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.

The Good Shepherd (4th Sunday Easter C)

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday.  Our gospel reading (Jn 10:27-30) describes our relationship with Jesus in terms of a mutual intimate personal knowledge between the sheep and the Good Shepherd: “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me” (v. 27).

There is a certain Amazonian tribe which has baffled researchers and anthropologists because of its unique trait—the members of the tribe don’t know how to count, neither can they learn it after being taught. They simply do not have the concept of numbers or numerals.  Intrigued by this information, a curious tourist once put this fact to a test by asking a member of the tribe who was tending his flock how many sheep he was taking care of. The shepherd just smiled, perplexed by the question; he couldn’t answer how many. The tourist continued asking: “If you cannot count your sheep, then how would you know that a sheep is lost?” The shepherd smiled again but this time he had an answer: “I just know because I know each of my sheep uniquely.  When the sheep with the thickest fur, for instance, is not around, I worry; I go and look for it.”

Sometimes when we are good at numbers, it is easier to deal with people as numerical data or as statistical variable.  And we stop right there and fail to have a personal knowledge of the people and hence, understanding of what they are going through in their lives.  

On the part of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, He knows his sheep beyond statistics, beyond the numerical description as “the 99 and the lost one.”   He knows his sheep even deeper than their external realities. He knows their hearts; he knows their joys and sorrows, their hopes and anxieties. Such knowledge is intimate and personal, one that inevitably forges a strong bond of love and loyalty. He knows us intimately because, as the Psalmist proclaims, “He made us, we belong to him, we are his people, the sheep of his flock” (Ps 99: 3). 

Only this depth of personal knowledge elicits on the part of the leader a totally selfless commitment for the well-being of the followers. So we hear Jesus declare, “I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish. No one can take them out of my hand” (v. 28).

What a consoling statement from a leader! Jesus, the Good Shepherd gives us life. He takes care of us. He protects us. He does not allow anyone to snatch us from him. As the book of Isaiah has it: “Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care” (Is 40:11).

Have I experienced the Lord as the Good Shepherd who knows me uniquely, loves me and takes care of me, making sure that nothing takes me out of his hand?

On our part, to be Jesus’ sheep to whom He offers life, we need to know his voice and follow him.  Knowing Jesus, the Good Shepherd, means hearing his voice in the depths of our conscience. It means recognizing His guiding and enabling presence in our daily lives, making his voice alive as we read and meditate on His words in the Scripture. It also means listening to him through the teachings of his Church. When we do this, when we truly listen to the voice of the Lord and follow him, we experience just what the Lord, the Good Shepherd, desires for us—life, a beautiful life, a blessed life, even eternal life.

But there are times we insist on doing things our own way.  We ignore the Lord and his voice by our decisions and lifestyle that are contrary to his precepts.  These acts of freely ignoring the voice of the Shepherd may eventually lead us to our own suffering and brokenness.  Time and again, we hear real stories of people in pain. Many times their stories end with a painful question directed towards God: “Where are you? Why do you make me suffer? Don’t you truly love me and care for me?”  

We tend to blame others and God for the consequences of our foolishness and hardness of heart. Our gospel today reminds us that God is always faithful to his goodness, to his loving nature, to his desire to bless us and protect us because He is the Good Shepherd.  He knows each of us uniquely and cares for us for we belong to Him. He is always true and faithful to the covenant, to our loving relationship with him. But He does not coerce us to follow him.  He invites. We need to hear his voice and follow him freely. Like Him, we have to be faithful.

Do I listen to the voice of the Shepherd and allow Him to be my guide in life? Were there times when I ignored Him and went my own way? Have I ever blamed the Lord for the misfortunes I brought to myself?

On this Good Shepherd Sunday, we thank the Lord for loving us in a personal and intimate way and for caring for us as a shepherd tends his sheep.  The Lord is the Good Shepherd who desires that we may have life.  

All we need to do is to be faithful to Him, always listening to His voice that we may follow Him to where He leads us—the pasture where we find fullness of life.

Do You Love Me? (3rd Sunday Easter C)

Have you been seriously asked this question: “Do you love me?” When you are aware of the full implication of the commitment to love, this question is truly a daunting one.  Many find it a lot easier to be non-committal by responding, “perhaps, perhaps, perhaps.”

When I was making up my mind about getting ordained as a priest, I had to grapple with this question. And of course the question, in my particular context, is thrown by God.  I had to face the Lord in my prayer and give my courageous answer.  After all, the authenticity of following the Lord essentially rests on the love that binds one with him.  Today’s gospel episode (Jn 21:1-19) helped me arrive at a decisive affirmation of my vocation. Allow me to share my personal insights that emboldened me to say yes.  Two related insights: First, with the Risen Lord, there’s life; without Him, there’s emptiness.  Second, the Risen Lord fills up the abyss of our inadequacy in loving him.

A Life of Bounty.  Any sane person desires to live a bountiful life—a fruitful and meaningful life. We are all in search of this life. The gospel today reveals to us the secret path to such a life: It is only with the Lord’s direction that one can truly attain a fruitful life.

The gospel begins with the scene where Peter and those with him decided to go fishing— actually to go back to fishing, a life they had already left behind when they followed the Lord. Fishing was their expertise; they were good at that.  But that night, the whole night, they caught nothing. When it was already dawn, the Risen Lord was standing on the shore and directed them to cast their net over the right side of the boat. “So they cast it, and were not able to pull it in because of the number of fish” (v. 6).

This incident reminds all of Jesus’ disciples, starting from Peter himself, that we cannot boast of our expertise, skills, talents and know-how. These do not guarantee that we can be truly fruitful in what we do in life. A “large catch,” a bountiful and meaningful life, can be achieved only when we humbly submit our expertise to the Lord’s directions.  Apart from Him our abilities may be disoriented, our life fruitless.

