Rereading life through grace

 As a day is spent, in the moments of evening, all that is left are smoke and ashes. We are afraid to dream because certain loss of precious things has shattered our light. Perhaps there has been betrayal, or deep rejection. There was no shining cloud to lead, and no fire appeared in the dark. All our securities, certainties, and comforts are challenged, because our sense of self, of belonging, was so deeply attached to what is now missing. This experience of loss truly compels us to reshape our personal world. We begin to regather our memories, retelling our story with grace.

 Jesus reinterpreted the pain of the disciples on the way to Emmaus. When we are alone with our thoughts in the quietness of the evening, we can tell him to stay with us. Experience the consolation of the Holy Spirit and cultivate self-compassion, moving beyond the self-blame that so often accompanies loss. Being in grace, trusting in God, we can confront our painful emotions. This prevents suppression and helps us integrate the loss into our life story. Our fears, brokenness, temptations, and even the matters of our sins can be transformed into the most sincere prayers of the heart. We develop a deeper capacity for empathy, self-awareness, and kindness. It is about more than just surviving loss; it is about emerging with a strengthened sense of purpose.

Picture of life

We all have a picture of our lives, an image that tells the story we have lived. Darkness is woven into this picture, and we see this images in different colours and depths. We might add deep colours and shades of black lines, picturing them in dark shades. I have become lonely, very rude, life is lost, unable to enter into society, I am not comfortable with others, … many are the lines we have drawn to the picture.

Even in this darkness, does God see this picture? Does he know the fabric of these colours? Evening came and then morning came, and God found it was good. That was God’s pattern of history. All our stories, our pictures are joined to God’s history. See the grace descending deep into the fabric of the painting, to the roots of our life. Feel the consoling and comforting grace touching our bitter pains and tears. There will be a mercy sprouting and flowing from our own hearts into our pains. Darkness offers an embracing mystery over our black shades, and grace dissolves them into peace, turning our life into an anointing grace.

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Powers of Service

The Church exists in communion and service, a living, breathing communion. We have the heavenly powers to help us to live this communion and service, in our growth and common journey.   They are not distant, unreachable figures, but rather part of this same communion, offering us heavenly help as we strive to live out the Gospel.

It is true that it is in our blood a craving for being a hero, a victorious fighter. We see it reflected in so many stories. Many of our recent stories show arrogant, angry, and vengeful heroes. Even angels are sometimes depicted, like superheroes ready for battle. If we are not careful, this imagery can shift our focus away from the true spirit of the Gospel. Perhaps we still want to keep the military conquest styles for divine actions and the mediation of saints.

The Gospel isn't a story of military conquest; it's a life of radical love, sacrificial service, and living communion. The archangels represent three essential services of the Gospel: preaching, healing, and resisting evil. Being the children of God, Freedom in the kingdom of God, and the time of God’s favour are very essential to all these three services. In fact, there is no place for

heroism or conquering figures in any of these. If presented with a heroic image, we risk missing their true, humble, and deeply spiritual nature. The angels, especially the archangels, are powerful.  Their power is exercised according to divine will, which is always about love and service, rather than domination or destruction.

True divine assistance is not a force that overtakes, but a grace that uplifts and sustains us. Instead of power-language about God’s protection and saints’ mediation, we need a language that touches life to live a life of grace. God's actions, mediated by His heavenly hosts, are always directed towards drawing us into deeper communion, fostering mutual service, and helping us to fully live out the grace of the Gospel. They are there to assist us on our common journey, to inspire us to be more like Christ – humble, loving, and ever-serving. It's a beautiful vision of a Church living in true communion, both earthly and heavenly, all walking together in peace and service.

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Comfort Lazarus

The abundance of the earth is a gift from God, born of divine benevolence for the good of all living beings. While society often values generosity and kindness, encouraging charity for the vulnerable, a profound tension arises when wealth accumulates excessively in the hands of a few.

The Gospels, in many ways, present a radical critique of unchecked wealth, illustrating how it can blind individuals and corrupt systems.

The Rich Young Man (Matthew 19:16-22), who “had many possessions,” was closed within his own wealth. He was not able to free himself to follow Jesus. The parable of the Rich Fool (Luke 12:13-21) condemns greed and self-sufficiency. He could think of his abundant harvest, only to "eat, drink, and be merry" for many years. But the story tells us that security can be found only in the benevolence of God. The rich man in the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31 is blind to Lazarus's hunger and wounds. His dress of purple and fine linen is also seen with the pious Pharisees who prayed in the marketplaces. Under this system of hypocrisy, the poor become negligible and invisible. It is a permitted ethical failure. 

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I am Lazarus, and I lie still,

Outside the gate, upon your hill.

You wear the purple, the finest thread,

While dogs come softly to lick my head.

You feast within your golden hall,

But my shadow casts no shade at all.

 

You pass me by, with hurried step,

My suffering is a secret kept.

Your holy robes, your pious plea,

Are sewn on a world that doesn't see.

The poor are now negligible, I'm told,

A permitted failure, growing cold.

 

I am Lazarus, and I lie still,

Outside the gate, upon your hill.

You pass me by, with hurried step,

My suffering is a secret kept.

 

When wealth is power, and coins decide,

You look away from the turning tide.

In lands of conflict, chaos, and dust,

Your favour leans where you can trust

To gain advantage, a quick return,

While homes and bodies crumble and burn.

 

Your short-term interest, a selfish game,

Writes impunity upon my name.

You justify the awful cost,

The human measure that is lost.

You see no hunger, no gaping wound,

Just silent dirt on hollow ground.

 

I am Lazarus, and I lie still,

Outside the gate, upon your hill.

You pass me by, with hurried step,

My suffering is a secret kept.

You see no hunger, no gaping wound,

Just silent dirt on hollow ground.

 

The child's burned face, the flowing tear,

The homeless fright, the constant fear—

These are the things you choose to hide,

As if the heavens have never cried.

But hear this truth, whispered and stark:

My wounds don't vanish in the dark.

 

You pass me by, with hurried step,

My suffering is a secret kept.

You see no hunger, no gaping wound,

Just silent dirt on hollow ground.

