When the Light Goes Out

23 January 2011 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 8:23 - 9:3; Psalm 17; 2 Cor 1: 10-13.17; Matthew 4:12-17

In the summer of 2009, I made my second entry into Sagada, a scenic and pretty town in the Mountain Province of the Philippines. It is characterized by the abundance of flowers, dramatic limestone peaks and a panoramic view of the valley. It stood about 1,500 meters above sea level, thus the climate was fresh and cooled by altitude. It was a place for adventurers and those who just wanted a quiet respite from the bustle of city life. I went there with a bunch of Jesuits who had just finished their annual retreat. While plying the little nooks and crannies of Sagada, we decided to go spelunking in Sumaguing cave. I was claustrophobic, and so I knew what might happen down there.

And it did happen. I was underneath a narrow stalactite passage when all lights went off. I was first in line and suddenly, I couldn’t breath. I panicked! I could not return because there was a long line following me. I just had to move on. But without light, it would be very difficult. Then one of the Jesuits said, “someone from up there will bring the light.” It brought me some hope.

My experience illustrates the meaning of the readings today. From both Isaiah and Matthew, they tell us the meaning of the coming of Jesus in our lives.

“The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light; on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death, light has arisen.”

Indeed, the coming of the Lord is like my experience in the Sumaguing cave. How many of us have scary and terrifying situations when the “light” in our lives just went off? When we have been left in a ‘narrow passage’ and there was no way to go and no light to guide us?

A few months ago, the onset of diabetes had been greatly felt. My bloodsugar would go haywire and I was in a state of ‘darkness.’ When my father died in 1990, a period of darkness fell on my family. When I was working in prison, the verdict was the time when all possibilities of a free life went out for the inmates. I heard many stories of people who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and literally, the ‘lights went out’ for them. To many of my friends, the rejection of a loved one was hurting that they felt like ‘dying.’ For some students, when their grades did not meet the requirement of their scholarships, their world went down the drain.

When tragedy strikes us, we remember Isaiah and Matthew: “The people who sit in darkness have seen a great light; on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death, light has arisen.” Sometimes we just have to repeat and repeat this passage in Scriptures to assure us that light is coming. And indeed, He comes.

But we also hear of success stories of those whose light has gone out. Some have even made their lives far better than before: a new perspective on life, a realization of the people who matter, the acquisition of a renewed strength, the audacity to overcome limitations.

Today, we reflect: what’s your success story?

Basketball And Jesus

21 January 2011 Memorial of St. Agnes
Hebrew 8: 6-13; Psalm 85; Mark 3: 13-19

If you’re in a sports event and the coach calls for ONLY 12 people, what do you think he is forming? Your guess is probably right: a basketball team. Each team consists of five players. In actual basketball, each team adds 7 more players on the bench in case of injury, foul or to give another player a chance to play and score. So, to form a basketball team, we need 12 people: 5 players and 7 on the bench.

It is not an accident that the Gospel today focuses on the number 12: Jesus appointed Twelve. In addition, it is not a typographical error that the first letter of the word, Twelve, is capitalized. Meaning, to choose 12 and not any other number is a deliberate choice of Jesus. Twelve is the number of Hebrew tribes that settled in the Promised Land. But Israel has been destroyed and all its people has been scattered. The dream of the Jews is a reunion of all who trace their roots to the twelve tribes of yore.

Just as a coach forms a team of 12 for basketball, so Jesus deliberately appoints Twelve to send out the message that He is forming a new Israel. The dream of restoration is now present in Jesus.

But forming a team of 12 has a purpose: to play basketball against another team. The purpose is to win and garner sports awards. Likewise, the Twelve are given a mission to accomplish. In the Gospel of Mark, it is “to be with Jesus, to be sent to preach and to have authority to drive out demons.”

The objective of the Apostles is still true today. We are Jesus’ disciples in this present world. How do we live out the mission given to the Twelve?

