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?  

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 do this” and “Thou shall not 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 Ordinary 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.”

To Love...To Suffer With...(24th Sunday Ordinary B)

The only explanation that holds water to the problem of our experience of suffering vis-à-vis the Christian conviction that God is love is this:  That God suffers with us. This is a significant theological insight that dawned on the German Protestant theologian Jürgen Moltmann as he was grappling with the rhyme and reason of the atrocities and horror of the World War II. In the face of the unspeakable forms of suffering he witnessed and experienced as a prisoner, he saw the cross of Christ as the answer: “God suffers with us—God suffers from us—God suffers for us.” The suffering on the cross is the highest manifestation of God’s love for us.

Jesus speaks of his suffering in today’s gospel (Mk 8:27-35). This he does right after Peter rightly confesses his belief in Jesus as the Messiah. Jesus’ ensuing forecast of his suffering exposes the inadequacy of Peter’s understanding about the meaning of his being the messiah. He rebukes Peter: “Get behind me, Satan. You are thinking not as God does, but as human beings do” (v. 33).

Peter’s initial understanding is from a human perspective. As such, it tends to be self-preserving, if not self-centered. He understands Jesus’ messiahship as other Jews who have long waited for the messiah do--in terms of power of lording it over… the power to subjugate the enemies by force. Hence, from this human perspective, suffering is unthinkable. It’s foolishness. It means weakness. It means defeat! Suffering cannot possibly be the destiny of the messiah!

But God’s ways are beyond human’s. Jesus sees his role as messiah from the mind of God. From the perspective of God, the messiah is understood in terms of a different kind of power—the power of love. And this power is at its highest expression in the total self-emptying of God in Christ. The complete self-giving of Christ on the cross, his extreme suffering and humiliation, is the utmost manifestation of the unsurpassable greatness of God’s love for us and his creation. Seen in this way, suffering is not foolishness but God’s wisdom; not a weakness but God’s very strength; not a defeat but God’s triumph.

Like Peter, we all need to be converted—from human’s ways to God’s ways. Conversion as a total change of mind and heart means putting on the perspective of God. It is in this level of consciousness that we can appreciate Jesus’ demand for discipleship. At the end of today’s gospel reading we hear Jesus summoning his disciples and us today: “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross, and follow me” (v. 34).

How else can we make sense of this demand if not through the way Jesus understands his role as a suffering messiah. Like Jesus, we are called to express our Christian love through the acid test of suffering. It’s easy to be charitable if it means giving donations to the needy. But it takes a lot of self-denial and even self-emptying (kenosis) to suffer with and for those who are suffering around us.

Right now I’m asking myself, “Can I love to the point of suffering?” “Have I suffered with and for someone?” There are millions of them who are suffering from innumerable forms of pain, misery, and affliction in the world today. The whole of creation itself is already groaning! “Have I suffered for God’s creation?” Or am I too concerned about self-preservation to see the pain of humanity and the groaning of creation around me?

We need to pray for our conversion ardently. It seems that the Christianity we are becoming in this secular and materialistic society is one that gradually forgets the cross of Christ. We pray for the grace of courage and strength--that like Jesus, we, Christians of today, may embrace the cross of suffering once more as a sublime expression of our love.

I find Fr. Manoling Francisco’s composition “Your Heart Today” both instructive and inspirational in relation to our calling to suffer with and for those who are suffering:

Where there is fear I can allay, where there is pain I can heal,
Where there are wounds I can bind, and hunger I can fill.
Lord, grant me courage, Lord, grant me strength,
Grant me compassion that I may be Your heart today.

Where there is hate I can confront, where there are yokes I can release,
Where there are captives I can free, and anger I can appease.
Lord, grant me courage, Lord, grant me strength,
Grant me compassion that I may be Your heart today.

When comes the day I dread to see our broken world,
Compel me from my cell grown cold that Your people I may behold.

(Repeat 1st Stanza)

And when I’ve done all that I could,
Yet there are hearts I cannot move,
Lord, give me hope… that I may be Your heart today.

