March 7, 2026
Kairos Global Kairos Media News

 Shepherd with the ‘smell’ of the Sheep

  • February 26, 2026
  • 12 min read
 Shepherd with the ‘smell’ of the Sheep

Your Excellency pioneered the inclusion of preferential option for the poor as a pillar of the Jesus Youth movement. What prompted you to do so?

I don’t believe I pioneered anything; it is simply returning to the core of the Gospel. An ecclesial movement cannot be Gospel-centric unless its primary attitude is rooted in ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit.’

The Jesus Youth movement attracted many young professionals, whose education and background were often on a path toward status, job security, and the ‘upper layer’ of society. There was a real risk that their faith could become focused solely on individual salvation – a private relationship with God that ignored the structural reality of the world.

I feared a faith that limited charity to ‘almsgiving’ without love. Almsgiving can often be like paying taxes, a necessary pooling of goods for a system to function, but one that requires no personal transformation.

If we look at Church history, before traditional orders became what they are now, they were charismatic initiatives, mendicants, and street preachers. The common thread of every great ecclesial movement to the current day, was a radical embrace of the poor as its central focus. 

The two great commandments, love of God and love of neighbour, must be reflected equally. To ignore the poor is to contaminate the Gospel, their presence is woven into every page of Scripture.

My own conviction was shaped by the ‘wave’ of the 1970s, 80s, and 90s. During my seminary days and early priesthood, I was deeply influenced by Latin American Liberation Theology. While we must avoid the ‘utopian’ trap of thinking the Kingdom of God can be fully realised through material sharing alone, that era provided a necessary eye-opener.

It forced us to look at the chasm between the rich and the suffering millions. If you develop a spirituality that does not open your eyes to the suffering of your neighbour, that spirituality is impotent.

Adding the ‘Option for the Poor’ as a pillar of the Jesus Youth movement was an act of balance. It was meant to ensure that our spiritual growth was not just internal, but ecclesial. My biblical training and experience as a teacher convinced me that this wasn’t just a ‘good idea’, it had to be central to our identity.

True spirituality does not just look upward toward God; it looks outward toward neighbour. By making the poor a pillar of the movement, we ensure that as we rise in the world, we never lose sight of those the Gospel calls us to serve.

The Pope’s message came as no surprise, rather I felt a sense of profound affirmation. He has placed renewed emphasis on what is truly central: love and care for the poor are not mere options or even gestures of philanthropy, but fundamental.

I was overjoyed to see the Pope place the core of the Gospel so clearly at the centre of the Church’s perspective. Toward the end of the Exhortation, our Holy Father notes that the ‘preferential option for the poor’ must be central to all ecclesial movements.

By tracing through Scripture, from the Church Fathers and saints like St John Chrysostom and St Francis of Assisi, the Pope demonstrates love for the poor has always been a constant in our faith. This document strengthens us by returning us to our roots. I am particularly moved because Pope Leo has set the tone for his own papacy on the heels of Pope Francis, who had initiated this document.

How has your Christian journey been shaped by the poor?  

Coming from a simple village family, I learned early on a striking truth: the poor are often the most caring people, bound together by a radical sense of mutual responsibility.

I am often reminded of my dear friend, Allen who passed away recently. He dedicated his life to diocesan charity. During a Bible reflection years ago, he shared a profound image, ‘The poor are like a strong, steady tree, and the rich are like creepers clinging onto the tree. It is not so much that the poor depend on the rich, but that the rich depend on the poor to survive.’ This imagery upends our worldly logic.

If we were to remove ‘Blessed are the poor’ from Scripture, we would be decapitating the very essence of the Gospel. Poverty is a multifaceted human reality – both material and spiritual – and there is a specific blessedness found within it. The poor teach us that life’s value is not anchored in wealth or comfort. They prove that the world does not survive on capital, but on the capacity to share and care.

One encounter from 1985 remains etched in my memory. I was a deacon attending a meeting in Chennai, India. My roommate was a blind student. It so happened while we were climbing a flight of stairs, he reached out, groped for a switch, and turned on the light. ‘It is for you, not for me,’ he said.

That was a revelation. Despite my sight, I needed light. He lived in darkness yet was magnanimous enough to provide light for me. Decades later, this lesson returns to me: those we perceive as ‘lacking’ often provide light we never realised we needed.

There is an elegance in the hospitality of the poor. They open their doors without discrimination, placing the ‘other’ at the centre of their world. In contrast, the wealthy often open doors selectively – for the sake of networking, friendship, or personal gain. The poor practice an ‘other-centeredness’ that is pure and selfless. It reminds us that even the wealthiest person can be spiritually destitute. Jesus, who had everything, chose to be poor to show us that we are merely custodians, not owners. The notion that ‘all I have is mine’ is a spiritual fallacy.

The Psalms consistently remind us that God is the God of the poor. As Psalm 146:7-9 beautifully declares:

The LORD sets prisoners free; the LORD gives sight to the blind. The LORD raises up those who are bowed down; the LORD loves the righteous. The LORD protects the resident alien, comes to the aid of the orphan and the widow, but thwarts the way of the wicked.

