Mary Mount Alumina’s Homily by Fr James Raj
Dear friends,
There is a beautiful little story from the Indian spiritual tradition.
High in the mountains, there was a little river.
Its water came from the melting snow. It was clear, fresh and pure. The river loved the mountain because everything it had came from there.
One day, the mountain said to the river: “Go.”
The little river was surprised.
“Go? Why should I go? This is my home. Everything I have received came from you. I want to remain here.”
And the mountain replied: “If you truly value what you have received from me, you must carry it somewhere I cannot go.”
So the river began its journey.
Down the mountain.
Through forests.
Through villages.
Across dry land.
And wherever the river went, something happened.
Trees grew.
Fields became green.
People drank.
Children played.
Life appeared.
Only much later did the river understand:
The mountain had not sent it away.
The mountain had sent it out.
My dear friends, perhaps that is a beautiful way of looking at Marymount today.
Years ago, you left this school.
But perhaps you were never simply leaving Marymount.
You were being sent from Marymount.
Sent into families.
Into professions.
Into universities.
Into hospitals, offices, businesses, classrooms and communities.
Sent into different parts of the world.
And last night, when you met your teachers again, perhaps many memories returned.
The classroom.
The laughter.
The friendships.
Perhaps even the teacher you were slightly frightened of!
But today the deeper question is not simply:
“What did Marymount give me?”
The deeper question is:
“Where is what Marymount gave me flowing through me today?”
Jesus says: “Freely you have received; freely give.”
Matthew 10:8
That is the movement of life.
First, we receive.
Then we grow.
And eventually, we must give.
There comes a time when the disciple must become a teacher.
Not necessarily standing in a classroom.
You may become a teacher simply by the way you live.
Somebody is watching how you treat people.
Somebody is learning courage from you.
Somebody is learning generosity from you.
Somebody is learning how to deal with failure by watching how you deal with your own.
Somebody younger may be thinking:
“That is the kind of person I want to become.”
So perhaps today, as you return to Marymount, do not only ask:
Where are my old classrooms?
Where are my teachers?
Where are my friends?
Ask one more question:
“Where is the river that began here flowing now?”
And perhaps an even deeper one:
“To whom have I brought life?”
Because one day, the greatest tribute you can give to those who formed you will not simply be to return and say:
“Thank you for what you gave me.”
It will be to return and say:
“What you gave me did not stop with me.”
And perhaps that is when the mountain smiles.
Amen.