Listen & Proclaim! (23rd Sunday Ordinary B)

The Asian Bishops (9th FABC) who gathered in Manila in August of 2009 ended the conference with a challenge to the clergy to make the Eucharist a “transformative event” for Catholics. The source of this power to transform, as the bishops intimated, is the Word of God being listened to devoutly by the faithful and proclaimed relevantly by preachers in the Eucharistic celebrations. Simply put, the call is for priests and catholic families to listen to the Word of God and to proclaim it in a relevant and nourishing way. These two complimentary acts of listening to and proclaiming the word of God can “bear the fruits of renewal.”

The acts of listening and proclaiming are the very acts that a person who is deaf and mute cannot possibly do. A deaf person cannot hear. He can’t listen. A mute person cannot speak. He cannot proclaim. Almost always, a deaf person since birth has problem speaking too. This gives us an insight into the relationship of listening and proclaiming the word of God: We can proclaim only what we have listened to.

Today’s gospel describes how Jesus heals a man who is deaf and mute. Jesus puts his finger into the man’s ears and, spitting, touches his tongue; Looking up to heaven says aloud, “Ephphatha!” (Be opened!). And the man’s ears are opened, his speech impediment removed (Mk 7:33-35). My intention is not so much to comment on the detail of Jesus’ action as to point out the significance which the evangelist Mark gives to this narrative. For Mark, the miracle is a reminder of Jesus’ ministry to the gentiles and therefore a validation of the ministry of the early church among the gentiles. This is the point of Mark: Like the gentiles, the man is both deaf and dumb towards God. Once the good news is proclaimed to him, however, his ears are opened to the word and his tongue is loosed to proclaim Jesus as the Messiah.

We need to reflect too on the import of this narrative to the people of today—to us. In what sense are we like the deaf and mute person of the narrative? In what ways are we unable to listen to God’s word and, hence, not capable of proclaiming it? Or to put it in another way, relating it to the call of the Asian Bishops, what are the challenges we are facing today that hinder us from truly listening to the word of God and proclaiming it effectively and relevantly for the renewal of our communities?

Let me suggest three challenges, three trends without promising to be exhaustive: Today we tend to be 1) activity-driven; 2) electronic technology driven; and 3) consumption driven.

Activity-driven. We always seem to be very busy. We spend all our days moving from one activity to another, accomplishing one project to another. Beating deadlines. We become addicted to achievements. We somehow tend to believe that our worth as a person is in “doing.” No more time for “being.” No more time to be still and to listen to God’s word. Much less, to proclaim it in words and deeds. No wonder, many of what we do end up as self-centered, misguided, conventional achievements that bloat our ego but have no prophetic power to change the ills of our communities. Too much of disoriented activities. Less and less of discernment. Despite the amount of energy we spent, we have not served!

Electronic technology driven. We have too much data to process. Too much information—from text messages, from emails, facebook, twitter, favorite websites, netflix, video scandals, video games, endless sites on pornography and what have you. Information come and go. We are a generation with so many distractions that we can hardly focus on the essentials. We are losing our capacity for depth and our capacity to enjoy relishing something of beauty and of value. We settle for what is fleeting and superficial. Thus, we no longer appreciate the depth and beauty of the word of God ever ancient, ever new. No wonder our lives are shallow. Despite so many data and information, we lack understanding; we lack wisdom.

Consumption driven. This consumerist society of today would have us find the meaning of life in “having”-- to have more and more of things… more shoes, more shirts, more cellphones, more of everything that is advertised. A modern credo captures this trend,  we read this sometimes on a bumper sticker: “I shop, Therefore I am.” In this consumerist trend, our capacity to listen is exercised on the endless TV advertisements. What guide our lives are no longer the truth of the Word of God but the subtle lies of advertisement and the lure of possession that we listen to day after day. Our capacity to discern is reduced to making choices among leading brands of shampoo for instance and among new fashionable gadgets that become obsolete in a year or two. And we simply become deaf to the interior promptings of the Holy Spirit--the gentle invitation of God to choose him rather than created things. Despite so many things that we possess, our life is empty!

