Star of Hope (Epiphany Sunday A)

When did giving hope become wrong?

I recall an episode of the TV series Honesto . In one powerful scene, Lourdes—the adoptive mother—is anxious because her son longs to know his real father. She is disturbed that people around the child are giving him hope. Then her old father, Lemuel, gently but firmly confronts her and asks: "When did it become bad to give hope?" Lourdes answers defensively, "When you know there is no hope!" But Lemuel looks at her and says with wisdom: "There is always hope. Just be afraid of losing the child."

That question echoes in our hearts today: When did hope become something to fear?

The Feast of the Epiphany gives us a clear answer: it is never wrong to give hope. What is wrong is extinguishing hope out of fear, insecurity, or selfishness.

Star of Hope in a Dark World. In today's Gospel (Mt 2:1-12), a star appears—a star of hope . It leads the wise men through darkness, uncertainty, and long journeys until they find the Child, Jesus. This star announces that God has entered history , that light has broken into the night, and that salvation is not only for Israel but for all nations .

Yet not everyone welcomed this hope.

King Herod, the most powerful man in the land, was deeply troubled. Why? Because hope threatens those who cling to power, control, and fear. What was good news for the poor and the searching became a danger for the insecure. So Herod plotted death instead of welcoming life.

Here we see a painful truth: hope can be resisted —especially by those who benefit from darkness.

The Enemies of Hope: Fear, Resignation, and Pessimism. If we are honest, sometimes we are like Herod . Sometimes we are like Lourdes before her awakening. We hesitate to allow others to hope.

What are the enemies of hope today?

Fatalistic resignation : "This is just life." We tell ourselves and others that poverty, corruption, injustice, and violence are unchangeable—that this is our destiny.

Defeatist pessimism : We no longer believe that honesty can triumph, that leaders can be accountable, that peace is possible. Everything is mocked, doubted, and dismissed.

Crab mentality and fear of being left behind : When someone tries to rise, to change, to dream, we pull them down—because their hope exposes our own fear.

These attitudes become especially dangerous amid the current struggles of our country--- corruption that steals from the future of our children;  workers and farmers barely surviving;  families burdened by rising prices and job insecurity;  young people tempted to leave the country—or worse, to give up on life.

When hope is crushed, despair grows. And despair is not from God.

Becoming Missionaries and Stars of Hope. The Epiphany invites us to make a choice: Will we be Herods—or wise men?

The wise men did not stop at darkness. They journeyed . They searched . They trusted the light they were given , even if it was just a star.
Hope is not passive. Hope walks. Hope seeks. Hope believes that God is already at work, even when we do not yet see the full picture.

Pope Francis, in his Bull for the Jubilee of Hope, reminds us: "Hope does not disappoint, because it is born of love and grounded in the love that flows from the pierced heart of Jesus." This is why Christian hope survives corruption, poverty, and suffering—because it is anchored not in politics or power, but in Christ.

To be Christians today is to be missionaries of hope : In our families, by refusing to give up on one another; in our communities, by choosing honesty over convenience; in our nation, by believing that change is possible and working for it; in our Church, by pointing people not to ourselves, but to Christ.

When we carry Christ in our hearts, we ourselves become stars —guiding those who are lost, comforting those who are tired, and reminding those in darkness that God has not abandoned them.

It is never wrong to give hope. Hope is lost only when we surrender to fear and despair. As we celebrate this Epiphany, may we seek the Lord like the wise men and dare to become bearers of hope in a wounded world. To those walking in darkness today, may they find light in us.

When did it become a bad thing to give hope? Never. Because our hope is the Lord.

Springtime of Renewal (1st Sunday Lent B)

Lent is from an old English word Lencten meaning “spring”—a season when days are lengthen and all of nature comes alive after the sleep of winter. Lent is a springtime, a period of renewal and growth in the life of the spirit.

Three images—desert, flood, rainbow—in today’s readings will show us why. The “desert” experience brings intimacy with God; the “flood” experience brings conversion and new life; and the “rainbow” experience brings hope and confidence in God’s victory. Let us reflect on these three images and allow our Lenten journey to be as flourishing as the spring.

