26th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Ezek. 18:25-28; Phil. 2:1-11; Mt. 21:28-32

In Shakespeare’s King Lear, the old king decides to divide his kingdom among his three daughters according to how beautifully each can describe her love for him. Goneril and Regan pour out magnificent words. They tell their father that they love him beyond measure. Cordelia, the youngest, cannot compete with such extravagant speeches. She loves her father deeply, but she refuses to decorate that love with flattering words. Lear is furious and disowns her. Yet, as the tragedy unfolds, the daughters who spoke so beautifully abandon their father, while Cordelia, who spoke so little, remains faithful to him. Lear discovers painfully that there can be a great distance between the words of the mouth and the truth of the heart. 

Jesus tells of two sons. The first says, “I will not,” but afterward changes his mind and goes. The second politely says, “I go, sir,” but does not go (Matthew 21:28–30). Jesus asks the wonderfully simple question: “Which of the two did the will of his father?” (Matthew 21:31). There is really no difficulty answering that examination question!

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is 55:6–9, Ps 145, Ph 1:20–24, 27a; Mt 20:1–16a.

There is a beautiful scene in Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables. Jean Valjean has spent nineteen years in prison, originally for stealing bread to feed his sister’s starving children. When he is finally released, nobody wants him. Doors are shut in his face because his passport marks him as an ex-convict. Eventually Bishop Myriel welcomes him into his house, gives him food and a bed, and treats him with dignity. During the night, Valjean steals the bishop’s silverware and runs away. The police catch him and bring him back. We expect the bishop to condemn him. Instead, the bishop looks at Valjean and says, in effect, “My friend, you forgot the silver candlesticks I gave you as well.” He gives him even more than he had stolen. The police release Valjean. That undeserved kindness becomes the turning point of his life. Valjean had expected justice; instead, he encountered mercy. He had expected condemnation; instead, he received generosity. From that moment, he begins to become a different man.

24th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Sirach 27:30—28:7 (or 28:9); Romans 14:7-9; Matthew 18:21-35

In Shakespeare’s The Merchant of Venice, there is a tense courtroom scene. Antonio has borrowed money from Shylock and has failed to repay it. According to their agreement, Shylock now demands the terrible penalty written into the bond—a pound of Antonio’s flesh. Friends plead with him to show compassion, but Shylock insists on his legal right. Then Portia, disguised as a lawyer, makes one of the most famous appeals for mercy in English literature. She tells Shylock that mercy cannot be forced: it falls gently like rain from heaven upon the earth. It blesses both the person who gives it and the person who receives it. She goes on to say that earthly power becomes most like the power of God when justice is tempered with mercy. Then comes the sentence that touches the heart of today’s Gospel: if God dealt with every one of us only according to strict justice, none of us could confidently ask for salvation. Therefore, Portia says, since we ourselves pray for mercy, that very prayer should teach us to show mercy to others.

Peter comes to Jesus with what sounds like a very generous question: “Lord, if my brother sins against me, how often must I forgive? As many as seven times?” (Matthew 18:21). Peter probably expected congratulations. Jewish teaching often spoke of

23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Ezekiel 33:7-9, Psalm 95, Romans 13:8-10, and Matthew 18:15-20.

There is an old story about two brothers who lived on neighbouring farms. For forty years they had worked together, shared machinery, helped one another during harvest and eaten at the same table. Then, over a small misunderstanding, they quarrelled. Angry words were exchanged, pride entered, and for several weeks they stopped speaking. One morning a carpenter came looking for work. The older brother pointed to the stream separating the two farms and said, “My brother lives on the other side. Build me a high fence so that I will never have to see him again.” The carpenter worked all day. When the farmer returned in the evening, he was shocked. There was no fence. Instead, the carpenter had built a bridge across the stream. At that moment the younger brother appeared on the other side. Seeing the bridge, he thought his elder brother had built it. He walked across and said, “After everything I said, you

Retreat: Prayer

 Prayer is not merely one activity among many in the Christian life; it is the breathing of the soul. Just as the body cannot live without breathing, the Christian cannot remain spiritually alive without prayer. We may survive for some time without many things, but without God we cannot truly live. Prayer is our conversation with the One who created us, loves us, sustains us and never abandons us.

A woman was at work when she received a phone call that her small daughter was very sick with a fever. She immediately left work and stopped at a pharmacy to get some medication. When she returned to her car, she discovered that she had locked her keys inside. She did not know what to do. She called home and told the babysitter what had happened. The babysitter told her that the child's fever was getting worse and suggested that she might find a coat hanger and use it to open the car.