I met a businessman, for instance, in Makati. Despite his seeming success in his trade, he admitted of his emptiness. Not only that, his intoxication with his success was leading him to destroy his family! His own brand of success gave him more occasions to cheat his wife and robbed him of his time to be with his children. Fortunately, before he totally destroyed what really mattered in his life he came to his senses: He could not continue to do it his own way lest he would certainly lose everything. 

Sometimes, it is good to hit the rock bottom of our folly because it shakes off our arrogance. And only in that posture of humility that we can listen to God’s directions and eventually enjoy a truly blessed bountiful life.

Do I allow the Risen Lord to give directions to my life? Or do I stubbornly and arrogantly insist on doing things my old way even after the Lord has shown me the way? 

Do You Love Me? Anyone who wants to follow the Lord has to face this question squarely. This is the question I had to face myself. Do I love the Lord enough to be his ordained priest? Do I love the Lord more than I love myself? More than I love the significant persons in life? More than his created things?

An honest evaluation of ourselves will most likely render us incapable of giving a categorical yes. We love the Lord, but we know full well that our human heart is fickle, forgetful, unfaithful, and many times coward. While it is a total dishonesty to say no, to say yes seems to be a form of arrogance.

Towards the end of today’s gospel episode, Jesus confronts Peter with this hard question: “Do you love me more than these?” Peter has to answer this three times! The same number of times he has denied the Lord just before the crucifixion! What a grilling moment this is for Peter! But this is a moment of grace too. The triple question of the Master is to allow Peter to undo his triple denial with a triple profession of love. Such is the Lord’s graciousness.

Peter’s profession of love is no longer arrogant. There is so much humility in his answer when he says “Yes Lord; YOU KNOW that I love you.” I love you as you know me and my imperfect heart.

I find so much consolation in this realization that the Lord knows our heart. He knows its inadequacies in loving him. Yet He finds ways for us to come to terms with every moment of our imperfection in loving him. He fills up the abyss of our inadequacy to love. Simply put, He enables our incompetent heart to love him!

It is this love—a graced love-- that any follower of Jesus will have to carry with him/her in the journey towards the path of discipleship.  “Feed my sheep” is Jesus’ charge to anyone who braves to embrace the challenge of loving him.

On this third Sunday of Easter, we are invited by the Lord to answer bravely but with humility his question, “Do you love me?” We may be well aware of our inadequacies in loving the Lord. This serves us well because it humbles us. But let us be equally aware of God’s enabling grace allowing us to love him. Like Peter may we then say, “Yes Lord; YOU KNOW that I love you.”  As we fulfill our charge to serve in whatever capacity we are called to, let God’s directions always be our cue; then, trust that we are in for a great catch.

Mercy Unlocks Hope (Divine Mercy)

Happy Divine Mercy Sunday! What a gift it is to be gathered today, especially in this Jubilee Year of Hope. We are celebrating a feast that flows straight from the heart of Jesus—a feast that tells us there’s no sin too big, no failure too deep, no heart too far gone for the mercy of God.

In the Gospel today, the disciples are in the upper room—hiding, afraid, unsure of what the future holds. That room might feel familiar to some of us. We all have our “upper room” moments: times of fear, doubt, or failure. But what happens in that room is incredible—Jesus walks in. Doors locked, hearts anxious—and still, He comes. He says, “Peace be with you.”

Let’s reflect together on how mercy unlocks hope—for the disciples, and for us today.

Mercy Enters Our Fear.
The disciples are behind locked doors. Fear has paralyzed them. Guilt has silenced them. But Jesus doesn’t knock—He walks straight in. That’s mercy. It doesn’t wait until we have it all figured out. Mercy moves first. It enters our fear, sits with us in our mess, and speaks peace into our storm.

How often do we try to keep the door closed—thinking we need to be better, more prayerful and more committed before God can meet us?

But Jesus comes anyway. He meets us right there—in the fear, in the doubt, in the shame—and He says, “Peace be with you.”

St. Faustina heard Jesus say: “Let the sinner not be afraid to approach Me. The flames of mercy are burning Me—clamoring to be spent.” (Diary 50) That’s our Savior. Burning with mercy, eager to draw near—not because we deserve it, but because He can’t help Himself. That’s love.

Mercy Sends Us on Mission. The next thing Jesus does is powerful. After offering peace, He breathes on them the Holy Spirit and says: “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” He doesn’t just heal their hearts—He gives them a mission.

Mercy doesn’t stop at comforting us. It commissions us. We are not just forgiven; we are sent.
This is where the Jubilee Year of Hope comes alive. The world is aching for mercy—for kindness, for compassion, for people who carry peace into broken places. That’s us. We’re the ones sent. As St. Faustina wrote: “Proclaim that mercy is the greatest attribute of God. All the works of My hands are crowned with mercy.” (Diary 301).

We’re called to be living signs of that mercy. In our families, at work, with friends, even online—every encounter is an opportunity to offer what we’ve received.

Mercy Meets Our Wounded Faith. Now we come to Thomas. Poor Thomas gets labeled “the doubter,” but let’s be honest—he’s real. He’s been hurt, disappointed, maybe even angry. He says, “Unless I see the wounds… I won’t believe.” And what does Jesus do? He doesn’t lecture him. He doesn’t shame him. He invites him: “Put your finger here… touch my wounds.”

That’s mercy too. Mercy meets us even when our faith is shaky. When we’re confused, hurt, or distant. Jesus doesn’t avoid our wounds—He reveals His own. And His wounds are not erased. They’re still visible—but they are now sources of healing.

St. Faustina said it best:
“My Heart overflows with great mercy for souls... If only they could understand that I am the best of Fathers to them.” (Diary 367). So if you’ve been carrying doubts or questions—you're not alone. Thomas was a disciple too. And he ended up declaring the greatest act of faith in the Gospel: “My Lord and my God.” That’s what mercy can do.

