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Catholicity may be better experienced when Christians are able to see the church beyond its 'visible boundaries.'
The current debates among christians on war appear to tell that the politicised Christianity has no place for Christ or the values of the kingdom of God. Power and domination and business are its interest.
Some Christians seem to believe that cross has failed to offer salvation; salvation and peace come from the nuclear deterrence. Strangely, this salvation is realized only when 'we' have ammunitions and others are powerless, and when we have the dominating power. This peace and salvation is strange to the Gospel.
Just as there are evils, the structures that breed them are also to be 'sanctified.' Better, the Christians nurture a right conscience to introspect historically the structures of evil in the world, before canonizing the missile trade, invasions and dominations.
War is a MORTAL SIN.
For the Catholics, it may be a crucial time time to check on to their Christian conscience. We could go ahead with convenient moral interpretations on war. We cannot do it anymore. It is not about 'I am with Pope Leo,' or 'I am with Trump,' it is about how we perceive building of structures of greed, power, arrogance, supremacy, and willful hatred. Perhaps, we ourselves have been breeding it in different ways, but no more.
some weeks before, it was essential that Hormuz be open, because the vulnerable are affected across the globe. Now the Hormuz is going to be blocked for all nations putting pressure on all the globe. where is the concern for the vulnerable now?
In the kingdom of God there is no specially chosen people; all are the children of God. There is no elite holy people who can demonise others and justify their violence.
Of course, "God hears the cry of those who fight evil," not of those having evil intentions and killing whom they identify to be 'evil' and cover up their own Killing as holy acts. Ultimately God desires good of all, not behaving like a mad goon.
Your GOD is too small, if you have to take God's name to cover up your madness, pride and greed.
We live in a time of empty realities. Many of us feel like a modern-day remnant, just left out. The Babylonians once took the useful, the scholars, the priests, the craftsmen and the smiths the best who can contribute to the economic powers are chosen and the unskilled and the ordinary just live to survive, Many feel discarded by technology or shifting economies. We are told our value lies in our utility, our skills, or our bank accounts.
If we listen to Christ today,
are we among who hear his voice as ‘Blessed are you!’ the very first Gospel
moment begins with the greeting of the angel to Mary ‘Blessed are you,’ Jesus in
his first sermon at Nazareth announced the time of God’s blessedness. Jesus looks
at the very people the world ignores - the hungry, the weeping, the merciful and
says, ‘Blessed are you.’
Using passage from Isaiah 61 he
opened the kingdom first to the poor. “The Lord has anointed me to preach good
news to the poor...” (Is 61:1) “Blessed are the poor theirs is the kingdom of
God.” The anointing to preach good news is “...to comfort all who mourn ... to
give them a garland instead of ashes.” (Is 61:2-3) “Blessed are those who mourn,
they will be comforted.” Isiah cried out calling all to the richness of God’s
grace “…, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters... why spend money for that
which is not bread?” (Is 55:1-2) “Blessed are those who hunger.. they shall be
satisfied.” In the ancient world, inheriting the land was for the strong and
the military conquerors. Prophetic promise is that the land (and the world)
ultimately belongs to the non-violent, not the conquerors. Zephaniah focuses on the remnant who were
meek and useless. “But I will leave within you the meek and humble, who trust
in the name of the Lord... They will eat and lie down and no one will make them
afraid.” (Zephaniah 3:12-13) Psalm 37:11 is the foundation for the Beatitude “Blessed
are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”
To ‘see God’ was the ultimate
goal of the pilgrims. They would sing on the way: “Who may ascend the mountain
of the Lord? ... The one who has clean hands and a pure heart... They will
receive blessing from the Lord.” (Psalm 24:3-5) “Blessed are the pure hearted
for they shall see God.” From many passages we know that the prophets were
obsessed with the idea that God prefers mercy over sacrifice. “For I desire
mercy, not sacrifice, and acknowledgment of God rather than burnt offerings.”
(Hosea 6:6) To be merciful is to reflect the very character of God’s steadfast
love. Peace in the prophetic sense isn’t just the absence of war; it is the
presence of integrity. “The righteous who walks in his integrity - blessed are
his children after him!” Proverbs 20:7 (Micah 4:3 / Isaiah 2:4). Peace descends
not only on them, but also upon their children. In the Roman world, the Emperor
was the ‘Son of God’ because he brought peace through war conquest. By calling
peacemakers ‘sons of God,’ Jesus gives them a divine title. Jesus claims that
those who bring peace through reconciliation are the true children of God.
