The Gentle God (14th Sunday Ordinary A)

For many of us, it is a matter of course to believe in a powerful God.  We easily associate God with power. After all, the first assertion of our Christian faith is the belief in God, the Father Almighty. So, chances are your own image of God is one who can do just anything you can imagine with just a single snap of his fingers or perhaps, like how Harry Potter does it, with a simple wiggle of his magic wand.  He is a God who can make all his wishes come true no matter what, because if he cannot then he is not God.  This is how our human logic goes. We understand God’s power as his ability to bring just anything into existence. He has a say, therefore, on everything and exercises control over anything.  Hence, an awesome God... one in whose presence we tremble for in his hands rest the very existence of just everything under the sun.

God's power revealed in meekness. But wait a minute. Today’s readings offer us a glimpse of a quite different side of God.  A gentle and humble God.  The first reading for instance (Zec. 9:9-10) foretells the coming of the king as a just savior, meek and riding on an ass rather than on a majestic chariot.  This foreshadows the entrance of Christ to the city of Jerusalem.  He comes on an ass. Not majestic but humble. He brings not war but peace. Furthermore, the Gospel reading (Mt. 11:25-30) reveals the Lord as one who invites those who are tired to come to him for refreshment, for he is “gentle and humble of heart.” 

Can power, on the one hand, and gentleness and humility, on the other, come together?  It appears difficult but yes.  We find the juxtaposition difficult because we easily associate power with ability to dominate and control, with force, with authority, with the ability to make things happen despite all forms of resistance. Here power becomes imposing and far from being gentle.

The real power though, I submit, is not imposition or coercion. It is persuasion.  God’s power is persuasive. He invites. He presents what is good; manifests what is beautiful and true; offers what we can embrace as values. In other words, He attracts. Unlike the coercive power which works from outside by imposing its will, the persuasive power works from within and gently achieves cooperation.  Such is the power of God—the Gentle God. Another term for this persuasive power of God is love.

The Gentle God invites the weary to carry the yoke of love. “Come to me, all you who are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you. Take my yoke upon your shoulders and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble of heart” (Mt. 11: 28-29).

Here is a God who invites. He invites not the high and mighty but the weary and those burdened by life.  To them he offers refreshment and rest.  He assures them of his heart which is gentle and humble. But we have to take note that he does not dispense of the yoke to be carried: “Take my yoke upon your shoulders.”  Coming to him for rest does not mean a responsibility-free life.  To have rest in Christ does not mean doing nothing in life.  It means carrying the yoke of Jesus, which is the yoke of love.

The gentle God offers a gentle yoke—the yoke of love as alternative to the imposing yoke of law. The yoke of law renders the people tired and unappreciative of life.  The people of Israel, for instance, had been bombarded with endless laws prescribed by the scribes.  Their lives had been all about fulfilling every letter of the law. The yoke of law became the be-all and end-all of their existence so that they gradually forgot about the loving relationship with God.  The ‘little ones,’ the poor especially, could not measure up to the demands of the law, so they were the ones who found life burdensome.  Life for them was an experience of imposition and coercion that led to their alienation.

Jesus reached out to them by offering his yoke. “My yoke is easy, my burden light.” This is the yoke of love offered by the gentle God. This yoke is inspiring and liberating because it works from within. Jesus’ message then is this:  Learn from me. Carry your responsibilities not because they are imposed upon you.  Carry them not because you are obliged by law. Follow me and carry your responsibilities because of love.  

Our response: Living each day with love in our hearts. All of us who have loved will agree by experience that anything we do out of love, however difficult and demanding, becomes easy and light.  The power of love works from within. It inspires and liberates. Life becomes worthwhile, enjoyable, easy, and peaceful when we put upon our shoulders the yoke of Jesus, the yoke of love.

Do we find life burdensome? Perhaps it would help if we examine what we do. We might have been spending our energies and time to things that are imposed upon us. We need to have a change of paradigm.  Let us approach Jesus and learn from him. Let us live each day with love in our hearts and let everything we do flow from that persuasive power of love.

Or do we find ourselves wielding power vested upon us by our status or position in society? Jesus offers himself as a model.  He invites us to come to him and learn from his gentleness and humility. To be powerful does not always mean being coercive and imposing. Again, change of paradigm—real power works not from outside but from within. It is the persuasion of love we need to exercise. It is the way of the gentle God.

  

Do Not Fear (12th Sunday Ordinary A)

The ancient philosopher, Plato, has pointed out the tragedy of being afraid: “We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”

Who are afraid of the light?

Those who have something to hide shun the light for fear of being exposed; so, they rather thrive in the dark. But those who are called to speak in the light may also be afraid of it as it may lead to their persecution. So they keep quiet. This, indeed, is tragic. And we can all easily fall into this same tragedy if we allow our fears to paralyze us.

“Do not fear.” This is the reminder of today’s gospel reading (Mt 10:26-33). “So have no fear of them; for nothing is covered up that will not be uncovered, and nothing secret that will not become known. What I say to you in the dark, tell in the light; and what you hear whispered, proclaim from the housetops” (vv. 26-27).

The Lord’s instruction to his disciples is clear: Speak in the light! Proclaim from the housetops!  Simply 'whispering' the gospel among them is not enough.  It may safeguard them from threat and antagonism of this world but it is tantamount to 'disowning' the Lord Jesus in the presence of people; and this cowardly act will cause the Lord to disown the same followers in the presence of the Father.

So the disciples are called to face courageously the realities of evil in the world and the fate that awaits those who brave to confront them with the values of the Gospel. But from where do we draw the courage with which we confront the evils of this world and their vicious reprisal?

The readings for today offer us three ways to conquer our fears:  a) Entrusting our cause to God our mighty champion; b) Having faith in the grace of Christ to triumph over sin; c) Invoking God’s protection and care.

Entrusting our cause to God.  In the first reading (Jer 20:10-13), the prophet Jeremiah expresses his awareness of the plot to denounce and entrap him precisely because of his vocation as a prophet and the message of woe that he delivers to his fellow citizens. But even in the face of this hostility and threat coming from every side, he remains unafraid as he confidently claims the Lord to be in his side like a “mighty champion” who will foil his persecutors.  Jeremiah has no fear because he has “entrusted his cause” to God who will vindicate him in the end—“O Lord of hosts …let me witness the vengeance you take on them, for to you I have entrusted my cause” (v. 12).

When we confront the ills of our society with the light of the gospel, we also have to prepare for our fate as a persecuted prophet.  But we should not fear for our cause is God’s cause. Like the prophet Jeremiah, we shall realize that the Lord is on our side; and as a mighty champion, He will put to utter shame those who plot against us.

 Are you afraid to “speak in the light?” Don’t be. Entrust your cause to God for He is on your side.

The grace of Christ triumphs over sin.  In the second reading (Romans 5:12-15), we can discern an appropriate background to our calling to confront the evil of this world. St. Paul acknowledges the universal spread of evil throughout the world in the past and we see its bearing in the present sinful situation in our world.  But we ought not to fear as we confront sin because while we have inherited this condition of sinfulness, we have also received a gift that far surpasses it—the grace of God and the gracious gift of the one man Jesus Christ overflowing for all of us.