As we look at the image of Divine Mercy today, those five simple words speak louder than anything: Jesus, I trust in You. That’s what today is all about. Mercy received. Hope restored. Trust renewed. And in this Jubilee Year of Hope, we remember what St. Faustina shared from the Lord:
“Mankind will not have peace until it turns with trust to My mercy” (Diary 300).
So today, whatever is behind the locked door of your heart—fear, guilt, doubt—let Jesus walk in. Let mercy meet you there. And then, be ready. Because He will send you out to carry that same mercy to others.
Because mercy… always unlocks hope.

Lolo Kiko: A Shepherd Close to our Hearts

We gather with heavy hearts yet grateful spirits as we remember the life and ministry of Pope Francis—a man who was not only the leader of the universal Church but who, to many Filipinos, became much more personal. We fondly called him “Lolo Kiko,” our beloved grandfather. In this time of worldwide mourning, I invite us to pause and reflect on the unique way he touched our lives, a legacy woven with mercy, humility, and a pastoral closeness that felt deeply like family.

For many, Pope Francis is remembered for his gentleness and simplicity. But for us here in the Philippines, he became something like family. I recall vividly his visit to Tacloban after Typhoon Yolanda—those days of overwhelming loss and heartbreak. He walked among the ruins, touched the suffering, and sat with our people in grief. It was there that a beautiful, tender bond was formed. We did not just see him as the pope; we saw him as a grandfather who carried our pain and offered hope. From that moment, many of us began calling him “Lolo Kiko,” a name full of warmth and trust—our gentle grandfather who never left us in our darkest hours.

Lolo Kiko’s love for us went beyond any official role. He embraced Filipino families and our youth with open arms and words full of encouragement. His call to the young to “be protagonists of your own history” (Address to youth, Manila, 2015) spoke to our hopes and dreams. And he knew well the heart of Filipino culture, where family is everything. His humble presence and warm smile made us feel he walked with us, urging each one—old and young—to place their trust confidently in God’s faithful love.

More than that, Pope Francis reminded us about the true mission of the Church. He often described it as a “field hospital after battle” (Evangelii Gaudium, 2013), a place not of judgment but of healing and comfort to the wounded. This powerful image echoes deeply in our context here in the Philippines, where so many face poverty and hardship daily. He urged us not to stay within the comfortable walls of the Church but to go out to the peripheries — the poor, the marginalized, the forgotten. “The Church’s very credibility is seen in how she shows merciful and compassionate love... to the poorest, the weakest, the least important” (Evangelii Gaudium, 2013). Just like our Filipino spirit of bayanihan, the Church is called to journey with others, to heal, and to uplift.

At the very center of Lolo Kiko’s teaching was mercy — God’s infinite mercy that never tires of reaching out. He spoke beautifully, “Mercy is the bridge that connects God and man, opening our hearts to the hope of being loved forever despite our sins” (Misericordiae Vultus, 2015). That message touched a chord among us Filipinos, for mercy and forgiveness are at the heart of our healing as families and communities. Through his witness, many found strength to reconcile and to hope again.

He also inspired us to care more deeply for our common home. His encyclical Laudato Si’ (2015) was a heartfelt invitation to protect the environment—a call profoundly meaningful to our archipelago, so often battered by storms and calamities. “We need to strengthen the conviction that we are one single human family” (Laudato Si’, 2015). If we truly see ourselves as one family, protecting our earth becomes an act of faith and love.

In today's societies too often fractured by distrust and division, Pope Francis was tireless in calling for peace and dialogue. His words, “Dialogue is the path to peace” (Address to leaders of various religions, 2014), remind us especially here in Mindanao and throughout our country that peace begins by listening and building bridges. Let us be inspired to be instruments of that peace in our families, communities, and nation.

Finally, we recall Lolo Kiko’s humility and his revolutionary call for synodality — the Church as a journeying community, walking and listening together. He reminded us that Synodality means walking together, listening to each other, and discerning the Holy Spirit’s guidance." This harmonizes perfectly with our Filipino value of pakikipagkapwa-tao, recognizing our shared dignity and responsibility. This kind of Church is alive, vibrant, and ready to embrace the future with hope.

My dear brothers and sisters, as we remember our beloved Lolo Kiko, let us honor him not only with our tears but with the way we live. May we continue his legacy of mercy, humble service, and joyful witness. May the Filipino Church become a field hospital for those in need, a family that embraces its youth with hope, and a community that walks together  in faith, hope, and love.

Let us pray for the eternal rest of Pope Francis and for the grace to imitate his humble, loving example. May his life always remind us that the Church is built not on power, but on the tender heart as that of a grandfather who loves. Amen.

 

Easter People, Pilgrims of Hope (Easter Vigil C)

On the eve of Christmas in 2022, a 34-year-old mother and her 3-year-old child were swept away by a mighty flood in Misamis Occidental. Their house was carried by the raging waters into the vast sea. For three long days, they drifted helplessly, clinging to broken pieces of wood as their fragile raft repeatedly gave way.

I watched her interview on TV, and I was deeply moved by the courage she showed—a fierce determination not only to survive but to protect her young child. Despite the overwhelming darkness and uncertainty surrounding them, she never lost hope. With faith in God’s providence, she scavenged for anything they could eat—fruits, fish—and when her child was thirsty, she reached out and found a coconut to quench that thirst.

Her story is a powerful testament to hope’s strength—the hope that carries us through the darkest, most desperate moments. Like this mother, we too can cling to the lifeline that Christ offers, journeying from the stormy seas of despair into the light of safety, new life, and joy.

That mother’s undying hope—holding on through the darkest night—mirrors the journey we celebrate this Easter Vigil. Tonight, we gather in darkness, yet we are not afraid, for the light of the Paschal Candle pierces the shadows. Christ, our hope, has risen! We celebrate the triumph of life over death, light over darkness, and hope over despair. In this Jubilee Year, the Church calls us to be "Pilgrims of Hope," journeying with faith toward the fullness of God’s promises.

