Jesus' Compassion (18th Sunday Ordinary A)

How do we muster the strength to continue being concerned with the needs and suffering of others when we ourselves are in pain and in sorrow?  Don’t we conveniently make our own suffering an excuse to be insensitive to others?  

I used to bring Holy Communion to an old lady way back my seminary formation days.  She had a son, her only child, who took care of her.  For about two years, I visited her at home every Sunday after mass.  She would gladly receive the Holy Communion.  She was very sweet to me.  One Christmas break, I missed to visit her for two Sundays as I was in vacation. During my absence, her only son died in an accident! So when I resumed my visit, I witnessed her grief and anger.  Her characteristic sweetness was gone. She would wail and raise hell as I entered her house and she would blame God—the merciless God—for the tragedy.  She refused to receive communion for several Sundays. She recovered later though.

When we are in pain we can be too self-absorbed to see the suffering of other people.  Oftentimes, we call attention to ourselves and demand sympathy. Worse, sometimes, we are rendered paralyzed unable to move on with life. Some would just give up on life and others would persist in cynicism.

Drawing strength from our suffering. Jesus is in pain in today’s Gospel (Mt. 14: 13-21). When He heard of John’s death, “He withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself” (v. 13). Well, the passage is a plain and simple report of a seemingly negligible gesture of Jesus.  It does not describe, for instance, how terrible Jesus feels.

While it does not explicitly say that Jesus is in grief due to a loss of a significant person in his life, the account, perhaps, leaves it to the reader who knows the relationship of John the Baptist to Jesus the Messiah to figure out how Jesus feels.  His forerunner is dead. Beheaded! The person who paved the way for his mission is murdered brutally.  Jesus must be in terrible sorrow.  This may indeed explain his withdrawal to a deserted place.

In this Gospel episode, we learn from Jesus that we need to wrestle with our grief and to feel our pain and sorrow.  However, we need not stay there.  We should not allow our suffering to suck the life out of us.  We’ve got to move on.  Instead of sulking and blaming others and God for our suffering, we better come to grips with the situation and turn our suffering into our very strength to understand the pain of others.

 

Compassion is "suffering with" others. I believe here lies the secret of the compassion of Jesus—He knows by experience how it is to suffer... to be in pain... to lose someone dear...  to feel the terrible anguish over some events that test our faith... to grapple with questions that shake our convictions.  I would like to believe that Jesus, while in solitude, makes it a point to be in touch with his own pains, anguish, and disturbing questions.  So that, when he disembarks from his isolation, he emerges as a person with a sensitive heart, one that easily sees the real suffering of the vast crowd, a heart that is easily moved with pity (v. 14). “Compassion” after all literally means “to suffer with.”

What are the significant forms of our own pain and suffering in life? What sort of persons have we become because of them? Have we turned into bitter persons or better ones?  Have we become cynical, grouchy, and unproductive persons? Or Hopeful, tender, and compassionate?

Compassion calls for self-giving. Moreover, the rest of the gospel episode reveals that Jesus’ compassion spurs him on beyond plain emotional and sentimental identification with the suffering of people.  He acts on what he sees and feels.  He cures the sick and feeds the hungry, accordingly about five thousand men not counting the women and children (v. 14-20).  

The event of the feeding of such a great number of hungry people tempts us to look at it easily through a miracle-worker understanding of Jesus.  Jesus manages to feed all of them because of his capacity for miracles.  Problem solved.  However, another way of approaching the episode is to consider it as a sacramental catechesis (favored by more commentators).  The feeding event points to the Eucharistic celebration as evidenced by the Eucharistic language--blessing... breaking... giving... (v. 19).  Jesus offers himself in the symbol of the bread.  He is the bread blessed, broken, and given for the sake of his people.

Jesus’ compassion is truly an act of “suffering with” his people.  It is not some magical solutions that he offers to ease the people’s suffering.  He does not believe in shortcuts.  Shortcuts are the devil’s strategy that calls attention to oneself by a display of power.  What Jesus offers is himself.  His compassion urges him towards total self-giving.  If the people are suffering, Jesus is right there with them suffering too as he empowers and gives hope by his sacrificial bestowal of self.