Retreat: Sacrament of Holy Orders

When we speak about the Sacrament of Holy Orders, we are speaking about one of the greatest gifts Jesus has given to His Church. We are not simply speaking about a profession, a career, or a respectable position in society. A priest is not merely a man who conducts religious ceremonies. He is a man who has been called, consecrated and sent by Jesus to serve God's people. Through his ministry, Jesus continues to preach, forgive, sanctify, shepherd, console and offer Himself for the salvation of the world.

The story of priesthood begins with the story of God's call. Throughout the Bible, whenever God wanted to accomplish something important, He called a person. Abraham was called to leave his country and become a blessing to all nations: "I will bless you... and you shall be a blessing" (Genesis 12:2-3). Moses was called to lead God's people from slavery to freedom. Jeremiah was called to proclaim God's word. Isaiah was called to become a prophet. Elijah was called to bring Israel

Retreat: Sacrament of Marriage

 There is an ancient Greek myth about the androgynous human being, told by Plato in his Symposium. According to the story, human beings were originally imagined as having two faces, four arms and four legs, and as being extraordinarily powerful. They became proud and even challenged the gods. Zeus, fearing their strength, divided them into two. From then on, each half longed for the other half and spent its life searching for reunion. This is a beautiful human image of the longing for companionship, belonging and completeness. Of course, this is a myth, not the Christian account of the origin of marriage. The Bible gives us something much deeper: marriage is not simply the search for one's “missing half”; it is God's gift and covenant in which two persons freely give themselves to one another.

Retreat: Sacrament of Anointing of the Sick

 Once a young lady approached the parish priest and requested him to visit her home to give the last rites to her mother-in-law. When the priest reached home, he noticed that the person was not very sick and that she did not appear to be at the point of death.

So he said to the young lady that he would pray for her. But the young lady insisted, “Father, please do the last rites.”

The priest was surprised and asked her the reason.

Then she said, “We had tried all other methods but failed. After this she will have nothing more to expect.”

Retreat: Sacrament of Reconciliation

 One day a short man walked into the presence of King David. None of the guards dared to stop him. When he reached the presence of the king he said, “O King, I have to tell you a story and you should grant me time to listen to it.” He said, “There were two men in a certain town, one rich and the other poor. The rich man had a very large number of sheep and cattle, but the poor man had nothing except one little ewe lamb he had bought. He raised it, and it grew up with him and his children. It shared his food, drank from his cup and even slept in his arms. It was like a daughter to him.

“Now a traveler came to the rich man, but the rich man refrained from taking one of his own sheep or cattle to prepare a meal for the traveler who had come to him. Instead, he took the ewe lamb that belonged to the poor man and prepared it for the one who had come to him.”

King David burned with anger against the man and said to Nathan, “As surely as the Lord lives, the man who did this must die! He must pay for that lamb four times over, because he did such a thing and had no pity.”

Retreat: Sacrament of Eucharist

 One day, a man who doubted the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist told St. Anthony of Padua that he would believe that Christ was truly present in the Eucharist only if his mule bowed down before the Blessed Sacrament.

They agreed that the test should take place in three days.

The man deliberately starved his mule for the next three days. When the appointed time arrived, St. Anthony stood to one side with the consecrated Host in his hands, while the man stood on the other side holding fodder for the hungry mule. Everyone expected the animal to run toward the food. But, according to the traditional account, the mule, ignoring its extreme hunger, went toward the Eucharist and knelt down in adoration before the Blessed Sacrament.

Retreat: Sacrament of Confirmation

There is a story about an archbishop who was going to administer Confirmation in a school. The parish priest had carefully trained the children. They had memorized every response. On the great day everything proceeded beautifully. Then the archbishop was about to say, “The Lord be with you,” when suddenly the microphone stopped working. The archbishop, thinking that only the priest could hear him, said, “There is something wrong with this blessed mic.” Immediately the children responded, “And with thy spirit!”

It is a funny story, but it reminds us of something important. We can memorize all the right responses and still miss the meaning of what we are celebrating. 

Many of us remember the day of our Confirmation. We remember the church, the Bishop, the oil, the sponsors, the photographs, the celebration and perhaps even the meal that followed. But the deeper question is: What happened inside us that day? What did God do in us? And what difference has Confirmation made in the way we live today?

