30 March 2008 2nd Sunday of Easter
Acts 2, 42-47; Peter 1, 3-9; John 20, 19-31
The word of the day is empathy. The Oxford English Dictionary defines it as “the ability to identify mentally with a person... and so understand his or her feelings.” This is the experience when we become aware of our unity with one another. It is empathy that builds community. You see, empathy is broader than sympathy or compassion. When we identify with persons who suffer, we are sympathetic or compassionate with them. But empathy covers not just those who are in pain, but those who are also happy --- we rejoice wholeheartedly with them. When we empathize we identify with everyone else in the full range of emotions: we cry when they weep, we struggle when they strive to be better, we jump for joy when they are happy. We share their feelings, because they, too, like us feel.
The first reading from the Acts of the Apostles tells us about the effect of the Resurrection on the disciples and the first Christians. They formed a sharing and worshipping community. They held everything in common, selling their possessions and dividing them equally among all according to their needs. And they met together at the temple area, and broke bread in their homes. At the root of this is their love of God and neighbor. They could empathize with those who are in need, and so they are able to understand and share their feelings. This led them to surrender their possessions and trust in Divine goodness.
Despite the growing individualism in the present world, there is a growing desire for unity and cooperation. Empathy that stems from our awareness of our solidarity with one another forms a sharing spirit. It eventually leads us to the common good. Practically, the common good means that what is good to ourselves is also good for the community. If I know what is best for me, I also know what is best for others.
The 2nd Sunday of Easter is Divine Mercy Sunday. We are, in many ways, celebrating the Mercy of God (not we asking for mercy!). The focus is this quality of Jesus which we should emulate. Mercy is possible because of empathy. Jesus promoted the spirit of sharing by forming small groups of believers who shared what they have. The devotion that they have, as illustrated by the first reading, springs from a mutual concern for the common good. In the 2nd reading, Peter reminds the community to be steadfast in their faith, amidst all sorts of trials. And what restores faith and joy in a community? It is mercy. When Jesus came to the room with the disciples, He greeted them with “Peace” --- saying that all is well, despite Peter’s denial, Thomas’ doubt, or the disciples abandoning Him. He has given His mercy. One can only be truly merciful if one can put oneself in another’s shoes.
Taking the Initiative
27 March 2008 Thursday within the Octave of Easter
Luke 24, 35-48 Taking the Initiative
We hear another Resurrection story: Jesus once again appears to His disciples and invites them to touch His wounds and asks them to give Him something to eat. By showing them His wounds and eating baked fish, He attests to them that He has indeed completely risen “flesh and bones” --- not like a ghost that do not possess a body.
There is always a tendency for us to see in order to believe. In matters of faith, we ask for concrete evidence as proof. The disciples were skeptical to the stories of the women at the tomb or the disciples from Emmaus. The disciples, however, were not at fault: we react the same way when someone tells us that they have seen the ghost of someone who is dead. And Jesus understands this human tendency. He therefore invites them to touch his wounds and furthermore, to eat. No ghost can consume food. He brings the disciples to believe by reminding them of what the Scriptures say about him. He knows about the inability of the disciples to understand, and so reaches out to them, coaxing them towards a fuller understanding.
Here again is a consistent action of God. It is God who reaches out to us. The Incarnation is God coming to become like us. God seeking us out. God taking the initiative to come closer to us. This is the starting point of Christianity. Pope John Paul II said that many religions, including Christianity, expressed the fact that humanity is the one who searches for God. But, the starting point of our Christian faith is the Incarnation, of God speaking to us first and showing the path on which we should thread. Jesus speaks of God searching us with the Parable of the Good Shepherd who seeks out the lost sheep. The same way with the Gospel today: the disciples who have been disoriented by the tragedy of the crucifixion has been found by Jesus who appears to them, talks to them in flesh and blood.
How do we experience God finding us? In the artistic world, the coming of an inspiration, has been attributed to someone (or something) outside of them. When an artist experiences dryness, no amount of coaxing will help him produce an inspiring work. When a person undergoes what St. John of the Cross calls, “the desert experience”, spiritual directors encourages the person to wait; wait till God comes; wait like someone wanting to be found.
How do we apply what we learned today about God in our lives? To take initiative in our lives is virtuous or consistent with the action of God. When we are hurt by a friend, we do have to wait until the friend asks pardon: we too can make the first move so that one gets reconciled right away. When we are at work, we do not wait for someone to tell us what to do, we find ways to see how we can contribute. We can make ourselves useful at any given time.
Luke 24, 35-48 Taking the Initiative
We hear another Resurrection story: Jesus once again appears to His disciples and invites them to touch His wounds and asks them to give Him something to eat. By showing them His wounds and eating baked fish, He attests to them that He has indeed completely risen “flesh and bones” --- not like a ghost that do not possess a body.
There is always a tendency for us to see in order to believe. In matters of faith, we ask for concrete evidence as proof. The disciples were skeptical to the stories of the women at the tomb or the disciples from Emmaus. The disciples, however, were not at fault: we react the same way when someone tells us that they have seen the ghost of someone who is dead. And Jesus understands this human tendency. He therefore invites them to touch his wounds and furthermore, to eat. No ghost can consume food. He brings the disciples to believe by reminding them of what the Scriptures say about him. He knows about the inability of the disciples to understand, and so reaches out to them, coaxing them towards a fuller understanding.
Here again is a consistent action of God. It is God who reaches out to us. The Incarnation is God coming to become like us. God seeking us out. God taking the initiative to come closer to us. This is the starting point of Christianity. Pope John Paul II said that many religions, including Christianity, expressed the fact that humanity is the one who searches for God. But, the starting point of our Christian faith is the Incarnation, of God speaking to us first and showing the path on which we should thread. Jesus speaks of God searching us with the Parable of the Good Shepherd who seeks out the lost sheep. The same way with the Gospel today: the disciples who have been disoriented by the tragedy of the crucifixion has been found by Jesus who appears to them, talks to them in flesh and blood.
How do we experience God finding us? In the artistic world, the coming of an inspiration, has been attributed to someone (or something) outside of them. When an artist experiences dryness, no amount of coaxing will help him produce an inspiring work. When a person undergoes what St. John of the Cross calls, “the desert experience”, spiritual directors encourages the person to wait; wait till God comes; wait like someone wanting to be found.
How do we apply what we learned today about God in our lives? To take initiative in our lives is virtuous or consistent with the action of God. When we are hurt by a friend, we do have to wait until the friend asks pardon: we too can make the first move so that one gets reconciled right away. When we are at work, we do not wait for someone to tell us what to do, we find ways to see how we can contribute. We can make ourselves useful at any given time.
The Process that Enables

25 March 2008 Wednesday in the Octave of Easter
Acts 3, 1-10; Luke 24, 13-35 The Process that Enables
It is striking that the readings today hinges on some incapacities. The Responsorial Psalm says it all: “Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.” There is an enabling or empowering process. First, we begin with a limitation. The man was crippled from birth. The disciples on the road to Emmaus did not recognize Jesus who joined them on the road. Their hearts were overwhelmed with disappointment and grief. The stories of the resurrection begins at predawn, just before sunrise. The women have not seen Jesus yet. And in the liturgy, the darkness before the blessing of the fire becomes a symbol of our incapacities: issues that cripple us, sins that imprison us.
In the Season of Lent, we have been asked to look at aspects in our lives that paralyzes us. The fear that comes from our traumas controls our decisions and actions. Our addictions whether chemical or psychological disable our minds that we do not have control over their irresistible power. We are constantly in paralysis. And like the man at the Beautiful Gate, we need to beg for help from someone else.
Second, the enabling link is an invitation to look. Peter and John looks intently on the cripple who begged for alms, and invites him to look intently on them. Jesus reminds the disciples to look closely on what the Scriptures said about Him; and in turn, the disciples invited Jesus to stay with them. The women at the tomb were invited to look intently at the empty place were the body of Jesus was, and to see what it all meant. And in the liturgy, the fire that becomes the only source of light attracts us to focus on it. In the end, our hearts that has been stuck seeks enlightenment and freedom.
To intently look at each other is a call to focus at the demand at hand. If one dreams to pass an exam despite the fear of failure, one has to pour attention on one’s books and notes. If we envision ourselves as successful people, then all our efforts should lead towards its fulfillment. And this means that we have to discern, amidst all the distractions around us. This means that we need discipline. Discipline that demands repetitious actions such as studies or practice. At prayer, the repetitious vocal prayers are meant to focus our minds on the prayer matter, just like Hindus repeating their ohms at the beginning of their meditations.
