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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season of Second Chances (3rd Sunday Lent C)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Transfiguration Brings Hope (2nd Sunday Lent C)

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

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

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

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

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

Three invitations in this Lenten season:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Temptation (1st Sunday Lent C)

It's not uncommon to hear unfortunate stories of generous people who later turned sour because they were not given due recognition for their goodness. In parish life for instance, I've heard time and again of what has become a familiar drama of a parishioner who becomes active in community affairs and ministries and who donates generously for the needs of the Church. But when the person's name is not mentioned in the acknowledgment out of sheer oversight, the person is heard making a vow not to become part of any parish activities anymore.

It has become a daunting and sensitive task to do the acknowledgment even in religious functions!

I think the most subtle temptation we wrestle each day is the temptation to do what is good and noble for egoistic reasons. We do things, laudable things, to prove our greatness and to invite praise and admiration. We serve, for instance, in order to impress--- even if unwittingly.

Today's gospel reading (Lk. 4:1-13) allows us to reflect on Jesus' temptations in the desert. His way of handling his own temptations is, needless to say, instructive of how his followers are to face their own. Jesus in the gospel is facing that kind of temptation which compels him to do what seems to be good in order to prove his greatness. The catch in the tempter's proposal is the phrase "If you are the Son of God..." All the three tempting proposals are premised upon this. "If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become bread... make all these kingdoms yours and worship me... throw yourself down from the parapet of the temple and show how the angels will guard you..."

The phrase, "If you are the Son of God," attractively appeals to pride and ego. Jesus' temptations then are but the lure of proving his greatness by showing off that he has in his possession what the world expects of him: "Show us that you're the man! Impress us! Wield your power, display your wealth, and flaunt your fame!”

To these, Jesus' response is self-effacement. Exactly the opposite of what the world demands. Always, he points to the Father in heaven as reference of whatever greatness he has. For Jesus, his greatness and even the meaning of his life are not about what he can show off. His business is all about doing the will of the Father in the Father's terms. These are the terms: not by display of power but by the redemptive capacity of suffering, not by allurement of wealth but by the lasting beauty of simplicity, not by egoistic exhibition of fame but by the self-effacing acceptance of humiliation. Only in these terms that Jesus brings glory, not to himself, but to the Father.

As it were, Jesus is pronouncing, "Yes, I am the Son of God... because I give glory to my Father!" Even in the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus again pronounces, "Not my will but yours be done." So that on the cross, when the last vestige of this temptation comes again in this similar proposal, "If you are the Messiah, save yourself and us," Jesus consistently holds on to the terms of the Father: He embraces his ultimate act of self-effacement and the greatest possible humiliation of the Messiah--death.

Even in this season of Lent, we can quite easily fall into the pharisaic pit of hypocrisy by doing good, pious, charitable practices such as fasting, almsgiving, and prayer for the wrong reasons—selfish reasons—to show off our "holiness." Jesus again reminds us that our business is not to give glory to our names but to the Father's name. This Lent, let us examine the subtle ways in which our egos might influence our actions, even in the guise of doing good.

But this season, this moment in the Church's journey, is not just about awareness and self-examination. It is a call to transformation. The temptation to serve for our own glory, to act for recognition, is not just something to acknowledge—it is something to overcome. Lent invites us into a deeper relationship with Christ, a relationship that calls us to take up the cross, not for display, but as a means of drawing closer to the heart of God.

As we walk through this season, and as we enter into this Jubilee Year 2025, we are reminded that we are pilgrims of hope. We are not journeying to prove our worth to the world or to seek the applause of others. We are pilgrims walking towards the Father, with the hope that He will transform us into His likeness. This Lent, let us be renewed in our commitment to follow Christ—not for our own glory but for the glory of the Father.

In this season of Lent and in this Jubilee Year, let us examine our motives, purify our hearts, and strive to live not for the praise of others but for the honor of God alone. Let us give generously, serve humbly, and pray earnestly—not to impress, but to be drawn closer to the love of God. May we all be pilgrims of hope, setting out not with pride, but with the humility of Christ, so that through our journey, we may bring glory not to ourselves, but to the Father who calls us to new life in Him.

Give me the grace to live each day for the greater glory of Your Name. Amen.

Ash Wednesday and Alay Kapwa @ 50

Today we begin the beautiful and grace-filled season of Lent. We are invited into a period of repentance, renewal, and transformation. Ash Wednesday sets the tone for the 40 days of Lent, a time of deepening our relationship with God and preparing our hearts for the joy of Easter.

