Christmas and Families (Feast of the Holy Family)

You’ll agree with me when I say that the most ideal celebration of Christmas for Filipinos, and perhaps for other cultures too, is to be with our families on this great festivity. I bet many have shed tears on Christmas day because they are away from their beloved families. “Many” could mean millions of Filipinos… those working abroad, for instance.

A friend’s post on her facebook account made me realize this most remarkably. She said something like this: “This Christmas is gonna be all work for me here in this foreign land. I miss home. I miss watching everyone decorate the house… with Christmas tree… with lanterns… with mistletoes… I miss cooking for noche buena. I miss my palangga. I miss papa and mama. I miss friends dropping by and share the spirit of Christmas. I miss the carolers that come one after the other. I miss home. Terribly. But this Christmas is gonna be all work for me.”

There is indeed a profound link between Christmas and family. After all, the first Christmas is a family affair—the birth of God into a human family. The holy family has an indispensable role in the fulfillment of the prophetic promise that God is going to be among us, God-with-us, even if the world turns a cold shoulder to God’s initiative.

The “Panunuluyan” or “Posadas” reenacts the journey of Joseph and Mary to Bethlehem for the census decreed by the King. In this reenactment, one is easily led to see how the holy family ended up in a manger. The world has been too preoccupied with other concerns to have room for the child to be born. This prefigures the world’s rejection of Jesus and all that he stands for.

Here’s then the central role of the holy family: even if the world rejects God, the family of Joseph and Mary guarantees the provision of the warmth which the chilling baby Jesus needs to survive. The holy family is Jesus’ security. The Holy family ensures the fulfillment of God’s promise in Jesus. The Holy Family accepts, nurtures, and supports Jesus’ vocation and mission in contradistinction to the mockery and derision that Jesus receives from the faithless world.

Today’s gospel (Lk 2:41-52), which is the account of the losing and finding of Jesus in the temple, dramatizes the supporting role of the family of Jesus in relation to his calling. Jesus stayed in the temple listening and asking question, and maybe, even discussing among the teachers; while his parents were worried searching for him for three days! When finally his parents found him and slightly chided him, he said to them, “Why were you looking for me? Do you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?”

Another translation puts it this way: “Do you not know that I must be in my Father’s business?” This means that Jesus was beginning to be aware of his identity and calling. He has to be about what the Father has sent him for. While Joseph and Mary did not understand Jesus’ remark, they nevertheless continued to support Jesus as he grew in wisdom and age.

The holy family is indispensable for the birth, the growth, and vocation and mission of Jesus who became one of us. This holds true then to the role of our families in our lives. We need our families in order to survive and to become persons with meaningful purpose in life. Without a sound family to support us, we can hardly realize our potentials and fulfill our calling.

On this Feast of the Holy Family then, it is fitting to assess our own families. How have our families measured up to their task of forming us into becoming responsible persons? Our families are surely imperfect. But what can still be done to make our families work as the “cradle of life and love” and as the community within which we grow in wisdom and understanding of who we are and what God wants us to do in life?

Our families today are undeniable facing crisis and innumerable threats: To name just a few: High rate of divorce in many nations, stronger assertion of independence of spouses, single-parenting, weakening of parents’ authority, step-parenting, non-marital unions, and particularly for us Filipinos, the breaking of our families because of financial necessity that forces parents to work abroad leaving their growing children to guardians.

There is no one answer to these problems and it is not my purpose to offer one. Maybe the gospel today is a wake up call. It raises the question. It reminds us of the irreplaceable role of our families and therefore challenges us, each of our families and our family ministry, to look seriously into these situations which undermine the health of our families.

When the world rejected Jesus, it is his human family who accepted him, nurtured him, and supported him in what he was called to do. The world continues to be cruel especially for us today and for our children. This is the question we have to face: Where should our children run to for shelter, for understanding, for strength, and for direction if we have allowed our families to disintegrate?

Getting Up Close and Personal (4th Sunday Advent C)

I’ve watched Bruce Willis’ film Surrogates. Since his Die Hard in 1988, I have been a fan. I’ve seen through the thinning and graying of his hair. So I was kind of shock to see a young and perfectly fit Bruce Willis as Agent Greer in the early scenes of Surrogates. But the movie unfolded and revealed that what I was seeing was Greer’s surrogate—a mechanical representative of the real person. The movie explores a future in which humans live in isolation while only communicating with their fellow man through robots that serve as social surrogates and are better-looking versions of their human counterparts. In other words, this is a future when mechanical interaction substitutes the excitement of getting up close and personal.

This seems farfetched at first glance. But a keen observation of how we interact today would reveal such substituting as already happening. Not with surrogates though.

In a restaurant, I’ve watched four fellows seated at one table. For the most part, they were silent because each was busy sending text messages. Isn’t it alarming that they have one another yet they prefer to ignore one another’s presence in favor of a mechanical interaction with somebody out there who, most probably, ignores the company of his own friends too?

Another phenomenon that reveals this is the ‘facebook addiction.’ It is not uncommon now to see people spending most of their time interacting through these internet social networks. A mother recounted to me her bewilderment at her observation that her children dislike playing with other kids. They hole up in their rooms and interact instead with cyber friends via the internet.

Once, a mixture of amusement and feeling of alarm overtook me when someone asked me if I would do counseling by texting! Imagine! I was even advised to enroll to ‘unli-texting.’

Today’s gospel recounts the Visitation—Mary visits Elizabeth (Lk 1:39-45). The event is charged with so much joy. Even the infant in Elizabeth’s womb leaped for joy at Mary’s greeting. It is in this event too that Mary herself utters her Magnificat, saying: “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord; my spirit exults in God my savior.” (This is read in the succeeding verses though).

I would like to submit that today’s gospel reading is a good reminder that while technology increases our efficiency in communications, among other things, it cannot substitute the joy brought by the old fashion personal presence and encounter with real people—as in the encounter between Mary and Elizabeth.


In the light of the visitation, the joy generated by such a personal encounter may be understood in two levels: as the joy of caring and as the joy of celebration.

The Joy of Caring. Mary travelled (for four days, according to scholars) in order to take care of her cousin Elizabeth who in her old age was about to give birth to John. Mary’s visit to Elizabeth displays the deep and loving concern that bonds those whom God calls. In demonstrating this loving concern, joy is a natural product. There is joy in serving and caring for one another even though and precisely because this requires personal self-sacrifice and self-giving. I think, this is what is threatened when people settle with the convenient mechanical interaction.

The Joy of Celebration. The people of Israel has been longing for the Messiah to liberate them. There is so much suffering and oppression. Their only hope is the coming of the Messiah. Mary and Elizabeth know what’s going on. They both carry in their womb the fulfillment of the hope of Israel. Their joy then is the joy of celebration. Mary’s visit is meant, more than just to serve her cousin, to celebrate with her the fulfillment of their hope and to share with each other their faith in God’s faithfulness.

The joy of caring and of celebration of hope and faith is at the heart of such a meaningful personal human encounter between Mary and Elizabeth. This is what is lacking in an easy, “safe,” and convenient mechanical interaction of today’s technological era.

I am realizing how little time I have spent visiting families. To care and to celebrate with them. I would have brought more joy to people’s lives and to my own, had I been more up close and personal with people.

How about you? Would you prefer the easy, convenient, mechanical interaction to a real and personal encounter with people and friends? Well, since we all desire true joy in life, it is good to listen to this advent message of joy: the joy of caring and the joy of celebration which can only be had by not being afraid of brushing elbows with real people and getting involve in and identifying with their hopes and prayers.