Finally, enabling and empowerment is a response to the invitation. The cripple paid Peter and John attention, and with trust reached out his hand and placed it on the hands of the disciples. His response to the grace of Christ gave him the power to move his knees and walk again. In the Gospel, the disciples requested Jesus to stay and join them at table. Because of this, they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread. Their love of Jesus moved the women to visit the tomb, and thus was given the grace to see Jesus alive firsthand. And in the liturgy, we begin to experience the significance and beauty of the Easter Vigil when we consciously and actively participate in the worship.
The same way with our lives. We are enabled and empowered when we participate with God’s grace. Our heart burns like fire; this enables us to seek what we desire. But its demand is to cooperate, to contribute to the talents and abilities that we all have. We develop if we “add” to our givens in life by constant practice, like musicians slowly becoming excellent, or by steady study, like students who graduate with honors. Then, like the cripple who finally walks through the Beautiful Gate, we soon discover the beauty of being free, like Someone who has been dead and is now alive.
*The UP Filipiniana Dance Group dancing Fr. Hontiveros' Inang Minamahal.
The Process that Enables

25 March 2008 Wednesday in the Octave of Easter
Acts 3, 1-10; Luke 24, 13-35 The Process that Enables
It is striking that the readings today hinges on some incapacities. The Responsorial Psalm says it all: “Rejoice, O hearts that seek the Lord.” There is an enabling or empowering process. First, we begin with a limitation. The man was crippled from birth. The disciples on the road to Emmaus did not recognize Jesus who joined them on the road. Their hearts were overwhelmed with disappointment and grief. The stories of the resurrection begins at predawn, just before sunrise. The women have not seen Jesus yet. And in the liturgy, the darkness before the blessing of the fire becomes a symbol of our incapacities: issues that cripple us, sins that imprison us.
In the Season of Lent, we have been asked to look at aspects in our lives that paralyzes us. The fear that comes from our traumas controls our decisions and actions. Our addictions whether chemical or psychological disable our minds that we do not have control over their irresistible power. We are constantly in paralysis. And like the man at the Beautiful Gate, we need to beg for help from someone else.
Second, the enabling link is an invitation to look. Peter and John looks intently on the cripple who begged for alms, and invites him to look intently on them. Jesus reminds the disciples to look closely on what the Scriptures said about Him; and in turn, the disciples invited Jesus to stay with them. The women at the tomb were invited to look intently at the empty place were the body of Jesus was, and to see what it all meant. And in the liturgy, the fire that becomes the only source of light attracts us to focus on it. In the end, our hearts that has been stuck seeks enlightenment and freedom.
To intently look at each other is a call to focus at the demand at hand. If one dreams to pass an exam despite the fear of failure, one has to pour attention on one’s books and notes. If we envision ourselves as successful people, then all our efforts should lead towards its fulfillment. And this means that we have to discern, amidst all the distractions around us. This means that we need discipline. Discipline that demands repetitious actions such as studies or practice. At prayer, the repetitious vocal prayers are meant to focus our minds on the prayer matter, just like Hindus repeating their ohms at the beginning of their meditations.
Finally, enabling and empowerment is a response to the invitation. The cripple paid Peter and John attention, and with trust reached out his hand and placed it on the hands of the disciples. His response to the grace of Christ gave him the power to move his knees and walk again. In the Gospel, the disciples requested Jesus to stay and join them at table. Because of this, they recognized Jesus in the breaking of the bread. Their love of Jesus moved the women to visit the tomb, and thus was given the grace to see Jesus alive firsthand. And in the liturgy, we begin to experience the significance and beauty of the Easter Vigil when we consciously and actively participate in the worship.
The same way with our lives. We are enabled and empowered when we participate with God’s grace. Our heart burns like fire; this enables us to seek what we desire. But its demand is to cooperate, to contribute to the talents and abilities that we all have. We develop if we “add” to our givens in life by constant practice, like musicians slowly becoming excellent, or by steady study, like students who graduate with honors. Then, like the cripple who finally walks through the Beautiful Gate, we soon discover the beauty of being free, like Someone who has been dead and is now alive.
*The UP Filipiniana Dance Group dancing Fr. Hontiveros' Inang Minamahal.
Our Tears
25 March 2008 Tuesday in the Octave of Easter
John 20, 11-18 Our Tears
John takes the stand today with one of his stories about the Resurrection. Mary Magdalene was weeping at the tomb. She saw two angels who asked her why she was crying. She said that some people has taken the body of Jesus somewhere else. Jesus appeared to her, but she thought He was the gardener, until Jesus called out her name. She was then instructed to tell the disciples what she saw.
The story mirrors a basic human experience: our tears prevent us from seeing the Lord. When we are in deep sorrow, we feel that nothing has meaning. The beauty of our world means nothing. When we grieve, we sense that nothing more is left. No person or thing can give us consolation. Our tears can cripple us from seeing hope.
Not that this experience is bad: often, this grieving stage is necessary. We have to go into the very depths and pains of these heartaches in order for us to be able to move on. I realized this later in my life. When I was younger, I thought that I have to fix any uncomfortable feeling right away. I used to justify loneliness so that I would not shed a lot of tears. Or, I would tell myself that there is always reason why I am experiencing this failure. When I entered the Jesuits, my novice master would always give this advice whenever I felt bad about a hurtful comment, a rejection, a failure, a bout of loneliness, or the death of my father: “Stay with the feeling!” Cry until all the tears have been shed. Shout until all the anger has been pacified. Just stay, acknowledge and taste the unpleasant feelings.
Unless we pass this stage, it would be difficult for us to make our experience of limitation into a moment of grace. Unless all the tears have been wiped from our eyes, we wouldn’t see clearly. In the stage of grief, it is not timely to give an advice or an explanation. In the moment of deep grief, what one needs is the comfort in an embrace, or perhaps, a gesture of sympathy. When wounds are still fresh, we do not need words. We need to give ourselves time.
We have seen many stories of people who lived through their tears, and finally has recognized Christ. We know of many men and women whose marriages failed, and tried to take care of their children and lived their lives as best as they could. Soon, they find strength and peace in their lives. We know of many people who have arisen from addictions that crippled them, and now have been freed from them. Many have even rediscovered God’s love and now views the world differently. These are the people who have seen the Lord. Once you meet them, you somehow wonder where they get their smiles. These are the people whose lives were broken, but soon found courage to pick up the pieces and gather themselves again. To me, this is what made Mary recognized Jesus: Jesus called out her name. A rediscovery of a God who knows and love us personally and uniquely gathers us and makes us whole. A new creation is a grace of Easter!
The Joy of the People of Easter

24 March 2008 Monday in the Octave of Easter
Acts 2, 14, 22-33; Matthew 28, 8-15 The Joy of the People of Easter
Everyone wants a certain drama in a story. The luminous Easter begins with a predawn darkness with women on their way to the tomb to mourn Jesus’ death. At the opened tomb, an angel announces to them that “Jesus has been raised from the dead” and they are to tell the disciples the good news. Matthew quickens the pace and tempo of the story by telling us that the women ran, fearful and overjoyed. The mingling of both fear and joy can be likened to the feelings of someone about to be married --- they are overwhelmed with excitement and awe because someone finally made a commitment to them; and at the same time, afraid because the new commitment will bring about changes in the future. It is a good fear, as we ‘fear the Lord’ --- our relationship with God can bring about changes in our lives. But we happily choose to take the risk. These two feelings are also experienced by people who finally decided to follow their vocations in life, despite the protests of their parents; or by young couples who have entered into a committed companionship; or by many students who have transferred from a course chosen by their parents to a field of study they actually want. Finally, while running to the disciples, Jesus met them on their way. Having seen Jesus, their joy became complete: they paid him homage and began to be living testimonies of the resurrection. In other words, Matthew conveys the feeling of overwhelming joy and happiness at the resurrection. This resurrection joy becomes a central emotion in the Christian faith.
In our lives today, the vocation of a Christian is to share this Easter joy! However, we do find barriers that prevent us from experiencing joy. Why is it difficult for us to share the joy of others? We know of instances when we find it hard to share the good fortune of others. Envy prevents us from sincerely celebrating with them. We also experience people who dampen our happy spirits. Take for example a personal experience. After the most beautiful Easter vigil liturgy in UP, I greeted someone who was disturbed by hosts flying to the ground because of the industrial fan. The concern was legitimate, but I felt that there was something wrong. After giving it a thought, I realized that the disposition was disturbing: when the whole faith community was happily greeting everyone a happy Easter, I felt that the person was not one with our joy! While we were all celebrating, the person took the pew and quietly prayed --- despite the 2.5 hours of liturgy! There was no comment about being moved by the liturgy, nor about the three adults who decided to become Catholics and had themselves baptized. Furthermore, that person dampened my Easter joy! The concern was legitimate but the timing was inappropriate.