 

But hear this truth, whispered and stark:

My wounds don't vanish in the dark.

For two or three generations on,

The horror lives, from dusk to dawn.

The pain you permit, the grief you justify,

Will echo in every child's sad eye.

Will this cycle break? Will this suffering cease?

Will the world finally choose lasting peace?

 

The answer waits upon your choice,

Will you finally hear the Lazarus voice?

The poor are here. The wound is fresh.

Will you be responsible for the broken flesh?

Will you come near the burned faces of the innocent?

You pass me by, with hurried step,

My suffering is a secret kept.

I am Lazarus, and I lie still,

Outside the gate, upon your hill.

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Friends of God

Making home with God in our daily realities is the whole grace of the gospel. Jesus is on a journey proclaiming the Gospel, and ensuring life and forgiveness to all. Very often it came in his preaching that it is not merely hearing the Word, or calling Lord, Lord that makes the will of God being realised in our life, but it is in putting the Word into practice.

A virtuous person was to walk in the path of God in the guidance of wisdom. To act virtuously and with justice is more pleasing to the Lord than sacrifice. God is pleased to guide the hearts of the virtuous, because they are like flowing water that God can turn it where he pleases (Proverbs 21:1-6,10-13)

Walking with Jesus the master, the disciples learned not only to imitate, but to find the Way, Truth and the Life. Gradually they would find the Word as truth and life in themselves. Listening to the Father, the voice that Jesus constantly listened to was that he was the beloved Son. The meaning of this voice never remained as a status or honour, it placed him on the path of fulfilling the will of the Father. He saw that all who seek the will of God in a sincere heart are all related to him and completing his mission. They would be his mother, brothers and sisters.

What was the mission of Jesus, and how are we to identify our part by listening to the voice speaking in our hearts? First of all, we must commit our ways to the Lord and trust in him, and he will act (Psalm 37:4-5). Committing our ways to the Lord is not merely passivity, it is an active and compassionate response to the daily realities relying on God's grace. Leaving our ways, and placing our trust in God, seeing and listening to the wounded, the crushed, being with the abandoned the last and the labelled  is a costly affair, but then we are opening ways for God to act. God will open surprising ways of how we ourselves are engaged in fulfilling his will.

Jesus could see many great righteous people around him, but they did not have the heart of God. Those who really listened to him were given the power to become children of God. They become the mother, brother and sister to him. Anyone who receives the Word, conceives it and gives flesh, is born anew in Christ as his brothers and sisters."

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Let Justice Flow like a River

Seek good, not evil, that you may live!

During the 8^th century BC, the Northern kingdom of Israel enjoyed unprecedented economic prosperity under King Jeroboam II. But, this wealth was concentrated in the hands of the powerful elite, leading to exploitation, corruption and injustice. Wealthy landowners used corrupt business practices to seize land from impoverished farmers, often through debt slavery. The courts, which were meant to be a source of justice, pronounced judgment in favour of the powerful and the rich. “We can buy up the poor for money, and the needy for a pair of sandals, and get a price even for the sweeping of the wheat” (Amos 8:6). Give attention to the words, ‘buy up the poor’ and ‘get a price.’ Even the ‘sweeping of the worthless chaff and dust’ was monetised.  The prophet Amos emerged as a powerful critic of injustice. Amos’ voice was not just against individual acts of greed, but it challenged a systemic failure – a system built on power, greed and exploitation, fundamentally opposed to God’s will. The judges and religious leaders turned a blind eye or actively participated in this exploitation.  Israel had great patterns of devotion through lavish festivals and rituals, yet they ignored the core covenantal demand for justice.

Almost in the same period, Judah, under the reigns of Jotham, Ahaz, and Hezekiah a prosperous urban elite thrived while an increasingly desperate rural populace suffered. Caught up between the rising Assyrian Empire and existing regional powers, military campaigns demanded immense resources, and the costs of warfare and tribute to foreign powers became an unbearable burden for the agrarian sector. Land acquisition for the sake of the returning military personnel was viewed as a means of reward or social advancement. Often these were, in fact, assimilated into the landowning elite, intensifying pressure on small farmers. The Mosaic Law clearly points to the sacredness of land as God’s gift and the protection of the vulnerable from perpetual indebtedness and landlessness. But the rich, according to Micah, were “eating the flesh of the poor” (Micah 3:3).

Both Micah and Amos reminded that true worship was inseparable from social and economic justice, and compassion for the oppressed. In this light, standing for justice and peace is not just a socio-political approach; it is a spiritual act.  

In the Roman-controlled Galilee of Jesus’ time, a tenant farmer’s debt was often paid in agricultural produce, like grain and oil. Large landowners would employ a steward to manage their estates and collect these debts. In the parable in the Gospel today, the steward was dishonest in his duty. When he knew that he was not going to be a steward anymore, he shrewdly manipulated his master’s accounts, he was doing great good for the debtors, but to ensure his future security. The steward understood that the oil’s commission was excessive, and its cancellation would generate immense gratitude from the debtor. The wheat’s commission, while smaller, was also significant. It seems that the steward’s actions were not simply a reduction of the core debt, but rather a total cancellation of an additional fee, the steward’s personal commission.

In the Gospel passage, we hear Jesus saying, “Use money to win you friends.” It is something strange. But, see, after the end of the parable, we see that the Pharisees, who were lovers of money, scoffed at him.  Jesus’ parable about the dishonest steward, in fact, makes a cynical observation about the world’s ways. Verse 15 says further that what is exalted by men is abominable to the Lord. In chapter 22:25-27, speaking on authority, Jesus would say, “The rulers of this world lord it over them, and those in authority call themselves benefactors,” as though doing great favour for those whom they rule, but Jesus says, “you should not be like that. Similarly, Jesus’ words, “make friends for yourselves by the means of unrighteous wealth” could be seen as a verbal irony, saying that you should not be like that. Even the ‘prudence of the serpent’ mentioned in Matthew 10:16 does not encourage wickedness and cunningness.