May our Christmas reunions, with family or with old and new friends, be our own way of doing the visitation. May it all generate much joy as we come together and care for one another and celebrate God’s faithfulness in our lives. Amen.

The Advent Secret (Gaudete Sunday C)

Do you want to know a secret? How can one truly attain joy? Check this out: JOY means J-esus first, O-thers next, Y-ourself last. Let this “advent secret” be our reflection today, the third Sunday of Advent known as Gaudete Sunday. Gaudete means rejoice. It is from the Latin word gaudium which means joy.

How can we truly rejoice? How can we sing with conviction the popular song that we fondly croon as Christmas arrives-- “Joy to the World”? Let’s try to unravel the secret.

Jesus First. Our hearts are always searching for that which gives joy. Often we look for it in the wrong places and in our passing fancies. We strive hard to gain almost everything the world has to offer: power, honor, riches, pleasure, and what not. Experience will tell that these cannot guarantee a joyful life. We may have gained the whole world but may still feel lost all the more, still wondering about this unexplainable restlessness inside. Great theologians have given an explanation to this: We are created with an inherent orientation towards God. Our hearts are deeply longing for God. Hence, unless Jesus is first in our prioritizing in life, we will never attain joy completely. There will always be a gaping hole in our hearts.

John the Baptist proclaimed the coming of Jesus and God’s Kingdom. In today’s gospel (Lk. 3:10-18), he points to Jesus as the Messiah. “I am baptizing you with water, but one mightier than I is coming…” (v. 16). For John, Jesus is first. John is only the precursor. He does not claim for himself the honor and reverence proper to the Messiah. “I am not worthy to loosen the thongs of his sandals” (v. 16). John’s life is at the service of Jesus. He humbly prepares for Jesus’ coming. His whole life points to Jesus. Jesus for John is first.

In this advent season, do we long for Jesus? Should we not re-examine our priorities in life? Do our lives point to Jesus as John’s life did? If our lives do not have joy despite our successes, great are the odds that it is because Jesus does not figure first in our priorities.

Others Next. The joy of having Jesus in our lives has practical implications. Such joy invites us to reach out to others. We are confronted with this question: “What ought we to do?” The crowds asked John the same question, “What then should we do?” (v.10). John’s reply indicates a moral obligation towards others. To the crowds, he gave the instruction to share their clothes and food to those who have none; to the tax collector, to refrain from collecting taxes more than what is prescribed; to the soldiers, to stop extorting and accusing others falsely (v. 11-14).

The world today is teeming with poor and hungry people. Yet the few filthy rich people are wallowing in luxury! Graft and corruption too has become a culture in almost all institutions and politico-economic systems. Abuse of power, be it by public officials or by military around the world, continue to wreak havoc on the life of peoples. John’s message has never been more relevant than today. For this world to find joy, it needs transformation. John’s call is for us to become agents of this change by taking seriously our moral obligation to take care of one another in solidarity and in the spirit of justice and love, respecting each other’s dignity with a special concern for the downtrodden.

Can we truly sing “Joy to the World”? Won’t it be just a wishful thinking? How have we been accomplice to the perpetuation of the suffering of many? Can we then make this season of advent a time to be truly concerned about the needs of others? After all, the joy of having Jesus compels us to share it with one another in solidarity.

Yourself Last. Another clear implication of having Jesus as the priority of our lives has to do with our very own selves. Another question confronts us. After asking “What should we do?” we need to ask, “What should we become?” Being last in the priority does not mean we stop caring about ourselves. No. It means we stop being self-centered which is the root of the world’s misery and, ironically, of our own desolation too. “What should we become?” is a question that compels us to discern God’s intention for our being. Instead of being self-centered, we need to find the center of our being. It is only when we are in touch with the core of ourselves that we know who we really are and hence capable of celebrating true joy—one that runs deep and not just the cheap thrill of our superficial ego trips.

John the Baptist knew who he was. Hence, he saved himself from the illusion of usurping for himself what belonged to the true messiah. With joy he served and died as the humble precursor for that was what God called him to become.

In this season of advent, let us unmask our self-centeredness and courageously embrace our real vocation.

Again to have joy, deep, deep down in our hearts, we have to work on this advent secret: Jesus first, Others next, and Yourself last.

Preparing for True Christmas (2nd Sunday Advent C)

We are yet into the second week of advent but already some signs of Christmas festivities are starting to be felt early on. Somehow I feel we are cutting short our preparations for the Christmas season. Or more alarmingly perhaps we are losing sight of the true meaning of Christmas. Let me expound this point in the light of the voice in the desert in today’s gospel boldly crying out: “Prepare the way of the Lord.”

I was in a mall for some things I needed. A very familiar song was wafting in the air and caught my attention: “People making list, buying special gifts, taking time to be kind to one and all…” I suddenly missed Michael Jackson. Also, something inside of me was awakened. I began worrying about goodies and stuff to buy as Christmas presents for my family and friends! Then all of a sudden I was made aware of the many attractive gift packages already displayed in every nook and cranny of the mall. I checked them out and they were beckoning me… enticing me… whispering to me… “Buy me.” When I mustered all the remaining courage to resist, a beautiful saleslady approached me. I was afraid she might whisper too. Luckily this time my remaining wits got me off the hook. I managed to quickly compliment her. “Miss, it’s a beautiful hat you’re wearing, huh.” It was Santa’s red hat.

I remember a missionary friend stationed in China. Once he told me how surprised he was to discover one store in the midst of a communist and Buddhist society selling Christmas decorations and stuff. He entered the store. Curiously he looked for a “Belen.” There was none. He approached the store owner and asked for it. “What’s a Belen?” the store owner asked (of course in mandarin). “It’s a manger where Jesus Christ is born.” “Sorry, we don’t have it. Why don’t you buy this stuff instead; I think this is the reason behind Christmas celebration, isn’t it?” The store owner was pointing at the image of Santa Claus and the cute reindeer pulling his sleigh.

This is the problem when we cut short the season of advent. We are bound to fail to heed the voice in the desert shouting: “Prepare the way of the Lord.” We lose sight of the Lord Jesus Christ and all he stands for. We unwittingly welcome Santa Claus and his reindeer instead.

Hence, preparations for Christmas become a matter of putting up external decorations, installing intricate series of lights that beguile us enough to forget the shooting up of our electric bills afterwards. Moreover, preparing for Christmas means shopping! So we demand bonuses as our right, only to spend those in buying things we falsely believe to bring home the spirit of Christmas.

If we don’t take Advent seriously, we uncritically fall into the trap set by the commercial traders who are all too happy to turn this great feast into a materialistic perversion.

I find resonance in the words of the Columban Missionary, Fr. Shay Cullen, in one of his articles: “Many people wrongly measure themselves by what they own, possess and control rather than measuring themselves by their commitment and action in doing good for others. Christmas has become the worship of prancing reindeer and an obese man with a beard rather than the heroic self-sacrificing Jesus of Nazareth and all he stands for.”

We need to recapture the true meaning of Christmas, lest we all condone its degeneration into another of those consumerist festivals. Would you be happy to revise Christmas and call it “consumeristmas” instead?

We see then the import of Advent. The season calls for authentic preparation: “Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight his paths. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain and hill shall be made low. The winding roads shall be made straight, and the rough ways made smooth, and all flesh shall see the salvation of God” (Lk 3:4-6).

These are words of the prophet Isaiah which the gospel of today links with John the Baptist’s proclamation of a baptism of repentance. The prophets and John were incessant in their reminder of the need to prepare for the Lord’s coming. They called for repentance.

Hence, preparation during advent, for the people of this generation, is not so much about possession of new things or participation in the consumerist festival. Precisely, it is turning our back to this materialistic propensity. This is the meaning of repentance. It is turning towards Jesus and embracing his values. This is how we prepare the way of the Lord.

