Oct 12, 2024

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?

Oct 5, 2024

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.

Sep 28, 2024

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.