In 1990, I was transferred to Delhi from Patna by the Hindustan Times. I had two school-going children. They studied in a good English-medium school in Patna. I was told that St Columba's School was the best in the Capital. I knew the bishop, the late Eugene de Lastic. I approached him for admission.

He told me that the school was run by the Brothers and that he had no control over them. However, he promised to help me get admission to any school run by the priests. He asked me where I was staying. The moment I said, "Pusa Road," he told me that he would give a letter to the principal of St Michael's School, just five minutes' walk from my house.

That is how my children studied at St Michael's till we shifted to Janakpuri, necessitating a transfer. It bugged me why the bishop said he had no control over St. Columba's, situated on the same campus as the Bishop's House.

A few years later, I approached the principal of Montfort School, Lawrence Road, to hold a three-day camp of the Mar Thoma Yuvajana Sakhyam there. He agreed to our request, and the camp, inaugurated by Union Minister Margaret Alva, was successfully held. For once, I realised that the Brothers were not as inaccessible as they were made out to be.

In 2018, I was invited by the All India Association of Montfort Schools to its second principals' conference held in Chennai. It was a wonderful experience for me to interact with the Brothers. Last year, I was invited by Brother Mani Karott, president of the Assembly of Religious Brothers India, to their 16th National Convention in Bengaluru from May 16 to 18, 2025.

I was a little amused by the invitation as I could not plan so much in advance. Nonetheless, I felt the warmth in the invitation when he periodically contacted me on WhatsApp and phone to ensure that I attended the session and delivered a lecture. I prepared a written lecture for distribution among the Brothers attending the session.

Brother Karott would have been shocked when I asked him whether the Brothers had any cassock to wear and whether they could say Mass. His answer was in the negative. Then, he went on to explain how Brothers were different from priests. He used a Hindu simile to express his viewpoint.

In Hinduism, there are two types of people — the priests and the sanyasis. Traditionally, the priests are from the Brahmin community, except in states like Kerala and Tamil Nadu, where men of any caste can learn the pooja rituals and become priests in government-run temples.

In the case of sanyasis, anyone can become one. As Brother Karott said this, I remembered that I could rattle off at least a dozen names of sanyasis — like Swami Vivekananda, undoubtedly the most popular of all swamis; Swami Ranganathananda, the first Malayali to head the Ramakrishna order; Swami Chinmayananda, who was a great authority on the Gita; Swami Nirmalananda, who set up the Ramakrishna Mission Centres in Kerala; and Paramahansa Yogananda, who popularised yoga. But I could not remember any Hindu priest, except the one who was my friend and priest at the Valanchuzhy temple in Pathanamthitta.

No doubt, it was a brilliant comparison. When Swami Vivekananda addressed the World Parliament of Religions in Chicago, US, on September 11, 1893, he began his speech addressing the audience: "My brothers and sisters of America." It had a startling effect on the people of America.

When I started my speech, I mentioned this story to highlight the fact that brotherhood was more adorable than priesthood. For instance, God has no grandsons or nephews. He has only children. And all children of God are either brothers or sisters.

This probably went well with the audience comprising about 100 Brothers from all over India. The venue was Vidya Deep, CRI Brothers' Institute of Theology. As my flight from Delhi was late because of a technical snag that kept the plane grounded for about two hours, it was very late at night that I reached Bengaluru.

The journey was further delayed as heavy rains caused traffic jams, and the availability of taxis from the airport was minimal. Thanks to Brother Karott connecting me to a Brother from Chandigarh who was also going to Vidya Deep, I could reach around 11:30 p.m. I had no idea where the institute was. The distance was about 45 km from the airport.

In the morning, when I went for a walk, I realised that Vidya Deep was situated in the heart of the city. For instance, Hotel Taj, Hotel Oberoi and Hotel Park were all nearby. What's more, a big mall, a large gurdwara, and a lake were close by. Centrality, however, has its disadvantages. I was happy to read the history of Vidya Deep written by Brother Dr Pius Kizhakkebhagam.

I got an idea about how, and in various stages, it has become the preeminent theological college for the Brothers of India, who, I was told, number no less than 3,000. The Taj Group of Hotels has an eye on Vidya Deep as it would give the hotel another access point to their swimming pool. They are prepared to pay any price. Alas for them, the Brothers are proud of their establishment. After all, they had to move heaven and earth to get it established.

