Monday, 5 October 2026

Tuesday, October 6, 2026 - Will you presume to tell God what to do or would you have God tell you what to do?


 

Tuesday, October 6, 2026 - Will you like Martha, presume to tell Jesus what he ought to do, or will you like Mary listen to what he would like you to do?

To read the texts click on the texts: Gal 1:13-24; Lk 10:38-42

This text, which speaks of the encounter of Martha and Mary with Jesus, takes the form of a pronouncement story (a story in which a saying of Jesus stands out and is the focus of the story). While the Gospel of Luke explicitly mentions women disciples of Jesus, here Mary is even sitting at the feet of Jesus and listening to his teaching, something unthinkable at the time of Jesus. By sitting at his feet, Mary is acting like a male, and in doing so neglects her duty of helping to prepare the meal. This action of Mary also results in bringing shame upon her house. Though justified Martha’s protest is put negatively by her. It is clear that her focus is not the Lord, but herself. She is concerned not with her service of the Lord, but the trouble that it is causing her because she is left alone to serve. The response of Jesus to Martha is the main point of the story and the pronouncement. The repetition of her name is a mild rebuke. Her “cares” have prevented her from unhindered devotion and attention to the Lord. Mary has chosen the one thing necessary and that is the Lord. Martha presumes to tell Jesus what he should do; Mary lets Jesus tell her what to do.

There are times when we do things not because we are convinced that they have to be done but because we want the approval of others or we want others to know how hard we are working. These are selfish acts and do not bring grace. The act that does bring grace is when we do what has to be done simply because it has to be done and expect nothing in return.

MEETING FRANCIS AGAIN, THROUGH CARLO CARRETTO

Around fifty years ago, during a period of searching for my own path forward, my sister Svetlana gave me a copy of Carlo Carretto’s Letters from the Desert. At that time, my reading list fluctuated between George Orwell, Somerset Maugham, and St. Thérèse of Lisieux, alongside books on law and finance. Yet, it was Carretto’s words that gripped me; I returned to that book more than twenty times, finding myself renewed and deeply moved with every reading.

This initial encounter sparked a lifelong devotion. I collected every book Carretto ever wrote and closely followed his community's footprint in India. Last year, that fifty-year journey came full circle. While visiting Assisi with Svetlana and her family, we transitioned from a meditative time with St. Francis to visit Carretto’s own final resting place in Spello, nestled in the Umbrian landscape. It was a deeply moving pilgrimage to the grave of a man who lived as a devoted follower of Francis, passing into eternity on the saint's feast day: October 4, 1988.

Why bring you to this intersection of my personal journey and these two spiritual giants?

As we celebrate the 800th anniversary of the enduring wonder named Francis of Assisi, I want to invite readers in India to engage with him in a contemporary mould. To do that, no one serves as a better bridge than the mystic Carlo Carretto. In his fictionalized autobiography I, Francis, Carretto boldly adopts the first-person voice of the saint, instantly dismantling the romanticized caricature of a man who merely talks to birds. He presents Francis not as a medieval curiosity, but as a disruptive, living prophet whose radical embrace of the Gospel serves as a direct indictment of modern greed, urban consumerism, and spiritual complacency.

I offer you these reflections and excerpts from this profound work, hoping it will prompt you to read the book itself and better relish the true spirit of Saint Francis.

The Interior Desert: Radical Poverty and Naked Faith

In the book, Carretto’s Francis insists that poverty was never a mere lifestyle choice or an exercise in philanthropy. As the saint reflects, "Poverty did not consist in helping the poor, it consisted in being poor." It was a necessary stripping away of the human ego to encounter God in absolute vulnerability. Carretto writes through the voice of Francis: "Poverty is not just a lack of things; it is a lack of self. It is the vacuum into which God can pour His love."

External lack is merely the beginning, for "true poverty went to the bottom of things, and touched the spirit." This perspective resonates deeply with the spiritual heritage of India, beautifully mirroring the ancient concept of aparigraha (non-possession) and the ascetic path of the sannyasi. Francis notes that "putting a little money aside, keeping a larder, buying a house" would have meant a devastating "lack of trust in my Lord." True spiritual wealth begins when physical ownership ends, shifting the soul from the "eros of easy things" to the profound "agape of heroes of the spirit."

