Oriental and Western dimensions of the Syro-Malabar Church

 Oriental or Western-Oriented?

The Identity of the Syro-Malabar Church between Tradition and Transformation

It is often said that the Syro-Malabar Catholic Church is Oriental in worship and Indian in culture. This statement captures an essential truth about the historical and spiritual identity of the Church. The Syro-Malabar Church belongs to the East Syriac liturgical tradition, which originated in the regions of Syria, Iraq, and Persia. The liturgy celebrated by the Church today has its roots in the worship life of the early Christian communities of Mesopotamia, where Christianity flourished very early and developed its own distinctive theological and liturgical expressions.

Historically, the language of worship in the Syro-Malabar Church has been East Syriac, a dialect of Aramaic—the language spoken by Jesus himself. The bishops who came to Kerala in the early centuries of Christianity were from Persia and later from Mesopotamia, and they brought with them the ecclesial traditions of the Church of the East. Many of the early saints and Church Fathers who shaped this tradition were East Syrians, with theological centers such as Edessa playing a crucial role in forming Christian thought and worship. As a result, the Syro-Malabar liturgy was unmistakably Oriental in character, marked by symbolic richness, poetic prayer, and a deep sense of mystery.

One of the most striking examples of this Oriental heritage is the use of the Eucharistic Prayer of Addai and Mari, one of the most ancient anaphoras still in use in the Church today. This prayer reflects the early Christian understanding of the Eucharist, emphasizing salvation history, thanksgiving, and the action of the Holy Spirit.  Thus, the liturgy of the Syro-Malabar Church stands as a living witness to the antiquity and authenticity of Eastern Christian worship.

However, this Oriental liturgical identity underwent significant changes during the last four centuries, especially after the Synod of Diamper (1599). Convened under the influence of Portuguese colonial and ecclesiastical authorities, the Synod introduced numerous Western-oriented changes into the liturgy, theology, devotional practices, and ecclesial discipline of the Syro-Malabar Church. Latin theological categories, Roman rubrics, Western devotional practices, and even certain ecclesiological assumptions gradually became part of the lived faith of the community. Over time, these Western elements were not merely imposed externally but were absorbed into the religious consciousness of the faithful and became part of their spiritual heritage.

In recent decades, there has been a strong movement within the Syro-Malabar Church to rediscover and restore the pre-Diamper Oriental liturgy. This effort is inspired by the Second Vatican Council’s call for Eastern Catholic Churches to return to their authentic traditions and preserve their distinct identity within the universal Church. While this movement is theologically justified and historically necessary, it also raises serious pastoral and cultural questions.

The tradition of the last 400 years cannot be dismissed lightly. Four centuries is not a short span of time but a vast historical period—indeed, it is double the history of the United States of America. A sudden and radical return to liturgical forms that were unfamiliar to generations of the faithful, especially when such changes were introduced abruptly in the 1960s and afterward, cannot easily erase what has been lived, loved, and practiced for centuries. As T.S. Eliot insightfully observed, tradition is not the “pastness of the past” but the “presentness of the past.” Tradition lives insofar as it continues to shape the present, not when it is artificially resurrected or rigidly imposed.

A sudden wiping away of long-standing devotions, popular religious practices, and familiar forms of worship can be deeply harmful to the devotional life of ordinary believers. Faith is not sustained by historical purity alone but by continuity, affective memory, and lived experience. When people feel that what nourished their spiritual life for generations is being rejected or labeled inferior, it can lead to confusion, resistance, and even alienation from the Church. Authentic renewal must therefore be pastoral, gradual, and respectful of the faith experience of the people.

It must also be remembered that even the Oriental liturgy itself did not descend fully formed from apostolic times. It took centuries to develop. Patriarchs, theologians, and liturgists across generations added prayers, hymns, and ritual elements to the ancient texts, responding to the spiritual needs of their communities. In this sense, Oriental tradition itself is a living tradition, not a museum artifact frozen in time. To absolutize one historical form of the liturgy while rejecting later developments is to misunderstand the organic nature of tradition.

