26 February 2008 Tuesday of the 3rd Week of Lent
Daniel 3, 25, 34-43; Psalm 25; Matthew 18, 21-35
The historical background of the book of Daniel in the first reading was the time of the Seleucid ruler Antiochus IV Epiphanes who wanted to Hellenize the Jews of Palestine in 175-164 BC. He tried to force the Jews to abandon their ancient religion and to practice the common pagan worship of his kingdom. The result of this was the Maccabean revolt. The purpose of the book of Daniel was to encourage the Jews to remain faithful to their ancestral religion at the time when they were seduced by the worldly and pagan culture of Hellenism, and the threat of death and persecution if they didn’t abandon their faith. Moreover, the author of the book of Daniel offered us a viewpoint: God who is the master of history used the rise and fall of kingdoms, who ‘deposes kings and sets up kings’ (2, 21) to establish His eternal Kingdom.
The Season of Lent invites us to reflect on our faithfulness to God. In the midst of the allure of contemporary culture such as forms of entertainment and material wealth, we too are encouraged to keep the faith. However, we all know the difficulty. We can count the times we have been disloyal and unfaithful not just to God but to others. Our sinfulness are inumerable, that is why Jesus said that the number of times we have to forgive should also be infinite. Forgiveness is what can transform us: it would change our relationship with God and others, and it would have a subjective change in ourselves. Hannah Arendt said that it is forgiveness that heals us of the wounds of the past; so that we can move on and forge our future. Without forgiveness, we cannot set our lives into motion; we will be stuck in the past. The purpose of the Sacrament of Reconciliation is not the ‘feeling’ that we get when we are forgiven, but true metanoia or transformation.
The confession of sins in the Sacrament of Reconciliation is a grace from God; but it is also an event, something which we do. We just don’t go to confess; we also ask forgivenesss from our brothers and sisters. The last verse of the Gospel should give us a clue: The Father will not forgive us unless we forgive our brothers and sisters from our hearts. The Our Father affirms this: ‘and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us’ --- meaning, “forgive us our sins in as much as or in the degree we forgive those who sin against us.”
The difficulty of confession I guess is in our fear of vulnerability. We cannot show our failure and shortcomings to others. We think that we are the only ones who have sinned while the others are already advancing towards heaven. We think that when we worship, we worship as a community of saints, before we see that we are a community of sinners. Therefore, we tend to hide ourselves and live a life of deception and pretension. That is why James said, “confess your sins to one another” (James 5, 16) and Jesus gave the authority to receive the confession of sin to his followers: “Whose sins you forgive are forgiven them; whose sins you retain are retained” (John 20, 23). There is no other way, but to tell another our sins. That is why at the beginning of the mass we say, “I confess to Almighty God and to you my brothers and sisters….”
What then can confession make of us? First, faithfulness is truthfulness. Confessions removes our pretensions. Our warts and all are exposed to another. 1 John 1,19 tells us “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just.” We become honest to ourselves. When the words of absolution makes clear the forgiveness of our sins, the Holy Spirit seals it through the words of the priest. We need to hear that we have been forgiven! Like a closure in a relationship.
Second, we are given the opportunity to consider our sins. The prayers given after one confesses known as penance, is not our punishment or meant to earn forgiveness: three Our Fathers are never commensurate to the damage or hurt we have caused another by our sins! The prayers are supposed to help us pause, reflect and consider the seriousness of our sins, and then, when we see its evil, the accompanying revulsion and repugnance should lead us to holier living. The purpose of penance should help us move into a deeper sense of our sinfulness; so that when our hearts are grateful for being forgiven, we grab the opportunity to change.
Woman at the Well
24 February 2008 3rd Sunday of Lent
Exodus 17, 3-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5, 1-8; John 4, 5-42
Let us begin with a short background of the Gospel today. There were formerly 12 Hebrew tribes, corresponding to the 12 sons of Jacob, who occupied Canaan, the Promised Land. There were, however, other peoples occupying the territory such as the Canaanites and the Philistines. When the Philistines threatened to invade the tribes, the Hebrews clamored for unity under a king. The tribes of Israel and Judea were from the Southern Kingdom; while the 10 tribes were from the Northern Kingdom. Under the kings, the Southern and the Northern kingdom continued to be enemies. When the threat from the Philistines was controlled, they returned to their mutual hatred. In 721 BC, the Assyrians invaded the Northern Kingdom and its ten tribes and deported the Jewish elite, leaving only peasants and non-Jewish inhabitants. The elite trace their roots to the ten tribes, but they would never return.
In the time of Jesus, the Samaritans claimed to have descended from the original 10 tribes. and regarded the Jews of the South (Judea) as heretical because they regarded all the books of the Hebrew Scripture. The Samaritans on the other hand, regard only the Pentateuch (the 1st five books of the Old Testament). Moreover, the Samaritans regarded Mt. Gerazim in their area as God’s chosen place for sacrifice, and not the Temple in Jerusalem which Solomon built. The hatred was mutual. The Jews of the South would also regard the Samaritans as heretical calling them half-breeds (since they came from peasants and non-Jews who were left when the Jewish elite was deported). Thus, the Jews of the South would avoid the Samaritans and vice versa.
When Jesus gave the parable of the Good Samaritan and talked to the Samaritan woman at the well in today’s Gospel, He was making a strong statement. He said that the true worshippers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth; and therefore it is not anymore important whether one worships in Jerusalem or Mt. Gerazim. In other words, Jesus was setting a challenge to rethink our basic attitudes of exclusivity. He invites us to focus on what unites us than what divides us.
The season of Lent is a time to look closely on our attitudes of isolation: when we would rather be exclusive than inclusive. Contemporary culture is moving towards an I-culture or a growing individualism. The earphone is its symbol. Once they put on their earphones and turn on their iPods or MP3 players, they’re off to their own world. You have to shout to remind them that there are others with them.
Let’s take the family situation. The gap between parents and children are like the Jews and the Samaritans; as wide as their regard to the Temple of Jerusalem and Mt. Gerazim. How do loving and concerned parents interact with their children who question or ignore family values, excessively self-absorbed, and actively hostile towards some cherished beliefs. They are like the Hebrews in the first reading who complained to Moses and who questioned, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” The children today tell their parents using the same form: “Are you with me, Mom or are you against me?”
There is no norm, as parents know. But we can get lessons from Jesus as He talks to the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well. First, the parents continue to love and support their children despite their differences and tensions. Love does not withdraw at the first sign of disagreement. Good parents continue to love even as they continue to challenge; but listens also to their children.
Second, good parents effectively walk in tension between saying too much and saying too little, between challenging and nagging, between supportive and losing one’s connection. Thus, the key is to be non-combative and non-proselitizing. Never to see another as an enemy, like a child who is not bad but unfinished. Jesus accompanied the Samaritan woman towards realization, mutually challenged and comforted her, and finally, helping bring her towards fuller maturity by refusing to make moral compromises. The arena then is Jacob’s well: dialogue and communication, which all generations need and share: check the top products and services of our age.
Exodus 17, 3-7; Psalm 95; Romans 5, 1-8; John 4, 5-42
Let us begin with a short background of the Gospel today. There were formerly 12 Hebrew tribes, corresponding to the 12 sons of Jacob, who occupied Canaan, the Promised Land. There were, however, other peoples occupying the territory such as the Canaanites and the Philistines. When the Philistines threatened to invade the tribes, the Hebrews clamored for unity under a king. The tribes of Israel and Judea were from the Southern Kingdom; while the 10 tribes were from the Northern Kingdom. Under the kings, the Southern and the Northern kingdom continued to be enemies. When the threat from the Philistines was controlled, they returned to their mutual hatred. In 721 BC, the Assyrians invaded the Northern Kingdom and its ten tribes and deported the Jewish elite, leaving only peasants and non-Jewish inhabitants. The elite trace their roots to the ten tribes, but they would never return.
In the time of Jesus, the Samaritans claimed to have descended from the original 10 tribes. and regarded the Jews of the South (Judea) as heretical because they regarded all the books of the Hebrew Scripture. The Samaritans on the other hand, regard only the Pentateuch (the 1st five books of the Old Testament). Moreover, the Samaritans regarded Mt. Gerazim in their area as God’s chosen place for sacrifice, and not the Temple in Jerusalem which Solomon built. The hatred was mutual. The Jews of the South would also regard the Samaritans as heretical calling them half-breeds (since they came from peasants and non-Jews who were left when the Jewish elite was deported). Thus, the Jews of the South would avoid the Samaritans and vice versa.
When Jesus gave the parable of the Good Samaritan and talked to the Samaritan woman at the well in today’s Gospel, He was making a strong statement. He said that the true worshippers will worship the Father in Spirit and truth; and therefore it is not anymore important whether one worships in Jerusalem or Mt. Gerazim. In other words, Jesus was setting a challenge to rethink our basic attitudes of exclusivity. He invites us to focus on what unites us than what divides us.
The season of Lent is a time to look closely on our attitudes of isolation: when we would rather be exclusive than inclusive. Contemporary culture is moving towards an I-culture or a growing individualism. The earphone is its symbol. Once they put on their earphones and turn on their iPods or MP3 players, they’re off to their own world. You have to shout to remind them that there are others with them.
Let’s take the family situation. The gap between parents and children are like the Jews and the Samaritans; as wide as their regard to the Temple of Jerusalem and Mt. Gerazim. How do loving and concerned parents interact with their children who question or ignore family values, excessively self-absorbed, and actively hostile towards some cherished beliefs. They are like the Hebrews in the first reading who complained to Moses and who questioned, “Is the Lord in our midst or not?” The children today tell their parents using the same form: “Are you with me, Mom or are you against me?”
