DO NOT BE AFRAID, STEP OUT OF THE BOAT!
August 13, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

Peter helps us answer those questions as he jumps - not off a cliff, but out of a boat. In Matthew we read about Peter walking on the water, and if we look closely enough we may just discover the courage to follow his example. I love Peter because he reminds me of myself. He is quick to act, often without thinking. He shoots off his mouth when prudence may be the better choice. Peter understands failure. After all, he denied Christ. He experiences the soothing balm of forgiveness, and he has the joy of being used greatly by God on the day of Pentecost. Peter preaches the sermon that leads 5,000 people to join the church.

I. Dispel disillusionment: When the disciples first see Jesus coming at them they mistake Him for a ghost. They have spent the whole night afraid the storm would drown them, and now a ghost shows up. Things were going from bad, to worse. It was the epitome of out of the frying pan and into the fire. The first thing that must happen to get out of the boat is that our disillusionment must be dispelled. Have you ever noticed that we make the problems of life worse in our head than they really are? As humans we are masters at creating terrible events in our minds and worrying ourselves to death. The disciples are filling in the blanks. They see a figure walking on the water toward them and they assume that it must be a ghost. Is that not just like us? We often make our fears greater than they are. But how do we handle real fears?

We must become so familiar with Jesus, that when false promises or pseudo-saviors show up, we spot them for who they are. We must know Jesus, in the deepest most personal sense. Only through a personal relationship with Him will we be able to recognize Him. Only as we grow to know Christ deeper will we be able to identify the fakes. The disciples mistake Jesus for a ghost when He shows up. Only when Peter is sure that it is Jesus walking on the water does he dare think about getting out of the boat.

II. Defeat distractions: Peter leaves the boat when he knows that it is Jesus on the water and not a ghost, and for a little while he walks on the water. Peter does the impossible, but then things change. Peter took his eyes off Jesus and focused on the storm. Will we sink when we get distracted from Jesus, our source of power? Distractions can come in two forms, the obvious and the subtle. Peter gets distracted by the obvious stuff. The thunder booms, the lightning cracks, the wind whips, and the waves pound. There's a storm going on around Peter. It's easy to see why he gets distracted. He's afraid. Just a few moments ago he was hiding in the boat from the storm, now he is exposed in the middle of the storm.

We get scared by things that look like they will overtake us, and we turn from Jesus, the source of our power and peace. When we choose to focus on the problems rather than the power, we sacrifice our connection with Jesus. Jesus is a power greater than the problems we face. When our problems distract us from Jesus, we turn from the greatest power there is to a lesser power. John writes in I John 4:4, "the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." If we focus on the problems then we will lose sight of the one greater than anything.

III. Destroy doubt: When Peter got into the boat, the disciples worshiped Jesus. We get the feeling that this worship of Him was different. Before this encounter Jesus was just an amazing man, but now the disciples saw Him as the Messiah and Son of God. No matter how we answer that question, there is a deeper problem: We doubt Jesus. We trust our skills, our intellect, our money, our position, or our connections more than we do the Son of God. We  only turn to Jesus as a last result. We put Jesus on a time limit. If Christ does not handle our problem within a certain amount of time, we assume that He does not care, is not able, or is too busy. So we go to someone or something else. Not only must Christ be our first choice, He must become our only choice.

The existential philosopher, Soren Kierkegaard, called the decision to follow Jesus a leap of faith, like jumping off a cliff. Peter would call it leaving the boat. Whatever it is, the One greater than fears, problems, and doubts is here. Jesus is waiting on you to believe in Him and risk it all. Come on, leave the boat and walk on the water. Jesus says you can do it.

LISTEN TO HIM
August 6, 2017
By Deacon Dennis Walters

Imagine that you are Peter, one of Jesus’ core disciples. Jesus has just asked you, James, and John to hike with Him to the top of Tabor, a large hill where all of you can get away from the crowds following you. It’s only a mile up some switchback trails, hot but not difficult. You’re already familiar with Jesus’ habit of getting off alone from time to time, to pray.

    You wonder what Jesus has in mind this time. He’s been unpredictable lately. A few days ago at Caesarea Philippi, He asked you who you thought He was, and you blurted out that He was the Messiah, the Son of the living God. Where did that thought come from? Yet it seemed right, and Jesus praised you for it, even called you Rock. But then He started talking about suffering and being killed and something about rising again. When you tried to tell Him how scary that sounded, He scolded you in front of the others, even calling you Satan, the Accuser, saying you’re not seeing things the way God does. Now you don’t know where you stand with Him. Still, He did ask you to come away with Him and the others.