This year, as we embark on this sacred journey, we also commemorate a significant milestone in the life of the Church—the 50th anniversary of Alay Kapwa, with the theme "Kapwa Ko, Pananagutan Ko, 50 Taon ng Pag-Asa." This anniversary challenges us to reflect on how we are called to live in solidarity with one another and to become agents of hope in our communities especially in times of hardships.

The Beginning of Lent - Invitation to Repentance, Renewal, and Authenticity

Lent is a season that invites us to reflect deeply on our lives, not simply as individuals but as members of the larger human family. It is a time to repent, to turn away from sin, and to renew our commitment to live more fully according to God’s will. Ash Wednesday, in its simplicity, calls us to remember our mortality and our need for God’s grace. The ashes on our foreheads remind us: "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." But the ashes also symbolize something more: the invitation to spiritual renewal. This season of Lent offers us a chance to pause and ask ourselves: How have we lived our faith? Have we been authentic in our relationship with God and with one another?

In today’s Gospel from Matthew (6:1-6, 16-18), Jesus teaches us that our acts of faith—our almsgiving, our prayers, our fasting—should not be for the sake of outward appearances, but rather for the sake of a sincere and humble heart. “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them,” He says. Lent is an invitation to move beyond the superficial and focus on the authenticity of our relationship with God. It is about deepening our personal commitment to live the Gospel through humble acts of prayer, fasting, and almsgiving.

As we enter this season, we are called not just to give up things for the sake of sacrifice, but to become more authentically who we are as disciples of Christ.

Alay Kapwa 50 - Call to Hope Amidst Struggle

This year, we celebrate 50 years of Alay Kapwa reminding us of our shared responsibility, our kapwa, and the call to hope amidst struggle. The theme, "Kapwa Ko, Pananagutan Ko, 50 Taon ng Pag-Asa," resonates powerfully with the spirit of Lent. This celebration is not just a reflection on the past, but a challenge for us today: How can we be a people of hope, even in the midst of hardship and difficulty? For five decades, Alay Kapwa has served as a spring of hope, particularly for the marginalized, the poor, and the suffering. Its work has provided practical aid, but it has also offered a deeper, spiritual message: that we are all responsible for one another. Alay Kapwa invites us to see beyond our own needs and recognize the dignity of the other, particularly those in most need of our care and attention.

The Gospel today reminds us that Lent is a time not just for personal renewal, but for a renewal of our communal commitment to those who suffer. When Jesus talks about fasting, He is not just calling us to deny ourselves for the sake of sacrifice but to open our hearts to the needs of others. The ashes remind us that we are dust, but we are also part of a larger family.

The anniversary of Alay Kapwa challenges us to live out that responsibility by becoming agents of hope. This is not just a theoretical hope, but one that is rooted in practical service. It is a hope that refuses to ignore the struggles of others, a hope that sees in every person, not a stranger, but a fellow human being—our kapwa. And this hope is not passive—it is one that demands action.

Lent provides us with an opportunity to embrace this call to hope and to reflect on how we, as individuals and as a community, can continue to serve in the spirit of Alay Kapwa. How can our fasting and prayer this season inspire us to live more intentionally in solidarity with the poor and marginalized? How can we, as a Church, continue to be a source of hope in a world that so often seems filled with despair?

As we begin this Lenten season, let us take to heart the call to authentic repentance and renewal. May the ashes on our foreheads remind us that we are dust, but also that we are capable of transformation through God’s grace. Let this Lent be a time not just of personal renewal, but also of deepened commitment to our shared responsibility for one another. 

Qualities of a Leader (8th Sunday Ordinary C)

“The qualities of a great man are vision, integrity, courage, understanding, the power of articulation, and profundity of character.” These words of Dwight D. Eisenhower, the supreme commander of Allied forces in Western Europe during World War II and later served as the 34th US President for two terms (1953-1961), resonate with the words of Jesus in today’s gospel.

Jesus’ series of short parables in today’s gospel reading (Lk 6:39-45) allow us to discern the qualities of a true disciple and a truly great man for that matter.  I would like to highlight four of these qualities borrowing some words from Eisenhower’s quote. I propose that these qualities can be our goal for personal growth and may also be use as qualifications for choosing our public leaders.

Vision. A great leader must have a vision. A leader without a vision is like a blind man leading another blind. “A blind man cannot guide a blind man, can he? Will they not both fall into a pit?” (Lk 6: 39). A leader without a vision brings his people to nowhere. He is going to squash their hopes and lead them to perdition. But a leader with a vision sees where to go and leads his people to become a people they want to be.

