Perspective of Faith (30th Sunday Ordinary B)

A good friend emailed me this story:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Squatters in Heaven (28th Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It belongs to one of your neighbors.”

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

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

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

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

(Photo from www.barangayla.org)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Scandal of Hell (26th Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Repeat 1st Stanza)

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

Listen & Proclaim! (23rd Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invitation to Greater Interiority (22nd Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Quest for Eternal Life (20th Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless God Draws Us (19th Sunday Ordinary B)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In life, am I driven or drawn?

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

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

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

Hawak Kamay sa Paglalakbay (All Saints Day)

A funny story I’ve always enjoyed retelling since my naughty high school years: Two Mr. Suave look-a-likes were bragging about their familiarity with the saints. This happened in such time when sporting a mustache is a fad. In those days, not to have a mustache is tantamount to being considered less a man! To find out who was truly knowledgeable, they agreed to do a contest. Each would have to mention a saint’s name. For every name one uttered, he would pluck a strand of the other’s mustache. (Just imagine what’s at stake, huh.) So the contest began.

Mr. Suave I: “St. Augustine!” He then plucked a strand of the other’s mustache which caused the other to be teary-eyed.

Mr. Suave II: “St. Joseph!” Then he did the same to the other.

“St. Therese!” “St. Magdalene!” “St. Thomas!” “St. Francis!” So on and so forth… They were both shedding tears because of the pain. Then they came to the point that one could no longer recall a saint. Mr. Suave II began to be frantic for he was about to lose, when all of a sudden he grinned and, at the top of his lungs, shouted, “Todos Los Santos!”

Ouuucccchhhh! That ended the mustache era.

All Saints Day Solemnity is honoring not just a favorite saint but all the unsung heroes of outstanding love and dedication to Christian life whom we believed have made it, “without much fanfare,” to heaven. While our devotion to our individual patron saints gives us the opportunity to emulate the exceptional virtues of their lives and maybe rely too on their intercession, the celebration of All Saints Day brings to mind the “communion of saints” and offers us the chance to honor the whole crowd of saints.

John’s vision as proclaimed in the first reading (Rev. 7, 2-4, 9-14) depicts “the great multitude which no one could count from every nation, race, people, and tongue… who have survived the great period of trial.” This reminds us of the communal dimension of our destiny as God’s children. Our journey to God is not the individualist’s I-and-my-savior affair. Instead, today’s solemnity, instructs us that our journey is the path of loving relationship between us, as God’s people, and God, as a Trinity—a community of persons. Our responsorial psalm rightly exclaims our desire as a people: “Lord, this is the people that longs to see your face.” Furthermore, the second reading (1 Jn 3, 1-3) reminds us that we are called “God’s children” because of the Father’s love and we shall see him as he is.

Again, we don’t journey as isolated individuals. We journey as a people… as children of God… as a family of God towards a destiny which is nothing but communion with one another, with the whole of creation, and with the Triune God.

This is an invitation to rethink our convenient individualistic spirituality. We are challenge to rise above our propensity towards self-righteousness, our penchant to a holier-than-thou piety that looks down on others whose lives may not measure up to our own standards. We have to correct our anong-pakialam-ko-sa-yo attitude to life. Of course, any spirituality or relationship with God has to be very personal and unique to the individuals. However, it has to find its expression in the market place, its celebration in the community. After all, love, which is at the heart of Christian spirituality, cannot thrive in isolation. It flourishes in relationships. It blossoms in a fertile garden we call community.


So, if our definite future is communion of the saints as promised by what we are celebrating today, our present way of living must, to some degree, already conform to such a vision. We need to stop thinking as an isolated “I” in competition with others. We need to think family. Think community. Hawak-kamay… sa paglalakbay… as the song goes… in good times… in bad times… in the very dry seasons… and in the very wet seasons of this changed climate!