    Just as you reach the top, Jesus turns to face you — only you can hardly look at Him. His face and body seem to be aflame from inside, painfully bright as if you were looking into the sun. Then two other figures approach from nowhere; intuitively you know who they are and what they stand for, Moses and Elijah, Law and Prophecy.  

    What do you do? You try to respond somehow — when an overwhelming Presence surrounds you like an electrical force, and you collapse into a ball. Then you hear, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased. Listen to Him!”

    Next thing you know, someone touches you on the shoulder. It’s Jesus. The light has gone, He looks normal, and He’s alone. He advises you not to tell anyone about this “until the Son of Man has been raised from the dead.” You think, not to worry. Who’d believe this, anyway?

    Years later, long after the Son of Man was raised and you’re explaining it to your churches, you remind them that you didn’t make all this up. “We did not follow cleverly devised myths when we made known to you the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we had been eyewitnesses of His majesty.” We saw it, and we heard that Voice telling us to listen. As a result, “we possess the prophetic message that is altogether reliable. You will do well to be attentive to it,” because the message for you is the same: Listen to Him.

    Sometimes it’s hard to know what to make of the Transfiguration, for it has many “meanings”. As an event, it marks a turning point in the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ ministry, from His preaching and healing in Galilee to His journey to the cross in Jerusalem. As a mystical experience, it’s a preview of Jesus’ risen glory, possibly intended to comfort the disciples who would fear His crucifixion ended everything. On a theological level, it reveals Jesus as the risen Lord, the Son of the Living God that Peter had earlier confessed. But the Transfiguration’s most immediate meaning — signified by the presence of Moses and Elijah — is certainly that Jesus is the prophet like Moses that God promised. He’d told Moses, “I will raise up a prophet like you from among [your] brethren; and I will put My words in His mouth, and He shall speak to them all that I command Him. And whoever will not give heed to My words which He shall speak in My name, I Myself will require it of Him” (Dt. 18:18-19).

    Listening is both an art and a skill. You have to have some idea what to listen for, and block out everything that isn’t it. Like Elijah on Mount Horeb, who ignored the wind and fire and earthquake to hear that still, small voice, we have to sift through the din of voices clamoring to be heard: the screens, the speakers, the racket, the urgent messages, even the sound of our own ego telling us what we think of ourselves. Listening for the voice of Jesus is a bit like listening for the chirp of that one cricket in the yard that’s different from all the others. You strain to hear it, to locate it, to measure its rhythm, to enjoy its quiet voice.  

    Listening is also a choice. It’s intentional. You have to decide that you’re going to do it, and then position yourself where you can hear. Jesus’ voice is not just one among many, nor is His message. His voice is normally not loud, which is why listening needs to be deliberate. It can be insistent, like the chirp of that cricket; but, like that cricket, it can stop if it’s clear that there’s no ear to hear. As to message, He will tell you how He loves you, forgives you, desires you, accepts you as you are, directs you to something better. Listening also means responding by doing what He says, trusting that, as the way the truth and the life, what He says is “altogether reliable”.

    You are Peter. You hear, “This is My beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased.  Listen to Him!” And when you look up, you see Jesus alone.

TASTEFUL (TASTY?) EVANGELISM
July 30, 2017
By Deacon Dennis Walters

Many years ago, my wife and I were poor students who invited several young adults to live with us in a household of Christian students. Sue and I were “house parents”; I managed finances and Sue served as principal cook. Because we ate dinners together, what was on the menu was often a topic of discussion. Money was tight and meat expensive. So, to save money, Sue (who did the shopping) would look for inexpensive “variety meats,” such as beef tongue and kidneys, which she learned to make palatable in inventive ways.

    Even though our housemates frowned at “variety meats,” they reluctantly ate what was offered. But one kind they swore they’d never eat was brains. For Sue, that presented a challenge. She waited long enough for us to forget the discussion, then resolved to prepare brains in a form no one would recognize. She bought a cow brain, cooked it thoroughly, puréed it in a blender, then mixed it into a soup with tomatoes and other vegetables, and served the result without comment. Only when everyone had finished the meal did she ask, “Well, do you feel any smarter now? Any brainier?” After the rest of us stifled our various gag reflexes, we had to admit that the soup had tasted pretty good.

    Many of us treat evangelism with the same wariness we regard an unfamiliar food. We may not find sharing the faith as repulsive as eating brains, but it’s something we can’t see ourselves doing, much less enjoying. Presenting the Gospel in a way that’s palatable is a challenge, and many of us feel disinclined to try it.

    The Alpha Course makes the Gospel tasty — literally. Think of the word course not as a series of classes but as a set of menu items served as part of a meal, and you have the basic idea. The course consists of a talk served along with dinner and round-table conversation, all of which lead up to a healthy taste of the Bread of Life through fellowship and prayer.