Crucially, this path is not a platform for social activism or systemic restructuring. Francis clarifies that his "choice to be poor, then, was not a social or political choice, but a mystical one." He did not set out to organize a political pressure group or engage in standard class struggle. He recognized that while revolutions fight for the working classes, "nothing changed, because these people did not change hearts." For him, the Gospel was a call to look beyond temporal structures: "It is not enough to change laws. You have to change hearts."

For a reader navigating the hyper-materialistic, upwardly mobile realities of modern mega-cities like Mumbai or Bengaluru, Carretto’s Francis offers a sharp wake-up call to look past "a life of easy pleasure." He models a journey that transcends all human constructs, civilizations, and conventions, reminding us that true liberation is found not in what we accumulate, but in what we have the courage to discard.

The Armor of Peace: Non-Violence and Unarmed Love

Just as Francis’s radical poverty was a mystical surrender rather than a political statement, his response to a violent world bypassed the conventional logic of warfare and strategic defense. For a modern reader grappling with global strife or systemic conflict, Carretto’s Francis offers a timeless pattern of deep, active non-violence. He did not wage war for justice, even when the suffering of the poor seemed to demand it. Instead, he introduced a method of combating injustice that relied on entirely different weapons: humility, presence, and unarmed love.

By stepping out onto the open road without a script or a shield, Francis showed that the only way to break the cycle of human violence is to absorb it rather than reflect it back. In a world defined by division, his life remains a radical blueprint for peace built from the inside out.

Rebuilding from Within: A Quiet Meditation on a Broken, Beloved Church

For Carretto, this deep interior stripping this radical detachment from worldly constructs was never meant to drive the believer away from the community. It was designed to anchor them deeply within it, even when that community is terribly flawed. The absolute vulnerability born in the desert of poverty becomes the precise tool needed to face the institutional Church.

“Repair it.” When the Lord spoke these words to Francis from the crucifix at San Damiano, Francis first looked at the crumbling stone walls around him. It takes time for human hearts to understand the vastness of God’s designs. Francis soon realized the call wasn't just to rebuild a small, quiet refuge in the woods, but to steady a great Church stretching across the earth "the one founded by Jesus himself who at Saint Damian had spoken to me, telling me straight out, 'Repair it.'"

For more than two thousand years, the gates of hell have targeted the Church, yet they have not prevailed. Yet, anyone who deeply loves the Church today knows the heavy grief of looking at its wounds, power dynamics, and the heavy burden of "shameless wealth" and "involvement with power politics." And yet, like Francis, we are called to stay, to love, and to labor with an enduring, quiet hope.

Writing with the hindsight of eight centuries, Carretto’s Francis does not ignore the historical corruption or wealth of the ecclesiastical hierarchy. He addresses the reality of having "seen no poverty in the halls of the Vatican." Yet, instead of advocating for a schism or walking away in bitter anger, Francis models an agonizing, fierce loyalty. He recognizes a profound debt, asking us directly: "Who would have handed down to us, across twenty centuries, the teachings of our dear Lord Jesus? Who would have encouraged us in the truth, reassured us in the path we had undertaken?"

This is the great mystery we live with: the Church is simultaneously holy and broken, divine and deeply human "at once indefectible by divine promise, and capable of scandalizing... by its riches and its might." When confronted with the flaws of our spiritual home, it is incredibly easy to become bitter, sour, and judgmental, quick to point the accusing finger at the festering sores of others.

But Francis heard a softer voice whisper in his spirit: "Judge not... I have come not to judge but to save." He realized that if he wanted to have any right to speak, he must have compassion. If we wish to heal the Church today, we must begin where Francis began: not with criticism, but with compassion. We reform the body of Christ by allowing Him to reform us, becoming simple instruments of grace from the very inside of the home He built for us.

It is here, in this tension, that we find the most poignant prayer of the modern pilgrim, reflecting Carretto's own deep theological struggles as a monk addressing the Church directly:

"How much I must criticize you, my church, and yet how much I love you! You have caused me more suffering than anyone else, and yet I owe you more than anyone else. I should like to see you destroyed, and yet I need your presence. You have given me much scandal and yet you alone have made me understand holiness. ... In a word, I cannot live outside of you, because outside of you I would no longer have my Christ."

 

Dr. Fr. Conrad Pesso s.j.

 Director Xavier Institute of Communications

Chairman Xavier Institute of Management and Research

Sunday, 4 October 2026

Monday, October 5, 2026 - We often look at people with tainted glasses or a prejudiced vision. We tend to categorise them and place them in neat compartments based on their backgrounds. This attitude leads to stereotyping people and not being able to see them as they are.