When we are in pain, we may do well to ask for the grace to draw from it the very strength we need to continue to be concerned about the suffering of people around us. And may we share in the compassion of Jesus, thus, helping us to muster the courage to be truly involved in giving hope to one another.

Quest for Eternal Life (20th Sunday Ordinary B)

Was it in the mid-90s that we heard of the health product “Forever Living?” It is a variety of food supplements that promise better health and, therefore, longer life. The name even bears the audacious suggestion of immortality! No wonder that a good number of people have been taking it even if its maintenance costs them an arm and a leg. After all, life is precious.

Among the hoi polloi though who couldn’t afford expensive health supplements, Ernie Baron, known to be the “walking encyclopedia,” popularized his “Pito-Pito”— a blend of seeds or leaves of seven traditional medicinal plants—as a cure-all tea for health problems.

To date, countless health products mushroomed in the market, the latest being that of a stem-cell booster to keep our cells and tissues young. What a wonder! Good news for the “baby boomers” who wish to feel and look a generation younger.

Despite the “culture of death” that is gradually creeping in, e.g. the conspiracy of legalizing measures that suppress the flourishing of life, I believe, humanity’s love for life is inextinguishable. We all see this as people swim for dear life and heroically rescue one another in the face of super typhoons and heavy rains that have flooded thousands of houses. Needless to say, we see life as precious. And not only that, the human spirit will always refuse to die as it has an incontrovertible sense of its eternal destiny.

The gospel reading this Sunday (Jn 6:51-58) is the third sequel of the Bread of Life discourse. This is already the third Sunday that we’ve been reflecting on the theme: Jesus, the Bread of Life. This gospel is the real good news. It has to say about the human spirit’s quest for eternal life.

I think, for all of us who consciously or unconsciously desire to live forever, the gospel today has something to offer that food supplements and health tea cannot. Jesus’ body is the “true food” and his blood the “true drink.” The gospel promises that whoever eats the flesh of the Son of Man and drinks his blood has eternal life (v. 54).

I would like us to reflect more deeply on that promise of eternal life. Almost always we take “eternal life” to mean everlasting life or, as the name of the food supplement suggests, “forever living.” And this is to be experienced in the hereafter. People are always concerned about the length of life. But essentially eternal life is more about the quality of life than just about the length. For who would want longevity if such a life, corrupted by sin, is not worth living on the first place?

Essentially eternal life is divine life. Jesus explains in today’s Gospel, “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him. Just as the living Father sent me and I have life because of the Father, so also the one who feeds on me will have life because of me (vv.56-57). So Jesus is actually sharing the divine life he received from the Father to whoever receives him. Jesus is sharing with us the quality of life that is divine.

When we receive the Lord in our life, first in baptism and in the Eucharist, we are given new life and this is sharing in the divine life, for we remain in him and he in us. How do we live out this divine life? I think the answer is: To live as God lives, i.e., to love! Deus Caritas Est. “God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him” (1 Jn 4:16). Pope Benedict’s encyclical Deus Caritas Est describes God’s love as agape—a self-sacrificing love… a love that forgives… even on the cross!

The kind of life that Jesus is giving us is the life that is characterized by agape. And this is the highest quality of life one can ever have! This is a life of self-giving rather than self-serving, a life of forgiving rather than forsaking and hating. Without Jesus, the true food and the true drink, this highest quality of life would be impossible for the sinful and self-centered human being. But with him we can have eternal life, his divine life the essence of which is love. We can have it in the “here and now” and in the hereafter.

Forever living also means forever loving! We will still die of course... naturally. But the death of someone who has lived the life of Christ is but a glorious culmination of a life well-spent and a birth to the everlasting life where one permanently shares in the eternal agape of God.

Cravings and Satisfaction (18th Sunday Ordinary B)

Down South, Bubba called his attorney and asked, "Is it true they're suin' the cigarette companies for causing people to get cancer?

"Yes, Bubba, sure is true,” responded the lawyer.

