As I write, I am stifling a yawn after arriving back from our Holy Land Pilgrimage at 2.00am last night – or rather 2.00am this morning!

It was a tired but happy group that emerged from the coach after our rapid journey down the M4 from Heathrow. Already I know that many of the pilgrims have been sharing their experiences during these nine days journeying together in the footsteps of Jesus. From the first visit of our beautiful time together – to Bethlehem – to our last shared meal – at Jaffa, we spent such quality time together with one another and with Our Lord.

For me, a veteran of now five pilgrimages to the Holy Land, stand-out moments were some of the Masses, especially those we celebrated outdoors – in the Franciscan garden at Jericho, on top of Mount Tabor in the ruins of a Byzantine church, at Mensa Christi, a particular favourite with our group, where Peter and the Apostles were treated to breakfast on the beach with Jesus, and on the Mount of Beatitudes, where the Lord preached his immortal Sermon on the Mount.

Along with these shared celebrations, I also treasure those more private ones with individual pilgrims as they shared with me their impressions and reflections, whether a brief word as we walked along, or a more lengthy chat, together trying to understand what the Lord had been saying to them in their heart. I find that there is nowhere like the Holy Land for making us receptive to God’s Word, or, as I put it from time to time during this year’s pilgrimage, listening to His voice.

But, of course, all can – and should – be doing that all of the time. We should all be listening as he speaks to us through Scripture, the Church, one another, especially the poor or suffering, and deep down in our hearts.

It’s just so much easier when you are sitting down gazing out over the Sea of Galilee, exactly as He did with his companions so long ago…

Fr Matthew 

Just after this Easter, I visited my family for a couple of days. There were few reasons behind that. It was the school vacation time, a time of electing political leaders and our religious superiors, a good time for variety of fruits, the weather was fine and above all my parents wished to see me. While spending the days with my family, we planned to visit the tomb of St. Alphonsa which is only seven miles away from my home. St. Alphonsa is the first native woman saint of India in the state of Kerala. She is now known all over the world. Thousands of people from all walks of life irrespective of caste, creed, religion or country flow to the tomb of the saint to pray for their various needs and to pay homage and gratitude for the innumerable favours they received.

As all spiritual roads are heading towards Bharananganam where St. Alphonsa’s tomb is today, it is worth recalling the words of St. Alphonsa’s spiritual father Romulus of happy memory at her funeral ceremony, “With the most profound conviction in my heart and as one who has known this Religious person very intimately, I affirm that we are now participating in the last rites of a saintly person. If the world had realized her intrinsic worth, unprecedented crowds including hundreds of priests and bishops from all over India would have assembled here…”. I assure you that as far as human judgment can be relied upon, this young nun was not much less saintly than the Little Flower of Lisieux……

Bharananganam where her mortal remains will be interred is hallowed. If it is God’s Holy Will, this place will become the Lisieux of India. “Yes, the words of that great visionary were true.

St. Alphonsa died at the age of 36, after a prolonged illness on July 28, 1946. Pope Benedict XVI declared her saint on 12 October 2008. In the homily, he recalled Saint Alphonsa’s life as one of “extreme physical and spiritual suffering.”

Let us invoke the blessing and intersession of the saint of this century, St. Alphonsa, to be faithful to the values of Christ as St. Alphonsa lived.

Fr Tomy