Why Do We Come to the Cemetery?

1 & 2 November 2009
All Saints and All Souls Day

The Gospel today speaks about practicing what we preach. But there are things which we practice but do not know why we preach it. For example, we come to Sunday mass but we totally do not understand what the mass really means. The same applies to our practice of commemorating All Souls Day and All Saints Day. We come to the cemeteries without actually knowing why we go and visit the dead. Media commercializes these two important practices by putting in the Western season of Halloween: Television shows like Wowowee! and various commercial establishments wore Halloween costumes as themes, and many of us associate November 1 & 2 to horror stories of ghosts. I believe Halloween is an empty tradition. I shall therefore embark on an explanation of these two feasts using three perspectives that are easy to memorize.

First, the perspective of hope. When I visit the grave of my father whenever I find the chance to be home, the first thing I encounter is the reality of forever. At the grave, I talk to him about my life believing that he listens to me and he is present. Memories of him flood my mind, and in the remembrance of the times he spent with me and my family, he becomes present to me always. Death therefore as faith has it is never an end. In the preface for Christian Burial, it is said that life has not ended, but changed. The same thing with me: whatever challenges I face, I am always reminded not to lose hope, because in the end, there is life forever. And the proof is my father’s presence to me wherever I am, never anymore limited to physical presence. My father is with me always, all the time, wherever I go.

After grief and sorrow, I find myself feeling a deep joy: that I am happy for Daddy, that he is home in the arms of God. Oftentimes, our grief is about ourselves who are left behind, but that is a different story. We are also taught that Christians should be happy for someone else’s triumph --- the remedy for our envy and jealousy. And right at the grave, we are asked to go out of our own self-absorption and be happy for those who have gone ahead of us. That their life speaks about forever, about hope, about God.

Second, the perspective of love. Closely connected to the reality of forever, we are reminded that all our love, all our life finds meaning, direction, and goal in the desire to finally come home to the arms of God. It is not surprising therefore that true lovers promise to love each other until the end of time. This theme one finds in our literature, in our songs, and even in theater: “Hanggang sa Dulo ng Walang Hanggan”, West Side Story’s “Somewhere”, etc. We have known this reality since time immemorial. At the grave of those we love, we have found the meaning of love. My love for my father thus is beyond the grave: not even death will bring us apart.

Moreover, the grave reminds us of the things that are really important. Often we are swept with trivial things that do not last: temporal things that have become the source of our pride. These are our economic status, our educational background, our achievements, and our titles. If we look more closely, we are in a twisted world. The Gospel teaches us that all of these temporal things are to be used for service, in the love of others. Case in point: when we reach the highest educational attainment, post-graduate studies for example, it is expected that our expertise will make us great educators. But tragically, many of those with PhDs are the most boring and horrifying teachers or astutely proud individuals. Our faith tells us that the more we have, the more responsible we become of others: thus, they should be able to adapt to slow learners as well as to gifted individuals. Great service is carried until the next life; the others end at the grave. Proof: we remember the sacrifice of heroes, and are inspired to continue their legacy.

In addition, those who visit us when we die are the recipients of our love. They are the ones who matter. They are the ones whom we should dedicate our lives with. This is the direction of all our courses of action, our decisions, and our sacrifices. The grave redirects our lives.
Furthermore, I find myself connected with my ancestors. At the side walls of the 17th century church of St. John the Baptist in Camalig, Albay are the niches of my ancestors who have contributed to the construction of the church. I was baptized there. I played the Kawai organ there in high school. And my vocation grew there. I would not be a priest now without the church built by great ancestors. In the cemetery, my mother would give me a tour of all the people there. She would tell me that her mother used to sing at church, and her father used to play the organ at mass. Today, that is precisely what I do. All these ancestors of mine contributed to who I am now. When I visit the cemetery, I find myself connected to generations of familial love and service to the community. I belong there.





Finally, the perspective of faith. Every Sunday, the creed is recited to remind us of the basic tenets of our faith. In the creed, there is a phrase that is the source of the practice of commemorating the dead: the “communion of saints.” Just as I am connected with my ancestors, we who are pilgrims here on earth are connected with those who are still being purified and those who are already with God. And all those who are with God are holy people: they are saints, whether known or unknown.
And their presences are manifestations of God’s personal love for us. By their lives, we are guided. We are assured that we are never alone. I know my father is a saint: his life has been a good example to me and my family. His being father when I was a child was my first encounter of God’s fatherly love; and it continues to be until now, and in the future.

As we visit the graves of our loved ones, let us make our visit meaningful by keeping them in mind. And at the same time, re-evaluate our lives in the perspectives of hope, love and faith. And maybe ask just one question: what would I like people to remember me by when I die or what could be my contribution to the people who will succeed me. As we commune with them, we pray for them that they too pray for us.

Photos of the Parish of St. John the Baptist in Camalig, Albay: the front, the side and the interior. Taken October 29, 2009. I grew up here.

Are You Blind?