This overflowing grace of Christ is our source of courage. We need not be afraid when we put our faith in Jesus Christ.  When we speak against the power of sin around and within us, only this overflowing grace of Christ guarantees victory for it is a gift more powerful than any of the earthly threats we may fear.

Invoking God’s protection and care. The gospel reading has a refrain: “Do not be afraid.”  Jesus encourages his disciples not to fear anyone, any human persecutor, who can kill the body, because the whole of their physical existence is held within the protection of God’s hands. Jesus reminds them that they are precious in the eyes of God who manifests love even to the lowly sparrows: “Are not two sparrows sold for a small coin? Yet not one of them falls to the ground without your Father’s knowledge… So do not be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Mt 10:29-31).

God values all his creatures;  He is our loving Father and we, His children, can always rest in the truth that He loves us dearly and protects us from those who plot against us.  We, who stand firm and proclaim the gospel in the light and “from the housetops,” can be confident even in the face of death that our ultimate fate lies in the loving hand of God and that He is our vindication.

Fear no one then… Do not be afraid… speak in the light and proclaim from the housetops! The Lord is our mighty champion who remains on our side against our persecutors; his overflowing grace has overcome the power of sin and eliminated the sting of death; His love and care is our protection and vindication. So do not fear. Have faith in God.

The Church Jesus Desires (11th Sunday Ordinary A)

The Gospel today offers more than a portrait of Jesus; it reveals the Church He desires us to become.

In this passage we see three movements: Jesus sees the crowd, Jesus gathers the Twelve, and Jesus sends them on mission. These three movements describe what the Church today calls a synodal and missionary Church. “Synod” means “walking together,” but walking together is not the destination. We walk together so that, united, we may share in Christ’s mission to the world.

Jesus Sees the Crowd: A Listening Church. The Gospel begins with moving words: “At the sight of the crowds, his heart was moved with pity for them, because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” Here we see that Jesus does not begin with a program or a speech. He begins with attention. He looks, he listens, he allows himself to be affected by the suffering of the people. This is the first mark of a synodal Church: a listening Church. Not a Church that first asks, “What should we tell people?” but one that asks, “What are people carrying in their hearts?”

The recent Synod reminded us that listening is not a strategy, but a spiritual attitude, a way of loving. So many today feel “troubled and abandoned”: those in financial hardship, those wounded in family relationships, those anxious about the future, those drifting from faith. The question is: Do we notice? Or are we so busy and distracted that we pass by without seeing?

Synodal conversion begins in ordinary relationships: spouses listening to each other, parents listening to children and children to aging parents, priests listening to their people, parishioners listening to one another. Who around me may be feeling troubled and abandoned?

Jesus Gathers the Twelve: A Co-Responsible Church. After seeing the crowds, Jesus does something striking: he calls the Twelve. He does not carry the mission alone; he shares it. The harvest is abundant, and he knows that the mission requires a community of disciples. This is another mark of a synodal Church: communion and participation. The Church is not the work of one person—not the priest alone, not the bishop alone, not a few active parishioners. The Holy Spirit gives gifts to all the baptized.

Too often Catholics see themselves mainly as recipients: we attend Mass, receive the sacraments, support the parish, but leave the mission to others. Yet in the Gospel, Jesus first tells the disciples to pray for laborers, and then he makes them those laborers. They become the answer to the prayer they have just offered.

So too with us. We pray for stronger families, more vocations, a renewed parish, a more just society. Could it be that God is inviting us to become part of the answer? In a synodal Church, the question shifts from “What is the parish doing for me?” to “What is the Lord asking me to contribute?” What gift, talent, experience, or time is God calling me to place at the service of others?

Jesus Sends the Twelve: A Missionary Church. Finally, Jesus sends the disciples. This is where everything leads. Listening is not the final goal. Meetings and structures are not the final goal. Even communion itself exists for mission.

A Church that only looks inward eventually loses vitality. A Church that walks together must also go forth together. Pope Francis often reminds us that the Church is missionary by her very nature. We are not gathered merely to preserve ourselves; we are gathered to be sent.

Jesus instructs the apostles: heal the sick, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. In other words, bring life where there is suffering, hope where there is discouragement, mercy where there is sin and brokenness. That mission continues today. The sick still need healing and care. The lonely still need companionship. The poor still need solidarity. The young still need guidance and witnesses. Families still need hope. The Gospel still needs living witnesses, not only words.

The mission field is all around us. Perhaps your mission begins in your home, in your workplace, in your neighborhood, with someone you need to forgive, or with someone waiting for a word of encouragement.

Jesus concludes: “Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.” This is the heart of missionary discipleship. We have received God’s love freely; now we are sent to give it freely.

The Gospel today shows us the Church Jesus dreams of: a Church that listens before speaking, where all share responsibility, and that goes forth together in mission. So we might ask: Am I helping to build a listening Church? Am I taking responsibility for the mission entrusted to me? Am I living as a disciple who is sent?

For in the end, synodality is not a program. It is a way of being Church. It is the way of Jesus himself. May he teach us to walk this path together. 

Jesus, the Way (5th Sunday Easter A)

In the film Blood Diamond, Solomon Vandy, a fisherman, is captured by the Revolutionary United Front (RUF) rebels when they invade their small village. Separated from his family, Solomon is forced to work in the diamond fields.  He becomes a very significant character in the story when he finds a large diamond of rare pink coloring in the RUF diamond fields. He hides it in the field just as the government troops launch an attack. He is captured along with the captain of the rebels and taken to prison. In jail, the Captain, who has seen Solomon hide the precious diamond, rants about the hidden treasure and is overheard by Archer, a diamond smuggler who is in deep trouble. Archer becomes desperate to hunt down the stone for it can mean his redemption.  But he has not the slightest idea where the stone is. There is only one way to find the large hidden diamond: Solomon.  He is the only way. So he arranges for Solomon's release from prison and offers to help him find his family in exchange for the diamond. Then they set out on an arduous overnight trek back to the mining camp. And all along Archer cannot do anything but follow the lead of Solomon for he is the only way to the precious diamond, his redemption.

In the Gospel reading of today (Jn 14:1-12), Jesus is like Solomon who alone knows where the treasure is.  Jesus says to us, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one can come to the Father except through me” (v. 6).  This gospel reading from John is a portion of the Farewell Discourse at the Last Supper. Jesus addresses the concerns of his disciples as He announces to them his departure, that is, his death. But in the liturgical context of the Easter Season, our gospel today, as well as the first and second readings, is an invitation for us to reflect on the eventual 'departure' of Jesus in the 'Ascension' and the future of his disciples as Easter people. What are we to do after his departure?  

Trusting and Following the Way.  The departure of someone very significant to us can be very unsettling. It can leave us insecure and afraid for what is to come. Jesus addresses this anxiety by these reassuring words:  “Do not let your hearts be troubled.” These words are clearly an invitation to trust in God as Jesus indeed continues: “Trust in God still, and trust in me” (v. 1).  Trusting in God means facing the realities of our life as Easter people believing that whatever happens, God will not allow us to crumble and be crushed. Trusting is giving our best and allowing God to take care of the rest.  