It is important then that this vision be enlightened by Christ and be guided by the Christian values of truth, justice, and love. Otherwise, without truth, a leader may mislead his people with manipulative propaganda and even form their opinion by spreading lies and fake news, for instance. Without the value of justice, a leader may act whimsically disregarding what is due to each and may even trample upon their rights. Without love, the poor will remain uncared for and power will be used solely for personal interest and, worst, for violent subjugation of the people.

Hence, Christians who are called to leadership responsibility must have a vision enlightened by Christ in order to truly lead their people to a better quality of life.

Integrity. Integrity is the antidote to hypocrisy. Hypocrisy is described by our Lord in this parable: “How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye” (v. 42). In saying this, Jesus is teaching his disciples to refrain from making hypocritical judgment on others and, instead, to proactively engage in self-examination in order to correct oneself first and become a credible critic to others.

Integrity is being truthful to oneself as Spencer Johnson has it: “Integrity is telling myself the truth. And honesty is telling the truth to other people.” The Lord wants us to take out the log out of our own eye first and see who we really are, warts and all. Acceptance of the truth of one’s own faults and flaws and, consequently, living in consistent uprightness mark a person with integrity. Such a person becomes a credible leader and a brother to those whom he approaches for fraternal correction.

The Lord invites us to become a person of integrity rather than hypocrisy.

Profundity of Character. A person of profound character has inner depth and a treasure of good values and principles in his heart. Whatever goodness is stored in his heart manifests in his deeds. “Agere siquitor esse.” What we do flows from what we are.  As the Lord says in a parable, “For there is no good tree which produces bad fruit, nor, on the other hand, a bad tree which produces good fruit. For each tree is known by its own fruit. For men do not gather figs from thorns, nor do they pick grapes from a briar bush. The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good” (vv. 43-45).

The analogy of the tree and its fruits reminds us that what we do flows from our character. Hence, it is our goal to acquire such profundity of character so as to be able to make a difference and positive impact on the people we serve. For those vying for public leadership, they can be evaluated by their tract record, i.e. what have they done to uplift the lives of the people? The fruits of their lives manifest who they are deep inside.

Power of Articulation. Speech is a powerful tool for good or evil. With our words we can either inspire or insult, bless or curse. Just as our deeds flow from our character, our words flow from whatever is stored in our hearts. “The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart” (vv. 45).

Our words reveals the disposition of our hearts; a person with integrity then speaks of the truth and whatever is good and noble but a person of malice speaks with vulgarity, insult, irresponsible accusations and lies. We can have a glimpse of what’s inside a person through the window of his words.

The Lords invites us to store goodness in our hearts that we may speak of what is noble, true, and blessed.

Truly a great man and a great disciple of our Lord nurtures for himself the qualities of vision, integrity, character, and noble speech. A leader without these qualities is dangerous!

Loving the Enemies (7th Sunday Ordinary C)

Today’s gospel reading has usually been viewed by many as the most difficult invitation of our Lord to his disciples as He enjoins them to be perfect as the heavenly Father is perfect. Indeed, this invitation is not easy as discipleship is not. But this does not mean that it is not doable. We just need to start somewhere and grow, even gradually, from there. This invitation to perfection is all about the vocation to love as God loves and to unleash the gentle power of love that we may overcome violence and transform the world into God’s kingdom. Let us focus on two significant injunctions of our Lord in today’s gospel: First is the injunction to turn the other cheek and, second, to love one’s enemies.

Turning the Other Cheek. The Lord pronounces in today’s gospel reading this disconcerting precept: “When someone strikes you on your right cheek, turn the other one to him as well.” What?! Isn’t this insane? Well, our human nature would have us striking back to get even. But again, Jesus invites us to be like the loving Father who does not retaliate violence with violence. God conquers our rebellious hearts with love.

An interesting commentary on this passage is illuminating: When one strikes you on your right cheek, he uses the back of his hand to hit you. When you offer the other cheek, he has to use his open palm. But the palm has always represented one’s person; that is why we make an oath with it or welcome someone with a warm handshake and when we give, we do it with our open palm. Hence, the other cannot use his open palm to hit you without demeaning his own dignity as a person.