24 October 2009: 30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jeremiah 31, 7-9; Psalm 126; Hebrew 5, 1-6; Mark 10, 46-52

The readings today tell us about movement. The first reading from Jeremiah is part of a series of poems celebrating the return from the Babylonian Exile. This hymn stresses the return of the weak, the blind, the lame, and the pregnant mothers among those coming back from exile. We can indeed say that they are on their way home. Similarly, the Gospel today tells us that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem with his disciples and a great crowd. As Jesus passes through Jericho, Bartimaeus regains his sight. Eventually, Bartimaeus joins Jesus and follows him on the road.

But there is an inner movement too. The experience of the exile is like the experience of blindness; and the experience of restoration is like the clarity of vision. Just as Yahweh was the chance to escape from the Babylonian Exile, Jesus was the chance for Bartimaeus to escape from his world of darkness. And thus, we learn that only God is our chance to escape from what imprisons us --- our sins, our painful past, our false securities, our obsession over success and our spiritual blindness. Only when we follow Jesus on the road towards Jerusalem can we regain our freedom. Let us look at the Gospel and see certain steps towards freedom.

First, determination. Nothing would prevent Bartimaeus from taking his chance at Jesus, even the silencing of the crowd. Bartimaeus was insistent and desperate. If we watch television contests, we see long lines of people auditioning, often braving hours of patient waiting. Nothing would stop them from taking their shot at stardom and from the possible recognition of their talents. And so should we: the road to Jerusalem is the road to the cross. On this road we may encounter difficulties. Think of those returning from exile: they must have questioned their capacity to rebuild their nation and their uncertain future. Think of Bartimaeus: he must have feared that his cries would be drowned by the noise of the crowd. But they have one thing in common: persistence and determination.

Second, an immediate response to the call of Jesus. Bartimaeus grabbed his chance quickly and instantaneously. People say that when your chance comes your way, do not have second thoughts, because certain opportunities come only once. There are many times when we desire to abandon bad habits or to resolve certain strained relationships. And when the occasion comes, our fears overtake us and we retreat from it. How many times have we neglected an opportunity and then regret not taking it? A pass-over opportunity does not come back.

Third, a clear desire. Bartimaeus knew what he wanted. St. Ignatius tells us that when you pray, be clear with what you desire and ask God to grant it. This is a fact of life: Those with clear goals are those who make it there. Thomas Henry Huxley defended Darwin’s Theory of Evolution. He was bold and convincing and he traveled to give lectures usually challenging several truths Christians held very sacred. After one of his lectures, he hurried to catch his train, and took one of Dublin’s horse-drawn taxis, and settled to rest his eyes for a few minutes. He said to the driver, “Hurry, I’m almost late. Drive fast!” The horses galloped rapidly and before long they were going west. Henry leaned forward and asked the driver, “Do you know where you’re going?” The driver yelled, “No, sir, but I am driving very fast!” All actions are meaningless unless it has direction or a clear desire that organizes them. Rollo May said, “It is an old and ironic habit of human beings to run faster when we have lost our way.” Clear goals and desires keep us on the road.

Let us see what aspects of ourselves prevent us from moving towards God. And perhaps learn from the readings today how we can fix our gaze on Jesus and follow Him on the road to our Jerusalems.

Do You Do the Things You Don't Want to Do?

23 October 2009. Friday of the 29th Week in Ordinary Time
Romans 7, 18-25; Psalm 119; Luke 12, 54-59

We can identify with Paul’s anguish when he laments that he does not do the good that he wants, but he does the evil that he does not want. This seem too familiar to many of us. We are able to judge what is right and what is wrong. We know when our decisions are correct and when it is erroneous. We actually feel it: we feel at peace when it is right or we feel disturbed when it is wrong. But still we do it. We always say, masarap ang bawal. We like what is prohibited. For example, when our parents forbid us from drinking alcoholic beverages, we would sneak and try them either alone but usually with our group of friends. Or we know that cheating is wrong, but we still do it because we are afraid to fail the exams. Anything prohibited has some seductive quality to us.

Thus, we are morally accountable for the wrong things that we do because we know it is wrong. The Gospel tells us that the problem does not lie on our ignorance. We can predict the weather and more accurately today: you can Google weather forecasts and you can view incoming typhoons via satellite. Information is not anymore a problem since the cyberage. We can judge what is right.

The problem I guess is in our stubbornness. Matigas ang ating mga ulo. We refuse to learn. The criteria of our judgment is what we want, what we like, what is beneficial to us: not what is right. And we have the tendency to justify our actions. We resist external influences because we prefer our own way. We want to make up our minds and follow our own instincts. We are slow to respond to external correcting measures and so we remain having behavior that is inappropriate at times. When we are stubborn, our self-image is self-contained, that means we would like to function on our own, without regard for others or the environment. We do not want to consult and therefore rarely seek advice from others especially in making decisions. Thus, as Jesus said, we rarely seek knowledge about our situation so that we can make an informed decision --- and follow a formed and well informed conscience. Thus many of our decisions are irrational, emotional, arbitrary and inflexible. In other words, when we are stubborn we are afraid of new situations. We are afraid to dare new ways of doing things.