There is no norm, as parents know. But we can get lessons from Jesus as He talks to the Samaritan woman at Jacob’s well. First, the parents continue to love and support their children despite their differences and tensions. Love does not withdraw at the first sign of disagreement. Good parents continue to love even as they continue to challenge; but listens also to their children.
Second, good parents effectively walk in tension between saying too much and saying too little, between challenging and nagging, between supportive and losing one’s connection. Thus, the key is to be non-combative and non-proselitizing. Never to see another as an enemy, like a child who is not bad but unfinished. Jesus accompanied the Samaritan woman towards realization, mutually challenged and comforted her, and finally, helping bring her towards fuller maturity by refusing to make moral compromises. The arena then is Jacob’s well: dialogue and communication, which all generations need and share: check the top products and services of our age.
Chair of St Peter
22 February 2008 Feast of the Chair of St. Peter
1 Peter 5, 1-4; Psalm 23; Matthew 16, 13-19
The liturgical celebration of the Chair of St. Peter traces its origin in two great feasts of Christians found in the early martyriology: one on the 18th of January and the other in the 22nd of February. The latter prevailed in the Roman Catholic Calendar. Real wooden chairs having believed to be used by St. Peter himself on his first service in Rome was at the catacombs of Priscilla and another in the baptismal chapel of St. Peter’s Basilica.
In St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome, a wooden chair is enclosed in a gilt bronze casing designed and executed by Gian Lorenzo Bernini in 1647-1953. On the apse is inscribed Jesus’ words from Matthew’s Gospel today: “You are Peter and upon this Rock, I will build my Church and the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it. To you have I entrusted the keys of the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven” (Matthew 16, 18-19). These words establishes the supreme authority of the Bishop of Rome as both the successor of St. Peter and the Vicar of Christ. This belief is symbolized by the Chair of St. Peter or the Cathedra Petri in Latin. A cathedra is the chair of the bishop: thus a cathedral has on its altar the chair on which the bishop of the place sits.
The meaning of today’s celebration is our recognition of the Pope as the successor of Peter and the Vicar of Christ. To many different groups of Catholics whether they belong to the Eastern or Western church (Roman Catholics are Western), we are all united under the authority of the Pope.
By synecdoche (figure of speech: an object is used the signify the whole), the chair can also mean the authority of the bishop of the local diocese whose teaching is an extension of the authority of the Bishop of Rome.
And thus, to push this feast further towards relevance in our lives, we too are called towards leadership. We teach our families or a group or an organization. We head a corporation or we occupy a position in the government. How do we exercise our leadership? Are we leaders who use our power to manipulate and control others? Are we the type whose main concern is the preservation of our status more than our function? Or, are we leaders, patterned according to the disciples, who genuinely serve others and whose faith stand like rock?
Think about this. A janitor posed a question to Ted Failon in DZMM. He said that he is so poor that more than just once he considered stealing. What prevents him is the shame he will bring his family; his name will be tarnished forever. Stealing is something one keeps to himself. Why is it that people in our government steal publicly? And why would they steal when they are already filthy rich?
* Aris Tuazon teaching guitarists from Payatas and Sapang Palay in the Liturgical Music Workshop of the Jesuit Music Ministry. Aris is also a flutist and a drummer; a member of Musica Chiesa, an ensemble of musicians who play at the 11 AM Sunday Mass in UP.
Sinning like Albert Speer
21 February 2008 Thursday of the 2nd Week of Lent
Luke 16, 19-31 Omission
Albert Speer was a talented young man who became part of the entourage of Adolf Hitler. He was Hitler’s architect of the Third Reich with projects like the District Headquarters, the Chancellery and the Propaganda Ministry in Berlin and the Parade Grounds of Nuremberg. His famous work is the balcony on which Hitler presented himself to the crowds that assembled below it.
After his architectural stint, he was appointed Minister of Armaments and War Production when the former minister, Fritz Todt died in a place crash in 1942. As minister, he was able to multiply armament production four times and thus extended the war for more than two years despite Allied bombings.
But it was known that as a young man, Albert was apolitical --- and even claimed to continued to be so after his imprisonment. He was concerned more about his family and about his welfare. At the Nuremberg Trials, he admitted his complicity and expressed remorse. According to his memoirs, he adopted a ‘see no evil’ policy towards Nazi crimes. He learned about Auschwitz and purposely avoided the camp. He was aware of the atrocities of the Holocaust but claimed to having no direct involvement in them.
Our tendency is to think about Hitler when we sin. But we are more like Speer: he was not brutal or cruel, nor was he operating from a heart full of hate. Many of us are more or less kind and faithful in our duties; coming to church as often as we can. Our focus is our love for a family and our welfare; without much heart for the welfare of others or our country in general --- unless our immediate families are affected.
But Speers sin is not so much about what he did, but about what he did not do. Much like the rich man who feasted and ignored the needs of Lazarus.
We complain a lot about our government. But what we don’t realize is this: by taking everything sitting down enclosed in our own domestic world, we become party to the crime.
Practices not for Show
19 February 2008 Tuesday of the 2nd Week of Lent
Isaiah 1, 10, 16-20; Matthew 23, 1-12
In the Gospels today, Jesus warns us of doing things for show. We do have this interest for things external. Take for example fasting. Fasting developed a bad reputation in the Middle Ages. When there is a decline of the inward meaning of the practice, when people do not know what fasting is for, the tendency is to stress the only one thing left, the outward form. The ascetical practice of the Middle Ages that is devoid of spiritual meaning developed into just a law. We say, “We should fast! It is God’s command.” But we ask, why? And we don’t get an answer, except, “Do it, because it is a command.” The law gives security and a sense of manipulative power: when all follows, everything is fine.
And so Jesus points out today that we should look at the meaning of our external practices beyond the law. When we look into scripture, those who fasted were the stars of the Bible: Moses, David, Elijah, Esther, Daniel, Anna, Paul and Jesus. The great saints and Christians also fasted like Martin Luther, the Johns of different Christian sects: Wesley, Knox and Calvin. Why would these great people fast if there is no reason for the fast? Jesus points out: if you fast for show, for just following the law, people will be impressed by it, and that is the reward you get. However, if you fast, you fast privately, in your room. Why? Because Biblical fasting centers not only the physical benefits for it --- it is called a diet --- but it centers on spiritual purposes.
The first reading therefore teaches us the spiritual meaning of practices such as fasting praying and giving: it is supposed to help us return to God, to wash away our sins, to straighten our ways, and to help us grow spirituality. Jesus points out that we should look into our motives (Matthew 6, 16-18). It is easy to fast so that we can let God do what we want. We reinforce this when we tell people: Fast so that you will receive blessings from God. Or fast because it has some physical benefits, your prayer will be better, your will have spiritual insights. By having this motivation, we are user-friendly. We love the gifts, but not the Giver.
Fasting then should be centered on God: that we are enabled to fix our eyes on God. Thus, if we deprive ourselves of food, we realize that food does not sustain us, but God. “We are sustained by every Word that comes from the mouth of God,” Jesus said when the Devil tempted him. Remember Creation? Everything came into being by God’s very word. Therefore, when we fast, we are abstaining from food, but we are feasting on the word of God.
Therefore, Jesus tells us in the Gospel, that we should not look miserable when we fast. Because we are not miserable. We happily fast! We celebrate by fasting! We celebrate the Word of God. We celebrate God. So, when we fast, the proper attitude is joy because we are feeding from the hands of God!
Isaiah 1, 10, 16-20; Matthew 23, 1-12
In the Gospels today, Jesus warns us of doing things for show. We do have this interest for things external. Take for example fasting. Fasting developed a bad reputation in the Middle Ages. When there is a decline of the inward meaning of the practice, when people do not know what fasting is for, the tendency is to stress the only one thing left, the outward form. The ascetical practice of the Middle Ages that is devoid of spiritual meaning developed into just a law. We say, “We should fast! It is God’s command.” But we ask, why? And we don’t get an answer, except, “Do it, because it is a command.” The law gives security and a sense of manipulative power: when all follows, everything is fine.
And so Jesus points out today that we should look at the meaning of our external practices beyond the law. When we look into scripture, those who fasted were the stars of the Bible: Moses, David, Elijah, Esther, Daniel, Anna, Paul and Jesus. The great saints and Christians also fasted like Martin Luther, the Johns of different Christian sects: Wesley, Knox and Calvin. Why would these great people fast if there is no reason for the fast? Jesus points out: if you fast for show, for just following the law, people will be impressed by it, and that is the reward you get. However, if you fast, you fast privately, in your room. Why? Because Biblical fasting centers not only the physical benefits for it --- it is called a diet --- but it centers on spiritual purposes.
The first reading therefore teaches us the spiritual meaning of practices such as fasting praying and giving: it is supposed to help us return to God, to wash away our sins, to straighten our ways, and to help us grow spirituality. Jesus points out that we should look into our motives (Matthew 6, 16-18). It is easy to fast so that we can let God do what we want. We reinforce this when we tell people: Fast so that you will receive blessings from God. Or fast because it has some physical benefits, your prayer will be better, your will have spiritual insights. By having this motivation, we are user-friendly. We love the gifts, but not the Giver.
