Acts 2:1-11; Psalm 104; 1 Cor 12:3-13; John 20:19-23
When I was missioned to the Kino Border Initiative at the US-Mexican border in 2011, I didn't know how to speak Spanish. I could glean a few words here and there, owing to the Spanish colonial history of the Philippines. But that's about it. Every day, I would pray the Padre Nuestro before breakfast at the comedor. Fr. Alfeo Nudas SJ, my Juniorate professor advised us, "If you are not sure, say it with confidence." And so I tried speaking in Spanish with great confianza, but I knew understanding was not just about speaking. "Communication," John P. Kotter said, "comes in both words and deeds, and the latter are the most powerful form." (Leading Change)
And so I tried communicating and understanding the plight of undocumented migrants, not just through words, but in deeds. It was muy dificil, however it became less and less difficult as the days progressed. In theater, actors before the play internalized their roles. Eventually, they became the character they played. This theater background of mine was a good starting point. Embracing and internalizing my responsibility, I began to open my heart to be transformed by them.
Eventually, cooking frijoles and tortillas, praying in Spanish, washing dishes and providing assistance to both migrants and volunteers, I gradually understood. Beneath both words and deeds that seemed disconnected, we come to gain a sense of oneness, a spirit that connects us all. The women who have been victims of violence and rape need not describe to me the gory details, or the men who had been separated from their families need not explain to me their experience for me to get it. I just understood deeply. Their plight had become mine.
I believe this is Pentecost. Our discovery of humanity's connective tissue is what we celebrate today. The disciples who have been disappointed gain new hope from renewed understanding. The barriers of division, brought about by a variety of languages, have collapsed. People from different places, began to understand the disciples who were speaking in tongues, their own tongues. No one was lost in translation.
We remember the Tower of Babel which was unfinished. There was division because they did not understand each other. They wanted to be like God so they thought they could reach God in the highest heavens. That was their folly. And so God's punishment was to scatter them throughout the world. This was the myth that explained our different tongues, and why union among nations had been elusive.
Pentecost then is the antithesis to the Tower of Babel. We need not build a tower to reach God. It was God's decision to come down to us and be one of us. We need not quarrel in disagreement, because the Holy Spirit that is given to us allows us to understand each other, both in words and in deeds.
And thus Pentecost celebrates communion. And people who are united in heart, mind and spirit, naturaliy becomes a church under one God-head, Jesus Christ.
This is therefore not the time to build fences. This is the right time for us to destroy them.
Globalization destroys physical divisions. The internet has broken boundaries. There are emerging global languages that would allow more people to understand each other better, beyond the division of creed, color and culture. Human categories of division such as nations and subdivisions are illusions. There are no superior races, we are all human beings, wrought from the same earth, loved by only one God.
And thus it is time. It is time to rethink what does it mean to be a parish. In the past, parishes were territorial. If one resides within the territory of the parish, then the parish priest can demand that all your faith and sacramental practices were spent within the parish.
But to assert authority today, as a feudal lord to his serfs, is not the way to go. Parishioners can now choose where they want to worship. Because modern transportation, roads and bridges have broken down boundaries. Twitter and facebook statuses and posts have popularized recommended churches with the right ingredients - short and substantial homilies, great music (which our brothers and sisters from different sects exploit to its maximum potential), and a warmer community. Today, we priests sell our wares, hoping people will buy them; before, when the next church requires a long travel by karitella, parishioners were stuck with whoever they got.
And thus on the Solemnity of Pentecost, we dream that wherever our parishioners go, they will always feel at home in whatever church they choose. In wherever part of the globe they visit, they will feel this oneness and unity. They will always get a good pastor who gives substantial inspiring homilies, good music that brings them to the lofitier ideals of meaning, purpose and division, and a warm welcoming community that embodies the one and only love of all, Jesus Christ. Is this the new Jerusalem?
After all, we all reflect on the same Scripture; we share the same stories of faith; and we are all united by one Love. Within our own differrent traditions, we Catholics are united by the Pope.
12 May 2013 The Solemnity of the Ascension of Jesus Christ. Acts 1: 1-11; Psalm 47; Heb 9:24-28; Luke 24:46-53
The Solemnity of Ascension of Jesus Christ is a celebration of the end of His earthly ministry. It is when Jesus know that the time has come for him to let go. It is the perfect time to trust his disciples that they too will be able to continue His mission on earth.