"And now someone's suin' them fast food restaurants for making 'em fat and cloggin' their hearts with all them burgers and fries, is that true mister lawyer?"

"Sure is Bubba. But why you asking?"

"Cause what I want to know is, I was thinkin' can I sue Budweiser for all them ugly women I've slept with?"

We may take offense at Bubba’s sexist undertones but more to the point is how the conversation reveals the folly of indulging in our cravings and then blaming others for the harm and meaninglessness it brings to our life.

This generation that pampers and glorifies the body is more likely a reaction to the generation of ascetics. While the generations before exercised self-denial, lived an austere lifestyle, and even “punished” the body for greater spiritual freedom, today, our generation has developed a proclivity to bodily pleasure and physical satisfaction. We eat, drink, smoke, and indulge in sex to our heart’s content. Or the more health conscious among us show extra care for the body by taking whatever food supplements available. The vain among us, moreover, are just happy to spend their fortune for cosmetic applications and procedures if only to enhance and maintain their beautiful looks. We search for satisfaction and we seem to hope to find it by way of physical gratification.

But the fact is we are never satisfied. We end up feeling emptier despite the clutter with which we have bombarded our selves, more hungry and enslaved by stronger cravings than when we started out the quest for satisfaction.

Jesus, in today’s gospel (Jn 6: 24-35), chided the crowd that have been following him. They were following him for the wrong reason--for satisfaction of bodily hunger. They had partaken of the loaves miraculously multiplied by Jesus. Now they were following him for more bread! Jesus pointed this out to them as he said, “You are looking for me not because you saw signs but because you ate the loaves and were filled” (v. 26).

Jesus, wishing to lead them to the real meaning of the signs, continued addressing them and said, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger” (v. 35). Jesus is the bread who truly satisfies us. This is the meaning of the miracle. It is He, Jesus, who satisfies not just our physical hunger but more deeply our spiritual hunger. Jesus is asking us to follow him not for more miracles of bread for the hungry stomach. He is asking us to follow HIM, the bread of life. His way of life is what satisfies our human existence truly. Discipleship offers us true meaning in life.

Our problem today is much similar to that of the crowd following Jesus. We don’t take notice of our spiritual hunger as much as we do our physical cravings. We spend our money, energy, and time much on food, drinks, sex, cosmetics, food supplements and whatever gives us immediate but temporary gratification. But how much do we invest for our spiritual needs and longing?

What is tricky though is that even when we believe we are into spiritual things we may still be suffering from profound spiritual handicap. For instance, as Charles Ringma noted (in the Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen) many of the renewal movements that offer a ‘life in the Spirit’ do not produce “a depth of spirituality with a vision for God, a strength of personal character, a passion for God’s Kingdom of justice and mercy, and a prayer life which expresses itself in costly discipleship and servanthood. Life in the Spirit has often become a comfortable self-seeking and ‘me-centered’ form of spirituality which emphasizes joy, but knows little about growth through trial and difficulty.”

Hence, while we think we are spiritually filled, we may in fact be empty-handed much like the crowd following Jesus for the sake of self-interested blessings. Our spiritual hunger persists because we are fed with bread other than Jesus himself.

What’s the invitation then? It is to attend to our spiritual longing by ‘feeding’ on the Bread of Life, Jesus Christ. This of course reminds us of our participation in the sacrament of the Eucharist where we receive Jesus, the Lord, through the signs of the bread and wine. Do we nourish our spiritual hunger by our meaningful celebration of the Eucharist?

But beyond the sacramental celebration though, the invitation is for us to allow Jesus to dwell in us and let our lives be transformed into the kind that Jesus demands of us. In other words, beyond the sacramental participation, or more appropriately, along with it, is the invitation to real discipleship.

A satisfying life necessarily has to move beyond physical and temporary gratification of our hungers which paradoxically leads to a deeper emptiness. A fully satisfying life is that which is driven by a spirituality—one that is God-centered, passionate for God’s Kingdom of justice, peace and love. It is a spirituality of ‘costly discipleship’—following not merely for the bread and for the sake of the blessings but following Jesus HIMSELF, his way of life characterized by service and self-giving.