Fasting then should be centered on God: that we are enabled to fix our eyes on God. Thus, if we deprive ourselves of food, we realize that food does not sustain us, but God. “We are sustained by every Word that comes from the mouth of God,” Jesus said when the Devil tempted him. Remember Creation? Everything came into being by God’s very word. Therefore, when we fast, we are abstaining from food, but we are feasting on the word of God.
Therefore, Jesus tells us in the Gospel, that we should not look miserable when we fast. Because we are not miserable. We happily fast! We celebrate by fasting! We celebrate the Word of God. We celebrate God. So, when we fast, the proper attitude is joy because we are feeding from the hands of God!
Union and Love
17 February 2008 2nd Sunday of Lent
Union and Love: UP Valentines Mass
Note: I prepared two homilies. The previous post was published in Sambuhay; this post was meant for the UP Valentines Mass. But I decided to combine the two articles during the 11AM mass.
There is one habit that we have as a family. Everytime we call each other on the phone, we say “I love you” as parting words, even after saying goodbye. Many would find these words mushy or corny, but they are the same words we heard from the victims of 9/11. Aristotle said that the unexpected reveals the true person. Without the opportunity to think ahead, or without the occasion for another time like experiences of death, the surprise catches us off guard and our true instincts emerge. In the stories of 9/11, there are no words of hate or even of the question, “Do you love me?” Our instincts tell us that deep within us is our desire to be in contact with another, another who is significant and important in our lives. These are the persons one instinctively thinks about before dying. Our spirit tells us that we are incomplete unless it moves towards union with others.
St. Thomas Aquinas talked about union when He talked about charity or love. When we are in love, we are in union with God, neighbor and self. Union is experienced when we love. It is what many married or lovers feel. It is what friends feel. It is what parents and family members feel towards each other. In the last minute of those in 9/11, in the final months of terminally-ill patients and the final hours of imminent death, what they wanted to feel in the end is union. When I blessed the body of an 18-year old boy, the brother of the keyboardist in Payatas, all of his families and friends were all around him. The call to be one with another is instinctive, basic and existential.
When God said to Peter, James and John in the Transfiguration that they should listen to His beloved Son, it was a call to union with Jesus in heart, mind and soul. As Jesus redirects his heart to Jerusalem, we are also called to journey with him to the very source of much pain. This is the movement of love that has depth: when we are able to accompany another in their own Jerusalem, and after the peak of their pain, emerge victorious, stronger and closer. “May pinagsamahan, sa hirap at ginhawa,” (Together in good times and in bad). When we share the pain of another, our hearts merges with them. In other words, we assume suffering in our responsible concern to overcome other’s greater suffering; it is love electing or choosing suffering. It is the willingness to enter in the chaos of another. Our experience tells us that listening is the best way to respond to the suffering of our loved one. It is no surprise that God exhorts us to listen to Jesus --- to be one in the suffering and redemption of humanity.
It is therefore providential that today we celebrate our Valentines mass in the Season of Lent. The season invites us to search our very depths to face the demons that keep us from total union: the lies that destroys trust, the hurting words that wounds, the selfishness that prevents us from listening to other people’s needs. The season invites us to fast from the things we use to cover our vulnerability; so that we get to see who and what we truly are.
But it is in vulnerability --- when there are no deceptions --- that makes union possible. William Placher says this about God’s suffering: “God suffers because God is vulnerable, and God is vulnerable because God loves --- and it is love, not suffering or vulnerability, that is finally the point.” It is no wonder that one crucial question that would finally make us evaluate the sincerity of someone who profess their love for us is, “Nandiyan ka ba nung kailangan kita?” (Where you there when I needed you the most?)
Union and Love: UP Valentines Mass
Note: I prepared two homilies. The previous post was published in Sambuhay; this post was meant for the UP Valentines Mass. But I decided to combine the two articles during the 11AM mass.
There is one habit that we have as a family. Everytime we call each other on the phone, we say “I love you” as parting words, even after saying goodbye. Many would find these words mushy or corny, but they are the same words we heard from the victims of 9/11. Aristotle said that the unexpected reveals the true person. Without the opportunity to think ahead, or without the occasion for another time like experiences of death, the surprise catches us off guard and our true instincts emerge. In the stories of 9/11, there are no words of hate or even of the question, “Do you love me?” Our instincts tell us that deep within us is our desire to be in contact with another, another who is significant and important in our lives. These are the persons one instinctively thinks about before dying. Our spirit tells us that we are incomplete unless it moves towards union with others.
St. Thomas Aquinas talked about union when He talked about charity or love. When we are in love, we are in union with God, neighbor and self. Union is experienced when we love. It is what many married or lovers feel. It is what friends feel. It is what parents and family members feel towards each other. In the last minute of those in 9/11, in the final months of terminally-ill patients and the final hours of imminent death, what they wanted to feel in the end is union. When I blessed the body of an 18-year old boy, the brother of the keyboardist in Payatas, all of his families and friends were all around him. The call to be one with another is instinctive, basic and existential.
When God said to Peter, James and John in the Transfiguration that they should listen to His beloved Son, it was a call to union with Jesus in heart, mind and soul. As Jesus redirects his heart to Jerusalem, we are also called to journey with him to the very source of much pain. This is the movement of love that has depth: when we are able to accompany another in their own Jerusalem, and after the peak of their pain, emerge victorious, stronger and closer. “May pinagsamahan, sa hirap at ginhawa,” (Together in good times and in bad). When we share the pain of another, our hearts merges with them. In other words, we assume suffering in our responsible concern to overcome other’s greater suffering; it is love electing or choosing suffering. It is the willingness to enter in the chaos of another. Our experience tells us that listening is the best way to respond to the suffering of our loved one. It is no surprise that God exhorts us to listen to Jesus --- to be one in the suffering and redemption of humanity.
It is therefore providential that today we celebrate our Valentines mass in the Season of Lent. The season invites us to search our very depths to face the demons that keep us from total union: the lies that destroys trust, the hurting words that wounds, the selfishness that prevents us from listening to other people’s needs. The season invites us to fast from the things we use to cover our vulnerability; so that we get to see who and what we truly are.
But it is in vulnerability --- when there are no deceptions --- that makes union possible. William Placher says this about God’s suffering: “God suffers because God is vulnerable, and God is vulnerable because God loves --- and it is love, not suffering or vulnerability, that is finally the point.” It is no wonder that one crucial question that would finally make us evaluate the sincerity of someone who profess their love for us is, “Nandiyan ka ba nung kailangan kita?” (Where you there when I needed you the most?)
Sharing the Transfiguration Experience
17 February 2008 2nd Sunday of Lent
Matthew 17, 1-9: The Transfiguration
In the Season of Lent, the Transfiguration prepares us for the glorious celebration of Easter. First, it is a moment of putting our hearts in order. We know that after the Transfiguration, Jesus sets His heart on course to Jerusalem. It would be His journey to the city where He would be betrayed by His closest friends, where He would suffer and eventually die. However, it would be a necessary step towards our salvation.
There are many moments when we share the experience of the Transfiguration; moments when we set our hearts on a specific course or decide on a particular life direction. The important aspect of this choice is the awareness of a necessary pain as an indispensable consequence. When we resolve to finally exercise for our health, we know we would have to endure muscle soreness. When we decide to leave our homes to pursue our studies in the city, we know we have to let go of the comfort of family and friends. When we make a commitment with someone, we know that we would be hurt by the very person to whom we have given our hearts. When we become determined to work abroad, we know that we will bear loneliness and homesickness. There are sufferings we have to undergo in the pursuit of our dreams.
The Transfiguration then reminds us that there are necessary pains involved in our choices. The image of these necessary sufferings is Jerusalem.
Second, the event of the Transfiguration is a moment of discernment. Jesus makes a resolution to follow the will of His Father no matter what it would cost Him. The ability to discern leads us to an understanding of the direction and path that one is to follow in the light of God’s purposes and intentions. And therefore the primary concern is doing God’s will; a response to the specific calling the Lord has for us. Walter Brueggemann said that this is what vocation means: it is to find “a purpose for being in the world that is related to God.”
For example, when we finally opt to become a doctor because we know that we would be happy taking care of the sick, then we have discerned our vocation and discovered a niche that would give us meaning in our lives. Thus we experience the Transfiguration at the moment of decision to absolutely follow this path. It reminds us to align our choices with the purposes of God and encourages us to pursue our vocation.
Finally, the event of the Transfiguration is a moment of identity. The disciples witnessed the divinity of Jesus; a confirmation of what they they have witnessed in the past: the healing of the sick, the forgiveness of sins, the return of sinners, the proclamation of the Good News to the poor. From the manner Jesus taught, the decisions He made, the principles He stuanchly stood His ground and the work He did, what the disciples believed all along were confirmed in the Transfiguration.
Who we are can be seen in the decisions we make in our lives. Our choices express our self-understanding. Our being children of God can be seen in our good and moral choices. When we remain honest in a culture of graft and corruption, we reflect God. When we become charitable in our words and actions in a culture of gossip, we mirror the Lord. We show to the world what we are made of when we choose: people describe us as kind-hearted because we have consistently opted to be gentle and sympathetic at a variety of chances and circumstances.
The Transfiguration reminds us about our identity as God’s children. We are challenged to look closely at our actions and evaluate whether what we do and say manifest the Father whom Jesus loved and obeyed in life, death and in His victory.
Matthew 17, 1-9: The Transfiguration
In the Season of Lent, the Transfiguration prepares us for the glorious celebration of Easter. First, it is a moment of putting our hearts in order. We know that after the Transfiguration, Jesus sets His heart on course to Jerusalem. It would be His journey to the city where He would be betrayed by His closest friends, where He would suffer and eventually die. However, it would be a necessary step towards our salvation.
