Not Counting the Cost (27th Sunday Ordinary C)

Can God ever be held indebted to us? When we render Him service, when we do sacrifices for him, when we offer him our lives under perpetual vows, for instance, have we done God a great favor? And does God, then, owe us his gratitude? Can we make a claim on God? Can we demand from him his kindness and mercy as if these were due to us by right?

(photo from http://newsinfo.inquirer.net)

Don’t we usually expect God to be generous to us or to be ready to grant our prayers precisely because we have been faithful to his commands? Human as we are, we do tend to view our relationship with God, as we view our human relationships, within the framework of commutative justice. We somehow see our relationship as a contract between two parties: I render you my services, my time, and my skills and you, in turn, give me the compensation that I deserve. Because of this mentality, many a times we demand as a right some recognition and reward for the good things that we have done. And if we do not get what we have expected, we turn sour and we become unhappy and we begin to lose our enthusiasm in serving.

Yes, we expect God to act within our concept of justice so much so that many times we cry “unfair!” when our expectations are not met. Or we simply and secretly harbor an ill feeling deep within us. But we need to understand that we drag God into this talk of justice only because we have been oblivious of the fact that whatever resources we harness in serving, like our skills, energy, talents, time, even our lives, are not ours but God’s. Even the very opportunity to serve is a graced moment offered to us by God. We demand reward because, in the first place, we have failed to see that everything that we have and are is a gift.

The vocation to serve as a duty. The parable of the homecoming servant in today’s gospel reading (Lk 17:5-10) sheds light on the right attitude called for by our Christian vocation to serve. In the parable, the master does not invite to sit with him at table his servant who just came home from working in the field. Rather, he asks the servant to prepare the table for him and wait on him while he eats. The fact that the servant has already worked in the field does not give him a claim of gratitude on his master. Those who render services for which they are employed deserve nothing more than what the terms of the agreement provide.

This is also true to Jesus’ disciples. In Jesus’ words: “When you have done all you have been commanded, say, ‘We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do’” (v. 10).

The vocation to serve as a gift. The point of the parable is that our Christian vocation is itself a gift. Our act of serving, as a vocation, does not give us a claim on the Lord. In the words of Roland Faley, TOR: In being the beneficiaries of God’s saving work in Christ, his followers are already “gifted”; anything to which they are subsequently called as Christians is, as might be said, done “in the line of duty.”

Hence, we cannot rightly demand God’s added favor and graciousness as due to us. Yet, God is in fact gracious to us. And this is not because He owes us. His grace is always free. It is freely given—a gift. We don’t work for it; we even do not deserve it. So these good things that come to us in our Christian life ought to be received in the spirit of gratitude. Since God does not owe us anything, his favor, when it pours, should always catch us by surprise.

Generosity in serving. As Christ’s true disciples then, the right disposition in living out our vocation to serve is that of generosity and self-giving. Let us be inspired by the prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola:

Lord, teach me to be generous.
Teach me to serve you as you deserve;
to give and not to count the cost,
to fight and not to heed the wounds,
to toil and not to seek for rest,
to labor and not to ask for reward,
save that of knowing that I do your will.

If only we can all take this prayer to heart, we can accomplish many more great things for God’s kingdom here on earth.

Looking back, what are the things which I refused to actively engaged in because I counted the cost or I did not see the reward I expected to get out of it?

What were those moments when I felt unhappy serving or I harbored ill feelings because I was not given “due” recognition?

A story to end: A friend of mine who takes the gospel seriously in her life shared to me her experiences in serving as a volunteer in the evacuation centers in Zamboanga during that historical "Zambonga Siege." While distributing food to the evacuees, it became apparent to her that many of the families she was serving were most likely families of those who attacked the city. They were mostly women and children. She began to feel angry and tempted to stop serving. But she continued because, according to her, the gospel imperative was very clear to her. Even if she found no reward in what she was doing, even if she was battling with her own disturbing emotions, she could not turn her back to her calling to serve those who are suffering at present.

This friend of mine has made me confident that, indeed, there are still true disciples of Christ who are ready to tell anyone, “We are unprofitable servants; we have done what we were obliged to do.”

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.

