In Loving Memory of Fr. Arun de Souza, SJ, My Sociology Professor at St. Xavier's College, Mumbai...

From my college days, fond memories remain,

Fr. Arun de Souza, SJ, what an exemplary Jesuit was he.

Through education, he forged his aim,

To touch the poor and fight the injustices that plagued society’s frame.

His passion for teaching burned ardent and bright,

With disciplines absolute and a drive for what’s right.

In his classroom, equality was the golden thread,

As he paid each student an attention impossible not to dread.

Stern in the look and voice low and deep,

Yet fair and kind, and in his watch, no student could sleep.

Behind that face, his wit would often arise,

And his uncanny smile indeed softened the hardest of eyes.

With a depth that made complex thoughts clear,

He taught with simplicity, earning respect and cheer.

His decorum was a model, his life a guide,

A fashion of virtue, difficult to hide.

Today, as the news of his death hits, I recall with a tear,

“Fr. Arun”, as he was popularly known, our professor dear.

His signature moustache, shirt tucked with pride, 

Saddle slippers on feet, and the cotton Jola by his side.

At St. Xavier’s College Mumbai, our paths first aligned,

Later learning him to be the College’s Rector made me satisfied.

From there he was made the BOM Jesuit Provincial, a rare story told,

With a gentle glow, I am certain, he led the Jesuit legacy bold.

It was then he wrote: “Rashmi, for meetings, to your city I’ll fly,

In Feb, I hope, our paths might cross by.”

How I wish our meeting had come to pass,

As I now wait to see him after this journey of life at last.

Trinity Sunday Homily @ Sacred Heart Parish, Omaha | 26th May 2024

 

Reflection for Friday of the Seventh Week of Ordinary Time

 

James 5:9-12

Psalms 103:1-2, 3-4, 8-9, 11-12 

Mark 10:1-12

Rigidity Separates… Love Unites… "[A] man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh" (Mk. 10:7-8). These words of Jesus are often echoed in wedding ceremonies, and over time, they have become my favored gospel passage for matrimonial unions as a priest. Within it, we discern two distinct relational dynamics intertwined with the covenant of love. On one hand, there exists a path that leads away from love, stemming from the hardness of our hearts, as Jesus illuminates. To grasp the essence of this hardness, let us envisage two brittle bricks colliding. The more they clash, the more they splinter, their rigidity turning to dust. Now, contemplate two granite stones in a collision—producing resounding echoes and ominous sparks, with the harder prevailing while the weaker crumbles. Because our hearts, akin to these stones, are rigid, Jesus agrees that Moses instituted laws regulating divorce to mitigate the wreckage inflicted by such separations. On the other hand, envision two marble stones colliding. Marbles possess the unique trait of polishing each other upon friction, rendering their surfaces lustrous and reflective. Through this process, they mirror one another, blurring the distinction between self and other. It is in this mutual reflection that Jesus envisions the transformation of two into one flesh, fostering enduring love. When that happens between two persons, one begins to see himself/herself in the other. Not only one sees oneself in the other, but one begins to see the other not as ‘the other’, but as oneself. It is when, as Jesus proposes, they become “no longer two but one flesh” (Mk. 10:8), leading to love that endures.  Putting together, while hardness of heart breeds separation, a degree of malleability in our hearts fosters unity. The greater the moisture within, the more pliable, reflective, and enduring our capacity to love. Let us, therefore, strive to embody God's love within the sanctity of marriage, family, and our daily interactions, preserving the divine moisture without allowing it to be dry and hard. Let us introspect: How calloused is my heart presently? What is the humidity level within the climate of my heart? To what extent am I committed to nurturing enduring love? What actions and adjustments can I undertake today to infuse greater love into my commitments?

Homily of the 7th Sunday of Easter @ Sacred Heart Parish, Omaha | 12th May 2024

 

Reflection For Tuesday, April 23rd 2024...