    No one can force anyone to believe anything, just as no one can force college students to like eating brains. But we can at least invite. Alpha is based on the Scriptural model of inviting people to come and meet Jesus: the apostle Andrew brings his brother Peter, Philip brings Nathaniel, Matthew invites his colleagues to a party — all to meet Jesus. This approach enables the Alpha Course to be:

• Real: Over a simple meal, people from different backgrounds have the chance to ask the real questions they have about faith, share reservations and experiences of life, and look for answers without being pressured.

• Relational: Working through the relationships that get built up over a period of ten weeks, people begin to see that a relationship with Jesus Christ is possible for them, both as individuals and as members of a network of relationships.

• Reliant: Of course, those running Alpha realize that it’s the Holy Spirit who changes people’s lives. We simply introduce Him.

    Inviting people to come and meet Jesus means, however, that someone has to do the inviting. The Alpha team at St. Mary’s is busy with various efforts to publicize the course we’re offering through announcements, posters, mailings, articles, social media, and so on. But nothing can take the place of a personal invitation from you, the parishioners, to friends and relatives.  (Of course, if you do invite someone, it’s advisable to come along with them, if possible, to make them feel comfortable.)

    At this point, you may have some reservations. For example:

    “I already know my faith. I don’t need Alpha.” Actually, knowledge of the faith is less important in Alpha than personal relationships are — relationships with Jesus and others. Besides, needs exist on all sorts of levels. Perhaps you don’t need Alpha for yourself, but what about your neighbor?

    “Alpha was started by non-Catholics. It’s not Catholic.” Actually, it’s thoroughly catholic in the original meaning of that term: it’s the universal Gospel that’s aimed at everyone. Because Alpha addresses very basic issues (Who is Jesus? How do I have faith? How does God guide me? Who is the Holy Spirit? etc.), it’s practical, not theoretical. What doctrines are discussed are common to all Christians. Plus, Catholic parishes all over the country, including the Jackson and Ann Arbor areas, are running Alpha with great success. Our bishop wants Alpha.

    “I still don’t know what Alpha is, so how can I invite anyone to it?” Experience is the best teacher. Which leads me to invite you, dear reader, to taste-test it.

    St. Mary’s is planning two evenings in August where you can come and see what Alpha is like for yourself, one on Thursday, August 10th, and again on Tuesday, August 22nd in the Fr. Fisher Hall. You’ll get to experience a real evening’s presentation — a dinner meal, a recorded talk, and a follow-up discussion at your table. The evening will be free of charge. Don’t worry, we won’t serve brains; but hopefully you’ll be more knowledgeable —brainier, shall we say? — about what you’re inviting others to.

    And then we ask one more thing. Invite someone to Alpha. Invite Catholic or not, practicing Christian or not, friend, relative, or acquaintance. We can’t make evangelism more tasty or easier for you than that.

DON'T CURSE THE DARKNESS, LIGHT A CANDLE!
July 23, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

There is a story about good and evil. Good and evil met upon the shore of the sea. They said to each other, “Let us disrobe and bathe in the sea.” After they bathed in the sea for some time evil came to the shore and clothed itself with the garment of good and walked away. Later good too came out of the shore and found that its clothes had been taken away by evil. Feeling ashamed to go naked good garmented itself with the clothes of evil. It is said to this day both good and evil walk around in their disguised clothes. Only some who know the face of good and evil are able to identify their true nature in spite of their garments.
 Today’s parable of the weed sheds lights on the theme of evil. We may dispute the origin of evil but we certainly can’t dispute its reality. In the book of Genesis unmistakably the Bible affirms the reality of evil in the story of the serpent, which injects discord into the harmonious symphony of life in the Garden of Eden. Jesus does not give a philosophical explanation of the origin of evil, but He affirmed its reality. The weeds are not only useless but also harmful. Now let us look into 3 attributes of evil.
 A) Evil is real: Most of us may have some bad character or nature but we may not be evil, but when bad qualities are left to crystallize over a period of time it could become evil. When simple desire becomes tragic lust or when simple harm becomes inordinate selfishness trampling upon the rights and freedom of others it becomes evil. Evil is real, it has many faces. Sometimes small scale insanity leads to cruel evil. A few years ago at the Detroit Zoo a few more new security guards were hired to protect the animals from people. For example, a baby Australian wallaby had strayed from its mother and was stoned to death by visitors, and some adults dropped lighted cigar butts on sunning alligators and laughed as they watched the cigar burn the reptile’s skin.
  B) Evil is deceptive: In the parable our Lord narrated the darnel which as a seed looked exactly like the wheat in its size and shape. There was only a slight color variation. But when eaten the darnel was poisonous. Hitler misled hundreds of people with his beautiful public speech which injected his thoughts of Aryan supremacy and hatred of the Jews. His minister Albert Speer, the architect of all war productions, when he was tried at Nuremberg for crimes against humanity and condemned to serve for 20 years in prison, this most intelligent and educated person in Germany explained how he was  attracted to the ideology of the secret police, the concentration, the rhetoric of Aryan supremacy. During his trial at Nuremberg he took responsibility of the horrors of the Nazi regime although most of the time he was not fully aware of all that was happening. Later in life he sincerely regretted his association with Hitler. It was only later in life he realized the magnitude of the evil he caused.
 C) Evil is ultimately destined to be destroyed: No tyrant reigns forever, triumph and prosperity of the wicked are short-lived, whereas the reward of the Christian who suffers from their wickedness is everlasting. God uses the very wickedness and injustices of evildoers to perfect His elect.  Nero perished, Hitler’s die, Idi Amines have no future. There is a seed of destruction in every demon. It has a day of judgment on the day of harvest, on that day it will be gathered and burnt. Another question which we have to confront is why God does not destroy evil now? It is a fact that today there is no safe havens on earth where we can not find evil, I think if God were to do that now none of us would be alive. All of us are a mixture of good and bad we must constantly work towards holiness. Jesus tells us through the Gospel message don’t curse the darkness but light a candle. May the light of Christ eliminate the darkness of evil in us and around us.  
 