The beatitudes proclaimed once more in the gospel reading (Mt. 5, 1-12) are the key towards our transformation into a holy community not only in that definite future but already in the here and now. To be “poor in spirit,” for instance, can be an invitation to be free from material enslavement and to be free for equitable sharing of possessions so that our poor neighbors may indeed have their share. To “mourn” may be an invitation to empathize with those who are suffering and therefore move beyond our selfish personal whims and caprices to reach out to them. To be “merciful” is to be forgiving to those who have wronged or hurt us. It’s an invitation to reconciliation—a necessity for any imperfect human community. To be single-hearted is to make God our deepest longing and priority in life rather than the misleading materialistic values to which our secular society is helplessly being configured. To be “peacemaker” is a challenge to work for harmony in this fragmented society. To endure persecution and insult because of the Lord’s name is to share in the redemptive suffering of Christ.

We are destined to be a community of saints in heaven. Many of our brothers and sisters, by God’s grace we believe, have gone ahead of us. We honor them today. But while on this earth, we can endeavor to make our families and communities conform to that glorious community of saints we are hoping for. Let us be guided by the path to happiness laid out for us by the Lord’s teachings on the beatitudes. No one journeys in isolation. We journey together as God’s family. Hawak-kamay… sa paglalakbay.

The Voice of the King (Christ the King)

No doubt, he is the king. With the manner he dominated and demolished his last opponent, the remaining skeptics who have had lingering doubts about his superior world class prowess are now totally convinced he is indeed the king of the ring. Manny Paquiao truly deserves the world-boxing legendary title, “The Pound-for-pound King!” Manny rules… Yo!!! Once again, a kingly welcome as he comes home is in order.

Today we give honor not to the king of the ring though but to the King of kings—Jesus Christ. On this Feast of Christ the King which signals the end of the liturgical year, it’s fitting to ask ourselves how we have given honor to him. How have we shown allegiance to our King?

You see, the king of the ring publicly bows and kneels in his corner before and after every fight presumably to entrust everything to the God he believes in. So far he is successful in his every fight in the ring. He is happy. His fans are happy too. It seems to all of us that God is on his side even as we wonder how God maintains impartiality in respect to the equally ardent prayers from the Mexican or Puerto Rican corner.

Apparently the king of the ring entrusts to God his every fight. But will he allow the same God to lead his life outside the ring? Some believe that this is his greatest challenge now. Not Mayweather! With the blinding success that has brought his life unimaginable wealth, inebriating fame, and endless opportunities of every sort unknown to him before (like politics and romance?), will Manny Paquiao still bow and kneel to let God be God of his life—not only during his boxing bouts that continue to make history; but also in his personal life as a husband… as a father for instance? Or let say, as a future congressman?!!!!!

Do we allow Jesus to be the God of our life? Is he the King whose commands we are following?

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

Kings rule in the external public forum—the socio-economic and political affairs—which is configured by men and governed by them. No. Jesus is King not of that order. His kingdom does not rely on military strategies, or on economic systems, or on political power. Instead, Jesus is king of the internal forum—the affairs of the heart, the arena of conscience—where the deepest spiritual strivings and the search for the truth transpire. As such, this arena is far superior to the former. The allegiance of the heart is immeasurably more profound than any external public adherence, say, to a political party. Thomas More, for instance, is remembered by his remarks just before his execution: “I die as the king’s true servant, but God’s first.”

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

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

Why would we like to do this? Because he is a king whom we can trust! He is a king whose self-sacrifice on the cross dispels any doubt about the magnanimity of his love. He is a king whose only desire is the ultimate joy and total fulfillment of his beloved subjects. He is a king who holds the truth which we, shortsighted human beings as we are, always fail to see on our own. We readily see the externals. The superficial. The glossy coating. Because, in seeing, we use only our eyes and not our heart. And we fool ourselves by jumping into the conclusion that the window dressing we see is the be-all and end-all of life. So tragic that many have lived by it… and eventually died for it… with the greatest uncertainty, very much unlike Sir Thomas More, if there ever was a meaning to life.

We need to listen to his voice in the deepest recesses of our hearts.