Therefore, to offer the other cheek is not being passive to violence. It is an active decision not to retaliate and, furthermore, it is a peaceful, gentle, and loving way of reminding the other to value the integrity and dignity of his own person and hence to stop the cycle of violence. To strike back satisfies our thirst for justice; but to offer the other cheek is to exercise a far superior principle of Christian ethics—love. Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Loving the Enemies. "But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back. Then your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, because he is kind to the ungrateful and wicked" (Lk 6:35).

Jesus does not speak here of the romantic and sentimental type of love that is always accompanied by “kilig” as one feels in the presence of an irresistible funny valentine. Love here is not about feeling good towards one’s enemies. It is, instead, in its fundamental essence, an act of the will. Love is willing whatever is good for the other. While we usually do not feel good towards our enemies, we can still will what is good for them. We can pray and bless them for instance as Jesus explicitly taught by his words and example: “Father forgive them for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34).

The commitment to love our enemies is an active non-violent stance. When the world tends to resort to the use of brute force in order to eliminate the enemies, the followers of Christ use the superior but gentle power of love to conquer the hearts of the enemies. Force and violence may destroy the enemies. But Christian love restores the goodness of the enemies and thus turns them into friends. Violence is destructive; love is restorative like the love of the heavenly Father who wills to restore everything destroyed by sin. Again, it is to such loving attribute of the Father that Jesus invites us towards perfection—be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.

Yes, this is no mean feat. But with God’s grace, we can follow with joy what the Lord wishes us to do and to become. As with any daunting journey we take in life, we need to start somewhere with the first step. We can make a private vow of non-violence intending to learn and to live each day by the precepts of our Lord on turning the other cheek and loving the enemies:

Personal Vow of Non-violence: Recognizing the violence in my own heart and confiding in God's goodness and mercy, I MAKE A VOW (FOR ONE YEAR which may be renewed every year) TO PRACTICE THE NON-VIOLENCE OF CHRIST AS HE TAUGHT IT TO US IN THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. Before God the Creator and the Spirit who sanctifies, I promise to witness by my life to the love of Christ and especially: to live peace and be an artisan of peace in my daily life, to accept suffering rather than inflict it, to refuse to respond to provocation and violence, to persevere in non-violence in words and in thoughts, to live conscientiously and simply in order not to wrong anyone, to work in a non-violent manner to suppress causes of violence within me and in the world. Amen.

May Araw Ka Rin! (6th Sunday Ordinary C)

Today's gospel has two inter-related elements: A message of hope for the poor and those who are suffering and a strong warning to the powerful who cause the miseries of the people.

The message of hope. “Blessed are the poor, for the Kingdom of God is yours!” This is today’s good news (Lk 6:17, 20-26). But many find this statement perplexing and contradictory. How can the poor be fortunate? How can the hungry be happy? How can those who are weeping be joyful? How can the hated, insulted, and persecuted rejoice?

How can we who are mired into different forms of misery known to this broken world truly find meaning? How can we be called blessed?

The contradiction ceases ONLY when we who are suffering acknowledge the power of the love of God. The loving God never leaves his suffering people orphan.

This is what Jesus announces in the gospel reading. He announces the message of hope to those whose lives have become seemingly hopeless because of injustices, persecution, exploitation and sheer powerlessness. He is saying, “Hold on. God is here. God reigns. God triumphs over sin and evil. The Kingdom of God is yours! Hence, your suffering will be reversed. Remember this. Do not despair!”

When we are right there in the heart of suffering, we, short-sighted and faithless as we are, tend to despair. We tend to loose grip of the beauty of life. And if the world such as what we have continues to build structures of suffering so much so that it makes sure that more and more people stumble and fall, how can we ever conceive of true happiness as a people?

We need to realize that we cannot stand alone. We cannot depend only on our human strength. In the darkest hour of the night, we have to believe that daylight awaits us. It may be fearful while we are there. But we need to hold on. May bukas pa. We have to cling to our faith in God who never abandons us even in his seeming absence. He is our strength. He is our hope. And God never fails those who hope in him!

The message of warning. I’m tempted to end this reflection here with this pleasant note. But the latter part of the Gospel reading, while not very pleasant, is equally significant. Jesus addresses too those who cause the suffering of people while they themselves enjoy the bounty of life, oftentimes at the expense of those who are suffering.

In Jesus’ time, the rich, the powerful, and the holy were so conceited to think that God was on their side which explained their bounty. Their self-righteousness systematically marginalized the poor from society and even exploited them. They looked down on the poor as sinners and deserving to suffer!

So, as the prophets before him has done, Jesus pronounces in the gospel today his denunciation of this kind of attitude. “Woe to you who are filled now, for you will be hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will grieve and weep…” (v 25).