The Good Shepherd's Foolishness (4th Sunday Easter B)

Come to think of it, it’s quite absurd for our self-preserving and calculating natural orientation to go by the Good Shepherd’s sacrificial laying down of one’s life for one’s sheep.  It does not make sense for us to sacrifice our life, our highest value, for the sheep.  Something deep inside tells us “it’s not worth it!”  Our primary concern is to preserve our life; everything else is secondary.  Hence, we see the absurdity of Gods’ love for us. By human reckoning, to die for a sinful people is not worth it. The Good Shepherd laying down his life for us is beyond human logical calculation. But God’s love again is beyond human logic. God does not calculate when it comes to loving us. Even when we were sinners, the Good Shepherd did not hesitate to die for our sakes.

Today is the Good Shepherd Sunday.  Let’s open our minds and hearts to learn from our Good Shepherd. Three things for our reflection:

On Total Self-giving. The Good Shepherd’s total self-giving reminds us to overcome our minimalist stance in life. Jesus said: “I am the Good Shepherd; the Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Jesus does not calculate how much to give of himself.  He gives up everything. It’s total self-giving, the mark of real love. This invites us to examine and correct our very calculating and minimalist attitude in life.  We tend to give what is only expected of us—the minimum.  We measure what we give and what we do for others; and we have a keen sense of how far we ought to give.  Oftentimes we base our calculation on what the law or any social norm requires.  To give beyond that seems to be unwise, unpractical, or “lugi” in our business parlance.  To give more than what is expected sometimes leaves us a sense of loss or “panghihinayang.”  So we settle with our minimal self-giving.

We need to love like the Good Shepherd does in order to be able to give more of ourselves. We are his sheep. We follow our Good Shepherd. To the world, He is absurd; but we are not of this world.  Jesus’ absurdity is the wisdom of God.  We follow our Good Shepherd, not the standard of this world. Like what our psalm proclaims: “It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man. It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in princes” (Ps 118: 8-9).

On Serving with Care. The Good Shepherd’s way of ministering reminds us to overcome our tendency towards “economism.” We tend to view a lot of our life in terms of economic value.  Our work, for instance, has been reduced to an economic component.  We are reduced to becoming hired workers--with the emphasis on the “hired.”  We gradually lost touch of the deep vocational and ministerial aspect of our professions and jobs.  We are killing ourselves working hard for our pay. Nothing more.

The Good Shepherd’s commitment to take care of his sheep is especially contrasted with that of the hired shepherd. The former gives himself to service and to care for his sheep; the latter has no concern for his sheep for he works only for pay. Again, we follow the Good Shepherd.  While we give due value to compensation and the necessity of justice in wages, foremost to our concern is the dignity of our work.  Our work is a vocation to serve, to minister, and to care for those who are entrusted upon us.

On Proactive Living. The Good Shepherd’s free initiative in giving his life reminds us to overcome our tendency to react to life by complaining. Jesus said: “I lay down my life to take it up again. No one takes it from me; I lay it down freely.” Jesus was not a victim of circumstances. His sacrificial act is his free decision. He willed to die as a response to the utter need for salvation of his sheep. Oftentimes, we find ourselves reacting to what life gives us. And we complain a lot. We play victim. So we serve begrudgingly. Truly unhappy. And we persist in the unhappiness of doing things half-heartedly.

The Good Shepherd reminds us to stop playing victim.  Stop complaining. Be proactive. Act from conviction and free initiative. Only then will we truly be happy with what we do.

A taxi driver used to complain a lot until a passenger, apparently a successful businessman, pointed out to him how futile it was to complain in life. If he wanted to change his life, he must stop complaining and start to serve whole-heartedly.  So the driver began to take care of his taxi, cleaning it and polishing it well. He became friendly to his passengers and assured them of his honesty.  People began to be happy with his way of serving. They asked for his calling card and gave him generous tips. Now, while other taxi-drivers complain and spend a lot of time queuing, this driver is busy receiving calls and reservation from those whom he had served.  His life is changed.

The Good Shepherd wants us to follow his way and change the quality of our self-giving, our serving, and our living for the better—far better than we can imagine.

We Can’t Always Say Perhaps (4th Sunday Advent B)

Why does it take a lot of courage to say yes? 

