Humility (22nd Sunday Ordinary C)

In 2007, a Jesuit missionary ended his forty three years of service in what was then the Prelature of Ipil. Fr. Angel Antonio was to be transferred to another assignment. He was willing to leave even if obviously his heart belonged to the mission area where he spent most of his life serving the poor and building their communities. At his farewell party, he was given the opportunity to share his farewell message. People expected him to speak about his great contributions to the local church, describing perhaps his heroic dedication to the mission and the long litany of his sacrifices. But no, this great missionary had only a few words to say. 

He stood up and said something like this, “I have only three words to say: First, thank you for the opportunity given me to serve; Second, I’m sorry for all my failings. You call me Fr. Angel, but I hadn’t always been an angel to you; and lastly, goodbye and pray for me as I face another chapter of my ministry.”

I was misty-eyed looking at the figure of the old man. What humility he had shown! Forty three long years of missionary service and he summed it all up with only a couple of minutes of farewell message devoid of fanfare and self-glorification.

Our readings today allow us to ponder on an essential Christian virtue, humility. In the light of the readings, two perspectives can help us deepen our reflection on the virtue: First, humility as the way to greatness; second, humility as a preferential love for the poor.

Humility as the way to greatness. This has always been an important paradox of our Christian life: In order to be great, one has to be the least of all. The first reading reminds us of this as it says, “Humble yourself the more, the greater you are, and you will find favor with God” (Sir 3:18). Similarly, the gospel reading (Lk 14:1, 7-14) expresses the same paradoxical teaching of our Lord: “For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted” (v. 11). Humility is the way to find favor with God; humility leads to exaltation by God.

The parable told by our Lord about the conduct of the invited guests and hosts at a banquet illustrates this truth as well. “Rather, when you are invited, go and take the lowest place so that when the host comes to you he may say, ‘My friend, move up to a higher position.’ Then you will enjoy the esteem of your companions at the table” (v. 10).

As a parable this is not to be taken literally as instructions governing table etiquette on where to sit when you are invited at parties. “Sitting at the lowest place” refers to a humble disposition that does not seek honor and glory for oneself. It is a disposition of dependence on God’s graciousness. We do not glorify ourselves; it is God, the Host of the heavenly banquet, who honors and exalts those who have been selfless and humble.

Humility is based on an honest acceptance of ourselves; hence, our business is to be truthful and faithful to who we are and what we can do given our gifts and limitations neither belittling nor boasting ourselves and our accomplishments. And it is God’s business to honor and exalt anyone He sees fit.

Do we possess this disposition of honest self-acceptance and dependence on God’s graciousness? If we do, we are on our way to greatness.

Humility as a preferential love for the poor. In today’s gospel, the Lord ends his parable with an instruction to the host who invited him: “…Rather, when you hold a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind; blessed indeed will you be because of their inability to repay you. For you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (v.13-14).

Almost always we invite to our table those whom we regard with high esteem because their presence buoys our self-esteem too. We invite those who are close to our hearts and those whom we consider our friends as their presence brings us joy. But for the Lord, humility consists in our preferential love for the poor. He invites us to offer our table to those who are least in society. He invites us to regard the poor with high esteem, to allow them to be close to our hearts and to be our friends.

We take pride in our association with the famous, influential, and wealthy people probably because it feels good to belong to their circle. Besides, our association with them is a social asset. Christian humility invites us to take pride in our friendship with the unknown, voiceless, and poor people and be at ease spending time with them seeing them not as asset nor liability but as persons and as children of God with the same dignity as everyone else.

Are we friends of the poor? 

Doors (21st Sunday Ordinary C)

from cheaptherapy.wordpress.com

In her book, Open the Door, a contemporary spiritual writer, Joyce Rupp creatively explores the many and varied ways through which the image of a door can help us in our inner journey to our true selves. At first, she invites her readers to open the door of their hearts in order to discover the still unraveled beauty and truth within them and even to encounter the Divine Presence within. Later, she counsels them too to have the courage, at some crucial points in life, to close the door as a decisive act of leaving behind everything that hinders their growth towards authenticity and fuller union with God.

There is, indeed, a time to open and a time to close the door. An open door invites and welcomes; a closed door protects that which is cherished inside and excludes the unwanted. This gives us insight into the spiritual rhythm of opening and closing the invisible door of our hearts.

The image of a door is used by Jesus in today’s gospel reading (Lk 13:22-30). To the question whether only few people will be saved Jesus responds quite obliquely with the images of a narrow door and a closed door:

“Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough. After the master of the house has arisen and locked the door, then will you stand outside knocking and saying, ‘Lord, open the door for us’” (v. 24-25).

Image of a Narrow Door. The image of the narrow door conveys both opportunity and difficulty. It invites yet it suggests some degree of struggle. Hence, approaching the narrow door is not by a leisurely walk as strolling in a park. It demands resolve and commitment to give one’s best to be able to enter.

The door to salvation is open for all. Everyone is invited to enter but is reminded of the necessity of striving hard as the passage to salvation is made difficult by our proclivity to sin. God’s grace and mercy is offered for all but our blind sinful inclinations may continue to reject this precious gift; our self-centeredness and foolish pride continues to glorify nothing but ourselves; our attachment to things, power, and fame may rob us of our freedom to choose God. Hence, Jesus warns us of this tendency to be complacent and evokes our free commitment to choose God as our fundamental orientation in our everyday life.

Image of a Closed Door. The closed door further conveys a day of definitive reckoning when those who persisted in their evil deeds will be excluded from the kingdom of God.  “And there will be wailing and grinding of teeth when you see Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and all the prophets in the kingdom of God and you yourselves cast out” (v. 28). With the image of a locked door, Jesus delivers his caution with a twist of irony for those who tend to live with an easy assurance of salvation out of privilege. Jesus warns that those who have enjoyed proximity to the master, those who “ate and drank” in his company, will not be acknowledged by the master after all because of their evil deeds. They will be locked out. While people from afar, from the east and west, from the north and south, will have their place at the table in the eschatological banquet.

Salvation, then, is not a matter of privilege given to chosen elite who enjoyed familiarity and physical proximity to the Lord like the Jewish people. Salvation is an invitation given to all people, i.e. even to the gentiles. What it requires is a personal response. The theological question concerning the number of those who will be saved is not actually important after all. What matters most is the existential striving and personal commitment of every person to respond to the invitation through his moral decisions and actions in life.

The Door of our Hearts. It is not farfetched, hence, to say that the image of the narrow or closed door may appropriately represent the door of our hearts. More often than not, we are the ones making it difficult for God’s love and mercy to enter our hearts. Many times we shut Him out because we desire other things in life; we close the door of our hearts because we are afraid to let God take control of our lives. So exteriorly we try to live as near as possible to God but our hearts remain distant.  We carry the name of Christ as his baptized disciples and we spend our time in pious devotions calling him, “Lord, Lord…” but we never care to discern in our hearts his will, much less, to live it out in loving obedience.  

Joyce Rupp asks her readers to open the door of their hearts. Let us open our hearts to God. We will be surprised how well He fits in, for His love and mercy is our heart’s ultimate delight. Rupp also reminds of the necessity of closing the door.  Let us then muster our courage to close the door of our hearts to our self-centeredness and pride and to all our hurts caused by sin.