This is a precaution, a warning to those who maintain an I-don’t-care attitude to the suffering of God’s people and more so for those who are the cause of the pain and unhappiness of God’s children. The warning consists in the reversal of situation: Should the rich and powerful continue their insensitivity and abuses, they will end up in misery.

Jesus' message, hence, assures the poor of God’s love and bounty. They have all the reason to be hopeful. To them Jesus is saying, “may bukas pa.” But to the conceited and exploitative rich, he is expressing his stern warning that, should they not repent, “may araw ka rin!”

Lord, heal our land
Father, heal our land
Hear our cry and turn our nation back to You
Lord, heal our land
Hear us oh, Lord, and heal our land
Forgive our sin and heal our broken land

Man of Faith (5th Sunday Ordinary C)

Many have stood by their I-did-it-my-way philosophy in life. They have tried to appear to have lived “a life that’s full” solely relying on their own human capacity.  At the heart of their conviction is that man is self-sufficient; he is intelligent and free; he is capable of doing what he wants in life and giving meaning to it; he may struggle but he does not need help; asking for it, especially when kneeling, is weakness. With pride, he has to face the final curtain of life as he intones:

For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught;
To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels;
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way! (Sounds familiar, huh!)

Quite opposite to this self-made man’s confidence or perhaps, more appropriately, conceit, is the total wretchedness with which other people view life and human existence. There are those who see only the brokenness of man and live as such—miserable people. They see only human frailty, imperfections, sinfulness, defeat, and absurdity of life. So they make life miserable—thanks to alcohol and drugs, to their insecurities and self-pity, their anger and violence—not only for themselves but for people who care for them.

But still another way of approaching life is the way of the man of faith.  He shares some likeness with the first two in that he believes in his worth and dignity, on the one hand, and he acknowledges his imperfections and inadequacies on the other hand.  He is different from them though in that he opens his heart to the grace of God.  In his moments of inadequacies, he has the courage to bend his knees because he has no problem accepting he is weak. But precisely in this humility before God, he finds his strength to overcome not only his imperfections but even the most crushing of trials that the human spirit is made to endure.

All three readings of today’s liturgy herald the way of the man of faith by featuring three models: Isaiah, Paul, and Peter. 

In the first reading (Is 6:1-2a, 3-8), we hear of Isaiah’s calling. Isaiah acknowledges his unworthiness as he says, “Woe is me. I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips…” (v.5). Isaiah’s imperfection and sinfulness is identified with his lips since his is to be a preaching ministry. Yet the Lord purified his mouth; his wickedness is removed. So that, as the Lord asks who to send, Isaiah responded firmly, “Here I am, send me!”

Paul, in the second reading (1 Cor 15:1-11), testifies to the same enabling grace of God in his ministry.  He used to persecute the church of God due to his unenlightened religious convictions, yet he turned out to become the zealous preacher of the Kerygma, the good news of the saving death and resurrection of Christ. Here, Paul testifies that this dramatic change in his life is only made possible by the grace of God: “For I am the least of the apostles, not fit to be called an apostle… But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me has not been ineffective” (v. 9-10).

Finally, Peter. In the gospel reading (Lk 5:1-11), Peter is humbled by the fact that he and his fellow fishermen had worked hard all night and had not caught anything; yet at Jesus’ command, Peter, probably going against the wisdom of his years of fishing experience, lowered their nets just the same. And to the astonishment of all, they caught so great a number of fish that their nets were tearing and their boats were in danger of sinking (v.  5-7)!

Peter, the expert fisherman, fell at the knees of Jesus as he exclaimed: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man” (v. 8). This is Peter’s realization of his inadequacy in front of the Lord. How consoling for us to be reminded of this humbling experience of the first pope of the Church of Christ.  And how reassuring that the Lord dispels every fear in our otherwise feeble commitment to take on his task as He says to Peter: “Fear not; from now on you will be catching men” (v. 10).

Isaiah, Paul, and Peter all illustrated for us the way of the man of faith and how we surely live life to the full when we allow the grace of God to work in us.

The man of faith does not have to prove to the world his greatness and strength. After having done everything that his life is meant to accomplish, he does not have to proclaim at the top of his lungs that he did it his way. Humility, which gives him deep serenity, is his path, not pride. He knows that conceit brings him false glory and honor. Of course, he believes in his giftedness—his intellect, freedom, abilities—and sees them as such, as gifts. Hence, the man of faith glorifies not himself but the Giver of every gift in his life.