The time has come. Great decision-makers possess a sense of the ripeness of things. They know when the time has come, and it is this knowledge that drives the decisions they make.
There is a river that passes modern Savignano, in Northern Italy called the Rubicon River. It is unimpressive today as it was during the time of Julius Caesar, when he stood on its northern bank in 49 BC. It is small to attract attention. With a little drought, the river dries up. To cross it is simple: there is a little bridge that would allow you to reach the other bank.
But during the time of Julius Caesar it was significant. The Rubicon divided Northern Italy. The Northern state was governed by Rome’s senate and the Emperor Pompey. Caesar controlled the other side, called the Cisalpine Gaul. Pompey was once Caear’s ally, but now he was his archrival. To bring an army to the other side would mean civil war. It was forbidden by the Lex Cornelia Majestatis, that a Roman general should lead an army out of his province to which he was assigned. But not to cross means to bring the whole nation into calamity. Rome was misgoverned. To remain on his side means to condone corruption.
According to the great historian Suetonius, Julius Caesar, after some thought, crossed the Rubicon River. Knowing that to cross he would have to conquer Rome or be killed, he called out, “Let us accept this as a sign from the gods, and follow where the beckon, in vengeance on our double-dealing enemies. Alea iacta est!” The die is cast!
Julius Caesar’s audacity gave to the Roman state and to the Greco-Roman civilization, four more centuries of life in the West and six more in the East. He gave to the world a heritage that is greater than history. Until today, the influence of the Greco-Roman civilization is undeniable. It continues to educate us, inform our cultures and evaluate our governments. Crossing the Rubicon river was a great decision. Knowing when was the mark of Julius Caesar.
Like Jesus, great leaders knew when the time has come. Columbus would decide to take the risk to venture into the new world in 1492; Galileo would decide to rethink reality and the universe in 1633; Beethoven would decide to overcome deafness in 1802; Lincoln would emancipate slaves in 1862; Gandhi would decide to choose non-violent revolution in 1893; and John F. Kennedy would decide to let humankind leave the earth in 1961. Many great decision-makers know when it was time.
The same thing for us as we go out and vote tomorrow, 13 May 2013. We must know which candidates know when the time has come for them to let go and let others take their place. We must know which candidates possess the Rubicon factor, those who can decide in a moment of crisis, when to venture into the new global world, when to decide on the light of conscience in a world which tests our moral norms; when to decide to risk everything; and when to decide on the side of peace and hope.
Our mothers do possess the Rubicon factor. My mom used to say, “I have gathered you, in order for me to let you go.” Motherhood is knowing when is the ripe time to gather her brood, and when is the perfect time to let them go. It is about knowing when to decide for their good, and when to let them decide for their own good. Motherhood is about great decision-making. We have seen decisions, when not done wisely and carefully, how it has affected their children, who in turn, because of their misdemeanour, affects others they encounter.
But the Solemnity of the Ascension has another point: it is during his Ascension that the Lord also promised his disciples the Holy Spirit. In other words, leadership is not just about knowing when is the time to entrust, but to also ensure that those entrusted are equipped to carry on the mission they are to perform.
Clearly understanding the weakness and challenges of his disciples, the Lord has promised them the gifts of the Holy Spirit that will allow them to preach the Gospel of the Lord as He preached them. By doing so, the Lord has made his disciples his witnesses, to represent Him in contemporary time.
The Rubicon River
Therefore, all of us here today, as we live in the here and now, are called to be witnesses of the Gospel of repentance and forgiveness.
The Gospel of repentance includes a knowledge of the evils in our world, an acceptance that we too have been part of it, and a remorse that we have destroyed God’s goodness. For example, it is knowing that we are not yet free from the clutches of greed, as we’ve seen in the APECO scandal and the greed of the Angaras in Quezon Province. I have also witnessed the greed of Rudy Banico and the Crown Regency as they drive the Ati Community of Boracay from their ancestral domain. I am sure that you too have your own personal experiences of the ills of our nation.
