Sharpening the Saw (16th Sunday Ordinary B)

I chanced upon this story years ago. I’m not sure now of its source.

A man was struggling in the woods to saw down a tree. An old farmer came by, watched for a while, and then quietly said, “What are you doing?”
“Can’t you see?” the man impatiently replied, “I’m sawing down this tree.”

“You look exhausted,” said the farmer. “How long have you been at it?”
“Over five hours, and I’m beat,” replied the man. “This is hard work.”

“That saw looks pretty dull,” said the farmer. “Why don’t you take a break for a few minutes and sharpen it? I’m sure it would go a lot faster.”
“I don’t have time to sharpen the saw,” the man says emphatically. “I’m too busy sawing!”

Taking a break from what we do in order to “sharpen the saw” is necessary for us to be efficient and effective. But oftentimes this truth about our need for self-renewal does not seem to be obvious to us. In our desire to do more and produce more, we do not see the value of taking a break and “sharpening the saw.” We do not want to waste our precious time; hence, we go ahead oblivious of the fact that we have already become dull and ineffective.

One of the best authors on leadership, Stephen R. Covey, regarded “Sharpening the saw” as the final habit among the seven habits of highly effective people. He calls it the habit of self-renewal. For him, excellent performance is a function of the excellence of an instrument. The instrument is ourselves. Hence, the greatest single investment of time and effort is in ourselves. To stop and sharpen the instrument is never a waste of time. It is, in business parlance, a necessary investment.

Jesus, in the gospel reading today (Mk. 6: 30-34), is aware of this principle of self-renewal. As the apostles gather and report to him what they had done and taught, He instructs them saying: "Come away by yourselves to a deserted place and rest a while" (v. 31). How consoling these words are for someone who's been committed to the work of God's Kingdom and for those concerned for the betterment of humanity. The work can be tiring, replete with pain and sacrifices, as this is the cross we have committed to carry. Suddenly the Lord does not mention the cross. This time He sends invitation for renewal—to REST in a deserted place. The Lord knows we can get tired and we need to R... E... S... T...

Renewal. Evaluation. Silence. Thanksgiving.

Renewal. To stop for awhile and sharpen the “instrument” is a process of self-renewal. The deserted place to where we are invited by the Lord to be in communion with Him is our place of renewal—A place that energizes us for the mission. As we emerge from the place, we obtain new zeal, new strength to continue facing life's struggles and mission. To spend time with God is never a waste of time.

Evaluation. Taking a break can also come in the form of assessing what we have been doing. Coming away to a lonely place symbolizes the time dedicated to look back and examine the direction we have taken, the soundness of the decisions made, the goals set to be pursued. We check if these are still in consonance with God's will. Imagine spending all our life to commitments and causes not according to God’s design. That is what constitutes a real waste of time.

Silence. Taking a break can mean moving out of the hustle and bustle of our everyday life. The invitation to a lonely place is an invitation to silence. But in this place, we are not alone. God is there to meet us. Only in silence that we become sensitive to God's presence. In silence, we can relish the warmth of God's love that we otherwise do not notice in the heart of our busy life. What else can be a greater source of renewal than that of the assurance of God’s abiding love.

Thanksgiving. When we are renewed, when we have examined ourselves and aligned to God our decisions and commitments, when we are bathed in the reassuring love of God, we experience the rejuvenating beauty of life. Gratitude becomes the language of our hearts and we express our thanksgiving not only with words but with everything that we do and we are. Our whole life becomes itself a song of thanksgiving to God.

Indeed, such is a far cry to our dull, listless, tired and ineffective busy life. We need to sharpen the saw. It is never a waste of time to accept the Lord’s invitation to come away to a lonely place and REST awhile.

 

Invitation to Silence (4th Sunday Ordinary B)

During Pope Francis' visit to the Philippines in January of 2015, one of the most moving encounters of the Filipino people with him was perhaps when he invited all to a moment of silence—silence in the midst of the unspeakable remembrance of the agony, pain, loss, and other forms of suffering that had befallen the people of Tacloban.