The Beatitudes are real when we
desire and actualize God’s will in our lives. This blessedness isn’t a promise
of future riches; it’s an invitation to realize that God’s favor is currently
resting on the very people society ignores. For generations, many considered
prophetic hope as a pie in the sky comfort, something that may happen in the
afterlife. But in the person of Jesus, ‘it has come already.’ The healing of
the broken-hearted is a current event. We no longer look past our tears toward
a far distant shore; instead, we look into the face of the One who stands among
us.
Jesus does not just comfort and
heal those who walk in the valley of death; He identifies the Kingdom with
them. Blessedness of the kingdom is with them and within them. The experience
of the kingdom is also personified in Jesus. He is the living fulfillment of
the promises He preached, being in our midst to offer Himself as the answer to
our deepest needs, “I am the bread, I will give you rest, why are you afraid,
do not weep, and finally abide with me….”
Each promise (comfort, mercy,
the land) is coupled with a clear emptiness (mourning, hunger, or poverty).
This is a call for the mutual building of the Kingdom, a participation in God’s
work. We extend our hands to the poor, share our bread to the hungry, comfort
those who mourn, stand with those hunger for justice, make efforts for peace-making,
… Just as Isaiah says the comforted mourners will in turn become ‘Oaks of
Righteousness’ who rebuild the ruins, the experience of the Beatitudes call a
people to move from being the recipients of the promise to the agents of it.
However, in our world today,
many face a new deportation, forced to move away from their homelands. Even the
‘skilled’ who survived the early wave of change now ‘hunger and thirst for
justice’ as job security vanishes. We are a world of people living in a ‘nowhere
land’ of digital gig work and agricultural decline. There is a powerful system
that values them only for their immediate utility. Here the useless and the
humble and meek never own the land. They are moved to the margins with beautiful
policies of minimum wages. We are met with empty realities, and we carry it
home without being satisfied.
If the agricultural sector fails
and technology leaves us empty, gathering together as the people of God, our
communities and simple social structures need to reflect the reality of the
beatitudes where ‘righteousness and peace kiss each other’ (Psalm 85:10). Our
current empty realities may then be transformed into a poverty of spirit
required for the Kingdom to break through.
Usually when we hear ‘King,’ we might imagine a throne, a crown, a sword, perhaps an emperor waiting for everyone to shout, "Hail, O King!" It happens even now. But if that's what we imagine about Christ, we have missed the entire point of this Feast.
When this Feast was established
in 1925 by Pope Pius XI, the world was in a terrible crisis. The world was
consumed by aggressive nationalism, militarism in different parts of Europe,
godless secularism, and rising dictatorships like Nazism and Communism. These
movements placed the nation or the state on a throne, demanding absolute
loyalty. This was a crisis that crushed individual conscience and setting the
stage for the devastation of World War II.
The Church was challenged on
every front: secularists tried to keep God out of education and public life,
and dictators persecuted anyone who gave their ultimate loyalty to the Pope
instead of the State.
Initially, to protect
itself and its members, the Church also adopted the authoritarian mindset of
the age. It centralised power, focusing heavily on strict
obedience and hierarchical command. It developed a ‘siege mentality,’ where it
saw the world outside as an enemy to be defended against, sometimes leading it
to act rigidly and even condemn progress, as seen in the Syllabus of Errors
Pope Pius IX in 1864. Thus, In fighting a political dictatorship, the Church
sometimes began to look a little too much like a militant, authoritarian
structure itself. There were revivalist groups and movements that adopted
military-like dresses and lifestyles and continued a language of defeating and conquering.
Christ’s Kingship is
fundamentally unlike any power structure on earth. As the Firstborn of all
creation, His authority is cosmic and sustaining. It is lifegiving which is of
greatest importance. He is the one who holds all
things together. He does not rule through force; He rules in Truth, Love, and
Life. It was not a nostalgic celebration, reclaiming the lost glory of the
church or the return of Christendom.
He doesn’t want ‘Hail, O King’
praises, nor greeting with victory symbols and banners. He wants to be greeted
by the simple, embodied acts of tenderness, care, and service. Look at the
famous passage from Matthew 25: "I was hungry and you gave me food...
naked and you clothed me, I was condemned, you came near to me.” This Kingship is defined by vulnerable service,
seen in the self-emptying love of the Cross. This is the authority of life and
sustenance, unlike the dictatorial power that only controls and exploits. The
ultimate celebration of Christ’s rule is not a political or religious ceremony.