The solution is a great trust in the word of God and welcome some inconveniences. Following what is right challenges our comfort zones. As the responsorial psalm teaches us, the precepts of the Lord is always right. When we follow it, it will always be beneficial to us. We will not die following it, in fact, we become better and authentic human beings. The key to combat stubbornness is flexibility. St. Ignatius called it a virtue. There are many times when we have to flow gracefully with the circumstances like adapting to the many phases of life like old age or changes in structure when an old organization have to reformat themselves in the post modern world. We must not spend all our energies in resisting change. It is good to remember the huge acacia trees during typhoons: often they break if they do not bend with the wind.

Teddy Locsin's Eulogy

Teddy Locsin's Eulogy

President Corazon Aquino's Wake

4 August 2009

Note: Once in a while you get to grab a copy of a speech that moved you to tears. This is one of those. And in the tradition of guests in a blog like Conrado de Quiros, I decided to put in Teddy Locsin as well. This is taken from Jessica Zafra's website. Teddy Locsin was the Presidential Spokesperson and legal counsel of President Cory Aquino from 1985-92.

Throughout thirteen years of martial law, until I laid eyes on her again, I never thought that I would ever see the end of it. Least of all that my father would survive it. I am not much given to prayer or pious reflection but when I could set aside my anger, I prayed my father would see democracy again.

Late one afternoon, in San Francisco, I got a call. It was from Cory Aquino, for whom I had written one speech after her husband’s assassination. She said she had accepted Marcos’s challenge in a Snap Presidential Election. I put down the phone, and packed my bags, and reported to her at the Cojuangco Building.

I knew then she was the answer to my prayers. What I did not notice was that the closer we came to victory, which is to say the farther the prospect receded that the Marcos regime would survive, the less I felt the anger inside me. As each day passed, bringing me closer to the day I could get even, the less I felt the need for it as I spent more time with the woman who alone could make it possible.

I did not notice, but I was no longer looking back in anger, or looking forward even, to victory and vindication. Only now do I see. I had lived with my anger so long, only for the day to come when it no longer mattered to me. The only thing that counted was that I was living every day to the fullest, bringing out the best in me—for someone else. A dream I hadn’t had since I was a boy, feeding on stories of chivalry, had been achieved. I was serving a woman who was every inch a sovereign, all the more for scorning the slightest pretension to the role.

I did not realize it, even when I was already in the Palace, by the side of the President—among all her advisers, I like to think, the one who loved her most.

It never again occurred to me that I had scores to settle. And not until today, that I had passed up every chance to get even.

From the moment I came in from the airport and reported for duty, and she gave me in return the same smile she gave me on her deathbed, I never noticed… Not when I was with her in the campaign when she corrected me for not looking at the people I was waving at… Nor when I was with her in the presidential limousine looking intently, for her benefit, at the crowds at whom I waved… I never noticed anything. Except that I was with the only person that I would ever want to be with.

I certainly never noticed that I had left my anger behind. I don’t know how it happened. Except that Cory Aquino ennobled everyone who came near her. I have tried to say it publicly but never could finish. If you saw me as I felt myself to be, anyone would fall in love with me. I saw myself in that hospital room, a knight at the bedside of his dying sovereign, on the eve of a new Crusade, oblivious to the weight of the armor on his shoulders for the weight of the grief in his heart.

And because she always doubted my ability to be good for very long… Indeed, when my wife told Ballsy that I prayed the rosary at Lourdes for her mother’s recovery, Cory said, “Teddy Boy prayed the rosary? A miracle! I feel better already.” Because she doubted my capacity for self-reformation, she made it effortless for me by being herself. I did not notice that I was doing right by serving a woman who never did wrong. I am not sure how to take this moral self-discovery. It is so unlike myself. But if it will bring me before her again, I am happy.

One Person Can Effect Change

20 October 2009 Tuesday of the 29th Week in Ordinary Time
Romans 5, 19-21; Psalm 40, 7-17; Luke 12, 35-38

The first reading today affirms that it takes just one man to destroy the world, and one man to change it. St. Paul articulates the reality of sin and its universal impact upon all of creation. He recognizes that sin is an active force within and among all human beings and has been present since the beginning of humanity. He said that sin is expressed mainly through the “flesh”. But, this has to be clarified: flesh does not mean body, but describes a person from an unredeemed weakness, for example, evil, error or sinfulness. Our sinfulness thus caused alienation from God and fellow human beings. We have done this by our social and personal individual acts. But Paul gives us the contrast with Jesus: whose life and death redeemed us, and showed us how it is to live a good and upright life befitting who we are.

In our lives, we discover these two forces. In both forces, we realize how we can influence others, for better or for worse. On one hand, we know that we can lead people to sin. We sometimes know this because we can identify with the villains of literature, our movies or our television series. Though we dislike villains, but in truth, we understand when one of them exacts revenge when hurt, rejected, and insulted. We know that when we experience these unfortunate events, our anger pushes us to wish them badly. And without our conscience or societal moral norms, we could have buried them alive. This force has produced its own following such as Josef Stalin, Adolf Hitler, Ivan the Terrible, Vlad Tepes, Elizabeth Bathory, Catherine Knight, among the many most evil men and women in history.