Let’s go back to the formation of a team. The coach holds the team together. That is why Jesus said that we are to be with Him. Before we are ministers of the Word of God, we are first and foremost disciples of Jesus. Our hearts are solely anchored or tied to Him.

Each player has a unique and specific role within the context of the team. Someone is to be the point guard, the off-guard, the center, the small forward, and the power forward. In the same way, the method we are to preach will be uniquely different from the manner another will spread the Word of God. We do not lose our identity in doing the mission of the Lord. But we are all working as a team in the same vineyard.

Driving out demons is a form of healing. Healing is an act of restoration or renewal. As disciples, are we agents of unity and wholeness? Do we gather people, or do we separate them? Do we strengthen and foster relationships or do we sever friendships and community life?

Jesus is inviting you into His team. Will you play?

Can You Break "God's Law" for a Person in Need?

19 January 2011 Wednesday of the 2nd Week in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 7, 1-17; Psalm 110; Mark 3: 1-6

There are blatant sins. But there are sins which are seemingly right, but slowly kills the spirit. This is the sin of the hardhearted.

The Pharisees are not evil. They want what we all dream in a civilized society. Civilization is characterized by organization, order and the law that keeps that order. To follow the rules keeps the peace in a society that can otherwise turn into chaos. We feel safe if we all act according to the structures and policies we legislate. Think of traffic. If we follow traffic lights, there would be less accidents.

The Gospel today tests the limits of the law and therefore, challenges the one who staunchly follows the rules. We have the man with the withered hand who needs healing. But it is Sabbath: healing is considered work like a doctor’s job. And work is prohibited on a Sabbath. For the Pharisees, we have to consciously give the Lord time to be worshipped. Why can’t the man with the withered hand come back the next day? Why can’t Jesus perform His miracles after the Sabbath? What’s one more day compared to the long time of waiting for healing? What’s one more day for Jesus? He was working the rest of the week, doesn’t He deserve some rest too?

But Jesus proposes and challenges our set ways: “Is it lawful to do good on the Sabbath rather than do evil; to save a life rather than destroy it?”

To Jesus, the highest law is the law of charity. Doing good is always immediate; every opportunity to do good has to be done. It cannot be postponed the next day. The healing of the man with the withered hand is for Jesus more important than the particular observance of existing laws.

Jesus desires that we should be discerning. We should develop the ability to see the breaking of God’s grace into events in our lives, in new creative ways, far beyond what we have been accustomed to. Consider traffic: is it right to beat the red light in an emergency? Can you counter-flow when your wife is about to give birth? Can all rules crumble at life-threatening situations? You know the answer.

With regards to the Church -- and that includes all of us: Are there instances when the Church -- and we --- can get so blinded in following what we think are necessary rules that we fail to encounter the breaking of God’s grace? When can the observance of God’s laws like liturgical rubrics be set aside in place of love for God’s people in need?

Sometimes what seems to be right can actually destroy love at the very foundation of every law in a civilized society.

What's Keeping You from Changing?

17 January 2011. Memorial of St. Anthony, abbott
Hebrews 5: 1-10; Psalm 110; Mark 2: 18-22

St. Ignatius proposes to the one who makes the Spiritual Exercises to meditate on God continually creating us. To see that we are works of art in the making. To discover that our life is a process. And also to envision, in the wider context, that it is also the same with the world. God is patiently at work, like a potter molding clay as Jeremiah describes to us.

As change happens, there are many things that are opposing. The old wineskins are incompatible with new wine. Old clothes and a brand new patch for it are unsuited. What has been is not anymore true to what is today. Archaic ways of doing things are not anymore relevant to this day and age.

When Jesus said this proverb, He was pointing at the Gospel. The ways of the world are irreconcilable with the ways of the Lord. When Jesus is present, the world’s table manners change. If the world would group people of the same stature around the table, Jesus would gather a diverse array, including those the world would turn its back on.