  

The Fire of Jesus (20th Sunday Ordinary C)

Fire is dangerous. We all learn this important lesson early on in life. In my case I learned it with fear and trembling as a helpless child having to witness the small town of Ipil being razed in fire. I saw this awesome power of fire not only once. Ipil was set on fire again on mysteriously the same date, May 11 of one of the ensuing years. And this was not it. On April 4, 1995, as a grown-up, I survived the “Ipil Massacre” during which the town was set ablaze once more by the Abu Sayaff terrorists and was reduced to ashes.

It’s no small wonder that I and many others would have a hard time dealing with Jesus of today’s gospel (Lk 12:49-53). Jesus announces his mission of setting the earth on fire: “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing!” (v. 49).  What?! Is this really Jesus speaking?

The Danger of Discipleship. Our difficulty most probably stems from a sanitized image of Jesus. We have gotten used to seeing Jesus as kind, meek, and merciful. We would imagine him probably as gentle and soft-spoken. And we have come to love Jesus the nice guy. What more, for many, they prefer to deal exclusively with the cute Santo Niño as he is absolutely adorable and fun to relate with. With this favorite but deficient Christological view, we certainly cringe at the thought that Jesus and what He stands for is actually dangerous. And unless we face the truth that Jesus’ mission is dangerous, we will never see the meaning of today’s gospel and we will never know Jesus deeper and hence we will never become his true disciples.  

While gentleness and compassion especially towards the lowly and the suffering are truly Jesus’ qualities, He was nonetheless firm and disturbing towards the self-righteous and the conceited. For the oppressors of the little ones, Jesus was indeed dangerous. His eventual lot on the cross speaks volume about how the world wished and plotted to put off the dangerous fire of Jesus. Jesus’ friends and close followers had a real sense of the danger of standing for Christ and his message.  But they embraced him with total dedication. John the Baptist lost his head. Peter was crucified upside down. Most of the apostles and disciples were persecuted and died as martyrs. Hundred other followers ended up as Nero’s torches.

Today, we tend to turn a blind eye to this disconcerting aspect of Christ and his message. We want a cozy type of discipleship. We want security and comfort. We pray only for blessings. We don’t want a share of the cross. The first homily of Pope Francis was more to the point as he warned his audience: "When we walk without the Cross, when we build without the Cross, and when we profess Christ without the Cross, we are not disciples of the Lord. We are worldly; we are bishops, priests, cardinals, Popes, but not disciples of the Lord.” Pope Francis surely inspires us. He is on fire.

Transformative Christian Message. Fire is not only dangerous. It is also an awesome force of transformation. Nothing that fire touches remains ever the same. Whatever is set on fire is bound to change. Each time the town of Ipil was set on fire, the town was never the same again. The old structures were consumed and turned into ashes. But new and better structures arose later.

Jesus and his message are transformative. Jesus disturbs and calls for change. When He declares how He wants to see the earth ablaze and announces that He brings not peace but division, Jesus is saying: “Do not think that I came to leave you in peace, no, I came to disturb, to upset and to change things. The world will never be the same after I have thrown fire on it” (John Fuellenbach, Throw Fire).

The dangerous fire of Jesus is meant to consume the world’s old structures of sin dominated by evil, self-centeredness, pride, greed, injustices, etc. And how we all should wish with Jesus that these were already blazing so that transformation may come! How we all should wish that the new structures of grace were put in place, that love reigns with justice and peace for the people of God. How we all should feel the anguish of our Lord until the reign of God takes hold of the entire world.

Spirituality of Social Transformation. Are our hearts burning with the fire of Jesus? We can only answer yes when we courageously embrace the danger of being a follower and when we assume the same transformative vision of Jesus. Many a Christian have grown cold and bored because they just want to stay in the safety of their comfort zones concerned solely about the good of the self.  Again Pope Francis warns the Church of this same sickness and wishes her to risk:

“We need to come out of ourselves and head for the periphery… It is true that going out onto the street implies the risk of accidents happening… But if the Church stays wrapped up in itself, it will age… and if I had to choose between a wounded Church that goes out onto the streets and a sick withdrawn Church, I would definitely choose the first one.”

To have the fire of Jesus in our hearts is to be disturbed, shaken, and awakened from the slumber of our passivity or even apathy in the midst of the world’s sinfulness and neglect of the weak. Kindling the fire of Jesus in our hearts is an invitation to a spirituality of social transformation—a spirituality that brings the rich resources of our Christian faith outside the confines of the beautiful adoration chapels onto the streets, the slum, the malls, the halls of power, and everywhere. This spirituality is dangerous and risky. But we have to embrace it, as did the close friends of Jesus, if we were to be faithful to the Lord who wishes to set the earth on fire and to see it blazing.

Vigilance (19th Sunday Ordinary C)

What would you be doing if today were to be your last day?

Perhaps you would drop all your non-essential preoccupations and spend your precious time, instead, with your loved ones to tell them you love them. Or visit your friends and thank them for the joy and support they have given you throughout life. Ask forgiveness from those whom you have caused pain and forgive those who have hurt you. Donate your possessions to those who are in need. Entrust everything to God as you spend silent moments in prayer. Etc.

When we are given a deadline in life, we gain a new perspective. We see things—the essential things—more clearly. And we gain a sense of urgency to fulfill these essential things lest we end up with irremediable regrets. But the problem is we don't often have a sense of deadline in life. We peacefully live with the illusion that we always have more time to do what is important, so that many of us have developed a ma ñana habit, eternally postponing for tomorrow what we ought to do today. Still some of us resort to sloth, or the " Juan Lazy " way of life, having less and less enthusiasm and energy for life's purpose and mission. Still others wait for the last minute to act, so they are always panicky and stressed rushing things in order to beat the deadline as it comes.

Vigilance. The gospel today (Lk 12:32-48) gives us that sense of deadline by reminding us of the coming of the Son of Man. Biblical scholarship suggests two meanings of this coming: One is the Parousia which is the second coming of Christ as our Judge to put a conclusion to the narrative of history and the other is the coming of our Lord in our personal death to conclude our earthly pilgrimage. In the parable of the servants awaiting their master's return from a wedding (v. 35-38), the servants are exhorted to be vigilant and prepared for the hour of the master's coming. The subsequent parable of the unexpected coming of a thief (v. 39-40) makes the point clear that the moment of the coming of the Son of Man is unknown: "You must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come" (v. 40).

Hence, we know there is a deadline but we don’t know when exactly is that moment when we will have to face our ultimate Judge either as a people or as an individual. The message then is clear: We must be prepared at all times. This is what vigilance means. Our universal call to holiness, to goodness, to human responsibility, to integrity, to love must be heeded not at the eleventh hour of our lives. In the first place, we often do not know when the eleventh hour is. Our call has to be heeded every day. We ought to fulfill what kind of persons we are called to become each and every day of our lives.  We cannot afford to procrastinate and decide to be good, generous, honest, holy and loving when we are already old and about to die. Our invitation is to develop habitual dispositions of goodness, integrity, holiness and love. This is how we make ourselves prepared always for the coming of the Lord.

Our initial question about what we would do on our last day is after all not a good question to start with. For it is not what we do on our last days that we are asked to be concerned about. That we should hurriedly catch up on doing important matters on the eleventh hour just betrays our lack of enthusiasm, sincerity, and commitment to our responsibilities as we moved on with life. Rather, it is what we have become at the end of our lives that counts most as we face our Judge. The process of becoming is not done on a single day or on the last day. The process requires every day. We become the kind of persons the Lord calls us to be as we commit to the values of the Kingdom every single day of our lives. This is vigilance.