My contact with the poor has been profoundly enriching. In their rustic, natural, and down-to-earth sincerity, I have found a more honest version of humanity. They have taught me that to be ‘poor in spirit’ is not about what we lack, but about how much room we leave for God and for one another.

How have you understood the Church’s love for the poor?  

The Gospel of John reminds us, No one has ever seen God. The only Son, God, who is at the Father’s side, has revealed him (1:18). Jesus is the visible face of the invisible Father. However, John writes in his letter, No one has ever seen God. Yet, if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection in us (1 John 4:12). While God remains unseen, His presence becomes tangible through our actions: If we love one another, God resides in us.

We know God by looking at the face of Christ, and Christ Himself tells us where to find that face today – in the poor, the marginalised, and the suffering. To see Christ in the poor and to see God in Christ are not two separate acts; they are the same.

The very identity of the Church is bound to this connection. The word ‘church’ (and the German Kirche) originates from the Greek kyriakos, meaning ‘belonging to the Lord.’

If the Church belongs to the Lord, and the poor belong to the Lord, then the two are inseparable. The Church is not merely a building or an institution that helps the poor; it is a body that is constituted by them. To suggest that the poor have no place in the Church is a theological contradiction. It is as ‘suicidal’ as suggesting that patients have no place in a hospital. A hospital without the sick is just a building; a Church without the poor is a betrayal of its own name.

From the very beginning, the biblical concept of the ‘little flock’ and ‘poor of the Lord’ (the Anawim) has defined the people of God. If we claim to love Christ, that has to be manifested in our love for the poor, for that is where His face is most clearly revealed.

As a bishop, how do you strive to keep love for the poor as a priority? 

In the Diocese of Alleppey, the reality of material poverty is ever-present. Most of our people are daily wage earners – primarily fisher-folk – who live without financial security or the guarantee of a daily catch. 

In our diocese, when a parish builds a church, they also ensure a home is built for a family in need. Recently, I blessed three such houses. Many of our priests and volunteers have dedicated themselves to constructing homes for the homeless and providing medical assistance. We maintain a dedicated fund to ensure this support is consistent.

In modern times, poverty has evolved. While absolute starvation may be less common, we are seeing new, ‘stark’ forms of poverty:

  • The ‘poverty of the rich’ – being left alone, and having no friends or visitors.
  • A lack of guidance for our youth who are exposed to the allurements of ‘easy money’ and substance abuse.
  • The feeling of being ‘orphaned’ in a fast-moving world.

To address this, we are building ‘bridges of relationship.’ We have introduced medical teams and counsellors who visit Sunday schools to speak about mental health and character formation, protecting our children from the dangers lurking in a world of drugs and distractions.

We promote fellowship groups and local self-employment initiatives, to help people create their own jobs. We are also investing heavily in the education of our youth, which remains the greatest tool against generational poverty.

While the challenges we face are immense and sometimes feel overwhelming, our steps are focused on building grounds of relationship and common responsibility. 

In your opinion, what prevents young people exercising their love for the poor?

There is a profound tension in the souls of young people today. On one hand, we see a generation that demands fairness, understands systemic injustice, and wants a society where every citizen is safeguarded through honest distribution and tax systems. Yet, on the other hand, they face internal and external obstacles that make it difficult to truly exercise a love for the poor.

The first obstacle is the economic pressure that defines modern life. The cultural motto, There is no future or guarantee unless you earn creates a ‘mad race’ to be first, to have the latest technology, and to gain access to the newest gadgets. We see a cycle where gadgets are discarded as soon as a new version appears, with little regard for the environmental toll on the planet. This isn’t just greed; it is the response of a frustrated soul trying to find stability in a world that feels shaky.

We often define freedom today as ‘my choice, my way,’ which is a falsified concept. When personal choice becomes the ultimate value, we fall into ‘original sin’ – not the simple act of eating a fruit, but the arrogant affirmation that ‘I alone will choose what is good for myself.’ By refusing to submit to ethics, to God, or to a higher command, young people are injected with a philosophy that prioritises the ‘I’ over the ‘We.’ This makes lifelong commitments, like marriage or sustained service to the poor, seem like unnecessary risks rather than fulfilling vocations.

There is a unique misery found in the ‘soft children of the times.’ Even those who are materially rich often live with a ‘shaky’ future, possessing more anger than hope. When one lives only for themselves, they lose their sense of direction. 

To love the poor, we must shift our perspective. Like the third-class passengers on the Titanic, we often find that life is more vibrant and ‘real’ among those who have less, whereas the upper classes are often busy trying to escape or protect themselves.

The ultimate obstacle is the fear of losing oneself. Yet, as the Gospel suggests: If you live only to save your life for yourself, you are already losing it. 


About Bishop James Anaparambil

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Sijo Thomas

Editor -iIn-Chief Kairos Global