But this is not just one person: it is a developing culture. We do have tendencies to be ‘KJ’ (kill-joy). We find ourselves better when we have noticed a single mistake when no one has noticed it. Many of us are not at ease with joy --- when it comes to faith, our comfort zone lies with suffering. It is a type of Christianity that is gloomy, colorless, cautious, rigid and rule-oriented. We associate overwhelming joy with secularity. We think that ‘appropriate behavior’ at mass is to be petrified or fossilized --- notice how many people don’t participate at mass despite the continued plea of Vatican II’s Sacrosanctum Concilium. These are the people who dampen the joy of worship. Almost killing the excitement of a community in a celebration. Worse, they have been the common reason why people join groups with animated worship eventually leaving the Catholic fold.
When we ourselves prevent people from experiencing joy, we unconsciously deny the effect of the Resurrection, making Easter irrelevant to our lives.
*The UP Filipiniana Dance Group at the Church of the Gesu, Ateneo de Manila University. Choreography is done by Van Manalo.
Transformation
23 March 2008 Easter Sunday
Acts 10, 34-43; Col 3, 1-4; 1 Cor 5, 6-8; John 20, 1-9
The Resurrection of Christ which we celebrate today is at the center of our faith. St. Paul said, “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain, and your faith is in vain” (1 Cor 15, 14). Early Christians used a formula to understand what had happened: “Christ died... He was buried... He was raised from the dead on the third day according to Scriptures, and that he appeared....” (1 Cor 15, 3-5). It is, however, the four Gospels that link us from the crucifixion to the resurrection. They tell us that the proof of Christ’s resurrection is the empty tomb. The Gospel is about Mary Magdalene discovering the empty tomb and thought that Jesus’ enemies took His body. Consequently, they found no sufficient explanation, for Jesus who died have appeared to them alive. Luke writes, “The Lord was raised indeed, and has appeared to Simon Peter” (Luke 24, 34). The empty tomb can be seen as a revelation that Jesus was no longer dead but alive. This is its basis: all four Gospels has an angel or angels appear to the disciples in the empty tomb. In the Old Testament, angels are manifestations of God’s presence in human form. They see God. Thus they know God’s plan and they translate it to us. In all Gospels, the angels have one message: “Jesus is no longer in the tomb because He has been raised!”
Easter then is an experience of transformation and change. From the moment news about the empty tomb reached them the disciples instinctively felt that something had happened. They were not yet clear about what was about to change, but they knew that the event would transform and change their life, their lifestyle, and their outlook on things. From being ordinary folks, they were about to go out of the ordinary, transcend the expectations of people and take on leadership. Peter, James and John cannot remain just fishermen. Matthew cannot return to becoming a tax collector. And with the coming of the Spirit in Pentecost their empowerment would be complete.
However, we all know that we have participated in many Easter celebrations year after year. We know that we will return to our ordinary lives, with our usual situation and our recurring problems. Nothing seems to have changed. In Jesus’ first miracle at Cana, the water still looks like water. The bread and the wine still looks like bread and wine at the Eucharist. The empty tomb remains empty.
It would take new eyes to see the difference. We have to taste the water, to taste the wine that was once water. We have to eat of the bread to feel that it is not bread anymore (we react when consecrated bread falls to the ground). We have to look at the tomb with new eyes to understand that Jesus resurrected from the dead. I guess, this is a requirement for transformation to occur in our lives: we have to taste life deeply so that we would discover what is new.
For change to happen, we need a reinterpretation of life and history. Take Anushka’s life statement: “I am an abandoned child, therefore I need your attention.” Then she would expect others to shower extra care on her especially her husband. Nasasaktan siya kung di siya napapansin. And she remains the same even at 48 years old! For change to happen, she has to break her life statement that blocks her transformation. She has to realize that she is not anymore a child and her life is now legitimate! I remember a public ad that goes like this: I am just a farmer! (Magsasaka lang po ako!) Don’t say “I am just a farmer.” Say, “I am a farmer!” (Magsasaka po!).
Let’s take another example: When our children begin to tell us: “Ma, I am not a child anymore. I am 18 years old,” it demands of parents to reinterpret their life and history viz their child. If parents insist on treating their 18-year old like a baby, then they refuse the grace of the resurrection, which is the call to acknowledge change and growth, not just with their child but with themselves.
Easter therefore gives us a joyful and hopeful outlook on life. It enables us to identify changes in our lives. It empowers us to break the blocks towards growth. We may walk with the same issues in our lives, but with the spirit of Easter, we get to face life with a happy disposition.
Acts 10, 34-43; Col 3, 1-4; 1 Cor 5, 6-8; John 20, 1-9
The Resurrection of Christ which we celebrate today is at the center of our faith. St. Paul said, “If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain, and your faith is in vain” (1 Cor 15, 14). Early Christians used a formula to understand what had happened: “Christ died... He was buried... He was raised from the dead on the third day according to Scriptures, and that he appeared....” (1 Cor 15, 3-5). It is, however, the four Gospels that link us from the crucifixion to the resurrection. They tell us that the proof of Christ’s resurrection is the empty tomb. The Gospel is about Mary Magdalene discovering the empty tomb and thought that Jesus’ enemies took His body. Consequently, they found no sufficient explanation, for Jesus who died have appeared to them alive. Luke writes, “The Lord was raised indeed, and has appeared to Simon Peter” (Luke 24, 34). The empty tomb can be seen as a revelation that Jesus was no longer dead but alive. This is its basis: all four Gospels has an angel or angels appear to the disciples in the empty tomb. In the Old Testament, angels are manifestations of God’s presence in human form. They see God. Thus they know God’s plan and they translate it to us. In all Gospels, the angels have one message: “Jesus is no longer in the tomb because He has been raised!”
Easter then is an experience of transformation and change. From the moment news about the empty tomb reached them the disciples instinctively felt that something had happened. They were not yet clear about what was about to change, but they knew that the event would transform and change their life, their lifestyle, and their outlook on things. From being ordinary folks, they were about to go out of the ordinary, transcend the expectations of people and take on leadership. Peter, James and John cannot remain just fishermen. Matthew cannot return to becoming a tax collector. And with the coming of the Spirit in Pentecost their empowerment would be complete.
However, we all know that we have participated in many Easter celebrations year after year. We know that we will return to our ordinary lives, with our usual situation and our recurring problems. Nothing seems to have changed. In Jesus’ first miracle at Cana, the water still looks like water. The bread and the wine still looks like bread and wine at the Eucharist. The empty tomb remains empty.
It would take new eyes to see the difference. We have to taste the water, to taste the wine that was once water. We have to eat of the bread to feel that it is not bread anymore (we react when consecrated bread falls to the ground). We have to look at the tomb with new eyes to understand that Jesus resurrected from the dead. I guess, this is a requirement for transformation to occur in our lives: we have to taste life deeply so that we would discover what is new.
For change to happen, we need a reinterpretation of life and history. Take Anushka’s life statement: “I am an abandoned child, therefore I need your attention.” Then she would expect others to shower extra care on her especially her husband. Nasasaktan siya kung di siya napapansin. And she remains the same even at 48 years old! For change to happen, she has to break her life statement that blocks her transformation. She has to realize that she is not anymore a child and her life is now legitimate! I remember a public ad that goes like this: I am just a farmer! (Magsasaka lang po ako!) Don’t say “I am just a farmer.” Say, “I am a farmer!” (Magsasaka po!).
Let’s take another example: When our children begin to tell us: “Ma, I am not a child anymore. I am 18 years old,” it demands of parents to reinterpret their life and history viz their child. If parents insist on treating their 18-year old like a baby, then they refuse the grace of the resurrection, which is the call to acknowledge change and growth, not just with their child but with themselves.
Easter therefore gives us a joyful and hopeful outlook on life. It enables us to identify changes in our lives. It empowers us to break the blocks towards growth. We may walk with the same issues in our lives, but with the spirit of Easter, we get to face life with a happy disposition.
As Jesus Ordered Them
19 March 2008. Holy Wednesday
Matthew 26, 14-25 As Jesus had Ordered Them
The Passover is a feast that lasted a week and a day. Jerusalem was jammed with pilgrims. Jerusalem’s population was around 30,000 but during the feast it was calculated to grow to 130,000. Reservations have to be made and so Jesus asked the disciples to reserve a room for them. Matthew emphasizes the obedience of the disciples by saying that they moved, “as Jesus had ordered them.” Their response to their Master’s voice was immediate. Their obedience and submission to their Master’s will was genuine.