We are not to worry a lot too because we know our way to the Father. Jesus has shown us the way. He is the way to the Father because He is in himself the truth, i.e. the revelation of the Father, and the life, i.e. the full knowledge of the Father, and gives the life of the Father to those who come to him.

Our earthly existence is always characterized by a restless search for what is true and meaningful. It is a journey towards the fulfillment of our destiny. In this search for truth and this journey we call life, we need Jesus. Jesus is our way. In the midst of this arduous trek, which is filled with so much difficulties, sufferings, discouragements, and stress, we just have to follow Jesus.  Without Him, we do not have the slightest idea where we are heading to.

In short, we are taught by Jesus what living the Christian life is really all about-- it is living with Jesus in faith. It is to make the Truth and the Life - the Father Himself - really ours by following Jesus who is the Way.

Growing in Identity and Ministry as a People. As the Easter season progresses, our attention is drawn beyond the intimate encounters with the Risen Jesus to the activity and organizational growth of the early Christians. In the first reading (Acts 6:1-7), we see the early Christian community effectively addressing the changing needs of a growing community by expanding its leadership structure adding specialized ministries to that of the Twelve. The community chose seven reputable men filled with wisdom and the Holy Spirit and the Apostles prayed over them for a special Church ministry. The seven chosen ones would 'serve at table' and handle the charitable works especially for the Greek-speaking Jews who were complaining that their widows were being neglected in the daily distribution of goods.  Many say this is the beginning of the ministry of the diaconate in the Church.

We see here, therefore, the growth in the way the community in Jerusalem would serve one another while giving priority to the Apostles’ main mission of spreading the Word of God.  Also, we see here the gradual shaping of the spiritual edifice which the second reading from the 1st Letter of Peter 2:4-9 speaks of. Here, Peter depicts our identity as Easter people and encourages us to be aware of our responsibility as 'living stones,' with Christ as cornerstone, to form a 'spiritual building.' The rich images that we hear in this reading present our dignity as “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people of his own” who announces his praises.

It means that through our sacrament of Baptism, like the Israelite people of old, we become a holy nation, a people set apart. We become God’s own people called to proclaim the mighty acts of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.

We are an Easter people. As such, we face the realities and challenges of our personal and communal lives with fundamental trust in God’s victory. We need not allow our hearts to be troubled, for, as an Easter people, we have known the Way to the Father. With the Risen Lord as our companion in our search and journey in life, we will never be lost for He is our way. The trek may be arduous and dark but the Lord leads us by the hand. We only need to cling to him and never ever let go when the journey gets rough and tough.

Besides, we journey as a people, the people of God, or as the spiritual edifice whose cornerstone is Jesus.  How can we ever be lost? With all these assurances of our belonging to Jesus—the Way, the Truth, and the Life—how can our hearts ever be troubled?

With Hearts Burning (3rd Sunday of Easter A)

(image grabbed from https://www.gerhardy.id.au/)

“What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the Master calls a butterfly.” This quote from the American writer, Richard Bach, echoes our Easter faith. We look beyond the sorrow, the seeming defeat of the cross of Christ and see the glory, the joy of the victory of Christ’s resurrection. Particularly in this time of great fear and anxiety, loneliness and possible depression all over the world brought about by COVID-19 pandemic, it provides all of us this much needed hope to see what’s going on through the eyes of our Easter faith.

Like the caterpillar, we can be oppressed by our short-sightedness and hence allow the darkness of the present situation to completely envelop us. Our faith in the Risen Lord, however, is the ray of light that cracks through the darkness of our cocoons and help us realize that we are destined to fly with wings of adorable colors.

The account of the two disciples on the road to Emmaus in today’s gospel (Lk 24:13-35) provides us this Easter hope. It recounts to us how these two disciples have been overcome with disappointment and discouragement because of the event of the death of Jesus Christ whom they had hoped to be the Messiah, their deliverance from oppression. With crashed hope, they walk away from Jerusalem finding it hard to believe what has transpired-- even the news of Him rising from the dead. They have given up on their aspirations; and their journey to the village, Emmaus, seven miles from Jerusalem, speaks volume about their decision to have nothing to do anymore with this failed Messiah. This is their “caterpillar view.” But the Risen Lord does not let them stay in this short-sightedness and hopelessness. The account continues to show how the Risen Lord enlightens them with a short course on the Scriptures and with the breaking of the bread until they finally realize how their hearts are burning within them with new zeal and joy so much so that they have to set out right away back to Jerusalem to tell others that Jesus is risen!

This “Emmaus account” is our Easter assurance that in our moments of darkness and hopelessness we can count on Jesus to walk with us, to stay with us, and to bring us back to our feet running with hearts on fire!

Jesus walks with us. As the two discouraged disciples walk away with heavy hearts, Jesus, the risen Lord, walks with them. Jesus accompanies them through their darkest hours, helping them see some rhyme and reason amid their hopelessness. Jesus points out through the Scriptures how faithful God is to his promise. He shows them how his suffering and seeming defeat on the cross leads to his victory, how his humiliation leads to his glory, how his death leads to everlasting life as promised by God.

Jesus walks with us during our difficult journeys in life. His Easter victory is always our strength and assurance of God’s faithfulness. Many times we cannot fathom the mysteries of life—its pains, sorrows, meaninglessness at times. But the Lord invites us to live by faith. God is good. He is faithful. The resurrection of our Lord is God’s fidelity to his promise. This we can take to the bank.

In moments of discouragement, disappointment, and hopelessness let us allow Jesus to walk with us. He is God’s Word; let us find consolation and enlightenment as we reflect on the word of God giving us assurance of his goodness and grace. Let us invite the Risen Lord to cast away the darkness and fill our hearts with his shining glory, making them burn within us as it did those of his disciples at Emmaus.

Jesus stays with us. The Lord indeed accepts the invitation of the two disciples: “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening and the day is almost over” (Lk 24:29).  The Lord takes this opportunity to join them at table and break bread with them. ‘Breaking bread’ is the early name for the Eucharist. And indeed, we see Jesus taking, blessing, breaking, and giving the bread to them. It is exactly during this moment that they recognize him as the Lord.

We experience the abiding presence of our Lord in our Eucharistic celebrations. When we do the breaking of the bread “in memory of Him,” we are not just recalling his sacrifice done in the past; the Eucharistic celebration makes present among us who participate in the meal the one and the same sacrifice of Jesus Christ in his last supper. Just as the two disciples recognize the Lord during the breaking of the bread, we also experience the presence of the risen Lord in all our Eucharistic celebrations.

When we are down and our days seem dreary, where can we go? We look for Jesus. In the Eucharist we hear his Word and we experience his living presence. We invite the Lord to stay with us. And he’ll make our hearts burn within us.

