SPRINGBOARDS and WALKING STICKS

 While eleven solid young men hid behind locked doors in fear, a woman walked alone to a tomb in the dark. And it is to her , not to Peter, not to John, not to any of the Twelve, that the Risen Christ chose first to appear (John 20: 11-18). Thomas Aquinas , who was not known for his generosity toward women in theological roles, nonetheless called her apostola apostolorum the apostle to the apostles, and recognised this as a title of genuine honour. For Aquinas, the mode of apostolicity matters: she was sent, she proclaimed, she was believed. John 20 is the most quietly radical passage in all four gospels. Read it carefully and you notice that the resurrection narrative does not begin with a council of high priests, a gathering of the Twelve, or a male voice of authority. It begins with a woman, alone, weeping, in a garden, before dawn. Mary Magdalene comes to the tomb while it is still dark; the darkness is not merely meteorological. It is existential. The disciples have scattere...

 Easter is the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus. The Lord is risen. As He had said, He is risen. Those who do not have a Christian faith, even those reading the gospels as pure literature, will finally fall back into their chair with relief and a triumphant wow—no, everything is not over. Jesus unfolds, he reveals, a little more of the great journey of life—the resurrection. As humans first we become aware of life, and then we experience death. Most of us stop there, in doubt, skepticism, cynicism, agnosticism, atheism, and the list could go on. Jesus, through the event of his resurrection tells us, do not stop there, life continues into resurrection. Resurrection could be understood two ways. Resurrection Is the Central Blueprint of the Cosmos What Jesus revealed through the paschal mystery — the life, death and resurrection of Jesus — is the revelation of the universal pattern of things. He summarises it this way: order > disorder > reorder (life > death > ...

 Death had overpowered the world for a while, symbolically meaning from the first parents who listened to the serpent in the Garden of Eden to the fulfillment of the promise of a saviour, people lived in the valley of death, valley of sin. The question was who will save us from sin and death? The same question is asked in the gospels as “who will roll back the stone for us.” They had even kept guards, lest the dead man walk. On the Easter morning, women go to the tomb of Jesus, and find the stone already rolled back, not by our merit, or not one of us rolled the stone back; they look in and see that the tomb is empty. According to Matthew, they meet a man there, or an angel there who told them, “as he had said, He is Risen.”   Word spreads. Silence is broken, people began to speak again, the apostles began to walk and run again, they began to gather again. This is Easter morning. Resurrection of Jesus literally brought life back on track. The ancient foe is defeated. The apost...

 He never wrote a single word. He owned nothing. He wandered the markets and alleyways of Athens in worn sandals, stopping strangers, generals, poets, politicians, and asking them one disarmingly simple thing: what do you mean by that? And yet Socrates, this stonemason's son who left no manuscript and no monument, reshaped the entire architecture of Western thought. The weapon he used was not a sword, not wealth, not even eloquence. It was a question. And two and a half millennia later, that weapon remains the sharpest one available to any thinking person. he stood by the principle, “The unexamined life is not worth living." The Most  Dangerous  Man in Athens Athens in the fifth century BC was a city convinced of its own wisdom. It had built the Parthenon. It had invented democracy. Its generals had repelled the Persian Empire. Its citizens were not humble men. And then came Socrates, asking them if they actually knew what justice was. What courage meant. What v...

 The paschal mystery, the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, is the revelation of the universal pattern of things, claims Richard Rohr; he summarises it this way: order > disorder > reorder (life > death > resurrection). God did not just resurrect Jesus to prove a point; rather, the resurrection of Jesus makes visible to the eyes of the disciples and to all of us what God is always doing everywhere. Death is not the opposite of life; it is a necessary part of the transition into a deeper, transformed life. Every time a seed breaks open to become a tree, or a human ego suffers a blow only to find deeper humility—it is the resurrection pattern at work. When we view the resurrection through Richard Rohr’s lens, it shifts from being a distant historical doctrine or reality in the past, 2000 years ago (about Jesus) or a distant reality or possibility in the future (for us). Resurrection is the central blueprint of the cosmos—then our spiritual job is to participate i...

  God sends his son into the world: to use a modern sociological expression, God conducts the most revealing, most expensive social experiment; God sends his son into the world to love, and only love; you shall have no other powers than loving. You shall not judge, you shall not condemn, you shall not punish; If someone slaps you on one cheek, show the other cheek as well, if someone takes your shirt, give your coat as well, if someone asks you to go one mile with them, go two miles; be gentle and only gentle; in the words of Isaiah 42, a bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not put out; it highlights the extreme gentleness, compassion, and restorative care of the Messiah. The words of gospel may be most fitting to him, I send you out as a sheep among wolves (Matthew 10:16). He became Immanuel (God with us). He worked like us, ate like us, drank like us, lived like us, except that he did not sin, meaning he did not do anything against the will of one who se...

