Before you were born,
I consecrated you and set you apart...
(Many OLMC parishioners will remember Fr. Maria Joseph Savariappan, S.J., who celebrated Mass for us during Fr. Pat's vacation in 2017. The story of Fr. Maria Joseph's vocation to the priesthood is intimately connected to the readings we hear at this weekend's masses, and he has graciously accepted to share it with us. We hope you will take the time to read it and meditate on it, and perhaps also ask what God might be calling you to in your life. Fr. Maria Joseph is currently doing his Tertianship in southern India. Please pray for him during his 30-day silent retreat, which begins this Monday.)
I was raised in a large family in the Southern
part of India in the small farming village of Rayapuram, Tamil Nadu. I am the
eighth child born to Mr. Savariappan and Mrs. Viyagulamary. I was born on May 13, 1977 and was named
Maria Joseph because May 13 was the day when Mother Mary appeared to the three
children in Fatima.
My mother miraculously gave birth to 16
children, 10 of whom were twins. Unfortunately,
seven had come and gone before I was born, May God grant them eternal
rest.
My parents were simple farmers. Since economically they were at a
disadvantage, they could not educate my elder siblings. As a result, they had to work in the fields,
tilling the earth. At a young age, I did
not understand their economic position and insisted that I be admitted to a
boarding school, which was obviously beyond their means. I threatened to end my life if they did not grant
my wish and understanding my insistent and adamant character, my father sold a
goat that he was rearing, which allowed me to attend St. Joseph’s High School
in Tamil Nadu at age 13 (ninth grade). I
did well in school, however, from time to time my father could not pay the
monthly boarding fees, so I was made to stand outside the boarding building
until the fees were paid.
My father was the caretaker of our village
church where we had our monthly Eucharistic celebrations once a month. My father would arrange for the mass on
Saturday if the priest was coming the next day. One year, when I was home from
school on a home holiday, my father had to work in the fields, and it was that
week that we were to have the Eucharist.
So, my mother asked me to clean the Church and prepare the altar for
mass the next day.
Part of the cleaning regime was to
clean the stands where the statues stood. I took the statues down, one by one, and put
them on the floor, one of which was an expensive Mother Mary statue. While I was cleaning, the Mother Mary statue
fell on its own. As soon as I heard the
noise, I rushed over and tried to lift it, but to my surprise it had been
broken into pieces. Out of complete fear
and disbelief, I started to shiver and tremble.
I knew that Mother Mary was truly revered by the people of the village
and I would be accused of breaking it.
One of the customs of the Village was
that if anyone committed a wrong, they would be brought in front of the elders
and, if found guilty, would be imposed a heavy fine. I sensed that I was going to be blamed and
knew that my father was not in the position to pay the fine. All these things weighed heavily on me.
With a heavy heart and filled with a
lot of anxiety, I went home to tell my mother what happened to Mother Mary’s
statue. She believed me and gently said,
Son, don’t worry, we will see to it
tomorrow.
The next day, Sunday, the priest came
and celebrated the Holy Eucharist. After
mass, everybody was looking for Mother Mary’s statue, especially the women,
since the custom was to touch her feet and receive her blessings. When they couldn’t find Her, they gathered
the elders for answers. Since my father was the caretaker, he was called in and
questioned. He told them that while his son
was cleaning, the statue was broken. Not
satisfied, they called me in and demanded an explanation for breaking the
statue. Being only 13 years old, I was
filled with so much fear and jitters as I stood in front of a large crowd. But, as I stood there, something pushed me
from within to narrate the story, which I did, and told them exactly how it
happened, concluded that I did not break it, and the statue broke by
itself. As you could guess, everyone was
furious with my unbelievable story and started to shout at me, but I kept
insisting that I did not break it. With
the commotion getting out of control, my father knelt and took the blame
pleading for a lesser punishment. But my
many attempts to refute their decision didn’t do any good and in accepting the responsibility
for the broken Mother Mary statue, the elders fined my father a great sum, ordering
him to pay it right away. After pleading
earnestly, they eventually allowed him to pay the fine in installments. The fine coupled with my tuition fees was now
an added burden.
Some of the women who observed the
entire incident started to talk among themselves. They were saying that children don’t normally
lie and, if they do, they cannot sustain it.