"Some of you lost part of your families, all I can do is keep silence, and I walk with you all with my silent heart...I have no more words to tell you." These words of Pope Francis revealed how silence has allowed him to show his own limits and humility. But this honest expression of vulnerability has, all the more, humanized the papacy and made him a captivating figure to many people.

For me, such an invitation to silence, coming from a humble Pope, is a reminder that in silence, more than in its doctrinal eloquence, Christianity is in its finest. In silence, Christianity’s compassion for the poor and the suffering becomes pure, honest, and unmistakable.

Few people have discovered the eloquence of silence.  Most people live and have mastered the art of thriving in the noise of anxieties, charting their way to success through the multi-layered pile of tasks, important concerns, and, no doubt, noble responsibilities.  For these people addicted to productive activities, silence is strange.  Silence is unbearably a waste of their precious time.

In today’s gospel (Mk. 1: 21-28), Jesus commanded the man with an unclean spirit to be quiet: “Quiet!  Come out of him!”  Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit this way because he was ranting and raving as Jesus was teaching with authority in the synagogue.  The man with an unclean spirit was resisting Jesus’ authority as he cried out “What have you to do with us...? Have you come to destroy us?  I know who you are—the Holy One of God!” 

Such is the noise of resistance to God’s authority.  Like the evil spirit, all too often we find ourselves declaring our autonomy from external authorities like God’s. “What have you to do with us?” We are afraid that God might ask us to change and “destroy” our own grand plans in life. We acknowledge his Holiness but we do not trust God enough to allow him to be the God of our lives!  Hence, we keep on ranting, filling our hearts with the noise of resistance.  No wonder, many times we are afraid to be silent.

Today we listen to the Lord as He commands us with authority, “Be quiet!”  Only in that deep state of silence can God speak into our hearts.  I propose the following invitations to silence:

The silence of emptiness.  Cluttered with all our worldly concerns and anxieties, our minds and hearts have no room to offer for God.  We need to de-clutter.  We need to give space for God’s Word to penetrate our hearts.  Silence is an invitation to emptiness.  To be truly silent is to be empty in such a way that our only yearning is to be graciously filled up with the sense of being loved by God. 

The silence of powerlessness.  Satan’s bad habit is to perpetually resist the authority of God.  Satan wants to wield power and to be his own God.  We do feel this evil tendency in us very strongly.  We want to be “the captain of our souls.”  We want to be the ones taking hold of the helm of our fate.  We have to admit, we can be control freaks.  We seem to be disoriented and lost when we are not in control. That is why we resist God’s directions.  We cannot let go. Silence is the courage to be powerless in the face of God. Silence is letting go of our control and being docile to God’s command, “Be quiet! Come out!”  Hence, silence is an invitation for us to give up our futile resistance and let God be the God of our lives.

The silence of peace and harmony.  This is the experience of tranquillity after we have been purged of the “unclean spirit.”  This is the peace that sets in after the convulsions of our defiance.  We seek harmony in life.  We can only attain it by making silence an integral part of our busy lives. We can have peace and harmony when we have replaced our bad habit of harbouring anxieties and resistance in our hearts with the powerful habit of incorporating into our practical lives the eloquent power of silence.  The silence of harmony is like the silences in between the notes of a great musical composition. All those notes fail to form a harmonious melody when they are not woven together by the silences that connect them all. So are the endless concerns in our lives.

The euphoria of the Pope’s visit soon died down. And rightly so, in order that we, in the same silence he called for, may do well to allow his message of mercy and compassion to sink in and become truly an honest impulse in our response to the suffering of the poor.

Be Quiet! Know That I Am God! (4th Sunday Ordinary B)

I think I was ordained to the diaconate twice!  