Women, unsure of their feelings for their avid suitors who press them to give their answer, have a very convenient reply: “Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps!” (This is with or without a smile).  A variation in Filipino language is “ewan...” which means “Sorry. I don’t know. I’m not sure.”  Songs have been composed along this theme. They sure are amusing and cute.

While this reply is convenient when we find ourselves not ready to commit, a persisting non-committal attitude to life, however, can be disastrous or tragic.  We may lose our opportunity to make our choices and decide what ought we to do in life or what kind of person we want to become.  We may live life, taking our time, as if we’re not going to die and we die as if we have not lived.  Tragic indeed.

Life is a commitment.  So we can’t always say “Perhaps.”  In some life-defining moments, we need to say “Yes!”  Today’s gospel reading (Lk. 1:26-38), we witness once more the courageous fiat (latin for let it be done) of Mary.  This is Mary’s “Yes!” to God’s invitation for her to become the mother of Jesus, the awaited Messiah and Savior of Israel and of the whole creation. Let us allow Mary’s fiat to invite us, as part of our preparation for Christmas, to examine our own attitude to commitments to life and, ultimately, to God. 

Why does it take a lot of courage to say yes? Three ways to show why in the light of Mary’s yes:  Saying yes is a leap of faith.  Saying yes is realizing our destiny.  Saying yes is a commitment to serve humbly.

Leap of Faith. After hearing the angel Gabriel’s greetings and message, Mary “pondered” what this meant.  “How can this be?” She asked. Mary was in the face of something which, in her human reckoning, is impossible.  Yet, she said yes.  She said yes despite the clear danger that her having a child out of wedlock might bring her.

Saying yes to God’s invitation is a leap of faith.  One has to place everything in the hand of God believing that nothing is impossible with him.  To say yes is to trust in a faithful God—a God who fulfils his promise like his promise of a throne for David’s descendants that will last forever.

Like Mary, we say yes to God’s calling not because we are sure that we can deliver and succeed but because we are certain that God always delivers and succeeds through us. We only have to say, “Yes. Let it be done to me.” As the angel reminded Mary, we are reassured too:  Do not be afraid.  Take the leap of faith.

Realization of Destiny.  When God has promised, it is destined to happen in His own time.  Mary was placed at the threshold of the realization of what God has destined to happen and that is the coming of the long-awaited Messiah who will establish God’s Kingdom forever.  For this destiny to be fulfilled, Mary needed to say yes out of her freedom. Her fiat allowed her to participate actively in the fulfilment of God’s design.

We are not puppets.  We are not programmed to mechanically execute a design.  We decide whether to say no or yes.  Hence, we are responsible for the choices we make and their consequences.  Our decisions may thwart what is set by God for us.  To be able to fulfil our own destiny, to be able to become the kind of person we are called to be, we need to be decisive.  We cannot persist in our non-committal attitude to life like a shrivelled leaf adrift the river.  Destiny is not fulfilled this way.  God’s design calls for our active participation as it did for Mary’s fiat.

We say yes to God and allow the realization of God’s design in our lives.  We say yes and we fulfil our destiny.

Commitment to Humble Service.  Mary’s fiat came from a humble posture of a handmaid: “I am the handmaid of the Lord.  May it be done to me according to your word” (v. 38).  This is a decision to place oneself at the disposal of the Lord. This requires humility and readiness to be of service to God.

In this dog-eat-dog society, competition is the name of the game. When you’re into it, you want to show who’s the boss, who calls the shots, who’s the man.  It’s no mean feat to be committed to humble service in such an egoistic milieu.  

Christians who are in leadership positions in society are called to say yes to the ideals of humble service as Mary did.  We can make a difference.  Let us not allow the narcissistic style of this world to shape our way of being.  It’s our commitment to humble service that ought to teach the world.  Let our humble posture of service everyday convert the proud and self-serving inclinations of the world.

When our response to life’s opportunities and God’s invitations is always “perhaps” for wanting to be on safe grounds, we sure end up losing everything instead.  We ought to have the courage to say “Yes!” to life and to God.  In our preparations for Christmas, this last week of advent showcases to us the courage of Mary’s fiat.  With her brave and trusting yes to God, she made all the difference.  She made us all see that indeed nothing is impossible with God.