Hope, Our Journey from Darkness to Light. The Gospel (Luke 24:1-12) shows us this journey beautifully. The women visit Jesus’ tomb at dawn, weighed down by grief and loss. But they find the stone rolled away and the tomb empty. The angels ask, "Why do you look for the living among the dead?" (Lk 24:5). 

This is the heart of Christian hope: a pilgrimage from the darkness of despair to the radiant light of the resurrection. The Easter Vigil liturgy reflects this movement—from the blessing of fire, the lighting of the Paschal Candle, to the joyful proclamation of Christ’s victory. Like the women, we are called to step out of darkness—whether it is fear, doubt, grief, or sin—and into the new light of Christ’s risen life.

Where in my life am I still walking through darkness—fear, doubt, sorrow?  How can I open my heart, like the women, to let the light of Christ transform that darkness into joy?

Hope, Our Journey from Slavery to Freedom. The Easter Vigil readings powerfully recall Israel’s liberation from slavery in Egypt—a journey from oppression to freedom (Exodus 14:15-15:1). The miraculous crossing of the Red Sea reveals God’s saving power, leading His people from bondage into the Promised Land. This event is the “mother of all our hopes” in salvation history, a vivid image of freedom conquered by God’s intervention.

In Christ, the resurrection is the ultimate breaking of chains—the defeat of sin and death itself. Just as the Israelites were freed from physical slavery, we are set free from the spiritual slavery of sin through Christ’s Paschal Mystery. The empty tomb proclaims that no power can hold us captive; the resurrection confirms that the chains of sin are broken.

In Our Lives, the “slavery of sin” can trap us in despair, guilt, and brokenness, but Christ’s resurrection offers a new path to freedom. What forms of slavery—fear, addiction, resentment—hold me captive today? How can I embrace the freedom Christ won for me through his resurrection? In what ways can I live as a freed person, sharing hope with those still in bondage?

Hope, a Journey from Death to Life. The Epistle from Romans (6:3-11) reveals the deeper meaning of Easter hope: Baptism. Paul tells us, "We were buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead, we too might walk in newness of life" (Rom 6:4).  

Tonight, as we celebrate the baptism of new members into the Church, we remember that baptism is our own personal journey from death to life. It is not merely a ritual, but the powerful moment when sin dies and grace is born in us. The empty tomb is not just an event in history; it is the promise of new and eternal life for each of us.

How does my baptism shape the way I live and respond to life’s challenges?  How can I more faithfully live as a witness to the resurrection hope I have received?

The Easter Vigil calls us to be Pilgrims of Hope. Like the women at the tomb and Peter running to see, we are invited to journey toward the light, freedom, and new life of the resurrection. In this Jubilee Year, may we carry this hope into the world, sharing the light for those still walking in darkness.  

As we renew our baptismal promises tonight, let us pray: Lord, make us bearers of Your hope in every step of our pilgrimage. May we run joyfully to share the Good News: Christ is risen! Alleluia!  

THE SEVEN LAST WORDS for quiet reflection and personal prayer

For those who prefer to stay home on Good Friday, you can deepen your experience of Holy Week and prepare for a joyful Easter celebration by spending quiet moments reflecting on the last words of Jesus discerning their message for you.

PREPARATION: Find a place where you can be alone, quiet, and comfortable. It would be helpful to have a crucifix that you can contemplate on. Bring your journal should you wish to write down the fruits of your reflection. Take time to reflect and pray over each of the seven last words of our dear Lord. You may linger and stay where you feel the Lord is speaking to you deeply. Feel free to respond to the Lord expressing whatever is in your heart.

1. “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” (Luke 23:34). Jesus is falsely accused, convicted unfairly and tortured brutally but still He sees and understands his persecutors’ ignorance and intercedes to the Father for their forgiveness.  In his suffering, Jesus offers forgiveness… not vengeance… nor hatred.

Have you been unjustly treated? Can you get past this injustice you might have endured? With God’s grace, would you be happier if you could set your heart free by offering forgiveness as Jesus did? Are there people in your life to whom you need to offer forgiveness? Or from whom you need to seek forgiveness?  

2. “Amen, I say to you, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:43). These are words of salvation Jesus speaks to one of the thieves being crucified. He is said to be the “Good Thief” because, after acknowledging his guilt, he turns to Jesus and humbly implores that he be remembered when Jesus comes into his kingdom. And Jesus, indeed, guarantees his and OUR salvation.

When you gaze at the cross of Jesus, are you ready to admit the guilt of your own sinfulness? Do you feel Jesus’s invitation to entrust to Him your brokenness? What sinful situation in your life right now you might want to ask Jesus to save you from?  What would you like to say to Jesus? Express your gratitude to the Lord for assuring you a place in His Kingdom.

3. “Woman, behold, your son. … Behold, your mother.” (John 19:26–27). As Jesus approaches his death, He thinks of Mary, his beloved Mother, and how she would be taken care of without Him. Here, Jesus entrusts Mary to “the disciple whom he loved.”

Who is Mary to you? What role does Mary play in your life? Do you express loving concern for your own mother? Or aging parents? Do you have close friends who are like a member of your family just like the beloved disciple? Would you like to write how you feel about them and how you appreciate their presence in your life?

4. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  (Mark 15:34). Jesus cries out in anguish from the cross. He feels alone approaching his death. He is abandoned by most of his friends. The beloved Father too seems to be distant and tolerant of all the evil done to him.

Do you think God had abandoned his beloved Son? Have there been difficult moments in your life when you asked, “Where is God?” Have you ever felt abandoned by family, friends or even God? Do you trust God’s love despite His seeming silence in some difficult times in your life?

5. “I thirst.” (John 19:28). Jesus, after having been whipped, crowned with thorns and nailed to the cross expresses a human need. He thirsts. He, the source of living water, thirsts! To quench his thirst, Jesus is offered a sponge soaked in sour wine.