Obedience has a corresponding freedom. Freedom from what? From our burdensome need to have our own way. From our obsession to demand from people to do the things we want to be done, do follow the process or way we want it done. We consume our energies to make sure that we get the result the way we want it. And if things doesn’t turn out our way, we brood about it. We fuss about it. We agonize thinking about it. Eventualy, venting our anger at those people who didn’t follow our directions --- even if our directions were fuzzy and unclear.
Obedience frees us from that burden. It asks us to drop it and forget about it. It makes us move on. Most of things in our life are not as important as we think they are. Honestly, no one dies if everything did not turn out the way we expected. Our life will not end if they happened or didn’t happen. Many fights among organizations for example happen because they can’t give in to another --- like traffic. Obedience enables us to see whether we are fighting a genuine issue or we are just plain stubborn. We realize that there are few genuine issues, and the rest are not as serious. Our life would not be burdensome when we know what to be serious about, and what could be taken lightly.
Let’s take a similar situation in contemporary life as the disciples. When your mom asked you to wash the dishes, and you complained and insisted why you should NOT wash the dishes, you have spent a lot of energy being stubborn, than when you just followed. Washing the dishes is not a national issue, neither is it a matter of life and death nor a conscience issue.
However, we do not obey for the sake of obedience. We obey because obedience protects a virtue: the virtue of respect and consideration of others. When we submit our will, we recognize that God speaks through other people as well. This is the essense of openness and dialogue: listening what other people say. They too can think about a better way to go about things. And when they know that their voices are heard, they are empowered. Obedience builds up people; it also builds a community.
Matthew 26, 14-25 As Jesus had Ordered Them
The Passover is a feast that lasted a week and a day. Jerusalem was jammed with pilgrims. Jerusalem’s population was around 30,000 but during the feast it was calculated to grow to 130,000. Reservations have to be made and so Jesus asked the disciples to reserve a room for them. Matthew emphasizes the obedience of the disciples by saying that they moved, “as Jesus had ordered them.” Their response to their Master’s voice was immediate. Their obedience and submission to their Master’s will was genuine.
Obedience has a corresponding freedom. Freedom from what? From our burdensome need to have our own way. From our obsession to demand from people to do the things we want to be done, do follow the process or way we want it done. We consume our energies to make sure that we get the result the way we want it. And if things doesn’t turn out our way, we brood about it. We fuss about it. We agonize thinking about it. Eventualy, venting our anger at those people who didn’t follow our directions --- even if our directions were fuzzy and unclear.
Obedience frees us from that burden. It asks us to drop it and forget about it. It makes us move on. Most of things in our life are not as important as we think they are. Honestly, no one dies if everything did not turn out the way we expected. Our life will not end if they happened or didn’t happen. Many fights among organizations for example happen because they can’t give in to another --- like traffic. Obedience enables us to see whether we are fighting a genuine issue or we are just plain stubborn. We realize that there are few genuine issues, and the rest are not as serious. Our life would not be burdensome when we know what to be serious about, and what could be taken lightly.
Let’s take a similar situation in contemporary life as the disciples. When your mom asked you to wash the dishes, and you complained and insisted why you should NOT wash the dishes, you have spent a lot of energy being stubborn, than when you just followed. Washing the dishes is not a national issue, neither is it a matter of life and death nor a conscience issue.
However, we do not obey for the sake of obedience. We obey because obedience protects a virtue: the virtue of respect and consideration of others. When we submit our will, we recognize that God speaks through other people as well. This is the essense of openness and dialogue: listening what other people say. They too can think about a better way to go about things. And when they know that their voices are heard, they are empowered. Obedience builds up people; it also builds a community.
Betrayals
18 March 2008 Holy Tuesday
John 13, 21-38 Betrayals
To form a barkada or a group of friends is necessary in a very huge university such as UP. We remember the first time we came to the university and losing our way. We didn’t know how to get to Palma Hall, or where it was. We thought SC was Student Council, until we discovered the Shopping Center where everyone photocopied materials for class. Being lost was unpleasant and what assured us were the friends who, like us, were also finding their way into university. We would soon share our life and fears with them.
The greatest fear therefore was to lose our friends. To feel being left behind. To be alone and lonely. To be unable to find someone to turn to. Our friends became our security and our home away from our family. We were afraid to be betrayed, disowned and abandoned by them.
But this was precisely what happened to Jesus. I believe that the passion of Jesus was not all about physical pain. When I was growing up, my parents would lead the Stations of the Cross every Good Friday, and I thought that the extreme physical torture of Jesus was all there was. Like Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ.
I think the depth of Christ’s wounds was inflicted by his closest friends. Moreover, I think that it was not Judas who pained him so much but Peter, his bestfriend. Maybe this conviction is about me, putting myself in the shoes of Christ. Judas betrayed Jesus. But he was not his closest friend. And at least, the kiss was an acknowledgement of Jesus’ existence. Peter however denied him thrice; as if Jesus was an unknown in his life. Peter who was his bestfried disowned him. You see, we are hurt by the people close to us; the closer they are to us, the more they are capable of inflicting deeper wounds.
The message of the Gospel today is therefore the opposite of the theme of betrayal, disownment or abandonement in a group of friends. We are confronted with our loyalty in the midst of the temptation to abandon our closest friends. When are we tempted to disown them? First, we are tempted when our reputation is at stake. If a friend has committed a crime or a scandal, we are tempted to dissociate with them for fear our name will also be tarnished. Second, peer pressure. If another set of barkada do not like your friend, they will eventually ask you to join them in their hate. Third, individuation. When your friend, in his or her process of growth, do not anymore share the same interest as you, or their personality became weird and eccentric, the tendency is to abandon ship.
Even with God. If God didn’t answer your prayers or your professor would deny His existence, would you stay? If your loveones meet a tragic accident, would you remain with God? If there is no rewards and punishment, no heaven and earth, would you still love God?
Perhaps we can ask a question for reflection: what would make you remain faithful?
John 13, 21-38 Betrayals
To form a barkada or a group of friends is necessary in a very huge university such as UP. We remember the first time we came to the university and losing our way. We didn’t know how to get to Palma Hall, or where it was. We thought SC was Student Council, until we discovered the Shopping Center where everyone photocopied materials for class. Being lost was unpleasant and what assured us were the friends who, like us, were also finding their way into university. We would soon share our life and fears with them.
The greatest fear therefore was to lose our friends. To feel being left behind. To be alone and lonely. To be unable to find someone to turn to. Our friends became our security and our home away from our family. We were afraid to be betrayed, disowned and abandoned by them.
But this was precisely what happened to Jesus. I believe that the passion of Jesus was not all about physical pain. When I was growing up, my parents would lead the Stations of the Cross every Good Friday, and I thought that the extreme physical torture of Jesus was all there was. Like Mel Gibson’s The Passion of the Christ.
I think the depth of Christ’s wounds was inflicted by his closest friends. Moreover, I think that it was not Judas who pained him so much but Peter, his bestfriend. Maybe this conviction is about me, putting myself in the shoes of Christ. Judas betrayed Jesus. But he was not his closest friend. And at least, the kiss was an acknowledgement of Jesus’ existence. Peter however denied him thrice; as if Jesus was an unknown in his life. Peter who was his bestfried disowned him. You see, we are hurt by the people close to us; the closer they are to us, the more they are capable of inflicting deeper wounds.
The message of the Gospel today is therefore the opposite of the theme of betrayal, disownment or abandonement in a group of friends. We are confronted with our loyalty in the midst of the temptation to abandon our closest friends. When are we tempted to disown them? First, we are tempted when our reputation is at stake. If a friend has committed a crime or a scandal, we are tempted to dissociate with them for fear our name will also be tarnished. Second, peer pressure. If another set of barkada do not like your friend, they will eventually ask you to join them in their hate. Third, individuation. When your friend, in his or her process of growth, do not anymore share the same interest as you, or their personality became weird and eccentric, the tendency is to abandon ship.
Even with God. If God didn’t answer your prayers or your professor would deny His existence, would you stay? If your loveones meet a tragic accident, would you remain with God? If there is no rewards and punishment, no heaven and earth, would you still love God?
Perhaps we can ask a question for reflection: what would make you remain faithful?