In this joyful season of Christmas, can we allow our contemplation of the mystery of God’s incarnation to evoke our own fiat?  

Finding Joy in God (Gaudete Sunday B)

Christian life, we have to face it, is quite demanding.  We speak of high cost of discipleship, of carrying our crosses each day, of self-denial and self-sacrificing love among others.  Without the correct disposition, our life in the Lord can end up as listless, unhappy and exhausting commitment of self-giving.  In fact, stern faces and humorless outlook in life are not uncommon among many serious Christians we meet.  Needless to say, this joyless witnessing is a source of discouragement for others to take Christian faith seriously. How can we be attractive when there’s no joy in the life we lead?

Joy is an essential disposition of a true disciple.  The demands of Christian life have to be carried out with a joyful heart.  Gaudete Sunday, the third Sunday of Advent, is meant to remind us of the fact that always God’s presence in our life is a cause for rejoicing.  All Advent biblical figures attest to this. We hear Isaiah exclaims, in the first reading (Is 61:1-2, 10-11): “I rejoice heartily in the Lord, in my God is the joy of my soul…” (v. 10).  Mary’s magnificat, too, is read as the responsorial psalm and we hear Mary exults: “My being proclaims the greatness of the Lord, my spirit finds joy in God my savior” (Lk 1: 46).  We recall too, though not in today’s readings, John the Baptist leaping with joy in her mother’s womb as Elizabeth and Mary greeted each other.

Do we find joy in God? Allow me to offer three ways of finding joy in God—the joy of gratitude, the joy of ministry, the joy of surrender.

The Joy of Gratitude.  There is joy in thanksgiving. No doubt about it.  St. Paul, in our second reading, tells the Thessalonians to rejoice and pray always and give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thes 5: 16). Christian life may be demanding but even before we are faced with the demands of our commitments to the Lord, God has favored us first as “He has looked with favor on his lowly servant”, Mary, that she may be called blessed in all ages.  Isaiah’s joy too is one of gratitude as he attests: “for He has clothed me with a robe of salvation, and wrapped me in a mantle of justice” (Is. 61: 10).

When God asks our commitment, he sees to it first that he endows us with the gifts required for fulfilling what he expects of us.  When we see it this way, gratitude then is our first response to God’s goodness.  Whatever we do for God, we do it with the joy of a grateful heart.    

How often, deep in our hearts, we demand from God our reward for being good in this life! This we expect with a stern sense of entitlement oblivious of the fundamental fact that we have been blessed already prior to our achievements and that we are good only because God has been good to us first.  

Advent allows us to rejoice because of the goodness of God in our lives.  An important Advent preparation then is cultivating a grateful heart, one that truly brings forth joy, as it recognizes God’s favor on us.

The Joy of Ministry.  There is joy in serving.  We sure feel physically tired after serving, yet at the end of the day, we wonder why a serene sense of deep satisfaction invigorates us from within.  I believe it is the quiet and gentle power of joy that revitalizes us.

I once worked in a rural and mountainous parish with an aging missionary as my parish priest.  Because I was young, nimble and quick, all ministering that involved going through the rough roads and dangerous trails of the countryside were understandably left to my care.  Always upon my return from these difficult areas, the kind old missionary would come to me with much concern in his face making sure I was fine.  Sometimes, for one reason or another, I could not make it to the barrio, he would volunteer to go as we were left with no choice.  As he returned home, I would meet him to see if he was fine.  On those days, he surely looked tired and older but, to my amazement, a lot happier.  He would look at me beaming with a joyful smile and say, “I’m back and I’m great!”

Such is the joy of serving.  This I believe is the same joy that exudes and makes the face of Mother Teresa beautiful—more beautiful than the fresh and pampered faces of those hailed Miss Universe.

Do we find joy as we serve in our ministry?  In our professions?

The Joy of Surrender.  There is joy in trusting and in believing in the faithfulness of God.  This is the joy of placing our lives at the hands of the faithful God. 

Sometimes, in this result-oriented society we are living now, we can become control freaks.  We spend a lot of our energy making sure that everything goes according to our wishes and plans.  We begin to become strict, intolerant, stiff, unbending.  We lose our flexibility and spontaneity.  All because we want to see our design successfully materialized, our set goals met and our plans well-executed.  Failures and adversities have no place in our lives.  Yet, the fact is, they do happen.  Not everything goes according to our design.  Hence, our contemporary life is marked by stress and anxiety.

