Reflection for 27th Sunday of Year


My dear Friends:

How wonderful to be with you all again! The break was exactly what I needed! I guess rolling from the replacement of the church’s roof into Lockdown, Covid19, online ministry, reopening the church etc., took its toll. I spent the first nine days sleeping. Thank God, I am now feeling both renewed and restored. Thank you for your prayers and support.

I should like to say a very special thank you to Fr. Shaun for celebrating the Eucharist while I was away. His ministry has been greatly appreciated. I have had great feedback from many people, including my family, who found his celebration of the Eucharist and his homilies inspiring and extremely helpful. Shaun, thank you!

This Sunday’s Gospel ends with quite a challenge:

    Jesus said to them, "Did you never read in the Scriptures:

    The stone that the builders rejected

    has become the cornerstone;

    by the Lord has this been done,

    and it is wonderful in our eyes?

    Therefore, I say to you,

    the kingdom of God will be taken away from you

    and given to a people that will produce its fruit."

The message of today’s gospel is not just an historical message aimed at a religious group which lived a few thousand years ago. The same message is addressed to us in the here and now. It is asking the questions: in my daily life, what am I producing?

Flowing from the reservoir of the loving and compassionate God who dwells within me, (i) do my words illumine with hope and healing the darkness and brokenness of those around me?; (ii) do my actions lovingly embrace those who feel wounded and marginalised within church and community? What were the first words which left my lips this morning? At the end of my day, did my words and actions inspire others with self-appreciation, self-confidence, hope and well-

being? Did they heal the emotionally wounded or depressed? Today’s gospel asks us, as tenants of God’s vineyard, what seeds are we planting, because these same seeds will be the fruit we shall reap.

Remember me as loving you,

Fr. Antony