There are many moments when we share the experience of the Transfiguration; moments when we set our hearts on a specific course or decide on a particular life direction. The important aspect of this choice is the awareness of a necessary pain as an indispensable consequence. When we resolve to finally exercise for our health, we know we would have to endure muscle soreness. When we decide to leave our homes to pursue our studies in the city, we know we have to let go of the comfort of family and friends. When we make a commitment with someone, we know that we would be hurt by the very person to whom we have given our hearts. When we become determined to work abroad, we know that we will bear loneliness and homesickness. There are sufferings we have to undergo in the pursuit of our dreams.
The Transfiguration then reminds us that there are necessary pains involved in our choices. The image of these necessary sufferings is Jerusalem.
Second, the event of the Transfiguration is a moment of discernment. Jesus makes a resolution to follow the will of His Father no matter what it would cost Him. The ability to discern leads us to an understanding of the direction and path that one is to follow in the light of God’s purposes and intentions. And therefore the primary concern is doing God’s will; a response to the specific calling the Lord has for us. Walter Brueggemann said that this is what vocation means: it is to find “a purpose for being in the world that is related to God.”
For example, when we finally opt to become a doctor because we know that we would be happy taking care of the sick, then we have discerned our vocation and discovered a niche that would give us meaning in our lives. Thus we experience the Transfiguration at the moment of decision to absolutely follow this path. It reminds us to align our choices with the purposes of God and encourages us to pursue our vocation.
Finally, the event of the Transfiguration is a moment of identity. The disciples witnessed the divinity of Jesus; a confirmation of what they they have witnessed in the past: the healing of the sick, the forgiveness of sins, the return of sinners, the proclamation of the Good News to the poor. From the manner Jesus taught, the decisions He made, the principles He stuanchly stood His ground and the work He did, what the disciples believed all along were confirmed in the Transfiguration.
Who we are can be seen in the decisions we make in our lives. Our choices express our self-understanding. Our being children of God can be seen in our good and moral choices. When we remain honest in a culture of graft and corruption, we reflect God. When we become charitable in our words and actions in a culture of gossip, we mirror the Lord. We show to the world what we are made of when we choose: people describe us as kind-hearted because we have consistently opted to be gentle and sympathetic at a variety of chances and circumstances.
The Transfiguration reminds us about our identity as God’s children. We are challenged to look closely at our actions and evaluate whether what we do and say manifest the Father whom Jesus loved and obeyed in life, death and in His victory.
Prayer and Valentines
14 February 2008 Thursday of the 1st Week of Lent
Esther C: 12, 14-16, 23-25; Psalm 138; Matthew 7, 7-12
The first reading is a dramatic story recounting the deliverance of the Jews from grave danger through a heroine. The palace of King Xerxes I (486-464 BC) in Susa is the setting of the book of Esther. After renouncing Queen Vashti, the King marries Esther, a Jewess, who was the most beautiful in the kingdom. Haman, the king’s vizier, designated a day of slaughter for all Jews in the empire. But Esther and Mordecai, her uncle, thwarted Haman’s plot. Haman was hanged in the gallows meant originally for Mordecai. The king then appointed Mordecai to be his vizier because he was able to uncover the plot against him. The reading today narrates Esther’s prayer to Yahweh before she talks to the king about the plot of Haman against her people. The book of Esther, and thus, her prayer, is built on the belief that those who trust in the Lord will be delivered in all their needs; that evildoers will perish in the trap they had set for the innocent. Here Esther prays on behalf of her people who are in danger: this type of prayer is called intercessory prayer.
When we pray on behalf of others, our work is an act of love. When we are truly concerned about other people’s needs and desperate situation, and we desire more than what we can give, we are drawn to pray to God who can give all that we ask for. Esther’s intercessory prayer is not the only one we see in Scripture. When Joshua was in battle with the Amalekites, Moses raised his hands on his behalf on a hill that overlooked the battleground. When Moses brought his hands to rest, Joshua began to be defeated. So Aaron and Hur who were with Moses would prop Moses hands up. Without Moses’ intercessory prayer, Joshua would have been defeated.
Jesus said that as He goes to His father, anything asked in His name will be granted. It means that He would go to His Father on our behalf. Jesus intercedes and mediates for us. St. Ambrose said, “Unless He intercedes, there is no intercourse with God either for us or for all the saints.” Thus, when we pray on behalf of other people’s needs, whether alone or with a community like the Prayers of the Faithful at mass, Jesus is the mediator or Intercessor. And in addition, when we pray on behalf of others, we perform our common priesthood. Psalm 138 assures us that on the day we would seek God’s help, He would answer our prayer. The Gospel today states that all we have to do is to persist in praying: to knock repeatedly on heaven’s door.
As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, it is appropriate to pray on behalf of the people we love. We can either accompany our roses and chocolates with intercessory prayers for them, or we can do away with the flowers by simply praying for their needs and their well-being. Come to think of it: we have always associated prayers with flowers and persistence: like the repeated Hail Marys in the rosary, they are regarded as roses to Our Mother.
But on the other hand, there is some practical value to prayer. It is cheap --- not like real roses. And it lasts --- not like the shop flowers that does not stay forever.
God Our Father
12 February 2008 Tuesday of the 1st Week of Lent
Isaiah 55, 10-11; Psalm 34; Matthew 6, 7-11
Can you imagine how you felt when you were given an opportunity to return home --- especially when you have a loving family? You would remember your mom’s (or your dad’s) home cooking. I would remember ice-cold lemonade or buko (young coconut) shake on hot summer days. I would smell the aroma of bicol express and pork adobo cooked with plenty of garlic on an open wood fire. My mother would tell me a short anecdote about childhood: my dad would return home from the farm with fruits for me. I remember, whether I had been a good or a bad boy, the fruits never stopped coming. When I was in high school, I would return home in the wee hours of the morning with my dad sleeping on the sofa waiting for me. The constancy of my parents’ love assured me during my growing up pains.
This is what God does to us: we experience him as father when he sends “the rains and the snow from heaven to water the earth and make it fruitful” for all of us, whether when we are good or bad; he sends the rain to both the wheat and the weeds. When we pray the Our Father, we call upon a Father who delights in pouring out His gifts and blessings on His children. He gives out of His generosity and love.
This is how know God: God loves us. When we say, ‘holy be your name’, the word, name, is not just the label we call one another, it means in Scripture the whole knowledge or character of the person we are calling. Therefore, we don’t approach God as someone we extract gifts from or be ‘user-friendly’. It is not the apt relationship to a loving father.
When we pray the Our Father to start our day, it awakens in us holy desires that would lead us towards becoming more like Christ. When we begin our day greeting the members of our family, “Good morning!” we renew our relationship with them, and provide us with the inspiration and motivation that gives meaning to the things that we do throughout the day.
When we pray the Our Father to end the day, it becomes the summary of everything we wish for throughout the day. When we close the day by greeting the members of our family, “Good night, Mom. Good night, Dad”, we tell them that they were the ones who inspired us throughout the day, and we wish them blissful sleep, assured of our love for them.
Thus the Our Father assures us of God’s constant love. And when we pray it, we assure God that we too will remain steadfast in His love.
Isaiah 55, 10-11; Psalm 34; Matthew 6, 7-11
Can you imagine how you felt when you were given an opportunity to return home --- especially when you have a loving family? You would remember your mom’s (or your dad’s) home cooking. I would remember ice-cold lemonade or buko (young coconut) shake on hot summer days. I would smell the aroma of bicol express and pork adobo cooked with plenty of garlic on an open wood fire. My mother would tell me a short anecdote about childhood: my dad would return home from the farm with fruits for me. I remember, whether I had been a good or a bad boy, the fruits never stopped coming. When I was in high school, I would return home in the wee hours of the morning with my dad sleeping on the sofa waiting for me. The constancy of my parents’ love assured me during my growing up pains.
This is what God does to us: we experience him as father when he sends “the rains and the snow from heaven to water the earth and make it fruitful” for all of us, whether when we are good or bad; he sends the rain to both the wheat and the weeds. When we pray the Our Father, we call upon a Father who delights in pouring out His gifts and blessings on His children. He gives out of His generosity and love.
This is how know God: God loves us. When we say, ‘holy be your name’, the word, name, is not just the label we call one another, it means in Scripture the whole knowledge or character of the person we are calling. Therefore, we don’t approach God as someone we extract gifts from or be ‘user-friendly’. It is not the apt relationship to a loving father.
When we pray the Our Father to start our day, it awakens in us holy desires that would lead us towards becoming more like Christ. When we begin our day greeting the members of our family, “Good morning!” we renew our relationship with them, and provide us with the inspiration and motivation that gives meaning to the things that we do throughout the day.
When we pray the Our Father to end the day, it becomes the summary of everything we wish for throughout the day. When we close the day by greeting the members of our family, “Good night, Mom. Good night, Dad”, we tell them that they were the ones who inspired us throughout the day, and we wish them blissful sleep, assured of our love for them.
Thus the Our Father assures us of God’s constant love. And when we pray it, we assure God that we too will remain steadfast in His love.
Grow Up!