The Rich Fool, in Luke 12:13-21, was also planning for his pleasurable future. The steward, facing a great shame, uses his managerial power to secure his own future. Jesus was clear in his messages that one cannot serve two masters - God and money, “whoever is dishonest with a very little is also dishonest with much.” At the end of the parable, we have the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16:19-31), telling us what happens to someone who turns heartless with wealth. His failure to be a good steward of his wealth leads to his eternal ruin. The end of the rich man acts as a clear and direct conclusion to the teaching begun with the dishonest manager, showing the tragic consequences of even those who secure their future.

The powerful often have a noble or even a divine face, because the system sanctifies them to maintain itself. There may be unfair labour conditions, lobbying for self-serving laws, and the evacuation of people in the name of development. See the global investments for war and ammunitions in the name of security. All these appear to be noble purposes and good for the public; a cry for justice may be termed a revolt. Their so-called ‘humanitarian service’ is often a strategic tool, a calculated investment that primarily benefits themselves. Like the dishonest servant in the parable, they use many resources to build a network of favours and goodwill that ultimately perpetuating an unfair and self-serving system. They become unquestionable and sanctified. The label of humanitarian goodwill permits compromises on more fundamental responsibilities, like paying fair wages, ensuring safe working conditions, or protecting the environment.

The systemic injustice condemned by the prophet Amos in ancient Israel has a parallel to the economic imbalance caused by the accumulation of wealth in the hands of a few, even in our time. Both situations are rooted in a concentration of power and resources that leads to the exploitation of the vulnerable and a breakdown of social justice. In Amos’s time, the wealthy elite were faithful religious, performing rituals and sacrifices, while simultaneously trampling on the poor and denying them justice. The grand façade of religiosity and piety itself stood as a powerful symbol of exploitation and injustice. The master who praised the steward for his shrewdness, himself must have been an unjust man, overcharging the debtors in the first place. Steward was participating in a system of exploitation within his given capacity. The steward’s actions make a calculated survival strategy, creating a network of people who will owe him favours. This system, of course, would never “let justice flow like a river.” 

When the poor and the vulnerable are trampled underfoot, and when the system permits it and sanctifies it within religion and political structures, corruption, injustice, and oppression are normal practices, and even the divine justice will be trampled underfoot. Justice is not an act of one moment, nor a revolution or an outcome of activism. It is a matter of how we choose to form a conscience for our person, institutions, organisations and the church at large. We can be easily insensitive to injustice when it is embedded in our systems and celebrated in their normalcy.  True worship of God is inseparable from a commitment to justice for the poor and vulnerable.

Thinking that we are glorifying or pleasing God, we have many verses of the Bible in our houses, on our cars and so on, should we not add this verse “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream” (Amos 5:24). It is not a mantra, it is an active response to god’s will, and a sincere commitment in every walk of our lives.

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Justice Mode of Divine Friendship 🎵

“Let justice roll on like a river,

righteousness like a never-failing stream.”

 

I am not a prophet,

not a prophet’s son.

Yet I see the pain of God,

He is crushed

Trampled underfoot.

I am not a prophet,

But the fire burns me up.

 

How can you sell my people,

breaking their necks,

making a system

built on power, greed and exploitation.

but making merry,

celebrating

festivals and rituals.

Making mockery on God,

God on the wall,

but

eating the flesh of the poor.

Should I break my heart

should I shout aloud

I cannot be blind

I cannot be heartless.

I see the cry of God

the tears flow like a river

dark red, so deep, full of pain.

Do you worship God,

ensure justice, peace, and kindness,

have a sincere heart,

Do you seek mercy of God?

ensure justice, peace, and kindness.

you sell my people,

throw them away,

take their land,

you gather money,

accumulate power.

you show yourselves great men of goodness.

Justice is not a magic

it is forming a conscience,

a sincere response to god's will.

Hate evil and love good; 

maintain justice in the courts, at the altars

Seek good, not evil, 

that you may live.

Let justice flow like a river,

righteousness like ever-running stream.

Let justice flow like a river,

righteousness like ever-running stream.

I live Him

I stood far and watched him

So far, but my heart was drawn to his love.

He never knew me, but his love was calling me,

I thought I cannot go near him

I am ugly, bad, unworthy

I messed up my life, How can he receive me?

 

He did not see me, because I hid myself enough

But he embraced all, loved all,

They were worth something.

His love covers my falls, my guilt

Yes, I know that I am forgiven

I am given a new life, a new love.

 

I went near to him

Many looked at me,

with anger, with hatred, with scorn

they condemned me “I am a sinner.”

For him, I was someone precious.

I wept, the tears fell on his feet,

I wiped them, I kissed his feet.

I had the kiss of his love, though I stood far,

Let me walk in love to life,

Will I fall, does not matter,

That love raises me up.

 

He says, I loved him much,

O my love,

In my crave, in my helplessness

Was my heart beating for you?

All I had were pain and shame

In my pain, was I loving you?

I love him, he is around me,

I breath him, embrace him,

I live him.

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John the Baptist

 John the Baptist pointed to the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Bearing of sin cannot be without being wounded, so John points to the wounds that bore the pain and gave life. If Christ is the sin bearer, the entire body of Christ is the sin-bearer and life giver. John the Baptist, being one in the body of Christ, also points to the sin-chains that wounds the lamb of God. He points out the deep open wounds even if they would devour him. The Baptist pointed to the sins of the world.

He had the freedom, because he was filled with grace and he leapt rejoicing. He lived this freedom in the wilderness and in prison, he rejoiced hearing the deeds of the messiah “the deaf hear, and the blind see and the kingdom is preached to the poor.” He knew the salvation in the tender compassion of God, not in the salvation offered in righteousness of enormous sacrifices and offering. One sacrifice he demanded was to be away from injustice and act kindly.

Pointing to the lamb of God, he bore testimony to the truth; he was not the truth. He was the voice not the Word. John’s voice challenges our attitudes that do not point to the truth and the Word, but instead, in the name of testimony, pointing to ourselves, our believes and traditions as the truth and the Word.

