13 minute read
Caring for the Least Among Us: New Challenges in India
by CNEWA
spiritual life, we cannot bring a sense of hope or the comfort of Christ to others. For this reason, our timetable includes moments for silence and solitude intended to encourage seminarians to reflect upon and learn to embrace this call. The seminarians are directed also to “set out” and preach the Gospel. They are encouraged to spend their free time, especially on Sundays, collaborating in parishes, teaching catechism and giving instruction to young people. They are requested to participate ardently in various services in their own communities, especially during the summer break and on solemn feasts, such as Christmas and Easter. Each Friday, they teach catechism in local parishes and organize youth activities and spiritual gatherings. Some of our seminarians assist members of displaced communities that have been affected by ISIS.
We try to nurture in each student the compassion of a good shepherd. This is the ability to assume a conscientious and mature responsibility for the care of souls. This also requires an interior strength and perception that will allow him to evaluate pastoral difficulties and to establish the priorities in his mission.
To be blunt: The reality of priesthood in a country racked by persecution may result in martyrdom. We prepare the seminarians for this possibility through the real-life experiences of our very own priests who have died at the hands of terrorists — Archbishop Paulos Faraj Rahho of Mosul and Father Ragheed Ghanni — and others. Both Archbishop Rahho and Father Ghanni were students at our seminary.
The situation is still difficult. We remind our seminarians always that being Christian in Iraq means to be ready always to face martyrdom. For this reason, our church is called “the church of martyrs.” Our young people are not afraid. But their families are, fearing their children could be killed if they become priests.
Archbishop Paulos Faraj Rahho, martyred in 2008, ordains Father Dinkha at St. Adday Parish in Karmlesh, Iraq. Opposite, seminarians prepare to receive the ministry of acolyte in the seminary chapel in 2017.
Due to the lack of security, political instability, extremism and violence that increased substantially after 2014, we have been suffering from another dangerous phenomenon as well — “the migration” — that is, the displacement and departure of hundreds of thousands of Iraq’s Christians. For this reason, we look forward to Pope Francis’ visit to our country at the beginning of March as one of comfort and hope. Our hope is that his visit will promote respect for human rights, peace and fraternity, while advocating for an end to war and violence.
Priests in Iraq are required to challenge all aspects of life. We are priests, but also soldiers, guardians, teachers, comforters, counselors, providers and much more. I remember when ISIS invaded our lands: The people sought refuge in the churches and we were responsible for the safety of our communities. In a land devastated by war and filled with grief, trust is the only thing that keeps our community strong.
I always recall the day of my priestly ordination by the hand of the late Archbishop Rahho, which took place one month after the martyrdom of Father Ghanni.
On that occasion, my bishop said: “We have just lost a priest. Today, we have found another.”
I heed those words in order to take courage and remain always optimistic. It is why I repeat the words of St. John Paul II to future priests under my care: “Do not be afraid!”
Priesthood, in union with our own experience, is lived according to the will of God as an imitation of our personal Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. It is a sign of hope for our church to be active during the darkest times. Our seminary is proud of keeping the light of hope lit for our local and universal church. n
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A10-year-old girl sits at her desk, concentrating hard on the page of the book that she has open. She is wearing a red silk dress, bangles, a bit of eyeliner and kohl on her eyelids, having been initiated recently into the joys of makeup, as with most girls her age. She looks up and smiles. Then she gets up to walk away. Meet Anupriya Rajesh Kumar.
Anupriya lives at Home of Faith, a home for boys and girls with physical challenges. Located in Kakkanad, a suburb of the city of Kochi, it is an area known as the Silicon Valley of the southwestern Indian state of Kerala as it is a hub of IT companies and call centers.
Anupriya is the younger of two sisters. Her mother is speech- and hearing-challenged. When she was pregnant with Anupriya, her husband was abusive and would kick her in the stomach. The child was born with physical irregularities in her hands, arms and feet that doctors said were brought about by the abuse her mother had suffered. After the child was born, he abandoned his wife and daughters and went off to live in another city. He does not have contact with them anymore.
Anupriya has been at Home of Faith for four years. The home is administered by the Preshitharam Sisters, a religious community of the Syro-Malabar Church, whose charism is “to serve the poor in Christ.”