The “desert” experience brings intimacy with God.  The first image is that of the desert. In today’s gospel (Mk. 1:12-15), we see Jesus, after his baptism and before beginning his years of public ministry, being led by the Spirit “into the desert," where he is tempted by Satan. All throughout the Scriptures, the desert is often referred to as a place of trials and of purification from all idols. The Israelites lived in the desert for forty years in order to be tested and purified of their idolatrous habits. Jesus is also tested in the desert and offered the idols of power, wealth and fame. But he passed all trials by his fidelity to the Father. 

The desert is a place where our illusions of self-sufficiency and comfort fade away. When we are in the desert we quickly realize that we need God. Lent is our desert experience too. For forty days our minds and hearts are trained to be faithful to and intimate with God. The three traditional disciplines of Lent help us towards self-emptying and intimacy with God: Fasting sets us free from self-centeredness; our works of mercy lead us to serve and love our neighbors in need; and the discipline of prayer brings intimacy with God whom we choose to be the center of our lives.

Let us allow this season and its disciplines to lead us into greater intimacy with God. What would represent the desert experience for my journey this season of Lent?

The “flood” experience brings conversion and new life. The second image in today's first and second readings is the flood.  The 40-day flood in Noah’s time was God’s act of washing away sin and evil from the earth in order to forge a new beginning.  That ancient flood of water foreshadowed Christian baptism.  In the second reading (1 Pt 3: 18-22), Peter tells us that we are now saved by a baptismal bath which corresponds to the great flood: the waters of baptism washed away all that is sinful in us and we enter into a new life, a new covenant relationship with God.

Lent is our “flood experience”—our opportunity for repentance and conversion as the Gospel reading today calls forth: “Change your ways and believe the Good News” (Mk 1:15). Our Lenten journey looks forward to the renewal of our baptismal promises on Easter and invites us to accompany those who will receive the gift of new life through baptism.

We ardently pray therefore for the grace of a life-changing repentance and the joyful appreciation of our new life in baptism.

The “rainbow” experience brings hope and confidence in God’s victory. The third image is the rainbow. In the first reading (Gen. 9:8-15), the rainbow is a symbol of God covenant with Noah. We can grant that Noah had completely no idea about the prismatic refraction of light in a rainbow as its scientific explanation, but he did understand its spiritual meaning. The rainbow stands for God’s covenant with him—God’s promise of victory over the destructive power of sin. In Jesus Christ God fulfilled this promise.

Life on earth is difficult. We still experience the oppressive power of sin and the suffering it brings. Lent offers us our “rainbow” experience. Lent helps us anticipate the glorious victory of Christ on Easter Sunday. Lent allows us to remember even in the face of unspeakable sufferings that there is always hope and we can be confident that Jesus, who himself was crucified, will not let us down as He has overcome the destructive power of sin in his resurrection.  

Can I also be a “rainbow” to others who are experiencing defeat in life? Can I share to them my hope and confidence in the victory of God?

Indeed, Lent is a springtime, a season when our spiritual life blossoms as we experience intimacy, renewal, and hope.

Our Only Hope (5th Sunday Ordinary B)

“Life is difficult.”  This is the first sentence of Dr. M. Scott Peck’s bestseller, The Road Less Travelled. Life is filled with problems and pain. Many people attempt to avoid problems and suffering instead of dealing with them because most of the time people cannot understand what’s going on. The story of Job, a portion of which is in our first reading (Jb. 7:1-4, 6-7), tackles the seeming meaninglessness of life in the face of unexplainable suffering.  Job speaks: “Is not man’s life on earth a drudgery?” (v. 1) “Remember that my life is like a wind; I shall not see happiness again” (v. 7).

Most part of our lives may indeed be without rhyme or reason.  Today you’re doing fine, feeling strong and invincible, relishing at last the confidence of being on the top of the world; but tomorrow you’re suddenly down and out despite the fact that, like Job, you’ve played it fair and square.  Is not life pointless? Both the bestseller, The Road Less Travelled, and the story of Job develop and come to an end with the conviction that there are ways of responsibly facing and resolving our problems and beyond our self-discipline and loving response there is a force which we can’t fully explain but effectively works to bring us to wholeness. Dr. Scott Peck identifies it with grace. The author of Job identifies it with God who restores everything that has been lost.