Therefore, we are now like Julius Caesar who contemplated to cross the little bridge of our own Rubicons. And we know it is now the time.
But unlike Julius Caesar, we have been given what we all need: the Holy Spirit. We can do it.
Homily of Pope Francis Chrism Mass, Holy Thursday St. Peter's Basilica 28 March 2013
Dear Brothers and Sisters, This morning I have the joy of celebrating my first Chrism Mass as the Bishop of Rome. I greet all of you with affection, especially you, dear priests, who, like myself, today recall the day of your ordination.
The readings of our Mass speak of God’s “anointed ones”: the suffering Servant of Isaiah, King David and Jesus our Lord. All three have this in common: the anointing that they receive is meant in turn to anoint God’s faithful people, whose servants they are; they are anointed for the poor, for prisoners, for the oppressed… A fine image of this “being for” others can be found in the Psalm: “It is like the precious oil upon the head, running down upon the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down upon the collar of his robe” (Ps 133:2). The image of spreading oil, flowing down from the beard of Aaron upon the collar of his sacred robe, is an image of the priestly anointing which, through Christ, the Anointed One, reaches the ends of the earth, represented by the robe.
The sacred robes of the High Priest are rich in symbolism. One such symbol is that the names of the children of Israel were engraved on the onyx stones mounted on the shoulder-pieces of the ephod, the ancestor of our present-day chasuble: six on the stone of the right shoulder-piece and six on that of the left (cf. Ex 28:6-14). The names of the twelve tribes of Israel were also engraved on the breastplate (cf. Es 28:21). This means that the priest celebrates by carrying on his shoulders the people entrusted to his care and bearing their names written in his heart. When we put on our simple chasuble, it might well make us feel, upon our shoulders and in our hearts, the burdens and the faces of our faithful people, our saints and martyrs of whom there are many in these times…
From the beauty of all these liturgical things, which is not so much about trappings and fine fabrics than about the glory of our God resplendent in his people, alive and strengthened, we turn to a consideration of activity, action. The precious oil which anoints the head of Aaron does more than simply lend fragrance to his person; it overflows down to “the edges”. The Lord will say this clearly: his anointing is meant for the poor, prisoners and the sick, for those who are sorrowing and alone. The ointment is not intended just to make us fragrant, much less to be kept in a jar, for then it would become rancid … and the heart bitter.
A good priest can be recognized by the way his people are anointed. This is a clear test. When our people are anointed with the oil of gladness, it is obvious: for example, when they leave Mass looking as if they have heard good news. Our people like to hear the Gospel preached with “unction”, they like it when the Gospel we preach touches their daily lives, when it runs down like the oil of Aaron to the edges of reality, when it brings light to moments of extreme darkness, to the “outskirts” where people of faith are most exposed to the onslaught of those who want to tear down their faith. People thank us because they feel that we have prayed over the realities of their everyday lives, their troubles, their joys, their burdens and their hopes. And when they feel that the fragrance of the Anointed One, of Christ, has come to them through us, they feel encouraged to entrust to us everything they want to bring before the Lord: “Pray for me, Father, because I have this problem”, “Bless me”, “Pray for me” – these words are the sign that the anointing has flowed down to the edges of the robe, for it has turned into prayer. The prayers of the people of God. When we have this relationship with God and with his people, and grace passes through us, then we are priests, mediators between God and men. What I want to emphasize is that we need constantly to stir up God’s grace and perceive in every request, even those requests that are inconvenient and at times purely material or downright banal – but only apparently so – the desire of our people to be anointed with fragrant oil, since they know that we have it. To perceive and to sense, even as the Lord sensed the hope-filled anguish of the woman suffering from hemorrhages when she touched the hem of his garment. At that moment, Jesus, surrounded by people on every side, embodies all the beauty of Aaron vested in priestly raiment, with the oil running down upon his robes. It is a hidden beauty, one which shines forth only for those faith-filled eyes of the woman troubled with an issue of blood. But not even the disciples – future priests – see or understand: on the “existential outskirts”, they see only what is on the surface: the crowd pressing in on Jesus from all sides (cf. Lk 8:42). The Lord, on the other hand, feels the power of the divine anointing which runs down to the edge of his cloak.