On the other hand, many of us do not actualize our evil thoughts. Because we know that there is a better way to respond to them. There is “Jesus’ way.” There is a power that saves us from performing those thoughts. We either imagine how we would disappoint the persons we love; how one single brutal act can jeopardize our reputation; how it would damage our relationships with God and with others; how it would haunt us forever. Because, we also discover a power within us that can inspire those around us. When we are challenged and we face that challenge squarely, we discover that we have the strength inside of us to overcome almost any pain and problem, despite its enormity and its emotional intensity. When we are consumed by concern and love for others, our true kindred spirits are awakened. This is the stuff saints and heroes are made of. And the world is not wanting of them.

This is the same force that many people discovered in the aftermath of the two calamities that ravaged the Philippines. In the midst of government inefficiency and corruption, the private sector and the seemingly apathetic young rose to the challenge to help save those who have been gravely affected. We have countless rescuers and volunteers, donors, and those who used the web to broadcast emergency numbers, relief goods needed, centers for relief. At the center of hopelessness, we have produced a country of heroes. Indeed the power of each individual can change the world.

Here is a video that drives the point. Hope you enjoy this.

Will You Love God Even Without the Promise of Heaven?

18 October 2009. 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 53, 10-11; Psalm 33; Heb 4, 14-16; Mark 10, 35-45

Note: This is the homily on TV5 Sunday mass "Humayo't Ihayag". The previous post is about mission (Today is Mission Sunday). Use whichever you find useful. Apologies to non-Filipino readers. Paraphrase translations are in italics and at the end of the article. Thank you very much.

There was a little girl who talked to her mom after religion class. The child told her mom that they talked about Jesus going up to heaven and that now He is sitting beside God. As they continued to talk, the mother noticed a picture of a rainbow. She said, “Look at the beautiful rainbow God has painted for us!” The little girl replied, “Think Mommy, God did it all with his left hand.” The mother replied, “What do you mean? Can’t God use both His hands?” The girl said, “Of course not, Mom, my teacher said that Jesus is sitting on His right hand!”

May mga taong mataas ang ating pagtingin dahil siya ang “kanang kamay” ng presidente o ng isang mataas na opisyal sa gobyerno. The right-hand person is usually the chief assistant or an indispensable helper. Importante, kailangan at bigatin ang kanang-kamay ng isang opisyal. Siya ang pinagkakatiwalaan. Siya ang nakakaalam ng maraming bagay, kasama sa lahat nang ginagawa ng kanyang amo. (The right-hand person is well-trusted by his employer.) Dahil dito, makikita natin ang pinag-aambisyunan ng mga anak ni Zebedeo, sina Santiago at Juan. Nais nilang matamo ang pinakamataas na posisyon sa kaharian. Ang umuupo sa kanan o kaliwa ng trono ang pinakamakapangyarihan at pinakaimportante sa lahat ng tao maliban sa hari. (The sons of Zebedee wants the position and power of being the trusted aide of God.)

Ngunit sabi ni Hesus, “Hindi ninyo nalalaman ang hinihingi ninyo. Maka-iinom ba kayo sa kopa na aking iinuman at matatanggap ang binyag na aking tatanggapin?” Ibig sabihin, kaya nyo bang danasin ang paraan ng aking pagpapakasakit? At tugon ni Santiago at Juan ay isang masinsinang “OPO”. (Jesus said to them that they don't know what they're asking. Can they drink from the cup of which He will drink?)

We are no different from James and John who are ambitious. We are dazzled by the prospect of having the highest position in government or in our work. And without blame: the higher we climb the ladder, the bigger the pay, the more we can avail of the comforts of life both for ourselves and our families.

The answer of Jesus to both James and John is divided into two:

First, are you willing to drink the cup that I drink; to be baptized with the baptism with which I am baptized? Oftentimes it is not motivation that is the issue. The disciples wanted to follow Jesus. We would like to follow Jesus --- and we are following Him indeed. But do we really know what we’re asking. Are we willing to go through the agony and cross just as Jesus did? Are we willing to stand by Jesus all the way; go through His agony unto His death? Proof of this willingness is seen in the decisions we make in the midst of painful trails and tragedies. Will you stick it out to Jesus when everything is going wrong. When we experience failure after failure; accidents and deaths after another; losing a game after another; not meeting both our expectations of ourselves or the expectations of others.

And just like the disciples, we have answered with an eager “Yes”! Think of the many times we have said “Yes to Jesus” “Amen!” after every retreat, recollection, an answered prayer or a life-changing event, that we are so eager to promise to follow Jesus.

May dalawang lalaking sa gitna ng dagat na nasalanta ng isang malaking alon. Lumulubog na ang bangkang sakay, kaya napadasal nang malakas ang isa: “Panginoon, alam kong makakasala ako. Ilang beses na akong nagsinungaling, naki-apid, naging hindi mabuting ama sa aking mga anak. Ilang beses na ring hindi ako naging tapat sa aking asawa. Kung ililigtas mo ako at bibigyan ng isa pang pagkakataon, magbabago na ako. Promise. Magiging mabait na ako! Mamahalin ko na ang aking mga anak, at hiwalayan ko na ang aking kalagu ...” “Juan!” sabi ng kasama, “huwag mo nang habaan pa ang pangako, may barko nang paparating!” **

But Jesus challenged us further: “It is up to God to give out the seats with you!” In other words, the reward is up to God. Will you remain faithful to without thinking of who gets the credit. In the prayer of generosity of St. Ignatius, he said “Teach me to serve you as you deserve, to give and not to count the cost, to fight and not to heed the wounds, to toil and not to seek for rest, labor and ask not for reward....”