We end this liturgical year with this Feast of Christ the King. Let us ask ourselves: Have I recognized his voice and truly listened to him through out the year? Has my life been a little different because I have allowed God to lead me from within? Is He truly my King?

"What Are We Empowered For?" (25th Sunday B)

A favorite story among us seminary formators (at St. John Vianney Theological Seminary) is a joke about a monsignor who can’t wait to become a bishop. The story has it that the monsignor has been summoned by the Papal Nuncio to his office.

Nuncio: Monsignor, I’ve arranged this confidential meeting in order to bring up to you the fact that you are being considered to become a bishop. And I… (Monsignor interrupts).
Msgr: Well, that’s just great, Your Excellency! May I know when is my ordination?
Nuncio: Ah… Monsignor… I want you to think about it first… pray over it first. Okay?
Msgr: Okay, Your Excellency. (Frantically looking around) Where’s the chapel? Where’s the chapel?

There’s a tagalog expression that best describes this monsignor--Atat na atat! I recall, about three weeks ago, the Inquirer columnist Conrado de Quiros used this term, atat na atat, to describe many of the presidential wanna-bes for 2010 elections. He even went as far as to call for voters not to support aspiring leaders who are atat na atat. I think the logic behind his precaution is quite obvious: Those who are atat na atat are up for power and personal glory. Most likely, serving the people is the least of their concern.

"No one stands as straight and tall as he who bends to help the poor."Jesus’ message in today’s gospel is one of reproach for those who are atat na atat for power and personal glory. In the gospel reading, Jesus, for the second time, predicts his eventual suffering and humiliation on the cross—a reversal of the expected power and glory of the messiah. But still the whole point seems to escape his disciples’ understanding. Jesus finds them still preoccupied with the debate about who is the greatest among them! So Jesus, in plain and simple language, teaches them saying: “If anyone wishes to be first, he shall be the last of all and the servant of all” (Mk. 9:35). Jesus then presents a child for illustration to make the point crystal clear: In God’s reign, the greatest is the one who stoops down to serve the least.

I’m aware that discussing politics on the pulpit irritates some people. But today’s gospel message lends itself to our on-going political concerns specifically the search for public leaders in 2010 elections. Do we have candidates whose idea of greatness is that of the gospel? Who sees public position as opportunities to serve and not to be served? As we continue to discern as a people about who we would like to lead us and also how we ourselves act as leaders in our own varied capacities in the communities, we may do well to be instructed by the gospel today. I would have us reflect on two related things that directly emerge from the gospel: On servant-leadership and on preferential option for the poor.

Servant-leadership. For the most part of our life as a people, leadership has been associated with power. The power that has colonized us for centuries… the power to govern with a strong hand… the power to manipulate democratic processes to maintain positions “on the top of the world”… the power to control resources and wealth in the hands of the few… the power to conceal the truth… So we have come to believe as a matter of course that leadership means power to lord it over.. But as we recall Lord Acton’s statement, “power corrupts and absolute power corrupts absolutely,” we ought not be surprised why we top the list of most corrupt nations today.

The lesson that Jesus teaches is simple and clear: Servant-leadership. But like the early disciples, people choose not to understand. To be great is to embrace the humble stance of a servant. A great leader, in the eyes of God, is not one that maintains at all cost one’s glory and power for one’s own sake but one that harnesses whatever influence is under his disposal for the common good. A great leader is one who serves. For centuries now, this simple lesson seems to escape our nations understanding and commitment. It’s high time we heed the wisdom of God. Let us identify leaders who are servants at heart. And what’s more, let us realize something that lies in our own hands; let us be servants in our own capacities.

Preferential Option for the Poor. Whom are we serving? We really don’t mind serving people of great stature, do we? We take pride in having served in one way or another someone we deem significant. Or we think we are serving when we attend to someone who would most likely serve us in return or pay us back in whatever form. “Bahala’g ‘water-boy’ ra ko, si Manny Pacquiao man sad akong tagaan og tubig!” But can I be a ‘water-boy’ to a thirsty child in the street? The child that Jesus presents in the gospel may well represent anyone or any sector in society who is helpless, powerless, nameless, dependent, insignificant, incapable of paying back—the poor.