"A SOWER, HIS SEED, AND THE SOIL"
July 16, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

In  today’s Gospel, Jesus began to talk using the familiar image of a farmer taking seed into a field to teach those who heard Him about the condition of the human heart. This seed fell upon the ground and landed upon differing types of soil. Here, we see that the sower is Jesus Christ, the seed is the word of God and the soil is the human heart. It can either receive the seed and produce a harvest of spiritual fruit or it can be unprepared and produce nothing of value for the glory of God. Just as a bountiful harvest brings riches and honor to the farmer, heaven rejoices at the salvation of the souls at the bountiful spiritual harvest. This is what the Lord wants from your life and mine.

But the four types of soils mentioned here by Jesus are very revealing when it comes to understanding the human heart and why people respond to the Gospel as they do. One type of soil is going to paint a perfect picture of our own heart. We may be able to identify what kind of soil we are as we look into these verses today.

1. The Hard Soil - v. 4, 19 the "wayside" refers to the narrow footpaths that ran through the fields. The soil on them had become as hard as concrete from the feet of the travelers that had walked upon them. When the seed fell on the footpath, it could not penetrate the soil to take deep root. we are told the person hears the Gospel, but who doesn't "understand it." That is, they cannot make the connection between the claims of the Gospel and their own life so they refuse to believe. Maybe they have hardened their hearts for years against the call of the Gospel and like a path trampled underfoot for centuries, they have become hard hearted, and the seed of the Gospel cannot penetrate the soil of their heart. 2. The Stony Soil - v. 5-6; 20-21 Often farmers come across limestone rock covered by a thin layer of topsoil. This soil looks like it is ready to be sown. This ground looks good and productive and seed cast here will germinate and quickly spring up into a promising plant. But, because there is no depth of soil, as soon as the sun beats down on the tender plant, it withers and dies without producing any fruit. This kind of soil speaks of that heart that makes an emotional response to the presentation of the Gospel. Perhaps this person heard the Gospel and said, "That's what I need!" They may even show signs of life in the Lord, but when Christianity doesn't turn out like they thought it would, they quickly fade away and disappear.

3. The Thorny Soil - v. 7; 22 - This soil looks like it is ready to be sown also, but underneath the surface are the living roots and seeds of thorns and weeds. When the seed falls here, it also quickly springs to life and gives every indication that a good harvest will follow. However, the same ground begins to produce the thorns and weeds that were already there and they soon choke out the tender plant. This plant withers and dies without producing any fruit at all. This is a picture of a heart that tries to have the benefit of the Gospel while still clinging to the thorns of sin. The seed of the Gospel cannot survive to produce fruit in a heart filled with other things. As Jesus said it was the cares of the world and the quest for earthly riches that spelled disaster for this kind of soil.

4. The Good Soil - v. 8; This is a picture of the heart that has been plowed deeply by the Word of God, where the seed of the Gospel bears fruit for the glory of God.