 

Monday, October 5, 2026 - Is there a person/group that you have a prejudice against or whom you have stereotyped? Will you overcome that prejudice today?

To read the texts click on the texts: Gal 1:6-12; Lk 10:25-37

Our text for today contains the Parable of The Good Samaritan. This is a parable that is found only in the Gospel of Luke, and the context in Luke is the question that is asked by a lawyer regarding eternal life. In Matthew and Luke, the lawyer is hostile (not so in Mark), because the question is asked to “test” Jesus. While in Matthew (22,34-40) and Mark (12,28-31) the question is about the greatest commandment, and Jesus answers the question quoting from Deuteronomy and Leviticus, in Luke, Jesus asks the lawyer a counter question and gets him (the lawyer) to answer. Deuteronomy 6,4-9 (Love of God) was part of the “Shema” (the prayer to “Hear”), repeated twice each day, but it had not been linked to Leviticus 19,18 (Love of neighbour) as it is here. Since it is the lawyer who answers, Jesus responds with a commendation (“You have answered right; do this, and you will live.”) Since the lawyer was forced to answer and cede the upper hand, he does not give up, but asks a question over which there was some controversy – “Who is my neighbour?” In his response to this question, Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. This parable has often been interpreted as one in which Jesus is telling us that those in need are our neighbours, or that it has an anticlerical edge, in which Jesus is showing up the priestly class by mentioning priest and Levite as not reaching out to the one in need. If these were the meanings, then there would be no need to make the third person that passed by that way, a Samaritan. The third person could have been a lay Jew. The reason why the third person is a Samaritan is because Jesus wanted the lawyer who was a Jew, to go beyond the narrow definition of neighbour, to go beyond his prejudice, his bias, and his stereotyping. When Israel was split into kingdoms after the death of Solomon in around 922 BCE, the North (named Israel which had its capital at Samaria) and the South (Judah which had its capital as Jerusalem), it became the target for its neighbours, because its strength was divide. In 722 BCE, the Assyrians captured Israel and its capital Samaria and took as their wives and concubines’ Israeli women. The children by that union were known as Samaritans and till the time of Jesus were regarded as inferior and outcasts by their former Jewish brothers (and sisters). Jesus is thus asking the Jew (the lawyer) if he can get rid of his negative way of looking at the Samaritan, and regard him also as neighbour. It is interesting that at the end of the parable, Jesus overturns the lawyer’s question. Jesus asks, “Who was neighbour to the one who fell among robbers?” whereas the lawyers question was “Who is my neighbour?” The Samaritan is indeed, neighbour.

We often look at people with tainted glasses or a prejudiced vision. We tend to categorise them and place them in neat compartments based on their backgrounds. This attitude leads to stereotyping people and not being able to see them as they are. Albert Einstein said this about a prejudice, “It is easier to disintegrate an atom than a prejudice”.

Saturday, 3 October 2026

Sunday, October 4, 2026 - We are tenants and not owners of this wordl. We mus act like tenants.


 

Sunday, October 4, 2026 - We are tenants, not owners

To read the texts click on the texts: Isa 5:1-7; Phil 4:6-9; Mt. 21:33-43

A parishioner once narrated to me his experience. Because he was unmarried and was working abroad and his brother was married and had five children, he had rented his two-bedroom apartment to his brother on the condition that his brother would leave the apartment when he was asked to do so. As his brother agreed to this condition, he allowed him to stay in the apartment free of cost, because he did not want to burden his brother by charging him rent. A time came when he found the girl he wanted to marry and since he would need his apartment, gently reminded his brother of their agreement and gave him a year’s time to find alternate accommodation. He even offered to help his brother financially. However, his brother refused to move, claiming that since he had stayed in that apartment for more than five years it belonged to him. The case is now in court.

The history of the human race is a history that alternates between failure and ingratitude on the part of human beings and fidelity and reaching out to them on the part of God. The first reading of today from Isaiah reminds us once again of the manner in which God continues to reach out in love. ‘The vineyard’ has often been used in the scriptures as symbol for the nation of Israel but could also be a symbol for the world. This vineyard God planted and nurtured hoping that it would produce the fruits that it should, instead produced wild grapes. When God ought to have found righteousness, he encountered bloodshed, and when he ought to have found justice, he heard the cries of the poor to whom injustice had been done. This is the work of a selfish few and hence the consequences of their selfish actions would be their own destruction.