Jesus brings us back to our feet. Hearts burning with zeal and new found joy cannot be contained. The two disciples, upon recognizing the Lord, cannot wait for the next day. They have to set out at once. Now! The good news burns inside them; they have to be back on their feet, aching to tell the others back in Jerusalem who may still be reeling in their own hopelessness too. As they arrive though, they join the Eleven and other disciples affirming with joy that the Lord has been truly raised. This is the first Easter community!

We are Easter people. We carry with us the good news that brings hope to the sorrowing, the anxious, the discouraged, the depressed and anyone who sees the darkness of their cocoon as the end of the world. We may have been once in the same darkness but we now have the risen Lord with us whose glory has broken through our own experiences of hopelessness. Then, as Easter people, we have to be on our feet. We have to set out and proclaim that God is always true to his Word; that He abides with us, and He brings life to all.

The Lord is alive! This we proclaim with hearts burning.

Facing Death Smiling (5th Sunday Lent A)

Nong Titoy was my favorite Kaabag (Eucharistic Lay Minister).  I admired him because of his selfless and uncomplaining manner of serving the Church in many and varied ways. In him I witnessed how, in poverty, a man can still be very generous with his time and the gift of himself. He was old enough to be my own father yet he had shown me deep respect. When he knew he was dying of cancer, he asked for me.  While lying on his bed, he took my hand and brought it to his forehead saying, “Bless me, Father… I’m dying.” Then he sobbed silently still holding my hand. I asked him if he was in pain. He looked at me and told me he was afraid. He continued sobbing.

A little later while I administered the anointing, I told him how much I admired him as a faithful disciple of Christ, that I was really grateful for his generosity in serving the Church, that I was very proud of him.  Jesus was even more proud of him and would certainly not lose him for the Spirit of the Lord had always been with him as manifested in the way he lived.

With the assurance of Christ’s mercy and love, Nong Titoy realized he had no reason to be afraid. As we continued chatting a little bit more, his sobs gradually turned into laughter, albeit, faint and weak. He was smiling when I left. And that was my last picture of him.

Helplessness in death.  Without Jesus Christ in our life, death is frightening.  It could mean the end of everything that we have and are.  As we die, we can be filled with anxiety and fear because, without Christ, everything we have valued and cherished in this life will turn into nothing.  Without Christ, death is the end of everything for us. Period. That’s frightening.

And what is even more cruel is the experience of our helplessness in the face of death.  Death comes, like it or not. While we may be able to postpone it, we cannot do anything to stop it. In the gospel reading today, Martha expressed such helplessness in the absence of Christ: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died” (Jn. 11: 21). But it seems, in the gospel reading, Jesus allowed the feeling of helplessness to be experienced by Lazarus.  He came four days too late.  Rather than do a miracle for his friend’s sake, He seemed to have allowed death to claim Lazarus.

Why so? Perhaps, helplessness brings forth humility to accept our total dependence on God’s life-giving Spirit.  Without this source of life, we die and that’s it. Helplessness in the face of death makes us realize the power of what Jesus claims in the gospel reading: “I am the resurrection and the life whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live” (Jn. 11:25). In helplessness we realize that only God can open our graves, as promised by the Prophet Ezekiel in the first reading, and have us rise from them. Only God can put his spirit in us that we may live. In helplessness we realize, as Lazarus’ family did, that only in and through Jesus Christ that death is vanquished and new life may flourish.

Life in the Spirit.  Lazarus symbolizes the Christian, the believer, who has died in the flesh but has been given life in the spirit by the Risen Lord. Lazarus stands for all the members of the early Christian community in Rome addressed by St. Paul in the second reading (Rom 8:8-11) in these words:  “But if Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the spirit is alive because of righteousness. “  St. Paul explains to the Christian community in Rome that they now have the life in spirit through the indwelling of the Spirit of the one who raised Christ from the dead.

Lazarus symbolizes you and me today. Because of our faith in Jesus Christ, we now possess the eternal life of the spirit. This gift of new life is realized in us sacramentally through our submission to baptism. In baptism, we celebrate our faith in Jesus.  Through the ritual act of immersion into the baptismal water, we symbolically experience our helplessness in death; and by emerging from the water, we joyfully rise with new life, the gift of the Spirit of Christ dwelling in us.

Invitation to Live Fully.  We easily think of eternal life as a future gift. By thinking so, often we miss to appreciate the gift of that same divine life—the life in the spirit--already given to us through our baptism. Jesus is the resurrection and life. Anyone who believes in him, even if he dies, will live. This is so because we already possess here and now the life given by Christ. Our physical death is only our passage to the fullness of eternal life.

Easter is approaching.  The joy of Lenten anticipation of Easter looks forward to the celebration of the triumph of Christ over sin and death.  The joy reminds us to live out fully every day the gift of new life that Christ has won for us and has given us in baptism. When we have lived out fully our life in the spirit—characterized by our love and service of God and neighbor--we can face our own death smiling as Nong Titoy did.  For with the spirit of the risen Christ already dwelling in us, death is nothing but a passage to the consummation of the gift of life well-lived.    

Children of Light (4th Sunday Lent A)

I see trees of green and red roses too; I see them bloom for me and for you;
And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world!”

I see skies of blue and clouds of white; Bright blessed days, dark sacred nights;
And I think to myself, “What a wonderful world!”

Louis Armstrong’s distinctive gravelly voice caught my attention and led me, for the first time, into an appreciation of this beautiful song. Much later, with Michael Buble’s contemporary rendition, I fell in love again with this song a second time. And again, a third time, when I heard a local artist in Zamboanga City, sang this with his dark shades on in a restobar. What’s amazing in his performance was not that he had a superior quality of voice compared to the two great singers who popularized the song. No. What’s incredible was the fact that he was a blind man. When he joined us at table after his performance, he allowed me to witness a great irony in life. Here was a blind man who, I presumed to be living in the dark, but surprisingly, had a way of seeing and celebrating the beauty and wonders of life; he could honestly proclaim at the top of his lungs, "What a wonderful world!" Whereas I had been with many people with perfect eyesight but, alas, stuck in the unfortunate dark side of life, grumbling, unable to celebrate with joy the gift of light and life.

(grabbed from http://junialeigh.wordpress.com)

A similar irony is depicted by today’s gospel reading (Jn 9:1-41). A blind man since birth is healed by Jesus. Not only is he enabled to see, he also grows in his faith. He begins to know Jesus Christ and accepts him as the Son of Man. In this gospel incident, the blind, who has been in darkness and believed to be under the curse of sin, embraces the light of Christ and is freed by Christ’s saving grace and becomes a believer. Ironically, the Pharisees who are known for their strict observance of the Law of Moses and who pride in their holiness turn out to be the ones suffering from serious form of blindness as they refuse to see God’s saving grace at work in Jesus. They refuse to embrace the light of Christ. They persist in condemning the blind man to his state of sinfulness. They are incapable of celebrating the joy of liberation from sin and darkness. They refuse to believe in Jesus as the savior.

The healing of the blind man proclaims that Jesus is the light of the world.  He frees those who accept his grace from the darkness of sin. The blind man’s washing in the Pool of Siloam hints at the cleansing ritual of baptism where we embrace our faith in Jesus and accepts him as our savior. Like the blind man, we used to be people of darkness but through the light of Christ received in baptism we become children of the light.