Again, in the words of Fr. Shay Cullen:

“Jesus brought into the world a whole new way of viewing the purpose and meaning of human life. It is a challenge for us to choose to serve others, to forget self and worldly ambition, throw aside the perverting desire for wealth, power, riches and to live with simplicity, compassion and care for those in dire need and not do it for a reward in this life or the next. Jesus called for the world to turn from oppressing and exploiting the poor and the weak and to do good, oppose evil ambitions, war, violence and the violation of people's rights.”

Such is what Christmas truly stands for.

So this second Sunday of Advent we may do well to prepare the way of the Lord by examining our uncritical attitude towards the consumerism that’s scandalously undermining the true meaning of Christmas. Well, in simple and direct terms, this means less shopping and buying unnecessary things; but more time for interior readiness to embrace the Lord and serve Him in one another especially in the poor of today.

How have you celebrated Christmas before? Was it Christ-centered or Santa Claus-inspired? Which festival would you want to participate in? Christmas? Or Consumeristmas?

Allegiance of the Heart (Christ the King B)

Today we give honor to the King of kings—Jesus Christ. On this Feast of Christ the King which signals the end of the liturgical year, it’s fitting to reflect on how we have given honor to him. How have we shown allegiance to our King?

It is one thing to profess in words that Christ is the King; it’s quite another to sincerely order our lives according to what pleases the King. The former act may well be fulfilled by lip-servicing as many of us do actually; the latter requires a great deal of trust and surrender to God’s will. The former may not transform our self-centeredness; the latter can change our value system and way of life, the will of God being at the center.

Have we allowed Jesus to be truly the King of our lives?  And what might this act of surrender imply?

In today’s gospel (Jn 18:33-37) Jesus is in trial in front of Pilate. The exchange between them unfolds the nature of Jesus’ Kingship. “Are you the king of the Jews?” is the question thrown by Pilate to Jesus. The answer to which determines whether or not Jesus is guilty of treason as charged. And Jesus answers obliquely that his “kingdom does not belong to this world.” This implies of course that indeed he is a king but of a different order.

All earthly kings rule in the external public forum--the socio-economic and political affairs-- which is configured by men and governed by them. No. Jesus is King not of that order. His kingdom does not rely on military strategies, or on economic systems, or on political power.

Instead, Jesus is king of the internal forum—the affairs of the heart, the arena of conscience—where the deepest spiritual strivings and the search for the truth transpire. As such, this arena is far superior to the former. The allegiance of the heart is immeasurably more profound than any external public adherence, say, to a political party. Thomas More, for instance, is remembered by his remarks just before his execution: “I die as the king’s true servant, but God’s first.”

Ultimately, the interior adherence to Jesus in faith ought to influence the way we conduct even our external public affairs. This is why even without military personnel and political machinery, Jesus’ kingship is radically transformative—the very reason why the revered people in the corridors of power in his time wanted to get rid of him!

“Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice” (v. 37). This is the statement of our King. Listening to his voice is how we show our allegiance to him. This means allowing Jesus to rule the affairs of our hearts and letting his truth reverberate in every nook and cranny of our conscience. To accept Jesus as king, then, is to be aware of the interior adherence of faith he demands and to actually live by it each day.

But how do we grow in this “interior allegiance of the heart?” How can we truly discern the voice of the King in our lives? Let me suggest three elements adapted from the thoughts of Fr. Thomas Green, SJ, a spiritual director and writer:

A desire to do God’s will. To grow in this interior allegiance to Christ, we ought to cultivate this desire to do his will and to let go of our self-centered whims and caprices. We should desire to accomplish God’s work in our lives. This means that what the Lord wants is more important to us than what we want. If we honestly do not have this desire to do his will, how else can we profess that He is our King other than by lip-servicing?

Openness to God. To genuinely desire God’s will, we must be open to God as he reveals himself in his mysterious, surprising, and even disturbing ways. We must be open to be taught and be led the by the Lord. We must let him be the boss. Isn’t it true that often we approach God with all our preconceptions of him? And we even place him within the limiting confines of our expectations! If the Lord’s will matters to us the most, then these limited and limiting notions of him must give way to openness, letting God be God and truly our King.

A Knowledge of God. We can only know what pleases the Lord when we have known him. This knowledge is not just information about God but our lived experience of him. If we lack this personal and experiential knowledge of God, then we need to grow in this by the help of a spiritual guide or the support of a community who has grown in intimacy with the Lord. Hence, it is essential that we continue to ask the grace of intimacy with the Lord as it is impossible to surrender our lives to a King whom we do not know and care about.

We end this liturgical year with this Feast of Christ the King. Let us strive then, with God’s enabling grace, to listen to God’s voice in the deepest recesses of our hearts and, guided by it, lead a life that is truly pleasing to him.

What Hope Is There? (33rd Sunday Ordinary B)

Why do bad people prosper? Conversely and even more poignant: Why do good people needlessly suffer? It’s without rhyme or reason indeed. Our human logic and sense of justice demand that the other way around ought to be true. But no amount of wishful thinking can seem to change this reality. Oftentimes, this makes us helplessly angry. We protest. We cry out for justice. We gnash our teeth, for instance, when corrupt leaders get away with wholesale thievery of public funds pointing a finger to helpless escape goats, continue to assume power and influence, and even get second chances! Whereas people of integrity never make it to public positions of leadership or if they do, they are either persecuted or die early. It’s appalling, isn’t it? This isn’t fair.

I cannot forget, for instance, what happened to the dedicated high school principal in a town of Sulu in 2009.  The principal was kidnapped, accordingly by the Abu Sayyaf extremists, and two million pesos was demanded for the ransom! One could only wonder how they could do such a thing to a public teacher.  Worse, after several weeks, the news was out that the poor principal was beheaded; most probably for not coming up with the ransom! The savagery inflicted on a person who had been selfless in serving the educational needs of such a place where people like to go the least was simply revolting. I did not know the teacher personally; but just the same, I felt every fiber of my being, just as many others do, cry out for justice and retribution on his behalf. Was this rightful demand for justice met? So far, the straightforward answer is NO.

What then can satisfy our rightful longing for justice? What hope is there for the righteous to be rendered what they truly deserve?

Today’s readings are about this hope. The language of the first reading (Dn 12:1-3) and the gospel today (Mk 13:24-32) is apocalyptic. Apocalyptic literature sounds terrifying as it describes graphically the end of time; but in fact, it has something to do with the people’s cry for justice and retribution. The evil seem to have their way in history. They prosper. The good long for their reward as promised; but all too often, it is not given them. They even suffer. This same observation of old made the Jewish prophetic tradition gradually realize that justice for the faithful would have to reach beyond the here and now. The apocalyptic eschatology then emerged such as that of the book of Daniel. This apocalyptic literature is an expression of hope that there will be an end to this history fraught with injustices. The end of time will mark the ultimate victory of God over evil. God’s justice will certainly reign.

In today’s gospel, for instance, after describing the days of tribulation marked by the darkening of the sun and the moon, the dislocation of the stars, and the agitation of the powers in the heavens, the evangelist Mark announces the coming of the Son of Man in the clouds with great power and glory to gather his elect from all parts of the world.

‘The Son of Man coming in the clouds’ is an expression that reveals Jesus as a divine judge.  Those who have been faithful will finally have their vindication. Thus, Mark’s intention in this apocalyptic writing is to exhort the Christian communities of his time to remain faithful in the face of persecution and suffering. This gospel is a message of hope and encouragement rather than of fear.  It’s the evangelist way of saying, “Don’t lose heart! Hold on! God will have the final word!”

