Cyril Silva R.I.P

As I sit down to collect my thoughts to write this essay my mind wanders over the two decade over which I have known him as a priest, an acquaintance... and a friend. Although his passing away did not come as a surprise, him being bedridden for the past few years, it felt as if I had lost something dear to me. It was as if even knowing the finality of the whole situation I would have liked to believe that it would end in a different manner.
My earliest memories are of this strapping priest with a great big white beard coming regularly to my house in Mangalore to minister to my grandmother and others in the house. Now coming to think of it - I do not remember any of what he talked to them, not that I cared anyways. But he would always spare some time for me - and yes, I was a very attention demanding child then; and engage in what I guess could be construed as kid talk. He had a way of connecting with people, across all ages and was able to easily break down the invisible barrier as easily as a knife cuts through butter. I do not think I ever perceived him as aged or someone I couldn't relate to, and he always seemed genuinely interested in what I had to say.
One incident I distinctly remember was when I was at an relatives place in Mangalore where I had gone to spend the day. It happened that he had come by my residence to meet me (my grandmother had left to her heavenly abode by then) and not finding me got an approximate idea of where I was presently. Then he simply mounted on his trusty moped and simply went up and down the streets in the area trying to find the exact place. Finally after trial and error he finally located me blissfully unaware that this old man had spent a good part of his hour in the hot sun trying to locate a 15 year old kid - just. Even I don't think I have done that for any friend yet....
As age took its toll he wasn't able to move around a lot and we used to have a quiet stroll through the seminary gardens. He now walked slowly, but wasn't averse to using his cane to pick a mango for me from the numerous trees around. He always had some quiet words of advice, understanding my needs as I grew in age and knowledge. I truly treasure those moments we spent together.
Finally in the last few years he was bedridden. In some ways he couldn't bear people seeing him in this way - preferring him to be known as the agile priest who would be at others bedside - not the other way around. I still insisted and met him whenever I was down, the fragile hand enveloping my sturdy fingers. His voice was slurred now, and it was painful for me to watch him in such a helpless state. He knew that his time was coming to an end - and that he was soon going to meet his Maker.
He was not related to me in any way - yet I felt a sense of grief which comes with the imminent loss of a loved one.
He passed away in his sleep a few weeks ago, a man who had spent his life serving God.... He was a Priest - and my Friend.

Miracle on the Mount...

Main Entry: mir·a·cle
Pronunciation: 'mir-i-k&l
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French, from Late Latin miraculum, from Latin, a wonder, marvel, from mirari to wonder at
1 : an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
2 : an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment

.... we have only five barley loaves and two fish...

I guess a number of you, both Christian and non-Christian may have heard of the Biblical story of Jesus feeding the multitude, just with five loaves and two fish.... it was called the Miracle on the Mount; however I am not writing this to ramble on about the greatness of God etal - that is best left to the scholars. Not to say that I am not a believer, however certain incidents such as this for me reveal an underlying miracle far beyond what is seen on the surface.

Did Jesus truly multiply the food to feed the multitude? Let us look back and examine this for what it is worth.
Could He... well I think most certainly - its definitely a far easier task if he could rise from the dead.
But on the other hand - did He?
What I believe did happen was a miracle - yes indeed. What Jesus did was one very simple thing. He took what food He had and shared it among His people. Among the large number of people who had come to hear Him speak, there most certainly would have been many who had got food - enough and more for themselves. They sat amongst the grassy hilltop eagerly lapping up what He said. It was all so easy to be swayed by this young, powerful preacher who was offering them a glimpse of freedom, freedom they thought from the Romans, from poverty, from their miserable existence. But for a large number of people these statements were skin deep. When time progressed and evening came around the ones who were resourceful enough to have food would have started towards having a quiet meal - leaving beside the ones who had nothing.
But when they saw their teacher, their guru, taking the little what He had and sharing it amongst others - it would have shamed them to share what they had brought for themselves. Their selfishness all evaporating in one single act of selflessness.
This was an extra-ordinary event, a miracle of titanic proportion - because it would be easier to bring the dead back to life, rather than change the heart of man in an instance.
Now look around you - surely there would be someone in need who you could extend a lending hand. Sometimes - simple things like spending some time with people who need someone to talk to could make all the difference. Wouldn't this help us progress in making our world a better place to live?