Moreover, the man of faith acknowledges quite truthfully his inadequacies. He sees his brokenness, feels his unworthiness. But he needs not fear his weaknesses for they are the very occasion of God’s grace to work in his life. It is in the instance of his humble acceptance of weakness that God’s power makes him strong; God’s power shines mightily unhampered by the person’s foolish pride. The man of faith believes that despite his glaring imperfections, he is not destined to a miserable life; for he is called to a beautiful life, a meaningful life, a life with purpose and mission.

Clearly our invitation is to stop wasting our time exploring different ways of living our lives. No use living in either conceit or defeat. God invites us to live life in the way that brings out the best in us. God calls us to trudge the path of the man of faith.

In the Father's House (Santo Niño C)

This year's celebration of the Feast of Santo Niño brings hope to our communities as we journey
together through this holy year of the jubilee. As "Pilgrims of Hope," we are invited to carry on with both the spirit of joy and the courage to face the challenges of our time-- including the lingering effects of natural disasters due to climate change, the on-going battle against poverty , political uncertainty, and the impact of health crises. These struggles certainly weigh heavily on our hearts. But we should not be disheartened. In the face of these adversities, we are called to embody the childlike faith that Santo Niño represents, urging us to reflect on our journey as "pilgrims of hope" in the light of the gospel reading (Lk 2:41-52). We are invited to seek the Lord, to be in the Father's house, and to grow in faith. 

Seeking the Lord. In the Gospel, Mary and Joseph travel to Jerusalem for the Passover festival and realize that Jesus is missing. They searched diligently for three days before finding Him in the temple, engaging in deep discussions. This narrative emphasizes the importance of seeking the Lord, especially in times of uncertainty. If we do not have the Lord in our midst, it can be disconcerting. If the Lord is missing in our daily lives, in our family and community life, we can all end up fragmented. If the Lord is not in the consciousness of our political leaders, governance is all about their vested interest and nothing more. If the Lord is not seen in the sanctity of creation, we continue to abuse it. 

As pilgrims of hope, we must ask ourselves: How diligently do we seek the Lord? Our devotion to Santo Niño inspires us to pursue a deeper relationship with God, just as Mary and Joseph sought their Son. As we face all the challenges of our time, we are reminded that our true refuge lies in the Lord. Jesus is our anchor of hope amidst the storms and rough waves we are facing. Allow the devotion to the Santo Niño to encourage each one of us to turn to prayer, to seek God's guidance, and dwell in His presence amid our struggles.

Being in the Father's House. When Mary and Joseph find Jesus, He is in the temple, astonishing everyone with His wisdom. Jesus asks them, "Why were you searching for me? Didn't you know I had to be in my Father's house?" (Luke 2:49). This statement reveals that even as a child, Jesus understood His mission and purpose. To be in the Father's house means to be concerned about the Father's business.

As pilgrims, we journey towards the Father's house. This means that we are called to align our lives with God's business, His divine plan. For us now, being in the Father's house means living in accordance with our God-given purpose and mission, filled with hope. Our devotion to the Santo Niño invites us to discern God's will in our lives, to act in obedience, and to engage actively in the work of the Kingdom.

What is my mission in life? What does the Father send me for? This is an essential question for a meaningful life. May our journey here on earth lead to the house of the Father. And may we always  strive to be faithful stewards of our calling, embodying the obedience and commitment that the Santo Niño represents. 

Growing in Faith, Hope, and Love. The Gospel concludes with, "And Jesus increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and man" (Luke 2:52). The child Jesus grew. This growth reminds us that our journey as pilgrims of hope is also one of continual growth in faith.  It invites us to consider our own faith journeys—growing not only in our personal needs but also expanding beyond ourselves to embrace a broader view of our calling as Christians.

Like the child Jesus, we are called to mature in our faith. In the early stages, our faith often centers on personal concerns—our needs, our struggles, and our desires. However, as we continue to grow, we are encouraged to shift our focus from self to service. This transformation leads us to a missionary faith that reaches out into the world, responding to the social challenges that beset our communities.

As we grow in faith, we may transform our personal struggles into motivations for service, extending our hands and hearts to those who face hardships. Our devotion to Santo Niño calls us to be active witnesses of hope, bridging the gap between our faith and the pressing social issues of our time. In doing so, we become true instruments of God's love in our communities, carrying forward the message of Santo Niño as servants of compassion and agents of change.