It is the radical act of recognizing and serving the King recognised within the
most marginalized person. When we live out and offer the promises of the
beatitudes, we are actually saying, ‘Hail, O King,’ to Christ Himself in human
form. When we clothe the naked or visit the sick, we are not performing mere
charity; we are literally recognizing and serving the King dwelling within the
marginalized people. This is the ultimate celebration of Christ’s rule: making
His presence visible by identifying Him in each of us. When the good Samaritan
cared for the wounded man, his oil and wine and the care was really welcoming
to the Son of Man. This style of kingship is the authority of care and
nurturing, life and sustenance, unlike dictatorial power, which controls and
exploits.
The relevance of the feast today
is the call for every Christian to make Christ's Kingly nature visible in their
daily deeds. Christ's Kingship for our Age of Humanity is founded on human
action and social structures rather than seeing him as a mythic hero or author
of commands. His Kingship applied to our own Self counters our individualism,
greed, and indifference. Accusation, condemnation, and cursing are ruling
styles, but not of Christ. So, it is an invitation for us to give up attitudes
of judgment, condemnation, or separation. In our age of misinformation, where
ruling happens through curated narratives or propaganda, Christ’s rule in truth
challenges us to guard against siding with these elements.
But, if we truly desire this to
be a reality in our lives and in the Church, we must abandon the image of an
emperor’s rule and reimagine Christ’s kingship as the author of life and
existence.
We hear so much nowadays about the Last Days. Are we really living in the end times? Many people anxiously look for answers in headlines about disasters, wars, political chaos, or economic collapse. They worry about the next earthquake, the next tsunami, or the appearance of some asteroids. Let us be clear: The true signs of Christ’s coming are not in the tremors of the earth, but in our readiness to be transformed into the likeness of Christ.
How far have we allowed ourselves to be transformed into His
likeness? Of course, we are not fully grown into Christ. But every day, every moment brings an
extraordinary opportunity once again. It is the chance to listen to the greeting
of grace and receive Christ – His nature, His love, and His truth – into our
own flesh and blood. Christ’s coming is a great revelation of Him in us, in
others, and in the entire creation. Being
one in him, we know him in everything and in everyone.
The Kingdom of God is like a great treasure hidden in a field. God placed a great treasure in Mary. She was ‘full of grace.’ But her greatness was not just in receiving the treasure; it was in preserving that grace responsibly and offering a complete cooperation with God’s will. Mary offered herself in total surrender for her entire life, even when that purpose led to the uncertainty of the Cross. Amidst our daily struggles, our exhaustion, and the brokenness of relationships, how do we emulate this divine cooperation? Mary was offered in the temple as a custom, but, we resent ourselves to God in our daily life. Our temple is often filled with anxiety, stress, and noise. Our cooperation is not about superhuman effort; it is about a sincere Surrender to the chaos and pain of the present moment.
Let us stop measuring our daily obedience against a grand,
future plan. Instead, practice the surrender in different moments of our day.
When the traffic jam ignites our anger, when the colleague exploits our
patience, when failure crushes our spirit, let us say, "Lord, I offer
these to your purpose." This surrender creates a space for the grace to
work. The ultimate question then becomes: Have we given birth to Christ? To
"give birth to Christ" means that our cooperation has become so
complete that Christ’s nature - His love, patience, mercy, and truth—is made
visible in our own actions. If we have truly consented, surrendered, and
actively cooperated with grace, then our lives should manifest His Presence.
It is deeply painful when we come to realise that we are being used or victimized, whether that is happening at home, at work, or within our community. We act with good intentions, but someone is taking advantage of our goodwill. We often feel crushed, but at the same time we are paralyzed, hesitating to say ‘no’ because we fear the rejection from these people whom we helped or served. First of all, let us bring into our own awareness what violation we are really undergoing; don’t just suffer. Define it clearly: ‘They use my time, my commitment, my work in fact for their own benefit.’ They speak high ideals - good for humanity, service to God and so on, but it looks like our commitment does not yield the promised good. Perhaps through the abuse of power or manipulation of beliefs, they have violated a healthy boundary set to protect our time, energy, feelings, and resources. A healthy boundary protects our inherent worth, and identifying the violation of this boundary is an act of love for oneself and necessary self-justice.
Taking courage means reclaiming our space and setting clear
limits on our time and availability. True kindness and generosity can never be
built on compulsion or force, nor should it lead to our exhaustion. Take
courage and guard the boundary, its not being selfish, but stopping allowing
someone using our goodwill and service. We decide to stop doing that for our
own good. Continuing to do it is never a sacrifice. There may be occasions
where we are highly vulnerable – under the clutch of a powerful exploiter or
unable to escape. In such systems, direct confrontation is impossible and
unsafe. Here, the necessity of seeking guidance is important: a trusted
counselor, therapist, or a spiritual guide is essential for processing trauma
and ensuring protection.