Tapasya -the narrow path

 On our life journey it is natural to ask whether we are ‘in or out’ of heaven. The teaching on the narrow door (Luke 13:24) addresses his followers and other Jews on their way to Jerusalem. The question on the number of the saved when the Messiah comes, when the Son of man comes in his glory, when Christ establishes the kingdom, shows their concern about their being ‘in’ or ‘out’ of a system of sanctified power. The image of the ‘narrow door’ (Luke 13:24) directly challenges the assumption of automatic salvation based on religious affiliation or by being a prideful ‘chosen people.’

Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem in Luke’s Gospel (i.e. 9:51–19:27), is a final phase of his ministry. He is knowingly walking toward the city that “kills the prophets and stones those sent to it” (Luke 13:34). During this time, his teachings focus on what it truly means to follow him. After his entry to the city, he will mournfully weep over Jerusalem, foreseeing its ruin. In today’s Gospel, there is a teaching and a warning. The teaching is to strive to enter through the narrow door, and the warning is about the rejection of those who had claims of great familiarity with the master of the house.

 The Great Banquet in Isaiah 25: 6-8 is set on Mount Zion, a politically and religiously significant place. But the heart of the very system of Jerusalem has become exclusive and nationalistic. God’s favour became a monopoly of the people of Jerusalem, ‘the first’ among ‘the chosen’ people. The meal is described as “a feast of rich food ... of well-aged wine,” a banquet of abundance and joy. This great abundance contrasts with the transactional ‘give and take’ of the temple system, where sacrifices and offerings were must for God’s favour.  God freely provides the feast for those who are the least and the last.

 The religious leaders of Jerusalem saw themselves as the rightful and only guests at God’s table, but did not know the heart of God. Instead of being an exclusive meal for the chosen people, the banquet as a sign of God’s authority over death and evil is a universal celebration, a banquet for the entire world (Isaiah 25:6). The meal is not the end goal. This feast is not simply a reward for the righteous but an act of unconditional love which is a celebration of life and wipes away tears from all faces. This banquet is an ongoing participation in divine action and a mutual completion of joy.  The purpose of God’s presence is to heal a broken world. The God of Isaiah’s banquet is a God of radical vulnerability and self-giving hospitality, who embraces all nations. It is a challenge to any religious system that seeks to control access to God’s love and grace and keep them reserved for the privileged.

 When Jesus announced the gospel, he found that the privileged, the first, and the righteous rejected the feast. Jerusalem rejected Jesus and killed him. The divine feast was filled with the ‘poor, the crippled, the blind, and the lame.’ The Jerusalem-centric notion of a privileged place at God’s table is entirely subverted. The ‘last’ will be welcomed in from all corners of the earth, while the ‘first,’ who were secure in their religious identity, are now explicitly told that they will be rejected from the heavenly feast. The claim, “We ate and drank in your presence, and you taught in our streets” shows claims of overfamiliarity with God and affirms their unquestionable place with God. Jesus’ response “I do not know where you come from” is a statement of radical disconnect. It is a reminder that the eating and drinking and hearing him in the streets have miserably missed out on something. 

 There is an ever-open gate of unconditional love and mercy of God. In person that is Christ the door.  Our self-righteousness, and comfortable assumptions of God and heaven have made us too big, hard and bitter to enter that gate. These are the treasures secured and sanctified by the religion centred on power and greed. These great possessions, and the gods that rejoice over them must be left aside to follow Jesus. Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan redefined neighbourly love not by shared religion or heritage but by radical, compassionate action toward anyone in need – another narrow gate.  In chapter 15, Jesus’ parables of the lost sheep, the lost coin, and the prodigal son are a direct response to the judgmental attitude of the religious elite. This is a challenge to their self-righteousness. Their spiritual pride, their sense of deservedness, is a ‘wide road’ that keeps them from the narrow gate of empathy and mercy. The first (the religious elite) became last (in terms of acting out God's will) because they prioritized law over love. The holy city, the temple, made them privileged and favoured. Even God was powerless to break that system.

 Jerusalem, more than a place, was a system of religious, political and economic monopoly. Historically, Jerusalem was not part of the ancestral land divisions given to the tribes of Israel.  David’s capture of this city was a political move. He brought the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. It was decided to be the very dwelling place of God, and the centre of tradition, law, and religious power. By centralizing God’s dwelling place, he centralized his own rule. While the concept was that God ‘chose’ to dwell in the Temple, in practice, the Temple served to contain God’s presence within a human-made institution. This created a belief that God’s favour and protection were tied to the physical structure and the rituals performed there. Thus, Jerusalem was a source of ‘sanctified power’ that was legitimized by being tied to a holy place and the customs formulated accordingly. This system, while serving a religious function, also solidified the power of the priesthood and the monarchy, making them the mediators of the divine. They formulated a covenantal framework that saw God’s presence residing within a closed sacred space, accessible primarily through the rituals and mediation of the priesthood. This created an ‘us versus them’ mentality, where the religious insider was assured of their place at God's table. This same system, in its rigid adherence to legalism and its own institutional power, rejected and killed the very ‘author of life.’

 A picture of a royal dining of the privileged and the favoured within a self-serving religious system do not suit the heavenly banquet of Jesus. The banquet parables serve as a counter-cultural narrative against the boisterous ritualistic function of the Holy City. God's grace overflows the boundaries of the Temple and is offered freely to those who have nothing to offer in return.

 The gate to enter into the great banquet is narrow. Jesus clearly told that following him would not give a status like being a disciple of a great Rabbi. The discipleship is not defined by following a set of external rules. It is all about self-denial and unwavering commitment. The Banquet parable in the next chapter (Luke 14:15-24) points to the rejection of the gospel by the social and religious elite.  The least and the last are brought in to fill the feast. There, God’s grace extends to all, not just to a privileged few. Stories like the Good Samaritan taught that true righteousness is found in compassionate action. This narrow door is one of self-giving love and mercy, a path that often runs counter to the legalistic and judgmental nature of organized religion, a preferred wide gate.