What kind of person you shall have become when the Lord comes? This may guide and inspire us better to be faithful to our commitments every day.

Faithfulness and Prudence of a Steward. The last of the parables in today’s gospel (v. 42-48) suggests that upon his arrival the Master looks for his faithful and prudent steward. If He finds him being so, the Master will put him in charge of all his property. But if that servant abuses his Master’s trust, the Master will come unexpectedly and will mete out severe punishment and will assign this worthless servant “a place with the unfaithful.”

We are asked to become a faithful and prudent steward. What have we been entrusted with by the Lord? It is important that we understand that whatever is given us is meant for the service of God’s people. The authority, wealth, talents, skills, and other charisms we may have been given ought not to be abused through irresponsibility and self-centeredness. All of these are entrusted to us that we may serve well. We have to develop them and use these gifts every day not only for our own good but for the good of others and for the greater glory of the Master.  

When the Master arrives unexpectedly, be it on Judgment Day or on our own personal death, may we be found ready and worthy to be entrusted with all God's heavenly treasures, ready and worthy to recline at the table of God's heavenly banquet.

Of Vanities and Foolishness (18th Sunday Ordinary C)

Somebody sent me this piece of thought via facebook : The three stages of life—Teens. You have all the time and energy but no money; Workers. You have money and energy but no time; Oldies. You have money and time but no energy.

If the meaning of life were to be sought in purely materialistic terms, there is the inevitability of ending up with a pessimistic conclusion: Life is absurd and tragic. When the Dalai Lama was asked what surprised him most about humanity, he said: “Man. Because he sacrifices his health in order to make money. Then he sacrifices money to recuperate his health. And then he is so anxious about the future that he does not enjoy the present; the result being that he does not live in the present or the future; he lives as if he is never going to die, and then dies having never really lived.”

The pessimism of Qoheleth in the first reading (Eccl 1:2; 2:21-23) expresses too the meaninglessness of man’s toil and anxiety of heart, as he would just leave his property to another who has not worked for it. For Qoheleth, “all things are vanity!” This pessimism propels us to search further for the enduring meaning of life. If material things and preoccupation with them leave our life in vain, what, then, makes a meaningful commitment and occupation in life?

The gospel reading (Lk 12:13-21) further presents what comprises our human folly. Christians ought to be wary of these three related forms of foolishness: Greed, Hedonism, and Materialism.

Greed.  Jesus, in the gospel, teaches the crowd: “Take care to guard against all greed, for though one may be rich, one’s life does not consist of possessions” (v. 15). Greed is a selfish insatiable desire for more material things, more wealth, more possessions. At heart, it is a disordered love for created things. It is not farfetched, then, for St. Paul to regard greed as a form of idolatry (Col 3:5). Greed is foolishness because it loves deliriously the wrong object. This disordered love leads to frustration and not satisfaction: “Greed is a bottomless pit which exhausts the person in an endless effort to satisfy the need without ever reaching satisfaction“ (Erich Fromm).

Hedonism. The parable of the rich fool alludes too to the foolishness of the hedonist philosophy in life. The character in the parable hoards his bountiful harvest in his new and larger barns and plans for a life of comfort and pleasure. The rich fool says to himself: “Now as for you, you have so many good things stored up for many years, rest, eat, drink, be merry!” There are people who subscribe to a philosophy that glorifies pleasure as the principle of a meaningful life.  Yet experience tells us that pleasure are passing and does not makes us truly happy. Making it the ultimate goal in life leads to suffering because it only ushers us to an endless cycle of frustrating attempts to satisfy our desires. The cycle can lead to destructive patterns of addiction and all of life may be wasted.

Materialism.  The parable concludes with the reminder of the foolishness of materialism: “You fool, this night your life will be demanded of you; and the things you have prepared, to whom will they belong?” (v. 20).  Our contemporary lifestyle is materialistic. We are made to believe, by way of advertisements, that a good life is one that has acquired the latest gadgets, cars, and stuffs. Hence, we get up every day pursuing “earthly treasures,” accumulating more and more of material things.  We ignore the deepest longing and spiritual yearning of our hearts, hence we are never happy. And we will never be, as long as we persist in our foolish quest: “Thus will it be for the one who stores up treasure for himself but is not rich in what matters to God” (v. 21).

In both the first reading and the gospel, the death of the man whose life is preoccupied with material pursuit exposes the vanity and foolishness of such preoccupation. Death, indeed, reveals to us what is essential. It gives us a clear perspective. I would like to suggest two Christian perspectives discernible in our readings today as our invitation: Christian Stewardship and the perspective of freedom.

Stewardship.  Material possessions and wealth are not evil in themselves. Rather, they are gifts entrusted to us by the abundance of nature and God’s providence. They have instrumental value. They are a means to our end, not our goal itself. They help us fulfill our mission. When material things are entrusted to us, we are invited to be a responsible steward. In the spirit of gratitude and generosity then, we are to share what we have been given to those who are in need.  Sharing becomes our way of loving. And we don’t love things; we love God and neighbor.

Freedom.  In this materialistic era, Christians ought to heed the gospel’s invitation to grow in freedom—freedom from and freedom for.  We need to be freed from our greed which enslaves us to our material desires. When our possessions possess us, we become slaves and no longer responsible stewards. We need to grow in our freedom from our inordinate attachments to created things. This allows us to be free for the Creator himself.  Real freedom is freedom for God, that capacity to choose God as our fundamental option and to love God above all else with ease. We are invited to grow in this ability to commit to “what matters to God,” to expend our energies in toiling for what endures—the real treasures in heaven.

When life is unreflected, it is not worth living. But when it is lived according to the gospel values, life finds its enduring meaning. It ceases from becoming a pitiful affair of vanities and foolishness.

 

Teach Us to Pray (17th Sunday Ordinary C)

Many people today do not pray. The commonest reason perhaps is this: “I’m too busy.” There are just too many concerns and demands from work and too little time. Another reason is from the restless young people: “Prayer is boring. We want adventure.” Perhaps those who used to pray but have experienced some unanswered prayer would say: “I’m tired of praying. Prayer doesn’t work.” Those who believe in the Omniscience of God assume that God knows their needs. So there’s no need to pray; God provides anyway. And those who have an “I-did-it-my-way” complex assert their independence and self-sufficiency. For them, to bend one’s knees in prayer is a sign of weakness. Still others do not pray simply because they don’t know how.

Whatever our reasons for not praying are, we need to realize, as the gospel reading today (Lk 11:1-13) reminds us, that Jesus Himself, the Son of God, the Anointed One, the Savior of the world, always found time to be alone in prayer. Jesus believed in the power of prayer and saw its utmost importance as an integral part of his life and mission. Hence, he taught his disciples how to pray.

In Jesus’ teachings on prayer in the gospel reading today and in Abraham’s persistent haggling with God in the first reading, we can discern some forms of prayer and some essential inner dispositions that we ought to consider for the growth of our prayer life.

Praise and Worship. The “Lord’s Prayer” may be seen as having two parts. The first part consists of praising and worshiping God as our Father whose name we glorify and whose reign we desire in our lives. As our Father, He is acknowledged as the source of what we have and are. We accept his sovereignty in heaven and on earth. Jesus himself had always submitted to the will of the Father. His life was a constant praise and worship of the Father.