Retreat: Sacrament of Baptism

Dear brothers and sisters, when we speak about Baptism, we are speaking about something much greater than a ceremony involving water, a white dress, a candle, a name and a photograph. Baptism is the beginning of a new life. It is the moment when we are welcomed into the family of God. It is the beginning of our Christian identity and the foundation upon which the rest of our Christian life is built.

In Genesis we are told that God created the heavens and the earth, the animals, the plants and finally the human beings. God looked at creation and saw that it was good. Man lived in harmony with nature and, more importantly, lived in the presence of God. There was no separation, no fear, no alienation. Humanity knew God and enjoyed His friendship.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Jer. 20:7-9; Rom 12:1-2; Mt. 16:21-27

There are moments in life when a person discovers that love is not merely a feeling but a decision to give oneself for another. A firefighter, Corey Comperatore, was attending a public gathering with his family in Pennsylvania in July 2024 when gunfire suddenly broke out. According to his family and Pennsylvania's governor, when the shooting began, he threw himself over his family to protect them. He was killed, but his wife and daughters survived. His wife later remembered him as a man who died protecting his family. What makes such an act so moving? At that moment, he was not thinking, "How can I save myself?" His instinct was, "How can I save those I love?" Love made him forget himself. And this brings us very close to the words of Jesus: "Those who lose their life for my sake will find it." The Gospel is telling us that the greatest life is not the life spent protecting ourselves, our comfort, our possessions and our reputation at any cost. The greatest life is the life given in love.

The Bible has always presented this truth. In the Old Testament, we find people who discovered that life becomes meaningful when it is offered for God and for others. Abraham was asked to place even his beloved son Isaac into God's hands. He had waited for Isaac for years, and Isaac represented his future, his hopes and God's promise. Yet Abraham had to learn that even what is most precious cannot become more important

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

Is. 22:15, 19-23; Rom. 11:33-36; Mt. 16:13-20

There is a story about a man who spent years studying a famous person. He read his books, studied his speeches, learned about his childhood, knew the important events of his life and could explain his ideas better than many people who admired him. One day someone asked him, “You seem to know so much about this man. Did you ever meet him?” The man paused and said, “No. I know everything about him, but I have never actually known him.”

That is a very important distinction in life: knowing about someone is not the same as knowing someone. We can know a person’s name, profession, achievements and history without ever having a personal relationship with that person.

There is something very striking about today’s Gospel. Jesus asks a general question: “Who do people say that the Son of Man is?” And after hearing their answers, he makes the question more personal: “But who do you say that I am?”

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is. 56:1, 6-7; Rom. 11:13-15, 29-32; Mt. 15:21-28

There is a beautiful story associated with George Müller, the nineteenth-century Christian known for caring for thousands of orphaned children in England. One morning, the children came to the dining room, but there was no food on the tables. The kitchen had no bread, and there was no money to buy any. Yet Müller asked the children to sit down. He prayed, thanking God for the food they were about to receive. The children waited. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door. A baker stood there. He said that he had been unable to sleep and felt strongly that he should bake bread for the children. He had brought several loaves. Soon afterwards, another knock came. A milkman had broken down near the orphanage and did not want the milk to go to waste, so he offered it to the children. Whether every detail of the story has been preserved exactly as it happened or not, the story has remained because it captures something very

Independence Day Speech (Independence Day of India)

 Independence Day Speech (August 15 Independence Day of India)

Respected dignitaries, teachers, dear students, and my dear friends,

Today, as we celebrate the Independence Day of India, let us remember that the freedom we enjoy did not come to us easily. For centuries, foreign powers controlled our land, our resources, and, in many ways, the destiny of our people. Millions experienced poverty, exploitation, humiliation, and untold suffering. But history also witnessed something extraordinary: generation after generation, brave men and women rose to challenge injustice. They refused to accept slavery as their destiny.

Our freedom struggle was not the achievement of one person, one movement, or one generation. It was the result of centuries of resistance and the sacrifices of countless known and unknown heroes. Some fought with weapons; others fought with ideas, courage, non-violence, education, sacrifice, and an unshakeable faith in the dignity of India. Many went to prison. Many lost their homes, their livelihoods, and even their lives. Their sacrifice finally brought us political independence on 15 August 1947.

The Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary (A)

Rev. 11:19a, 12:1-6a, 10ab; 1 Cor. 15:20-26; Lk. 1:39-56

Today we celebrate one of the most beautiful feasts of our Catholic faith—the Solemnity of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Church teaches that, when the course of her earthly life was completed, Mary was taken up body and soul into the g
lory of heaven. This doctrine was solemnly defined by Pope Pius XII on November 1, 1950, in Munificentissimus Deus. The Church proclaimed that the Immaculate Virgin, preserved from original sin, was assumed into heavenly glory.

 But today, rather than looking at the Assumption merely as something that happened to Mary at the end of her earthly life, let us look at the kind of life she lived that prepared her to become the woman whom God glorified. The secret of Mary's life can be found in one sentence from today's Gospel: “My soul magnifies the Lord.” That sentence is almost like the spiritual biography of Mary. She did not spend her life magnifying herself; she magnified God. She did not make herself the centre; she made God the centre. And perhaps that is the most important message Mary has for us today.

There is a beautiful example of this in the life of St. André Bessette, a simple religious brother from Canada. He had very little formal education, was physically frail, and for many years his main responsibility was simply to serve as a doorkeeper at the

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 1 Kgs. 19:9, 11-13; Rom. 9:1-5; Mt. 14:22-33

There is a remarkable story in the life of Corrie ten Boom that illustrates what extraordinary faith can look like when everything around a person seems to say, “There is no reason to trust.” During the Second World War, Corrie and her family in the Netherlands risked their lives by hiding Jewish people from the Nazis. Eventually, Corrie and her sister Betsie were arrested and sent to the Ravensbrück concentration camp. Betsie died there, but Corrie survived. After the war, Corrie became known not only for speaking about suffering but also for speaking about forgiveness. One day, after a Christian meeting, a former concentration-camp guard who had participated in the cruelty came toward her. Corrie recognized him. For a moment, everything inside her resisted extending her hand. Yet she chose to forgive him. Her faith was not simply faith when life was comfortable; it was faith when her memories, emotions and circumstances told her to do the opposite. Her story has been remembered as an example of faith, courage, perseverance and forgiveness.

The Transfiguration of the Lord (A)

 Dan. 7:9-10, 13-14; 2 Pet. 1:16-19; Mt. 17:1-9

Jesus takes Peter, James and John up a high mountain, and there, before their eyes, something extraordinary happens. His face shines like the sun, his clothes become dazzling white, Moses and Elijah appear, and then a bright cloud overshadows them. From the cloud comes the voice of God: “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” These words are not merely words spoken to Peter, James and John. They are words spoken to every generation of believers, including us today: This is my Son. Listen to him.

The Transfiguration becomes even more meaningful when we understand the significance of the cloud in the Bible. In Scripture, the cloud is often much more than something in the sky. It becomes a sign of the mysterious presence of God. When the Israelites were leaving Egypt, the Lord went before them in a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. When they did not know which way to go, the cloud showed them the way. They did not possess a map. They did not know what lay ahead. But they had the presence of God. The lesson is beautiful: when we cannot see the road ahead, we can still trust the One who leads us.

The cloud appears again on Mount Sinai. Moses goes up the mountain, and the glory of the Lord settles upon it in the form of a cloud. The mountain is covered by the presence of God. Moses enters into that cloud and receives God's word. The cloud therefore becomes associated not only with God's presence but

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time (A)

 Is. 55:1-3; Rom 8:35, 37-39; Mt. 14:13-21

Compassion is sometimes found in the most unexpected places. A little-known story is told from the winter of 1982 during a terrible snowstorm in the United States. An elderly widow lived alone in a small house. Heavy snow blocked her door, and she had no food or medicine left. The roads were closed, and no one even knew that she was trapped inside. A young postal worker, who had noticed that her mailbox had not been emptied for two days, became worried. Although delivering mail was finished for the day, he walked through waist-deep snow carrying a small bag of groceries from his own home. When he reached her house, he had to dig through the snow to open the door. The old woman broke into tears because she had begun to think that everyone had forgotten her. The young man simply said, "I did not want you to feel alone." Years later, when people asked him why he had risked his life, he answered, "Anyone can deliver letters. I only wanted to deliver hope." Compassion begins when we refuse to let another person suffer alone. It is not measured by the greatness of the gift but by the greatness of the heart.

That is exactly what we see in today's Gospel. Jesus had just received the heartbreaking news that John the Baptist had been brutally executed by Herod. John was not only the prophet who prepared His way; he was also His cousin, His friend, and the courageous witness who had proclaimed the truth without fear. Naturally, Jesus wanted to be alone. He crossed the lake seeking a quiet place where