All these processes are sustained by Divine Grace. Grace may
not become a sudden solution, but as an ever-present strength. Grace never
demands that we passively suffer every harm; instead, it offers the internal
capacity to hold onto our inherent value even when we are trapped and
externally powerless. For the truly helpless, Grace offers the constancy of a
presence. This presence offers the recognition that we are loved and valued,
even in this condition. The inherent worth that Grace constantly reminds us of
is the sustenance until the day we can fully walk free.
Often the pain of neglect or rejection breaks our hearts. The care we receive may not be meeting our need and desire for an intimate bond. It may be familial, professional or social. Should we just suffer the pain of avoidance, and rejection or face it? To treat this pain, perhaps we cant expect others to change and care for us, or to ensure affection and warmth. We must first affirm our own inherent value and move from silent suffering into self-care and self-compassion. Let us begin with naming what we really go through instead of bearing an unnamed burden. Maybe we need to converse with them whether our feelings are reasonable and worthy of acknowledgment.
To root our worth deeply, let us give the care we long for. Welcome,
accept, and find the worth. Let us be compassionate to ourselves, and take
courage to speak out without placing blame on those who hurt. Tell “I feel hurt
when ... rather than pointing to other person's failure like “You never care ...”
Don’t expect that they will begin to care for us. We have found a new strength.
Ultimately, let us immerse our efforts of self-nurturing in Divine Care, where
we are perfectly and unconditionally cared for. In our body, in our burdens,
failings the divine life finds a dwelling place. Divine care is uniquely
offered through our own self-nurturing before it comes through any human
relationship. Grace grants us the capacity to believe we are the Beloved, even
when human relations often disappoint. We transform the wound of neglect and
rejection into the holy meeting place of self-compassion and limitless divine
love, receiving a permanent source of consolation and comfort.
‘Rest in peace’ is not a farewell, but an invitation. Being within the harshness of daily burdens or facing the cold responses from friendships or relationships, tenderness, gentleness, compassion, and personal care may be often absent. How deeply are we exhausted, burdened or stressed? Rest that Jesus offers is a tender touch that acknowledges and values our weariness and fears. Grace is the divine capacity to lift what we cannot carry. The burden remains a part of the human experience, but grace lightens the crushing aspect of the stress. It can settle our restlessness and grant peace. It does not mean that we can simply watch things happening, the touch of grace makes our efforts sustainable, not the excuse for committed labour. So, rest truly comes in peace, after fruitful labour, a fruitful life. At the end of the day, listen ‘rest in peace,’ and at the end of life, listen ‘rest in peace.’
Is the Church just an institution? No. Its true nature is Motherhood, defined by tenderness and healing. As the Body of Christ, the Church holds both the divine life of the Holy Spirit and our human burdens – our sweat, our pain, our tears. We don't receive grace just for ourselves. We rely on radical interdependence, nourishing one another to build the community. The Church must be a home and a womb where everyone can be reborn in Christ. Not just by her title, but by her nature and inherent attitude, the Church must be welcoming, caring, and healing. Only through this tenderness can the Church truly be called a Mother.
Just
like Christ, the Church, as the Body of Christ, possesses both human and divine
dimensions. The Holy Spirit fills the Church with divine life, meaning we live
by grace. Yet, we live bearing our burdens, pains, and emptiness; we sweat and
weep. We, together, make up the Church, and the holiness of this Body shines
brightly in our honest living and radical interdependence. Crucially, the
graces we receive are not meant for ourselves alone; they run throughout the
Body, nourishing and completing one another, thereby building up the community.
Whether as a teacher, a scientist, a watchman, a preacher or a priest, we participate
equally in the holiness of God, sustained by mutual grace.
Taking
Mother Mary as the type of the Church, the entire Body, including all its
members, cooperates with the will of God through this active interdependence.
In doing so, we continue the life of Christ, being his own Body. That Body is
the temple where God dwells; there we worship and adore God. It is Christ who
is the sole truth of the Church. Consequently, the Church’s vital life and
unity are threatened by any single person, devotion, or ideology that claims to
be the only way. Such exclusive tendencies, by fragmenting the Body, deprive
the Church of its fundamental capacity to be a Mother. The Church exists as a
home and a womb where everyone can find a place and everyone can be reborn in
Christ. If the Church is to embody this maternal nature, each member must
strive to personalize and live out these welcoming and self-giving attitudes in
their own lives.