The Christian life and the celebration of the Eucharist should not be ending up in the risk of mere eating and drinking and hearing of innumerous numbers ​of preaching of the Word of God.  The Eucharist is not a magical ritual that guarantees salvation based on mere devotional attendance. It is a re-enactment of Christ’s ultimate act of vulnerability and grace, entering into a threefold communion Jesus realised – communion with the Father, communion with us, and our communion with one another. We often create a heaven and God who is enthroned there that is comfortable for us. We celebrate that safe space on a wide road. The narrow gate is a call that requires a courageous and compassionate listening to our own vulnerabilities and a humble surrender to the tender heart of God. It heals our injuries and makes us whole, having put on Christ. It is an invitation to leave the wide road of legalistic pride and superfluous, boisterous familiarity with God, and step through the narrow gate of vulnerability, mercy, and compassion.

This path is narrow because it requires immense discipline, an unwavering mind, and an open mind to learn. It demands honest self-inquiry and a willingness to confront and transcend our self-centred believes, gods, and perspectives. It makes wilful efforts to resist comforts and pleasure, that come from power and wealth often sanctified by religious flavour. Since this evil is under the disguise of the sacred, we require deep reflections on the truth of events, beliefs, and even holy persons. Narrow road is a Tapasya which involves intense effort and voluntary self-denial to expand the horizons of the mind and body.  Narrow road is to break our hard shells in surrender of the whole self and an embrace of vulnerability. Extension happens in empathy, mercy, compassion, service and selfless love. In doing so, we heal our own wounds and find our rightful place in the compassionate unfolding of the path of grace.

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freedom of the child

A child is the most vulnerable in many ways, and it responds with trust to the loved ones, and with fear to those who are unfamiliar. This mirrors the tenderness we feel towards God's love in our own vulnerabilities. Yet, too often, we have tucked legalities into our faith, making God into a harsh judicial system. If we fail to believe and know in the tenderness of God we never will understand the teaching of Christ. Jesus said, "Your Father knows what good you need." Which father who loves his children asks for taxes or payment for the freedom and maturity of his children at home?

We are often cruel to our own vulnerabilities, punishing them and saying that is what God wants. Even the death of Christ is seen as a legal or penal transaction, rather than the abundance of life poured out for us.  this legal framework has distorted our true relationship with God.

Adam reflects our brokenness and vulnerabilities, and the fear of the unfamiliar, and he is in a journey to grow into Christ. He is not a condemned and miserable man, but one whom God comes to embrace. God who asks ransom is a strange God to the gospel. God fills our injuries, and wants to make us whole. Christ embraced us, and has poured out his life into us. Look into a mirror and listen to the eyes that speak to you. Listen to the heart, emotions ad cravings. Listen courageously and compassionately. Be tender and allow God to touch the depths of our hearts. If possible, listen what the scripture speaks to the feelings of the heart. The child gets familiar with the tender heart of God and begins to respond in freedom.

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to the Logos-form

Mary bore the Word in her womb and became the Mother of the Incarnate Word. It is the Word that is the Origin, development, and the completion of every life form. The beauty of all creation resides in the Word. The longing/ the groaning of all creation is a sacred journey from the state of a unique being in creation into the state of the Word. Mary now fully participates in the Word that she once carried in her womb; all beauty and brightness now become her garment. She makes it her continuous prayer that the Word’s harmony and communion be manifest in every living thing, in all peoples, conscience of all humanity, and throughout all of history.

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God-consciousness - Life of Virtues

Virtues are the beauty of human life, aiming at flourishing. A virtue is a stable and firm disposition to do good. Today, it is rooted in a response to the challenges of modern life, the fragmentation of meaning, and the pursuit of an authentic, integrated self.

The scholastic tradition organized virtues into a hierarchy.

Human Virtues (Moral Virtues):

These are the foundational virtues that allow us to live well in community. They include prudence, justice, fortitude, and temperance. They are accessible to human reason and are about ordering our passions and actions toward a good life.

Christian Virtues (Theological Virtues):

These are specifically Christian virtues: faith, hope, and charity (love). They are infused by God and direct our will toward God as their ultimate end.

In the context of a theological framework, moral virtues are perfected by the theological virtues, following the principle grace builds on nature. For example, without charity, prudence can become mere calculation, and justice can become rigid legalism.

The Will

The scholastic view of the will is that it is a rational appetite, free to choose, but also in need of proper formation. Intellect discerns and knows the truth factor. Will choses.

The Habit Loop

Your framework of a habit loop—trigger, process, reward— Trigger: The trigger is a cue that tells your brain to go into an automatic mode and which habit to use. Triggers can be almost anything: a time of day, a particular location, a specific person, a preceding action, or a certain emotional state. For example, seeing a donut shop (location) might trigger the urge to buy a donut. Process: This is the routine or behavior itself. In a habit, the process is what you do in response to the trigger. This is the behavior you want to automate. For example, stopping the car, going inside, and purchasing the donut. The process is the action that the brain links to the trigger. Reward: The reward is the positive reinforcement that makes the brain decide that this particular loop is worth remembering for the future. The reward can be physical, emotional, or social (a compliment from a friend). The reward satisfies the craving and tells, "This is good; let's do it again."

God's Influence: A Transcendent Frame of Reference

God consciousness transforms this understanding of virtue by introducing a transcendent motive and a divine exemplar.

Transcendent motive:

The concept of God gives a higher purpose to the moral virtues. For a believer, acting justly is not just about social harmony; it is about reflecting God's own justice in the world. Being courageous is not merely about overcoming fear for one's own good, but about trusting in God's providence and acting in accordance with a divine will. This theological perspective imbues the moral virtues with a meaning that goes beyond the immediate, human-centered goal of flourishing. The virtue becomes an act of worship and an expression of one's relationship with God.

The Divine Exemplar:

God is understood as the ultimate embodiment of all virtues. God is perfectly just, perfectly merciful, and perfectly wise. This provides a perfect, unchanging standard against which all human virtue can be measured. While a person can strive to be as courageous as a hero, they can also strive to be as just as God. This divine exemplar serves as both an inspiration and a constant guide, helping to prevent the virtues from becoming self-serving or relative.

God consciousness Strengthening the Will:

The theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity, which are gifts from God, work in tandem with the human moral virtues. Faith provides the conviction that the virtuous life is the true path. Hope provides the perseverance to continue striving for goodness even in the face of setbacks. Charity (divine love) animates and perfects all the other virtues, giving them a divine motivation that transforms them from good habits into acts of love for God and others. For example, a person may be temperate to maintain their health (a human virtue), but a person motivated by charity may also be temperate to better serve their community (a divine motivation).