Only God brings hope to this otherwise unexplainable and pointless struggle we call life.  Today’s gospel reading (Mk. 1: 29-39) presents to us Jesus Christ and his ministry of hope.  The whole town gather around him in search of answers to their various sufferings. Here one can perhaps visualize the crowd that gather during the feast of the Black Nazarene in Quiapo.  There is just so much pain and suffering among the people.  Maybe out of desperation, they would push and shove just to be near the source of miracles, Jesus Christ, who for them certainly stands for their only hope.

The author's first charcoal painting some time in 1994.

We can bring out and reflect on the three approaches of Jesus in his ministry of hope in today’s gospel—his ministry of healing, praying, and preaching.

Jesus, the Healer.  The gospel depicts Jesus’ healing ministry.  He has gone to the house of Simon’s mother-in-law and cured her of her illness. After sunset, the whole town gathered at the door and he cured many of them of their various diseases and freed many from the possession of the evil spirits. Jesus brings hope to these suffering people through his healing ministry.  He sets them free from both physical and spiritual alienation. He restores what is taken away by the power of sin.

We can extend this ministry of hope. Our sacramental life offers us the sacraments of reconciliation and the anointing of the sick. These are the sacraments of healing that restore our wholeness.  To some extent, each of us shares in Jesus’ healing ministry. We can overcome the spiritual alienation wrought by sin when we learn how to forgive one another.  When we forgive, we heal broken relationships. We can overcome the physical alienation of people suffering from diseases when we truly care for them.  Mother Teresa, for instance, made this her ministry. She didn’t have the miraculous power to cure a terminal illness. But she did have the power of love to make sure that the dying would have their last breath knowing that they were loved and cared for.  Caring is our power to heal the broken-hearted and the physically ill. To forgive and to “caregive” is to bring hope to much of our suffering in life.

Jesus, the Pray-er.  Jesus reveals in this gospel that praying keeps the fire of hope burning.  The suffering and pain He encounters in the life of the people can be overwhelming.  He who ministers can be exhausted and can end up burned out even before he sees all the needs answered. Jesus’ practice of spending time in solitude, in His case early before dawn (v. 35), reveals the source of his sustenance in keeping up hope in the ministry. For Jesus, and for His followers, life only finds its direction, strength, and meaning in God.  Jesus’ solitude is not loneliness. It is intimacy with His Father in heaven. The Father’s will is always Jesus’ point of reference in everything He does.

Life can be burdensome, a drudgery, in Job’s language.  What is the point of all our endeavours in life? What is the meaning of our endless activities? When life is un-reflected, we only see the superficial.  All the happenings are like series of disconnected activities that randomly comes one after the other.  And when life brings suffering, all the more that we fail to see its meaning.  It is the time we spend in silent prayer that offers us a new perspective in life... a new way of seeing... a new meaning.  Again, the text message sent to me by a victim of typhoon Sendong is worth remembering here: “Even in the worst of times, there are a lot of reasons to be thankful for.”  I bet that person draws such a hopeful disposition from her silent moments of prayer. Prayer brings hope. Jesus has shown us that.

Jesus, the Preacher.  “Let us go on to the nearby villages that I may preach there also. For this purpose have I come” (v. 38), Jesus tells his disciples. It is when the Lord preaches that He enkindles the hope in the hearts of the people; most of them have been downtrodden.  Jesus’ preaching announces the Good News of the reign of God. The God of love reigns! The evil one is cast out. Repent! Believe in the Good News! Jesus’ preaching assures all of us that God has not left us in the hands of the evil one to suffer and rot. He assures us that salvation is ours for God is always a faithful God; He will always be on our side. God is doing just everything to bring back his oppressed people to his fold. In Jesus all these have come to fulfilment.

We can bring hope to the downtrodden.  Every time we proclaim the goodness of God in our lives, we continue the preaching ministry of Jesus.  Whenever we share to others how God has worked marvellous deeds in us, we lift up the spirit of those burdened by life’s misery.  And there are just thousands of them and more. 