Please notice that the only difference between these soils was fruit. On the hard soil, the seed did not penetrate, but it disappeared, being removed by the fowls. In the other three, the seed disappeared within the ground. In the last three soils, a plant resulted, but only the good soil brought forth a harvest. If we are not careful we can become hard-hearted toward the things of God, toward His House and toward His Word. When this happens, let us make our examination of conscience to see what kind of soil our heart is made of. Have I become hardened to the things of God? Am I shallow in my commitment to Him and His work? Am I constantly distracted, burdened and defeated by sin and the cares of the world? Am I bearing the kind of fruit I should be bearing?

"COME TO ME... I WILL GIVE YOU REST."
July 9, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

The key phrase of our lesson says: "Come to me all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will
give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart,
and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

In this day and age when it seems all of us have some sort of burden to bear, some sort of
troubles and problems to carry with us, this text brings us some assurance that we are not
alone with these burdens. There are many of us who face the burden of bodies that don’t do
exactly what we want them to do. Others face the prospect of living life alone after the death of
a loved one, the burden of coping with this world all alone can be a very large one to bear. Still
others have the burden of broken relationships with either of their children, their spouses or
their relatives. Still others face the burden of making choices in this world. Wondering what
they will do with their lives, wondering when they do make a decision if it is the right one.
There are other kinds of burdens we face, burdens of sin, or temptation, burdens of guilt,
burdens of conflicting loyalties, burdens of providing for our families, this life is filled with
stress, with cares, with worries, with situations that call for us to make choices that sometimes
are not pleasant to make.

Whatever demands Jesus may make on our following of him, he wants to be at all times truly a
source of comfort, of consolation and of forgiveness and reconciliation.  Whatever demands life
may be making on us, he is there too to be called on.  When we are in difficulties and pain, we
can ask him to take them away.  He may not always do so but we can expect him to restore our
peace.  For we need to remember that Jesus is not to be seen as an escape from our problems.
Sometimes he will give us peace not from our pain but within our pain.

Jesus’ own life is an excellent example.  In the garden of Gethsemane, faced with imminent arrest, torture and execution, he did not want to have to go through it.  This is a perfectly normal human reaction to the threat of death. Jesus prayed his Father to spare him going through this appalling ordeal.  “Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me,” he prayed but then, at the end of his prayer, said: “Nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” (Matthew 26:39)   From that moment on and for the rest of his Passion experience he reveals nothing but quiet dignity and strength in the face of all kinds of abuse and humiliations. He is full of an inner peace, which had come once he had said that total ‘Yes’ to his Father.  His prayer in the garden had been answered, although not in the way he originally requested.

There is a similar example from the life of Paul.  He had some kind of issues which was a source
of great distress to him.  He felt that it was a serious hindrance to his work of proclaiming the
Gospel.“Three times I begged the Lord about this,” he says (2 Corinthians 12:8), “that it should
leave me.”  And, he says, God answered his prayer but again not in the way he had asked.  He
was told, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.”  His
issues, far from being an obstruction to preaching the Gospel, in fact made the power of Christ
more visible.  From then on, Paul, far from wanting his problem to be removed, says “I will all
the more gladly boast of my weaknesses, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”  He
begins to realize that   “when I am weak, then I am strong”.

So Jesus says today, “Shoulder my yoke… and you will find rest…  Yes, my yoke is easy and my
burden is light.”  Think of it as a double yoke, where two oxen can work together better.  We
now have a lovely image of Jesus and me yoked together, pulling together.  “Shoulder my yoke”
then becomes “Share my yoke”.  Where I go, he goes along with me, pulling together with me
and making it all the easier.We are called to be with Jesus all the way, accepting his life vision,
his standards, his values – unconditionally.  This calls for the simplicity and openness of children
rather than intellectual sophistication.  Accepting Jesus all the way is not intended as a burden
but as a source of comfort, peace, liberation and joy.

IT'S A COMPLETE SURRENDER
July 2, 2017
By Deacon Dennis Walters

How do I become a disciple worthy of Jesus? His answer: by loving nothing and no one more than Him. It’s a very high standard of worthiness, but only under it is everything in our lives in its proper place. Jesus speaks of family relationships, but His standard applies to many things: reputation, career, money, time, even sports. Let me tell you the story of someone who put a sport he loved under Jesus’ standard.

His name was Eric Henry Liddell, a devout Scots Presbyterian, member of a missionary family, and a nationally known rugby player and sprinter. If you’re familiar with the movie Chariots of Fire, you know who I’m talking about. He was ridiculed for his awkward style of running — head thrown back, mouth open, arms flailing — but it worked for him. Once, when it seemed that Liddell was lagging in a race, one spectator remarked that it looked like he would lose; to which another commented, “’Is head’s nae’ back yet.” And sure enough, at the right time, Liddell’s head tilted back, his mouth opened, his stride grew longer, and he shot ahead of the pack. The incident in the movie where he tripped over another runner and fell, then got up and overtook the others to win the race, is true — and it nearly killed him. Eric was unbeatable in 100- and 200-meter races, and in 1923 set a record in the 100-meter sprint that wouldn’t be broken until 1946. He was a determined competitor, the fastest runner in Scotland, but, as one of his teachers remarked, “entirely without vanity” for it.