We need to “go out,” then, in order to experience our own anointing, its power and its redemptive efficacy: to the “outskirts” where there is suffering, bloodshed, blindness that longs for sight, and prisoners in thrall to many evil masters. It is not in soul-searching or constant introspection that we encounter the Lord: self-help courses can be useful in life, but to live by going from one course to another, from one method to another, leads us to become pelagians and to minimize the power of grace, which comes alive and flourishes to the extent that we, in faith, go out and give ourselves and the Gospel to others, giving what little ointment we have to those who have nothing, nothing at all.
A priest who seldom goes out of himself, who anoints little – I won’t say “not at all” because, thank God, our people take our oil from us anyway – misses out on the best of our people, on what can stir the depths of his priestly heart. Those who do not go out of themselves, instead of being mediators, gradually become intermediaries, managers. We know the difference: the intermediary, the manager, “has already received his reward”, and since he doesn’t put his own skin and his own heart on the line, he never hears a warm, heartfelt word of thanks. This is precisely the reason why some priests grow dissatisfied, become sad priests, lose heart and become in some sense collectors of antiques or novelties – instead of being shepherds living with “the smell of the sheep”, shepherds in the midst of their flock, fishers of men. True enough, the so-called crisis of priestly identity threatens us all and adds to the broader cultural crisis; but if we can resist its onslaught, we will be able to put out in the name of the Lord and cast our nets. It is not a bad thing that reality itself forces us to “put out into the deep”, where what we are by grace is clearly seen as pure grace, out into the deep of the contemporary world, where the only thing that counts is “unction” – not function – and the nets which overflow with fish are those cast solely in the name of the One in whom we have put our trust: Jesus.
Dear lay faithful, be close to your priests with affection and with your prayers, that they may always be shepherds according to God’s heart.
Dear priests, may God the Father renew in us the Spirit of holiness with whom we have been anointed. May he renew his Spirit in our hearts, that this anointing may spread to everyone, even to those “outskirts” where our faithful people most look for it and most appreciate it. May our people sense that we are the Lord’s disciples; may they feel that their names are written upon our priestly vestments and that we seek no other identity; and may they receive through our words and deeds the oil of gladness which Jesus, the Anointed One, came to bring us. Amen.
In the name of the Society of Jesus, I give thanks to God for the election of our new Pope, Cardinal Jorge Mario Bergoglio, S.J., which opens for the Church a path full of hope.
All of us Jesuits accompany with our prayers our brother and we thank him for his generosity in accepting the responsibility of guiding the Church at this crucial time. The name of "Francis" by which we shall now know him evokes for us the Holy Father's evangelical spirit of closeness to the poor, his identification with simple people, and his commitment to the renewal of the Church. From the very first moment in which he appeared before the people of God, he gave visible witness to his simplicity, his humility, his pastoral experience and his spiritual depth.
"The distinguishing mark of our Society is that it is . . . a companionship . . . bound to the Roman Pontiff by a special bond of love and service." (Complementary Norms, No. 2, § 2) Thus, we share the joy of the whole Church, and at the same time, wish to express our renewed availability to be sent into the vineyard of the Lord, according to the spirit of our special vow of obedience, that so distinctively unites us with the Holy Father (General Congregation 35, Decree 1, No. 17).
P. Adolfo Nicolás S.J. Superior General Rome, 14 March 2013
Filipinos seem to be fixated with the Christmas Season. The
Sinulog, Dinagyang, and the Ati-Atihan Festivals are celebrations of the Child
Jesus. These festivals do not just commemorate the beginnings of Christianity
in the Philippines; they also show the piety and devotion of the people to El
Nino Jesus --- and they are all celebrated after the end of Christmas.
We seem to have difficulties in letting the festive season
go. Is it symptomatic of our faith as Filipinos? Does the faith continue to
remain juvenile that it has not been significantly a “leaven of transformation”
(PCP II) to our daily lives? Are we missing out on the “mature” Jesus?
Today, we hear about the beginning of the ministry of Jesus
in the Gospel of Luke. History tells us that He is 30 years old. He returns to his
hometown, Nazareth, and begins preaching in the synagogue. He opens the scroll,
reads a passage from Isaiah about the Year of the Lord’s Favor and declares
that the passage is now fulfilled. Imagine yourself listening to a man you know
as a kid, now all grown-up and proclaiming that He is their long-awaited hope?