Life is difficult. Jesus shows us the way to hope. God is our only hope.

Maranatha! (2nd Sunday Advent A)

We look around and we see conflict and division. Oftentimes these are manifested through violent expressions. Harsh words... malicious accusations... killings... war... terrorism. We also experience so much injustice in society. The evildoers seem to have their way and even rewarded; while the good suffer and unjustly punished. We deeply wish that things aren't the way they are now. “There has to be an end to these.” This yearning is our own experience of the longing of advent.  We long for harmony, peace, and justice.  Just as the people of Israel cried out, "Maranatha!" (Aramaic for “Come, O Lord!”) as they long for the coming of our Lord, we too long to see an end to our many sufferings.  When we are at it, we may as well magnify this yearning as we journey into the season of Advent. 

Today’s readings afford us both a vision of what we are yearning for and the way towards such a vision.  I’m speaking of Isaiah’s vision of the Day of our Lord and John the Baptist’s way of repentance.

Isaiah’s Vision. Our first reading (Is 11:1-10) is Isaiah’s oracle depicting the era of the Messiah. For Isaiah, the prophet of Advent in the Old Testament, the eschatological era of the Messiah will be characterized by justice for the Anawim (the poor one’s of Yahweh) as the Lord “shall judge the poor with justice and decide aright for the land’s afflicted” (v. 4). Not only that justice will reign, there shall be harmony in this eschatological age as signified by these images: “Then the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with kid; the calf and the young lion shall browse together, with a little child to guide them” (v. 6). There shall be peace in all the earth for “there shall be no harm or ruin on all my holy mountain; for the earth shall be filled with knowledge of the Lord, as water covers the sea” (v. 9).

A vision provides hope. It is to where we are committed to journey no matter what. The vision is what we yearn to happen now. We long for justice, for peace and harmony.  Despite overwhelming obstacles to our efforts, despite the fact that we can reach a point of exasperation, we continue to cling to the vision.  We continue to hope. And more importantly, as we feel helpless many times, we have to learn to trust in the promise of the fulfillment of the Reign of God. We don’t fulfill the vision with pure human will and creativity; it is the Lord who ultimately brings fulfillment.

This is, then, at the heart of Advent: Our anticipation of the Lord’s coming, the fulfillment of the vision. So when we are down and discouraged, exasperated and feeling useless, there’s one more thing to do: Cry out with total dependence on the Lord, “Maranatha! Come, Lord Jesus!”

John’s Way of Repentance. Our efforts, all too often, are motivated by egoism or by a do-it-my-way arrogance. No wonder we fail many times and we don’t progress towards the vision. John the Baptist, in today’s gospel reading (Mt. 3:1-12), has taught us the way—Repentance. “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” (v. 2). For John, repentance is how we prepare for the coming of our Lord. For him, who is the Advent prophet of the era of fulfillment, repentance is both urgent and concrete.

The kingdom of heaven is at hand! The fulfillment of the vision is now! Repentance, then, must not be delayed. It has to be done now. It is urgent; it must be prioritized.

And repentance must be concrete; it has to “produce good fruits” as evidence (v. 8). It cannot simply be a sentimental remorse for sin or a spur-of-the-moment intention to be better. Remorse and good intentions are a good start but these have to lead to concrete changes. Repentance or “metanoia” involves three levels of changes: The change of mind which means a new way of thinking; the change of heart which means a new way of valuing; and the change of behavior which means a new way of acting. All these are the ways of Jesus Christ. To repent is to turn away from our egoistic self and embrace the ways of the Lord, in St. Paul’s language, “to put on Christ.”

When we truly repent then, we allow Jesus Christ, the Lord, to reign in our hearts. Then everything in the vision follows—justice, peace, harmony.

Christmas lights are, no doubt, delightful to behold. But, alas, when we ignore the Advent requirement of true repentance, they may end up just as a colorful cover-up of a frightening darkness that secretly lurks within us and hovers around us. And we continue with our exasperation and helplessness in the face of the worsening ills of society wondering why our vision, or Isaiah’s, remains elusive. We need to listen to John. Repent.

