Magnanimous Heart (Passion Sunday A)

Mother Teresa used to tell an anecdote about suffering:  "I never forget one day when I met a lady who was dying of cancer and I could see the way she was struggling with that terrible pain. And I said to her: ‘You know this is but the kiss of Jesus, a sign that you have come so close to Him on the cross that He can kiss you.’  And she joined her hands together and said, 'Mother Teresa, please tell Jesus to stop kissing me'."

Mother Teresa explained her story by saying, "This is the joy of suffering, the kiss of Jesus. Do not be afraid to share in that joy of suffering with Him because He will never give us more suffering than we are able to bear." When she herself struggled with being overwhelmed at times, Mother Teresa also said, "I know God won't give me anything I can't handle, but I just wish he didn't trust me so much!"

No one in his right mind wishes to suffer.  But in this broken and sinful world, suffering is an inevitable lot.  Mother Teresa taught us to embrace it anyhow with joy believing that we are suffering with Jesus.  Hence, we share in Jesus’ suffering which is redemptive.

Today, we contemplate Jesus’ passion and death not in order to glorify suffering as such. Suffering is brought about by sin; nothing glorious in that. But in contemplation of his passion, we discern the greatness of the heart of Jesus and the depth of God’s love for us.  Our liturgical readings today allow us to see, not so much the horrendous face of suffering itself, but the magnanimity of Jesus’ heart as He fulfills his self-sacrificing mission of saving all of us. Jesus’ magnanimity is seen in his humility, obedience, and trust in the Father.

Humility.  Today’s liturgy begins with the commemoration of Jesus’ triumphant entry into the city of Jerusalem.  The reading (Mt 21:1-11), portrays Jesus entering the city riding on a donkey.  The symbolic meaning of the donkey shows us how Jesus the Christ won his victory over sin and evil: through humility. He could have entered majestically with horses and chariots as the kings of their times did. No. He chose to ride a donkey which was a useful beast of burden, but not a glorious and impressive one.

And that's exactly like the Christian virtue of humility, by which we lower ourselves in order to help raise up others, to serve them. And this is what Jesus did, as St. Paul tells us in today's second reading (Phil 2:6-11): “Though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness... he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.”  While the Messiah was expected by all to come and rule with power and might, Jesus chose to be a suffering Messiah enduring all the pains and humiliations done against him.  By way of humility, Jesus raised us all up.

Obedience.  The sin of the first parents was disobedience to God.  Adam and Eve’s defiance shattered God's beautiful plan.  It let loose the scourge of evil, and the power of sin took over earthly society. No one could liberate oneself from the slavery of sin. Only the Savior, Jesus Christ.  And through his passion, death, and resurrection, Jesus reversed the disobedience of original sin by obeying his Father's will. In the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus agonized over his impending passion and death as he prayed: “My Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; yet, not as I will, but as you will.” 

The long reading on the Passion of our Lord (Mt 26:14—27:66) underscores Jesus’ obedience to the Father in spite of all the devil's attempts to foil his saving mission. All the sufferings of Jesus—the pain of betrayal  and abandonment by close friends, the false accusations and condemnation, the humiliation, the scourging and crowning with thorns, the torture of crucifixion—were the devil's attempts to get Jesus to say "no" to his Father, just as he had gotten Adam and Eve to say "no." But Jesus remained obedient to the Father even unto his death.  Jesus’ submission to the will of the Father reversed mankind’s disobedience.  

Trust.  Those who were mocking our crucified Lord said: “He trusted in God; let him deliver him now if he wants him. For he said, ‘I am the Son of God.’” This was perhaps the greatest test of Jesus’ trust in the Father.  When he was nearing his last breath, the Father was silent, tolerant of all Jesus had suffered; the Father seemed to have abandoned him as he hang on the cross bearing the sinfulness of mankind.  So, in a loud voice, Jesus cried out: “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This was perhaps the darkest hour in all of Jesus’ life. But still Jesus surrendered everything to the Father. When even his own human understanding could no longer fathom the depth of the mystery of his own death, Jesus turned to the Father with complete trust.  Just before Jesus took his last breath, he cried out: “Father, into your hands, I commit my spirit” (Lk 23:46).

As we contemplate the passion of our Lord, let us see beyond the bruises, gaping wounds and the humiliations that our Lord endured. Let us see not just the suffering of Jesus but precisely what made his suffering meaningful for us—his great love.  Indeed, as Mother Teresa mentioned, we can speak of “the joy of suffering” with Jesus; it is when we embrace our own share of suffering with magnanimity of heart shown in our humility, obedience, and total trust in God.

Obey Your Thirst (3rd Sunday Lent A)

(grabbed from http://ccdumaguete.com)

The dry season is in the air. The green grasses around our homes are turning brown. The soil is starting to become parched. The rain is scarce. The heat is on. We perspire a lot and our thirst intensifies. Under these circumstances, we cannot but “obey our thirst” as the ads remind us over and over again. Actually, we do not need even a modicum of reminder when it comes to obeying our thirst as we cannot do otherwise. We obey it by necessity. What needs a great amount of reminding in us is our choice of the things with which we try to quench our thirst. The ads entice us to patronize a certain brand of beverage which promises optimum satisfaction. Still, we all know that nothing beats fresh water. Yet whether we drink the advertised refreshing beverages or simply the ice-cold fresh water, what we experience is only provisional satisfaction. We keep coming back as we grow thirsty again and again.