Don’t you ever feel that Jesus thirst is not for water but for your love? Your loyalty? For justice? For peace? For the healing of creation? In life, what are you thirsting for? Do you thirst spiritually for Jesus, the Living Water? Have there been moments when you cried out in distress? Were there people who gave you a helping hand?

6. “It is finished.” (John 19:30). These three words of Jesus express the fulfilment of God’s promises to his people. Jesus has accomplished his mission as the promised Savior of humankind. He now declares victory over sin and death.

Jesus had been resolute in doing the Father’s will. His life and death had a special purpose in God’s plan of salvation.  What is your life’s purpose? Would you write your own vision (who you are called to become) and mission (what are you called to do)?  Where are you in fulfilling God’s purpose in your life? Are there moments of victories?

7. “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” (Luke 23:46). These words summarize how Jesus lived—in humble surrender to the Father’s will. Here, again, He entrusts everything, His spirit to the Father, as He dies broken, humiliated, and abandoned. In this most despicable state, Jesus expresses His total trust in his unity with the Father.

Do you trust God so as to let go of your controls in life? Have there been some dark moments in your life, beyond your understanding, when you felt there’s nothing to hold on to but your faith in God? Have you ever doubted the abiding presence of the Father?

REVIEW:  Review the fruits of each meditation and discern how they all fit together as God’s invitation for you in life. Notice how Jesus’ suffering and death strengthen your faith, hope, and love amid your own struggles in some dark hours in life nudging you to move on with the joyful disposition of Easter.

CONVERSATION WITH THE LORD:  End with a heart to heart talk with the Lord. Express your gratitude, your love, your commitment to Him who laid down his life for you. GOD BLESS YOU!

The Pilgrims' New Passover of Hope (Last Supper)

We gather on this Holy Thursday to begin the Paschal Triduum, we enter together into the holiest moment of our liturgical year—the sacred journey from suffering to Resurrection. This year, during the Jubilee Year themed Pilgrims of Hope, we are reminded that our faith journey is one of hope moving forward, hope born of Christ’s self-giving love and sacrifice. Just as the Israelites were pilgrims led by God’s mighty hand out of slavery into freedom during the first Passover, so too are we pilgrims on a path of hope, navigating life’s trials while trusting in the new life Christ won for us through His Body and Blood. Tonight we reflect on this journey, how Jesus invites us to share in His sacrifice, follow His humble servant leadership, and live out His commandment of love and forgiveness.

The New Passover and the Sacrament of the Eucharist

• Holy Thursday marks the beginning of the Paschal Triduum, starting with the remembrance of the Last Supper Jesus shared with His disciples before His Passion.

• The first reading recalls the original Passover in Egypt, where God delivered the Israelites from slavery through Moses, the sacrifice of an unblemished lamb, and the blood marked on doorposts to save the Israelites from the Tenth Plague (Exodus 12).

• Jesus redefines the Passover at the Last Supper: instead of the lamb’s blood, His own Body and Blood become the new Passover sacrifice (1 Corinthians 11:23-26).

• The Last Supper was earlier than the traditional Passover meal, as the actual sacrifice of the true Passover Lamb—Jesus—occurred on Good Friday (John 19:31-37).

• Through the Eucharist, Christ’s sacrifice is made present to the Church, establishing a New Covenant that frees us from sin and death.

        In what ways can I more deeply participate in the Eucharist as a personal encounter with the Paschal Lamb?

The Ministerial Priesthood and Servant Leadership

• Jesus instituted the Ministerial Priesthood at the Last Supper, entrusting priests to continue His sacred sacrifice through the Mass.

• In the Gospel of John (John 13:1-17), Jesus humbly washes His disciples’ feet, an act of servant leadership symbolizing His self-giving love.

• This gesture is a model for all Christians, but especially priests and bishops who serve God’s people as humble servants.

• True Christian leadership is expressed not through power or domination but through loving service to the poorest, weakest, and marginalized.

        How can I embody servant leadership in my community, family, or workplace? What does humble service look like in daily life, especially toward those in need?

The Commandment of Love and Forgiveness

• Jesus commands His disciples, “You also must wash one another’s feet” (John 13:14), a call to imitate His love and humility.

• This “Mandatum” extends to loving those who are marginalized, enemies, and those who have persecuted us.

• Jesus’s forgiving love, shown even on the Cross, invites us to follow His example of mercy and compassion.

• As we journey through the Paschal Triduum, we reflect on Christ’s immense love and allow it to inspire us to love boldly and forgive freely.

        Who in my life needs forgiveness or a demonstration of Christ-like love? How can I grow in forgiving others and serving with compassion as Jesus did?

As Pilgrims of Hope journeying through this Jubilee Year, the Paschal Triduum calls us to deepen our faith and commitment. Through the Eucharist, we receive the strength to persevere; through humble service, we learn to love as Christ loves; through forgiveness, we witness the power of God’s mercy in our lives. Let this holy time renew us so that, moved by hope, we may walk together as a community united in Christ’s love—ready to face the challenges ahead with courage and trust. May the celebration of this sacred Triduum fill our hearts with joy, peace, and an unwavering hope in the resurrection promise.

In God’s Loving Hands (Passion Sunday C)

There is a seeming contradiction within the liturgical celebration today. On the one hand, we start by re-enacting with joyous chants and with palms on our hands Jesus’ triumphant entry to Jerusalem. The reading before the procession (Lk 19:28-40) reminds us of the joyful welcome accorded to Jesus by his disciples as he entered Jerusalem. Surely they welcomed him as a king. They chanted thus: “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord. Peace in Heaven and glory in the highest” (v.38). Jesus’ entry to Jerusalem highlights his kingship. The mood is that of rejoicing and victory.