We are like the man in today’s gospel—deaf and mute—in many and varied ways. If we Christians continue to be so, Christianity loses its power to lead people to conversion, to renew families and communities and to transform our nation because like everybody else we would just settle with the frivolity of what is conventional, superficial, and fashionable. Like the deaf and mute in today’s gospel, we need an “ephphatha experience.” We need God’s grace to open up our ears and lips for us to listen to his Word most devoutly once again and proclaim it convincingly in words and in deeds.

The message of the Asian Bishops may have been Spirit-inspired—inviting all of us to make our Eucharistic celebrations as transformative events for our lives by giving attention to the Word of God. Let us become contemplative listener of His Word. Only then we can become effective proclaimer of the good news both by our lips and our lives. We can only proclaim what we have heard.

“Lord, open my ears and loosen my tongue to hear you and proclaim your goodness in a complacent society that wants to settle only for what is conventional, superficial, and fashionable.”

Invitation to Greater Interiority (22nd Sunday Ordinary B)

Jim Wallis’ book, “The Soul of Politics” declares as it begins that “the world isn’t working.” In his introduction, Wallis reminds his reader of Mohandas Gandhi’s warning against the seven social sins: politics without principle, wealth without work, commerce without morality, pleasure without conscience, education without character, science without humanity, and worship without sacrifice. For Wallis, these social sins are alarmingly the accepted practices in societies now! Hence, the emptiness of all existing institutions. The world isn’t working. He speaks of the American context. But his assertion may not be less true in our own places.

I would like to zero in, as a springboard to our reflection, on Gandhi’s seventh social sin--“Worship without sacrifice” for today’s gospel lends itself to a deeper reflection along this theme. Worship without sacrifice, in Gandhi’s critique of society, could refer to the emptiness of the formalism of worship. Without sacrifice, worship is just a show or even a mockery. It is sacraments without Jesus Christ; rituals without genuine love of God; religion without a soul. The gospel today can be a clear precaution against the tendency of our worship to move towards empty formalism.

In today’s gospel, we see Jesus once again in conflict with the Pharisees. The Pharisees are conscientiously insistent on the utmost necessity of following the rites of washing hands before eating as an expression of fidelity to Jewish tradition on ritual purity. For them, eating without washing hands makes one unclean. But for Jesus, it is not any external impurities that defile a person. What defiles comes from within, from the heart—the inner choices in the realm of conscience.  As He declares: “Hear me, all of you, and understand. Nothing that enters one from outside can defile that person; but the things that come out from within are what defile… From their hearts, come evil thoughts, unchastity, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice…”(Mk 7:15,21).

The Pharisees are meticulously concerned about external cleanliness; whereas, Jesus exposes to them the inadequacy and hypocrisy of this when there is no accompanying interior cleanliness of the heart. The Pharisees tend to degenerate their religion into a set of elaborate external rituals to be performed religiously. Jesus criticizes them for the lack of interior genuine love of God in all those rituals. Thus, He quotes the words of the prophet Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (v.6).

When the heart is far from God, worship and religious rituals clearly become an empty and ridiculous human gesture incapable of nurturing a loving relationship with God. When the interior disposition is lacking, our liturgies and sacraments can become routines that we go through mechanically, repetitively, and, hence, meaninglessly. These liturgies cease to become real celebrations of the love and mercy of God in our lives. This scenario of an empty religion is what Jesus is most wary about.

Bishop Teodoro Bacani, facing a congregation of more or less 250 priests, once told this story to challenge his audience:

A lady came to confession. The priest asked her when her last confession was. The lady replied, “twenty years ago, Father.” The priest got angry and in a loud scolding voice said, “What?! Twenty years ago?! He continued asking for explanation angrily, “Why are you confessing only now? The lady explained with a trembling voice, “because the last time I went to confession, the priest got angry like you.”

Poor lady.  She’ll need another twenty years to muster her courage to confess once again! If this had ever happened, this could be an illustration of the sacrament of reconciliation without mercy. Jesus would be very furious witnessing this scenario.