10 February 2008 1st Week of Lent
Gen 2, 7-9; 3. 1-7; Rom 5, 12-19; Matthew 4, 1-11
Let us first put the readings into perspective. The vocation of a Christian is to grow. St. Paul would say “to advance on the way to the Lord”. I believe this is important to us today. We are constantly warned against sin, without urging us to grow. The positive call to grow is seen in Christian literature from the Gospels to the early Fathers, to the scholastic, charismatic and religious movements to contemporary writings. St. Thomas Aquinas said, “To stand on the way of the Lord is to move backwards.” In other words, the Lord who leads us on the way expects us to move, to follow: “Come, follow Me,” He said. Not to follow then, is to retreat. The second reading tells us that this call to grow is not a matter of choice: Christ gave us His grace in order for us to grow and to advance.
Thus, we either move forward or we slide backwards. St. Gregory the Great said, “Certainly, in this world, the human spirit is like a boat foolishly fighting against the river’s rush: one is never allowed to stay still, because unless one forges ahead, one will slide back downstream.” The readings today tell us that temptations then provide us an opportunity to move ahead; the prime purpose of temptations is not to bring us down, but help us mature. Temptations are not sins yet: they are amoral. How we respond to them will determine its morality.
Our emotions are unstable; our feelings come up and down. We have less control of our emotions, but we have control over our behavior. Even if we are angry, we can choose to act in a way that is consistent with our values. Even if we have an emotional storm going on, regardless with what we feel, we can choose to do our jobs well. This is called, constructive behavior: people who possess this characteristic is mature. As Adam and Eve (who symbolize all of humanity) in the first reading and Jesus in the Gospels today were tested: their challenge is in their choice of behavior.
Second, scripture writers say that the Temptation of Jesus is an inner struggle: it is not an outward experience. The proof is that there is no mountain that has a view of all the kingdoms of the earth. But it is true: if we look into our lives, the testing of our faith and our character is indeed an inner struggle.
But the call to grow is much more than just about sinfulness. It is also about the right thing to do; about following our conscience. If one is bullied in school or in the workplace, or we discover that the system in our organization and our country is not working anymore, we Filipinos think that it would be better just to keep quiet and let things pass --- or we cease to be nice. But in this situation, we are called to speak up, because it is the right thing to do. To do the right thing, despite criticisms from other people, makes us grow. When Rosa Parks didn’t give her seat to a white man in Montgomery in 1955 and Martin Luther King Jr gave a speech against racial discrimination and segregation, they both contributed to moral progress, even if it would cost Martin Luther King Jr his life: he was assissinated in 1968.
When the Church said that the peak of the liturgy is full and active participation in 1965, those who don’t sing at mass do not commit a sin, but they remain underdevelop and immature. It is like a mama’s boy at 45 years old: he may be kind and guileless, but his capacity for commitment and independence is infantile. So, grow up!
Take sides
7 February 2008 Thursday after Ash Wednesday
Deuteronomy 30, 15-20; Luke 9, 22-25
The Gospel and the first reading today challenge us to take sides, to choose: “Life and prosperity or death and doom.” We choose life if we obey God’s commandments. We choose death if we turn away our hearts and not listen to God, but instead, serve other gods.
God’s commandments preserve and promote life: it enjoins everyone to respect other people’s lives and property; it encourages us to love God and all He created like the environment that sustains earthly life. How? The Gospel tells us that promoting and preserving life constitutes selfless service --- whoever loses His life for My sake, will save it.
On the other hand, those who turn away their hearts from God destroys life and property. When we murder another or damage goods, we devastate or end life. Poverty is caused by graft, corruption and greed. The deprivation of another’s land is the result of greed. Thus, the Gospel says that whoever is concerned solely about his life or that of his family, and disregards the welfare of the greater society will not be able to preserve life.
Many of us here at mass will choose the obvious: everyone would choose what promotes life. It is quite simple. Everyone will choose Superman over Lex Luthor; Batman over the Joker; the Jedi Knights over Darth Vader; Judy Ann’s Isabella over Coney Reyes’ Viktoria.
But our daily choices will betray whose side we are actually on. Our choices individuate and define us. We will know who we are from the choices we made in the past.
When you are asked to choose between studying for the next day’s exam and going out with your barkada to celebrate a birthday; your choice will tell us whether you are in the league of Clark Kent who has to let go of Lana so that he will be able to do what he is meant to be.
When you are made to choose between a farmers’ rally and a ribbon-cutting for the opening of GMA’s exhibit; your choice will tell us whether you are a Jedi Knight, protector of peace and justice in the Galactic Republic or a member of the greedy Trade Federation who cut off trade routes to the small planet of Naboo.
When you come to mass complete with a rosary, a breviary and a pious look, but maltreats yout maid, then you know to whom you actually belong.
At Lent we are ask to make a choice. There is no way to choose two. Only one choice will define who we are.
Deuteronomy 30, 15-20; Luke 9, 22-25
The Gospel and the first reading today challenge us to take sides, to choose: “Life and prosperity or death and doom.” We choose life if we obey God’s commandments. We choose death if we turn away our hearts and not listen to God, but instead, serve other gods.
God’s commandments preserve and promote life: it enjoins everyone to respect other people’s lives and property; it encourages us to love God and all He created like the environment that sustains earthly life. How? The Gospel tells us that promoting and preserving life constitutes selfless service --- whoever loses His life for My sake, will save it.
On the other hand, those who turn away their hearts from God destroys life and property. When we murder another or damage goods, we devastate or end life. Poverty is caused by graft, corruption and greed. The deprivation of another’s land is the result of greed. Thus, the Gospel says that whoever is concerned solely about his life or that of his family, and disregards the welfare of the greater society will not be able to preserve life.
Many of us here at mass will choose the obvious: everyone would choose what promotes life. It is quite simple. Everyone will choose Superman over Lex Luthor; Batman over the Joker; the Jedi Knights over Darth Vader; Judy Ann’s Isabella over Coney Reyes’ Viktoria.
But our daily choices will betray whose side we are actually on. Our choices individuate and define us. We will know who we are from the choices we made in the past.
When you are asked to choose between studying for the next day’s exam and going out with your barkada to celebrate a birthday; your choice will tell us whether you are in the league of Clark Kent who has to let go of Lana so that he will be able to do what he is meant to be.
When you are made to choose between a farmers’ rally and a ribbon-cutting for the opening of GMA’s exhibit; your choice will tell us whether you are a Jedi Knight, protector of peace and justice in the Galactic Republic or a member of the greedy Trade Federation who cut off trade routes to the small planet of Naboo.
When you come to mass complete with a rosary, a breviary and a pious look, but maltreats yout maid, then you know to whom you actually belong.
At Lent we are ask to make a choice. There is no way to choose two. Only one choice will define who we are.
The Symbol of the Ash
6 February 2008 Ash Wednesday
Joel 2, 12-18; Psalm 51; 2 Cor 5, 20 – 6,2; Matthew 6, 1-6, 16-18
Before we begin our reflection, let me ask you: Why are you all here? You are more than 2,000 in this mass, many of you are patiently standing at the back. This is a full-packed overflowing congregation! Are you here for the ash? And why ash, and not garden soil? Will something happen to you if you are not given the cross on your forehead? Ash Wednesday is not a holiday of obligation, thus you are not required to come to this mass (But, December 8 is!). Let me explain to you the symbol of the ash so that we will be able to appreciate this practice.
Ash is a universal symbol of repentance and mourning. It is a natural product of destruction and death to something alive like a tree. When we are in mourning or in penitence, there is something that has been destroyed. Our hearts break when someone passed away or when we ended a friendship. Relationships are severed when we hurt family members or friends. Likewise, we break God’s heart when we sin. And thus, we use the ash to symbolize sorrow for this break-up.
The Gospel today emphasizes sincerity: we do not do things for show. As ash is placed on your forehead, what comes to your mind? We can think about our strained relationships and those we already cut our ties off. And then we reflect how we have contributed to its end. Likewise, we can think about how we have broken God’s heart by our refusal to love.
The ash is also a symbol of mortality. The minister of the ashes would say as they mark our foreheads, “Remember you came from dust and from dust you shall return.” When we are faced with our mortality, we realize many things. First, we accept the fact of our limitations. This leads us to need other people, making us humble and appreciative of other people’s gifts. Second, we accept the fact that we only have a number of years. And so we should make the most out of it. We spend quality time with people we love. We strive to excel in things we are passionate about. Or we mend broken relationships.
The ash used today is taken from the branches used in the Palm Sunday services. It reminds us to look at the whole picture: we already know that the final word is triumph in the resurrection and not suffering, defeat or death. Ash Wednesday begins the Season of Lent: 40 days dedicated for mourning and repentance: fasting, abstinence, acts of charity, and the Sacrament of Reconciliation. The whole 40 days are meant for prayer, reflection and preparation for Easter.
Because what is Easter? It is when broken relationships are restored; when sins are forgiven; and when we discover that love between two or more people, despite our limitations, is eternal. So we when we put on ash, we are saying that we are willing to reconcile with our neighbor and with God.
A Father's Love
5 February 2008 Tuesday of the 4th Week in Ordinary Time
2 Samuel 18, 9 – 19, 3; Psalm 86; Mark 5, 21-43 A Father’s love
Absalom was the third son of David by Maacha. He had a sister named Thamar. Both of them were beautiful children. However, Amnon, one of David’s son, molested Thamar. And Absalom killed him. David banished him from his court for five years. When Solomon was destined to succeed David, Absalom planned a rebellion. The priests and the Levites sided with the reigning monarch, while the masses were on the side of the handsome rebel. In the first reading today, Chusai, who was loyal to David, was asked to feign allegiance to Absalom and to misdirect him. Upon retreating, Absalom mounted a mule but caught his hair on the branches of an oak or terebinth tree. He was eventually killed by Joab, David’s general, using three pikes.