St. Paul, in the second reading (Eph 5:8-14), admonishes the Christian community in Ephesus to live as children of light: “Brothers and sisters, you were once darkness, but, now, you are light, in the Lord. Behave as children of light.” The Ephesians lived once without faith but through baptism have been enlightened. They must now live according to their new life in the light. The admonition to behave as children of light is an invitation towards two things: To do only what is good and to expose the works of darkness as here explained by St. Paul: “You, yourselves, search out what pleases the Lord, and take no part in works of darkness, that are of no benefit; expose them instead.”

Like the blind man and the early Christian community in Ephesus, we too have become children of the light in Christ. The season of Lent is our invitation to behave as children of the light. This may imply a lot of things but allow me to suggest three things in the light of our readings:

Exposing what remains in the dark. Behaving as children of light means exposing whatever is done in the dark as St. Paul reminds us. This season, we can expose to the light of Christ the remaining darkness in our lives. We can allow the light of the Lord to shine in us as it dispels the darkness of our sins. In our examination of conscience let us invite Jesus to enlighten us and lead us towards sincere act of contrition. In the Sacrament of Penance and reconciliation, we can bravely expose our sins by confession and allow God’s mercy to embrace us.

Celebrating the triumph of grace. Behaving as children of light also invites us to celebrate with joy the truth of God’s saving grace working in our lives. Rather than grumbling over the imperfections within us and around us, let us, with the eyes of faith, see the triumph of the light of God’s grace over the darkness of sin. Let us think to ourselves, “What a wonderful world!” for this world is truly blessed by God. Let us acknowledge God’s blessings. Let us be grateful for our blessings and be joyful when others are blessed too by God’s grace.

Becoming the light of the world. Finally, behaving as children of light is becoming the light of Christ to others by our good works. Our goodness is the light of Christ shining in us. St. Paul reminds us that “the fruits of light are kindness, justice and truth, in every form.” We can be a light to others, especially to those suffering from different forms of misery, when we reach out to them with kindness, when we commit ourselves for the cause of justice, when we relate to others with sincerity and work with honesty.

As we continue with our Lenten journey towards Easter, we strengthen our conviction that we are no longer a people of darkness. We have Jesus who has given us his light and liberated us from our disoriented groping in the dark alleys of sin. Let us behave, then, as children of light.

God's Blessing (2nd Sunday Lent A)

(grabbed from filipinofunfacts.wordpress.com)

One distinctly Filipino cultural practice that is really close to my heart is the “Mano po” tradition. The gesture is performed as a sign of respect to elders and as a way of asking the elders’ blessing. Similar to hand-kissing, the person asking the blessing bows towards the offered hand of the elder and presses his or her forehead on the hand as the elder gives his blessing by saying, “God bless you.” I have enjoyed doing this as a child and still does to my superiors. As a priest, one of my little joys is when children run to me, often after mass, to get my hand that they may have my blessing. It makes me deeply happy to bless each of them, to wish them, as they grow, a life filled with the grace of God and away from the curse of sin.

I hope every Filipino family continues to practice this beautiful tradition. This allows us to participate in God’s desire to bless all of his children. Today’s readings reveal to us the heart of God who only wants to bless all of us; the readings too offer us the opportunity to see God’s blessing both as a gift and a task. How do we attain the blessing of God? Can we be a blessing to others?

God’s blessing as a gift. The blessing of God is freely offered to us. In the history of this fallen world, we have known only of sin and its curse. But God cannot allow us to remain in the darkness and slavery of sin. He has reached out to us starting with the covenant with his chosen people, Israel, from whom the Savior of the world, Jesus Christ, will come.

Hence, the first reading (Gn 12:1-4a) recounts the call of Abraham, the beginning of God’s covenant. In this reading, God commands Abraham to leave his homeland and go where the Lord leads him. God explains his plan:  "I will make of you a great nation, and I will bless you... All the communities of the earth shall find blessing in you."

In the second reading (2 Tm 1: 8b-10), we have the fulfillment of the blessing promised to Abraham.  St. Paul recognizes the great blessing of salvation and the vocation to holiness as a favor given to us through Christ. This favor is pure gift. St. Paul explains that it is not by our works that we merited God’s blessing of new life.  God offered it as a gift. Christ obtained it for us.

Gratitude, then, must be our constant disposition as we live out the blessing of new life in Christ. Am I grateful for my blessings--meaningful life, abundance, fulfillment and happiness, wisdom, maturity, loving relationships, family?

God’s blessing as a task.  While the blessing of God is a gift, freely offered to us and obtained for us by Christ, today’s readings remind us that it is also a task.  First, this means a blessed life is a journey marked by obedience to the commands of God.  We are assured of the gift of God’s blessing when we follow God’s commands because his commandments are the pathways to blessedness.  Disobedience has led humanity to the slavery of sin and the insecurity of death; only the love of God can take away the curse of sin. Abraham was blessed and his descendants through him because he trusted and obeyed God’s command for him to set off to a land which God would show him. Jesus Christ won for all of humanity and creation the ultimate blessing of salvation and life because he has undone Adam’s disobedience by his own obedience to the Father even to the cross and unto death.

In today’s gospel reading (Mt 17: 1-9), Jesus is transfigured before Peter, James, and John.  In this vision, the voice of the Father is heard saying: “This is my beloved Son, on whom my favor rests; listen to him.” Jesus, the beloved Son, is our way to a truly blessed life; hence, the Father reminds us to listen to him.

Our generation needs this reminder. We have turned into an arrogant people who listen only to our own whims and caprices. We don’t want to obey. We assert what we want.  We need to realize that this arrogance is leading us to destruction. We need to rediscover our trust in God’s commandments which lead us to a blessed life. We need to be reminded to listen to Jesus.

Becoming a blessing to others. The second meaning of God’s blessing being a task is the invitation to become God’s instrument of blessing to others.  Not only did Abraham receive the blessing of God, he was designated to be a blessing to “all the communities of the earth.”  Jesus is identified as the favored Son of God that He may bring salvation to all.

We cannot have the gift of God’s blessing and be selfish.  When we are blessed, we are invited, too, to share the blessing to others. To be a blessing to others can be demanding. This can mean moving out of our comfort zones as Abraham left behind his homeland to a yet unknown destination set by God. This can mean self-denial and self-giving like what Jesus had done for us. This can mean what St. Paul has written to Timothy to “bear your share of hardship for the gospel with the strength that comes from God” (2 Tm 1: 8). We can be a blessing to others as we selflessly do the works of mercy.

The Filipino practice of pagmamano is beautiful because it invites the parents and elders to participate in God’s desire to bless his children.  We can all impart blessing to one another. We can be a blessing to others.

Lent is a season of blessing. Let us heed these three invitations as we continue our journey into this grace-filled season: Be grateful for God’s blessing; seek always the will of God by listening to Jesus in humble obedience; be a blessing to others by your self-denial and self-giving. God bless us all!