On the other hand, we later proceed in a sorrowful recounting of the crucifixion as a criminal of the same Jesus we hail as a king. “Crucify him! Crucify him!” This echoes disturbingly as the passion narrative goes on. And we listen to the account of Jesus giving up his last breath. The mood is, needless to say, sorrowful.

This seeming contradiction, I submit, is an excellent backdrop against which we can appreciate both Jesus’ resolve in turning down the people’s false expectations of him as a messiah and his unwavering trust in and submission only to the will of his Father.

We recall that the Lenten season begun with the readings on the temptations of Jesus in the desert (First Sunday of Lent). It is helpful to notice that truly the tempter haunted Jesus until his last moments. Towards the end of the passion narrative just before Jesus gave up his last breath, he would face his final temptation. Notice how similar is the test with that of the desert event: “Let him save himself, if he is the Messiah of God, the chosen one.” And “If you are the king of Jews, save yourself.” Finally, “aren’t you the Messiah? Then save yourself and us.”

The people, the soldier, and the criminal hanging on the cross challenge him to display his power. The challenge to save himself means to prove to the world that He is the one they have expected to come. The people’s joy on his entry to Jerusalem is laden with such expectations of a powerful messiah who will put an end to their oppression. If Jesus sees himself according to this expectation, then dying on the cross is out of the question; for dying means suffering the utter humiliation of defeat and meaninglessness. Indeed this is Jesus’ greatest temptation: To listen to the people’s challenge to save and prove himself; but in doing so, he will have to turn his back to the Father. His final temptation is to escape his death as it seems to lead to meaninglessness and to put things into his own hands.

But again Jesus’ total submission to the will of the Father prevails. Just before he expires, Jesus prays to the Father with so much trust in his love and fidelity: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.”

Here Jesus has shown us that, even in the face of seeming meaninglessness and utter defeat, he has faith in the wisdom of the Father. In the depth of his passion and the unfathomable mystery of his own death, he believes in the love of his Father. He trusts that in the loving hands of his Father everything will turn out fine.

We know, of course from the vantage point of Easter, that Jesus is vindicated. But to go through the experience of suffering and uncertainty of Lent is essential for the development of our capacity to trust in God’s love and fidelity. We are always tempted to put matters into our own hands. We desire so much to end the suffering around us as to be tempted to do it in our own terms and solutions. Oftentimes we tend to put our trust in our own plans and schemes oblivious of what God truly wills. 

As we walk our own journeys of faith, especially in times of suffering and uncertainty, we are called to emulate Jesus' unwavering trust and obedience to the Father. When our plans seem thwarted, our expectations unmet, or our hearts heavy with anguish, we must remember that, like Jesus, we are invited to reaffirm our trust in God's love and fidelity. In this Jubilee Year, let us embrace our role as “Pilgrims of Hope,” supporting one another through our struggles.

Let us unite our sufferings with Christ’s own passion, then we can also share in his resurrection. Armed with unwavering faith, we can face life’s challenges, confident that God's grace will guide us through the darkest valleys and towards the light of Easter joy. May we always hold in our hearts the same trust that Jesus exhibited, knowing that in God’s loving hands, we will find our true path, leading us to the fullness of life.

Father, I am superficial. I don’t see beyond what meets the eye. I don’t always understand your ways. Grant me then the grace to trust in you always and submit things into your loving hands. Amen.

Lest We Cast a Stone (5th Sunday Lent C)

 

In his exhortation during the Holy Year of Mercy, Pope Francis emphasized that all the faithful must contemplate the face of God's mercy and take the season of Lent as a privileged moment to celebrate and experience God’s mercy.

Jesus is the face of God's mercy. To contemplate on God's mercy, we need, then, to fix our eyes on Jesus. Let us do just that as we treat the gospel reading for today.

Today’s gospel reading (Jn 8:1-11) recounts the case of a woman caught in adultery. Her case is presented by the Scribes and Pharisees to test Jesus. If Jesus condemns her according to the Law of Moses, i.e. by stoning to death, he frustrates those who hope in his compassion and runs in conflict with the Roman law that has suspended the Jewish authorization to inflict capital punishment. If he pardons her, he can be accused of making light of the Law and lose his credibility before the people. But Jesus always outwits his malicious opponents. He manages to rise above the ploy to trap him and, what more, turns the occasion into one that instructs and teaches about the loving ways of God.

I suggest two things to consider for our reflection: First, Jesus’ invitation to self-examination and, second, his teaching on abhorring sin but loving the sinner.

Invitation to Self-examination. When the Scribes and Pharisees press him to give his position on the case, Jesus responds by saying, “let the one among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her” (v. 7). Far from condemning the woman to death, Jesus instead invites the self-righteous Scribes and Pharisees to examine themselves first. The gospel recounts how each one goes away starting with the elders unable to cast the first stone. 

When we examine ourselves, we begin to realize how much the power of sin has affected us too. We begin to see that we are in an unfortunate solidarity with the sinners. We stop pointing an accusing finger on other people and admit that we also share in the sins of humanity. We begin to see the utter hypocrisy of casting the stone on others and to realize that like anyone else what we need is not legalistic impersonal judgment but mercy and compassion.

In this season of Lent, let us honestly and courageously look into our own sinfulness and approach God not in the self-righteous stance of the Scribes and Pharisees but in the utter dependence of the adulterous woman on the mercy of God.

Abhorring Sin but Loving the Sinner. Just like the message of the Parable of the Lost Son, today’s gospel teaches us about God’s unconditional love for us sinners. As far as God is concerned, we continue to be his sons and daughters despite our sinfulness. Today’s gospel illustrates how slow God is in condemning us and quick in giving us a fresh start. His words, “Neither do I condemn you” (v. 11), express Jesus’ willingness to give the sinful woman a chance, a new lease on life. God does not give up on us easily. His love and mercy always triumph over the power of sin that wants to destroy us. God’s love and mercy recreates us to become once again his beautiful children.