Round the Advent Wreath (1st Sunday Advent B)

When Christian families and communities gather round the Advent wreath to light the purple and rose-colored candles, a beautiful story of hope unfolds. It is the story of a people who have had enough of the horror and darkness of sin and are now anticipating the dawning of light—the light of salvation in Christ.

As we begin the new liturgical year with the season of Advent, it is fitting to reflect on the symbolism of the Advent wreath in the light of today’s scriptural readings and hope to open our minds and hearts to this season’s invitation to intensify our longing for the coming of our Lord, our Saviour, our King.

The Advent Wreath. The symbolism of the Advent wreath is beautiful. The Advent wreath is a circular garland of evergreen branches that represents the eternity of God.  On the branches of the wreath, four candles are set to represent the four weeks of Advent.  Three purple candles and one pink candle are normally used. Purple is the color of royalty and penance. Hence, reminding us of the coming of the King and of the penitential aspect of the preparation. The pink candle symbolizes and anticipates the joy of Christmas as this is lit on the third Sunday of Advent, the Gaudete Sunday (Sunday of Rejoicing).  Optionally, a white candle, called the “Christ candle,” is set in the center of the wreath representing Christ, the sinless and spotless Saviour of the world.  This candle is lit on the eve of Christmas.

Taken as a whole, the Advent wreath is a symbol that calls to mind the long period of time when people lived in spiritual darkness, waiting for the promised Messiah, for the dawning of the Light of the world. Each year in Advent, people wait once again in darkness for the coming of the Lord—His historical coming in the mystery of Bethlehem, His final coming at the end of time, and His special coming in every moment of grace.

Period of Spiritual Darkness.  The joy of the anticipation of the break of dawn is greatest when people have had enough of the fear and insecurity of the darkness of the night. 

The period of spiritual darkness represents the life of the people without God or away from God.  The first reading (Is 63:16-17, 19b; 64:2-7) recounts how the Prophet Isaiah calls on God to “rend the heavens and come down” for God is believed to have hidden his face from his sinful and guilt-ridden people. The people of Israel, after having been restored to their homeland from Babylonian captivity, have again reverted to their sins of infidelity to God.

Isaiah has seen the depth of the spiritual darkness that has overtaken the people of Israel because of their sins. Thus, the prophet prays:  “Would that you might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways! Behold, you are angry, and we are sinful; all of us have become like unclean men, all our good deeds are like polluted rags; we have all withered like leaves, and our guilt carries us away like the wind” (vv. 4-5)

This state of sinfulness prompted the prophet to invoke God’s intervention in history to change the heart of a senseless people.  God is their only hope. The responsorial psalm expresses this: “Lord, make us turn to you; let us see your face and we shall be saved.” God’s intervention is the people’s only salvation from the darkness of their sins.

We too have some moments of darkness in life.  Even the great saints had to endure some “dark night of the soul.”  Perhaps, God allows this period of doubts, of hopelessness, or of spiritual drought so that we may discover on our own, as we hit the rock bottom of our senselessness, that God is our only salvation. In him alone is our hope. His light is our only way out from the dark pit of the night.  Hence, our hearts long for Him who is our light and salvation as the night yearns for the break of dawn.

Longing for the Light of Christ.  Gathering round the advent wreath to light a candle each day dramatizes our longing for the light of Christ.  We are a people who have had enough of the dark.  But left alone, we are doomed.  We have been enslaved by the power of sin.  We need Jesus Christ to free us from its deadly clutches.  Advent is the season when we knock on heaven’s door with a singular and urgent petition: “Come, Lord Jesus. And do not delay!” “Maranatha!”

Again, each year during the season of Advent we focus our awareness to the coming of our Lord.  We make as our own the expectation and hope of the people that have characterized Jesus’ historical coming in the mystery of Bethlehem, we heighten our anticipation for His final coming at the end of time, and we sensitize our hearts for His special coming in every moment of grace.

Hence, today’s gospel reading (Mk. 13:33-37) is but a practical reminder, as we begin the season of Advent, to be watchful so that we may not be caught sleeping when the Lord comes. 