We all could use such an encouragement. When our commitment for justice seems to come to naught, when our goodness seems to have no reward, when our conscientious witnessing of our faith brings persecution and suffering, we need to heed this voice again and again: “Don’t lose heart! Hold on! God will have the final word!” This assurance in no way tolerates a fatalistic attitude to life. This is not an encouragement to be passive towards injustices, relegating resolution to the afterlife. Rather, this gives an impetus, a shot in the arm, to our commitment to justice and goodness as our standard way of living in this present life—despite the seeming evident prosperity of the contrary.

So, when we are faced with such an existential question as the seeming unfairness of life, or when we, in our goodness and our own witness of the gospel values, experience misfortunes, we need to be courageous and steadfast in our faith. We need to hold on. Not giving up. Not losing heart. Continue to work for goodness making this world a better place to live in as we also pray each day to the Lord of history, “May your Kingdom come” that justice and goodness may finally flourish.

Do I have the steadfastness of faith to see me through life’s tribulations and to trust in God’s promise of the ultimate victory of the just?

* * *

If you do good people will accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.
If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.
People really need help but may attack if you help them.
Help people anyway.
Give the world the best you have and you might get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you've got anyway.

                                                                        -Dr. Kent M. Keith         

What's Left When You Give? (32nd Sunday Ordinary B)

On these times of calamities, we have more opportunities to witness the outpouring of solidarity by the amount of pledges and donations coming from all the ends of the earth to aid the communities victimized by disasters. Donations to the tune of millions of pesos and dollars simply awe and relieve us all at the same time.

We easily measure generosity by how much we are awed by the amount or volume of what is given. We readily express our deepest and sincerest gratitude to people who share a large portion of their fortune to charitable projects or to relief and rehabilitation programs.

However, it seems to me the gospel proposes another way, a radical one, of measuring generosity. It is not by the awesome amount of what is given but by the meagerness of what is left of the giver. True generosity is measured by the willingness of the giver to share even that which he/she needs. A truly generous person is one who gives even if little or nothing is left for him/her. The widow in today’s gospel (Mk 12: 38-44) for instance, by putting in two small coins, gives more than all the other contributors to the temple treasury. Jesus explains: “For they have all contributed from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has contributed all she had, her whole livelihood” (v. 44). Jesus had given in this manner too. His was a total self-giving. Nothing was left when he gave his life, not even his seamless tunic!

Generosity, again, is truly measured by what is left when one gives.

When one gives a million pesos to the needy, for after all he has more millions in the bank, he has simply shared from his surplus. Or maybe even just succeeded in legally pulling off tax avoidance. For St. Basil, one of the influential Fathers of the Church, this scenario is not yet generosity. This is yet a fulfillment of an obligation, a rightful response to the demand of justice. St. Basil once wrote: “The bread you keep belongs to the hungry; that coat which you preserve in your wardrobe, to the naked; those shoes which are rotting in your possessions, to the shoeless; that gold which you have hidden in the ground to the needy.” So, to give them is to return them to the rightful owner—the needy. When the wealthy give out of their surplus, it may just be a fulfillment of justice. It is not yet charity, nor generosity. True generosity, more than a demand of justice, is an act of love. It is giving out of what is truly your share, i.e., out of what you yourself need.

In all these, it is much easier to understand Jesus’ teaching on the blessedness of the poor.  The poor is always in such occasions as to give from his needs for he has nothing to spare almost all the time. Hence, the poor has the facility to be truly generous. Almost always when he gives, he puts in his needed share; oftentimes, even his very self. This is hard for the wealthy, for he still has to come to terms with justice first.  

This illustration might help: In a particular parish, a wealthy politician somehow felt like being ‘generous.’ He donated 5,000 pesos to the catechetical program. When announced for acknowledgment, a great applause was heard. A beaming parish priest was seen in the altar very satisfied. Honorable Congressman is very generous. But not known to everyone , a poor mother of six, in a far-flung barrio, leaves her home each day to go to the public school and spend her needed time catechizing children while at the same time worrying at the back of her mind what to bring home later to feed her family. All these she does as a volunteer. But her self-giving remains unnoticed for it seems that her contribution is insignificant. Hence, there’s no thundering applause for her.

In the light of today’s gospel that volunteer catechist has put in so much more than what the politician has given even if, let us say by heaven’s grace, he donates on a monthly basis!

This is not to discourage the rich from giving. This is to challenge the haves to take seriously their obligation to the have-nots without bragging about it, for there is really nothing to boast about.  But more to the point, this is about empowering the ‘insignificant’ to believe in what they can still put in. The little contribution they offer is actually an act of true generosity. Whatever the poor gives, it is significant! The 25 centavos donation of the poor to the ‘Pundo ng Pinoy’ is significant. (In fact, the fund is now feeding thousands of otherwise malnourished children all over the country!) The labor counterpart of the poor in building houses through the ‘Gawad Kalinga’ program is tremendously significant! The tithes or pledges and the active presence of the poor in the church significantly strengthen the spirit of the BECs. The two small coins of the widow, as Jesus pointed out, are significant.

Do I give little out of my abundance? Or do I give abundantly out of the little I have? What is left when I give?  

Love and Imperfections (All Soul’s Day)

Valentino, my dad, was a good man. He was well known in our town for his availability to serve people in many and varied ways. He was the town's jack-of-all-trades. And he was really good at fixing a lot of things. A Jesuit priest fondly called him “MacGyver” after a TV series character who possesses an encyclopedic knowledge of the physical sciences and solves complex problems with everyday materials he finds at hand. When there was drought in our place, my dad fixed his tractor and with a trailer he would fetch water from a source and deliver some to those who badly needed it. He was everyone's friend, even the kids. He had a heart for the poor; many times, out of compassion, he would secretly give away the medicines from my mother's pharmacy. He was not as religious as many of us, but he trusted in God and feared Him. Later in his life, he devoted some of his time reading the Bible. In no time, he read it from cover to cover! 

But he had his flaws too. He could be impatient and could allow his temper to get the better of him. When he was in the throes of his anger, he could hurt his loved ones with his scathing words. He would not listen and could be unrelenting when he felt he was right.

In short, my father was a good man. But like everyone else, he was not perfect.  He had his share of human faults and weaknesses. Today, on All Soul’s Day, I remember him in a very special way. And I thank God for this day of grace. In a way, the message of today’s feast is that despite our imperfections God’s grace continues to draw everyone to his love.  The Good News we are proclaiming today is that God loves us warts and all and that the love of God does not forsake our departed brothers and sisters even when they somehow failed to measure up to the ideals of Christian perfection.

Some Christians refuse to accept the Catholic teaching on purgatory—because the word does not appear in the Bible! Let us not be trapped in fundamentalism.  The teaching on purgatory is a comforting doctrine and perfectly consistent with the biblical message of God’s mercy and love.  As Catholics we speak of Purgatory as a state of being in which the faithful departed undergo the process of purification, purging away the imperfections and some selfish tendencies due to sin that hinder them from completely embracing God. In this process of purification, the benevolent God responds to the prayers of many to receive all his beloved children into his heavenly banquet.