God consciousness is the key to this formation because it provides the ultimate frame of reference for our choices. It influences the will by:

Reorienting Desire: It redirects our will from finite goods (wealth, status) to the infinite good, which is God.

Clarifying Purpose: It offers a clear, ultimate purpose for our lives, allowing us to see our actions not as isolated events but as part of a larger divine plan.

Strengthening Resolve: The reward of peace and purpose from the God consciousness habit loop strengthens our resolve to act virtuously, even when it is difficult.

The need to revive God consciousness today is urgent for several reasons:

Combating Fragmentation: The modern world is characterized by a fragmentation of self and meaning. God consciousness offers a unifying principle that integrates our moral, spiritual, and professional lives into a coherent whole.

A Cure for Disorientation: We live in an era of unprecedented information and choice, which can lead to a state of moral disorientation. God consciousness provides a stable compass, a "North Star," to guide our ethical and personal decisions.

Deepening Community: As we discussed in our previous conversation, God's presence is made real through the human community. Reviving God consciousness in individuals will, by extension, revitalize the community. It is a spiritual and social imperative. When individuals are consciously living out a divine life, they become the hands and heart of God for others, embodying the mutual support that is the very purpose of the Body of Christ.

For Aristotle, the motivation to be virtuous is rooted in a natural desire for this flourishing. A person acts courageously to overcome fear and achieve a good outcome, and this repeated action makes them a courageous person. The entire process is centered on human reason and the human community. For example, justice is no longer just about fairness for social harmony, but about honoring the inherent dignity of every person as an image of God. This divine framing elevates the virtue and strengthens the will's commitment to it. God consciousness is not just an influence here; it is the very lifeblood of these virtues. Through this consciousness, faith is not merely intellectual assent but a living trust; hope is not blind optimism but a confident anticipation of God's promises; and charity is not a mere feeling but a divine love that animates all our actions.

This loop is how God consciousness becomes a "second nature," as the scholastics would say—not something we force, but a natural disposition that shapes our character and actions.

Trigger: This could be an external event (a moment of beauty in nature, a person in need) or an internal prompt (a feeling of gratitude, a pang of conscience). It’s an invitation to acknowledge a reality beyond ourselves.

Process: This is the intentional act of turning our attention to God. It involves prayer, meditation, or an act of mercy. This is where the scholastic understanding of habit comes into play: a repeated action that, over time, trains our will.

Reward: The reward is not a transactional prize, but a profound and transformative experience. It is a sense of peace, clarity, purpose, and a deeper connection to both God and others. This reward reinforces the habit, making it more likely to occur again.

Conclusion

virtues are stable dispositions that guide human flourishing, but these are perfected and given ultimate meaning by a theological framework. while human virtues are developed through reason and aimed at earthly well-being, they are elevated and perfected by the theological virtues, which are infused by God. Without this divine influence, virtues can become rigid or self-serving. The will is a rational appetite and is need of formation. The concept of the habit loop—trigger, process, reward—can give us great insight. A trigger prompts an intentional process of turning to God (e.g., prayer or an act of mercy), which results in a spiritual reward (e.g., peace or purpose). This reward reinforces the habit, strengthening the will and reorienting a person's desires toward the ultimate good. God consciousness serves as a unifying principle to combat the fragmentation of self, a compass to cure moral disorientation, and a spiritual imperative to deepen community. God consciousness transforms human virtues from mere dispositions into a profound and meaningful participation in the life of God.

Preparedness

If we trust someone, it is a sign that we have known their faithfulness deep in our heart. Similarly, we can trust God, only if we have really believed and known God’s faithfulness in our heart. Love for God is not a condition or an obligation, but something that spontaneously arises in one who has truly known God. This divine life is surely within us. It is not enough to speak eloquently about this faithfulness; we must open ourselves to receive the gentle touch of that abundant life.

To be able to trust the intimacy God, we must also examine how tenderly we are connected to ourselves. Our love and faithfulness towards God may not be perfect with all our hearts. We may not have been trained to love and be faithful in such a way, and our pains and burdens may stand as defensive walls, making it rather difficult. The pains that have not known the touch of God can solidify into images of a God who is judgmental and who acts with punishment. This can reinforce a divine image within us that is prone to blame, judge, and suggest harm. This is why due preparation is needed, alongside love and faithfulness. This preparation must also be practiced not as a condition, but as an openness.

Faith is that relationship in which our own growth and life experiences, together with the life and freedom we know in God’s goodness, become really true. Openness is the door to that profound divine experience that embraces the heart, and that is true preparation. The infinite goodness and faithfulness, a nakedness of "this is what I am," is where the truth of me is seen and known by God, where mercy is poured in, goodness is planted in a gentle spirit, and the strength needed for that is sought with the same faithfulness in a new heart. These elements together are what we must call preparation and the fear of God. The fear of God is not a trembling in fear, but a thrilling pulsation of life.

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Preacher of grace

 St. Dominic Guzman, found his days and nights accompanied by God. He found in the weariness and suffering of humanity a living, breathing image of the crucified Christ. The Word revealed there was to be contemplated and proclaimed in compassion and kindness. As the mystery of the Incarnation had the light for all people, he contemplated this truth in the human conditions of   poverty, struggle, and frailty of human existence. At night, he was not simply praying for them, but carrying them in his heart, allowing his contemplation of God's truth to be informed and illuminated by their real-world condition. He found in the misery of the world the Word incarnated and completing them. He spoke to people in compassion the living truth of Christ as the life for their deep cry.

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Service a self gift

An essential aspect of love is self-gift. God's nature is love, and God's self-gift to us is Jesus. Jesus too offered himself for us. We offer service as a self-gift and rooted in love. Service primarily look for the good of the other. In offering the self-gift for the sake of the good of the other, we ourselves are transformed. For every act of service adds certain virtue to us and that adds beauty to our person. There the beauty of God shines. The mode of service as an offering and as a gift is very much aligned with our nature. Service adds humility, discipline, goodwill, purposefulness, and thus our nature is touched deeply as we engage in service whole heartedly.