This leads me to wonder how many of our liturgical celebrations in the parishes and chapels are real worship after the mind of Jesus. How many baptisms I’ve done became a meaningful acceptance of faith in the Lord? How many confessions really have celebrated the liberating mercy and the loving embrace of God? How many marriage ceremonies have been real celebrations of human love destined to mirror the self-sacrificing love of God? How many anointing have strengthened and consoled the sick because of the healing power of God or have helped the dying to leave with peaceful confidence?

There is really no way of measuring these. Nonetheless, today’s gospel invites us—ministers and faithful alike—to make our liturgical celebrations and rituals meaningful by bringing into them our hearts that passionately long for our loving God. When we celebrate this Eucharist, for instance, let our interior disposition be that of the psalmist who prays: “As the deer longs for streams of water, so my soul longs for you, O God” (Ps 42: 2).

The gospel today invites us towards greater interiority. We are invited not just to appear pure for everyone to see, but to really be pure inside our hearts for God to see. We are invited to make our worship not just a set of mechanical rituals but a truly meaningful way of encountering God and loving Him.

Let us not allow the dynamism of our Christian faith to degenerate into pharisaic formalism… lest we betray the Lord once more… lest we succumb to the temptation about which Gandhi expressed his warning--an empty religion—one that has no power to move individuals, animate communities, and transform societies.

Chewing the Almonds When Your Teeth Are Aching (21st Sunday Ordinary B)

A tour bus driver drives with a bus full of seniors down a highway, when a little old lady taps him on his shoulder. She offers him a handful of almonds, which he gratefully munches up. After approximately 15 minutes, she taps him on his shoulder again and she hands him another handful of almonds. She repeats this gesture about eight times.

At the ninth time he asks the little old lady why they don't eat the almonds themselves, whereupon she replies that it is not possible because of their old teeth, they are not able to chew them. "Why do you buy them then?" he asks puzzled. Whereupon the old lady answers, "We just love the chocolate around them."

The chocolate around the almonds may stand for the spiritual high and, perhaps, the prestige, or any perks, for that matter, which Christians love about in following Christ. The almonds may represent the hard and difficult core of our Christian faith—the cross and all its implications! Today’s Gospel would have us reflect on our tendency to enjoy only the ‘chocolate’ and to reject the ‘almonds’ of discipleship.

“This saying is hard; who can accept it” (Jn. 6:60)? This was the murmur of many disciples who were listening to Jesus and who found his words difficult to accept. Many of these gave up following Jesus and “returned to their former way of life” (v. 66); after all, they were following Jesus to get what they had been expecting from him—bread and political liberation. But Jesus refused to be the Messiah of their expectations. So when they had enjoyed the chocolate, they threw the almonds away.

The Twelve disciples, however, did not follow suit. When asked if they would want to leave, Peter answered that they had nowhere else to go but to Jesus who had the words of eternal life (v.68). The twelve disciples are the exemplar of a committed discipleship—accepting even the cross of following Jesus. Later on, their own lives as martyrs would become powerful testimonies of their faith in Jesus!

This reality of the two types of disciples in Jesus’ time invites us to examine the quality of our own brand of discipleship today. This allows us to speak of ‘cheap’ discipleship on the one hand and, on the other, of ‘costly’ discipleship-- or for fun, 'chocolate discipleship' and 'almonds discipleship' respectively.

Cheap discipleship means following Jesus to satisfy our personal needs and agenda. This is the kind of discipleship that enjoys only the chocolate but rejects the almonds because they are difficult to chew. It is following the Jesus of our expectations but not the real Jesus who demands conversion and transformation. Disciples of this kind will readily leave Jesus and his values behind when confronted with difficult demands of faith. Or at most, this kind of Christians will be good at compromising the faith with other perceived values of their own interest. In other words, cheap discipleship is one that does not involved self-sacrifice, only self-nurturance. A very good example perhaps are Christians who ride on the crest of ‘spiritual high’ but who never come down to see the real demands of faith in working for social charity and justice.

Costly discipleship, on the other hand, means following Jesus despite the difficult demands of faith. This is chewing the almonds when your teeth are aching. This means a hundred percent commitment to the person of Jesus and the values of the Kingdom he announced. This means not taking the easy way out when things get rough and tough. Like the twelve apostles, the disciples of this kind believe that only Jesus possesses the words of eternal life.