As I interacted with the participants, I realised that the Brothers were considered the Dalits of the Catholic Church. Management experts describe the Catholic management structure as the simplest and most effective. It has the priests at the bottom, the bishops above them, the cardinals above them, and at the top is the Pope. In other words, they have a four-tier system of management to control over 1.5 billion members spread across almost all countries.

The Brothers regret that they don't count in the ecclesiastical structure. In fact, they nurse several grievances. For instance, one of them told me that when Church authorities welcome or give a vote of thanks to those present at a function, the Brothers are invariably left out. They feel that Brothers are not considered equal to priests and, therefore, do not get the respect they deserve.

The Second Vatican Council was, of course, a path-breaker in many respects, but the condition of the Brothers remains the same. True, they run some of the best schools and other educational institutions in the country, and yet they are not considered equal to others in the hierarchy.

One of their demands is that there should be a Brother Cardinal who can take part in the collegium that elects the Pope. But then, it gives rise to the demand that there should be a Sister Cardinal, too. Incidentally, many sisters have earned their theology degrees from Vidya Deep, which houses a library with 17,000 volumes.

The work that the Brothers do is seldom known outside. When a school hits the headlines for the wrong reasons, there is some discussion. For most of the Brothers, their "altar is the classroom," to quote Pope Leo. There are countless Brothers doing silent, selfless work not in metropolitan cities but in the villages of the country.

The 16th Convention began with a cultural programme in which members of an NGO supported by the Brothers presented two dance items. They were mind-boggling, and it was difficult to believe that the dancers were physically or mentally challenged. The prayer of St Francis of Assisi, their patron saint, is considered the greatest prayer after the Lord's Prayer. When the young Brothers sang the prayer in lyrical form, it transported those present to a world of pure ecstasy.

Still, they complain that they are not given important assignments and are often relegated to menial jobs. They are prevented from performing pastoral duties, and the standard of selection of Brothers calls for greater improvement. They also admit that they are themselves partly responsible for the low esteem in which they are held.

No, the purpose of the Convention was not to unite the Brothers on trade union lines but to make them aware of the challenges their vocation faces. Political changes at the national and state levels have also affected their work. In fact, what they expected from me was not merely an elaboration of the present socio-political situation in which Christians are portrayed as dangerous and their activities viewed with suspicion.

I concluded my speech with these words: "The real divide in India today is not between Hindus and Muslims, or Christians and others. It is between the oppressed and the oppressors — between the vast majority who are denied their share in national growth and a tiny elite that clings to power through division and misinformation.

"In the interest of the nation, it is imperative that all those being suppressed — Dalits, Adivasis, OBCs, Muslims, Christians, and secular-minded Hindus — come together in solidarity. The real majority must unite to defeat the tyranny of the privileged few who have, for centuries, monopolised not just resources but also the right to dignity.

"India cannot move forward by dragging its most vulnerable citizens backward. As history shows, social justice is not just a moral imperative — it is a national necessity. It is only through unity, resistance, and democratic mobilisation that we can reclaim the promise of our Constitution and ensure that India belongs to all its people — not just the few who believe they were born to rule."

The role played by the Brothers in evangelisation, education, and social upliftment cannot be overstated. I do not know how many people are aware that at least two Brothers are on the road to canonisation.

The first among them is Servant of God Brother Thommachan Puthenparambil OFS (1836–1908), a pioneer in many respects. Though married with children, he chose to serve the Dalits after reading about the foundation of the Third Order by St Francis of Assisi for married people living in the world.

His fraternity was distinguished by the rope they tied around their waists — they were even called "the fraternity of the roped." Known as the "Kerala Assisi," he was declared Servant of God on June 29, 2012 — the first Syro-Malabar layman to receive that honour.

Another Brother on the path to sainthood is Brother Joseph Thamby (1883–1945), a pioneering evangelist in Andhra Pradesh, Puducherry, and Kerala. How long the canonisation process takes is a big question, but it is a timely reminder that the service of Brothers is as sacred and vital as anyone else's. In matters of faith, it is not the collar or cassock that counts, but sincerity, dedication, and the willingness to walk the extra mile.

In conclusion, the Brothers are the unsung backbone of the Church — self-effacing servants who embrace humility over hierarchy and action over acclaim. Their vocation is rooted in love, education, and upliftment, often in places where others dare not go.

While their exclusion from ecclesiastical power structures is a deep concern, their true power lies in their witness — a quiet, transformative force that uplifts the poor, educates the marginalised, and lives out the Gospel in the most authentic way. It's time the Church recognised that without its Brothers, its mission would be gravely incomplete. Thank you, Brothers, for the fellowship you gave.