Most probably, you will be surprised, if not shocked.
A certain degree of shock and surprise is valuable in waking
us up. I believe the proper way to regard the devotion to the Child Jesus is to
value growth. Growing is both a business of the past, the future, but most
importantly, the present. We look back to commemorate, but we also look forward
to a new direction. The Child grew in God’s favor. Are we growing in the grace
of the Lord in our daily lives?
What happens then in the ordinary? We forge relationships.
We transform our connections so that the bonds in the relationship become
stronger. By doing so, they cease to be just a connection but a communion. We
move from mere acquaintance to intimacy.
In their book, Tender Fires, Fran Ferder and John Heagle,
said that there are three ways to understand the everyday experience of
closeness with our family, friends and significant other. First is
“Face-to-Face Intimacy” or our direct ways to communicate with another person.
The most obvious form, and often the most neglected, is talk. People in a
relationship do not necessarily talk about the deeper things. Spiritual
conversations, for example, do not necessarily land on the table as topics. If
we are able to share our aspirations and hope, why can’t we talk about our
faith, for without it, can we actually hope? Do we have someone whom we can sincerely
and honestly talk to or someone whom we are not afraid to reveal the deepest
recesses of our souls? St. Ignatius of Loyola said, “Love consists in the
communication of the lover to the beloved, and vice versa.” We become close to
someone because we can talk to them and at the same time, they also reciprocate
our disclosure.
Moreover, relationships often begin in an encounter, whether
in a class, workshop, or an event. Many friendships deepen because they studied
and worked together, or shared and loved a common interest. This is called,
side-by-side intimacy. Friends often enjoy eating or sharing a quiet moment
over coffee. Lovers go on a trip or cherish walking side-by-side while holding
hands. We experience deep connection when someone accompanies us and shares a
very comfortable emotional space with us.
Finally, we rely on our close relationships especially in
the darkest moments of our lives. We expect them to be with us no matter what
happens. We turn to them for support in the most difficult challenges in our
lives. They may be our family members, our best friends, or our significant
other. We want them to back us up when the going gets tough. In the Garden of
Gethsemane, while Jesus anguishes over his impending death, He desired that His
disciples would just “stay awake” even for just awhile. This is called,
back-to-back intimacy. Fran and John also called this faithfulness: all we need
to alleviate our suffering is to be with those whom we are faithful to, and
those who have been faithful to us.
Spiritual conversations, accompaniment and the support of
people in our life’s journey are excellent grounds for our faith to grow and
mature. The most effective way to appropriate the Gospel is by showing our love
in the most ordinary of days.
Video: This is the rehearsals of the Hark! Ateneo High School Christmas concert. Paskong Pinoy Medley was the finale of the concert held at the Church of the Gesu, 14 December 2012.
19 December
2012
Christmas Mass Homily
Ateneo de Manila High School
Note: This has been in given to the Ateneo High School community, but the points can speak for all. Use if it helps.
I have a
story: While Joseph and Mary were on their way to Bethlehem, an angel had a
secret meeting with the animals to choose which of them was to help the holy
family in the stable. Naturally, the lion volunteered first. “Only a king,”
said he, “is worth to serve the ruler of the world. I’ll tear to pieces anyone
who gets anywhere near the child.”
“You’re too
overpowering,” said the angel.
Next the sly
fox sidled up and with an innocent face remarked, “I’ll see to it that the Baby
Jesus gets the sweetest honey and I’ll steal a chicken each morning for His
mother to cook.”
“You’re too
devious,” the angel told him.
Next the
peacock came up and unfolded his marvelously-colored tail feathers. Said he,
“I’ll decorate that little barn better than Solomon did his temple.”
“You’re too
vain,” said the angel.
Many others
came up and offered their services. Not one was chosen. The angel took a final
look around and then saw a donkey and an ox out in the field working with a
farmer. The angel called them over, “What have you got to offer?” he asked the
pair.
“Nothing,”
said the donkey as he dropped down his long ears. “We just do what the farmer
commands us to do.” Then the ox added bashfully, “Well, maybe there is some
little thing we could do, like keep the flies away by swinging our tails.”