Hence, the Christians who manifest this brand of costly discipleship maintain their fidelity in their married life despite the convenient options of the culture of divorce or culture of ‘kabit’ in society. These Christians find joy and even pride in being chaste in this age that glorify sexual promiscuity or, at the least, sexual permissiveness. They live a simple lifestyle or even a contemporary form of asceticism precisely as a counterculture to a mindless consumerist society of today. They manifest respect for integrity of creation and even fight for it against the onslaught of exploitative development purportedly pushed for economic gains for the sake of the poor. In this country, these followers of ‘costly discipleship’ strive to be honest when the norm is becoming more and more that of corruption.

Our country is in dire need of people who would embrace this ‘costly discipleship’ in order to transform our society according to the values of God’s Kingdom. This is not an easy task. This calls for a lot of self-sacrifice… for a hundred percent commitment to the words of Jesus… for hope when it seems impossible to change things for the better… for the courage to chew the almonds when your teeth are aching.

This calls for a brave and honest answer to Jesus’ question in today’s gospel: “Do you also want to leave?”

Quest for Eternal Life (20th Sunday Ordinary B)

Was it in the mid-90s that we heard of the health product “Forever Living?” It is a variety of food supplements that promise better health and, therefore, longer life. The name even bears the audacious suggestion of immortality! No wonder that a good number of people have been taking it even if its maintenance costs them an arm and a leg. After all, life is precious.

Among the hoi polloi though who couldn’t afford expensive health supplements, Ernie Baron, known to be the “walking encyclopedia,” popularized his “Pito-Pito”— a blend of seeds or leaves of seven traditional medicinal plants—as a cure-all tea for health problems.

To date, countless health products mushroomed in the market, the latest being that of a stem-cell booster to keep our cells and tissues young. What a wonder! Good news for the “baby boomers” who wish to feel and look a generation younger.

Despite the “culture of death” that is gradually creeping in, e.g. the conspiracy of legalizing measures that suppress the flourishing of life, I believe, humanity’s love for life is inextinguishable. We all see this as people swim for dear life and heroically rescue one another in the face of super typhoons and heavy rains that have flooded thousands of houses. Needless to say, we see life as precious. And not only that, the human spirit will always refuse to die as it has an incontrovertible sense of its eternal destiny.

The gospel reading this Sunday (Jn 6:51-58) is the third sequel of the Bread of Life discourse. This is already the third Sunday that we’ve been reflecting on the theme: Jesus, the Bread of Life. This gospel is the real good news. It has to say about the human spirit’s quest for eternal life.

I think, for all of us who consciously or unconsciously desire to live forever, the gospel today has something to offer that food supplements and health tea cannot. Jesus’ body is the “true food” and his blood the “true drink.” The gospel promises that whoever eats the flesh of the Son of Man and drinks his blood has eternal life (v. 54).

I would like us to reflect more deeply on that promise of eternal life. Almost always we take “eternal life” to mean everlasting life or, as the name of the food supplement suggests, “forever living.” And this is to be experienced in the hereafter. People are always concerned about the length of life. But essentially eternal life is more about the quality of life than just about the length. For who would want longevity if such a life, corrupted by sin, is not worth living on the first place?

Essentially eternal life is divine life. Jesus explains in today’s Gospel, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me (vv.56-57). So Jesus is actually sharing the divine life he received from the Father to whoever receives him. Jesus is sharing with us the quality of life that is divine.

When we receive the Lord in our life, first in baptism and in the Eucharist, we are given new life and this is sharing in the divine life, for we remain in him and he in us. How do we live out this divine life? I think the answer is: To live as God lives, i.e., to love! Deus Caritas Est. “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him” (1 Jn 4:16). Pope Benedict’s encyclical Deus Caritas Est describes God’s love as agape—a self-sacrificing love… a love that forgives… even on the cross!