These few who are selfish and self-centered are also mentioned in the Gospel reading in what is referred to as the parable of the rented vineyard, the murderous tenants and also the wicked husbandmen or vinedressers.

The parable is directed to the chief priests and elders of the people. The introduction echoes Isaiah 5:2 and uses the same words as there. However, here the vineyard is let out to tenant farmers by the landlord who goes away on a journey. This renting out of the vineyard serves to bring out on the one hand the idea that it is given in trust and not ownership, it is given on rent and not for personal possession and on the other hand to indict those to whom it had been rented out at the end of the parable. The repeated sending of the servants by the owner to collect the produce of the vineyard brings out the patience and perseverance of the owner of the vineyard. Despite his servants being treated shamefully and even killed, the owner does not give up, trying to get the tenants to come to their senses and realize their position with regard to the vineyard and him. The fact that he is serious about reaching out to the tenants is made abundantly clear in the sending of his son. However, greed on the part of the tenants led to their killing even the son.

In Isaiah, the consequences of unfaithfulness are the total destruction of the vineyard. In Matthew the tenants are destroyed and the vineyard is taken away to be given to others who will understand their role and do what they are called to do.

It is possible to understand the parable as addressed to the Jewish leaders of the time of Matthew and be content with that interpretation, but it is also possible to widen the vineyard to include the whole world and the tenants to mean each of us. When seen in this manner the world becomes the responsibility of each one of us and we realize that all that we have is given to us in trust. We are not owners of all that we think we possess, but have it in order to use it for the benefit of others and ourselves. Thus, selfishness and self-centeredness and the desire to accumulate more and more are the totally opposite attitudes of what which is expected of us as tenants.

This also means that since the world is given to us in trust, each one of us is responsible for looking after it. Hence environmental pollution of any kind, waste, destruction of nature, the so-called ‘development at any cost’ are all sins that we as tenants can be guilty of. The growing disparity between the rich and the poor, the destruction of forests, rivers and seas, global warming and the like, show that we, as tenants, have not given to the owner of the vineyard the fruits that we were expected to give. Our desire to own the vineyard as our inheritance has led to this state.

The Lord continues to send messages and messengers to us in the hope that we will come to our senses and behave as we ought to. One such message is found in the second reading of today in which Paul reminds the Philippians and is that we can only find peace and harmony when we acknowledge our dependence on God, and consequently our role as tenants and caretakers of his vineyard, our world. If we build up – and not destroy, if we reach out in love and concern for others – not live for our selves, if we are generous – not miserly, then we will have heeded the voice of the owner of the vineyard and will be able to give him his due when it is demanded of us.

Friday, 2 October 2026

Saturday, October 3, 2026 - The results of our actions ought not to concern us as much as doing the action to the best of our ability.


 

Saturday, October 3, 2026 - Have you seen and experienced the Lord? How does this show in your life?

To read the texts click on the texts: Job 42:1-3,5-6,12-17; Lk 10:17-24

Since neither Matthew nor Mark narrates the sending of the seventy-two (10:1-12), they do not have these verses (10:17-24), which narrate the return of the seventy-two from Mission. When the disciples who were filled with joy on their return report to Jesus that even the demons submit to his name, the response of Jesus is to see the fall of Satan and of his power, and to thank the Father for his graciousness.

Since the disciples here confirm that the demons are cast out in the name of Jesus, it follows that Satan’s rule is indeed coming to an end with the coming of Jesus and the giving of his authority to his disciples. However, as far as the disciples are concerned what is more important that Satan submitting to them is the fact that their names are now recorded in the book of life.

The thanksgiving to the Father is found also in Matthew 11:25-27 and is because God has favoured not the wise and intelligent but the unlearned and revealed to them the mysteries of the kingdom.

The last two verses in which Jesus speaks of the blessedness of the disciples (10:23-24) are found also in Matthew 16:16-17. The disciples are indeed in a privileged position because they have been able to see and experience what prophets and kings have not been privileged to see, namely the mighty works of Jesus, which resulted in the fall of Satan and his kingdom.

The results of our actions ought not to concern us as much as doing the action to the best of our ability. If we are clear that it is God’s kingdom that we are called to work towards and that he is the one who is finally in control, we will be able to focus on what we have to do and not bother about what will happen later.