Sin and Grace (1st Sunday Lent A)

Satan summoned three demons to be sent for a mission with this instruction: "Go to the ends of the earth and deceive as many people as you possibly can, causing them to be lost.”  Before they set off Satan asked them about their plans.  The first demon stepped forward and said, "I’ll tell them there is no God."  Satan disagreed saying, "That would work on a few people, but most wouldn't buy it. There is too much evidence that a Creator God exists.” The second demon confidently laid out his plan: "I will teach everybody that there is no hell." Satan just laughed. "No, that would not work either. People know better than that! They have clear concepts of punishment.”  The third demon rose and said, "I will tell them that there is no sin, they can relax, enjoy and do whatever they feel like doing.” Satan said, "Hmm… I like that. Many people would like that. Go then and deceive them!” 

Our contemporary societies are increasingly losing the sense of sin. What used to be clearly evil and immoral can now become normative and even claimed as rights. People demand respect for doing what feels good and true to them ignoring objective norms that have guided societies for centuries.  The individual person becomes now the reference of what is good and true as manifested in this assertion, “My mind, my body, my choice!”

The season of Lent is a grace-filled opportunity for all of us to face this moral crisis squarely and see the realities of our lives through the perspective of our faith. The light of faith can expose the deception of the evil one just as Christ laid bare the emptiness of Satan’s lure in the desert.

As we enter the first week of Lent, our liturgical readings right away reminds us about what people of today seem to deny—the reality of sin. Yet these same readings point us more importantly to God’s grace overcoming sin and its effect in and through Christ.

The first reading (Gn 2:7-9, 3:1-7), by way of the story of the fall of Adam and Eve, reminds us that sin is a reality.  It is not part of God’s design but finds its source in the human’s disobedience to God. For St. Paul, in the second reading (Rom 5:12-19), the sin of the first parents has become a universal condition which has brought death to all. “Through one person sin entered the world, and through sin, death, and thus death came to all inasmuch as all sinned” (v. 13).

We need not deny, then, the reality of sin. It has entered the world and has become like an ambience around us which our weakened will ratifies by our personal sinfulness. But the season of Lent does not stop at this reminder of the reality of sin. This season is not just about our sinfulness. It is more about our need for forgiveness and the liberating truth of our redemption through Christ.  As St. Paul continues to say, “For if, by the transgression of one person, death came to reign through that one, how much more will those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of justification come to reign in life through the one person Jesus Christ” (v. 17).

Hence, we enter the season of Lent with humility.  We enter with the awareness of being sinners in need of God’s love and mercy.  We enter with hope. And that hope is offered by Jesus Christ.

In the gospel reading (Mt 4:1-11), we find our hope of overcoming the temptation of sin through Christ who has overcome it.  Three lessons we can discern from the narrative of Christ’s temptation:

Proper Ordering of our Values.  We must always value God’s will over and above the natural demands of our physical and sensual appetite. The world insists to “obey your thirst.” Satan tempts Jesus in the gospel reading to “gratify his hunger” by turning stones to bread. Both are invitation to live according to the natural desire of the flesh.  Jesus points out that there is a higher invitation to live a life in the spirit whose source is not the bread but the will of God.  To overcome the temptation of sin, we have to put order to our values. When God is always our top priority, nothing can go wrong.

Acting with Responsibility.  This means doing things with good reasons. Satan tempts Jesus to jump off the cliff. What for? What is good in jumping off the cliff? Nothing.  Perhaps, for the heck of it or just to show off.  This is akin to the just-do-it advertisement.  Jesus, of course, does not jump for there is no good reason to do it. We cannot live by the popular slogan, “Just do it.” We have to live and do things with purpose. To overcome the temptation of sin, we have to act always with responsibility.

Not Justifying Evil Means to a Good End. Just like my reminder to my students during exams: Do not cheat in order to earn more points; it’s not worth it. Jesus, in the gospel reading, is tempted by the devil to possess all the kingdoms of the world by worshiping the devil.  What an empty proposal!  Many times we are tempted to justify evil means to achieve something good.  For instance, we want a good life for our family but we engage in dishonesty and corruption in order to achieve it. The Lord is reminding us not to succumb to this temptation for we will end up with nothing. Never justify evil means to a good end and you’ll be doing fine.

Again, we enter the season of Lent with humility. We are sinners. We participate in the sinful condition of the world.  But, at the same time, we enter this season with hope because we also possess the grace of Christ. And his grace is far more encompassing and penetrating than sin. This season invites us to cooperate more intimately with the grace of Christ who restores whatever sin has destroyed.

What’s in Your Heart? (6th Sunday Ordinary A)

“Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” St. Teresa of Calcutta, in saying this, was giving us the key to the potential greatness of our human endeavor whatever that is.  The key lies in the interior disposition of the heart. When the heart is totally involved in what you do, no matter what it is, how important or insignificant it is, it naturally acquires meaning.  One of the saddest human predicaments is when one finds his life given to things without one’s heart in them. It is sad as it is meaningless.

The heart is important in whatever we do.  External gestures and actions may be impeccably correct and meticulously perfected but without the heart they are but mechanical or even morally hypocritical. Jesus is sensitively aware of this fact.  His recurring criticism of the scribes and Pharisees is directed towards their splendid following of the letter of the law (the Torah) while missing out on the crucially important interior disposition of a heart that truly loves God.  Jesus sees the bottom line of such form of righteousness:  There may be an admirable external appearance of love of God but beneath what meets the eye is a damning emptiness or, most probably, self-love.

Hence, in today’s gospel (Mt 5:17-37), we hear once again Jesus’ warning:  “I tell you, unless your righteousness surpasses that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will not enter into the kingdom of heaven” (v. 20).    

Christ looks to the heart. The different lessons that he teaches in the gospel reading are all pointing to the essential place of the heart in Christian morality. Certainly, our exterior behavior must follow God's will. But Jesus is trying to tell us that exterior behavior and appearances are not enough. To truly fulfill the law, the interior motives and the desires of the heart must first be in harmony with what God wills.

It is therefore crucial that as followers of Christ we make sure that our hearts beat for God.  It is important, as Jesus points out, that we safeguard our hearts from corruption.  Jesus identifies in the gospel reading three interior dispositions of which our hearts need to be purified: anger, lust, and dishonesty.

Anger.  The law of Moses clearly forbids killing; and violation to this commandment deserves judgment. But Jesus looks to the heart and warns us of the first instance of the desire for murder—anger:  “But I say to you, whoever is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment.”  Jesus is telling us not to allow anger to consume our hearts and to destroy our relationship with our brothers and sisters in the faith.  Instead of harboring grudges in our hearts, Jesus teaches us to desire and seek reconciliation so that before we offer gifts to the altar, we make it a point that we first settle peaceably with anyone whom we had some form of conflict.  