David, who ordered that his son be spared, was inconsolable when he learned about Absalom’s death. His sorrow is greatly expressed in Psalms 3 and 142. David’s anguish arises not only out of the tragedy of his son’s death, but his failure as a father. This anguish is expressed in his heartbreaking cry: “My son, Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son.”
Then Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom. Thus, the victory was turned into mourning.
Let us take two sides in our reflection. First, let us take the side of David. Many parents are struggling with rebelious children. To them, their children has withdrawn their respect because they do not obey them anymore. The rebellious child would like to do what he wants; and the parents do not have a hold on them. Parents are hurt in the process. Eventually, it would lead to disciplining the family rebel by cutting off their allowance, grounding them, or nagging them til they drop. These tactics, from my experience, aggravates matters. The more the child retaliates and plans rebellion like Absalom. Usually, the child has a good intention --- like Absalom’s love for Thamar. He has, however, erred in his killing of his half-brother Amnon. A large part therefore is in one’s parenting: explaining to children why a certain action is unacceptable. David wept because he has failed as a father.
On the other hand, the rebellious child is influenced by many unexpressed hurt feelings caused by their parents or siblings. Sibling rivalry and favoritism are special issues. Absalom was jealous of Solomon who will inherit the throne. Often rebeliousness is an attention-getting device.
One thing, however, is clear. Our parents are givens in life. We cannot opt for another parent. Whatever way they take care of us --- and some of their strategies we may not agree with --- is what they knew and learned from their childhood. Our parents’ love for us is beyond doubt. David genuinely was full of remorse for he loved Absalom, despite the hurt Absalom inflicted on him. Filipinos have a way of saying this: “Tatay mo pa rin siya; Anak mo pa rin siya.” (No matter what, they are still your father/child.”
The same thing with divine sorrow for our human sins which takes remedial action through Christ. Out of deep sorrow for our sins, God, our Father, sends his only son. Whatever happens, we remain his children. And whatever happens, God is always our Father. Psalm 103,13 says, “Like a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them.”
In the Gospel, Jairus was a synagogue official. But he would exhaust all means, including lowering down his pride, just to get his daughter healed. So too with God: if it needs the sacrifice of His only Son to redeem us --- his rebellious and unworthy children --- He would.
2 Samuel 18, 9 – 19, 3; Psalm 86; Mark 5, 21-43 A Father’s love
Absalom was the third son of David by Maacha. He had a sister named Thamar. Both of them were beautiful children. However, Amnon, one of David’s son, molested Thamar. And Absalom killed him. David banished him from his court for five years. When Solomon was destined to succeed David, Absalom planned a rebellion. The priests and the Levites sided with the reigning monarch, while the masses were on the side of the handsome rebel. In the first reading today, Chusai, who was loyal to David, was asked to feign allegiance to Absalom and to misdirect him. Upon retreating, Absalom mounted a mule but caught his hair on the branches of an oak or terebinth tree. He was eventually killed by Joab, David’s general, using three pikes.
David, who ordered that his son be spared, was inconsolable when he learned about Absalom’s death. His sorrow is greatly expressed in Psalms 3 and 142. David’s anguish arises not only out of the tragedy of his son’s death, but his failure as a father. This anguish is expressed in his heartbreaking cry: “My son, Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son.”
Then Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom. Thus, the victory was turned into mourning.
Let us take two sides in our reflection. First, let us take the side of David. Many parents are struggling with rebelious children. To them, their children has withdrawn their respect because they do not obey them anymore. The rebellious child would like to do what he wants; and the parents do not have a hold on them. Parents are hurt in the process. Eventually, it would lead to disciplining the family rebel by cutting off their allowance, grounding them, or nagging them til they drop. These tactics, from my experience, aggravates matters. The more the child retaliates and plans rebellion like Absalom. Usually, the child has a good intention --- like Absalom’s love for Thamar. He has, however, erred in his killing of his half-brother Amnon. A large part therefore is in one’s parenting: explaining to children why a certain action is unacceptable. David wept because he has failed as a father.
On the other hand, the rebellious child is influenced by many unexpressed hurt feelings caused by their parents or siblings. Sibling rivalry and favoritism are special issues. Absalom was jealous of Solomon who will inherit the throne. Often rebeliousness is an attention-getting device.
One thing, however, is clear. Our parents are givens in life. We cannot opt for another parent. Whatever way they take care of us --- and some of their strategies we may not agree with --- is what they knew and learned from their childhood. Our parents’ love for us is beyond doubt. David genuinely was full of remorse for he loved Absalom, despite the hurt Absalom inflicted on him. Filipinos have a way of saying this: “Tatay mo pa rin siya; Anak mo pa rin siya.” (No matter what, they are still your father/child.”
The same thing with divine sorrow for our human sins which takes remedial action through Christ. Out of deep sorrow for our sins, God, our Father, sends his only son. Whatever happens, we remain his children. And whatever happens, God is always our Father. Psalm 103,13 says, “Like a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them.”
In the Gospel, Jairus was a synagogue official. But he would exhaust all means, including lowering down his pride, just to get his daughter healed. So too with God: if it needs the sacrifice of His only Son to redeem us --- his rebellious and unworthy children --- He would.
A Father's Love
5 February 2008 Tuesday of the 4th Week in Ordinary Time
2 Samuel 18, 9 – 19, 3; Psalm 86; Mark 5, 21-43 A Father’s love
Absalom was the third son of David by Maacha. He had a sister named Thamar. Both of them were beautiful children. However, Amnon, one of David’s son, molested Thamar. And Absalom killed him. David banished him from his court for five years. When Solomon was destined to succeed David, Absalom planned a rebellion. The priests and the Levites sided with the reigning monarch, while the masses were on the side of the handsome rebel. In the first reading today, Chusai, who was loyal to David, was asked to feign allegiance to Absalom and to misdirect him. Upon retreating, Absalom mounted a mule but caught his hair on the branches of an oak or terebinth tree. He was eventually killed by Joab, David’s general, using three pikes.
David, who ordered that his son be spared, was inconsolable when he learned about Absalom’s death. His sorrow is greatly expressed in Psalms 3 and 142. David’s anguish arises not only out of the tragedy of his son’s death, but his failure as a father. This anguish is expressed in his heartbreaking cry: “My son, Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son.”
Then Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom. Thus, the victory was turned into mourning.
Let us take two sides in our reflection. First, let us take the side of David. Many parents are struggling with rebelious children. To them, their children has withdrawn their respect because they do not obey them anymore. The rebellious child would like to do what he wants; and the parents do not have a hold on them. Parents are hurt in the process. Eventually, it would lead to disciplining the family rebel by cutting off their allowance, grounding them, or nagging them til they drop. These tactics, from my experience, aggravates matters. The more the child retaliates and plans rebellion like Absalom. Usually, the child has a good intention --- like Absalom’s love for Thamar. He has, however, erred in his killing of his half-brother Amnon. A large part therefore is in one’s parenting: explaining to children why a certain action is unacceptable. David wept because he has failed as a father.
On the other hand, the rebellious child is influenced by many unexpressed hurt feelings caused by their parents or siblings. Sibling rivalry and favoritism are special issues. Absalom was jealous of Solomon who will inherit the throne. Often rebeliousness is an attention-getting device.
One thing, however, is clear. Our parents are givens in life. We cannot opt for another parent. Whatever way they take care of us --- and some of their strategies we may not agree with --- is what they knew and learned from their childhood. Our parents’ love for us is beyond doubt. David genuinely was full of remorse for he loved Absalom, despite the hurt Absalom inflicted on him. Filipinos have a way of saying this: “Tatay mo pa rin siya; Anak mo pa rin siya.” (No matter what, they are still your father/child.”
The same thing with divine sorrow for our human sins which takes remedial action through Christ. Out of deep sorrow for our sins, God, our Father, sends his only son. Whatever happens, we remain his children. And whatever happens, God is always our Father. Psalm 103,13 says, “Like a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them.”
In the Gospel, Jairus was a synagogue official. But he would exhaust all means, including lowering down his pride, just to get his daughter healed. So too with God: if it needs the sacrifice of His only Son to redeem us --- his rebellious and unworthy children --- He would.
2 Samuel 18, 9 – 19, 3; Psalm 86; Mark 5, 21-43 A Father’s love
Absalom was the third son of David by Maacha. He had a sister named Thamar. Both of them were beautiful children. However, Amnon, one of David’s son, molested Thamar. And Absalom killed him. David banished him from his court for five years. When Solomon was destined to succeed David, Absalom planned a rebellion. The priests and the Levites sided with the reigning monarch, while the masses were on the side of the handsome rebel. In the first reading today, Chusai, who was loyal to David, was asked to feign allegiance to Absalom and to misdirect him. Upon retreating, Absalom mounted a mule but caught his hair on the branches of an oak or terebinth tree. He was eventually killed by Joab, David’s general, using three pikes.
David, who ordered that his son be spared, was inconsolable when he learned about Absalom’s death. His sorrow is greatly expressed in Psalms 3 and 142. David’s anguish arises not only out of the tragedy of his son’s death, but his failure as a father. This anguish is expressed in his heartbreaking cry: “My son, Absalom! My son, my son Absalom! If only I had died instead of you, Absalom, my son, my son.”
Then Joab was told that the king was weeping and mourning for Absalom. Thus, the victory was turned into mourning.