Eric lived according to Jesus’ standard of discipleship. To him, running was a way of glorifying God; he praised God for making him fast. But there were limits. He would compete fiercely from Monday to Saturday, but Sunday belonged to God. The movie says that Eric learned on his way to the Paris Olympics that he was scheduled to run on a Sunday, and he refused. Actually, he found that out some months earlier, and began training for the 400-meter race, scheduled for a weekday. Still, the Olympic Committee pressured him to run his Sunday heats; his absolute refusal made international headlines. At the Paris Olympics, during the Sunday heats he should have run, Eric was in church, preaching.

But he would have to run those 400 meters. His qualifying time was acceptable, but not stellar. Just before the race, someone slipped him a piece of paper that read, “In the old book it says: 'He that honours Me I will honour,'” a reference to 2 Samuel 2:30. That was all the encouragement Eric needed.  Ordinarily, runners in the 400 take it relatively easy the first half of the race, then sprint the last half. Because he had the outside lane, Eric couldn’t see the other runners, so he treated the entire race as an all-out sprint. He won the race in 47.6 seconds, a record. When asked later how he did it, he said, “I run the first 200m as hard as I can. Then, for the second 200m, with God’s help, I run harder.”

Eric Liddell also died according to Jesus’ standard of discipleship. The year after his Olympic victories, Eric joined his family in China as a missionary. He continued to race occasionally (even beating other Olympians), but his heart was with missionary work. For eighteen years, he taught science and coached sports in both rich and poor areas; but in 1943 he was interred by the invading Japanese. In the internment camp, he taught school and organized sporting events for internees. Only once did he participate in a sporting event on a Sunday; to avoid a fight between two camp teams, he agreed to referee a game because both teams knew he’d be impartial. 

Though exhausted and malnourished, he shared what food he got. When Winston Churchill arranged a prisoner exchange for his release, he gave his place to a pregnant woman.  Eric died of inoperable brain cancer in February 1945. Once, when asked if he regretted giving up athletic fame for missionary work, he replied that his missionary life counted for more. His talent was God’s. He said on his deathbed, “It’s complete surrender.”

Eric Liddell was someone who took Jesus’ words seriously, and it’s vital for us to do the same. To paraphrase Jesus slightly, “He who loves anyone or anything more than Me is not worthy of Me.” That’s a very high standard of worthiness, possible only with God’s help.

Of course, reputations, careers, money, time, and even sports are important to us; doing them well for the glory of God can make us holy. But they have their place. A Christian who places these things above attending Sunday Mass is frankly engaged in idolatry, putting his salvation in jeopardy. But even one who keeps the Sabbath may still hold something or someone more dear than the Lord. When one with such an attachment prays, “Lord, I am not worthy,” he may discover that Jesus agrees with him. 

As you reflect on today’s Gospel, ask yourself: To whom and to what am I most attached? How willing am I to surrender it to God? Or how afraid am I that if I do He will take it away from me? Can I honestly say that I love Jesus more than I love things important to me? As His disciple, how far from Jesus’ standard of worthiness am I?  

To Eric Liddell, his sport and his life were complete surrender. How is it with me?

DO NOT BE AFRAID
June 25, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

In this Gospel three times the disciples are told by Christ to not fear. We are told not to fear man, but rather to fear God. The book of Proverbs makes this distinction when in Proverbs 25:29 we are warned: “The fear of man brings a snare.” And exhorted in Proverbs 9:10: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom.” As we look to Matthew 10:26-33 we are told two times we are not to be afraid, He was referring to the fear that controls a person’s deliberate response in the face of such danger. At times, it can be responsible to avoid danger. At other times, perils need to be faced and endured for the sake of a greater good. Jesus was insisting that discipleship – and the hope of eternal life – would be dangerous, but that this danger was to be faced and borne courageously. And one area where it is altogether appropriate to be afraid.

Matthew uses this teaching of Jesus to make three points:

1. The message of the Kingdom, and the impact of Matthew’s community on the social and political structures of Antioch, might seem insignificant and go unnoticed, but the eventual blossoming of the Kingdom would occur, and, in the interim, Kingdom values would be all that matter.

