sunday, March 29, 2026

Know Him! Homily for Palm Sunday

when he entered Jerusalem
the whole city was shaken and asked, "Who is this?"
And the crowds replied,
"This is Jesus the prophet, from Nazareth in Galilee."

The crowd’s response, from the Gospel according to Matthew, read at the start of the procession with palms, intends to tell us who Jesus is. The crowd’s response, however, merely gives us a geographical indicator, that He grew up in Nazareth, in Galilee and that He is a prophet. If we reflect on it, we realise how imprecise this response is!

Prophet, we know that He is not. We also know that Our Lord’s residence in Nazareth in Galilee was the reason why many refused to recognize Him as the Messiah (Jn 7: 41-42).

The crowd’s response does not tell us enough. And so, we must ask again, “Who is this”?

In his Introduction to Christianity, Pope Benedict XVI suggests that we Christians need to ask this question to be:

in accordance with the interior law of love, which wants to know more and more him to whom it has given its Yes, so as to be able to love him more. (Introduction to Christianity, Benedict XVI, Communio Books, 2000, p.80)

Asking this question is important, because the Catholic identity MUST rest on a personal encounter with Our Lord Jesus Christ. It is only when we know Him personally, and intimately, that ours is a living faith, resting in our engagement with a living God.

A deeper, more profound, response to the question of Our Lord’s identity is offered to us today in the reading from St. Paul’s letter to the Philippians.

he was in the form of God

Ancient Christian commentators on the Bible draw our attention to the fact that it is not said of Our Lord that He was of the “likeness” of God – this would be a description of Adam, and ourselves, who were made in the likeness of God (Gen 1:27). The Son is of the form of God. He shared, from before time began, and continues to do so, in the very essence of God (Jn 1: 1-2). Let us be clear, therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, that it is wrong to think, as so many are wont to do, of Jesus as simply a good man, an excellent man even. Nor is Our Lord one among many prophets and preachers, offering one way among many others. No! He was of the very form of God! He is, therefore, unique, and His way is the Truth, and above all, Life!

Despite being one with God, present before all time, He took:

the form of a slave,
    coming in human likeness

Recognizing this fact about the person we greet with palms allows us to also understand something about ourselves – children of Adam. This, my dear brothers and sisters, is who we are; slaves, because unlike Him who existed from the beginning and was never made, we were made, from mud – as we were reminded at the start of Lent on Ash Wednesday – and owe our very existence to Him, who made us (Jn 1: 3). Even if he had not died for us on the cross, to rescue us from sin, He would have still been our king.

St. Paul then develops this fact further:

though he was in the form of God,
    [He] did not regard equality with God
    something to be grasped.

The crucial feature of Our Lord is His humility. In these lines, my dear brothers and sisters, we grasp the heart of who Our Lord is and His difference. We see here, the difference between the Son of God, and Adam. Adam, despite being a creation of the Most High, i.e. a slave, sought in his arrogance, to “be like God” (Gen 3: 5). This is the mistake that has also been committed throughout time by the descendants of Adam (Gen 11: 4), right until our time, where we seek to set ourselves up as gods, and rival God.

It was to remedy this fault in our nature that:

he emptied himself,

    taking the form of a slave,

Humility, that is recognizing our reality as slaves before God, is the primary lesson Our Lord teaches us, by taking the leap from heaven into our human form and nature.

And;

found human in appearance,
    he humbled himself,
    becoming obedient to the point of death,
    even death on a cross.

In obedience, the Son emptied Himself, not just at His conception in the womb of the Blessed Virgin Mary, when He took on our human form and nature. At the Last Supper, He went further, stripping Himself and washed the feet of His disciples (Jn 13: 3-8), offering us an example to follow. He deepened this example when, after the prayer in the garden of Gethsemane (Mt26: 36-42), He consented to die the cruel and agonizing death of the criminal on the Cross, demonstrating to us the real meaning of love, which is distinct from the cuddles and cuteness that Hollywood and the media feed us.

No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (Jn 15: 13)

This is the nature of Him who we greet with palms, my dear brothers and sisters, this is who He is. And these facts, and this knowledge of Him, has, MUST have, implications for the way we live, as I have just described, and for the way we worship.

… at the name of Jesus
    every knee should bend,
    of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth,    
    and every tongue confess that
    Jesus Christ is Lord,
    to the glory of God the Father.

If we are worshiping God and King, our maker and our Lord, can we treat Him at the Holy Mass as if He were merely a friend? Can we be casual with the way in which we approach the altar and communion?