Don’t we have our own reasons for praising and worshipping God, our Father? When we honestly take account of our blessings in life, it would be but a natural overflow of joy, gratitude and awe that we praise and worship the Lord. I’ve seen and joined some faithful who dance and sing with gusto their praises to the Almighty and All-loving God. It has always been an exhilarating experience, far from being boring.

Petition. The second half of the prayer of Jesus is focused on our needs. We call them petitions. We ask for our present needs, our daily bread. We ask for forgiveness of our past--our debts, trespasses, and forms of sinfulness as we commit to be forgiving to others too. And we ask to ensure our future with God by our deliverance from the evil one. In this prayer, we acknowledge that our present, past, and future depend on the graciousness and mercy of God.

Intercession. When our petitions go beyond our own needs and express the needs of others, we are offering intercessory prayers. We pray on behalf of others. We find ourselves doing this because we care for others. We are a community. We are one family. We have a common Father in heaven. The first reading (Gen 18:20-32), for instance, recounts how Abraham interceded for the people of Sodom. He persistently haggled with God, trying to save the sinful people from the impending destruction. The story shows that God actively listens to Abraham’s intercession.

A good model of petition and intercession is Pope Francis’ simple method of prayer using one's fingers:

"The thumb is the closest finger to you. So start praying for those who are closest to you. They are the persons easiest to remember. To pray for our dear ones is a “sweet obligation.”

“The next finger is the index. Pray for those who teach you, instruct you and heal you. They need the support and wisdom to show direction to others. Always keep them in your prayers.”

“The following finger is the tallest. It reminds us of our leaders, the governors and those who have authority. They need God’s guidance.”

“The fourth finger is the ring finger. Even that it may surprise you, it is our weakest finger. It should remind us to pray for the weakest, the sick or those plagued by problems. They need your prayers.”

“And finally we have our smallest finger, the smallest of all. Your pinkie should remind you to pray for yourself. When you are done praying for the other four groups, you will be able to see your own needs but in the proper perspective, and also you will be able to pray for your own needs in a better way."

Persistent Disposition. The parable of the importunate friend in today’s gospel highlights an important disposition in prayer: Persistence. Not that God requires to be badgered before He listens to our cries, but that our perseverance reveals the true desire of our hearts. We desire many things and many of which are not essential. Only that which is truly essential keeps us motivated and persevering. As we persevere in prayer, we realize that it is God himself, not just his blessings, that our heart yearns. This yearning cannot be turned down by a God who has yearned for us first and foremost.

Trust in God. Another essential disposition in prayer is trust in the goodness and wisdom of God. God is our Father; He is all-good and all-wise. If a sinful earthly father can still be trusted to provide good things to his children, how much more is the heavenly Father worthy of our total trust? When we pray then, we are entrusting our heart’s desire to the care of our loving and wise Father. I think this disposition of trust is what made Mother Teresa assert: “Prayer is not asking. Prayer is putting oneself in the hands of God…”

If still we don’t find ourselves drawn to prayer, let us make just one humble petition: Lord, teach us to pray.

The Better Part (16th Sunday Ordinary C)

Today’s Gospel (Luke 10:38–42) brings us into the warm and familiar home of two sisters: Martha and Mary. Jesus, their beloved friend, comes to visit, and like any of us welcoming a guest—especially someone as special as the Lord!—there’s excitement, preparation, and, yes, a bit of stress. We can picture Martha bustling about: checking the bread, stirring the pot, setting the table. And Mary? She’s doing something unexpected… she's just sitting there—at Jesus’ feet—listening.

And suddenly, we find ourselves drawn into this quiet tension between action and stillness, between doing and being. Between Martha and Mary.

Listening to Jesus is our first call. The Gospel tells us that Mary “sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying” (v. 39). This wasn't laziness or avoidance. In fact, in the culture of the time, sitting at the feet of a rabbi meant something very specific—it meant being a disciple.

Mary wasn’t simply relaxing; she was learning, absorbing, contemplating. She was fully present to Jesus. And what’s so beautiful is that Jesus welcomes this. He defends her choice. That was radical in His time—and it still is.

So here’s the question for us: Are we listening to Jesus? Or are we so busy—even with good things—that we miss His voice?

In our world of constant noise, notifications, and to-do lists, this Gospel is a gentle call back to what matters most. Maybe the most loving thing we can do today is turn off our phones, open the Scriptures, sit in silence, and just be with Him.

Even good work can distract. Now, let’s be clear: Martha wasn’t doing anything wrong. She was serving! She was being responsible! But notice what Jesus says:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things” (v. 41).

He doesn’t scold her for working—He lovingly points out that her worry is distracting her from what matters most. The original Greek word for “distracted” literally means “to be pulled apart.” Can anyone relate?

Sometimes we are so busy doing things for Jesus, we forget to spend time with Him. This is especially true for those in ministry, those caring for family, those working multiple jobs to make ends meet. Like Martha, we may be faithful—but also stressed out.

Jesus isn’t telling us to stop working—He’s inviting us to work from a place of peace, not panic. From communion, not compulsion.

So, choose the better part. Jesus concludes, “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her” (v. 42).

What Mary chose wasn’t the only good thing, but it was the better thing. And what is that better part? It’s being with Jesus. It’s the eternal treasure of knowing and loving God. All our work will one day pass—but the relationship we build with Christ will last forever.

This “better part” is not about doing less—it’s about living from the center. From the heart of Christ.

We are all both Martha and Mary. And the challenge is to find the balance: to serve like Martha, yes—but to listen like Mary. To be active in the world, but rooted in prayer. To move through life not frantic and fragmented, but focused on the One Thing Necessary.

Go and Do Likewise (15th Sunday Ordinary C)

The Harvard sociologist Robert Putnam published his article, “American Grace,” revealing his discovery that the loss of community in America is counterbalanced by a social capital that is kept alive in one place more than any other—in the house of worship. His study reveals that church-goers are more likely to engage in charitable works than their secular counterpart. Those who go to church are more likely willing to do voluntary work, give donation to homeless people, donate blood, help a neighbor in need, help someone find a job, etc.

(Picture from twitter # Sendong)

This is an affirmation of the message of today’s gospel (Lk 10: 25-37) which places love at the heart of Christian ethics. The Parable of the Good Samaritan is a timeless story of everyone’s primary responsibility in love to take care of those who are in need, the neighbor.  Putnam’s study somehow reveals how the message of the parable continues to be incarnated in today’s Christian commitment to loving service in our communities.

Let us reflect more deeply on this primary responsibility to love as taught by today’s gospel reading.  Two things for our reflection: First, the primacy of love over any other law; second, the active nature of love.

Primacy of Love. The gospel reading presents a dialogue between Jesus and the scholar of the law. The conversation leads to an agreement that, according to the law, what brings eternal life is following the greatest commandments, that is, love of God and love of neighbor.  This is illustrated, then, by the parable of the Good Samaritan which effectively employs irony to bring the message across quite powerfully.

The priest and the Levite, who enjoy respectable religious status and are expected to be more loving than others, are portrayed to have fallen short of the duty to love. They have placed more importance on the laws governing ritual purity so that they avoided helping and having to touch the blood of a dying man.  They seemed to have been more concerned about their ritual functions in the temple than their duty to show mercy and love to someone in dire need.

On the other hand, the Samaritan, who is a social outcast due to religious, cultural and political reasons, is described as being readily concerned and compassionate to the robber’s victim.  The Samaritan’s act of love becomes a criticism of the misplaced priority of the ritualistic priest and Levite. Love is the greatest of all commandments.