Lust.  The law commands thus, “You shall not commit adultery.” Again Jesus perfects the law by looking into our hearts and warning us of lust as the first instance of adultery: “But I say to you, everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart.” Lust destroys our love and respect for others as we begin to desire in our hearts to use them as objects of our pleasure and self-indulgence. Jesus commands us to do what is necessary to avoid succumbing into this temptation as he instructs, “Cut your eyes off if this lead you to sin…” Instead of allowing lust to corrupt our hearts, our invitation is to exercise the virtue of purity of mind and heart and cultivate fidelity in marriage in order to strengthen all the more its unbreakable bond which is presently being challenged by a growing divorce mentality.

Dishonesty.  The law forbids taking a false oath.  Some Jews of Jesus' time had developed the habit of swearing oaths in the name of God if they meant to keep them, and swearing on something else if they meant to break them. Jesus again looks to the heart and warns us of dishonesty.  Jesus instructs us not to swear at all but to be truthful with what we say: Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’ mean ‘No.’ Simple but clear. In our present social context of rampant corruption, our challenge is to be credible witnesses of truth and models of integrity.

Again, in whatever we do, the interior disposition of the heart matters most. It is incumbent in us then as disciples of Christ to always purify our hearts of sinful desires and malicious motives. Let us beg the grace of God always to fill our hearts with nothing but love of Him. With love in our hearts, we can surpass the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees. We may be incapable of doing grandiose things but we can certainly do small things but with great meaning.

Making a Difference (5th Sunday Ordinary A)

The American poet, essayist, and transcendentalist philosopher Ralph Waldo Emerson believed that making a difference in life is the essential point of living. “The purpose of life,” according to him, “is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived and lived well.” 

(Photo grabbed from www.actioncoach.com)

As followers of Christ too, making a difference for the world is our essential calling. It is our life-mission. Jesus, in today’s gospel reading (Mt 5: 13-16), explains to his followers what he expects of them.  By way of images, He instructs them about their life-mission: “You are the salt of the earth… You are the light of the world” (v. 13-14). Let us reflect on each of these images—salt and light—and draw the implications each has on our Christian life.

“You are the salt of the earth.” Salt had two important uses in the ancient world: it gave flavor to food, and it also preserved food. They didn’t have “magic sarap” then or any other ready-made seasoning. They didn't have refrigerators either, so they would preserve meat by putting a thin layer of salt over it. So by implication, we understand that “to be the salt of the earth” means two things for us: First, just as salt gives flavor to food, so are we to bring “flavor” or meaning or to point out what brings lasting joy to the lives of people around us.  Second, just as salt preserves food from decay, so Christ’s followers are called to preserve the society from corruption and moral decadence.

Wherever we are, our presence has to make a difference.  We cannot afford to be Christ’s followers and, at the same time, be just among the others living la vida loca, the kind of life this world dictates.  If this absorption into the worldly value system happens, our Christian life becomes a tasteless salt.  Jesus’ warning is loud and clear regarding this possible sad state: “But if salt loses its taste, with what can it be seasoned? It is no longer good for anything but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot” (Mt 5:13).  Ouch!  A Christian life that does not bring any difference into the world is useless so to speak.

More often than not, the calling to be the salt of the earth demands a Christian living that is counter-cultural.  Serious Christians cannot live by the old political adage that says, “If you can’t lick ‘em, join ‘em. “ Christians do not live by what is popular; their lives instead testify to what truly brings joy and moral uprightness which the world oftentimes ignores.  Christians, as salt of the earth, live with joy in simplicity and deep spiritual relationship with others and God amid the dominant materialistic trends. Christians testify by their lives that there is true joy in purity of mind and heart, in self-respect, in fidelity to a committed loving relationship, and in family life despite the pervasive pleasure-seeking sexual revolution that has raised generations who are afraid of responsibility and commitment. Christians uphold the sacred value of life and the dignity of every person against the world’s culture of death that discards as liabilities the poor, the defenseless fetus, the unproductive sick and aged.

Be the salt of the earth: Make a difference in the world by the way you live—as witness to the values of Christ.

“You are the light of the world.”  Light had the same function then as it does now:  to push back the darkness. But in the ancient world, before the advent of electricity, darkness was a much more dramatic reality than it is to us. The ancients, unlike us today, understood how helpless they were without a lamp.  Hence, it was unthinkable to light a lamp and hide it under a bushel basket.  A lamp had to be set on a stand to give light to all.

Darkness has always been equated with sin and the absence of God. It is light that dispels darkness; light represents the saving grace and presence of God.  To be the light of the world means that the disciples are to manifest by their good works the saving grace and presence of God in the world. “Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father” (Mt 5: 16). Our good works manifest to the world the compassionate and loving God who is within us.  In our good deeds, God is glorified.

The first reading (Is 58:7-10) recounts how Isaiah reminded the people of Israel who just resettled from exile to give primacy to works of charity over the empty religious rituals of fasting.  Isaiah counseled them to share food to the hungry, shelter to the homeless, clothes to the naked, and assistance to those in need.  Today, Christians are called to commit to the works of justice, charity, peace, and the integrity of creation.  Again, we cannot afford to hide in the sacristy or in the air-conditioned adoration chapel. While prayer and contemplation is essential to our Christian life, it ought to lead us all the more to the loving service of the needy.  Otherwise, we might end up like a burning lamp hidden under a bushel basket.

Be the light of the world: Make a difference in this world darkened by sin. Let your good deeds proclaim the goodness of God. “Then your light shall break forth like the dawn” (Is. 58: 8).

Roadmap to True Happiness (4th Sunday Ordinary A)

The pursuit of true happiness is every human being's concern. Since time immemorial philosophers have grappled with the question of happiness— what makes the human being happy? There has to be an answer to this quest lest human life would be nothing but a cruel existence. Humanity has tried several roadmaps that are hoped to lead towards the answer: The worldly roadmaps and the Christian roadmap.

Worldly Roadmaps . Several principles have been espoused in relation to this pursuit. To be happy, the Hedonists proposed the pleasure principle: "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow you will die." Those who subscribe to this principle have given themselves to indulgence in many and varied forms of pleasure in order to be happy. Many others have tried the materialistic principle: "I shop therefore I am." Their aim in life is to have more and more of the goods of this world. Wealth and comfort become for them the secret to a happy and contented life. Another road taken by some is guided by the power principle: "Might is right." To be happy in this life, one has to make sure of one's control and dominance over other people; even force, violence, and manipulation are necessary to maintain being on top. Still others go by the celebrity principle: "Fame is the name of the game." Happiness is when one is idolized by millions of fans who buy just anything one endorses.  

Apparently these principles or the combination of some of these have become the standard roadmaps to happiness in this world. Yet experience teaches us that these roadmaps fail to truly provide the true happiness our hearts are seeking for. We try any of these principles; live by it religiously; and end up still wanting more... and more. Still unhappy.   Why? What, then, is lacking in all these?

GOD. God is forgotten in these worldly pursuits. In Matthew 16:26, Jesus tells the crowd, "For what will it profit a man if he gains the whole world and forfeits his soul?" Here Jesus points out that our worldly pursuit surely does not guarantee our happiness. In earlier chapter, He teaches that God's Kingdom is everything we have to seek: "For the Gentiles seek all these things; and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well" (Mt 6:32-33).