In November of 1998, together with my batch, except for one Benedictine monk who had a separate venue and schedule of ordination, I submitted myself willingly to the Order of Diaconate held at St. Augustine Cathedral in the Archdiocese of Cagayan de Oro.  After all the busy preparations and the heady day of ordination which, of course, included the inevitable and exhausting socialization at the reception, what I felt was the feeling of great relief that everything went well and I was already a deacon. I thought that was all that mattered.

After some time, the batch was invited to attend the ordination of the monk at the Transfiguration Chapel of the Benedictines in Malaybalay.  I was there awed by the silence of the surroundings and the chapel.  Few people were invited. Hence, the liturgy turned out to be enviably solemn.  During the rite, I was washed with a deep sense of tranquillity with my mind and heart freed from the disturbing noise of anxieties that had preoccupied me for the most part of my own ordination.  As the ordination rite went on, my tears were flowing like a stream because, in that deep state of silence that I found myself in, I felt I was being ordained a second time.  And this time, my whole being participated!

Few people have discovered the eloquence of silence.  Most people live and mastered the art of thriving in the noise of anxieties, charting their way to success through the multi-layered pile of tasks, important concerns, and, no doubt, noble responsibilities.  For these people addicted to productive activities, silence is strange.  Silence is unbearably a waste of their precious time.

In today’s gospel (Mk. 1: 21-28), Jesus commanded the man with an unclean spirit to be quiet: “Quiet!  Come out of him!”  Jesus rebuked the unclean spirit this way because he was ranting and raving as Jesus was teaching with authority in the synagogue.  The man with an unclean spirit was resisting Jesus’ authority as he cried out “What have you to do with us...? Have you come to destroy us?  I know who you are—the Holy One of God!” 

Such is the noise of resistance to God’s authority.  Like the evil spirit, all too often we find ourselves declaring our autonomy from external authorities like God’s. “What have you to do with us?” We say even unknowingly. We are afraid that God might ask us to change and “destroy” our own grand plans in life. We acknowledge his Holiness but we do not trust God enough to allow him to be the God of our lives!  Hence, we keep on ranting, filling our hearts with the noise of resistance.  No wonder, many times we are afraid to be silent. We do not want to admit Him into our lives.

Today we listen to the Lord as He commands us with authority, “Be quiet!”  Only in that deep state of silence can God speak into our hearts.  I propose the following invitations to silence:

The silence of emptiness.  Cluttered with all our worldly concerns and anxieties, our minds and hearts have no room to offer for God.  We need to de-clutter.  We need to give space for God’s Word to penetrate our hearts.  Silence is an invitation to emptiness.  To be truly silent is to be empty in such a way that our only yearning is to be graciously filled up with the sense of being loved by God. 

The silence of powerlessness.  Satan’s bad habit is to perpetually resist the authority of God.  Satan wants to wield power and to be his own God.  We do feel this evil tendency in us very strongly.  We want to be “the captain of our souls.”  We want to be the ones taking hold of the helm of our fate.  We have to admit, we can be control freaks.  We seem to be disoriented and lost when we are not in control. That is why we resist God’s directions.  We cannot let go. Silence is the courage to be powerless in the face of God. Silence is letting go of our control and being docile to God’s command, “Be quiet! Come out!”  Hence, silence is an invitation for us to give up our futile resistance and let God be the God of our lives.

The silence of peace and harmony.  This is the experience of tranquillity after we have been purged of the “unclean spirit.”  This is the peace that sets in after the convulsions of our defiance.  We seek harmony in life.  We can only attain it by making silence an integral part of our busy lives. We can have peace and harmony when we have replaced our bad habit of harbouring anxieties and resistance in our hearts with the powerful habit of incorporating into our practical lives the eloquent power of silence.  The silence of harmony is like the silences in between the notes of a great musical composition. All those notes fail to form a harmonious melody when they are not woven together by the silences that connect them all. So are the endless concerns in our lives.

In a retreat house I’ve visited, a poster hangs on a wall.  And as if to remind every guest that he stands in a haven of silence, it has this to say: BE QUIET AND BE STILL. KNOW THAT I AM GOD!