Prayer of our hearts

We may have many concerns on prayer; which prayer to pray, how to pray, which prayer for what purpose and so on. It seems complicated, but at its heart, prayer is a free, open conversation with God. We know that there need to be trust, freedom, and a good heart if a good conversation is to happen. When Jesus taught us how to pray, he has asked us to call God, ‘Our Father.’ That is the heart of prayer. Because, prayer, even before being formed into a conversation, is a trusting relationship. It is the confidence of the children of God with which they open up their minds and hearts.

We live in different situations of life, and the experiences that come from these situations do form the nature and content of our prayer. Our work places, works, tables, shops, classrooms, bedroom, kitchen, roads we travel - all of them have to come in our prayers; our worries, our burdens, distractions, temptations and even our secret sins, and our hopes - they are all in our hearts and are open before God and are seen by God. The key is that we bring them to God only if we have found a deep trust in Him. When our prayers are rooted in that trust, they become a meaningful act of reliance. But without that trust, our prayers get distorted.

True prayer is not about using God for our benefit; not a like customer making a demand on the number of prayers invested. Prayer is not a magic spell that changes things as we desire. Prayer is also not a success mantra where we can get immediate success and victories. The situations we mentioned before are brought to God, not because God may have a magical walk and everything will be alright for us, but is a sign of our freedom and hope in God. Prayer seeks goodness for all, life for all; the desire for our good is not granted by the destruction of any others, even of so called evil-doers. God desires the good of all.

Often many of us struggle with a reality that God has not answered our prayers. Sometime, we might have even prayed for many years and have not seen any answer. Is there something wrong with our prayers or our lives? We may have got many answers from many people – faith was not enough, may be there are some sin bondages, perhaps there needs more purifications, God’s time has not come etc. These explanations present the effect of prayer as a scientific definition or mathematical equation where something is wrong or not fitting well. These explanations have made us feel ashamed, guilty, or fearful or more worried or anxious. Jesus would never do that. He did not equate prayer like that. His prayer, and his teaching on prayer encouraged us to ‘pray unceasingly,’ deepening our trust still talking to God with the confidence that God is good.

Very often we hear about the ‘power’ of prayer and about powerful prayers. These expressions have not touched the heart of prayer. Prayer is not a formula for a perfect, easy life. Prayer does not guarantee for a tension-free, victorious life where everything goes smoothly and we never struggle. Prayer doesn't remove these struggles. Prayer is the total openness of ourselves and our life with all that it contains. We present them before the abundance of life. It’s in those moments of vulnerability and trust that we find strength, peace, and the courage to face whatever comes our way.

Though being in the arms of the father, the child of God continues to hunger and asks for daily bread. We do fail and are in need to be forgiven. We still have to find the grace to forgive others. We still struggle with temptations and go through hardships. And yes, we still suffer because of the evil and pain that bitterness of humanity has created in the world.

Prayer is a conversation with God, Prayer is a trusting relationship with God, Prayer is the total openness of ourselves, and prayer is an active responsibility of the children of God. Like our expectations that God listens to our prayers, it is our Christian duty to compassionately listen with our hearts to the cry of the world. There, the unanswered prayers could be heard or supported, or consoled if the children of God absorb the nature of God and actively respond. Then, the prayer and worship become a living relationship after the heart of God.

Service: A Contemplative Act of Listening

Jesus, there is no doubt, enjoyed hospitality. He often visited the house at Bethany, the home of Martha, Mary and Lazarus. These sisters tell about Lazarus to Jesus as, ‘the one you love.’ Martha seems to be outgoing, and Mary is calm and confined to her house. Jesus loved them. As one who had ‘nowhere to lay his head’ (Matthew 8:20), Jesus relied on the hospitality of others for food, shelter, and rest. So, when Jesus said Mary has chosen “the better part” needs to be taken in the context of the lesson on discipleship.

The visit to Martha and Mary is placed within the section on “journey to Jerusalem,” and very often during this journey we hear about the importance of listening and obeying the Word of God (Luke 8:21, 11:28). Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus is a posture signifying attentive listening to the teacher.

During the time of Jesus, the disciples would sit at the feet of their Rabbi to learn, memorize, and model themselves after their master’s interpretation of the Torah. However, these Rabbinic schools were usually only for men. Women were expected to stay in the home and focus on domestic tasks, according to the strict social rules of the day. Direct, in-depth, and itinerant discipleship with a rabbi was not considered an appropriate role for them.

In Luke, it is very significant that there were women accompanying, following, and ministering to him, and many of these women are personally named, granting them individual identities and acknowledging their unique, active contributions in a context women’s existence or contribution was frequently unacknowledged, and their status largely defined by the male head of the household.

Sitting at the Lord’s feet, there is not an affectionate attachment or a filial devotion. It is a gesture of active listening to a master. This radical act signifying her desire for direct instruction also justifies women’s active engagement and spiritual leadership within the early Christian movement. The “better part” Mary chose is available to anyone who decides to make it a priority.

Now, let’s look at Martha. Hospitality was highly valued in ancient Mediterranean culture. We see Abraham serving three unknown men at his home, not knowing who they were. The Jewish law also called for the ethical responsibility of welcoming and serving others, even strangers. Early Christian communities were characterized by strong communal bonds, shared meals, and mutual care and service. Some may have become overly preoccupied or even burdened by the tasks of caring for the poor, widows, and orphans, even being deprived of the sharing of the word and breaking of the bread.

Jesus’ affirmation of Mary’s choice is not a condemnation of service. It is a call for focusing on the primary relationship with Christ and his teaching. If service became merely a task-oriented activity without spiritual grounding, it risked becoming fruitless or leading to burnout. Even good and necessary activities can be sources of anxiety and distraction. It can be true of any form of ministry including preaching, teaching, healing, and service. Mary’s choice teaches us that being with the Lord is the source from which all our service should flow.