Magagawa mo bang maglingkod na “anonymous” lang ang pangalan mo. Walang recognition. Walang nakasulat “Donated by” or “Gawa sa kagandahan loob ng Mayor ...” Magbabago ka ba kung walang langit? Gagawin mo pa rin ba para sa Diyos, meron o walang kapalit? ***

** Two men were drowning from a big wave, their boat sunk, so one of them prayed: "Lord if you would save me, I promise to be kind and to be a good father to my kids. I promise never again to be unfaithful to my wife. I promise to end an adulterous relationship ..." "Juan," the other man said, "Don't lengthen the list. A boat is approaching!"

*** Can you be an anonymous benefactor? Serve without wanting to be recognized. Not wanting to place one's name on a donation like "Donated by" or "Through the generosity of Mayor ... ". Will you change even without the promise of heaven or power or position? Will you do it for God, without expecting something in return?

Is Volunteering in Church better than in Civic Orgs?

18 October 2009 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 53, 10-11; Psalm 33; Hebrews 4, 14-16; Mark 10, 35-45

I have only one main point today: we are all called to be missionaries in all aspects of our lives and at various levels. Before I scare you away, let me explain what we mean by missionary. When we encounter the word, mission, we usually refer to an important assignment that is given to us, for political, religious, or commercial purposes. But it has an angle that involves going to another place, a travel, a being “sent away” such as a mission to China or Africa.

In history, missionaries went to far-flung and exotic countries to conquer the land not just by the sword but also by the cross. The Philippines was one of them. Since then, we have always understood “missions” as pertinent to those type of missionaries. Around the 16th century, the word, mission, was understood as denoting the Holy Spirit sending people into the world; to proclaim the Gospel in new territories. One can imagine the church like a seed being transplanted to another place.

Thus, missionary activity means the conversion of non-Christians, performed only by a select few. Missionaries plant the seeds of the Gospel until the local church is adequately organized, possessing their own strength and maturity with sufficient means (with its own hierarchy & faithful) to live a full Christian life. Missionary activity will have a certain time frame: missionary activity terminates in pastoral ministry once the “mission area” has been permanently converted and settled. Once people are already in the Church, mission work turns into pastoral activity meaning the care of the faithful already in the Church.

But the Church continued to reflect on its mission and has now improved on its basic understanding of itself. The old understanding focused too much on the church. The document Ad Gentes said that the focus is not what the Church does, but what the Father does (Missio Dei). Patterned on the nature of God, the Church exists primarily because of its mission, to evangelize. It is the nature and identity of the Church to be missionary. Thus, it is not anymore a work of only a selected few, but a work of all.

There is no distinction between the sending church and the receiving church. As we are sent to serve, we also receive something. Not as a form of payment (“serve first and God will grant your wishes”) but as we are, at the same time. When we volunteer to help victims of the flood, we receive the grace of generosity at the same time. When we give love, we receive the grace of love itself. And thus, when we do mission work, our focus is the building of the Kingdom of God, not the promotion of our religion or our churches. It is in communion with all other churches. What is the difference? The Our Father tells us what we mean by the Kingdom of God: the Kingdom comes when God’s will is done on earth as in heaven. The building of the Kingdom of God is in a permanent state of mission, not a time frame. We are on mission all the time, every single moment of our lives. Because we should do God’s will all the time.

And thus, when we evangelize, we bring the Good News into all strata of humanity, and through its influence, transforming humanity from within and making it new (Dupois). The end therefore is a renewed humanity, a transformed world. Thus the Gospel is intended to be destined to all strata, all sectors, all aspects of culture, and all peoples.

And thus, the answer to the question, “Which is better: volunteering in the church or in a secular institution?” is simple: it does not matter. Volunteer wherever you are; do whatever you can; choose which is more efficient and effective. In either a church-based center or a civic organization, we can be missionaries for the Kingdom. Service do not have distinctions. We serve because it is what God does. We give to all because God loves all. We care because God cares. And we become what we are as God’s children, when mission becomes who we are. Why? Because it is what God is.

Who Makes Us Worthy

15 October 2009 Thursday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time
Rom 3, 21-30; Psalm 130; Luke 11, 47-54

The first reading speaks to many of us who think that when we are “perfect” we will be worthy of God. Some even believe, often unawares, that we can “earn” God’s love through our efforts alone. All of us have failed God, have not measured up to our potential glory through our individual, personal or even social misdeeds. And if we commit mistakes several times, how can we be in a right relationship with God?

We have also struggled with this even in our human relationships. At the onset of a potential relationship, we would put our right foot forward. We always try to be the perfect person, following every rule and precept we find in “how-to” books about the perfect date, the perfect place, the right way to conduct oneself. We label it “the perfect person”. But often, when the “right” partner has been won, the “perfect” image begins to wear off, and we are so disappointed at what we have actually entered into or who our partner turns out to be. The right partner is not perfect at all: not even perfect for us. The reason is simple: we cannot find the ideal relationship, even the right person for us. It is worked out in dialogue with the ingredients of forgiveness and fulfilled promises.