We light each candle for each of the four weeks of Advent as our gesture of staying awake and watchful, ever mindful of the coming of our Lord-- be it his indwelling in our hearts each day or his final coming as our Judge and Saviour. And of course, for each candle we light, our hearts grow in anticipation of a beautiful celebration of Christmas, the commemoration of the coming our Lord in history.

As families and communities, let us then welcome the Light of our salvation, our only hope, the only power who can dispel the darkness that has shrouded our lives. Let this beautiful story of salvation be the story of our own families and communities.  Let this story of hope unfold once again as we gather round the Advent wreath.

Be Happy, Be BudŐy (33rd Sunday A)

My mother’s puppy needed a name.  Instead of the old-fashioned “Brownie” with which my mom started calling him, I came to the rescue and baptized him with the coolest name ever (next to Joey of course) — BudŐy.

BudŐy is the lead character of a primetime telenovela that revolves around the story of an autistic child born out of the morally contested in vitro fertilization procedure.  BudŐy ends up with a foster mother after he has been rejected by his image-conscious influential family who apparently wants to get rid of the humiliation that his autism might bring.  Despite all these,  BudŐy grows up as a wonderful person who brings with him his contagious joy advising people to “Be happy, be BudŐy!”  He shows his capability for a truly sincere and enriching friendship.  He endears his foster mother with his sensitive love for her.  He inspires his fellow with his dream and drive to become better and little brighter.  He has been deprived of a lot of things in life but he has got what it takes to warm people’s hearts.

This is inspiring. It’s so easy to wallow in the mud of self-pity when life seems to be unfair.  BudŐy stands for a person who has been given less in life but does not succumb to the temptation of defeat.  Instead, he rises above the seeming unfairness of life by capitalizing whatever little he has got.

Today’s gospel is the Parable of the Talents (Mt. 25:14-30). Three servants are entrusted with five, two, and one talent respectively to be invested in the master’s absence.  Talent was the largest unit of currency known at that time.  Other translations render a talent as a thousand silver pieces.  Hence, the first servant is entrusted with five thousand silver pieces, the second with two thousand, the third with one thousand silver pieces.  Today we understand talents as some skills and personal qualities we are gifted with.  While the parable does not intend to legitimize, much less glorify, the inequalities in life, it instructs us about our sense of responsibility especially in view of the final accounting at the end of time.  We are accountable to our Master.  Our accountability is in direct proportion to the abilities with which we have been entrusted. 

Much is expected from whom much is given.  Hence, the master in the parable is happy with the first two servants who manage to double the amount they have entrusted with. But while the master does not expect much from him who has been given very little, he still expects at least whatever enterprising spirit that could be harnessed with whatever little resources made available.  Hence, the third servant who just buried his talent out of his negative notion of his master is rightly met with his master’s anger and punishment.

Despite a long history of struggle for social revolution, the world remains the same.  The divide between the haves and have-nots are gaping still like a wide sarcastic smile taunting the sacrifices made by agents of change in the name of egalitarian ideals.  The more the disparity becomes glaring today when the name of the game is global competition.  Only the haves can possibly compete.  The have-nots are marginalized.  Will we ever live to see the ideals of equality actually put in place? Certainly not in this generation.  But we continue to hope.

The hope for change begins in our hearts.  We can better speak of a revolution from the heart.  To the haves, those given with a lot more “talents” than the others, in the spirit of the parable’s message of accountability, the revolution begins by dismantling all inner value systems that support an insatiable individualistic greed.  From its rubble, the haves are morally obligated to put up the value systems of social responsibility, equitable justice, and even charity.  Without this interior change, any attempt for structural change in this world will most likely end up with new external forms but with the same old vicious intentions.

To the have-nots, the inner change will have to begin with dismantling the defeatist outlook that subscribes to the helpless consignment of the poor and the less fortunate to their pitiful plight forever and ever.  The have-nots have to believe in their dignity, have to strengthen self-respect, and harness their innate capacity to rise above this seeming unfairness of life.  God is not happy with “worthless, lazy lout.”

But God must be very proud of BudŐy.