“Go; from now on do not sin anymore” (v. 11). Jesus is also clear about abhorring sin. Part of the gift of new life is the commitment of rejecting sin. Our encounter with Jesus brings new life and our experience of his compassion empowers us all the more to abhor the scandal of sin. We are God’s children; we are destined to live in grace. Sin is a despicable deception whose sole objective is to mislead and destroy.

Hence, the season of Lent is a good time to express our indignation to sin... to our sins... and to live in the grace of God’s mercy. 

This reflection does not in any way wish to abolish our legal and justice systems. They are necessary for social order. We have to be aware though that they can be flawed. The message of today’s gospel is that we move away from vindictive system that casts the stones out of lust for vengeance and conceit of self-righteousness. We move towards restorative system that allows for renewal and the chance to mend what has been broken by sin. Let us not allow sin to have the last laugh. It is God’s love that recreates, God’s mercy that restores.

Lord, break the shield of my self-righteousness lest I cast a stone on others; allow your mercy to expose the despicable deception of my sins that I may abhor them and hope for your promise of new life. Amen.

The Father’s Embrace (4th Sunday Lent C)

“I don’t want my father to see me like this.” Many of us must have said this to ourselves during those times when we were not doing well in life and we didn't want to offend our father. Especially if our father has high expectations of us, we tend to hide our weaknesses and failures from him. We come to him only when we are fine and strong and at the top of the world. We want to show him how we have mastered ourselves and that we have clear directions in life. We want to please him. We want him to be proud of us. So, when we are not fine and our lives are a mess, we hide from him. We conceal our tears. We bear our suffering alone... because what we cannot bear is to see our father displeased and to experience being rejected by him.

This can be true to our spiritual life. How often we keep God at bay and allow our relationship with him to get colder each day because we have resigned to our feeling of unworthiness! I know, for instance, of someone whose prayer life is most intense when he thinks he has been doing well in life and he has been faithful to the Christian virtues. But when he thinks he has succumbed to his imperfections, he distances himself from God and waits until he has made himself fine again. It’s as if he can overcome his weaknesses apart from God!

Such is a lonely and wearisome life; because when things in life are in shambles, what we really need is a father’s embrace where we can cry our hearts out. In moments of huge failures, what we deeply long for is a father’s reassuring smile and a supportive pat on the back promising another chance.

In today’s gospel reading (Lk 15:1-3, 11-32) Jesus introduces such a gentle and loving Father through a parable. In the Parable of the Lost Son, it is striking to realize that when the wayward son comes back, the father does not care about WHY he comes back. He does not scrutinize his son’s motive which is not quite noble but is, in fact, still very selfish. The son returns not because of a perfect contrite heart and a burning desire to love his father this time around. No. He comes back for survival and self-preservation. He has been starving, so he thinks he’ll be better off as one of his father’s servants. But the father does not care whether or not his son comes back with a contrite heart. What he cares about is that his beloved son is back! So the father embraces his son without any conditions... without requirements. He embraces him as a son. The father accepts him not in the son’s conditional terms but in the terms known to the father—the terms of an unconditional love.

This thought is very consoling. The words of the spiritual writer, Henri Nouwen, bring this out well: “God does not require a pure heart before embracing us. Even if we return only because following our desires has failed to bring happiness, God will take us back... Even if we return because our sins did not offer as much satisfaction as we had hoped, God will take us back. Even if we return because we could not make it on our own, God will receive us. God’s love does not require any explanations about why we are returning. God is glad to see us home and wants to give us all we desire, just for being home.”

So why should we listen to the fearful voice that discourages us to come to the Father when we are not in good shape? We ought to listen, instead, to the voice of longing that calls out from the deepest recesses of our hearts for a gentle embrace of acceptance despite our hopeless inadequacies. Only God, our Father, can give us such an embrace. Only our Father embraces us as we truly are, warts and all.

This is why the season of Lent is as beautiful as the spring. It is a season when the Father’s loving embrace is waiting for us, his wayward sons and daughters, who have been chilling from the deadening coldness of our sins. God’s embrace is the warmth we desperately need in order to outgrow our freezing habits of sin.

In this season of Lent, we are invited to take refuge in God’s loving embrace. We come to him not because we are doing fine but especially because our mess is getting out of hand. We return to him not because our spiritual achievement is something that he can be proud of, but precisely because we are empty. We allow his arms to wrap around us not because we are whole but exactly because we are broken.

Father, I come to you in my brokenness repeatedly humiliated by sin. I’m ugly and not pleasing to you. But please... I beg you Father... embrace me just the same. Allow me to rest in the warmth of your love.

Season of Second Chances (3rd Sunday Lent C)

Once more, Victor Hugo’s novel Les Misérables (1862) comes to mind as I reflect on today’s gospel reading. The encounter between the protagonist, Jean Valjean, and Bishop Myriel is a powerful illustration of the grace of second chances.

Jean Valjean, who has just been freed from prison after long years of serving an unjust sentence for stealing bread for the starving family of his sister, has nowhere to go. He is hurt, filled with hatred, and is vengeful. No one trusts him. One day he comes to the place of Bishop Myriel and asks for shelter. Bishop Myriel is a just man and sympathetic toward the poor. With his characteristic compassion, he readily offers Valjean room and board. Not only that, he counsels Valjean to overcome his hatred with goodwill in order to be worthy of respect.

Valjean listens; but during the night, he robs the good bishop anyway and runs away with the bishop's silverware. Once caught, he is brought back to the bishop. However, the bishop tells the police that the precious objects are his gifts to Valjean. Later Bishop Myriel tells Valjean: "You belong no longer to evil, but to good. It is your soul I am buying for you. I withdraw it from dark thoughts and from the spirit of perdition and I give it to God!" Valjean is stunned. After stealing yet a coin from a little boy, he has an epiphany and since then lives his life anew.