Palm Sunday: Finding the Lost
16 March 2008 Palm Sunday
Matthew 21, 1-11; Psalm 22, 8-24 Finding the Lost
I was worried about two things last night: the gala of Dakilang Pag-ibig, our tribute concert to Fr. Eduardo Hontiveros SJ and my homily for Palm Sunday. In the concert, Ernald Andal SJ sang Fr. Honti’s “Ang Mabuting Pastol” --- my favorite version among all the songs about the Good Shepherd. Then, it struck me: the Gospels I read in the season of Lent where about finding something or someone who was lost! The shepherd gathering into his arms the lost sheep; the father embracing his lost son, and the woman finding her lost coin. We have stories of people finding something very important to them: the blind having his sight back, the adulteress regaining her integrity, Zacchaeus discovering how much he owed those whom he cheated, the woman recovering her health, the mute being able to talk again, and the woman who wiped the feet of Jesus discovering forgiveness.
In Palm Sunday, we wave our branches to be blessed. We are re-enacting the Triumphal entry of Jesus in Jerusalem when the people used branches and their garments to welcome Jesus. It seems that the people have found who was lost to them. Like a prince who has gone to war and has returned to his home and his people, Jesus returns to his people and the Temple, the house of His father.
But in reality, we are the ones who are lost. And it is God who searches and finds us. Sinusundo na tayo. How do we experience this? If we look closely in our hearts, we will find that we have lost something or someone we treasure. We may have lost our self-respect, our patience, or our capacity to understand another. We may have lost our sense of well-being and hope or even our desire to pray. We may have lost a friend or a family member has passed away. Sometimes we cannot identify or put our finger into what we have lost. Something eats into our hearts that we cannot ignore or run away from it any longer. We become restless. We pace around or for some, stare into space. We feel that we are abandoned, as Psalm 22 says. We are not at home with ourselves. Nababagabag tayo pero hindi natin alam kung bakit. Tinatanong natin kung may direksyon pa ang ating buhay. Nawawala tayo sa ating sarili. And the gnawing feeling is God’s nagging us to return home.
But we cannot find it unless there is a hunger in our lives that would catapult us to return home seriously and search with our whole being. This is the reason for our fasting: we fast so that we may discover that hunger for God and for what we have lost. Maybe we can also find something in abstinence: we can avoid eating what we like or buying what we want, so that we may find the value of caring for the poor --- by feeding the hungry or the giving something to the poor, visiting institutions for the aged or the handicapped. Note that the Church gives an option: abstinence or works of mercy. Either way, we find the value of charity. Or we may indeed try to reflect on what we have lost, and try to regain it by restoring our broken relationships or finding extra time for prayer to restore our desire for God.
And perhaps, you may want to rediscover the beauty of your family whom you have neglected because of busyness in your studies by spending the Holy Week with them. This is my suggestion to students: when you all return home to the provinces for the holy week, look closely at your family and appreciate who they are. Pagmasdan mo sila nang mas malapitan. Come to think of it: when we return home, and see the faces of the members of your family who are overjoyed by your returning home, almost like waving handkerchieves like palm branches once your plane lands. Much like the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. On God’s part, it is Him who has lost us to our sinfulness, and now has found us. Allow God to find you.
Matthew 21, 1-11; Psalm 22, 8-24 Finding the Lost
I was worried about two things last night: the gala of Dakilang Pag-ibig, our tribute concert to Fr. Eduardo Hontiveros SJ and my homily for Palm Sunday. In the concert, Ernald Andal SJ sang Fr. Honti’s “Ang Mabuting Pastol” --- my favorite version among all the songs about the Good Shepherd. Then, it struck me: the Gospels I read in the season of Lent where about finding something or someone who was lost! The shepherd gathering into his arms the lost sheep; the father embracing his lost son, and the woman finding her lost coin. We have stories of people finding something very important to them: the blind having his sight back, the adulteress regaining her integrity, Zacchaeus discovering how much he owed those whom he cheated, the woman recovering her health, the mute being able to talk again, and the woman who wiped the feet of Jesus discovering forgiveness.
In Palm Sunday, we wave our branches to be blessed. We are re-enacting the Triumphal entry of Jesus in Jerusalem when the people used branches and their garments to welcome Jesus. It seems that the people have found who was lost to them. Like a prince who has gone to war and has returned to his home and his people, Jesus returns to his people and the Temple, the house of His father.
But in reality, we are the ones who are lost. And it is God who searches and finds us. Sinusundo na tayo. How do we experience this? If we look closely in our hearts, we will find that we have lost something or someone we treasure. We may have lost our self-respect, our patience, or our capacity to understand another. We may have lost our sense of well-being and hope or even our desire to pray. We may have lost a friend or a family member has passed away. Sometimes we cannot identify or put our finger into what we have lost. Something eats into our hearts that we cannot ignore or run away from it any longer. We become restless. We pace around or for some, stare into space. We feel that we are abandoned, as Psalm 22 says. We are not at home with ourselves. Nababagabag tayo pero hindi natin alam kung bakit. Tinatanong natin kung may direksyon pa ang ating buhay. Nawawala tayo sa ating sarili. And the gnawing feeling is God’s nagging us to return home.
But we cannot find it unless there is a hunger in our lives that would catapult us to return home seriously and search with our whole being. This is the reason for our fasting: we fast so that we may discover that hunger for God and for what we have lost. Maybe we can also find something in abstinence: we can avoid eating what we like or buying what we want, so that we may find the value of caring for the poor --- by feeding the hungry or the giving something to the poor, visiting institutions for the aged or the handicapped. Note that the Church gives an option: abstinence or works of mercy. Either way, we find the value of charity. Or we may indeed try to reflect on what we have lost, and try to regain it by restoring our broken relationships or finding extra time for prayer to restore our desire for God.
And perhaps, you may want to rediscover the beauty of your family whom you have neglected because of busyness in your studies by spending the Holy Week with them. This is my suggestion to students: when you all return home to the provinces for the holy week, look closely at your family and appreciate who they are. Pagmasdan mo sila nang mas malapitan. Come to think of it: when we return home, and see the faces of the members of your family who are overjoyed by your returning home, almost like waving handkerchieves like palm branches once your plane lands. Much like the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem. On God’s part, it is Him who has lost us to our sinfulness, and now has found us. Allow God to find you.
Never Afraid
12 March 2008 Wednesday of the 5th Week of Lent
Daniel 3, 14-20, 91-92, 95; John 8, 31-42 Never Afraid
The purpose of the first reading is to show that the God of Israel protects his people from harm so long as they remain faithful to him. King Nebuchadnezzar ordered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to be burned in a furnace, believed to be a sort of altar of holocaust in front of the golden statue. But neither the three Jewish men were harmed, and even saw a fourth person in the furnace which they believed to be an angel sent by Yahweh. The king then acknowledges a miracle; and he passed a law making it a legitimate religion of his realm, protected by civil authority. It should be noted that Nebuchadnezzar did not become a convert. Then, in the end, the three good men were triumphant in the end and were politically promoted.
“The world is a scary place,” many of my students would say. The Youth Survey of 2006 listed security as a primary concern of many of the young. They are afraid to be victims of violence or theft. Engaging in the world means to be vulnerable and exposed to different elements which may harm us. It is no wonder than many of us take precautionary measures to protect our things and ourselves from harm. But we all know that that is not enough: many victims have also been concious about security too.
However, we have experiences of being protected. Many of those who live close to a volcano affirms that somehow they feel that they are being protected from harm. In the event of an eruption, the men of Camalig, Albay would go around the town praying to our Ina (Mother) for protection. Many of us carry something that reminds us of God’s protective care: a rosary or a holding cross in our pockets, a novena to the Sacred Heart, a palm branch on the wall of our houses believed to keep a house a house from evil forces when prayed with an invocation to Sta. Barbara.
But to a person who do not believe, these are all silly and stupid. Faith is the background of all these practices. We have to be careful though: that we do not rely on objects who cannot protect us --- like the pagan golden statue of the Babylonians --- but on God whose power keep us from evil. This is what I believe to be the source of many people who have believed: they trust God so much, that they are always happy. They are never afraid.
Daniel 3, 14-20, 91-92, 95; John 8, 31-42 Never Afraid
The purpose of the first reading is to show that the God of Israel protects his people from harm so long as they remain faithful to him. King Nebuchadnezzar ordered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to be burned in a furnace, believed to be a sort of altar of holocaust in front of the golden statue. But neither the three Jewish men were harmed, and even saw a fourth person in the furnace which they believed to be an angel sent by Yahweh. The king then acknowledges a miracle; and he passed a law making it a legitimate religion of his realm, protected by civil authority. It should be noted that Nebuchadnezzar did not become a convert. Then, in the end, the three good men were triumphant in the end and were politically promoted.
“The world is a scary place,” many of my students would say. The Youth Survey of 2006 listed security as a primary concern of many of the young. They are afraid to be victims of violence or theft. Engaging in the world means to be vulnerable and exposed to different elements which may harm us. It is no wonder than many of us take precautionary measures to protect our things and ourselves from harm. But we all know that that is not enough: many victims have also been concious about security too.