Our religious piety is not bad as it is an integral part of our faith expression.  But it should not become our comfort zone where we feel secure as we hide from and avoid the demands of loving. Instead, an authentic piety must lead us to greater sensitivity to the neighbor’s needs and even bring joy to our commitment to the works of charity.

Love in Action.  It is one thing to know and understand what love is and its significance in our faith; it’s quite another to actually do it. Love is not so much an idea as a commitment to act.  When the scholar of the law correctly presented the two greatest commandments of love as the way to eternal life, Jesus agreed: “You have answered correctly.”  He did not stop with this simple affirmation though.  Jesus emphasized the necessity of acting according to the greatest commandments as he continued to say: “Do this and you will live” (v. 28).

The scholar of the law wished to justify himself and continued to ask Jesus: “And who is my neighbor?” It is to this question that Jesus narrated the parable of the Good Samaritan where both the priest and the Levite refused to extend their helping hand to the dying man while the Samaritan compassionately assisted him. It is important to note that Jesus, then, changed the question.  It is no longer about “who is my neighbor.” Jesus asked the scholar of his opinion that among the three “who acted as a neighbor.”

The scholar got the correct answer again of course: “The one who treated him with mercy.” And Jesus finally gave him this instruction: “Go and do likewise.” The scholar of the law was seeking understanding and knowledge, or was just testing Jesus’ wisdom; but Jesus was directing him beyond knowledge of the law. Jesus was challenging him to act according to the greatest of all laws—the law of love.

The same challenge is thrown to all of us his disciples: Go and do likewise. We easily know who our neighbor is. Any one in need is our neighbor.  But the real question is, “am I willing to act as a neighbor?”

Robert Putnam’s discovery about the availability of church-goers for charity works is an encouraging observation.  Let us make that same observation true to all the communities we belong to. Let us make the message of the parable of the Good Samaritan alive in our communities. Let us listen to Jesus instructing us, “Go and do likewise.”

The Joy in Mission (14th Sunday Ordinary C)

“New Evangelization” has, perhaps, become the catchword in Church circles over these past years when we have acknowledged this generation’s crisis of faith in many Christian countries due to the inroads of secularist and materialist way of thinking.  We recall during the Year of Faith (2012), we were exhorted by Pope Benedict XVI “to rediscover the joy of believing and the enthusiasm for communicating the faith” [PF, no. 6]. We were invited to engage in the task of evangelization with renewed joy and enthusiasm.

In one of the anniversary celebrations of the Couples for Christ held in Manila I brushed elbows with thousands of lay people swarming the Quirino Grandstand to thank God for the blessings and fruits of their mission worldwide.  I met many of the lay leaders whose all-out commitment to the work of evangelization puts me to shame. And their sense of mission to spread the gospel to “the ends of the earth” is characterized by obvious and contagious joy and enthusiasm.  Deep inside me was a growing confidence that God is, indeed, listening to the prayer of His Church for more labourers in his Kingdom. This time, God is calling and sending more from the “rank” of the laity.

Era of the Laity. Today’s gospel (Lk 10:1-12, 17-20) recounts the appointment of the seventy two disciples whom the Lord sent for the mission of proclaiming the reign of God.  Clearly the Lord sees the need, apart from the twelve apostles, for more collaborators in the mission. The work of evangelization, if it is to make a dent in today’s crisis of faith among Christian countries, cannot remain an exclusive task of the ordained ministers. In the spirit of the 2^nd Vatican Council and ensuing papal exhortations, lay apostolate ought to flourish and be propelled to rejuvenate the life of the Church. The Church, dominantly controlled by the ordained ministers, has to pave the way for lay empowerment and participation in her mission.  It must be, for the ordained, a joy to behold that the lay who have been evangelized are now themselves effective and joyful evangelizers!

Clericalism, which assigns the sole authority over almost all the aspects of ecclesial life to the rank of the ordained and sees the role of the laity in terms of the submissive stance of “paying, praying and obeying,” has to become a thing of the past. The life and mission of the Church will be blessed with abundant fruits and great harvests as we empower the lay and send them as collaborators in the work of proclaiming the reign of God.

As we pray for more workers for God’s abundant harvest (v. 2), we implore for more vocations not only for the religious and priestly ministry. This prayer should also be an ardent appeal for more committed lay collaborators who, by their joyful witnessing of God’s love and mercy, proclaim to the world that God’s reign is at hand.

The Joy of Discipleship-in-mission.  So much for the difficult and hard demands of discipleship, today’s gospel points out the joy inherent in the fulfilment of the mission of a disciple. Discipleship, even if often described as costly, difficult, not-a-walk-in-the-park commitment, is nonetheless characterized by joy.  It is not a surprise, for instance, that the list of the ten happiest jobs (according to the General Social Survey by the National Organization for Research at the University of Chicago) is topped by the clergy and followed by other service-oriented professions.  Among these professions, the least worldly are reported to be the happiest of all. The happiness is observed to be directly proportionate to the ability and opportunity to be of service—a distinctive mark of Christian discipleship.

The gospel recounts that the seventy two returned rejoicing, and said, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us because of your name” (v. 17).

The meaning of discipleship does not rest only in the act of following and in the painful learning of the discipline and teachings. It finds its fulfillment in being sent. What brings so much joy and evokes enthusiasm is the dynamic life brought about by discipleship-in-mission.  A disciple who stays in one’s comfort zone may bask in one’s security but will eventually suffer emptiness. But the one who embraces the risk in giving himself/herself to the mission will find Christian life an exciting adventure.

There is joy in being sent by the Lord. This is the joy of participating in and witnessing firsthand the fulfillment of the reign of God in our midst. This is the joy of victory, as the Lord assures a missionary that, whenever the name of Jesus is proclaimed and embraced in faith, Satan “falls like lightning from the sky” (v. 18). This is the joy of belonging to God as ultimate reward, as Jesus promises that the names of the disciples sent are written in heaven (v. 20).

In today’s context of crisis of faith, where are we sent by the Lord that we may proclaim with joy and enthusiasm the beauty of our faith? In our parochial ministries and apostolate, can we move along the direction of a joyful and enthusiastic collaboration between the pastor and the lay?

"Pilgrims of Hope: In the Footsteps of Peter and Paul"

Today, the Church pauses to celebrate two great pillars of our faith—Saints Peter and Paul. They were different in personality, background, and even in their approaches to mission, but united in one faith, one Lord, and one Church. 

As we reflect on the readings, we draw three points that invite us into deeper discipleship—through Paul, through Peter, and through the call of the Church today. 

Saint Paul: A Life Poured Out in Faithful Witness 

In our second reading, we hear Saint Paul's powerful words to Timothy: "I am already being poured out like a libation... I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." These are not just the words of a man nearing the end of his life—they are the echo of a soul completely offered to Christ. Paul, once a persecutor, became the tireless missionary, preaching the Gospel to the Gentiles, founding communities, enduring beatings, shipwrecks, prison, and rejection. But Paul's significance is not just in his heroic endurance. It is in his absolute dependence on the grace of Christ: "The Lord stood by me and gave me strength." (2 Tim 4:17) 

In Paul, we see the Church's missionary heart—a heart that goes to the margins, crosses cultural boundaries, and proclaims Jesus crucified and risen with boldness and love. His life calls us to ask: What am I pouring my life out for? And do I allow the Lord to stand by me in my weakness? 