The reflections of Thomas Merton in his book New Seeds of Contemplation are particularly relevant in this context. He writes:

“The biggest paradox about the Church is that she is at the same time essentially traditional and essentially revolutionary. But that is not as much of a paradox as it seems, because Christian tradition, unlike all others, is a living and perpetual revolution… The living of Catholicism is like the breath of a physical body. It renews life by repelling stagnation; it is a constant, quiet, peaceful revolution against death.

Pope Benedict XVI in his book,”I believe in One God”, speaks of the living and contemporary nature of Tradition:” Tradition is the communion of the faithful around their legitimate Pastors down through the centuries.It is the permanent actualization of the active presence of the Lord.”

Pope Francis in his book,”Hope” explains the intertwining between contemporaneity and  tradition in the Liturgy:

“The liturgy can’t be a rite that is an end in itself,detached from pastoral considerations.the liturgy is an encounter and it is a new start towards others.Christians are not those who go backward.The flow of history and grace moves like the sap of a tree  that bears fruit.Tradition means moving forward….aspiring to unity does not mean uniformity.”

Merton’s insight, thus,t reminds us that true tradition is dynamic rather than static. It preserves life by adapting, renewing, and responding to changing contexts, while remaining rooted in the Gospel. Any attempt to reform the liturgy or reclaim Oriental identity must therefore embody this balance between fidelity and creativity, continuity and renewal.

When we turn to the culture and education of the Syro-Malabar Catholics, the positive impact of Western contact becomes even more evident. It was largely through engagement with Western education, philosophy, theology, and scientific thought that the Syro-Malabar community experienced remarkable growth and transformation. Western missionary institutions, seminaries, and universities played a crucial role in shaping a well-educated clergy and laity. The zeal for evangelization, social reform, and institutional development was significantly strengthened through this encounter with Western culture.

One may even say that the bud of faith, though deeply rooted in ancient soil, remained relatively undeveloped until it was permeated by Western theology and philosophy. The encounter with scholastic theology, modern biblical studies, and contemporary philosophical thought enabled the Syro-Malabar Church to articulate its faith more confidently and engage meaningfully with the modern world.

The transformation in the educational level of Syro-Malabar Catholics is truly remarkable. Many faithful were given opportunities to study in prestigious universities in Europe and the United States, broadening their intellectual horizons and enhancing their social mobility. This exposure not only enriched them personally but also contributed to the economic prosperity and social standing of the community. The clergy, too, benefited immensely from higher studies in Rome and other renowned Catholic universities, which equipped them with theological depth and global ecclesial awareness.

Among all Oriental Catholic Churches, the Syro-Malabar Church stands out today for its high level of education and scientific orientation. Proficiency in English, engagement with modern technology, and adaptability to global contexts have enabled members of the community to excel in various professional fields. Thousands of doctors, nurses, engineers, educators, and professionals from the Syro-Malabar community serve across the world, bearing witness not only to their faith but also to their competence and dedication. One may rightly ask: which other Oriental Catholic communities from regions such as Syria or Iraq have been able to prosper in this way, given their historical and political constraints?

This reality does not diminish the value of Oriental identity but rather shows how fruitful the integration of Western cultural and intellectual elements has been for the Syro-Malabar Church. To reject these benefits in the name of cultural or liturgical purity would be neither wise nor faithful to the Church’s lived history.

What is ultimately needed, therefore, is flexibility and openness—a willingness to embrace the richness of the Oriental liturgical heritage while also preserving and valuing the genuine benefits received from Western culture. Authentic identity does not emerge from exclusion but from integration. The Syro-Malabar Church need not choose between being Oriental or Western-oriented; instead, it is called to be faithfully Oriental in its roots, creatively Indian in its cultural expression, and responsibly open to the global Church.

Such a balanced approach alone can ensure that the Church remains both deeply traditional and dynamically relevant—a living tradition that continues to breathe, grow, and give life to future generations.