The activities of the Preshitharam Sisters include going on family visits, teaching catechism, administrating residences for seniors and orphans, caring for people with physical and intellectual challenges, and educating the poor in the remotest parts of India. The sisters are mainly based in Kerala, but they have houses in Austria, Germany and Italy, too.
“There are 10 sisters here who help look after the children,” says Sister Dennis, who directs the Home of Faith. “We house 17 to 20 children usually, but quite a few of them are back with their families because of COVID.”
Sister Dennis entered religious life 34 years ago. It was her calling.
“Some of my cousins are sisters; I went to a Christian school. I always felt this life was for me,” she says. “I don’t think I could have done anything else with my life.”
Home of Faith usually takes children ages 5 to 17. They come from different parts of Kerala and belong to different faith communities.
“We don’t just admit children from Christian families. There are Hindu and Muslim children here, too. Most of them are from very poor families and their parents can’t afford to take care of them,” Sister Dennis says.
Sebin Jose is 10 years old. He has a big smile and bright eyes. Sebin’s father works on a spices and coffee plantation in the high ranges of Pandupara. He has been at Home of Faith for four years. Sebin was born with a spinal defect and as a result is severely physically and intellectually challenged. He had surgery when younger to try to ease his condition, but it was to no avail. Doctors have told his family he will spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair.
“When you see such suffering, especially in children, it breaks your heart,” Sister Dennis says. “But you realize that Jesus is showing you the way. No matter how difficult the road ahead, his hand always leads you on the right path.”
Sister Dennis says without Jesus in her life, she would be lost.
“Jesus is my friend, my guide. The Son of God is always there to help us, forgive us and give us everlasting life,” she says. “He has chosen this life of service for me and I count on him to be there for me.”
Home of Faith was founded in 1989. Since then, at least 200 children have benefited from its care. Lijo Joseph came to the home in its inaugural year. She cannot walk and is paralyzed from the waist down. When her mother passed away, she asked to remain at the Home of Faith.
“I had nowhere to go. My family was just me and my mother,” Lijo says.
The home also offers lessons in tailoring, where its female residents are trained in sewing, stitching and embroidery to help them earn a living. Members of the public can also benefit for a small tuition fee.
“I asked the sisters if I could stay and work at the center. They agreed and I haven’t left,” Lijo says. She is now a tailoring instructor and has taught hundreds of girls and women since it opened in 2012.
Other than tailoring, all residents at the home go to a governmentrun school for children with special needs.
“Education is important,” Sister Dennis says. “It gives [the children] routine and discipline. Some of the sisters accompany them to school.”
Routine is important for the Johny sisters, Johncy, 14, and Josmi, 9. Both girls are physically and intellectually challenged. Their mother is a daily wage worker and cannot afford to support her two children.
“Johncy and Josmi rely on us for everything,” Sister Dennis says. “Their education, boarding, singing and dancing classes, medication, food — we take care of everything. If it wasn’t for a place like this home,
Residents of Sneha Sadan gather for a photo around the home’s superior, Sister Stella Maria, who stands behind Parvathy Babu, seated in a wheelchair.
they wouldn’t have anywhere else to go. That’s the sad state of affairs.”
Sona Sunny wants to be a model. She is 14, bubbly, bright and kind. She loves singing and dancing. But Sona was diagnosed with a heart problem when a baby. One minute she is active, and the next, she faints. Sona had attended a public school in the community, but she “had difficulty settling in,” says Sister Dennis.
“The teachers didn’t know what to do when she fainted, sometimes many times a day,” she adds. Sona is being treated for her heart condition at a hospital nearby. Home of Faith helps pay her medical bills. Sona’s father is a farmer in the nearby town of Thodupuzzha.
“His resources are limited,” Sister Dennis explains. “He has two other children to take care of.”
Home of Faith is funded by the Catholic Near East Welfare Association (CNEWA) and other private donors. This aid gives children and young people, who do not have much, something to look forward to, young people such as 18-year-old Dev Sunil.
Dev is unable to use his legs. Up until two years ago, Dev lived at home with his parents. His father is an auto rickshaw driver, who leaves home early and gets back late. His mother is home, and cares for the other children.
“Dev had nothing to do at home. His siblings would go to school, father to work and mother had so much to do around the house,” Sister Dennis says. “He was frustrated being at home. Here, he has made friends. He loves music and watching films and is happier now.” T he pandemic has made things difficult. In these times, donations are few and far between.