They went on to say that I was so forthright and in control when
speaking in front of the elders. The
next day, a few of them came and asked me to please tell them the truth. If I broke it, let them know and they would
not tell anybody. Again, I reiterated
very clearly that I did not break it.
Contemplating this for a while, they asked me if I would go to a person
who claimed to pray over people to tell the truth. I told them that I was not afraid and would
go anywhere and to anybody regarding this unfortunate incident.
The following day, a few of the women
from the village took me to the woman who prayed over people about the
truth. After I sat down, she asked me a
few questions: my name, where I studied, etc.
She then handed me the Holy Bible in Tamil, which is my mother tongue.
She asked me to read Lk 4:18 – 19. The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because
he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim
release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the
oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor. While I was reading, she started to speak in
a strange language that I did not understand.
I looked at her and said in a loud voice, I do not know what you are saying; if you know the truth, please tell
these people and let me go in peace.
She looked at me intently for some time and then looked at the women as
she told them the entire incident as it happened without leaving out one
detail. She continued by saying that I
did not break the statue, but that Mother Mary was looking for an opportunity
to communicate her displeasure regarding the behavior of the people in the
village. She concluded by telling the
women that this boy was chosen to communicate this message to you and that you
all should repent and leave your sinful ways of living and follow her Son,
Jesus Christ.
The message spread like wild fire. Despite all, my father still had to pay the
full amount.
I returned to St. Joseph’s High and
advanced to grade 10, but the incident was always there. I started to ask myself, If Mother Mary chose me to be her messenger to the people in my
childhood village, why wouldn’t I continue to be one until the end of my life? The feeling grew so intense that I decided
to join the Jesuits at the age of 15 as a prospective candidate.
The beginning of my Seminary training
began when I was seventeen. I went from
Tamil Nadu to West Bengal (about 1600 kilometers or 995 miles from my home
town) where Kolkata is the Capital City of the State. West Bengal was like travelling to another
country since I was not of that culture, their language, or their people. By the grace of God and through His guidance, in
a short period of time, I was able to learn and embrace it quickly.
After an intense training for three
years, with a grateful heart, I pronounced my first vows in the Society of
Jesus in 1996.
It had been three years since I went
home. My parents were so happy, and
their affections confirmed it. My siblings greeted me with admiration and a respect
that you give a great person. For me, it
was different, yet a content feeling.
During my many subsequent visits, when I was alone with my mother, she
would look at me and shed tears. When I
would ask her why she was crying, she would remain silent. I thought, mothers are like this and it did
not bother me then.
I was ordained a Deacon in February 2008. With heartfelt joy, I came home to make the
necessary arrangements for my Ordination on October 11, 2008. While there, I worked on the Invitations and
book markers for those who would be attending my Ordination. On the book marker I had printed: Before
you were born, I consecrated you and set you apart (Jer: 1:5; Gal 1:15). One evening while alone in my room, my mother
came in, fell prostrate and sobbed heavily, confessing that she had tried to
abort me. This admission shattered me on one level, but at the same time, will
always remain as a God experience. (Please know, that my mother gave me
permission to tell what she confessed).
She tried three times, so by all means
she wanted to abort me, but was unsuccessful. She must have understood that she was fighting
with God. She said that I was the eighth
child and it was too difficult for her to have me. While she was admitting what she did to me
while I was in her womb my tears flowed
like a river, and it was difficult to accept, at that moment, that I was an
unwanted child. But, never ever did my
parents make me feel that I was an unwanted child growing up as evidenced by their
love. After I collected myself, I lifted
by mom from the floor, who had been weeping at my feet, and held her
tight. We both cried for a long time and
then I said, Mom, please do not feel
guilty for if I had been in your place, I would have done the same thing. But, you understood the divine intervention
and brought me into this world. Look, I
am going to be a priest; cheer up and be
proud!
Then, I showed her the book marker written
in English and read to her what I printed: Before
you were born, I consecrated and set you apart. How did I choose it? You know it now.
This was the greatest confirmation that
God had truly called me to serve Him to the best of my ability. Again, the passage the woman asked me to read
was the mission that God has already given to me. Was it a coincidence????
Friends, this is how I am a priest of
God today.
--
Fr. Maria Joseph Savariappan SJ
Image source 2: https://www.facebook.com/mountcarmelmv/photos/a.145426638852100.28960.135832183144879/1524578737603543/?type=3&theater
Wow! ಠ_ಠ
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