It is with this belief that we offer our prayers and the celebration of the holy sacrifice of the Mass for our departed loved ones. This practice of praying for the dead has been done already by the early Christians. In his essay on this particular feast, Fr. Eugene Lobo S.J. has this to say: “Tradition tells us that Christians have always been praying for their departed brothers and sisters to remain in communion with them. Early liturgies and inscriptions on catacomb walls attest to the ancientness of prayers for the dead, even if the Church needed more time to develop a substantial theology behind this practice. Praying for the dead is actually borrowed from Judaism, as indicated in the second book of Maccabees.  In the New Testament, St Paul prays for his departed friend Onesiphorus to receive divine mercy as we read in second Timothy. Early Christian writers Tertullian and St. Cyprian testify to the regular practice of praying for the souls of the departed. Tertullian justified the practice based on custom and Tradition, and not on explicit scriptural teaching. The Christians always believed that their prayers could somehow have a positive effect on the souls of departed believers.”

The Benedictine communities during the 6th century held commemorations for the departed on the feast of Pentecost. Later in the year 998, All Souls’ Day became a universal festival because of the influence of Odilo of Cluny who commanded its annual celebration in the Benedictine houses of his congregation. This practice soon spread to the Carthusian congregations as well.   Today all Western Catholics celebrate All Souls’ Day on November 2.

Today, as we join billions of our brothers and sisters in the faith in prayers for the faithful departed, we thank God for the assurance that His love always awaits them our departed loved ones. We thank God for his love and mercy. Today’s celebration is also a reminder for us who are still on our pilgrimage that God offers his love and  awaits our total and complete response.  While on earth, as a pilgrim Church, God invites us to love him and the quality of our response to that love will have significant relevance on Judgment day.

Our gospel reading today (Mt. 25:31-46) reveals to us the standard by which we shall be judged on that day. To those who have proven their love of God by loving and serving the least of our brothers and sisters, the Kingdom of heaven awaits. “Come, you who are blessed by my Father. Inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me drink, a stranger and you welcomed me, naked and you clothed me, ill and you cared for me, in prison and you visited me” (v.34-36). We do all these acts of love and mercy for God whenever we do these for one of our least brothers and sisters.

God loves us and He invites us to respond to him in love. Yes, we are not perfect but, with God's grace, we can grow towards maturity and perfection as we love God through the least of our neighbors. Let us continue to pray for another and for our departed brothers and sisters. Our prayers testify to our faith in the power of God's grace. It is God's grace that allows us to grow in perfection so that we may all deserve to come to see Him face to face in the heavenly banquet.

To Love After God’s Own Heart (31st Sunday Ordinary B)

The words of St. Teresa of Calcutta have always been very simple. But I find them powerful and radical because they are coming from a true witness of the gospel of love. I would always imagine that generous donors from all over the world come to see her ministering to the poorest of the poor and some would cringe at the sight of her touching and taking care of the lepers and would probably remark, “Eww, I wouldn’t do that even for a thousand pounds!” And Mother Teresa would just smile and, without moralizing, would agree with the rich donor as she would say, “Neither would I.” Then her often quoted words come alive and kick me off my growing complacency as I listen to her once more:  “I try to give to the poor people for love what the rich could get for money. No, I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.”

Caring for the unlovable not for any amount of money but for the love of God!  Mother Teresa’s life and words are concrete incarnation of the radical call to love—loving God and loving our neighbour as two distinct but interrelated acts of loving. And it’s true, no one can love the unlovable except when one has a heart that loves God and loves like God.

Today’s gospel (Mk 12: 28-34) reminds us of the two greatest commandments.  As an answer to the scribes’ question regarding the most important commandment, Jesus replies: “This is the first: ‘Hear, O Israel! The Lord our God is Lord alone! Therefore you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength.’  This is the second, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no other commandment greater than these.”

These two are the greatest commandments and therefore ought to be our most fundamental calling as believers and followers of Christ.  Mother Teresa’s life had the power to touch the whole world, believers and non-believers alike, only because she lived by the words of Christ. She took on the demands of love and gave all her life loving God by loving the poorest. Let us then reflect on these two interrelated demands of love as our own calling too.

Love of God.  Jesus reaffirms the words of Moses in our first reading (Dt 6: 2-6) as the most important of all commandments.  To love God, the Lord, is to love him with our entire being: with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.  There’s no room here for partial loving. The demand is total.  We ought to love God with everything that we have and are! This means that God has to be the center of our life. It is God whom we ought to seek in life and serve.  His will and his commandments ought to be the principles by which we live.  In the words of Moses, when we keep God’s statutes, we’re going to “have long life;” “we grow and prosper all the more” in the promised “land flowing with milk and honey.”  Loving God with our entire being brings life and abundance. When we have God, we shall not be in want.

Our problem is always our divided and confused heart. We often find ourselves desiring and seeking first what the world promise to give.  We can live and die for money, fame, power, etc. But we don’t see ourselves dying for God. Worse, we treat God, maybe unwittingly, only as a means (in our prayers and petitions for instance) to attain these created things thinking they give meaning to life.  Moreover, many times our heart goes for ourselves. We love ourselves more than we love God. We follow our own design and ignore God’s especially when the two collide.  No wonder, our pursuit for a meaningful life implies endless seeking for material gains and maintenance or increase of our personal glory and power. This idolatrous love for things and self only leads to unspeakable social injustices, violence, and un-peace as can be observed in the realities in our midst right now as we speak.

Again, as followers of Christ, let us take Christ’s words seriously.  To save humanity and the world from self-destruction, we ought to check our priorities and the focus of our love. God has to be our first and highest value and the center of our lives, individual and social. We have to love God above all else and seek first his reign and everything will fall in place.

Love of Neighbour.  A necessary implication of our commitment to love God is to love our neighbour as ourselves.  Again, these two commandments have the book of Moses as their origin. But the Mosaic Law presents them separately and no stress on their interrelationship is made.  Jesus has placed them together and hence, offers a new Christian perspective to loving. In the words of John Paul II: “One cannot love God if one does not love one’s brethren, creating a deep and lasting communion of love with them.”  Christianity will always see these two loves as two sides of the same coin. We cannot have one and ignore the other.

A person who truly loves God also learns to love like God.  Hence, we love not only those who are close to us and those within our circle of friends. Like God who loves and provides for the needs of all without distinction, we are also called to love without distinction.  The neighbour then includes strangers and even enemies as Jesus instructs in another part of the gospel.  Mother Teresa committed her life caring for the unlovable in society—the poorest of the poor, the lepers, the AIDS victims, the abandoned.

Left on our own, we choose whom we love and care for.  We go for those who possess the three Bs: beauty, brain and bank.  We naturally love those who fulfil our fantasies, feed our needs, and make our lives comfortable. “Surround yourself with great people” is our accepted maxim for a successful life. We would shun those who represent the needy in society as we would like to have nothing to do with “liabilities.” Well, we think this way because we have not yet lived according to the commandment of love.

Hence, today we are reminded of our great vocation as followers of Christ-- the vocation to love.  We can make a difference in this world (and Christians are meant to make a difference!) as Mother Teresa has when we take to heart the greatest commandments and live by them.  We need to make God the center of our lives by loving Him with everything that we have and are and learn to care not only for ourselves but also for our neighbours, loving them after God’s own heart.

Perspective of Faith (30th Sunday Ordinary B)

A good friend emailed me this story:

The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him. Every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to store his few possessions.

One day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, with smoke rolling up to the sky. He felt the worst had happened, and everything was lost. He was stunned with disbelief, grief, and anger. He cried out, 'God! How could you do this to me? '

Early the next day, he was awakened by the sound of a ship approaching the island! It had come to rescue him! “How did you know I was here?” asked the weary man of his rescuers. They replied, "We saw your smoke signal."

Aahhh… how blind was he to the ways of God! What he saw was his suffering, his loss, his own grief. He failed to see the grace of God working through the flames that consumed his hut and the smoke that rolled up to the sky. He was blinded by his anger.