2. Physical death would not be the ultimate evil.

3. The practical loving actions of disciples would not be carried on in a vacuum – work for the Kingdom would be a task shared with God, who is present, involved and interested, inspiring, trusting and empowering every disciple.  The apostle is not a faceless operative, but is precious to God.

The first reason that we are told not to fear is found in verse 26. The reason we are not to fear is that “there is nothing covered that will not be revealed, and hidden that will not be known.”  This was apparently something that Jesus repeated on various occasions. Here, Jesus clearly expected the ministry of His disciples to be more open and public than His own ministry. What He told them in the dark, they were to speak in the light. What He whispered in their ear was to be shouted from the roof top. Jesus is calling His disciples to holy boldness in their proclamation of the teachings of Jesus. The great German Reformer Martin Luther said, “If I profess with the loudest voice and clearest exposition every portion of the truth of God, except that point which the world and the devil are at that moment attacking, I am not confessing Christ however boldly I may be professing Christ.  Where the battle rages, there the loyalty of the soldier is proved.” 

Finally, Jesus tells us one area in which it is entirely appropriate to be afraid.

He was essentially making only one, that Jesus’ person and message embodied the mind and heart of his Father. The text need not be interpreted literally as threatening that Jesus would deny the one who denied Him. That would undermine all He had said previously about unconditional love and openness to forgiveness [5:43-8], and of His post-resurrection response to Peter and the other disciples.  

It is uncertain whether Matthew was actually quoting the words of Jesus, or making His own gloss for the sake of emphasis.  In either case, He was relentless, nevertheless, in His insistence that people put into practice what they professed and believed. Love and forgiveness do not exclude accountability. Those who confess Christ will escape hell. To fail to confess Jesus Christ is to trample God’s provision for our deliverance from judgment and puts one on dangerous ground! But if you confess Christ, Christ will confess you before His Father and you will escape Hell and enter Heaven. What do you fear? We are not to fear man who can destroy only the body, but God who can destroy both body and soul in hell.

ARE WE A VIBRANT COMMUNITY?
June 18, 2017
by Fr. Bosco Padamattummal

In the year 1263 a priest from Prague was on route to Rome making a pilgrimage asking God for help to strengthen his faith since he was having doubts about his vocation. Along the way he stopped in Bolsena 70 miles north of Rome. While celebrating Mass there, as he raised the host during the consecration, the bread turned into flesh and began to bleed. The drops of blood fell onto the small white cloth on the altar, called the corporal. The following year, 1264, Pope Urban IV instituted the feast of the Body and Blood of Jesus, today’s feast, Corpus Christi. The Pope asked St. Thomas Aquinas, living at that time, to write hymns for the feast and he wrote two, better known to the older members of our congregation, the Tantum Ergo and O Salutaris. That blood-stained corporal may still be seen in the Basilica of Orvieto north of Rome.

The Eucharist is often spoken of as the very center of Christian living. There is a very real danger for Christian communities of collapsing or degenerating when deprived of the Eucharist for any length of time. No one can in effect remain a committed Catholic Christian without participation in the Eucharist. Every persecuted Church realizes this and struggles to keep the Eucharist alive in its communities. We have seen that in countless examples over the centuries.

Basically two things happen when we celebrate the Eucharist:
a. We remember and we give thanks. The word ‘Eucharist’ is derived from a Greek word for ‘thanks’. Above all, we remember with deep gratitude all that God has done for us in Jesus Christ, through His life, suffering, death and resurrection. We also remember and give thanks for all our own personal experiences of God’s love at work in our lives. And we remember and give thanks not only for what happened a long time ago but most especially for what is happening in our lives at this time.

b. We come together to celebrate our being a community and a fellowship in Christ. Although the Eucharist is at the center of our Christian life, it cannot survive in a vacuum. That is why I like to say that the Eucharist is, by and large, the measure of a Christian community. From the way a congregation celebrates its Eucharist one can know immediately whether this is a living or a dying or dead community. A dead or non-existent community cannot have a living Eucharist. Today is the feast of the Body and Blood of Christ. The Body we celebrate today is the Body of the Risen Jesus. All of us who are baptized are members, constituent parts of that Body. When we approach the altar to receive Communion, the priest or minister says, “The Body of Christ”. When we say our “Amen” of assent in faith, we need to be aware that the Body we are receiving is that Risen Body of Jesus, of which each one present is a part.

Dear brothers and sisters, a parish where Mass-going is basically the only activity of its members is going to be a dead parish and its Eucharistic celebration will also be disappearing soon. A vibrant Christian community centered on Eucharist will have different activities in their community. We have bible studies throughout the year, we plan to start the Alpha course for the whole parish community to know more about our faith, and in the coming Lent we will have the fish fry to bring lots of people together at St. Mary’s, our Ice Cream Social is also one of our social activities to bring people together. So let us not give up any good activities that we have in our parish community but let us add something new to make it a strong vibrant community.