 From the reading, John 13: 1-15, and the actions that are unfolding around us, we could reflect upon two significant events: Jesus washing the feet of his disciples and the Last Supper. Jesus washing the feet of his disciples After the meal has begun, Jesus breaks the feast to draw maximum importance and focus to something that he thought as important as his suffering and death. Jesus gets up from the table, removes his outer robe, ties a towel around his waist, fills a basin with water, and begins to wash his disciples’ feet. In the ancient world, foot-washing was assigned to the lowest servant in a household; and not just any servant; Jewish law considered the task too degrading even for a Hebrew slave. It was the work of the outsider, the foreigner, the one with nothing left to lose. Jesus, the one they called Rabbi, Lord, the one some believed would restore a kingdom, takes that position on the floor, one pair of feet at a time. Washing of another’s feet is an antidote; it is ...

 The upper room is a study in contrasts. Twelve men recline at a well-laid table—bread, wine, the smell of roasted lamb—momentarily lost in the comfort of a good meal, unaware that history is unfolding around them. And in the centre of them sits Jesus: fully awake, fully aware. He knows what is happening in Jerusalem. He knows what is coming for him in the hours ahead. He knows the betrayers and deniers. He knows this is the last time he will break bread with the people he loves most. To carry that knowledge and still pour the wine; to know the end and still kneel down to wash feet; that is the beginning of any meditation on priesthood. The Priest is not Free of Suffering; He enters it Willingly and Knowingly The Scriptures show us something startling about priesthood in the paradigm of Jesus as a priest. He knew that most of the seeds he had sown had been scattered, choked, scorched, and taken away (the parable of the sower Matthew 13: 3-9). He knew that among the twelve reclining...

 Here we are standing in the silent shadow of impending sacrifice, Jesus did not just talk about love; he showed that love is a verb that requires us to get our hands dirty for the sake of others. In that quiet, humble moment, he taught us that no one is too important to serve, and no one is too broken to be served. The Company Jesus Kept There is something worth pausing over before anything else is said: the company Jesus chose to keep on the last night of his life. He had been arrested, in the eyes of the religious establishment, for precisely this crime; eating with sinners, tax collectors, the disreputable, the morally compromised. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all record the scandal of it. And yet here, in the upper room, on the very night before the cross, he does not surround himself with the devout or the dignified. He gathers, one last time, with his disciples — men who will, before morning, betray him, deny him, and run. He knew this. He knew all of it. And he stayed at the t...

 There is a truth that no one escapes: every person who has ever been born will one day die. And yet, tucked inside this story of grief and stone and a man wrapped in burial cloths, Jesus makes a breathtaking claim—that death is not the last word. This is what John 11:1–45 is really about. The one you love is sick. It is interesting to note that the word Bethany means place of poverty/poor; but in spite of it, this family often received Jesus and his disciple in their house, and provided for them; Jesus loved them too. Being in the love circle of Jesus does not give Lazarus any worldly advantage; rather it is a guarantee that you will experience humanity in its most brutal form. Lazarus died, in in his ripe old age, but when he was still young, fallen ill and is dead. Geethanjali , born in Bombay in 1961, who was loved developed blood cancer as a child. She died at sixteen years old. After she died, her family found poems she had written, hidden under her bed. The one she wrote ...

 The Parable of the Labourers in the Vineyard ( Matthew 20:1-16 ) is a story Jesus told to describe God's generosity. When the master had gone to the market in varied times of the day, 3rd hour, 6th hour, 9th hour, and even at the 11th hour, he was told that these workers were standing there because nobody hired them for work. What would we be if nobody puts us to use? There is a particular kind of pain that has no appropriate name, we could call it rejection. It is not the pain of being unworthy; but the pain of being exactly what you are ; fully, beautifully, completely, and still not being what someone needs. You were a rose. You were a perfect rose. And they were simply, quietly, a people who loved lilies. That is one of the loneliest feelings in the world. Because you cannot even be angry at anyone. When Vincent van Gogh was alive, he sold exactly one painting. One. He was not a bad painter, history has made that embarrassingly clear. He was, in fact, one of the most gif...

 In Matthew 25: 14-30 Jesus tells the parable of the talents ; three servants given different amounts by their master before he leaves on a journey. Two of them invest what they were given. They multiply it. They let it be fully what it was meant to be. The third is afraid. He buries his talent in the ground to keep it safe, to keep it from being too much , to manage the risk of it. When the master returns, this is the one who is condemned; not for wickedness, not for cruelty, but for smallness. For choosing safety over fullness. There is a kind of shrinking that happens slowly, so slowly you don't even notice it. Someone flinches at your depth, and you apologise. Someone can't keep up with your current, and you go still. Someone stands at your shore and says this is too much ; and you, out of love or guilt or the old fear of being too much, make yourself smaller. A pond. Calm. Manageable. Safe. But here is the truth no one says plainly enough: not everyone is meant to be a pu...