But indeed, it is hard to see God's ways. Human as we are, we are always short-sighted or blinded by our own personal agenda, self-centered motivations and emotional rage. It is real hard to see, for instance, beyond the suffering wrought by these supertyphoons and Covid-19 pandemic. We see our losses; we face our suffering; we endure our grief. But we are slow to understand all these and even more slow in seeing the hand of a loving and providential God in these darkest moments of our lives.

Hence, it is good to be instructed by the story of Bartimaeus in today's gospel (Mk 10: 46-52).

“What do you want me to do for you?” (v. 51), Jesus asks the blind Bartimaeus. But before we treat Bartimaeus’ response, it is good to recall that the same question has been offered by Jesus to James and John, Zebedee’s sons in last Sunday’s gospel. Their answer betrayed their personal agenda and motives. They asked for privilege and position. We recall that asked with the same question, “What do you want me to do for you?” they gave this straightforward petition: “Make sure that we sit in your glory, one at your right and the other at your left.” And we heard Jesus rebuking them, “you do not know what you are asking.” Last Sunday then we saw how Jesus’ disciples continued to fail to see the meaning of authentic discipleship. They continued to be blind as to the real meaning of Christ’s messiahship. They refused to accept the path of suffering, rejection, powerlessness, and death that the messiah, and hence his disciples, had to go through. What they had wanted to see was the fulfillment of their own personal and political ambitions. They failed to see as God sees. In a word, they were blind like Bartimaeus.

All too often, we are like Jesus’ disciples blinded by our personal motives. Our self-centeredness blinds us to God’s intentions. We see only our own agenda. We look at the world and realities and events through our human lens. No wonder we don’t understand a lot of things. We don’t see beyond the ugly surface of our sufferings. We don’t see what we gain in our losses. We don’t understand when things start to get out of our hands. We simply fail to see God’s hands.

Ironically, Bartimaeus, the blind, can point us the way forward. Mark’s Gospel presents Bartimaeus as the exemplar disciple. When asked, “What do you want me to do for you?” Bartimaeus answers, “Master, I want to see” (v. 51).  Jesus heals him and instructs him to go his way. Bartimaeus receives his sight but followed Jesus on the way.

Therefore, like him, we would do well to do three things: First, like Bartimaeus, we have to admit that we are blind in terms of recognizing the ways of God. We have to admit that we need the grace of God to see beyond our self-centered motives and agenda. We have to face the fact that our human way of seeing is often clouded by our grief and anger and, therefore, incapable of discerning God’s ways.

Second, we have to ask God fervently: “Master, I want to see.”  We have to ask God to open our eyes of faith that we may see as God sees, to open our eyes to see through the suffering that life brings and discern God’s intentions and the directions He is leading us to, and to open our eyes to see his hands working even when our hut is burning and when all that we have are destroyed by flood and relentless typhoons.

Third, like Bartimaeus, let us accept both the gift of a new perspective and the task of following Jesus. Discipleship is following Jesus precisely with this new perspective of faith and not with our initial perspective of self-centeredness. This means following Jesus in the path He has chosen-- the path of humble service, total self-giving, and sacrificial death.

Life is a Matter of What You Give (29th Sunday Ordinary B)

Relationship is a matter of giving and taking. Or we all say so. All of us seem to accept this as a matter of fact. Often we say, “In life we ​​must be prepared to give and take.” We say this so often that it becomes a favorite cliché. Do we really mean it? I think I am more to the point when, in my naughty moments, I play with this idiomatic expression and say, “Yes, life is give and take. You give, and I take. ”

“You give and I take” is probably what we really live by. However we verbalize our belief in the principle of yielding and compromise, all too often we are in fact motivated by a self-centered one-way “what's-in-it-for-me” stance. “What can I get out of this?” This is the question we pose, consciously or unconsciously, when we are at the threshold of committing to something.We commit when there's a promise of abundance for ourselves. If there is none, we gladly turn our back to it or at most give our nonchalant commitment only to fade away sooner than we think.

I find the request of James and John in today's gospel reading (Mk 10: 35-45) quite self-centered. Typical of the what's-in-it-for-me attitude. Listen to this: “Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you”(v. 35). If I were the Master, I would have retorted with my eyebrows raised, “Hey, look at you. Who do you think you are? ” These sons of Zebedee seem to have gotten it all wrong. They follow Jesus for their vested interest. Perhaps Jesus sees this opportunity to unmask the selfish motivation in these two disciples. So, very much unlike my uncharitable retort, Jesus gently asks them, “What do you wish me to do for you?” And how amazingly Jesus succeeds in ferreting out what's lurking inside these two. "Grant that in your glory we may sit one at your right and the other at your left."

Oh, how often do we sound like these two in our own prayers to the Lord! "Lord, I've been a good Christian… been faithful to your teachings… so, I ask that you give me this… you give me that." Like these two disciples, we easily tend towards the direction of what I shall call the “what's-in-it-for-me discipleship” —a discipleship that is taken in order to quench the endless thirst for privilege and rewards.

Jesus teaches James and John, and we too, his present disciples, to purify our motivations in following him. Jesus forgives our lack of understanding. He knows how hard it is for us to transcend our selfishness. So he never gets tired of guiding us. He teaches us in today's gospel that to follow him is not to expect the reward of the high and mighty positions. To follow him is to be ready to accept Jesus' cup of suffering and his baptism of death. In other words, to follow Jesus is to follow the path of humility, service, and total generosity. To follow Jesus is to give everything that we have and are.

The question that ought to guide and motivate us in all our commitments as Christians is not“What can I get out of this?” but “What can I give? What can I offer? How can I be of help? How can I make this world a beautiful place for others to live in? How can I serve the least of my brothers and sisters? ” If by God's grace our commitments are governed by these selfless motivations then we can be glad to know that we form the kind of discipleship the Lord wants — the smiling “what-can-I-do-for-you” discipleship.

As a priest, many times I catch myself in the former stance, the 'what's-in-it-for-me' attitude. I serve so that I can get my reward. Often, at the end of the day, even if I get what I expected out of my self-giving, I feel heavy, less joyful. Worse, if I don't get what I've expected, I end up disappointed and henceforth, less motivated. But in the grace-filled moments of my priesthood, when I get up and ask the world “What can I give? What can I do for you? ”, And all I can think of is to share, to give, to serve, to make this world a hopeful place for people to live in, I experience joy in its purity — one that no amount of reward can ever give.

So, I'm inclined to challenge what has become anyway a favorite cliché, ie, 'Life is a matter of giving and taking.' When we follow Jesus, never mind the 'taking' part; I think there's a grain of divine wisdom in believing that life is really a matter of what you give. Try it.

Squatters in Heaven (28th Sunday Ordinary B)

In 2009, several days after the wrath of storm Ondoy, the news on TV sent me deeply reflecting. The news was showing efforts to send the evacuees back to their homes. Several families, though, could not go home even if they were very eager to. They could not go home because there was no longer a place to go back to. They had been squatters for years. When the relentless flood forcibly drove them away, the landowner effectively secured his property and got rid of them.  “At long last,” the owner might have sighed with relief.

If you were in the shoes of the landowner would you have done the same? In times of dire need, when thousands of families, mostly poor, are displaced, hungry, thirsty, sick, afraid, and traumatized, would you do what the landowner did? Would you be so concerned about preserving your possessions that you would even thank heavens for the storm that shooed away the poor out of your sight?

I admit this is a disturbing concern especially for a serious follower of Christ. It is not that easy to let go of one’s possessions in favor of caring for the poor.  Alas! “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for the rich to enter the kingdom of God!” (Mk 10:25). With the realities cited above, it is not very difficult to understand another of Jesus’ unconventional aphorisms.