“Right on!”
said the angel. “You are the two we want.”
From then
on, the Christmas belen will not be complete without the ox and the donkey.
The story of
the ox and the donkey tells us what Christmas is all about. Looking closely at
the story of the Christmas will actually jolt us to what we have been used to
think and feel.
First, it is
a season of dreams. Of the impossible becoming possible. The angel Gabriel has
said this to Mary, “With God, nothing is impossible.” Christmas allows us to
dream with God, and God’s dream is far beyond what we think we are or can do.
In fact, the bible says that God’s ways are not our ways. What is impossible for
us to accomplish, may not be impossible for God. And therefore, Christmas
allows us to dream.
For St.
Ignatius of Loyola, dreams are not fantasies. The difference is in the
rootedness with reality. Fantasies are not rooted in what is. Dreams are deeply
rooted in who we are, what we are and what we can become based on the
individual graces or blessings that the Lord has given us. To fly like Superman
can be fantasy; but to fly using technology was once a dream that has turned
into reality. Through Fr. Jett Villarin, our president, the Ateneo de Manila
University has been dreaming with the 3 Strategic Thrusts of Mission and
Identity, Nation-building and Environment and Development. Under
Nation-building, Ateneo has explicitly said that we would like to “defeat
poverty.” To me, this is not a fantasy, but a dream. If we put together all our
efforts and as a community begin a lifestyle of honesty and generosity, we can
eradicate poverty.
The class
banners are an example of dreams. We dream of a character change. A metanoia or
a change of heart. The very virtues which we have drawn into a symbol should
remind us of what we want to become. The coat-of-arms of St. Ignatius with the
two wolves eating from the pot is a symbol of generosity. Until now, it reminds
us that if we want to be marked as Ateneans, one trait that we have to live by
is altruism, or an other-centered life.
What then
are your dreams? For yourself. For your family. For the country and the world.
At Christmas, we are reminded that the fulfillment of those dreams of yours is
not impossible despite the many barriers that seemingly bar the way. We dream
with the ancient Israelites who dreamt of freedom from their bondage in the
book of Isaiah. And it is also in the book of Isaiah that the Lord continued to
promise them a Messiah. And it is with Jesus that this promise has been
fulfilled. Dreams are God’s promises to us if we cooperate and participate with
His grace. Christmas gives us that very hope, that one day, we too will find
our dreams turn into a reality. And it may not be how we think it should be
accomplished, but eventually, how God would like it to be achieved.
Second,
Christmas is the season of surprises. Fr. Horacio de la Costa SJ wrote that
Christmas is a shocking event because it overturns all our expectations: A
mother who is a virgin; a child who is God; a King in a filthy stable and
wrapped in swaddling clothes. The Christmas story is an embodiment of a radical
shift, a shunning away of the usual, a trashing of what we are used to know, a
vigorous rocking of our boat, almost at the point of being thrown out at sea.
The story of
the ox and the donkey is not a paradigm shift. It is not a change of
perspective, but an overhaul change of how we do things so that what should not
change is highlighted and placed on the forefront of consciousness. The king of
animals is rejected; the intelligent and wily is faulty; the display of
affluence and wealth is unacceptable to serve the King of Kings. Totally not
the values of the world.
But it is
the simple, as the ox and donkey, that is the most appropriate character
for the King of the Universe.
Isn’t this the story of the Little Drummer Boy who had nothing except his
drums? And it is to him, that the Baby Jesus gave his most beautiful smile.
Third,
Christmas is a Season of Change. It is the story of God intervening into
history and changing its course. In the meditation of the Incarnation in the
Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, the retreatant is asked to imagine the
Holy Trinity looking at the world with love and concern. And speaking to each
other, the Holy Trinity decides that it is time to insert themselves in the
course of history, because at that point, humanity was on a self-destruction
spree. The announcement of the angel to a simple woman began God’s work to
change the world. That is why history, is HIS Story, Christ’s story. Christ
becomes the hinge between the BC (Before Christ) and the Anno Domini (In the
Year of our Lord). We are in the year of our Lord. Christmas then celebrates
this change while it also challenges us to change.