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

Hopefully, the gospel message today spurs us to a continuing critical discernment about the brand of leaders we truly need today as we prepare for the national elections in 2010 and as we go on with our day-to-day vocation to use whatever power is entrusted to us in the service of the lowliest.

“What are we empowered for?” I’ve heard it said with a tone of entitlement and self-indulgence and with a sense of being atat na atat from people of position and power. May the simplicity of Jesus’ message allow us to see quite clearly the real answer—for the service of the poor.

A Lonely Place (16th Sunday B)

Spa centers are proliferating in our cities. People go there to give themselves a break from their hectic daily schedule. Life today is becoming more and more stressful. A cozy spa promises to offer the much needed relaxation. "Pamper yourself," a spa ads goes. It's appealing to a tired and stressed people.

Jesus was also aware of the apostles' need to rest. "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while" (Mk. 6:31). This he enjoined his apostles as they came back from their mission. How consoling these words are for someone who's been committed to the work of God's Kingdom and for those concerned for the betterment of humanity. The work can be tiring. Replete with pain and sacrifices... as this is the cross we have committed to carry. Suddenly the Lord does not mention the cross. This time He sends invitation to REST in a deserted place. The Lord knows we can get tired and we need to R... E... S... T...

I don't know if the spa really satisfies the fatigue that we feel. But the Lord's 'deserted place' truly can. In that place where He invites us we truly find R... E... S... T...

Renewal. Evaluation. Silence. Thanksgiving.

Renewal. Our deserted place is a place of renewal. A place that energizes us for the mission. As we emerge from the place, we obtain new zeal, new strength to continue facing life's struggles and mission.

Evaluation. Coming away to a lonely place also offers time to look back and examine the direction we have taken, the soundness of the decisions made, the goals set to be pursued. We check if these are still in consonance to God's will.

Silence. The lonely place is a place where we are not alone. For God is there to meet us. Only in silence that we allow ourselves to be sensitive to God's presence. In silence, we can relish the warmth of God's love that we otherwise do not notice in the heart of our busy life.

Thanksgiving. When we are renewed, when we have examined ourselves and our decisions, when we are bathed in the reassuring love of God, we find our hearts filled with gratitude. and from the fullness of heart, the mouth utters a thankgiving to God.

So, where is that 'deserted place' for you and for me? Should we not then make it a point to meet the Lord there when we need to R... E... S... T... ?

Simplify... Simplify... Simplify (15th Sunday B)

Last week, millions of people watched the funeral service of the “King of Pop.” It’s as if the whole world mourned for his death. Maybe some of us here are still grieving for the loss of an idol in music and in dancing. We’re gonna miss the moon-walk. I’ve tried to learn the steps since high school… until now, in this age of arthritis, I’ve never perfected it.

MJ has been idolized by millions. He had everything the world had to offer. Fame. Wealth. Comfort. But from what I’ve gathered in watching TV discussing his life, the King of Pop seemed to have been a very sad, and lonely man despite what he had. He had to resort to drugs and pain-killers to give him peace. He lived a very extravagant lifestyle spending $20-30 M a year more than what he earned! Until his death, you see $25,000 worth of solid bronze and 14 karat gold plated casket was ordered for his funeral. A blogger exclaimed, “Do you have any idea how huge is that amount for a coffin? The money could have been spent for millions of hungry people!” Or it could’ve been donated to SJVTS to help poor seminarians.

I’m not making a judgment on MJ’s life here. Only God knows who he really was. He was an icon, for sure, in the entertainment world; People idolized him; but I think for those who search for authentic meaning in life, he was not the “way, the truth, and the life.” In fact, when we turn our attention to Jesus’ teachings and life, we discern without difficulty the stark contrast between Jesus’ message and that of MJ’s life.

Today’s gospel for instance, exhorts Jesus’ disciples to travel light. This is something MJ found very difficult to do with his extravagant lifestyle.