“We’ve been struggling,” Sister Dennis says. “Usually, people donate money or send over food for the children when they have a baptism or wedding over at the church. But, because of COVID, people haven’t been organizing events or gatherings.”
An official report in 2018 counted more than 9,000 child care homes in India. Of these, 91 percent are run by nongovernmental organizations (N.G.O.’s); only 9 percent are government-run. Many are operated by Christian communities.
Since the multi-step process of receiving funding from the Indian government can be tenuous and tedious, most of these organizations operate with foreign funds. However, their work has come under increased pressure in recent years, as the Indian government has sought to regulate foreign funding entering the country.
In 2010, the Indian government passed the Foreign Contribution Regulation Act (F.C.R.A.), which regulates how N.G.O.’s, trusts, societies, charitable institutions and nonprofits can receive foreign funding, including dollars from U.S.-based foundations and corporations. The Indian government amended the law in September 2020, making it even more difficult for some N.G.O.’s, depending on their method of operation, to receive foreign funds.
The government says the amendments were necessary to avoid the foreign funding of political activities that could destabilize the country. But critics say placing
At the Home of Faith, Sebin Jose (at left) is assisted by one of the sisters who run the home. At right, Lijo Joseph (seated) is an instructor at the home’s tailoring workshop.
every organization under an umbrella of suspicion puts wellmeaning groups and associations on the back foot and could force them to close, simply because of the complexity of the new rules.
The amendments make it mandatory now for all nonprofits to register under the act in order to receive foreign funds. Registration is valid for five years and is only renewable if the organizations comply with all the government regulations, which include having an account with an Indian bank and filing tax returns annually.
The new rules require foreign funds to go directly to a beneficiary, rather than to a sub-granting agency that works to submit grant applications and manage the funds on a beneficiary’s behalf or through the Indian office of an international organization.
“Many of the social service institutions of the Catholic churches working in India do not have the capacity to raise money or write financial or programmatic reports,” says M.L. Thomas, who directs CNEWA’s activities in India. “They do the real work on the ground,” he says, adding that a number of these initiatives rely on CNEWA to take care of these matters.
Mr. Thomas says the amendments target the poor — who are already “struggling to find their livelihood” — more than any other segment of the Indian population.
“For the poor in India, the small contributions that were donated by common people in foreign countries were used to help in the basic education, higher education and job-oriented training for the poor, the Dalits, and the slum children, and to provide daily living needs,” he continues. “The new F.C.R.A. rules have imposed at least a long halt and a break in these activities, if not fully blocked them. This is like burning the house to smoke out the rat.”
Despite the challenges of the new law, CNEWA’s president Msgr. Peter I. Vaccari has expressed CNEWA’s enduring commitment to the work of the churches in India.
“We are adjusting our program in India to abide by Indian law,” he says, but emphasizes that CNEWA remains “steadfast in its dedication to the process to continue its work on behalf of the marginalized, the seminaries and houses of formation, and all our activities in India.”
Mr. Thomas adds that the new rules will inevitably impact the Indian economy in the long run. “Many international agencies will withdraw their support because of the stringent regulations,” he predicts.
Mr. Thomas underlines that the Syro-Malabar and Syro-Malankara Catholic churches, through their social service organizations, have for generations been at the forefront of aid, during and after the country’s numerous natural calamities, and of much-needed care for the poorest and most marginalized of populations.
Elsie Jose sits at a table talking to Sister Stella Maria at Sneha Sadan in Kizhakkambalam, a small town about 30 miles from
The CNEWA Connection
Combatting fear of the other — particularly the Untouchables, India’s poorest peoples, as well as the sick, the lame and the diseased — is a hallmark of the works of India’s dynamic SyroMalabar and Syro-Malankara Catholic churches. Whether taking on the challenges of leprosy, abject poverty, illiteracy, alcoholism, H.I.V. and AIDS, or special needs, as illustrated in this article, the men and women who proudly consider themselves the heirs of St. Thomas the Apostle have helped transform the subcontinent into a modern state.
Since its earliest years, CNEWA has partnered with these witnesses of the Gospel as they tend to the lowliest, regardless of religious, ethnic or national identity. This is what Christians are called to do out of love for their neighbor.
