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