Jesus, the way, the truth, and the life, reveals a secret for a contented, purposeful and trusting way of living. The secret in three words as Fr. Guillemette says: simplify, simplify, simplify…

Very simple indeed. Simplicity of lifestyle is what the Lord exhorts his followers to have. To be simple does not mean to be suffering from want and to lack what one needs in life. To be simple is to live within the bounds of the basic necessities in life. Mark’s gospel records Jesus’ instructions: “bring nothing for the journey except for walking staff and sandals.” In other words, bring what is necessary and what facilitates your purpose.

But what about this? “Bring not even food or money!” If Jesus is addressing us today, maybe many of us would be very quick to react: “Wait… are you serious? No food and no money?” “Ok, I’ll bring credit card instead.” This reflects our insecurity and our dependence on money.

Two things will help us see the meaning and relevance of this gospel on simplicity. First, single-mindedness for the mission. Second, dependence on God’s providence.

Single-mindedness. Jesus exhorts his disciples to travel light. To bring only what is necessary because this facilitates the achievement of the purpose for which they are sent. The disciples are to preach repentance, to cure the sick, to expel demons, in short to announce that the reign of God is at hand. This is the purpose. This is the mission. The disciples ought to always have this in mind. Material possessions are cumbersome and its accumulation can distract them from this mission. But to travel light is to be single-minded about one’s goals. A disciple should always be on the go. (The cebu pacific travel agent asked me: “Go light, Sir?”)

You see to be simple is to be single-minded for the mission, undistracted by the glitters of Gold that this world offers.

Rick Warren wrote a book, The Purpose Driven Life. Life has a purpose. It is our task to discern what that is and to be directed by that God-given purpose. So, it’s best to ask ourselves, “What is the god-given purpose of my life?” Without it, my life is gonna be disoriented… directionless… easily swayed by the many tantalizing options offered by this materialistic and consumerist society. When our purpose or mission is unclear, it is easy for us to settle into living an extravagant lifestyle because we are misled to think that this is what life means. The irony though is that when our purpose is not fulfilled we experience the deepest, disturbing loneliness—one that no amount of money can allay. So again, “What is my purpose or mission in life?” All the things I have are mere instruments to attain this. So it’s much better to simplify in order to be single-minded.

Dependence on God’s providence. “Bring not even food or money.” It’s quite hard for a modern man to set out for his mission without these provisions. That’s why we may react like this, “Okay, no money… but I’ll bring my credit card instead.”

The Lord here is not saying that we will not be needing food nor money in doing our mission. The gospel reminds us that the disciples have to depend on the support of generous household who will accept them. Making money is not the disciples’ mission. They have to rely on the generosity of those to whom they have been sent. They have to trust in God’s providence. And believe that what God requires, God also enables.

A good illustration, I think, is the partnership of seminary formators and, you, dear benefactors in achieving the purpose or the mission of this seminary. Making money is not the primary concern of the seminary. By God’s continuing providence, it continues to achieve its purpose of forming future leaders of the Church through the generous support you have been extending. Dear benefactors you are the sign of God’s providence as far as the seminary mission is concerned.

In this age of strategic planning, we do not leave any room for chance. Everything is planned from the objectives down to the budget needs. Somehow we tend to leave God out of the equation. And go on with our projects as if we are the ultimate director of things. And when things go wrong we end up taking tranquilizers to give us peace… to save us from depression… or even from going insane. Or the worst is, like some of the richest persons in the world hit by global financial crisis, we end up jumping on a speeding train to call it quits.

Like the early disciples of Jesus, we need to trust in God’s providence. This is a humble stance, recognizing that we are not in control of everything. And many things are uncertain. As one saying goes, while we work so hard as if everything depended on us, we ought to kneel and pray as if everything depended on God. Again, it’s good to remember: “What God requires, God also enables.”

So when we set out to do our mission, we ought to be single-minded unburdened by attachments to material possessions as we put our trust in God’s providence. In short, simplify… simplify… simplify…