Saint Peter: Called to Lead with Confession and Courage

In the Gospel, Jesus asks the disciples, "Who do you say I am?" Peter, moved by divine inspiration, responds: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Jesus replies with a remarkable commission: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my Church." 

Peter's role is foundational. Although he was impulsive, often uncertain, even fearful—he was chosen to be the visible sign of unity, the chief shepherd, and the first among the apostles. And we see this leadership in action in the first reading, where Peter is imprisoned for preaching Christ but miraculously freed—because nothing can imprison the Word of God. 

Peter reminds us that the Church is both human and divine. He had moments of failure—denying Christ—but he also had the humility to repent and the courage to lead. His life teaches us that the Church is not led by perfect people, but by forgiven ones who have encountered Jesus and follow Him boldly. 

Do we see ourselves as part of this living Church? And like Peter, are we ready to confess Christ publicly—even when it's risky? 

The Church Today: Pilgrims of Hope Amid Modern Chains 

As we look around our world, we might ask: What would Peter and Paul say if they saw the Church today? 

We are no longer imprisoned in stone cells or beaten with rods—but we face new chains: Fear of speaking the truth in love, a culture that often dismisses faith as irrelevant, scandals that have wounded our credibility, a growing sense of isolation and spiritual fatigue among many believers.

But this is where the call of the Jubilee Year 2025 becomes especially urgent. Pope Francis has invited us to be "Pilgrims of Hope." That is not a poetic phrase—it's a prophetic one. As pilgrims, we are not settled; we are on a journey. As people of hope, we walk not by sight but by trust in the Risen Lord. 

Peter and Paul were pilgrims of hope in their time. So we must be in ours. Let us ask: What chains do we need the Lord to break in our lives, so we can walk freely as witnesses of hope? How can we, in our parishes, families, and communities, live the mission with renewed courage and joy? 

Saints Peter and Paul remind us that the Church was built not by comfort, but by courage—not by perfection, but by grace. Paul gave everything in love. Peter led with a heart changed by mercy. Now, it is our time. Let us rise as pilgrims of hope, walking in their footsteps, proclaiming with our lives: "Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God!" Amen.

Sharing Even the Last Bread (Corpus Christi C)

What can five loaves and two fish do? How can these ever satisfy the hunger of the multitude? Five loaves and two fish for the five thousand men?!  Not to mention women and children who were most likely among the crowd! Impossible!

This must have been the thoughts of the apostles in today’s gospel (Lk 9: 11b-17) as they counselled Jesus to dismiss the crowd that they might find their own lodging and provisions.  The feeling of helplessness and resignation must have dominated the apostles’ attitude:  Helplessness because of the obvious poverty of resources in the face of so great a need; and resignation because they felt no longer capable of addressing the crowd’s hunger. The need was simply beyond what they thought they could handle, so they opted for the easy solution—“dismiss the crowd” (v. 12).

This temptation to feel helpless and resigned is indeed very strong whenever we are confronted with the problem of having to come to terms with so little resources for so great a need.  I had the opportunity to start a parish from out of a rural chapel community. Right away as I began the journey with the people, I was made aware of so many things to be done which required, of course, resources.  Indeed, there were times when we were tempted to feel helpless whenever we realized we have very little to start with.  It wasn’t difficult to wonder, as the Lord’s apostles did, what can five loaves and two fish do in the face of all the needs.

Sharing overcomes poverty. But the gospel today not only assures us that we are not left alone in our poverty but also shows us the secret to overcoming the needs of the community.  As an assurance, Jesus does not dismiss the hungry crowd to fend for themselves. Rather, the gospel recounts that after gathering the people, Jesus takes, blesses, breaks, and gives the five loaves and two fish to the crowd to satisfy everyone present and even amazes them with the abundant surplus afterwards. Jesus takes whatever we can offer even out of our poverty, blesses them and does his marvelous works out of them.  Jesus brings us out of the helplessness of our poverty and assures us of the unlimited abundance that he offers. The secret: He starts by asking what we have to offer. The secret to abundance is sharing even whatever little we have.

Are we willing to offer him the last bread and fish that we have? Or do we hold on to our limited resources to make sure we have something left for ourselves albeit little?

I am more and more convinced that any form of poverty in any community is fundamentally rooted in the unwillingness of the individuals to share what they are keeping for themselves. There’s a lot of wisdom in our erstwhile national slogan, “Bayan muna bago sarili.” We could have been enjoying in abundance now had we truly lived by the maxim. Instead, starting from our public leaders down to the hoi poloi, what we tend to do is to make sure that we get for ourselves or our families and clan whatever is up for grabs.  “Sarili muna bago ang bayan.” Isn't this complete disregard of the common good in favor of our selfish agenda which serves as the sturdy backbone of the poverty in many of our communities?

Becoming a Eucharistic Community. The gospel today recounting the multiplication of bread and fish alludes to the last supper event when Jesus instituted the Eucharist.  His four acts, taking, blessing, breaking, and giving are common to these two events. So more than just a recounting of Jesus’ miraculous acts of multiplication of the bread, the gospel today is a catechesis on the Eucharist. The community that Jesus founded is essentially a Eucharistic community. A community that gathers, celebrates, and makes present the self-sacrificing act of Jesus at the last supper. Jesus offered to the Father not just any bread. What He took, blessed, broke, and gave was no longer an ordinary bread but the bread of life—his body, his very self.

What do we have to offer? Jesus wants us to offer even the last bread that we keep. It is little for sure. But it doesn't matter. What matters is that we offer the little that we have for the good of the community we belong to just as He offered himself for the sake of the many.

A Eucharistic community will always be one that transcends self-centeredness, one whose members are willing to do some acts of self-sacrifice... of “breaking” oneself to be “given” to others.

Hence, the Solemnity of Corpus Christi today is a renewal of our commitment as a Eucharistic community where the miracle of our Lord continues to happen. And the miracle is this: that each one of us is willing to give whatever one has, even one’s very self, for the good of the community just as Jesus does.  Then, we can be the joyful witnesses of the amazing left-over and abundance of God’s grace more than enough to dispel our sense of helplessness and our defeatist resignation.

A Trying-Hard God (Trinity Sunday C)

Reciprocity is an essential element in loving. Love cannot thrive in isolation. It naturally transcends itself and seeks and reaches out to a beloved and yearns for reciprocity for its fulfillment.  An unreciprocated love grieves in pain and may eventually perish; if not, it endures the agony of rejection in silence like a mother weeping in secret because of her ungrateful child. But when love is reciprocated, it celebrates with joy.  It throbs with life. It turns itself into a powerful creative force. It becomes life-giving.

God as Trinity of Love.  God is love; and the best way to appreciate this truth is to see it in terms of a dynamic reciprocity of loving within God’s self. One of the analogies presented by St. Augustine for an understanding of the mystery of the Trinity, albeit not his favorite, is the analogy of interpersonal love.  Love requires a Lover, a beloved, and the reciprocal bond of love that unites them. The Infinite Lover, whom we call in human language, Father, reaches out to the object of his self-transcending love, the Beloved whom we call Son. The Son, in turn, eternally reciprocates the Father’s love, hence, giving rise to the mutual love that unites them. We understand this bond of love as the Holy Spirit. Thus, God is a Trinity of love. As such, God’s love is not static. It is dynamic as it is an eternal movement of reciprocal loving.

God’s dynamic self-transcending love provides the ground for God’s creative act and God’s self-revelation. Simply put, God created us and revealed God’s self to us because He is love, because it is love’s greatest joy and desire to share and care for another. Today’s readings point to these two acts of the Triune God-- creation and revelation.