Only God is perfect. But we move towards perfection. We will always find ourselves wanting, lacking, limited, sinful, neglectful, and even not knowing we are overlooking important needs of the other --- and even of ourselves. And thus, both person is never worthy of the other. What makes us worthy of the other is not ourselves, but the love of the other for us. It is the other’s love who makes us worthy of him or her. It is God’s love who makes us worthy of His love. Because the other chose us, freely and willingly. Because the other decided to commit to us, accepting our warts and all. We say before communion, “Lord I am not worthy to receive You, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” He makes us worthy to receive Him, not our achievement. Conversely, when we love another, our love for them makes them worthy of us.

The same thing with God. God’s love makes us worthy of Him. When we try to assess ourselves and judge whether we are worthy of His love, we are navel-gazing. We are actually focusing on ourselves; looking at our qualifications and resumes. But when we love, we just love whoever, whatever they are. Thus the thesis of St. Paul is true. Paul says, the One God is God of all --- Jews or Gentiles. No one can judge whom God SHOULD love. We cannot even judge another that that person should go to hell or heaven. That is for God to decide. We can judge whether the acts of the person is good or bad; but to condemn the other to hell is not our job. When we play god, we are self-righteous. Our ways are not God’s.

When we enter into the right relationship with God, we enter in faith. We believe that we are worthy to be in a relationship with a God because He loves us. It is not about observing all the detailed requirements of the law. I am not denying that certain laws are important especially in liturgy. There must be some structure to make worship organized such as rubrics at mass, or the color of the vestments, or the formula prayers for the morning. They are important. But we have to distinguish, as the Gospel tells us, what is important, what is more important, and what is most important. The tragedy is when we treat the trivial as the most important, than the most essential value of justice, faith, and charity to our neighbors. This is what the Pharisees overlooked as Jesus pointed out.

Discernment thus is essential in being in a relationship with God and with our fellow human beings.

When What Matters Isn't What Matters

13 October 2009 Tuesday of the 28th Week in Ordinary Time
Romans 1, 16-25; Psalm 19; Luke 11, 37-41

It is not uncommon to hear conversations or interjections from church personnel, administration, or government about the minutest mistakes they committed or neglected in the liturgy. Seminarians would talk about the wrong liturgical color or a misstep that ruined what could have been a perfect choreography at mass. Mother Butler members would cry over wrong arrangements of flowers or the incorrect size of the vestments they gave to the presider. Or some would be too scrupulous to even mathematically count how many tiny particles from the consecrated hosts that could have flown by a slight wisp of wind; too small to the naked eye. Some liturgists would have a fit when the presider neglects to extend his arms at points when they have to according to the rubrics. They find it hard to believe that God is far beyond these details. And all of them would find all these much much graver than the sins they actually commit against charity to one’s neighbors.

But this is not a particularly modern neurosis. During the time of Jesus, the Pharisees were concerned about the details of the Ceremonial Law. In the Gospel today, they pointed out to Jesus the neglect of the disciples who did not wash before eating (which modern science and ethics tell us to be preventive and thus important). But the Pharisees’ concern at that time (the input of science today was inexistent) was not so much the act of washing one’s hands, but omitting the details of the ceremonial law. Neglecting these ceremonies was considered a grave sin. Thus, many of the devout Jew would focus on the details. To illustrate: there are vessels and a prescribed amount of water for washing; there is a way to wash one’s hands like the water should flow first from the fingertips to the wrist, and then the palms will be washed by rubbing the fist of the other into it. And then, water again will be poured from the wrist to the fingertips. Omit them, you automatically incur a mortal sin.

The contention of Jesus is simple: if they can be as meticulous with the details and particulars of cleansing their hearts as the washing of their hands, they would be better persons. If we could be as concerned about the uncleanliness of our interior life as we are concerned about the arrangements of the flowers on the alter, we could have been better Christians. We could have been greater parish administrators if we don’t forget the great realities of the Christian life. There are more things to be worried about that are more essential than the trivialities of liturgical rubrics --- though important in liturgy, they do not render a person unfit if they commit a mistake --- compared to one’s apathy towards socio-economic issues. It’s like having a parish priest who practically lives in his room, but do not have the heart to empathize with the people in his community. He would rather renovate the church, than build a community by being amiable himself.

The tragedy as Jesus points out is flipping the values, making the trivial matter, than what really matters. In an environment that supports and encourages hierarchy, the tendency of people “under them” is to show empty and pretentious reverence. This behavior is often shown out of fear to those who coax them because of their authority, than respect rendered to those who earned it. During the time of Jesus, the Pharisees would be pleased if they sit on presidential chairs that is seen by many people; or greeted with flattery in public even if they don’t deserve it. Those who are “inferiors” (compared to the superiors of the hierarchy) would exhibit external behavior that is pleasing, going through the correct motions at the appropriate time (especially if the boss is around), and think that because they have done a good show, they are pleasing to the eyes of God. But wait: when the cat is away, as we all say, the mice will play. The trouble is, we see them play, but we don’t do anything at all. To notify the cat is often the best measure. Or if the cat is always away dining, we might have to decide to find another cat. A much, much better cat.