To surrender to God is liberating.  Filipinos are said to be the happiest people despite formidable adversities.  I suspect this is because we know how to place our lives into the hands of God.  “Bahala na!” in its positive sense expresses our trust in God’s providential care.  We trust that in God’s wisdom, everything will fit together, everything will make sense.  So we learn how to let go and let God and get a life.

In our Christian life it is not our own will but God’s will that matters most, not our own design but God’s design.  Advent reminds us that like the prophets and Mary who listened to God’s will and trusted in God’s fidelity, we too may do well to surrender to God.  There’s so much joy in it.  Promise.

Royal Disguise (Christ the King A)

A story was told of a well-loved king who was curious about how his people were treating one another.  To know firsthand what was going on in his kingdom, he went into the villages disguised as a street sweeper.  There, to his utter dismay, he was ignored by many and insulted by some.  Very few were charitable to him.  He went back to his palace and instructed his ministers to do everything in their power to teach the people how to respect one another especially the poor.  After a month, the king disguised himself again, this time as a poor beggar, and mingled with the people. To his surprise, no one jeered at him nor ignored him.  Instead he was greeted with respect and people were charitable to him.  The well-loved king went back to his palace satisfied and praised his ministers for what they had done.  

What had they done?  The ministers had sent the messenger to spread the word that their beloved king was in their midst.  

The awareness that their beloved king was among them trained them to treat one another with respect. 
Even a poor beggar had to be treated with dignity because he might just be the king!

Christ the King and his identification with the poor. “I assure you, as often as you did it for one of my least brothers, you did it for me” (Mt. 25: 40). Once again today, as we celebrate the end of the liturgical year with the feast of Christ the King, we are reminded that our King has identified himself with the least of our brothers and sisters—the hungry, the thirsty, the stranger, the sick, and those who are in prison. To serve the King, we need not travel far and wide. We just have to see him in those who come to us in need.

Our generation is blessed to have known Mother Teresa of Calcutta. Her life was known to the whole world as an eloquent witness to an authentic Christian life. Her eloquence was not in her words. It was in her deeds. Or should we find her words very powerful despite the simplicity, it is because her words flow from her acts of love and commitment to help the poorest of the poor. When asked how she could endure all that she was doing for the poor like cleaning the wounds of a leper or feeding a malnourished child or embracing an abandoned dying AIDS patient, she would explain that it was the suffering Christ that she saw in them. The love that she lavished on them was her love for Jesus Christ, the King. Her words continue to reverberate: “No, I wouldn't touch a leper for a thousand pounds; yet I willingly cure him for the love of God.”

Our passivity vis-a-vis the poor in our midst. The poor, the hungry, the abandoned, the homeless, the sick continue to beg for our concern and love. Their continued presence in our midst might have so much inured us to the horror of poverty and destitution that we begin to accept with utter passivity that’s just how things are. We need not do anything. Or the other way around, we might just be so overwhelmed that we react with hasty and convenient solutions, the immoralities of which we are happy to cover up by actually believing that we are concerned about helping the poor. But in fact, we just hate them and their number. We want to get rid of them effectively!

This is not unthinkable in a society which is practically getting rid of God and his precepts. The poor, to whom Christ the King identified himself, are helplessly dispensable. The rich and the powerful, however, enjoy their cherished prerogatives.

Kingship as a Christian call to service. Today’s feast reminds us that in the Christian perspective, Kingship means servanthood. Nowhere else is the reversal of values more apparent than in this humble calling of a Christian king. Our readings for today bring to the fore the image of the Shepherd King—a King whose concern is not his own glorification but the welfare of his flock. Like Yahweh, the shepherd in the first reading culled from the book of Ezekiel (Ez 34: 11-12, 15-17), Christ is the shepherd and provider of his flock. Moreover, He will come, at the last judgment, as a Shepherd King who will hold us accountable for our human conduct on the basis of whether or not we have served one another and especially the least among us (Mt. 25: 31-46).