 

Dr.John Matthai

Dr. John Matthai
(Honest John: A Life of John Matthai, Bakthiar K. Dadabhoy)

This is an authentic and critical work on the life, writings, and administrative talents of John Matthai, who lived and worked during the decisive years of India’s independence movement. He stood like a colossus among the politicians and administrators of both the pre- and post-independence periods. Though he did not owe allegiance to any political party, his counsel was eagerly sought by politicians and viceroys alike. Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, Vallabhbhai Patel, Rajagopalachari, and others were frequently in contact with him for one reason or another.

It is a tragedy that he could not remain long in some of the highest administrative positions he held in independent India. He was the first Railway Minister and the second Finance Minister of India. He took his responsibilities seriously and did not tolerate interference in his departments. His resignation as Finance Minister followed the creation of the Planning Commission of India, which he believed would encroach upon the functioning of the Ministry of Finance. Despite repeated requests from the Prime Minister to reconsider his decision, he remained firm. With his resignation, India lost a great administrator and financial expert. He harboured no ill feelings and was willing to continue serving the nation in other capacities, such as Chairman of the Tariff Commission. Later, he joined the Tata Group, where he had worked earlier. The Tatas regarded him as one of their own and welcomed his return.

Dr. Matthai was born into an Orthodox Christian family in Kottayam, Kerala. Later, when the family moved to Calicut, they began attending services at the CSI Church. After completing his studies at Madras Christian College, he went to England in 1913 for higher studies at the London School of Economics, with financial assistance from his brother, Cherian Matthai. He earned a D.Sc. from the London School of Economics and subsequently joined Balliol College, Oxford, to pursue a B.Litt. degree. He returned to Madras in 1918, and in 1922, Madras University appointed him as a part-time professor.

His marriage took place in 1921. His wife, Achamma, belonged to the Elanjikall family of E. John Jacob and had pursued her studies in Calcutta. One of the most painful experiences of his life was the untimely death of his beloved daughter, who had gone to the United States for higher studies and passed away there suddenly.

Dr. Matthai accepted the post of Vice-Chancellor of Bombay University but resigned due to differences with the Governor, who was also the Chancellor. He then returned to Kerala and settled in Thrissur at his family property. While residing there, he accepted the position of Vice-Chancellor of the University of Kerala, maintaining his office in Thrissur. As his health deteriorated, he went to Bombay for medical examination at Tata, where he was serving as Chairman. It was then discovered that he was suffering from an advanced form of liver cancer, and doctors gave him little time to live. He passed away on November 2, 1959.

Prime Minister Nehru visited him in the hospital. Though they had differences of opinion, Nehru held him in great esteem. Dr. Matthai, however, did not share the same regard for Nehru.

At his passing, The Times of India wrote:

“In the death of Dr. John Matthai, the nation has lost a great public servant and an uncommon man. For more than four decades, he served his country with distinction, displaying a versatility rare in this age.”

 

A poem of Repentance

 Repentance

Lord, I have no words to describe
Your mercy and Your kindness.
You have been gracious and full of blessings.
In days when life was murky and encounters bitter,
Your mercy and kindness became my help and healing.

But I forgot Your mercy and Your kindness.
I wavered from the paths of righteousness and integrity.
I was foolish and misguided.
I walked along ways that were wrong and unholy.

My lapses, failures, and sins are many.
I do not know how I strayed so far.
Misled by thoughts and feelings impure,
I treated them as trifles of no significance.

Forgive me, Lord.
Send the rays of Your blessing
Upon my withered life and wayward heart.

As I look back, in the evening of my days,
On the paths I have trod,
Shame and repentance fill my soul.
Yet I marvel at how You have protected and guided me
Despite my many faults and failings.

Again and again, You gave me strength
To rise, to walk the right path,
To choose what is good and true.

Lord, Your mercy knows no bounds—
I thank You with tears of gratitude
For Your compassion and forgiveness.

And when my mind and body grow feeble,
When words of thanks can no longer be spoken,
Be with me still—
My strong shield and faithful protector.

Archbishop Mar Mathew Kavukatt

 Archbishop Mar  Mathew Kavukatt

For Eliot, many are hollow men —
Stuffed men, with no depth in their lives.
But once in a while, there arise souls
Like Arnold’s Scholar Gypsy —
Inspiring hearts, offering comfort and consolation.