Let us take two sides in our reflection. First, let us take the side of David. Many parents are struggling with rebelious children. To them, their children has withdrawn their respect because they do not obey them anymore. The rebellious child would like to do what he wants; and the parents do not have a hold on them. Parents are hurt in the process. Eventually, it would lead to disciplining the family rebel by cutting off their allowance, grounding them, or nagging them til they drop. These tactics, from my experience, aggravates matters. The more the child retaliates and plans rebellion like Absalom. Usually, the child has a good intention --- like Absalom’s love for Thamar. He has, however, erred in his killing of his half-brother Amnon. A large part therefore is in one’s parenting: explaining to children why a certain action is unacceptable. David wept because he has failed as a father.
On the other hand, the rebellious child is influenced by many unexpressed hurt feelings caused by their parents or siblings. Sibling rivalry and favoritism are special issues. Absalom was jealous of Solomon who will inherit the throne. Often rebeliousness is an attention-getting device.
One thing, however, is clear. Our parents are givens in life. We cannot opt for another parent. Whatever way they take care of us --- and some of their strategies we may not agree with --- is what they knew and learned from their childhood. Our parents’ love for us is beyond doubt. David genuinely was full of remorse for he loved Absalom, despite the hurt Absalom inflicted on him. Filipinos have a way of saying this: “Tatay mo pa rin siya; Anak mo pa rin siya.” (No matter what, they are still your father/child.”
The same thing with divine sorrow for our human sins which takes remedial action through Christ. Out of deep sorrow for our sins, God, our Father, sends his only son. Whatever happens, we remain his children. And whatever happens, God is always our Father. Psalm 103,13 says, “Like a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them.”
In the Gospel, Jairus was a synagogue official. But he would exhaust all means, including lowering down his pride, just to get his daughter healed. So too with God: if it needs the sacrifice of His only Son to redeem us --- his rebellious and unworthy children --- He would.
A Different Approach: The Beatitudes
3 February 2007 4th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Zephaniah 2,3; 3,12-13; 1 Cor 1, 26-31; Matthew 5, 1-12a
When Jesus preached, he had four dominant groups in the Jewish religion: the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, and the Zealots. These groups demanded strict observance of the Mosaic Law as well as Jewish customs and rituals. The Mosaic Law like the Ten Commandments focused on a series of “Thou shall not…” --- which one should avoid in daily life. It is a lifestyle of avoidance. This stance is seen in the first reading: the prime motivation is to avoid punishment; "to be sheltered from God's wrath". Like a child who shows goodness out of fear of their parents;
The Beatitudes of Jesus presents a different perspective; it concentrates on the development of virtues and the transformation of the person. It tells us of our proper motivation for the Christian life which would lead to the promise of salvation in the next life --- what we call an eschatological meaning. Thus, the perspective of Jesus is more positive: it places less emphasis on which rules people should follow, instead, focuses on helping people develop good character traits such as kindness, humility, meekness and love. For example, when we hope and trust in God, we can be free from vindictive anger and we will be people who are gentle. Trusting in God’s care for us makes it easier to deal justly with others, thus we do not have to cheat, lie and to steal which are not rightfully ours.
These character traits will allow a person to make correct decisions later in life. Conversely, the opposite of these virtues as bad habits and vices stand on the way of becoming a good person.
One good thing about the Beatitudes is that they place a very important role on our motivation. To act from virtue is to act from some particular motivation. We always say that we should desire certain outcomes and that we should want to accomplish certain goals by our actions. To be pure of heart, for example, means to be free from our selfish intentions and desires. How many times have we performed or acted out on something for personal gain? Anong makukuha ko diyan?
Second, the Beatitudes challenges us to think about what sort of person we want to be. In the second reading, St. Paul said, “Consider your own calling!” When we are clear with who we want, correct decisions will come naturally. We will cultivate values which would help us become the person we desire to be.
In other words, we are challenged to choose. If you set your heart and use all your energies to get what the world values, you will get them but it is all you will have. But, if you set your heart in being faithful and trusting to God, you will find yourself in trouble, you may look like a failure in the world’s standard, but your payment will come in full in life eternal. Will you take the easy way which would give you pleasure and profit, or are you willing to look ahead and sacrifice them for the greater good?
Zephaniah 2,3; 3,12-13; 1 Cor 1, 26-31; Matthew 5, 1-12a
When Jesus preached, he had four dominant groups in the Jewish religion: the Pharisees, Sadducees, Essenes, and the Zealots. These groups demanded strict observance of the Mosaic Law as well as Jewish customs and rituals. The Mosaic Law like the Ten Commandments focused on a series of “Thou shall not…” --- which one should avoid in daily life. It is a lifestyle of avoidance. This stance is seen in the first reading: the prime motivation is to avoid punishment; "to be sheltered from God's wrath". Like a child who shows goodness out of fear of their parents;
The Beatitudes of Jesus presents a different perspective; it concentrates on the development of virtues and the transformation of the person. It tells us of our proper motivation for the Christian life which would lead to the promise of salvation in the next life --- what we call an eschatological meaning. Thus, the perspective of Jesus is more positive: it places less emphasis on which rules people should follow, instead, focuses on helping people develop good character traits such as kindness, humility, meekness and love. For example, when we hope and trust in God, we can be free from vindictive anger and we will be people who are gentle. Trusting in God’s care for us makes it easier to deal justly with others, thus we do not have to cheat, lie and to steal which are not rightfully ours.
These character traits will allow a person to make correct decisions later in life. Conversely, the opposite of these virtues as bad habits and vices stand on the way of becoming a good person.
One good thing about the Beatitudes is that they place a very important role on our motivation. To act from virtue is to act from some particular motivation. We always say that we should desire certain outcomes and that we should want to accomplish certain goals by our actions. To be pure of heart, for example, means to be free from our selfish intentions and desires. How many times have we performed or acted out on something for personal gain? Anong makukuha ko diyan?
Second, the Beatitudes challenges us to think about what sort of person we want to be. In the second reading, St. Paul said, “Consider your own calling!” When we are clear with who we want, correct decisions will come naturally. We will cultivate values which would help us become the person we desire to be.
In other words, we are challenged to choose. If you set your heart and use all your energies to get what the world values, you will get them but it is all you will have. But, if you set your heart in being faithful and trusting to God, you will find yourself in trouble, you may look like a failure in the world’s standard, but your payment will come in full in life eternal. Will you take the easy way which would give you pleasure and profit, or are you willing to look ahead and sacrifice them for the greater good?
The Death of Urriah
1 February 2008. First Friday in the 3rd Week in Ordinary Time
2 Samuel 1, 1-17 and Psalm 51: The Death of Urriah
David was the epitome of a servant of the Lord. His faithfulness and love of God was without doubt. The Lord blessed him and promised him a royal lineage where the Messiah would come. But in the readings today we hear about David’s murder of Urriah the Hittite. Urriah was the husband of Bathsheba whom David would like to covet. After he saw her beauty while bathing, David seduced her. She got pregnant, therefore providing the impetus for Urriah’s murder. Now, we ask how can a man of God commit murder?
A few days ago, I was at Philippine Jesuit Prison Service, the office of the chaplain of the National Penitentiary. We had mass inside the prison, and Fr. Vids Gornez SJ, gave me a brief background of some of the people at mass. A lay minister was once a priest charged of illegal recruitment. A member of the choir was once a seminarian whose crime was estafa. In newspapers in the past decade, we had many people who have committed abominable crimes. In the women correctional, one meets many women whom I think are very good mothers whose crimes were mostly theft or fraud, driven by the need of her family. These stories are unthinkable for many of us; but the reality just stares at our faces.
We do not condone their crimes --- even David’s. We do not agree with what they have done. We affirm that they have scandalize and disrupted the bonds that constitute the fabric of society. We can go on and on about how their crimes have affected and will affect the community we live in. It is not unthinkable then that these are the people we ostracized, we put to jail, we avoid to associate with. These are our Davids today.
They are the people at the periphery of our communities, and our consciousness. Some of us would make hasty generalizations, “All priests are evil, religion then is a hypocrisy;” or make gender biases like “all women seduce men to be unfaithful to their wives and their vocation.” Notice, it was David who saw Bathsheba first. It was not Bathsheba’s intention to seduce David. It was David who sent for Bathsheba to come to the palace. And at that time, or till now, it would be difficult to refuse a king --- or in the Philippines and the US, a president.
However, it was in the National Penitentiary that I experienced what a mass should be as Vatican II stipulated. All of them were singing to a live band. But it was there that I felt sincerity: when they sang the Kyrie (“Lord Have Mercy”), they were like the Psalmist today who pleaded, “Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.” At communion, they all lined up peacefully to receive Christ. To me the heart of Christ goes out to them.
How do we understand all these? Are we who did not committed as grave as their sins better than them? Are we better than King David? Or, who is better: the prisoner who sings from his heart, “Lord have mercy” or the daily churchgoer who doesn’t even care to open her mouth when the Kyrie is sung? Who is better: the apathetic unparticipative massgoer who needs Christ’s heart, or the prisoner who has the heart of Christ?
2 Samuel 1, 1-17 and Psalm 51: The Death of Urriah
David was the epitome of a servant of the Lord. His faithfulness and love of God was without doubt. The Lord blessed him and promised him a royal lineage where the Messiah would come. But in the readings today we hear about David’s murder of Urriah the Hittite. Urriah was the husband of Bathsheba whom David would like to covet. After he saw her beauty while bathing, David seduced her. She got pregnant, therefore providing the impetus for Urriah’s murder. Now, we ask how can a man of God commit murder?