He is, of course, our friend, He has said so with His own lips (Jn 15:15). But, do we not know from our social lives that when we are admitted into the company of those who are superior to us, we are always wary of presumption, conscious that we have been offered a privilege and must never abuse it, always treating this person with respect?

I recently encountered a reel on social media which pointed out that genuflection is the one thing that distinguishes us as Catholic. And yet, this bending of the knee has all but disappeared from the practice of our faith. Is it because of a lack of humility before Him who saved us? Or the lack of obedience to the traditions of our Holy Mother Church?

Knowing that God became man, gave up His life for us, does it not behoove us to treat the Mass, treat every Mass, not simply as a coming together of a community, but a solemn recollection, and representation, of the sorrowful sacrifice at Calvary?

When we receive communion, does it not make sense that we take care that we have confessed prior, so that this precious Body and Blood of Our Lord may not be placed in an unworthy receptacle? Furthermore, can we be casual in the way in which we receive and consume the precious Host?

This Palm Sunday, let us continue with this Mass, and return to our homes, in solemn appreciation of who our Lord is, and with this knowledge then keep repeating:

Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord;
hosanna in the highest.

May God bless you all and grant you the grace of a reflective Holy Week.

(A version of this homily was first preached to the faithful at the anticipated Sunday Mass at the Cathedral parish of St. Catherine of Alexandria, Old Goa on 28 March 28, 2026.)

(Image reference: The Triumphant Entry of Christ into Jerusalem, Alessandro Turchi, 1640, The Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg.)

Sunday, March 22, 2026

Be Christ! Homily for the Fifth Sunday of Lent

Lord, if you had been here,
my brother would not have died.

My dear brothers and sisters in Our Lord Jesus Christ. How often have these words of the sorrowing Martha not been our own? How often we have complained: “Lord, where were you when I was suffering? Had you been there, I would not have had to suffer so.” This question has most famously been asked in the context of the Nazi Holocaust, which saw the imprisonment, and murder of millions of persons from across Europe; as well as the brutal killing that accompanied the World War II. Where was God? If there was a God, and he is a loving God, how could he have permitted the slaughter of so many innocents?

I received an answer to this question recently when I realized the huge number of Catholic priests, religious, and lay, who put themselves at grave risk, or even gave up their lives during the Holocaust, so that others might be able to live. The most famous example, of course, is St.Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish Franciscan friar who gave up his life so that another might live. But he is not the only Catholic to so sacrifice his life. Servant of God Frei Placido Cortese, another Franciscan, this time Italian, risked his life, and suffered brutal torture and death, to aid Jews, and others, to escape the Nazis. Or take the case of the Polish Ulma family, comprising the father Józef, mother Wiktoria and their seven children, who were martyred for hiding Jews on the run from the Nazis. One could go on, and on.

Why did all of these people give up their lives for others? Their opting to do so makes no natural sense! They did so, of course, because their Lord and Master asked them to do so:

just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. (Mt 25:40)

The reward for their actions they knew was not natural, but supernatural: as we hear today, the promise of eternal life, and a place in heaven.

I am the resurrection and the life, says the Lord;
whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will never die.

And as St. Paul teaches us today:

If the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, 
the one who raised Christ from the dead 
will give life to your mortal bodies also, 
through his Spirit dwelling in you.

But this is only a part of the answer towards which I seek to reach. Yes, they did so because of their faith in Our Lord, but they were able to achieve this supernatural response because they were aided by a lifetime of grace through the sacraments, Through these sacraments, and above all by their reception of communion, they were the face of Christ.

In other words, dear brothers and sisters, God was not absent during the Holocaust. He was very much present, in the bodies of those who willingly offered their lives so that others might live. This was Our Lord offering His body all over again. God was there, living and dying all over again in the lives of His people.

My dear brothers and sisters, in the season of Lent, through our acts of abstinence and fasting, and charity, through our spiritual athletics we seek to grow closer to the heart of Christ, so that when it is our turn, we too may have the courage to give up our lives for others, and in so doing, become an Alter Christus, another Christ.

Some months ago, referencing Irmã Lucia’s vision of Our Lady on June 13, 1917, I preached that Our Lord shares His Crown of Thorns with those of us who, like His mother, love Him and willingly offer our sufferings to join those of His. In other words, Our Lord offers to us a crown of thorns, which, if we accept, becomes for us the crown of martyrdom which we receive at the time of our judgment.

My dear brothers and sisters, all suffering in this world, is the result of sin. While we may be absolved from our sins, the repercussions of those sins continue to rebound and echo in this world, causing hurt and harm. Our Lord came to this earth to teach us that life in Him is not about fleeing pain and suffering, most certainly not repaying hurt with hurt, but embracing it in His Spirit; converting the bitterness of sin, into the waters of salvation. Every time there is suffering in this world, and a Christian steps up to embrace that suffering, Our Lord is present and reaching out to us.