However, we have experiences of being protected. Many of those who live close to a volcano affirms that somehow they feel that they are being protected from harm. In the event of an eruption, the men of Camalig, Albay would go around the town praying to our Ina (Mother) for protection. Many of us carry something that reminds us of God’s protective care: a rosary or a holding cross in our pockets, a novena to the Sacred Heart, a palm branch on the wall of our houses believed to keep a house a house from evil forces when prayed with an invocation to Sta. Barbara.
But to a person who do not believe, these are all silly and stupid. Faith is the background of all these practices. We have to be careful though: that we do not rely on objects who cannot protect us --- like the pagan golden statue of the Babylonians --- but on God whose power keep us from evil. This is what I believe to be the source of many people who have believed: they trust God so much, that they are always happy. They are never afraid.
The Challenge to Belief
11 March 2008 Tuesday of the 5th Week of Lent
Numbers 21, 4-9; John 8, 21-30
The Gospel tells us about believing in Jesus. There are two extreme life experiences when it is easy to believe. First, it is easy to believe when we are at the height in our lives. In our happiest and most inspiring moments, we thank the Lord. When people remember us in our birthdays and anniversaries; when we enter into a new relationship; when we win a contest, it is easy to remember God. When we get a very high mark in our exams, we shout with jubilation, “Thank you Lord” or for some, “Yes, there is God!” On the other hand, it is easy to believe in God when we are at our depressing moments. We run to the Lord when all else have failed. We come to Church when we are lonely or hurt. When attend masses when we lose someone. We remember God when we are helpless, like the waiting in the post-bar or board exam --- there is nothing else to turn to but God.
Believing becomes challenging and difficult not at those extreme experiences. Believing becomes difficult when in the middle of these two extremes. It is like the experience of the Israelites in the first reading. They are in a caravan trudging through the desert. The thrill of the escape from Egypt has worn off and all they can see is sand. They have forgotten where they have come from, and they have lost sight of where they are going, then, they began to complain. They began to doubt God. They began to blame Moses for bringing them in the desert. Trusting in God and having confidence in Him in their journey has become difficult to come by.
Often these are the experiences when one is in the 2nd and 3rd year in college: the excitement of passing UP has worn off, and graduation is far from being considered; when one has landed a job and is now just going through the regular times, and finding another job has not yet presented itself; when you are at the middle of your thesis and you do not know how it will end; trusting and having confidence in God and in oneself, often becomes difficult. At these times, you don’t feel excited; everything is “as usual”, “regular”, “fine”, “ganito pa rin”, “heto, what else is new”, “boring”, “walang kabuhay-buhay”, “colorless”, “loveless.” At these moments, we find ourselves complaining about this and that, and it is easy to see the faults of others, and then we, like the Israelites, blame God and others for our unexciting life.
But belief is formed in these ordinary days. It is when God works on us. In the Season of Lent, we are invited to see God, not just in our extreme moments of joy or depression, but in our ordinary, mundane and unexciting life!
Numbers 21, 4-9; John 8, 21-30
The Gospel tells us about believing in Jesus. There are two extreme life experiences when it is easy to believe. First, it is easy to believe when we are at the height in our lives. In our happiest and most inspiring moments, we thank the Lord. When people remember us in our birthdays and anniversaries; when we enter into a new relationship; when we win a contest, it is easy to remember God. When we get a very high mark in our exams, we shout with jubilation, “Thank you Lord” or for some, “Yes, there is God!” On the other hand, it is easy to believe in God when we are at our depressing moments. We run to the Lord when all else have failed. We come to Church when we are lonely or hurt. When attend masses when we lose someone. We remember God when we are helpless, like the waiting in the post-bar or board exam --- there is nothing else to turn to but God.
Believing becomes challenging and difficult not at those extreme experiences. Believing becomes difficult when in the middle of these two extremes. It is like the experience of the Israelites in the first reading. They are in a caravan trudging through the desert. The thrill of the escape from Egypt has worn off and all they can see is sand. They have forgotten where they have come from, and they have lost sight of where they are going, then, they began to complain. They began to doubt God. They began to blame Moses for bringing them in the desert. Trusting in God and having confidence in Him in their journey has become difficult to come by.
Often these are the experiences when one is in the 2nd and 3rd year in college: the excitement of passing UP has worn off, and graduation is far from being considered; when one has landed a job and is now just going through the regular times, and finding another job has not yet presented itself; when you are at the middle of your thesis and you do not know how it will end; trusting and having confidence in God and in oneself, often becomes difficult. At these times, you don’t feel excited; everything is “as usual”, “regular”, “fine”, “ganito pa rin”, “heto, what else is new”, “boring”, “walang kabuhay-buhay”, “colorless”, “loveless.” At these moments, we find ourselves complaining about this and that, and it is easy to see the faults of others, and then we, like the Israelites, blame God and others for our unexciting life.
But belief is formed in these ordinary days. It is when God works on us. In the Season of Lent, we are invited to see God, not just in our extreme moments of joy or depression, but in our ordinary, mundane and unexciting life!
Restoration
9 March 2008. 5th Sunday of Lent
Ezekiel 37:12-14; Psalm 130; Rom 8:8-11; John 11, 1-45
The context of the first reading from the prophet Ezekiel is the promise of restoration of the people of Israel who have been destroyed by the attacking army of Babylon. The vision of Ezekiel is the image of the dry bones scattered on the ground. The bleached bones represent Israel; and the spirit or ruah of God will give them life. God will initiate the restoration of Israel. The Gospel is the raising of Lazarus which further affirms that Jesus is the One who gives life to the dead. There is a difference between other episodes when Jesus restores to life a person who has just died, with Lazarus who was already in the tomb stinking --- long enough for the Rabbis to say that the soul has left the body. Again, it is Jesus who initiates Lazarus’ restoration to life.
To put the meaning of the readings today into our own context, let me begin with a question: Is there any special time in your life when you find yourself overwhelmed by a sense that there is something more than yourself involved, something more than you can account for, a time when something seems like a gift given beyond yourself? Take for example inspiration in a moment of creativity. Many musicians for example accredit their inspiration to something outside themselves. Without that inspiration --- for poets, their muse --- no amount of work seems to bear good music. I asked Mike Bulaong, one of our students, to arrange entrance and recessional hymns of Fr. Eduardo Hontiveros SJ for our upcoming concert, and he has created a quodlibet, two or more melodies interwoven together. How did he create that piece? He said, the inspiration just came and work flowed seamlessly. From where does inspiration come from? In a moment of utter dryness, it comes and it brings an artist to life.
We experience this also in negative situations when we face our limitations. But in this confrontation, we are taken beyond ourselves into an experience of God. Take for example loneliness. We know what it means to be lonely and finding ourselves alone --- even in the company of people, we can become lonely. This is an experience of dryness. And we have run away from loneliness for too long by masking them with gadgets and entertainment. Some have used people by expecting from them to meet our infinite need to be with someone forever --- I mean, really physically together, finding a moment when our love one is away very grueling. Lovers say a moment without their partners is like a century of dryness. We expect people to be like God for us who can be with us all the time, wherever we are.
How are we restored in an experience of loneliness? When loneliness is accepted and we don’t run away from it, and discover solitude. That we enjoy also our “me-time with God” --- when we enjoy a place where we encounter the mystery of ourselves and love ourselves as God loves us. When we are fine and at peace when we are in solitude, reading a book, praying in a quiet place, walking along the outline of the sunken garden without overly wanting to be with someone. When we are at peace with our time with God, then the dryness in loneliness is restored to a new life.
Ezekiel 37:12-14; Psalm 130; Rom 8:8-11; John 11, 1-45
The context of the first reading from the prophet Ezekiel is the promise of restoration of the people of Israel who have been destroyed by the attacking army of Babylon. The vision of Ezekiel is the image of the dry bones scattered on the ground. The bleached bones represent Israel; and the spirit or ruah of God will give them life. God will initiate the restoration of Israel. The Gospel is the raising of Lazarus which further affirms that Jesus is the One who gives life to the dead. There is a difference between other episodes when Jesus restores to life a person who has just died, with Lazarus who was already in the tomb stinking --- long enough for the Rabbis to say that the soul has left the body. Again, it is Jesus who initiates Lazarus’ restoration to life.