Archbishop Mathew Kavukatt belonged to the rank of such great men,
Always finding time and offering his resources
For the welfare of those entrusted to his care.

Tall and lanky in appearance, endowed with a gentle, comforting voice,
He was rich in mercy and compassion.
Never did he reject a needy hand;
Always willing to help, always ready to soothe
Those who came to him in hope.

Oh, how I loved his words and quotations
Explaining the intricacies of Church doctrines,
Inviting everyone to draw closer
To Jesus, our Redeemer.
His words flowed with the sweetness of honey —
Never hurting or antagonizing,
But always guiding, showing the right way,
Helping people to overcome the storms and tribulations of life.

I was deeply touched by his counsel;
I will never forget the day he urged me
To pursue higher studies —
Opening before me the path of a teacher’s life.
It was his direction and encouragement
That inspired me to learn in universities
Across India and abroad.

Like the sequoias, whose towering heights
Dwarf the trees around them,
The Archbishop stands tall among all others
In his expression of mercy and compassion.

How lovely were his ways —
More tender than the roses and lilies in his garden.

He is with his heavenly Father now,
Yet his voice, his words, and his kind deeds
Live on in our hearts and memories.
Death does not touch the Archbishop,
Negating Willa Cather’s proposition —
For he lives forever,
Through his love and mercy
In the hearts of those he touched.

He is a shepherd, like his Master,
Willing to carry the lost sheep
Upon his shoulders.

 

Priestly Prayer

 Parce, Domine

A Priestly Reflection

O Lord, I have no words strong or beautiful enough
To convey my heart’s joy, my love, my gratitude.
I can only echo the words of Your great servant, Thomas Aquinas:
Laus et jubilatio — praise and joy.

The path I chose was marked by strain and denial,
Yet through those days of formation, of self-deprivation,
You guided me to a place of joy and peace.
In times of darkness and confusion,
You showed me the right path.

I remember Your call as I walked home after Mass,
Alone, my rosary beads slipping through my fingers.
To work for You and preach Your message
Became a silent mission within my heart.

Your call came decisively on that quiet walk from church.
I was sixteen; the world was opening lightly and brightly before me.
My friends planned for college and bright futures,
But You were already within me, strong and insistent.
I did not think of academic life or a prosperous career,
Though academically I was well-placed.

Yet You worked wonders in my life,
Granting me the grace to study both in India and abroad.
Your kindness and generosity defy words.

My years as a teacher, my time as a college president —
These were Your gifts, enabling me
To touch and guide the lives of many young people.
Countless were the chances You gave me
To help them blossom and bear fruit.
Seeing their growth and achievements,
My heart overflows with joy.

I knew the priestly life would demand sacrifice,
But You were always there — my support, my guide.
Through every phase of my priesthood,
I felt Your presence shining within me,
A radiant light revealing Your will.

Through storms and tribulations,
Through thick clouds and thunder,
Your light never ceased to shine.
You were my lodestar on this priestly journey.

Your words have made me gentle and compassionate.
Your walk upon the sea, and the words, “Do not be afraid” —
These have been the rock upon which I stand.

I remember, too, my failures and lapses,
My sins and falls.
Yet You were always there to lift me,
To set me on my feet again.
In those dark moments, Your words —
“I came to call sinners, not the righteous” —
Brought me courage and peace.

Is a priest’s life a gift or a mystery?
As the great evangelizer, Pope John Paul II, once asked.
I have seen, O Lord, Your hands stretched out upon the cross —
Hands not of wrath, but of caress,
Drawing me into the embrace of Your love.

Now, as the evening of my life
Approaches the shores of eternity,
I see red and orange rays
Breaking across the horizon of my days.
Friends depart. Conversations grow fewer.
The urge to labor fades.

And so I can only pray:

Parce, Domine, parce populo tuo;
Ne in aeternum irascaris nobis.

Spare, O Lord, spare Your people;
Be not angry with us forever.