Listening to the Lord, the ‘better part’ Mary chose, is essential for authentic service i.e. Martha's task. Being ‘at the feet’ of Jesus should never be seen as a passive piety that avoids action. That is not what Jesus lived and taught. For Jesus, producing good fruits was the real sign of choosing the better part. Even according to the Old Testament teachings, keeping of the law was not merely a set of ritualistic observances; a covenant living was meant to live justice, compassion, and care for the vulnerable. Jesus related the meaning of true discipleship to concrete actions of love towards one’s neighbour. Any spiritual approach that focuses only on comfortable devotion without emphasizing the importance of “producing fruits” or “keeping the Word” risks becoming self-centered and disconnected from the real world.

Some spiritual teachings view the ‘one thing necessary’ is to do only ‘spiritual’ things. These passive, pious attitudes that show no interest in action or service, or that condemning them all as worldly or social is a common spiritual pathology. This hyper-spiritualized faith detaches itself from the concrete realities of human suffering and injustice. They are like soil without enough depth for roots. True spirituality, therefore, cannot be disembodied or separate from the physical and social dimensions of life. Listening to the Word of God and keeping it is about discerning and participating in the active work for justice, peace, and consolation for human conditions.

If we reflect on Jesus’ statement that “I feel compassion for them, they may fall on the way,” is an example of compassionate listening where service becomes eucharistic and revelatory. Direct engagement with the lived realities of others, especially those who are among the least and neglected, cannot be simply an application of a pre-understood divine word, but an encounter that shapes and deepens our understanding of the Word. When we actually serve, we are confronted with the ‘scripure’ of human suffering, joy, injustice, and resilience. This lived ‘text’ merges with the written Scripture, and become new episodes that God speaks to us. In this sense, service is not just an act of charity, but an act of deep listening to the voices that often go unheard in dominant theological or moral discourses. Service, in this context, is the environment in which our understanding of God, justice, and salvation is shaped. True service often requires vulnerability, where we are open to the unexpected, that new revelations about God, humanity, and ourselves occur. This radical openness is a form of deep listening, allowing the ‘other’ (whether a person, a community, or a situation) to speak to us in ways that passive listening might not.

📺Service: A Contemplative Act of Listening

Neighbours and outsiders

 If the story of the Good Samaritan had to be retold to suit a pleasant hearing from the scribes and pharisees, the high priest would have been the one who would extend help. He must be in the temple court, not on the wayside; there is a plea for help; and the High Priest, not a despised Samaritan, extending aid. The very concept of ‘chosen people,’ had become a secure and comfortable fortress against the universality of God’s love. The freedom of the covenant, meant to liberate and expand, instead contracted into a rigid exclusivity.

“Whoever is in need is a neighbour” is not a new definition, it is about docility of heart, and an attitude. Of course, the Scribes and the Pharisees were wrong, for their heartlessness and hypocrisy. Our "likes and dislikes" become the foundational stones of new walls against a quality Christian living, often disguised as ‘wisdom or prudence’ or a ‘true Christian life.’ These convenient boundaries, defined by religion, customs, beliefs, socio-economic status, political affiliation, or even lifestyle choices, become formidable fortresses around our hearts. This is precisely where the ‘exploitative and manipulative systems’ take root. We reinterpret our comfortable ‘right and wrong,’ ‘we’ define the ‘we’ and ‘they’ and make Christian life conventional and conditional.  We create fertile ground for injustice and breed vipers and scorpions.

Like the definition of the neighbour in the light of the Gospel, it is significant to ask, “Who is an outsider” according to these structures we create, and how are they formulated? By Religion outsiders are those who don’t believe what we believe, and those who don’t share our theological framework. By customs and culture the outsiders are those who don’t live like us, speak like us, or share our values. They have come from some other place, they cannot join us and we cannot go with them.

By Beliefs and Ideologies, if we see, the outsiders are those who hold different political views. It can be politicised form of religion or moral values. They are to be seen as ‘enemies,’ and any kindness extended to them is a betrayal of our ‘truth.’ By economic status the outsiders are those who are poor, and being with them is below our status because we are of a higher rank.

How are these outsiders? Often, we chose to be in echo Chambers where we are surrounded ourselves with those who think like us, mostly with identity providers with noble faces of language, traditions, culture, value and so on. Selective Reading of certain portion of the scripture is perhaps the most deceptive one in labelling the outsiders and justifying their exclusion. The emphasis shifts from love justice, hospitality to closedness, from compassionate service to doctrinal purity. These are cultivated attributing Purity and elitism to our group, demonizing ‘the other’ and glorifying ‘us.’ under these closed chambers our hearts shrinks.

Living a covenant with God, living the gospel is to actively dismantle these fortresses, brick by brick, by seeing the image of God in every human being, regardless of the labels we or society has placed upon them. The very act of categorizing someone as an ‘outsider’ immediately lessens their humanity in our eyes, making it easier to justify their marginalization, their suffering, or even their humiliation and exploitation.

The story of the Good Samaritan asks us not just to know who our neighbour is, but to be a neighbour, particularly to those we are most conditioned to ignore, dismiss, or even despise. It is a call to a radical, unconditioned love that dares to transcend every boundary and shatter every convenient narrative we construct to protect ourselves from the beautiful freedom of genuine compassion.

The Risk of the Gospel

The lessons on the discipleship had a sight of beautiful outcome of the preaching of the Gospel. Each of them also had something to tell about the quality of discipleship. But the Gospel also speaks that it will face with challenges and hostility. It is inevitable not because of a strange God, but because the Gospel sets all children of God free. All being righteous in the freedom of God is not a good news for many.

Though we are disciples, we do categorise people according to language, ethnicity, gender etc. We don't find anything strange in terming natives and outsiders, cursed and privileged, high cast and low cast, because Gospel has never been a story to be lived. Instead, Christianity was a title to be taken pride in. So, the Gospel becomes really an offence.

It is important to depart from the pompous Christianity and find the heart of the gospel in the cave of our heart like Benedict found in Subiaco. Entering into the cave is to find the freedom to take up the risk of the Gospel to face the objections. The altar the Gospel prescribes is the joy of the nearness of the kingdom among all peoples, rich and poor, natives and outsiders, cursed and the privileged.