To put the meaning of the readings today into our own context, let me begin with a question: Is there any special time in your life when you find yourself overwhelmed by a sense that there is something more than yourself involved, something more than you can account for, a time when something seems like a gift given beyond yourself? Take for example inspiration in a moment of creativity. Many musicians for example accredit their inspiration to something outside themselves. Without that inspiration --- for poets, their muse --- no amount of work seems to bear good music. I asked Mike Bulaong, one of our students, to arrange entrance and recessional hymns of Fr. Eduardo Hontiveros SJ for our upcoming concert, and he has created a quodlibet, two or more melodies interwoven together. How did he create that piece? He said, the inspiration just came and work flowed seamlessly. From where does inspiration come from? In a moment of utter dryness, it comes and it brings an artist to life.
We experience this also in negative situations when we face our limitations. But in this confrontation, we are taken beyond ourselves into an experience of God. Take for example loneliness. We know what it means to be lonely and finding ourselves alone --- even in the company of people, we can become lonely. This is an experience of dryness. And we have run away from loneliness for too long by masking them with gadgets and entertainment. Some have used people by expecting from them to meet our infinite need to be with someone forever --- I mean, really physically together, finding a moment when our love one is away very grueling. Lovers say a moment without their partners is like a century of dryness. We expect people to be like God for us who can be with us all the time, wherever we are.
How are we restored in an experience of loneliness? When loneliness is accepted and we don’t run away from it, and discover solitude. That we enjoy also our “me-time with God” --- when we enjoy a place where we encounter the mystery of ourselves and love ourselves as God loves us. When we are fine and at peace when we are in solitude, reading a book, praying in a quiet place, walking along the outline of the sunken garden without overly wanting to be with someone. When we are at peace with our time with God, then the dryness in loneliness is restored to a new life.
Not Yet His Time
7 March 2008 First Friday
Wisdom 2, 12-22; Psalm 34; John 7, 1-2.10.25-30
The Gospel tells us that no one in Jerusalem laid hands on Jesus because His time has not yet come. A plot to kill Him was brewing among the Jerusalem authorities; there were schemes to catch Him in his speech because He claimed that God is His father and thus His equal. His appearance in Jerusalem began the murmurings about Him which resulted to a division of opinions; but the most critical is the accusation that Jesus was a fake, a deceiver who leads people astray --- a false prophet as described in Deuteronomy. But it was not yet His time.
When we look closely in our lives, there are processes that are ongoing. And in the middle of these processes we often find ourselves impatient. Take for example those who are in first year college: you are done with the euphoria of high school graduation, but you are far off from the end of college. Take another example of newly-married couples: they are done with excitement of the wedding, but they have not settled yet as a couple or they are beginning a family of their own. Take another example of those who have recently retired: they have left an active lifestyle and an unknown future. Remember Moses and the Israelites on their way to the Promise Land: they left Egypt and they were in the middle of nowhere, and the Promise Land was not even on the horizon. But it was in the middle of this sojourn, this journey, that their relationship with Yahweh --- despite its ups and downs --- were strengthened and forged.
However, the quality of our preparation determines the quality of our service in the future --- when our time has come, then we are to take the reins. To those who are days before graduation, are you ready to take the world? Are you fully equipped Ateneans, being sent to a world that has its challenges? Will you be able to face your detractors head long? Will you remain strong?
In the Season of Lent, we reflect on where we are in our journey to the Lord. Are we moving closer and closer into the heart of God? St. Ignatius gave us three questions to evaluate these personal journeys to the heart of Christ: What have I done for Christ? What am I doing for Christ? What ought I to do for Christ?
If we are able to reflect on these questions our preparation for Easter would not have been a failure.
Union of Minds and Hearts
5 March 2008 Wednesday of the 4th Week of Lent
Isaiah 49, 8-15; Psalm 145; John 5, 17-30
Let us reflect on the first verse of the Gospel of John. Jesus said, “My Father is at work until now, so I am at work.” It means that Jesus’ work is always in union with His Father. There is nothing that He does that is independent of His Father’s will. Even from childhood, He told Mary and Joseph in the Temple that He was doing the work of His Father in heaven. This, to me, is important.
There is a tendency for many of us to be highly individualistic. First, the present culture moves towards the satisfaction of each individual. It is an “I” culture. Anything that does not protect our individual selves, we consider irrelevant. If we do not like the food in our community, we would rather eat somewhere else. If some community activities do not fit our schedules, we would easily say, “I can’t” even if we know that we can actually move an appointment. If it is inconvenient to us, we would rather not go to a meeting.
Second, philosophers used the phrase the ‘exuberance of being’: meaning the discovery of our power and greatness. Given an opportunity to be leaders, we discover that we can actually lead. Given an opportunity to share our talents, we are surprised how people admire us. We can run a project all by oursleves; eventually liking working alone than with a group. When highly intelligent and talented individuals suddenly see what they can do, they would rather attribute these achievements and successes to ourselves. This is what we call, the deification of our activities. We find ourselves like God: we can let other people follow and do things according to our liking with just a word of command. Not that we consciously command them like a feudal lord, but people move at the sound of our voice because they find us credible. Eventually, we build our own kingdoms. We run our own foundations. We run our own world. We lord it over our personal apostolates.
When Jesus said, “I cannot do anything on my own; I do not seek my own will but the will of the one who sent me” --- He categorically said ‘no’ to individualism. St. Ignatius urges us to be one in hearts and in minds with God and with the Church. For Jesuits, it means that every single work that we do is part of the enterprise of the whole Society. This is the reason for obedience. Obedience is a discipline that keeps us aware that we are all working for the Kingdom of God and not our own.
The point of penance in the Season of Lent is not the sacrifice: but what leads us to a greater union with God. Concretely, when we do not like the food set on the table for our family or for the community, it is formative to stay and eat it --- enjoying the company of our family and friends instead. When family and community schedules get into the way of our personal appointments, and we try to move them. And then, we become flexible --- Ignatius himself finds flexibility a virtue. It is no wonder that working with the heart and mind of God means a certain sensibility: at the hint of the Superior, we follow.
The paradigm of relationships in the Society of Jesus as ‘friends in the Lord’ and of the whole of Christendom is friendship. But with real friends, we don’t need a hint, we just know. Come to think of it: when Jesus said that He was totally one with the Father, they were indeed one: as the Trinity is always united in love.
Isaiah 49, 8-15; Psalm 145; John 5, 17-30
Let us reflect on the first verse of the Gospel of John. Jesus said, “My Father is at work until now, so I am at work.” It means that Jesus’ work is always in union with His Father. There is nothing that He does that is independent of His Father’s will. Even from childhood, He told Mary and Joseph in the Temple that He was doing the work of His Father in heaven. This, to me, is important.
There is a tendency for many of us to be highly individualistic. First, the present culture moves towards the satisfaction of each individual. It is an “I” culture. Anything that does not protect our individual selves, we consider irrelevant. If we do not like the food in our community, we would rather eat somewhere else. If some community activities do not fit our schedules, we would easily say, “I can’t” even if we know that we can actually move an appointment. If it is inconvenient to us, we would rather not go to a meeting.
Second, philosophers used the phrase the ‘exuberance of being’: meaning the discovery of our power and greatness. Given an opportunity to be leaders, we discover that we can actually lead. Given an opportunity to share our talents, we are surprised how people admire us. We can run a project all by oursleves; eventually liking working alone than with a group. When highly intelligent and talented individuals suddenly see what they can do, they would rather attribute these achievements and successes to ourselves. This is what we call, the deification of our activities. We find ourselves like God: we can let other people follow and do things according to our liking with just a word of command. Not that we consciously command them like a feudal lord, but people move at the sound of our voice because they find us credible. Eventually, we build our own kingdoms. We run our own foundations. We run our own world. We lord it over our personal apostolates.
When Jesus said, “I cannot do anything on my own; I do not seek my own will but the will of the one who sent me” --- He categorically said ‘no’ to individualism. St. Ignatius urges us to be one in hearts and in minds with God and with the Church. For Jesuits, it means that every single work that we do is part of the enterprise of the whole Society. This is the reason for obedience. Obedience is a discipline that keeps us aware that we are all working for the Kingdom of God and not our own.
The point of penance in the Season of Lent is not the sacrifice: but what leads us to a greater union with God. Concretely, when we do not like the food set on the table for our family or for the community, it is formative to stay and eat it --- enjoying the company of our family and friends instead. When family and community schedules get into the way of our personal appointments, and we try to move them. And then, we become flexible --- Ignatius himself finds flexibility a virtue. It is no wonder that working with the heart and mind of God means a certain sensibility: at the hint of the Superior, we follow.
The paradigm of relationships in the Society of Jesus as ‘friends in the Lord’ and of the whole of Christendom is friendship. But with real friends, we don’t need a hint, we just know. Come to think of it: when Jesus said that He was totally one with the Father, they were indeed one: as the Trinity is always united in love.