With so much hope in our hearts, we celebrate the Feast of Santo Niño today. Let us renew our commitment in our journey to seek the Lord, our anchor of hope, to be in the Father's house doing what He has commanded us to do, and to grow in faith, hope, and love as we all face the struggles of our communities. May our devotion to the Holy Child inspire us to be pilgrims of hope, transforming our struggles into stories of resilience and triumph.

Freedom and New Life (Lord’s Baptism C)

Christian Duguay's Golden Globe-nominated film, Human Trafficking, depicts the horrible world of sex slavery where abducted girls are reduced into sex commodities to be sold and resold over and over to insatiable patrons of this sex industry. The film unfolds the story of four girls who have been kidnapped from across the world and consigned into the hellish prison of international sex trade without hope of escape. Only a specialized team of Immigration and Customs Enforcement officers are determined to bring down the global network that sponsors such heinous crimes.

One of the four victims is Nadia, a 16-year old girl from Kiev.  She winds up in the brothel after signing up, without her father’s knowledge, for what she believed to be an opportunity for modelling.  Desperate to find her, Nadia’s father sets out to save her and risks his own life by joining the syndicate that runs the dangerous world of sex trade. He has no hope of saving her unless he enters the evil world of sex industry where she is held as a slave. In the end, the risk he has taken pays off. Nadia is reunited with his father.

What has this to do with the Feast of the Lord’s Baptism?  Allow me to spell out two things.  But already at the outset, we can maintain that the film’s motif of slavery and liberation lends itself to a deeper appreciation of our Lord’s baptism which has to be understood within the similar biblical motif of slavery of sin and the promise of salvation.

First point, the Saviour’s solidarity with the sinners. Was there a need for Jesus to be baptized by John? John’s baptism was a summons to repentance and conversion.  It was directed then to the sinners.  Jesus was everything like us except sin. Hence, as far as Jesus’ personal spiritual life was concerned, He did not need John’s baptism.

But why did He submit to John as recalled now by our gospel reading (Lk 3:15-16, 21-22)? Some biblical scholars suggest that Jesus’ submission to baptism is his act of fully identifying himself with the sinful people whom He is called to save.  His public calling as a saviour demands that He be in solidarity with those whom John has called to conversion.  Very similar to the decision of Nadia’s father to bravely enter the world of sex trade to save her, for only this, risky as it may be, gives a glimmer of hope for Nadia’s liberation.

The baptism of our Lord then marks Jesus’ resolve to embrace us even more in our sinful condition in order to save us. He enters our world of slavery that He may liberate us. No wonder that He finds time to laugh and dine with the sinners.  This commitment to be in solidarity with the sinful people culminates in his passion and death on the cross. He pays the price of our sins; and in his resurrection, wins for us our freedom, our new life, and our salvation.

This gives profound meaning to our own baptism.  When we are “immersed” into the water of baptism, we experience ritually our burial into Christ’s death, from which we rise up by resurrection with him, as new creatures (CCC 1214). Our baptism incorporates us into the death and resurrection of our Lord, hence, bringing about new life in Christ.

Nadia cannot help but weep for joy as she realizes her freedom, safety, and new life with her loving father who has risked everything for her.  On this feast of the Lord’s baptism, let us relish the freedom and new life that Jesus has won for us over the slavery of sin and death.

Second point, the Saviour’s true identity.  It’s too risky to plunge into the world of sin. One can easily lose oneself.  But Nadia’s father survives in the sneaky world of sex industry because He knows who he is.  During a raid in one of the brothels, he is cornered by a police officer to whom he appeals, “I am Nadia’s father. I must go and find her.” And he runs away to continue his search. 

Jesus needs to know his true identity as He decides, in his baptism, to be fully identified with the sinful people.  The gospel of Luke reports that after Jesus’ baptism and in his prayer, the Father’s assurance comes as a voice from heaven: “You are my beloved Son; with whom I am well pleased” (Lk 3:22). This certainly gives Jesus a shot in the arm in fulfilling his mission. With clarity, He brings with him his true identity as he embarks into the sinful world of the people He is called to save. He is to walk not in the ways of sin but always in the ways that please God, His Father.

In our baptism, we become adopted sons and daughters of God in Christ. And this identity is indelible.  In this sinful world where we move and live, we need to be always reminded about who we really are, lest we easily lose ourselves.  We are the children of God.  Amid the growing Godlessness of our societies and cultures, do we have the conviction to stand as God’s children whose only resolve is to do what pleases the Father?