At
Christmas, it is profitable to remind ourselves of our “raison d’être” or the
rationale of our existence as the Ateneo High School. Our mission says
“inspired by the Ignatian tradition and guided by Ignatian pedagogy, we aim to
form young men into future leaders who will serve the Filipino society and
contribute to the global community.” In order to achieve this dream, then it is
imperative that we acquire the core values in the spirituality of St. Ignatius:
the value of openness to change, the virtue of flexibility and adaptability to
a discerned strategy. John P. Kotter in his Harvard Business Review article,
“What Leaders Really Do” distinguished between managing from leading. Managers
cope with complexity and bring order and predictability to a situation. But in
order to succeed, you need leadership, which is about learning to adapt with
rapid change. Thus, leadership will need setting a new direction and providing
new ways of doing things.
And this is
within the Christian tradition. Jesus teachings at his time was radically
shocking, but refreshing. It was shocking because he was a teacher, but taught “with
authority” not in the usual synagogues but in the field; He taught loving one’s
enemies; and He ate with the sinners and outcasts shocking the so-called
“rabbi’s” or “teachers” of His time. St. Ignatius and the Jesuits have always
been marked as radical and shocking. Mateo Ricci, discovering that the Chinese
did not listen to him when he wears is garb, discerned to change his dress into
a rich merchant’s clothing that earned him a place in the Emperor’s court and
gained for him the respect he needed to teach about Jesus. St. John de Brito, also threw away his
priestly garment, and wore the orange garb of a monk in India because people
listen to them better. In the Paraguay Reduction, the Jesuits used music to
evangelize, the same way St. Francis Xavier used music for catechism in India.
And finally, the Jesuits were known to have used theater for education. In all
of these, we got flak and worse, we were expelled. We’re used to it. Centuries
later, the Church affirmed these innovations in the radical council of Vatican
II. She called these innovations, “Inculturation.” Innovation is the mark of
a Jesuit school. Finding God is an active act: finding what is the most
effective means in the spread of the Gospel even to the point of “going where
there is greater need” – where most people fear to thread.
This is
precisely the point of Hark, the Ateneo High School Community Christmas Concert.
Hark means to listen. In the Christmas Season, to hearken is to listen to the
angels’ sing and move towards its direction.
How have we
responded to change during the school year? Are we stuck with the past? Are we
afraid to innovate? Or in any changes in school, have you ever contributed to
activities whether it is within your class or school-wide, or have you
complained but have never lifted a finger to help out? Remember a talent as
that of the ox and the donkey is all you need. It is as small as words of
encouragement. Notice that the only thing that should and will never change is
Jesus. He is the Big TRADITION. The rest are small traditions that can come and
go.
In Lent, you
will see Jesus reacting to those who can’t accept that new wine should be
placed in new wineskins. He said this verbatim, “Woe to you, Pharisees!” If
this shocks you, so much the better: remember, that those who eventually killed
Jesus were Pharisees.
So this
Christmas we celebrate the Season of Dreams, Of Shock and Surprise, and most
importantly, Of Change.
Have a meaningful Christmas and a discerning New Year!
Makakatakbo ka ba ng higit sa isang daang metro? Isang kilometro? E, kung limang-libong kilometro? Palagay ko marami tayong magsasabing, “Hindi ko kaya. Mahirap yan.” At itatanong natin sa ating sarili kung may kakayahan ba tayong gawin ito.
Dahil kakatapos pa lang ng Olympics 2012 sa London, pupulot tayo ng aral sa mga manlalaro tulad ni Meseret Defar ng Ethiopia na nanalo sa 5,000-meter race. Bago pa man tumakbo ang atleta, inalay ni Meseret ang gagawin niya sa Dios at inilabas niya ang larawan ng Madonna and Child nung nakarating siya sa finish line.
Ngunit iba ang takbo sa buhay. Madalas hindi natin nakikita ang kasukdul-sukdulan ng ating buhay. Kaya, para hindi mawalan ng loob, kailangan nating tuparin ang mga maliliit na hakbang hangga’t makarating tayo sa paroroonan. Sabi nga, hinay-hinay pero kanunay. Slowly but consistent. Manalangin tayong laging makita si Hesus na kasama sa mahabang takbo ng ating buhay.