Trinity’s Creative Act and Self-Revelation. The first reading (Prov 8:22-31) alludes to the eternal presence and role of the Holy Spirit in God’s creative act.  Proverb’s personification of wisdom finds her present with God in the entire process of creation. As the wisdom of God, in the language of the Old Testament, the Spirit was with God before the creation of the earth, water, mountains and hills. When the Lord established the heavens, made firm the skies, fixed the foundations of the earth, and set the limits of the sea, the Spirit was there “beside” the Lord as his craftsman (v. 30).

The gospel reading (Jn 16: 12-15), on the other hand, illustrates the Trinitarian act of revelation.  Jesus, the Son, is the Father’s revelation. Everything that the Father has is possessed by the Son.  It is this “truth” that Jesus has spoken of and nothing more.  The Holy Spirit, the Advocate, as promised by the Lord, serves two important functions: to enlighten the disciples in the fuller understanding of Jesus and his revelation; second, to glorify Christ as the sole mediator, the “truth” of God.

Solemnity of the Most Blessed Trinity.  Today’s solemnity allows us to appreciate the truth that God is a Trinity of Love.  And out of love, God acts as a Trinity first in creating the world, the universe, and us. And as if it were not enough, He not only created us, He revealed Himself to us through God’s Word, Jesus Christ, and through the enlightenment of the Holy Spirit.

What I see amazes me tremendously.  God has gone out of his way creating us and revealing Himself to us because He is love. His desire is to reach out to us and share God’s life.  God desires to be in relationship with us his people because it is love’s nature. In the book of John, God always does the initiative in loving. God has loved us first. He is a God who offers his love and He is really trying hard.  We probably believe that God does not need us because He is self-sufficient.  So, all too often, we don’t’ take seriously his offer of love.  On this Trinity Sunday, we see a trying-hard God, a God who has done everything in his power to manifest his love to us. We ought to understand, as God’s image and likeness, that when love is offered, it longs for reciprocity.  When it is reciprocated, it rejoices; when ignored or rejected, it grieves. God, I believe, longs for all creation to accept and respond to his offer of love.  No wonder that the Lord Jesus always exclaim that there is much rejoicing in the heavens when a sinner comes back to God’s embrace.

No wonder, too, from among the hundreds of commandments, Jesus points quite easily to the most important of all to guide us: First, love of God and, second, love of neighbor.   The Kingdom of God in its fulfillment is undoubtedly characterized by this dynamic reciprocity of loving, which is, after all, the very nature of the Triune God.

This Sunday, let us heighten our awareness of God’s offer of love.  Our God, the Triune God, longs that we love him in return.  When we are not ready, know that He, the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, will do everything to draw us close to Him until we love him freely.  He is a God who really tries hard.

The Miracle of Pentecost (Pentecost Sunday C)

When God closes a door, He opens up another.  Just as the ascension of our Lord practically put a closure to the mission of the historical Jesus, the Pentecost event opened up a new era—the era of the Holy Spirit.  The Holy Spirit, of course, has always been active in the life and work of Jesus; but the powerful event of Pentecost announces quite dramatically and distinctively the unique and empowering role of the Holy Spirit in elevating to a new level the same mission of Jesus Christ, this time, through the ministry of the Church.

Pentecost Sunday reminds us of two significant events that transpired as the work of the Holy Spirit: One is the “universalization” of the message of Jesus and, another is the launching of the Church on mission.

The Universalization of Jesus’ Message. Jesus lived and preached in a particular place and time. His message was necessarily couched in the symbolisms and literary styles of a particular culture. Needless to say, his message could have been meaningful only to the locality where he was situated. At Pentecost, however, the Holy Spirit universalized his otherwise localized message.  The power of the Holy Spirit overcame the “limits” of the human condition through which Jesus revealed his Father’s love.

Pentecost was originally one of the greatest feasts in Jewish calendar commemorating the giving of the Law of Moses in Mt. Sinai. Jews and foreigners coming from different countries did their pilgrimage to Jerusalem on this great feast.  So that on Pentecost day, as we have it in the first reading from the Acts of the Apostles 2:1-11, the Spirit moved the apostles to proclaim “the mighty acts of God.”  They spoke in a foreign tongue; but to the astonishment of the hearers who were from different nations, they heard and understood the message in their own language!  As recounted in Acts:  “Full of amazement and wonder, they asked, “Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? How is it that we hear them in our own native language?” (Acts 2:7-8).

Such is the miracle of Pentecost.  Christ’s disciples were understood by people from different nations. Indeed, as promised by Jesus, we should not let our hearts be troubled. The Holy Spirit, sent by the Father as the Paraclete, brings understanding. The Holy Spirit sees to it that Jesus’ message will be understood by many.  The Good News is now actually preached to all the ends of the earth. The Good News of God’s love is for everyone regardless of race, gender, socio-economic status. Thanks to the Holy Spirit.

The Launching of the Church on Mission. The era of the Holy Spirit is also the era of the Church. Jesus Christ has passed on to his followers the baton of responsibility to preach the Good News to all peoples. Pentecost is the moment when the Holy Spirit gave birth to the Church. It is through this community of believers that repentance and forgiveness of sins will be proclaimed. The Church is on mission.

Pentecost Sunday reminds us that the Church’s being and mission is essentially dependent on the enabling power of the Holy Spirit. It is the Holy Spirit that guides the Church to proclaim the truth of God’s love; it is the Holy Spirit that empowers her to forgive sins; it is the Holy Spirit that animates the Church with manifold gifts for various ministries. It is the Holy Spirit that draws together people of diverse cultures and it is the Holy Spirit that incorporates them into the one body of Christ.

Understanding the indispensable role of the Holy Spirit in the life of the Church brings a sigh of relief to pastoral agents facing great challenges in continuing the mission of the Church.  Pastoral work, after all, is not about the work of the pastor. It is the work of the Holy Spirit. Those who are working in the Church should not commit the mistake of believing that the Church’s work is their own personal project. If they do, they’ll be impoverishing the community, reducing the ministry to a pathetic display of their self-proclaimed expertise, oblivious of the manifold gifts of the Holy Spirit present in all the members of the community.

Today is Pentecost Sunday.  Let us pray for the miracle of Pentecost:  May the Holy Spirit once again embolden and inspire the Church  to preach the gospel of Christ with a renewed conviction and enthusiasm; and may through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit, the Church proclaim effectively the grace of repentance and forgiveness of sins and welcome into her warm embrace those who enter the Holy Door of God's mercy. 

On this Day of Victory (Ascension Sunday C)

Probably an 18th Century composition, the following hymn on the Solemnity of the Ascension captures not only the meaning of the mystery but also the joy and exultation proper to the celebration of the ultimate victory of Christ on his ascension. If you don’t know the music, enjoy the poetry:

Let the earth rejoice and sing, alleluia!
At the triumph of our King, alleluia!
He ascends from mortal sight, alleluia!
Reigns now at our Father’s right, alleluia!

He who died upon a tree, alleluia!
Now shall reign eternally, alleluia!
He who saved our fallen race, alleluia!
Takes in heav’n his rightful place, alleluia!

Jesus, Lord, all hail to thee, alleluia!
On this day of victory, alleluia!
Thou didst shatter Satan’s might, alleluia!
Rising glorious from the fight, alleluia!