The externals are also important since they should, in honesty, validate our internal environment. But they are not as important as the naked truth.

Does God Prevent Us from Becoming Rich?

11 October 2009. 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Wisdom 7, 7-11; Psalm 90; Hebrew 4, 12-13; Mark 10, 17-30

The Gospel’s rich young man can become, in some ways, an icon of today’s youth. If you were born around the late 1990s to the present 2009, on the average you may be highly connected, having had lifelong use of communications and media technologies such as the internet, instant and text messaging, MP3 players, cellphones, social media and Youtube. Or even earlier, being born by parents from the late 1960s to 1990s, you probably grew up with the beginning of interconnectivity technology, had pagers and cellular phones, and started using the internet and emails. If you belong to these generations, the rich young man can speak to us in some specific way.

It is said that our young possesses a lot of gadgets, but despite the benefit of having to connect and communicate easier, this generation find in themselves a certain emptiness. The rich young man’s quest for fulfillment in his life, amidst the enormous wealth that he has, lead him to seek the wisdom of Jesus. The emptiness is like the isolation one experiences despite the ability of Friendster, Multiply or Facebook to connect with the people who matter and in the midst of gadgets that let you talk or communicate instantly, even seeing the person in another part of the world virtually talking to us on Skype or YM.

How did Jesus helped the young man find the answer to his emptiness? Jesus walked him through his search. He enumerated the commandments, and the young man said that he had observed them from his youth. And when Jesus finally challenged him to give everything that he has to the poor, his face fell. He couldn’t give everything. The fact is that Jesus never said a portion of it, or a part of his treasure; Jesus said all of it, everything including the people he has been attached to. Jesus was not asking us to “abandon our fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters” but to have an attitude of detachment from them. Often we are paralyzed when our world depends on the people and the things that we own. We cannot normally function when these people leave or die, or when things are destroyed. And one requires a spirituality to be able to let go.

Fr. Joaquin Bernas SJ defines spirituality as this: “By ‘spirituality’ I do not mean external piety such as novenas, lighted candles, pilgrimages, and crawling on bended knees in Quiapo church. By spirituality, rather, I mean a person’s governing world of meaning, his or her dominant worldview, how he or she relates not just with God, not just with men and women, but also with material wealth.” It means having the wisdom to know what matters to us, what values we lived by, what makes our lives meaningful. It means having the right relationship as regards to material wealth and to people around us. It means having the ability to be flexible than rigid; to be able to find an alternative way of praying when circumstance makes it impossible to perform the prayer we have been accustomed to do. To know Who is the locus of our life and everything else matters only in so far as we do not lose our gaze on God, then we have a spirituality. When we are able to acquire this wisdom through constant prayer, as the first reading tells us, we will be free from any inordinate attachments.

Does this mean that God does not want us to be rich; to have more achievements; to possess the perks of our hard work? Not at all. God wants us to have the correct way of regarding what we have; to have an “ordered” relationship than a “disordered” one. For example, if we have been true stewards of creation, not reckless users of created things, then we would not have experienced the effects of climate change.

We are challenged to look at everything that we own and achieved as borrowed. Mr. Onofre Pagsanghan said that “Everything is borrowed. My life is hiram. My life is borrowed. My talents are borrowed. Whatever I have is borrowed. And so I use it in the way that God wants me to use it. For as long as I can use it. And in the end, nothing is mine.” Whatever we possess or own is not from us, but for us to use according to God’s intent purpose. By having this worldview, we are able to follow Jesus. And when we lose everything in a flood, a calamity, a failed project or a bad investment, we do not lose hope because our lives are not attached to them but to God. The tragedy is when we “lose” our gaze on God. When we become “godless” we lose meaning and we slide again into emptiness.

On the other hand, when we hope, we gain the power to rebuild again. It is God who makes us courageous to give all of ourselves. This I think is the substance of Filipino resiliency. To those who believe in God, their hopes are not gashed by a great tragedy. And to those who have great faith, but are not victims, they take upon themselves the responsibility to give hope to those who have been rendered helpless. How? By donating not just material wealth, but themselves entirely.

The Better Part

6 October 2009 Tuesday of the 27th Week in Ordinary Time
Jonah 3, 1-10; Psalm 130; Luke 10:38-42 The Better Part

The crucial question in the Gospel reading today is this: Why is Mary’s choice to listen to Jesus the better portion? We make two observations.

First, Martha’s work is undeniably important. To prepare the house and the food for a guest is charity. And in this case, Jesus is not just their guest but a family friend. In Palestine, hospitality is true virtue. Martha’s practical choice is like most of our choices. We always know that how much we have firmly resolved to pray, it is prayer that goes first when the going gets tough.

Case in point. When the relief operations at the Ateneo Covered Courts stopped at 11:30 AM for a mass, the Ateneo community was making a point. To stop operations for half-an-hour was a statement: that whatever help we extended to our neighbors springs from our love of God. But as the going gets tougher, they eventually decided to move the mass to a later time to what they presumed was a less stressful hour. The principle of having it as an important landmark eventually paved way to convenience.