Christian Roadmap . In today's gospel (Mt. 5:1-12), Jesus reveals the secret to blessedness or happiness: It is the disposition of an interior freedom for God and his Kingdom. And this disposition is expressed by way of the eight beatitudes that Jesus lays down in this Gospel passage—poverty in spirit, mourning, meekness, hunger for righteousness, being merciful, purity of heart, being peacemaker, being persecuted for righteousness. Each of these inclines a person's heart away from the deceptive glitters of the world and, more importantly, towards God and his Kingdom—the true source of blessedness. And it is important to note that all these are but aspects of Jesus' own life. When He speaks of blessedness, He speaks from experience. He is the poor in spirit, the meek, the merciful, the pure of heart, the persecuted, etc. The beatitudes are not a bunch of abstract principles; they are the concrete manifestation of Jesus' own blessedness and total openness to God the Father. Jesus is the first Blessed One. As such, He reveals to us how to be fully human and truly blessed.

What makes us happy? Jesus provides us with the concrete answer. He is the answer. He is the truly blessed One, our roadmap to true happiness. Our contemplation of the person of Jesus Christ, as a way of searching for the answer, has to lead us to the imitation of him.  We need to change our roadmap and adopt Jesus' roadmap. We need to resolve to adopt the standards that Jesus sets before us. We have to embrace his beatitudes as our very own standards for life, if we are serious about being truly happy like Him.

What roadmap must we choose? The philosopher Nietzsche wrongly accused Christianity of espousing values ​​which are but "consolation prizes" for the unfortunate of this world. No. Christianity invites a person to imitate the most fortunate and blessed man who ever lived: Jesus Christ. Hence, as Jesus has shown us, between the choice of basking in worldly pomp and striving for spiritual poverty, we choose the latter for it ushers us to the greatest treasure, the Kingdom of God. 

Between having control of power and working for justice, between wallowing in insatiable forms of pleasure and being pure of heart, between enjoying our accolade in this world and being persecuted for Christ, we know the latter is the choice of Christ as it is in accordance to the standard of God's kingdom and, therefore, our own choice too. Jesus is the Blessed One; and as we live according to his values, his blessedness is surely ours too.

Which roadmap to happiness would you commit to? That of the world? Or the beatitudes laid out by Jesus Christ? Of course, we are Christ's disciples, our option is clear. We are invited by the Lord to lead a truly blessed life. It is the life He has shown us.  

Wanted: Missionary Disciples (3rd Sunday Ordinary A)

“We are all missionary disciples.” Pope Francis stresses in his apostolic exhortation, Evangelii Gaudium, that by virtue of baptism, “Every Christian is a missionary to the extent that he or she has encountered the love of God in Christ Jesus: We no longer say that we are ‘disciples’ and ‘missionaries’, but rather that we are always ‘missionary disciples’” (EG, 120).

We are always missionary disciples. We are called so that we might be sent. We are invited to a deeper friendship with the Lord so that we can go forth to share the joy of that fellowship to all. Discipleship is not just following the Lord. It also means being sent just as today’s gospel recounts how the Lord called his first disciples who were fishermen so that they might become fishers of men: “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men” (Mt 4:19).

Let us reflect then deeper on the meaning and implications of this calling in the light of today’s gospel (Mt 4:12-23). First, we may ask, “What does it take to be a disciple of Christ?” What does it require of me to follow Christ? And second, how should we understand the missionary nature of discipleship?

Discipleship and its Cost. Spiritual writers and theologians have been using the phrase, “the cost of discipleship,” or “costly discipleship” as opposed to “cheap discipleship.” These refer to the fact that when we decide to follow Christ, such a decision is never easy because there is a high cost to it. Discipleship is demanding. When it does not require something great from us, chances are it is unauthentic discipleship; it is cheap as it is empty. 

In the light of today’s gospel reading, it is discernible that the cost of discipleship is high indeed. When the Lord, walking by the Sea of Galilee, invited some fishermen—Simon (Peter) and his brother Andrew—to come after him, “at once they left their nets and followed him” (v. 20).  Walking further along, the Lord saw two other brothers in a boat, James and John, the sons of Zebedee. The Lord called them and “immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him” (v. 22).

If we were fishermen, what would the fishing net and boat mean to us? Of course, these would be very important to us as these could mean more than just things; the net and the boat could well represent our means of living, our very way of life which most probably has been handed down to us by our parents.  Hence, today’s gospel is illustrating to us that to follow the Lord, to be his disciple requires leaving behind a way of life—nets, boats, fathers included! No mean feat indeed.

To turn away from all that we have clung to in life is also a process called conversion, in Greek, metanoia, which means a change of heart.  In today’s gospel, as Jesus begins his public ministry, he calls for metanoia for the sake of God’s Kingdom: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand” (v. 17). As he calls his disciples, he invites them to a change of heart. To be able to follow him in the path of the kingdom of God, those called have to leave behind the life they have gotten used to otherwise they would not be able to embrace the new life offered by the Lord. They have to turn away from an old value system that they may embrace the new values of Christ and the Kingdom.

Discipleship demands conversion. When we don’t take this demand seriously, when we prefer not to be disturbed as we follow the Lord, our discipleship is a sham because, for all we know, we have not actually left our boats and nets.  We may just be fooling ourselves.

What stands as our fishing net or boat? To follow the Lord more truthfully, what do we need to let go of? A meaningless work? A destructive relationship? Attachment to things? Addictions? Materialistic and narcissistic lifestyle?

Missionary Option.  To use the term of Pope Francis, “missionary option” may mean for us as our decision to be always in a state of mission. Discipleship always implies a missionary option.  Whoever the Lord calls to come after him is in not only for friendship with him but precisely for a mission: “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” It is not for nothing that we leave behind our nets and boats and fathers. When we courageously choose to follow the Lord, we experience the infinite love and mercy of God; we experience the reign of God in our lives. We experience total salvation. It is this tremendous goodness of God that propels us with joy to become fishers of men. We go forth and share to all people this joy of being loved and saved.

We are always missionary disciples. Discipleship is not only following the Lord and enjoying fellowship with him and with the other disciples; it is also being sent to the lost, the least, and the last that they too may also hear, through us, the good news of the saving love of God, that they too may choose to belong to the kingdom of God.

To whom are we sent? Who are the lost, the least, and the last in our community? An aging parent? A wayward sibling? Uncatechized children? A hungry neighbor?  An unwed couple? A destroyed environment?

All too often we tend to choose to be safe and comfortable with our old fishing nets and boats. Courtesy, perhaps, of our protective parents.  But when we remain always in our safe and comfort zones we do not grow much. We end up bored and unhappy. Life is robbed of joy. Or as disciples, we may just choose to stay in the consoling fellowship of the Lord with the exclusive elect without reaching out to others; such discipleship is narcissistic.   

The true disciples of Christ are daring. Risk-takers. Courageous.  They leave behind their comfort zones--nets, boats, and fathers--to reach out to others and proclaim the saving love of God. Their lives are never boring but are always filled with joy.  Such is the beautiful invitation to become fishers of men, to become missionary disciples.