Jesus, Victor, hear our prayer, alleluia!
In thy triumph let us share, alleluia!
Lift our minds and hearts above, alleluia!
Strengthen all men in thy love, alleluia!

While in heaven thou dost gaze, alleluia!
On thy Church who sings thy praise, alleluia!
Fasten all our hope in thee, alleluia!
Till thy face unveiled we see, alleluia!

Ascension, Cause for our Joy.  The hymn expresses what the disciples themselves felt as they witnessed the event of the Lord’s ascension to heaven. In today’s gospel reading (Lk  24:46-53), the disciples, who are witnesses to “all these things,” are reported to have returned to Jerusalem WITH GREAT JOY and they continually praised God in the temple (v.52-53).  Today’s Solemnity allows us to share in that same joy as we contemplate the mystery and the great implication it has in our Christian life.

In Luke’s gospel, the ascension account serves as the conclusion. The ascension is shown as the victorious completion of the mission of Jesus.  The Jesus event—his life, teachings, ministry, suffering, death, and resurrection—comes to a close in his ascension to heaven. A new era, that of the Spirit, is being ushered. Pentecost is in the horizon.

But what is there to rejoice about in the mystery of the Lord’s ascension? Theologians have spelled out the significance of Jesus’ resurrection-ascension for our salvation. Many have pointed out that Jesus’ resurrection (inclusive of ascension) is his vindication.  He had suffered greatly following the will of the Father.  On his death, he had painfully cried out for an answer to the unfathomable experience of total abandonment. He died clinging to only one thing—trust in his Father’s faithful love. His resurrection then is seen as the loving answer of the Father.  But more than just a vindication, the resurrection-ascension event fulfils and completes the saving mission of Jesus.  It is through his resurrection-ascension that Jesus, the God-man, attains his permanent glory as He “goes back” to the Father. In Jesus, the God-man, human race is born permanently into the very life of God, the Triune God.  Hence, human being has fulfilled his destiny. In Jesus, humanity has now become a sharer of divine life. Nothing can change this anymore!  Jesus’ victory is definite.  This is the cause of the great joy of Jesus’ witnesses. This is the cause of our exultation!

Ascension, Source of our Hope.  The first reading (Acts 1:1-11), recounted the words of the “two men dressed in white garments” who suddenly stood beside the apostles while they were looking intently at the sky: “Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky? This Jesus who has been taken up from you into heaven will return in the same way as you have seen him going into heaven” (v. 11). Today’s Solemnity of the Lord’s Ascension invites us to “lift our minds and hearts above” that we may always find hope for life’s persistent experience of uncertainties and seeming defeat in the reassuring victory of Christ and that we may anticipate the glorious return of our Lord in the final fulfilment of history.

As we continue to wade through the vicissitudes of our earthly life, we need to gaze heavenward to be always reminded of the victory of Jesus of which we are a sharer.  The desperate power of evil continues to deceive us sowing doubt and despair in humanity.  Disheartening us.  Taking advantage of the faint-hearted faith. But to us whose gaze is fixed on the victory of Jesus, evil is unmasked of its pretentions.  We see it as it is—fallen!

Thus, no matter how the work of evil seems to continue to undermine our personal journey of faith through our sins, destroy the foundation of families, corrupt our institutions, sow discord and injustices in society and mindlessly abuse the abundance of God’s creation, let us not allow ourselves to fall into the pit of despair.  Jesus’ ascension has won for us our destiny which nothing can change.  And we are awaiting his final glory. Let this be our hope. And as hopeful people, we can see to it that our actions and decisions in life continue to represent the optimism of kindling even tiny sparks of light amid the magnitude of darkness rather than the resigned and futile cursing of the dark.  

The solemnity we celebrate today inspires us, amid the tides of godless secularism and materialism, to become Jesus’ witnesses to the ends of the earth. On this day of victory “let the earth rejoice and sing” as we witness with renewed JOY and rekindled HOPE.  

To Jesus, the Lord of history, seated at the Father’s right hand, we now pray:

While in heaven thou dost gaze, alleluia!

On thy Church who sings thy praise, alleluia!

Fasten all our hope in thee, alleluia!

Till thy face unveiled we see, alleluia! 

God’s Two Hands (6th Sunday Easter C)

The Father works with his two hands: the Word and the Spirit. It was Irenaeus of Lyons, one of the early Fathers of the Church, who expressed this Trinitarian understanding of God’s activity in salvation history. This Trinitarian outlook can help us approach the gospel reading today (Jn 14:23-29) with a keen awareness of the complimentary roles of Jesus, the Word of God, and of the Spirit, the Advocate, in making God present in our Christian living.

God is made present in our lives through the Word and the Spirit. Today’s gospel stresses this truth: God lives in us when we keep his Word and as we allow the Holy Spirit to empower us in our Christian witnessing. Let us have a word for each of these two agents of God’s indwelling in us.

Keeping the Word of God. Jesus is the Word of the Father. We can only come to know God through his Word, his self-revelation. No wonder, Jesus stresses, as part of his leave-taking discourse, the principle of the concurrence of the indwelling of God with the observance of his word. As we have it in the gospel today: “Whoever loves me will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our dwelling with him” (v. 23).

To Keep the Word of God means getting to know Jesus, listening to him, and obeying his commandments. It means living out in our daily lives everything he has taught us. When we do this, God lives in us. Negatively expressed, today’s gospel reminds us of the incompatibility between living in God and disregarding his Word. No one can honestly claim loving God and living in him when one does not observe God’s will.

All too often, our Christian living suffers this incompatibility. We easily claim God being with us but we fail to show it in actual witnessing. How, for instance, can we claim to be followers of Jesus and at the same time be comfortably part of a culture of corruption that gnaws at every fibre of our social life like a silent cancer?

Today’s gospel then allows us to see the indispensability of knowing Jesus, the Word, and living by his precepts in order to enjoy the peace of God’s abiding presence. Without the Word becoming incarnate in our own lives, how then can we have God dwell in us?

Invoking the Holy Spirit. The Spirit works hand in hand with the Word. The Spirit, the Advocate, teaches and reminds us of everything Jesus, the Word, has told us (v. 26). The Spirit helps us understand God’s Word, shedding light on the salvific meaning of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is the Spirit that emboldens us to become fearless witnesses of Jesus. The Spirit empowers us to keep the word of God, hence, the Spirit ensures God’s abiding presence in us.

As a Christian, am I aware of this crucial role of the Spirit in my everyday witnessing? Do I invoke his empowering presence especially in moments when courage and conviction are called for in order to keep God’s word amidst a culture that jeers at the very core of the gospel values?

Left on our own devices, we always end up insecure and fearful about what we can do in terms of witnessing to the Word of God. My own feeling is that a great number of Christians have remained insecure as they honesty doubt their human capacity to keep the word of Jesus. They have forgotten to allow the Spirit to work through them, to embolden them, to assure them that, no matter what, it is God who is always in charge.

In the final analysis, God works with his two hands—the Word and the Spirit—in order to make sure that his love is effectively communicated and his Word kept that we may live in him and God may live in us now and forever.

We have just done our national and local elections, let us continue to invoke the power of the Holy Spirit to guide our nation into the path that God wills for us his people. We dream of a better nation, then let us listen to the Word in our consciences and allow the Spirit of God, the God who acts in history, to work through each of us and collectively, in our effort for nation-building. God does not leave us in the inadequacies of our own device. After all, He is the God of history; He acts in history, gently, mightily, with his two hands.