I found an article that is good for thought. It is called the Paradox of our Times.


Can we just go back to the basics and enjoy life in a simple way?
The paradox of our time in history is that
We have taller buildings but shorter tempers,
Wider freeways, but narrow viewpoints,
We spend more, but have less,
We buy more, but enjoy it less,
We have bigger houses and smaller families;
More conveniences, but less time;
We have more degrees, but less sense;
More knowledge, but less judgment,
More experts, but more problems,
More medicines, but less wellness;
We drink too much, smoke too much, and spend too recklessly,
Stay up too late, get up too tired
Read seldom, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom,
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.
We’ve learned to make a living, but not a life;
We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
But have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor.
We’ve encountered outer space, but not inner space.
We’ve done larger things, but not better things.
We plan more, but accomplish less.
We’ve learned to rush but not to wait.
We build more computers to hold more information,
To produce more copies than ever, but have less communication.
These are the days of two incomes, but more divorce,
Of fancier houses, but broken homes.

Nevertheless, Jesus emphasizes that Mary’s choice is the better portion. Just as we have described the frenzy of our times, we have lost our center, and our inner peace. Most of us consider ourselves intelligent and smart because we study in prestigious universities. The more work we have, the more responsibilities we take, the more positions we hold and the more degrees we make determine how good we are. But more often, we find ourselves empty and lonely, stressed and overworked.

The inner peace that we are looking for can be found through listening to the Lord in the silence of our hearts. Rock star, Sting says the following in a speech at the Berklee College of Music's graduation ceremonies in Boston in 1994:

In the modern world, true silence is rarely experienced. It's almost as if we conspire to avoid it. It forces us to pay attention to ideas and emotions we make little time for. Silence is disturbing because it is the wavelength of the soul. (Reader's Digest September 1999. Asian edition).

Mary spends time to listen to Jesus. Therefore, Jesus is the center of her life: in Him alone Mary finds meaning in her work and in her life. We have a Filipino term for a person who does not have a center which gives him focus and meaning: kalat (being all over the place). Only when we have found the true center of our lives will we find identity and meaning. Mary’s choice is indeed a smart choice. We should make Mary’s choice, our choice.

The Samaritan in the Midst of Disasters

5 October 2009 Monday of 27th Week in Ordinary Time
Jonah 1, 1 - 2,11; Jonah 2, 3-8; Luke 10, 25-37

The Parable of the Good Samaritan is relevant today at the height of natural disasters as floods in the Philippines and India, tsunami in Samoa, earthquakes in Indonesia and Taiwan. The Gospel which includes the two greatest commandments suggest that our love for our neighbor springs from our basic love for God. The parable is important because it expands the meaning of ‘neighbor’ and illustrates that compassion is for all people.

The story begins with a victim of a robbery attack who was left on the road to die. Three passers-by saw him: a priest, who avoided him in view of purity laws; a Levite, a priestly class, who avoided him; and a Samaritan, considered an enemy of the Jews, who helped him. Today, the popularity of the parable can be found in how people understand the present-day Samaritan. At present, a Samaritan means a generous individual who provides aid to a needy person without hesitation. Thus, a Samaritan is someone who gives a positive response to the call of the Gospel. Their response is non-discriminatory. Their generosity is beyond race or segmentation or classification.

In the Philippines, commentaries highlight the positive response of private Samaritans to victims of natural calamities. But there are horror stories of selective charity. A barangay captain was caught setting aside relief goods solely for his family and friends. The best working rubber boats were preferentially given to the rich members of a plush subdivision affected by the flood. A mayor ordered his staff to stick his name on relief bags, while military trucks who took relief goods from the Ateneo covered courts where brought to Camp Crame for a politician’s photo-op before sending them to affected areas.

The parable’s message is explosive for many of us whose greatest talent is to categorize, classify, and catalogue people. The parable teaches us that an individual of a social group they disapprove or consider a rival can exhibit a superior moral behavior to their opponent in need. It also means that not sharing the same faith, interest or affiliate is no excuse to behave poorly. It also means that we can rise above our prejudices and let our human heart see the heart of another in need.

The parable also has some spiritual implications. The people expected to help, like the priest and the Levites, did not lift a finger to help the dying man while the Samaritan, whom we didn’t expect to provide assistance, did offer his services and restored the person to life. Similarly, the Philippine government whose aid people pinned their hopes to failed to deliver. Those we didn’t expect such as the young whom many of us brand as apathetic left the comfort of their homes to provide the human power to quickly respond to people’s desperation and urgent supplication.

For the priest and the Levite, to touch a dead person means to go through the purity rituals in order to be clean again. To aid the victim was inconvenient. During His ministry, Jesus helped those who were considered outcasts and sinners even to the point of being ridiculed by the “holy men” of the Temple.

But like all parables of Jesus, the image of the Samaritan sticks because it asks rather bluntly: Would we help only when it is convenient? Should we go out of our way to show compassion to all --- whether they are within our circle or beyond it? After all, our hearts are cut out to love. As the young who enjoyed volunteer service prove: it is possible to love even those whom we do not know.