Our thirst seems to be infinite. As such, it cannot be completely slaked by finite things this world can offer.  Hence, if we keep on going back to the temporary answers to our thirst expecting to be fully satisfied, we sure will end up in restless frustrations.

Two Kinds of Thirst. I find very helpful our awareness of the distinction between two levels of thirst that we all experience in life.  The first level of thirst is the horizontal yearning.  We yearn for the good things that this world offers:  refreshing drink, delicious food, a cozy house, a decent income, pleasures and entertainment, friendship and companionship. It is but natural to desire these things and when sought within reasonable limits, these are actually not bad. But much deeper than this yearning for earthly goods is our experience of the vertical yearning.  This is our thirst for meaning.  All human beings are in search for this meaning.  Experience tells us that no amount of goods in this world can totally satisfy this thirst. Only the vertical friendship with God provides the answer to this infinite longing.  Only the infinite love of God satisfies this deepest thirst.

Obeying our thirst wisely, then, means distinguishing between these two kinds of thirst which are naturally operating in us.  It is foolish to seek satisfaction of our deepest longing for meaning in the temporary horizontal goods like food, wealth, fame, pleasure, human relationships.   They all provide temporary answers.  People who have tried this foolish way ended up frustrated, lonely, unhappy, and empty.  St. Augustine had tried this for many years before he realized that, as he wrote in his Confession, "You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our heart is restless until it rests in you." 

Source of Living Water.  In today’s gospel reading (Jn 4: 5-42), Jesus is in conversation with a Samaritan woman who is drawing water from Jacob’s well.  Jesus takes the opportunity to enlighten this woman regarding the source of living water that can truly quench her thirst. Commentaries explain that this woman had lived in disappointment, loneliness, and insecurities.  She had lived with five husbands and now she was with another man whom she hadn't even married. On account of this status, she was drawing water from Jacob’s well at the hottest time of the day in order to avoid the other women in the town as they would just ridicule her.

We can discern that this woman had been trying to quench her deepest thirst for meaning and for infinite love with worldly goods like human love, comfort, and earthly pleasures.  In the process, she ended up miserable and lonely. But her meeting with the Lord at Jacob’s well changed everything. She came to the cistern to draw water that had kept her coming back for more but she encountered the source of living water, the “spring of water welling up to eternal life,” Jesus Christ.  With her encounter with Christ and her acceptance of him in faith, not only did her life turned around completely, she even became an enthusiastic missionary to the people in her village announcing the good news.  The whole town came to believe in Jesus.

A Season for Obeying our Thirst. Lent is a time for obeying our thirst—not so much the thirst for horizontal stuff which leave us craving for more but our deepest thirst for meaning, our thirst for the infinite love of God.  In this season of grace, let us allow Jesus to quench our thirst as we unmask the emptiness of the promise of satisfaction offered to us by the things of this world:

To what well do I keep coming back in life in order to seek satisfaction of my thirst? Just like the Samaritan woman, we can go through life, searching for the little things in life that satisfy our thirst – perhaps pleasure, material things, a challenging job or a friendship. All these things satisfy, but their satisfaction is provisional and we must return to them again and again. Again, to what do you turn to satisfy your thirst? Don’t you think you have enough of these?

Have I discovered the source of the living water that truly satisfies? Just as Jesus offered the living water, the life of grace, to the Samaritan woman, He offers the same to all. He shares this life of grace with us in abundance.  When we accept his offer of life-giving grace, our lives can turn around from endless frustrations to a meaningful and joyful life.  This season of Lent is our opportunity to make this change happen.  Am I ready to open my heart to Jesus the source of the living water?

Obey your thirst. Like the Samaritan woman, beg the Lord to give you the living water that you may not be thirsty or have to keep coming back to the well that never satisfies.

The Vow of Non-violence (7th Sunday Ordinary A)

Edsa Revolution: Love vs. Military Force

I made a private vow several years ago when I was completing my graduate studies at Loyola School of Theology. I made a vow of active non-violence inspired by today’s gospel  reading (Mt 5:38-48) and by the witnesses in modern history, like Mahatma Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr., to its transformative power in our personal and social lives.  After years of conscious and, sometimes, unconscious living out of this private vow, I believe it has changed me for the better. I believe I have become kinder in my words and thoughts, gentler in my ways and approaches, more positive and hopeful in my outlook amid discouraging circumstances, and more peaceful in my disposition in the midst of continuing turmoil in the external world.  This is such good news; so I am extending with joy at the end of this reflection the invitation to anyone touched by the Spirit to make the same private vow. Wink.

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

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

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

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

Loving the Enemies.  “But I say to you, love your enemies, and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your heavenly Father, for he makes his sun rise on the bad and the good, and causes rain to fall on the just and the unjust” (Mt. 5: 44-45).  Jesus does not speak here of the romantic and sentimental type of love that is always accompanied by “kilig” as one feels in the presence of an irresistible funny valentine.  Love here is not about feeling good towards one’s enemies. It is, instead, in its fundamental essence, an act of the will. Love is willing whatever is good for the other. While we usually do not feel good towards our enemies, we can still will what is good for them.  We can pray and bless them for instance as Jesus explicitly taught by his words and example: “Father forgive them for they know not what they do” (Lk 23:34).

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

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

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