In today’s gospel (Mk 10:17-30), Jesus challenges the widely held belief of his time that the rich have the favor of God on their side which is precisely the reason for the material blessings they enjoy. The exaggeration Jesus employs is an effective way of calling the attention of the rich who have become complacent and enslaved by their material possessions. A well-meaning and religious rich man may fail to ‘inherit eternal life,’ like the rich man in today’s gospel, when he cannot let go of his material possessions to help the poor and follow Jesus. Discipleship does not consist only in a legalistic adherence to religious precepts and commandments like “Thou shall not to do this” and “Thou shall not to do that.”  For in this sense, discipleship would merely mean NOT DOING anything that is forbidden by God’s law. There is more to discipleship than this. Following Jesus means DOING something—“GO and SELL possessions,” “GIVE to the poor,” “FOLLOW Jesus” (v. 21). The rich man in the gospel went away sad; he could not do what Jesus asked of him “for he had many possessions” (v. 22). This is the essential sadness of the rich!

In plain and simple terms, the message of the gospel is this: Those who have riches have an obligation to care for those who do not. Failure to do this will bar them from eternal life. Material possessions are to be had in the spirit of stewardship.  God is the sole owner of everything. We are his stewards. We have to responsibly take care of whatever is entrusted to us for the good of all. A responsible steward delights in the abundance of material things only because it means greater capacity to share, to serve, to help, to save the needy from the evil of poverty. It means greater opportunity to exercise the responsibility he shares with the Creator in sustaining and providing for his creation.

In the Philippines, where poverty situation is becoming more and more scandalous given the fact of the concentration of the resources in the hands of a powerful few and the fact that this is a Christian country, Jesus’ teaching has clearly not been taken seriously. We are a Christian country which has gotten inured to the disturbing plight of millions of our brothers and sisters in sub-human living conditions. The poor are squatting as if God has forgotten to provide for them. No. God has not forgotten; He has endowed all humanity with the bounty of his creation so that all may have a share for all their needs. It is our greed for material possessions that has caused and perpetuated a greatly skewed distribution of resources in favor of the rich and powerful.

A story to end: A very wealthy man died and faced the gatekeeper of heaven. He was led to a shanty.

“This is your dwelling place,” the gatekeeper pointed out.

The rich man objected, “This is disgusting! This is like the houses of the squatters in my neighborhood!”

“Well,” the gatekeeper replied, “that is the house you prepared for yourself.”

He asked, “How come?! And whose is that fine mansion across the way?”

“It belongs to one of your neighbors.”

“How is it that he has a mansion and I get to live in this shanty?”

“Well, the houses here are made from the materials that people sent up. We do not choose them: You do that as much as you give on earth.”

If we continue to clench our hands because of greed for wealth and material possessions and refuse to heed the gospel’s imperative of making use of these for the needs of the poor, we might not have a place in the Kingdom of God and might end up as squatters in heaven. And it's only fair, isn't?

Love in the Time of Super Typhoons (27th Sunday Ordinary B)

(Photo from www.barangayla.org)

In 1985 the Nobel Prize-winning Colombian author Gabriel García Márquez published in Spanish his novel, Love in the Time of Cholera (Spanish: El amor en los tiempos del cólera). Some reviews consider the novel as a sentimental story about the enduring power of true love. Some say it’s a lot more complicated than that.  In any case, I would like to make an allusion to this great novel by speaking about love in the time of super typhoons. This is about love that is not only unfazed by horrible disasters but even evoked by them.

Ours is indubitably a time of super typhoons as they come one after the other unleashing their wrath punishing us again and again just when we have barely gotten to our feet from the previous blows. In the Philippines, everyone is haunted by the trauma of Ondoy, Sendong, and Yolanda to name a few. They will always remain in our memory as our collective experience of unspeakable devastation even eliciting apocalyptic fear in some of us. Yet these disasters also proved to be peak moments of manifesting the real power of love.

One can look at the sheer cruelty of the disasters and be completely overwhelmed by them. One can simply give up and admit that the end-time is at hand. But what we have observed is exactly the opposite. We have seen people rising above the disasters. We have seen people holding one another’s hands to save one another and even individuals sacrificing their own lives to rescue another. We have seen people going out of there usual comfort zones to be of help. We have seen erstwhile untapped hoarded resources now mobilized for those who need them most. In this time of super typhoons, we see vigilance; we see leadership; we see faith. We experience solidarity and we manifest the greatness of true love in the time of super typhoons.

True love shines magnificently not despite the difficulties but precisely through them. Christianity proclaims this even in the context of marriage. Hence, in today’s gospel reading (Mk 10:2-16), Jesus himself does not believe in divorce as an option when things in marriage get rough and tough. Jesus believes in the wisdom of God. God intended man and woman to be united. Such a unity cannot be separated by human power. “Therefore, what God has joined together, no human being must separate” (v. 9).

Jesus believes that true love conquers differences. Love unites not separates. Jesus believes that there are no human conflicts that love cannot overcome. If more and more people today clamor for divorce, it’s because more and more people do not truly love. They want the easy way out. In the long run, the easy way out is the way to perdition. Hence, Jesus does not preach the easy way out. He challenges Christian couples to take the hard way, the way of the cross, the way of true love. This is the love that sees them through thick and thin, the love that rises above any crisis in life. This is the kind of love we see in these times of super typhoons.

I would like to share a simple story of this kind of love in marriage that left me teary-eyed. This happened on my visit to anoint a sick friend. I entered his room. He held my hand tightly as I reach out to him. He was lying on his bed unable to move half of his body. He brought my hand to his forehead and sobbed. Then he cried out, “Father, I’m useless now. I’m a burden to my wife!”  Before this prostate problem rendered him paralyzed, I had known him as an active lay Eucharistic minister. He used to be a zealous volunteer to many and varied chore in the Church. Just as he sobbed humbled by his physical condition, his wife approached us teary-eyed but beaming with a joyful smile. She held his numb feet and let her tears flow as she said tenderly, “You are not a burden to me. It’s a joy to take care of you everyday. It’s my chance to show you how much I love you even now that we’re old and sickly.”

I must admit I was envious. Right in front of me was an unfolding of a love so noble I could only wish for in my life. Growing old with someone who has known you, warts and all, and who still cares for you with such a joyful love in the twilight of one’s life is perhaps the greatest prize of a committed marriage.

So whatever the cynics and skeptics say about marriage, the gospel today announces that marriage is beautiful. This doesn’t mean though that it’s all bed of roses. There are thorns too. Even horrible storms! But its beauty lies precisely in the everyday triumphs of a committed love over the challenges that come its way. What I had witnessed in the old couple I’ve mentioned above is a marriage strengthened by love that has certainly weathered super typhoons.

The Scandal of Hell (26th Sunday Ordinary B)

Some theologians speak of the "scandal of hell." They ask, if God is a loving God and His love is unconditional, why is there such a thing as hell? How can a faith, which "tells the world of His love," profess, at the same time, a possible state of eternal damnation?

In one of my spiritual talk among the youth, I had this conversation: "All the more that I find myself giving in to sin!" This is the remark of a young lad after listening to my talk about God’s unconditional love. "The more that you priests convince me of the love of God despite my sinfulness, the more that I tend to be lax with my moral life," he explained. "Well, in that case then we have to talk about hell!" I quipped hoping to jolt him out of his complacency.

Truly, God’s unconditional love and mercy is the good news. It’s the central message of the gospel. But hell is bad news for those who consistently refuse to respond to God’s grace and loving invitation.