Grief is not a failure or a sign of weakness; it is the most natural and necessary response to loss. When we experience the death of a loved one or endure the breaking of an intimate relationship, our pain is truly an echo of our love. Far from being mere gloom or sadness, this sorrow becomes a holy sorrow when strengthened by Christian hope. This hope is far more than simple optimism or wishful thinking; it is an openness to grace – a divine power to move us from the emptiness of loss toward the fullness of the life we are still called to live.
If unchecked, however, grief can become destructive, leading
to an attachment to the pain that chains us to the past. Even if the loss stems
from a painful opportunity missed, a personal mistake, or a wrong choice, the
ultimate focus must remain the life expected, not what was lost. Let us take
courage to acknowledge the loss and, with what is gone, undergo a graceful
death in the spirit, so that we may be truly free to enter into a greater
measure of life.
Life goes through beautiful moments of surrender, moments of offering. In fact, they are moments that we find that our life had flowered and borne fruits. There had to be a sacrificial death we had to undergo for this. Willingness to die brings the newer form of life which we may not have even imagined. Death is not just the last moment of our life, it is the ultimate moment of surrender, placing our life, past, present, and future, entirely into God’s mercy. Jesus died. One who has died once cannot die again. Readiness to die is a power we gain. In serving, helping, forgiving, in letting go of things, in accepting a painful moment, there is a graceful death, a beautiful surrender, a self-offering that gives us a newer life.
Hell is “the ultimate consequence of sin itself … rather than a place, hell indicates the state of those who freely and definitively separate themselves from God, the source of all life and joy,” stated Pope John Paul II in his General Audience on July 28, 1999. Is it a state that we enter into only after death? At every life choice we have a choice for or against grace, for or against Christ. If we have begun our life of grace there is already heaven that we have entered into - the life, the presence of God. Perhaps there is state of hell too in us (that separated state) since we have not been completely filled by grace. Since two possibilities are there to keep away from grace, deliberately and due to inability, it necessitates a community dimension of the reception of grace. Others facilitate one to be open for grace. One who denies grace cuts oneself off from the total reality, and that is only emptiness. Because, together we have the fullness of life. We speak of eternal death and eternal darkness, similarly we can imagine of the possibility of nothingness and emptiness. By denial of grace we chose for this emptiness. If hell as a place is not there, is it leading to a lawlessness? Not at all! It further adds extra responsibility to build a filial relationship with God irrespective of the fear of punishment. That will check how important and valuable God/Christ is in our lives.
Return to the earth is not about perishability, but as transformation and a new possibility—simply a re-entry into the cycle of life’s renewal. This natural process shows also a soul-forming process in us here; it fundamentally rejects the view that the world is full of evil. The Earthly life, with its struggles, choices, and relationships, is the necessary environment for our growth into the image of Christ. Our moral choices, love, pain, and mercy are the crucible and the clay that actively shape our eternal character. Every bit of the world, its history, structures, and choices have shaped our souls. Some are created, some are brutally destroyed. Those whom we intend to desroy are essential for the completion of our own souls. The earth has yielded its fruit; in us, we are born of the earth and we return to it. Therefore, we must see in us the flowering of the earth which God has beautifully arranged. It is not a place Satan fills with lures and temptations. The earth and our own body are the sacrament of God’s love. To reject or devalue the Earthly life as a halt in a strange world is to devalue the very environment God chose for our formation. The overemphasis on the perishability of earthly life is something that tragically undervalues God’s creation and the profound work accomplished here. Therefore, let us approach our temporal lives not with hatred, but with reverence, recognizing in every struggle and joy the ongoing, sacred work of the creator.
In many ways, our faith has carried a sense of sadness; the feeling that this world is a spiritual prison, a "valley of tears," and that we are merely "exiles" counting the days until we finally escape to our true home. Christ has given a new vision to see the world, not as a broken place we must flee, but as the very place where we find the Father's home. The peace, the provision, the welcome, and the safety of Heaven are not purely future promises; they are the present spiritual reality available to us here and now. This means practicing the awareness that God is not up there in a distant, unreachable heaven, but here, in the quiet of our kitchen, the chaos of our workday, and the silence of our prayer. If we spend our entire lives feeling exiled and miserable, longing for death to simply rescue us from a painful existence, then we misunderstand the gift of Christ. Death cannot be seen as a liberation from earthly life, because our life is already meant to be lived in the freedom of the Father's home. Death does not free us into a perfect world. We must learn to live the freedom of the father’s home which may grow and sprout even after death.
Prayer means talking to God. This conversation gradually transforms us into communion with God. This union is a transformative encounter tha...