To a sincere Christian, the face of poverty and destitution is the face of the suffering Christ.  Others may show some concern for the poor for different reasons, political expediency being one of them; but a true Christian serves the least of his/her brothers and sisters for love of Christ, the King.

Among the many faces of the poor I am confronted with everyday, where is Christ the King that I may serve him with love in whatever capacity I am endowed with?

  

Serving Better and Humbler (31st Sunday Ordinary A)

The hierarchy is a gift to the Church.  But like any other good things, it can easily be subjected to abuse.  It is a gift because it facilitates better service.  Since the early Christianity, levels of ministering to the needs of the people have been established.  The designated positions like diaconate, presbyterate, episcopate are positions of ministering.  These are always understood in the spirit of the gospel today:  The greatest among you will be the one who serves the rest.

                                                             

In my homily for the thanksgiving mass of a newly ordained priest, I reminded him that the priesthood conferred upon him is foremost a position of service.  Since we both play tennis, I couched my message in tennis language:  Priesthood is a lot like tennis.  To be the best, you’ve got to serve well.  In order to serve well, you need to do a lot of practice. (I’m not sure now if he got me right. I heard he’s now spending a lot more time in tennis courts than in the church!).

Positions in the hierarchy can be abused. And it’s alarmingly easy.  It begins when positions held for the ministry turn into self-serving use of power and authority.  The abuse strengthens and becomes institutionalized when the higher one goes up the ladder the more one gains leverage to serve one’s own convenience and demands members to honor him properly with fantastic titles, front seats,  privileges, and what not.

In today’s gospel (Mt. 23:1-12), Jesus takes issue at the abuses of ministerial positions and authority by the scribes and the Pharisees.  Jesus affirms them as legitimate leaders following Moses. But he instructs his disciples not to imitate their example for “their words are bold but their deeds are few. They bind up heavy loads, hard to carry, to lay on other men’s shoulders, while they themselves will not lift a finger to budge them. All their works are performed to be seen... they are fond of places of honor at banquets, and front seats in synagogues, of marks of respect in public and of being called ‘Rabbi.’”

Jesus continues his instructions by telling his disciples that among them the desire to serve must be the motivation for assuming any community position and humility must be the accompanying attitude: “The greatest among you will be the one who serves the rest. Whoever exalts himself shall be humbled, but whoever humbles himself shall be exalted.”

The witnessing of St. Paul in Thessalonica is exemplary of an authentic Christian leader, an apostle.  In the second reading (1 Thes 2: 7-9, 13), we read Paul’s description of his service as a leader among the Thessalonians. He was caring, gentle, and dedicated. He did not impose any form of burden upon them. In fact, he even worked for a living in order to provide for his own needs while preaching to them the Good News. 

This Sunday, I believe, is a grace-filled opportunity for self-criticism and evaluation on the part of the leaders of the Church today.  Hierarchical positions, as I have noted, can easily be abused.  The person to whom the ministerial position has been conferred may gradually be intoxicated by the respect and endearment afforded by generous and loving members.  When the sense of entitlement creeps in, the minister may unwittingly begin to demand the privileges for himself and end up losing the original vocation to serve others.   The authority conferred may be wielded not for the good of all and of God’s Kingdom but for the advancement of personal agenda instead. Today’s reading is a healthy reminder that among the Christian communities any difference in position and any form of entrusted authority are justified only by the requirement of the ministry. 

Among the laity, in this time of lay empowerment when the lay are rightly tapped for important positions in the different ministries and apostolate of the Church, the same reminder is very helpful.  Our business in the Church is service and not to lord it over the people.  It is not uncommon to hear criticism among the lay regarding the authoritarian attitudes of lay leaders.  “Mas istrikto pa kay Father!” Or worse, we hear of pastoral council president competing with the authority of the parish priest.  The result: Division among the flock.

Let us not follow the example of the Scribes and Pharisees.  Jesus himself explicitly enjoins us that.  Instead, let us serve in the spirit of St. Paul’s gentle, caring and dedicated leadership and ministering among the Thessalonians. 

And in a healthy self-criticism, let us save the Church from our own abuses of the gift of authority. 

Forgive me Lord for the times I have marred the gift of hierarchy by attending first and foremost to my own convenience through the authority entrusted to me.  Give me the grace to serve much better and humbler. Amen.

"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.