Reading 1, Acts 11:19-26

Responsorial Psalm, Psalms 87:1-3, 4-5, 6-7

Gospel, John 10:22-30

Are You Among My Sheep?

As life often demonstrates, pending decisions can be distressing. The greater the significance of a decision, the more time one should devote to prayer, reflection, and discernment. The Ignatian tradition advocates it because it is during this period of suspense that one becomes acutely aware of their inner desires, disordered affections, and means to attain spiritual freedom, a concept St. Ignatius refers to as indifference. While this suspense is inevitable and, therefore, willingly embraced, it often becomes a period of dryness and a desert-like experience that induces anxiety. Whether awaiting news from a job interview, anticipating a pay increase, transfer, promotion, demotion, or dismissal, or awaiting judgment in court or a specialist's medical diagnosis report, the longer the wait, the more anxiety one undergoes.

A similar scenario is echoed in today's Gospel passage. As Jesus walked into the temple, the anxious Jews approached him: "How long will you keep us in suspense?" Understandably, their anxiety stemmed from the fact of not knowing who Jesus was, because without knowing who he was, they were not able to control the situation. Their anxiety to know Jesus, therefore, was caused by not only their prolonged suspense of not knowing who Jesus was but also their extended inability to exercise authority over him. Knowing it well, Jesus responded to them by bringing in three testimonies that they failed to believe in: His words ("I told you..."), his actions ("The works I do..."), and the authority with which he spoke and acted ("...in my Father's name..."). And the reason Jesus gives for their disbelief is rather astonishing: “…because you are not among my sheep”.

Reflecting on Jesus' use of the term ‘sheep’, I discern at least three interpretations relevant to our post-resurrection era. Firstly, Jesus is the good shepherd who calls and cares for his sheep as his own (“my sheep”). Secondly, he is not only the true shepherd, but he is also the sacrificial ram of the New Testament, sharing in the collective sheepfold of our humanity. In that profound solidarity, he abased himself to our level to become one among and like us (his fellow sheep), humbled himself at our feet, and endured betrayals, suffering, and a horrific slaughter at a stake so that we may be saved. Thirdly, he is truly the Lamb of God, the one who was not only crucified and killed but also resurrected among us, thus manifesting his unconditional and unfathomable love and loyalty not only to the Father but also to us, his beloved flock. His love and loyalty to his own sheep were so strong that he, before ascending back to the Father, made sure to entrust his authority to the Church, instructing, “Feed my sheep” (Jn. 21:17), thus affirming our collective responsibility to nurture and guide one another after him. 

As we contemplate today's readings, therefore, let us individually and collectively ask ourselves: Am I among Christ’s sheep today? Do my words and actions warrant Christ's ownership? What is the level of my love and loyalty to my fellow sheep within my own family, at the workplace, and in society? How responsibly do I exercise the authority vested on me in the Church, especially in caring for the lost sheep?

Reflection for Wednesday, March 6th 2024...

                                               

Reading 1, Deuteronomy 4:1, 5-9

Responsorial Psalm, Psalms 147:12-13, 15-16, 19-20

Gospel, Matthew 5:17-19

Nothing is More Practical Than Finding God in Love

In the Sermon on the Mount, as recorded in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus delivers a thought-provoking statement: "I have not come to abolish the law but to fulfill it" (Mt. 5:17). While Jesus acknowledges the goodness of the Mosaic law, he observes that people often adhere to it for the wrong reasons, devoid of genuine love. Through the lens of St. Ignatius of Loyola's spiritual teachings, we understand Jesus' invitation is to discern the deeper spirit behind the law, cultivate a prayerful disposition, and engage in contemplative action that reflects God's love and justice, transcending mere legalistic observance.

To illustrate the concept of discernment, reflect on your most recent wedding anniversary celebration. Did you spend the day cherishing fond memories, sharing laughter, and embracing moments of vulnerability? Or did the occasion pass by amidst thoughts of legal obligations and contractual duties? Similarly, reflect on challenging moments in your life, marriage, or family. What guided you through those times? Was it the genuine expressions of love, respect, empathy, and warmth? Or were you driven by rational arguments, power dynamics, and a sense of duty aimed solely at salvaging the situation?