The kind of life that Jesus is giving us is the life that is characterized by agape. And this is the highest quality of life one can ever have! This is a life of self-giving rather than self-serving, a life of forgiving rather than forsaking and hating. Without Jesus, the true food and the true drink, this highest quality of life would be impossible for the sinful and self-centered human being. But with him we can have eternal life, his divine life the essence of which is love. We can have it in the “here and now” and in the hereafter.

Forever living also means forever loving! We will still die of course... naturally. But the death of someone who has lived the life of Christ is but a glorious culmination of a life well-spent and a birth to the everlasting life where one permanently shares in the eternal agape of God.

Unless God Draws Us (19th Sunday Ordinary B)

On a spiritual retreat, a committed lay campus minister reflected on her relationship with God particularly the aspect of her prayer life. She pointed out that in the early years of her relationship with God she tended to be in control. When she prayed, she did it in her own terms seeking for the results she expected to get, looking for consolation as reward and for deep spiritual insights as evidence of her spiritual growth. However, she realized she was forcing it and such an attitude had been somehow frustrating and tiring. She had to change her way of relating to God and her attitude even in prayer. Once she learned the humility of letting go of the helm, she stopped demanding from God and allowed God to be God. This allowed her to see prayer not in terms of results but in terms of a free encounter with God in God’s term. Now she lets God lead her. In her prayer life, results are irrelevant now; being in prayer is itself the consolation as she allows God to draw her into God’s loving presence.

There is a world of difference between being driven and being drawn. Being driven is an experience of being compelled, pushed, or forced. One is driven by hunger to steal; another is driven by anger to violence; a religious person may be driven by results to pray; many of us may be driven by our need to accomplish and need to succeed that is why we serve.

On the other hand, being drawn is an experience of gentle attraction, an experience of allowing oneself to be enticed and to be led. A person who is drawn does not control, nor demand, but allows. When one is drawn, such person participates in and not directs the experience.

In the gospel reading today (Jn 6:41-51) which is part of the Bread of Life discourse, Jesus displays awareness of these two dynamics. He observes how the Jews are driven by hunger and by curiosity that is why they keep on following him. They are driven by their own expectations and hence fail to see the truth in itself! They see only the bread miraculously multiplied and not the Bread of Life. They see only Jesus, the son of the carpenter, and fail to see Jesus, the Son of God that has come down from heaven. Hence, they end up dissatisfied, still hungry, and murmuring (v. 42).

To this people Jesus explains, “No one can come to me unless the Father who sent me draws him” (v. 44). Here lies the secret of our friendship with God. God always does the initiative. We do not find God by ourselves and love him. Rather, He draws us to himself and we allow ourselves to be led. God loves us first and we embrace him as our loving response to his initiative. In our friendship with the Lord, we are not driven; we are drawn.

Discernment then becomes essential in a relationship that is not driven but drawn. For us not to be driven by our own impulses and by external forces that oblige us, we need to be discerning. We need to hear, see, and understand the invitation of God for us. As Jesus asserts in the gospel: “Everyone who has heard the Father and learned from him comes to me” (v. 45).

Discernment is seeing the goodness of God in our life and hence being attracted to Him. The psalm exclaims, “Taste and see how good the Lord is” (Ps 34: 9). The invitation then is to let God draw us to himself by participating in his goodness as we experience and discern it in life.

In life, am I driven or drawn?

When I go through life, do I blindly follow my own impulses and move from one concern to another depending on what is driving me? Am I always on the go beating deadlines I set for myself, driven by my need to succeed and to be affirmed? Do I measure the meaning of my life and work by accomplishments and expected results?

Or do I allow God to lead me where He wants me to go? Am I confident in what I do because, in my discernment, I felt God has drawn me into it? Is my life a grateful response to the goodness of God?

A driven person may have the likelihood of success in this world. More money, more power, more fame. A drawn person may not be able to display this glamour. But the fundamental difference is that the driven person, after all what he has gained, may still end up with a big void that no amount of worldly success can fill up. He may be like the people in Jesus’ time, dissatisfied, still hungry, and murmuring! On the other hand, the person who has allowed himself to be drawn by God is certainly fulfilled, satisfied, blissfully contented in life. After all, every moment for him has been that of tasting and seeing the goodness of God.