God invites. Even entices. God always initiates the loving relationship. He never coerces. Coercion is love’s contradiction. Love waits and rejoices at reciprocation. Or suffers from rejection. On our part, we have the capacity to respond to God’s love freely and nurture such a joyful loving relationship. But we are capable too of rejecting his love and live in isolation from Him. When this latter option orients all of our life, we can then admit of the possibility of hell as our own making. Hell symbolizes the pain of total isolation, because of our own choosing, from the love of God.

Jesus resorts to the symbolism of hell in today’s gospel to drive home the point of the seriousness of sin and its consequences. Using Semitic hyperbole, he exaggerates the measures to be taken to avoid sin and its consequences: “If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter into life maimed than with two hands to go into Gehenna, into the unquenchable fire” (Mk. 9:43). The same formulation is used for the foot and the eye. This is a hyperbole, a literary device, which should not be interpreted literally as prescribing self-mutilation. An exaggeration is employed to obtain a jolting effect on the listeners. An exaggeration is an effective warning device. Jesus then may be trying to shake us out of our complacency and giving us the necessary warning lest we end up as victims of our lack of foresight, not seeing the grim consequence of our sins, the damning outcome of our deliberate rejection of his love.

Hell is much less mentioned in theological discourses of today than in those of yesteryears. In fact, some Christians deny its existence as it is a contradiction of our faith in God who wills that all may be saved. Contemporary theological discussions on hell, however, maintains it at least as a possibility—a logical consequence of a sinful life. It is a consummation of a life lived in sin—egoism, hatred, lust for power, pride, tyranny, etc. It is forged through a gradual day-to-day hardening of sins in one’s heart and finally cemented by the person’s definitive rejection of God as there can be no more room for love in such a heart that has totally succumbed to sin.

To preach about hell is to send warning against complacency—pretty much like the point of Al Gore’s “An Inconvenient Truth.” We ought to change our sinful ways. We need to examine and reorient our wasteful and irresponsible lifestyles. We need to evaluate and change our exploitative ways of relating with one another and with nature… Lest we precipitate the course to which we are already heading—global destruction! We all could use an ultimatum. The language and symbolism of hell may just do the trick of awakening us.

Having said this, I would like to stress once more that Christianity’s central message is God’s love and not wrath. Christian spirituality has to be a positive response to God’s invitation to a loving relationship with Him and with all of creation. As such, it is a joyful way of life. It is not out of guilt that we serve and try to be kind. It is not out of fear of hell that we tremble to worship God. We love because we are invited to be part of a loving communion. We love because we are powerfully attracted to Him who loves us unconditionally. We love because God is love and love cannot thrive in cold isolation.

The prayer of St. Francis Xavier, especially the Filipino rendition, never fails to move me. My deepest desire is to make the prayer my own. It’s my wish too for all of you, my dear friends. May we come to love Him not for the reward of heaven nor out of fear of hell. We love Him because He loved us first.

Hindi sa langit Mong pangako sa akin
Ako naaakit na kita’y mahalin.
At hindi sa apoy, kahit anong lagim,
Ako mapipilit nginig kang sambahin.
Naaakit ako ng Ika’y mamalas,
Nakapako sa krus, hinahamak-hamak.
Naaakit ng ‘Yong katawang may sugat,
At ng tinanggap Mong kamataya’t libak.
Naaakit ako ng ‘Yong pag-ibig,
Kaya’t mahal kita, kahit walang langit
Kahit walang apoy, sa ‘Yoy manginginig.
Hwag nang mag-abala upang ibigin ka.
Pagkat kung pag-asa’y bula lamang pala,
Walang magbabago, mahal pa rin kita.

Greatness in "Tsinelas Leadership" (25th Sunday B)

I recall how the untimely death of the then DILG Sec. Jesse Robredo, 2000 Ramon Magsaysay Awardee for Government Service, (May 27, 1958 – August 18, 2012), sent the whole nation to a spontaneous mourning for the loss of a great Filipino leader. But not for long the mourning turned into a celebration of a life well-lived, a life whose greatness edified thousands.

Photo grab from facebook

The greatness of this man was aptly depicted by the eulogies delivered by friends and co-workers.  One in particular described metaphorically his brand of leadership as “Tsinelas Leadership” A Pilipino word for slippers, tsinelas, as descriptive of Robredo’s leadership, captures the memories we all have of him as he served the people without frills and superfluities joining the neighbourhood in cleaning street canals, for instance, after the floods.  The greatness of Robredo’s leadership is not in being at the top of public office and position of authority but in his consistent humble identification, despite his esteemed public status, with the people below and their needs.  He was one of the few who actually lived out Jesus’ formula of greatness—servant-leadership.

In today’s gospel reading (Mk 9:30-37), Jesus instructs his disciples about servant-leadership as the road to the true greatness in the Kingdom of God. Jesus’ message is one of reproach for those who are just too happy to assume power for personal glory. As the gospel reading goes, Jesus, for the second time, predicts his eventual suffering and humiliation on the cross—a reversal of the expected power and glory of the Messiah. But still the whole point seems to escape his disciples’ understanding. Jesus finds them still preoccupied with the debate about who is the greatest among them! So Jesus, in plain and simple language, teaches them saying: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all” (v. 35). Jesus then presents a child for illustration to make the point crystal clear: In God’s reign, the tallest is the one who stoops down to serve the least, the most honorable is one who takes off the well-polished signature shoes and dons a pair of slippers to work with the poor.

Again, we discern very clearly here that Jesus’ vision of the Kingdom of God is diametrically opposed to the value system of this world. While on the one hand the secular values nudge each one of us to work tooth and nail for upward mobility going up the ladder of social hierarchy for greater power, honor, and wealth, on the other hand, the values of God’s Kingdom invite us to a free decision to take the route of downward mobility finding true greatness in humility and service of the poor.

Two related things that directly emerge from the gospel may help us deepen our discernment: Servant-leadership and preferential option for the poor.

Servant-leadership. For the most part of our life as a people, leadership has been associated with power—The power that has colonized us for centuries, the power to govern with a strong hand, the power to manipulate democratic processes to maintain one’s position “on the top of the world,” the power to control resources and wealth in the hands of the few, the power to conceal the truth. So we have come to believe as a matter of course that leadership means power to lord it over.

The lesson that Jesus teaches is simple and clear: Servant-leadership. But like the early disciples, people choose not to understand. To be great is to embrace the humble stance of a servant. A great leader, in the eyes of God, is not one who maintains at all cost one’s glory and power for one’s own sake but one who harnesses whatever influence is under his disposal for the common good. A great leader is one who serves.

Preferential Option for the Poor. Whom are we serving? We really don’t mind serving people of great stature, do we? We take pride in having served in one way or another someone we deem significant. Or we think we are serving when we attend to someone who would most likely serve us in return or pay us back in whatever form. We don’t mind going out of our way, for instance, to accommodate with great hospitality our VIP guests. But do we have the same heart toward a homeless child in the street? The child that Jesus presents in the gospel may well represent anyone or any sector in society who is helpless, powerless, nameless, dependent, insignificant, incapable of paying back—the poor.

The type of leadership we, Filipinos, have habitually embraced is one that easily indulges the needs, or more to the point, the whims of the influential and the big shots. It’s a leadership that hardly transforms the ills of society as it is slow to listen to the cry of the poor and quick to conform to the design of the powerful. Again, let us heed the wisdom of God in Jesus—if you want to be the greatest, serve the least of all! This will surely make a difference.

Hopefully, the gospel message today spurs us on to a continuing critical discernment about the brand of leaders we truly need today. May we be blest with a thousand and more leaders who subscribe to Jesus’ spirituality of downward mobility or to our pinoy version, “tsinelas leadership.”