By Lissy Maruthanakuzhy

Panaji: On August 4, the Church celebrated the feast of the patron of parish priests — St John Vianney, generally called as Cure of Ars.

It is celebrated as Pastor’s Day as the saint transformed the life of a pastor in the humble lifestyle he observed. With his life of penance and prayer, he was able to revive the faith of his parishioners at Ars, who had otherwise had fallen into a comfortable life away from faith. He spent hours at the confessional. His work as a confessor is John Vianney’s most remarkable accomplishment.

It has been noted that the winter months he would spend 11 to 12 hours daily reconciling people with God. In the summer months this time was increased to 16 hours. Only a dedicated priest could endure such giving of self, day after day.

It is said that on the day he arrived at the village a teenager volunteered to show him the route to the parish and Vianney told him, “You have shown me the way to Ars, and I will show you the way to heaven.”

That is what he did.

He used images from everyday life, from the country side and working lives of the people to help the parishioners back to the church and to faith.

He would say, “We must be like shepherds in the fields during the winter. They have a fire, but from time to time the search about for sticks to keep it alive. If we knew how to keep up the fire of the love of God in our hearts, by prayers and good works, it would not go out.”

He was available for his parishioners when they looked for him. His poor intellectual capacity that once made the authorities doubt his vocation to priesthood did not matter to his village parishioners. They could sense in him a man of God. A pastor who lived for his sheep. A pastor who had the smell of his “sheep”.

The feast of St John Vianney took me back on memory lanes to two experiences of Pastors: One a Parish Priest and the other a Religious, a retreat guide and counselor.

The priest in our village parish was a young vibrant pastor who taught us, catechism children, new songs composed by him. He was a musician and a singer. I still remember the song he taught us on “Sacred Heart of Jesus.” At the age of seventeen I left my parish and village to join a missionary congregation, with the blessings of this vibrant pastor.

For many years, there was no communication with him. During my home vacation once, I visited a community of Religious in my neighborhood, who also ran a home for the aged. While speaking to sisters one of them said to my amazement, “We have a chaplain now. He is Fr Nellikkattil.” He was living a retired life now.

I was overjoyed. Quickly, with my sister, who accompanied me, I went to his residence. As he opened the door he called me by name. It was unbelievable. After 30 years he could still remember me. What a big heart this pastor had, to carry all the memories of his “Sheep”!

The next incident occurred during one of my annual spiritual exercises. It was a guided retreat and I was staying away from my community. On the second of the retreat, in the middle of the night I woke up with severe pain and discomfort. Could not sit or lie down. I was puzzled as to whom to inform. My community was far away. The retreat master was new to me. He too stayed in another building. Since I could not bear the situation anymore, I decided to disturb the retreat director. I was not sure what answer I would get from him. I took the risk and called. He said he would alert one of the priests in the same house where I stayed. I waited ready to go to the nearest hospital with his help.

Sometime later I heard a knock on the door and opened the door to see the retreat director and the director of the house. As we were walking down the steps, the director mentioned about a guest doctor in the same house, staying just opposite to my room.

The lady doctor happened to be an Indian from USA. Hence, she was awake at midnight engaged in some work with her son in USA. Her response too was quick. Immediately she prescribed the medicine, and also gave me tablets for immediate relief, so that I would be able to sleep.

Next morning the retreat master was at my door with the prescribed medicine, declining to accept the payment.

I still admire his patience, and availability. On subsequent contacts I recognized him as a person of “rare quality” reaching out to people and helping them heal of many chronic illnesses along with spiritual guidance.

There are pastors among us, available to their “flock of sheep” whenever they require him for their spiritual welfare.

I affirm the message of St John Vianney for everyone, “We must be like shepherds in the fields during the winter. They have a fire, but from time to time they search about for sticks to keep it alive. If we knew how to keep up the fire of the love of God in our hearts, by prayers and good works, it would not go out.”

The fire of God’s love will warm up many lives.

May their tribe increase and multiply.