As St. Theresa of Avila writes:

Christ has no body but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which He looks Compassion on this world,

Yours are the feet with which He walks to do good,

Yours are the hands, with which He blesses all the world.

Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,

Yours are the eyes, you are His body.

Christ has no body now but yours,

No hands, no feet on earth but yours,

Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world.

Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

 

(A version of this homily was first preached on 22 March 2026 to the residents of the Home for the aged at the convent of St. John of God, Old Goa.)

(Image reference: Saint Veronica, Guido Reni, late 1630s,Pushkin Museum, Moscow.)

Sunday, March 15, 2026

Refresh My Soul! Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent

I am the light of the world, says the Lord;
whoever follows me will have the light of life.

Brothers and sisters, at the start of Lent, one of the formulaic options for the priest, as he imposes the ashes is:

              Repent, and believe in the Gospel.

This fourth Sunday of Lent, we are offered the same message by St. Paul in his epistle to the Ephesians, deepening the purpose of Lent, to repent for our sins, and draw close to the light of the Gospel, and the kingdom of Our Lord.

Having been ordained less than a year ago, in the past few months I have had the extraordinary privilege to now observe the Catholic faith through the eyes of this sacred office. Through this office I have encountered, as I would not have before, penitents who come to the sacrament of reconciliation, i.e. to confession. I was recently greatly moved by little children confessing their sins. At that moment I was struck by how great our faith is, realizing how from a young age, Catholic children, as in the words of St. Paul today, are taught to:

Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord.
[and to] Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness

What is great is that not only are they taught to distinguish right from wrong, but also to not hide these infractions of the law, but

expose them.

In so accusing themselves of their errant ways before God, they learn to grow in humility so that they may be reconciled with Him and then continue, as St. Paul teaches us today, to:

Live as children of light, 
for light produces every kind of goodness 
and righteousness and truth.

St. Paul goes on to offer us a logic that most South Asians know, that when things that have been in the dark for too long – as happens after the long monsoon rains – are exposed to light, they are purified. And so, St. Paul teaches us:

everything exposed by the light becomes visible, 
for everything that becomes visible is light.

In the sacrament of reconciliation, when we expose our most shameful sins before the priest, these sins are exposed to the light, they are examined together with the priest, and then once absolution is offered, our souls are made clean and new again.

But it is a matter of concern for me, my dear brothers and sisters, that this beautiful sacramental encounter seems to have lost popularity among the Catholic faithful. Rather than become a weekly, or fortnightly, exercise, it has become something we engage in perhaps during the Exposition of the relics of, or novena to, St. Francis Xavier; in Advent, or during Lent.

Brothers and sisters, let me be very clear, the Lenten and Advent confessions that are organized in parishes across Goa while good, are a carryover from the time when people received communion less frequently. It was because communion was received only at Easter and/or Christmas, that the confession marathons were organized; to make sure that everyone was shriven before they received the Most Precious Body and Blood of Our Lord. These practices are not sufficient now that we receive communion every Sunday, at the very minimum.

Listen, my dear brothers and sisters, to the words of St. Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians (11: 28-29):

Examine yourselves, and only then eat of the bread and drink of the cup. For all who eat and drink without discerning the body [of Our Lord], eat and drink judgment against themselves.

The apostle is clear that we cannot go to communion, without first going to confession. Confession is the gateway, my dear brothers and sisters, to a proper communion. It is confession that allows us to be present at the wedding banquet dressed in the wedding garments (Mt 22: 1-14), without which we shall be bound hand and foot, and thrown into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth (Mt 22:13).

My dear brothers and sisters, Lent is a period of spiritual exercise, a period when we go into high gear for a period of forty days so that we can sustain ourselves for the rest of the year, and go higher the following year. Even if we have been lax this Lent, there is still time, on this Laetare Sunday, to regird our loins, and determine that we will take up the blessed exercises of Holy Mother Church, going for frequent confession, so that come Easter, and eventually at judgement, we may rest comfortably in the warm embrace of our Saviour.

For those who are napping instead of exercising in the faith, I make my own the words of the apostle:

  Awake, O sleeper,
    and arise from the dead,
    and Christ will give you light.

(A version of this homily was first preached to the faithful at the Cathedral parish of St. Catherine of Alexandria on 15 March 2026.)

(Image reference: The Healing of Naaman, anonymous artist of the Mosan school, c. 1150-1160, The British Museum.)