A few days ago, I was at Philippine Jesuit Prison Service, the office of the chaplain of the National Penitentiary. We had mass inside the prison, and Fr. Vids Gornez SJ, gave me a brief background of some of the people at mass. A lay minister was once a priest charged of illegal recruitment. A member of the choir was once a seminarian whose crime was estafa. In newspapers in the past decade, we had many people who have committed abominable crimes. In the women correctional, one meets many women whom I think are very good mothers whose crimes were mostly theft or fraud, driven by the need of her family. These stories are unthinkable for many of us; but the reality just stares at our faces.
We do not condone their crimes --- even David’s. We do not agree with what they have done. We affirm that they have scandalize and disrupted the bonds that constitute the fabric of society. We can go on and on about how their crimes have affected and will affect the community we live in. It is not unthinkable then that these are the people we ostracized, we put to jail, we avoid to associate with. These are our Davids today.
They are the people at the periphery of our communities, and our consciousness. Some of us would make hasty generalizations, “All priests are evil, religion then is a hypocrisy;” or make gender biases like “all women seduce men to be unfaithful to their wives and their vocation.” Notice, it was David who saw Bathsheba first. It was not Bathsheba’s intention to seduce David. It was David who sent for Bathsheba to come to the palace. And at that time, or till now, it would be difficult to refuse a king --- or in the Philippines and the US, a president.
However, it was in the National Penitentiary that I experienced what a mass should be as Vatican II stipulated. All of them were singing to a live band. But it was there that I felt sincerity: when they sang the Kyrie (“Lord Have Mercy”), they were like the Psalmist today who pleaded, “Be merciful, O Lord, for we have sinned.” At communion, they all lined up peacefully to receive Christ. To me the heart of Christ goes out to them.
How do we understand all these? Are we who did not committed as grave as their sins better than them? Are we better than King David? Or, who is better: the prisoner who sings from his heart, “Lord have mercy” or the daily churchgoer who doesn’t even care to open her mouth when the Kyrie is sung? Who is better: the apathetic unparticipative massgoer who needs Christ’s heart, or the prisoner who has the heart of Christ?
Nothing can Block God's Promise
31 January 2008 Thursday of the 3rd Week in Ordinary Time
2 Samuel 7, 18-19, 24-29; Mark 4, 21-25
At the beginning of the 7th chapter of the 2nd Book of Samuel, David has already been very successful as king of Israel. He has united the tribes that were once at war with each other. And he was set in building the temple, the ‘house’ of the Lord. But Yahweh had other plans. Yahweh, not David, will build a house --- but a different house. It would not be a building, but a dynasty: a line of kings from whom will come the Messiah.
Let’s do a fast forward: Solomon will not be faithful and the rest of the kings that followed. But even then, the Lord was not deterred from keeping his promise. From the line of David, came Jesus, the eternal king. Jesus would then be like a lamp on a lampstand, on whose life our lives will be measured. People from all walks of life who believed in Jesus will make Jesus’ life the critieria of living well. How well we are is measured by how close we are to becoming like Christ.
Have you ever experienced blocks that prevented you from realizing your dreams? When on our way to university or graduation, our family suddenly loses its business or the breadwinner dies or marries. When almost being on top of the class, one fails a major exam. When almost about to finish our thesis, a chapter has to be revised in so short a time. When we are in love with someone, we are suddenly prevented by our parents from having a relationship. Or when our wrong decisions in the past cannot mend a once beautiful relationship. I remember the TV series, Smallville: Clark Kent always loved Lana, but every time he would come close to her, something happens --- either his fear prevents him from telling the truth, or an accident occurs as in the episode, Reckoning, in Season 5.
But we do have stories, when everything turns out for the better. As Julian of Norwich would always say about hope, “All shall be well.” Even then, we do have something more powerful: our freedom. Our freedom of self-determination. We cannot be enslaved by fate. Nor can God be paralyzed by our stupidity or by blocks on life’s road. This is where God becomes powerful: nothing can prevent Him from keeping His promise --- or giving us, with our determination --- what we yearn for.
*UP Education mass at the lobby.
A Common Language
30 January 2008 Wednesday of the 3rd Week in Ordinary Time
2 Samuel 7 A Common Language
The first reading speaks about Yahweh’s request for a house on which the ark of the covenant will rest. A house can also mean a family, a group of people living together and functioning as a single household, or all the people who descend from a common ancestor. The house of David means from the line or stock of David; and this line is what the Lord wanted to build. Thus, a group of people is a house if they are related to each other, by birth, marriage, adoption or traces their roots to a common ancestor. In addition, the Gospel tells us about parables, a literary device which Jesus widely used in his preaching. Let me do some connections.
First, people are brought together by the truth. Jesus gathered people because he was frank about the hypocrisy of people. He gave assuring words to those who were sick. He used parables, vivid images from daily life, to illustrate the deeper meaning of reality. Because of Jesus’ honesty and truthfulness in his words, he was able to bring people together. The apostles had their parrhesia, their radical truthfulness in their teaching.
The same thing with life. When a parent talks to his children about his cancer, members of the household becomes closer as they share the pains of the cancer victim. A special child in the family unites them because each share the truth about their kin. When a person finally comes out of the closet, his friends would tend to sympathize with him --- rather than walk away as feared. When we ask for forgiveness by giving an account of our hearts, our vulnerability makes it easier for the other to grant pardon. When we are able to articulate and express the aspirations and dreams of many people, our language becomes alive and a point of unity. Truth builds a house.
Second, the philosopher Wittgenstein said, “to imagine a language is to imagine a form of life.” People who belong to a house has a language of their own. There is common life where there is a language. Let me explain. If you’re from UP, you have a common vocabulary taken from a shared experience. If you say SC in UP, it will mean the shopping center. In other universities, SC means student council. If you say AS in UP, it means Palma Hall; in other schools, it means Arts and Sciences. But only in UP, can you meet the IKOT-TOKI, meaning jeepney routes: IKOT (around UP), TOKI means the opposite direction (notice the spelling!). Those who have lived together for many years like married couples, develop their own way of speaking and a ‘dialect’ that carries with it their common jokes, experiences, and memories. The gay community in the Philippines develop a lingo where common expressions like chaka and tsika came from.
The same thing in faith. The readings of the mass is the memory of our ancestors; we share the same stories and experiences not just with the present community, but with the first Christian communities, or further back, the Jewish community. It is the common language that unites us. When Jesus used parables, the imagery was from ordinary life during His time. The sower in the Gospel today or the image of the sheep and the shepherd were easily understood because, as Wittgenstein said, it was part of their life. In order to connect with our common ancestors, we should learn the language. So that wherever we are, when we meet fellow Christians we can talk like friends and family.
There is reason then to listen to the Word of God at mass, than just doze off to sleep.
2 Samuel 7 A Common Language
The first reading speaks about Yahweh’s request for a house on which the ark of the covenant will rest. A house can also mean a family, a group of people living together and functioning as a single household, or all the people who descend from a common ancestor. The house of David means from the line or stock of David; and this line is what the Lord wanted to build. Thus, a group of people is a house if they are related to each other, by birth, marriage, adoption or traces their roots to a common ancestor. In addition, the Gospel tells us about parables, a literary device which Jesus widely used in his preaching. Let me do some connections.
First, people are brought together by the truth. Jesus gathered people because he was frank about the hypocrisy of people. He gave assuring words to those who were sick. He used parables, vivid images from daily life, to illustrate the deeper meaning of reality. Because of Jesus’ honesty and truthfulness in his words, he was able to bring people together. The apostles had their parrhesia, their radical truthfulness in their teaching.
The same thing with life. When a parent talks to his children about his cancer, members of the household becomes closer as they share the pains of the cancer victim. A special child in the family unites them because each share the truth about their kin. When a person finally comes out of the closet, his friends would tend to sympathize with him --- rather than walk away as feared. When we ask for forgiveness by giving an account of our hearts, our vulnerability makes it easier for the other to grant pardon. When we are able to articulate and express the aspirations and dreams of many people, our language becomes alive and a point of unity. Truth builds a house.
Second, the philosopher Wittgenstein said, “to imagine a language is to imagine a form of life.” People who belong to a house has a language of their own. There is common life where there is a language. Let me explain. If you’re from UP, you have a common vocabulary taken from a shared experience. If you say SC in UP, it will mean the shopping center. In other universities, SC means student council. If you say AS in UP, it means Palma Hall; in other schools, it means Arts and Sciences. But only in UP, can you meet the IKOT-TOKI, meaning jeepney routes: IKOT (around UP), TOKI means the opposite direction (notice the spelling!). Those who have lived together for many years like married couples, develop their own way of speaking and a ‘dialect’ that carries with it their common jokes, experiences, and memories. The gay community in the Philippines develop a lingo where common expressions like chaka and tsika came from.
The same thing in faith. The readings of the mass is the memory of our ancestors; we share the same stories and experiences not just with the present community, but with the first Christian communities, or further back, the Jewish community. It is the common language that unites us. When Jesus used parables, the imagery was from ordinary life during His time. The sower in the Gospel today or the image of the sheep and the shepherd were easily understood because, as Wittgenstein said, it was part of their life. In order to connect with our common ancestors, we should learn the language. So that wherever we are, when we meet fellow Christians we can talk like friends and family.
There is reason then to listen to the Word of God at mass, than just doze off to sleep.
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