 

Fr.Mathew Mepreth

 Fr. Mathew Mepreth

O Father, you were a true priest—
encouraging, loving, and inspiring.
Even in illness, when your eyes could no longer see,
your heart still reached out to others.

You spent your days asking about friends and colleagues,
their health, their ministry, their work.
With warm congratulations, gentle thoughts,
and kind words, you lifted spirits.

My own efforts in building academic institutions
were strengthened by your encouragement,
guided by your inspiring voice.
Your words, your calls, your greetings—
they remain fresh in my heart.

I often visited you,
and now those familiar places
feel distant, silent, and far away.

Yet you live on in my thoughts.
The memory of our friendship
will always stay with me.

Goodbye, dear Father.
May the Lord welcome you
into His eternal joy and peace

Goodbye, Sister

How can I ever describe you?
Your love, your humor, your gentle jokes remain with me.
Wherever I go, with whomever I speak,
your presence lingers—quiet, unseen, yet real.

Years have passed, days have rolled by,
but memories stay fresh, alive in my heart.
We never thought this day would come,
yet the Lord has called you home,
to share His eternal joy.

We thought your voice would always greet us
at the close of every day.
Your laughter and your playful words
soothed our hurts, lightened our burdens.
We dreamed our walks together
would never end.

But now your voice is stilled.
Your eyes no longer behold
the beauty of God’s creation.
Still, your laughter, your kindness,
your warmth remain with us.

No longer can we clasp your hand,
nor hear your cheerful welcome.
Goodbye, beloved Sister.
You rest with the Lord.

We, still on the way,
struggle to overcome our sins,
seeking to be purified,
that one day we may also rejoice
in the radiant sunshine of His love.

Goodbye—yet not forever.
We will hold fast to the memory
of those beautiful days and years,
until we meet again.

 

 

Mother Mary Comes to Me by Arundathy Roy

 

“Mother Mary Comes to Me” by Arundhati Roy

This book is a biography of Mary Roy, written by her daughter Arundhati Roy. Yet, in many ways, it also becomes Arundhati’s own autobiography, since the lives of mother and daughter are deeply intertwined—sometimes even beyond her conscious awareness. As Arundhati recounts her mother’s struggles and triumphs, she simultaneously reveals the shaping of her own life.

Arundhati’s worldview, often marked by defiance of traditional moral codes, was shaped by the difficult treatment her mother endured in her youth. Despite rejection and harsh words, she maintained a bond with her mother, keeping the lines of communication open.

In this narrative, Arundhati reveals the pain of growing up deprived of her mother’s affection, the absence of her father, her struggles with identity, her rebellious choices, and her unconventional relationships. Eager to escape, she longed to leave her mother’s school in Kottayam and begin anew at an architecture college in Delhi. Though she worked part-time as an architect, she willingly abandoned it to take part in a documentary on village life—an early sign of her adventurous spirit and her fearless resilience in facing ordeals.

What surprises the reader is the unbroken thread of family ties, especially with her mother. Even though Mary Roy often used harsh and abusive words toward her, Arundhati kept a small flame of love alive—visiting her, and ultimately caring for her in her final days.

Mary Roy herself was a formidable figure. Her landmark legal battle at the Supreme Court of India against the Travancore Christian Succession Act secured equal inheritance rights for women, though it left her estranged from her family and community. She boldly started a school in Kottayam that grew into one of Kerala’s most respected institutions. Her courage, boldness, and uncompromising willpower were traits her daughter also carried forward.

Arundhati, drawing from her mother’s spirit, threw herself into rebellious movements, lending her voice and pen to the marginalized. She lived modestly in a single-room apartment, but with the publication of her first novel, The God of Small Things, her life transformed. The book’s worldwide success brought her wealth, fame, and the means to support social causes close to her heart.

What makes Mother Mary Comes to Me remarkable is how beautifully Arundhati integrates personal experience with literary expression. With fearless honesty, vivid imagery, and flawless diction, she crafts not just a biography of her mother, but also a testament to resilience, rebellion, and the unbreakable bond of love. It is, without doubt, a literary masterpiece.