The Real Power to Heal
4 March 2008 Tuesday of the 4th Week of Lent
Ezekiel 47, 1-9.12; Psalm 46; John 5, 1-3.5-16
There is a difference between the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. The Sea of Galilee is abundant with life while the Dead Sea is lifeless. There is a difference. While being nourished by many tributaries, the Sea of Galilee continues to give water through rivers and inlets that feeds the land that surrounds it. On the other hand, rivers also flows to the Dead Sea, but it keeps them to itself. Because of this, the Dead Sea is literally lifeless.
The prophet Ezekiel’s vision of the Stream from the Temple describes a river of fresh water that flows from the Temple out of the East side and slightly South through the Kidron Valley down to the Dead Sea. It turns the lifeless salt waters into a living sanctuary of fish and trees on its shores.
In the time of Jesus, archaeologists found a five-portico structure with two pools, sunk seven to eight meters into a ground that gathered rainwater. One of the pools ejected water several times a day during the rainy season which may probably caused by a pipe that moved the water from one pool to the other. They believed that it was an angel of God who stirred the water and caused healing to however reaches it on time. The cripple of the Temple never made it, but made it to Jesus who eventually healed him.
In the Season of Lent, we focus on Jesus who is the source of all powers to heal. There is a tendency for us to believe that many sacramentals which we use for healing such as holy water or aromatic oil cause healing. They are, as we call it, sacramentals: they make the presence of God felt and experienced; but the power of healing does not come from them, but from God. God is the source of the water that flows to the Dead Sea, and heals its selfishness. The power that healed the cripple comes from Jesus, and not from the waters of Bethesda.
Let take a second look at our wounds and our practices. It is always real that all our experiences of healing through water, oil, a soothing environment, a comforting word, or a warm embrace, comes ultimately from God.
We Suffer from Blindness Too
2 March 2008 4th Sunday of Lent
John 9, 1-38 The Man Born Blind
There are many beliefs about illnesses and disabilities during the time of Jesus which we still see today in a different form. The Jews believed that any disability is a punishment from God for the sin one committed in the past or for the sins of one’s ancestors. For people born with birth defects, they are definitely suffering from the sins of their parents. They based it on Exodus 34, 7: “God does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation.” His fate therefore is a curse. This is not uncommon today. We hear people say that they are suffering because of their parents’ sins. Well it is true that we can be victims of our parents’ irrational judgement as in the case of divorced couples or the corrupt decisions of past authorities, but they are not punishment from God: they are consequences of our wrong decisions or an unjust system.
But this is precisely a blindness: we fail to see that much of our suffering is caused by our inability to see and accept the truth. Nagbubulag-bulagan tayo. In psychology, there is what we call selective hearing; there is also a selective seeing: when we would rather see what we want to see and masks whatever we see with denials and with our frame of reference. Take for example our favorite person. Walang mali sa paborito. Hindi natin nakikita na ginagamit at inaabuso na tayo. (There is nothing wrong with our favorite people: we cannot see that we are already being abused.)
This is the same thing with our personal lives. There are many things we keep hidden. Our sins and our dark secrets are not just what we don’t like other people to see. What is deeper than them is the truth that we are responsible and culpable for them: that we willing chose and acted on them. So what we do is to blame other people than ourselves: we attribute it to the culture around us, to our psychological issues, to our ‘moment of weakness’ or to God (Why would God allow this things to happen to me?). Or in cases of death and tragedy: that these things happen and there is no answer to our whys? When we do fail to see the truth --- because they are too painful to bear --- we have a victim mentality. A victim mentality is one where it is always someone else’s fault for bad things happening to you. Or we expect that something bad will happen to us because ‘bad things always happen to me’. A victim always blames others for their cicumstances --- they don’t take responsibility for their action.
But healing begins when there is acceptance of the painful truth. Jesus invites us to always see and keep the truth. That is why we clamour for transparency in the Church and the government. We have to start taking responsibility for every action and circumstance in our life. We are all responsible, not just those who are corrupt: but we who tolerate the system by apathy and non-action. You see, when we seek in every possible way to take responsibility for our action, we would begin to see that this truth: although we cannot control our circumstances, we can always control our response. When we embrace this attitude and behavior towards life: we have been freed to choose how to respond. Those who are not controled by circumstance are those who are healed.
John 9, 1-38 The Man Born Blind
There are many beliefs about illnesses and disabilities during the time of Jesus which we still see today in a different form. The Jews believed that any disability is a punishment from God for the sin one committed in the past or for the sins of one’s ancestors. For people born with birth defects, they are definitely suffering from the sins of their parents. They based it on Exodus 34, 7: “God does not leave the guilty unpunished; he punishes the children and their children for the sin of the fathers to the third and fourth generation.” His fate therefore is a curse. This is not uncommon today. We hear people say that they are suffering because of their parents’ sins. Well it is true that we can be victims of our parents’ irrational judgement as in the case of divorced couples or the corrupt decisions of past authorities, but they are not punishment from God: they are consequences of our wrong decisions or an unjust system.
But this is precisely a blindness: we fail to see that much of our suffering is caused by our inability to see and accept the truth. Nagbubulag-bulagan tayo. In psychology, there is what we call selective hearing; there is also a selective seeing: when we would rather see what we want to see and masks whatever we see with denials and with our frame of reference. Take for example our favorite person. Walang mali sa paborito. Hindi natin nakikita na ginagamit at inaabuso na tayo. (There is nothing wrong with our favorite people: we cannot see that we are already being abused.)
This is the same thing with our personal lives. There are many things we keep hidden. Our sins and our dark secrets are not just what we don’t like other people to see. What is deeper than them is the truth that we are responsible and culpable for them: that we willing chose and acted on them. So what we do is to blame other people than ourselves: we attribute it to the culture around us, to our psychological issues, to our ‘moment of weakness’ or to God (Why would God allow this things to happen to me?). Or in cases of death and tragedy: that these things happen and there is no answer to our whys? When we do fail to see the truth --- because they are too painful to bear --- we have a victim mentality. A victim mentality is one where it is always someone else’s fault for bad things happening to you. Or we expect that something bad will happen to us because ‘bad things always happen to me’. A victim always blames others for their cicumstances --- they don’t take responsibility for their action.
But healing begins when there is acceptance of the painful truth. Jesus invites us to always see and keep the truth. That is why we clamour for transparency in the Church and the government. We have to start taking responsibility for every action and circumstance in our life. We are all responsible, not just those who are corrupt: but we who tolerate the system by apathy and non-action. You see, when we seek in every possible way to take responsibility for our action, we would begin to see that this truth: although we cannot control our circumstances, we can always control our response. When we embrace this attitude and behavior towards life: we have been freed to choose how to respond. Those who are not controled by circumstance are those who are healed.
Faithfulness to the Law
27 February 2008 Wednesday of he 3rd Week of Lent
Deuteronomy 4, 1,5-9 and Matthew 5, 17-19
For someone who remembers Jesus breaking the law of the Sabbath, one would find Jesus’ words now as confusing. He said, “I have come not to abolish the law but to fulfill. Not a smallest letter or the smallest part of a letter will pass from the law, until all things have taken place.” Is Jesus a turn-coat, a balimbing: on one occasion He breaks the law, and on another He pledges obedience and validity of the Torah. But even today, major Christian churches do not require absolute observance of all 613 precepts of the Old Testament law whether ethical or ceremonial, except the ethical commandments of the Decalogue and the love of God and neighbor. The basic law is the Torah, and the rest are interpretations of the Pharisees. Matthew suggests that Jesus did not break the Torah in principle, but the Pharisaic halaka. We are to be faithful to the Torah but we are directly asked to concentrate on the more important values. St. Paul would rather stick to ethics of values like faith, hope, love and walking in the Spirit, the Decalogue as applicable to Christians; but the ceremonial laws such as washings and purification rituals are not binding for Gentile Christians --- like the controversal circumscision. These values will remain permanent even after the physical universe lasts. What Jesus does not change therefore are universal values that remain permanently important in whatever time, place or circumstance. These are the values of love, justice, hope, faith.
The 2nd Plenary Council of the Philippines identified Filipino faith as largely ritualistic and at home with religious images, devotions and statues, novenas and processions, than an intimate and personal relationship with God. These practices like the rosary, processions, novenas, fiesta celebrations have helped keep the faith and developed the religious culture of the country. However, many Filipinos today are not able to give an account of what they believe: they just comply with the practices, but do not know the objective of the practice. When we are so focused on the external and ceremonial laws, and forget the universal values which the practice preserves, we become Pharisaic. And the rituals become shallow and meaningless.
Let us then reflect on our lives and evaluate on our ritualistic and Pharisaic tendencies.
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