The world as it is now is beset with terrifying structures of sin.  One of these is the impenetrable structures of human trafficking and sex industry as an example. Lest we succumb to despair, let us allow the Feast of the Lord’s baptism to bring us hope—one that springs from our conviction that we have a God who journeys with us through the road of salvation  and that He calls us his children, hence, empowering us to create structures of grace where freedom and new life is celebrated.

Gifts of the Magi (Epiphany C)

Christmas gift-giving in the early centuries was originally done on the Feast of Epiphany understandably on account of the Magi’s presentation of gifts to the infant Jesus as we hear in the Gospel reading today.  With our present practice though, all the exchanging of gifts have been done by now and what’s left probably are the piles and litters of gift wrappers and boxes in our rooms (or in my room particularly).

But we can still take this Feast of Epiphany as an opportunity to make sense of our experience of gift-giving on Christmas.  Is there still sense to it?

The Lettermen’s “What Can I Give You this Christmas?” is one of my favourite Christmas songs. Some lines stand out for me as meaningful:

What can I give you this Christmas?
Not a thing that I’ve seen will do
So I’ll give you my heart and my own true love
That will last the whole year through.

I resonate not so much with the Lettermen’s genre as with the song’s expression of the existential ache common to us all to give no less our heart when we love.  Love compels us to give. One cannot love without giving. Giving is an act of love. Gifts then are signs of love, symbols of our hearts.  Oftentimes, however, we find the Christmas exchange of gifts a mere routine for merry-making, an activity to fill in the Christmas parties we have organized.  So that after all the parties, the real gift-giving happens in a less conspicuous way when we approach the people we truly care for and hand them what represents our love for them or when we quietly reach out  in charity to those who are less fortunate.

In today’s gospel (Mt. 2:1-12), the wise men from the east inspire our practice of gift-giving.  After travelling far and wide in search of the Lord, the Magi, led by a brightly shining star, found the infant Jesus with Mary his mother. “They prostrated themselves and did him homage. Then, they opened their treasures and offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh” (v. 11).

Again, gifts are symbols of love.  In this particular event, the gifts of the Magi highlighted the great irony in the history of salvation:  The pagan people, represented by the wise men from the east, had come to express their love to Jesus and to receive the Messiah while the chosen people of Israel who had been waiting for their promised saviour would eventually hate and reject him.

Gold is a gift befitting a king for gold stands as the king of metals. With this gift the Magi expressed their love and acceptance of Jesus as King. This was in stark contrast to the evil intent of Herod, Israel’s King, against the child whom he saw as threat to his kingship. The frankincense, moreover, is high quality incense, the aroma and smoke of which goes up heavenward and exudes divinity.  With this gift, the magi expressed their love and worship of Jesus as God.  The God of Israel became then the God of all nations.  The third gift, myrrh, is used as a perfume in the preparation of the dead for burial. This gift foreshadowed the passion and death of our Lord as human being. With this gift, the magi expressed their love and acceptance of the humanity of Jesus and his obedience unto death.

On this Feast of Epiphany then, we may do well to pose some reflective questions pertaining to our experience of gift-giving this Christmas:

What gift did I receive that I am most grateful for? Right now my place is still in shambles as I come back from Christmas break.  As I start to get rid of the litters of gift wrappers, ribbons, boxes and what not, I realize it is not for a particular gift which has come with the wrappings that I am most thankful.  It is the gift of friendship, of love and of family that has made the Christmas season not just merry but truly happy for me. For others, there may be some outstanding gifts that they can easily be grateful for.  In whatever case, this Feast of Epiphany invites us to relish our sense of gratitude and just be thankful.

What gift have I given that bears the sign of my heart? How have I given this Christmas? Have I given with love? Have I reached out to those who are in need? Our honest answer to this will allow us either to appreciate our own capacity to share and to be selfless or to be aware of our tendency to be close to ourselves and to our own needs.  Let Epiphany be a manifestation for us of our own capacity to give love or our need to grow more in it.

What gift have I given to Jesus who is the be-all-and-end-all of this season? Despite the widespread annual celebration of Christmas, our societies have given way to secularism. God and His precepts have been increasingly brushed aside from public affairs. There is even talk of renaming the Christmas tree into holiday tree to avoid the religious connotation of Christmas! While the present day Herods reject God, can we continue to stand by Jesus as our King, worship Him as our God, love Him and suffer with Him as one among us?

We may have crooned and belted out Christmas songs this season including my favorite, promising to give even our hearts as gift, but the real challenge is that on this Feast of the Epiphany we are called to offer to the Lord once more the gifts of the Magi.