May Jesus in the Eucharist always be the very center and heart of our church, the center and heart of our faith, the center and heart of our parish, and the center and heart of the lives of each of us. O Sacrament most holy, O Sacrament divine, All praise and all thanksgiving
Be every moment thine.

ARE YOU RESISTING GOD'S COMMANDS?
June 11, 2017
By Deacon Dennis Walters

Today’s short reading from Exodus tells how Moses asked God to show him His glory, and how God complied. God passed in front of Moses proclaiming His name (in Hebrew) “Adonai, Adonai, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.” Moses then asked God to come along with the Chosen People into the Promised Land, because “this is a stiff-necked people; yet pardon our wickedness and receive us as your own.”

    Three questions come to mind: Why did Moses ask to see the Lord’s glory? Why does God describe Himself as slow to anger and richness in kindness and fidelity? And why did Moses ask God to come along with them as they went forward?  The answers lie in the “back-story.”

    A few chapters earlier in Exodus, Moses had announced to the people the basic terms of a covenant between God and themselves. The terms of the covenant were that “if you will obey my voice and keep my covenant, you shall be my own possession among all peoples.” In response, the whole people had promised three times, “All that the Lord has said, we will do, and we will be obedient.” The Israelites ratified their commitment by a blood sacrifice and a communal meal between their main leaders and God on Mount Sinai. With that settled, Moses went up to the mountain to commune with God and establish the behavioral laws that would make keeping that covenant possible.

    The problem was that Moses virtually disappeared. When he had been gone for about a month, the people began to panic. Where was Moses? Who was going to lead them? Even if God is invisible, they needed some visible reassurance of His presence, so they resorted to what they knew from Egypt: they compelled Moses’ brother Aaron to mold a golden calf; and then, as Scripture puts it, they “sat down to eat and drink” a communion meal “and rose up to play.” Probably, the word “play” means an orgy.

    Meanwhile, God had written the terms of the covenant on tablets of stone, symbolizing that the covenant was permanent. Then He warned Moses to go down and check on what was happening in the camp. When he arrived, Moses got so angry that he broke the tablets, signifying that the people had violated the covenant they had just made. He ground the golden calf into powder, put the powder into water and forced the people to drink it (a test of guilt), and slaughtered 3,000 of the most guilty.

    As the story goes, God had become angry too, and wanted to wipe the people out and raise up Moses’ family as His chosen people. Moses objected, reminding God that it would look bad if He destroyed the very people he had freed from slavery in Egypt. And so God relented — but at a price. He would not accompany them Himself into the Promised Land; He would send an angel to represent Him instead.

    It was at that point that Moses asked God to reveal Himself to him. “You want me to continue leading this people. So if I have found favor with you, show me Yourself.” God granted part of this request, proclaiming as He did, “Adonai, Adonai, a merciful and gracious God, slow to anger and rich in kindness and fidelity.” Unfortunately, the Lectionary leaves out the next part: “keeping steadfast love for thousands, forgiving iniquity and transgression and sin, but who will by no means clear the guilty, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children and the children’s children to the third and fourth generation.” God warned Moses that the crime of the golden calf would come back to haunt the Chosen People. That is why Moses, relying on God’s willingness to forgive, asked Him to change His mind and come with this “stiff-necked people” anyway. And God agreed.

    It’s important to emphasize here that God isn’t like us. He doesn’t get angry the way we do. Yes, He allows us to experience the consequences of our acts: the sins of the fathers really are visited on their children. Anyone whose family has experienced generations of alcoholism or drug abuse knows that. But God’s eagerness to forgive is far greater than any “desire” to punish. In the story, it’s Moses who avenges the golden calf episode; God, who could have wiped out the Israelites with a single thought, seems all too willing to let Himself be convinced to be lenient.

    Human nature doesn’t change. As a test of that, I’d invite you to take some time today to examine yourself and ask, ‘How am I being stiff-necked and obstinate with God? How have I challenged God, asking Him where He is, or resisting His commands? How have I gotten impatient with Him and taken matters into my own hands?’ And then, when you’ve asked questions like that, ask this: ‘How has God actually shown His mercy to me and my family? How has He been more lenient with me than I’ve been with myself? How has He supported me through the worst moments of my life? And if He’s done all that, how will He accompany me into the future?’

    This is the feast of the Holy Trinity. Today’s Gospel reminds us that God loved us enough to send His Son into our world to save us, and the Son sent His Holy Spirit to lead us to the Father. He continues in our company. “The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God [the Father] and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.”