In light of Jesus' proclamation, discernment beckons us to delve beneath the surface of the law and understand its essence—a foundation built on love, justice, and reconciliation. Whether within the confines of marriage or beyond, we are called to engage in a process of discernment, attentively listening to the prompting of the Holy Spirit and discerning God's will in our lives. As we navigate life's complexities, let us heed the wisdom of Fr. Pedro Arrupe, SJ, who encapsulates the transformative power of love in the following verse:

“Nothing is more practical than
finding God, than
falling in Love
in a quite absolute, final way.
What you are in love with,
what seizes your imagination, will affect everything.
It will decide
what will get you out of bed in the morning,
what you do with your evenings,
how you spend your weekends,
what you read, whom you know,
what breaks your heart,
and what amazes you with joy and gratitude.

Fall in Love, stay in love,
and it will decide everything” (Loyola Press, 2024).

Called to follow Christ, who embodies love and fulfills the law with love, our Christian life is destined to be a testament to the love ordained by God Himself. Whether within the bonds of marriage or beyond, consider the last time you acted purely out of love, free from obligation or fear of consequences. Will you choose to engage in such an act today? During this holy season of Lent, will you resolve to embrace love and allow God to guide your life decisions, rather than acting out of obligation alone?

Reflection for Wednesday, February 7th 2024

Reading 1, First Kings 10:1-10
Responsorial Psalm, Psalms 37:5-6, 30-31, 39-40
Gospel, Mark 7:14-23

The Just, Sin, Wisdom & Discernment

We can all recall a day when we endured the aftermath of food poisoning. While every memory of it might still turn one’s stomach, the experience itself, I am sure, was not pleasant at all, if not perilous for some. I vividly remember undergoing such an ordeal about 33 years ago as an eight-year-old. After spending three days in the hospital, the doctor explained the reasons behind my continuous vomiting, loss of appetite, diarrhea, dehydration, and lack of energy to hold my head up: “The body has its mechanisms to expel that which is unhealthy, indigestible, and non-absorbent. Until the last bit of it is out, these conditions would persist.”

A profound reflection on such events in our lives reveals that the human body is designed with its own mechanisms not only to reject what is foreign and harmful to it but also to restore its purity when contaminated and defiled. Seen in this light, I believe, the words of Jesus in today's Gospel (Mk. 7:14-23) make tremendous sense. It is not what goes into a person's mouth that makes them unclean and defiled, but what comes out of his/her mouth such as evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, licentiousness, envy, blasphemy, arrogance, and folly.

While the book of Genesis 1.27 emphasizes that human beings are created in the image and likeness of God our creator, Jesus Christ, our Savior, in the Gospel text of today asserts that nothing that enters the mouth destroys that original beauty. St. Ignatius of Loyola, the founder of the Society of Jesus and the master of the Spiritual Exercises, puts it differently when he says “Man [woman] is created to praise, reverence, and serve God our Lord, and by this means to save his soul” (Sp.Ex. Principle and Foundation). Putting them together, any sensible mind would wonder, “How is it possible then that these evil thoughts come out of us?” If we do not do the good we want but the evil we do not want, Saint Paul says, it is not because of our will but because of sin that is at work in our flesh (Rom. 7).

It is in this respect, I believe, that the day’s First Reading (1Kgs 10:1-10) that exults Solomon’s wisdom as witnessed by the Queen of Sheba and the Psalm that reveals the intricate relationship between wisdom and the just becomes rather appealing. We need to ask God for wisdom to discern the difference between a) what goes in and comes out of our mouth, and b) sin which is at work in us and the just we are created and called to be. In that wisdom, let us be mindful and guard against what comes out of us and how just we are because, while they have the power either to break or uplift, demotivate or inspire, and make a negative influence or positive impact on the world, they reflect the beauty of our soul and testify to its creator.