Although Hugo’s novel is primarily a social critique on the oppression and injustices done against the poor, the weak, and the ignorant, it can instruct us spiritually too. The above excerpt illustrates the gospel’s call to repentance and the loving assurance of second chances in life.

In today’s gospel (Lk 13:1-9) two disasters (the killing of the Galileans and the Siloam tower tragedy) are being referred to, in the popular Jewish understanding, as God’s punishment for the sinners—very much like our concept of “gaba.” Jesus corrects this belief and teaches that what destroys is not God’s vengeance but our resistance to repent and change our lives: “But I tell you, if you do not repent, you will perish as they did” (v. 3, 5).

This is followed by the parable of the fig tree: For three years of waiting, the owner observes that the fig tree has failed to bear fruits. Even if the owner seems to be at the end of his rope, he nevertheless listens to the appeal of the vinedresser to give the tree one more year to bear fruits. If it does not, then it should be cut so as not to exhaust and put to waste the soil.

The simplicity of the parable expresses very clearly the necessity of repentance from a life lived in vain. God desires that we be fruitful. And not only that, he gives us the grace that we need to lead fruitful lives. He is willing to give us our second chance.

Bishop Myriel has manifested to Valjean such transforming mercy. Valjean, on his part, grabs the opportunity to make a radical change in his life and later in the lives of other people. Valjean has been given his second chance and he takes it. Once he does, he proves to be fruitful.

Lent can be for us a season of God’s mercy, God’s offer of a second chance. In this third week of Lent, we are invited to grab the opportunity to make meaningful changes in our lives. We are asked to examine the areas in our lives that have become stagnant and fruitless—perhaps because of anger and hatred? Or of self-pity and insecurities? Of addiction to pleasure and forms of vices? Of self-centeredness and lack of faith?

Let us ask the grace of repentance, of sorrow, of shame for wasting the beautiful opportunities of Christian life. With God’s grace, may we have a strong resolve to make use of our second chances to grow in Christian virtues thus allowing us to flourish and please God with our fruitful lives.

Lord, I am very sorry for my complacency. In your mercy, enable me to change, to grow, to do more and be more. Amen.

Transfiguration Brings Hope (2nd Sunday Lent C)

The event of the Transfiguration, where Jesus is revealed in His glory on the mountain, has so much to offer us as we journey through the season of Lent. It offers us hope in this year of the Jubilee.

We hear that Jesus went up the mountain to pray, and while He prayed, His face changed in appearance, and His clothes became dazzling white. Then, two great figures of the Old Testament, Moses and Elijah, appeared and spoke with Him. The disciples, Peter, James, and John, who were with Jesus, saw His glory. And then, a voice came from the cloud: “This is my chosen Son; listen to Him” (Lk 9:35).

This experience was not just a moment of glory, but it had a purpose. It came right after Jesus had spoken to His disciples about His coming passion and death. They were about to face a time of great confusion, fear, and uncertainty. So, what does Jesus do? He gives them a glimpse of His divine glory, a promise of what was to come—the glory of the Resurrection after the suffering of the Cross.

And isn't that exactly what we need, too? As we walk through Lent, a season where we are called to reflect on the suffering Christ endured for our sins, it's easy to become overwhelmed by the darkness of the world or even our own failures. The weight of our sins, our struggles, our personal suffering—it can feel heavy. But the Transfiguration, this shining moment of glory, reminds us that the darkness and destructiveness of sin do not have the last word. God's grace, His transformative love, and the hope of Easter have the final say.

We are, in a sense, invited to be pilgrims of hope during this season. Just as Peter, James, and John witnessed the glory of Jesus on the mountain, so we too are called to witness God's glory in our lives.

Three invitations in this Lenten season:

First, Trust in the Promise of Glory.  The Transfiguration is a reminder that suffering and death are not the end of the story. For the disciples, this moment on the mountain was like a foretaste of the joy that would come with Jesus' Resurrection. In the same way, as we journey through Lent and reflect on the suffering of Christ, we are reminded that God's glory will always shine brighter than the darkness of sin.

As we face our own struggles in life—whether physical, emotional, or spiritual—we are called to trust in God's ultimate promise. Yes, there will be moments of pain, moments where we feel lost or unsure, but we can hold onto the hope that the story doesn't end in despair. Christ's Resurrection is the ultimate victory, and we are invited to live in that hope.

Second, Listen More Closely to Christ. In the Gospel, God speaks directly to the disciples: "This is my chosen Son; listen to Him." (Luke 9:35). God doesn't just want us to see His glory; He wants us to listen to the words of Jesus, to the way He calls us to live, to the way He leads us into a deeper relationship with the Father.

This Lent, how can we listen more closely to Christ? It's easy to be distracted by the noise around us, by the demands of our daily lives. But God is inviting us into a deeper relationship. Are we making time each day to listen to His voice in Scripture? Are we opening our hearts to the wisdom He offers through prayer? In this season of Lent, let's commit to taking time to listen to Jesus, to hear what He wants to say to us.

Third, Be Witnesses of Hope to Others. The Transfiguration was not just for the disciples to experience in isolation. It was meant to be shared. Peter wanted to build three tents and stay on the mountain, but Jesus led them back down to continue the mission. The glory they witnessed was not for them alone; it was for the world.

Likewise, we are called to be witnesses of the hope we've received. Into the world filled with pain, fear, and confusion, we are called to carry the light of Christ, to be pilgrims of hope . This Lent, how can we share that hope with others? Perhaps through an act of kindness? A listening ear? or sharing the message of Christ's love through our Alay Kapwa?

We are called to let the glory we've experienced shine through our actions.

As we continue this Lenten journey, let us cling to the beautiful memory of the Transfiguration. In the midst of our suffering and our struggles, let's hold onto the hope of the glory of Christ. Let us listen more closely to Him, and let us share that hope with the world. For in Christ, the light of glory will always shine brighter than the darkness of sin. This is, indeed, hope.