The context is simple: the Pharisees and scribes criticized Jesus for having a meal at the house of Levi, a tax collector and sinner. How could a prominent Teacher and Rabbi eat with those who are incompatible with His stature? How many are not at ease when a VIP refuses the presidential table and insists in being at the sides?

To insist on fasting when served with an array of scrumptious food at a wedding is out of place. The manner of the self-righteous is such. If one has a vow of poverty, one shouldn’t eat roast pork when there is lechon. Isn’t it insulting to the poor? The poor eats whatever is on the table, roast beef or dried fish. The rich can choose; the poor can’t. The manner of the Pharisees implies that dried fish is rightfully for the poor. Jesus, the Bridegroom, insist that all, including the marginalized, deserve to partake in a five-star buffet. To be poor in spirit is concretely practiced when one eats what is served without complaining.

Of course, sin is antithetical at the table of God’s kingdom. That is why Jesus offers forgiveness to our acts of sinfulness, but welcomes the sinner at the party. This is the reason why we say before communion, “Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world” and “Lord, I am not worthy to receive You, but only say the word and I shall be healed.” Sinners then are the ones Jesus gather at His table.

The Gospel challenges us and introduces us to virtues we may not usually consider. It encourages us to change our perspective in ourselves: we are always in a process towards becoming as God wants us to be. It asks us to develop an attitude of openness to change. It insists on the reality of goodbyes and letting go. Flexibility and adaptability are not only values of survival and evolution, they are also virtues articulated in Scriptures.

On the contrary, rigidity and a resistance to change are inharmonious with the ways of the Lord who continually creates. Well, psychology has it that these are also issues of being stuck. It is recommended that those who are, should make a trip to the psychiatric table.

Therefore, beware of the rigid! They can make their psycho-emotional difficulty into a virtue. Understandable: the old is always safe; plunging into change is hazardous and risky. But if you are at the brink of a new life, do not be disheartened by them. Remember, Jesus has a famous phrase for them: “Woe to you, Pharisees!”

What Prevents You From Admitting Your Sins?

16 January 2011 2nd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Isaiah 49: 3-6; Psalm 40; 1 Cor 1:1-3; John 1:29-34

I am not a stranger to make-up. Growing up in theater means having to use cosmetics in every show. People use eyeliners and foundations to exhibit a perfect look. Some people are even so attached to cosmetics that they have already believed that their made-up face is what they actually looked like.

This is what we do when we sin. We put make-up on what we have done so that the gravity of our sins are watered down. We joke about sin, downplay it, or deny it. Students now say that they don’t cheat, but they ‘share’ their answers so that their classmates will not suffer the consequences of failure. They have made cheating a form of charity.

Or they would justify cheating with ‘I am like everyone else. Who among us, at some point in our lives, didn’t cheat?’ We use different ‘cosmetics’ to cover up our sins, until one day, the sins we commit, do not matter anymore. Until they become ‘normal’ and part of ordinary culture. Proof: graft and corruption. It is commonly accepted that when you want a government official to give you priority, you have to ‘contribute’ something.

No one wants to admit that they have killed unborn children. They would say that they have terminated a pregnancy or they have removed an unwanted fetus. To make it sound clinical is to remove the cold-bloodedness of the very act of murder.

The consequence of this is a growing claim that we are less sinful. And when we are less sinful, we don’t need forgiveness. Why would we ask for forgiveness when, to our mind, we are not in the wrong because every one is doing it? And when we do not need forgiveness, then we do not need God who forgives.

People say that the greatest sin is not what we’ve committed: it is to commit sin and then to deny it. I believe this is what is meant when we teach that the sin against the Holy Spirit is unforgivable. The Holy Spirit helps us confess to God, to our brothers and sisters, and to ourselves that we have sinned through our own faults, in thoughts, in words and in deeds. Does this sound familiar at the Penitential Rite? When we don’t admit that we have sinned, then there is ‘nothing to forgive.’ And the Spirit’s act to reconcile us with God becomes futile.

The thing is: we find it difficult to accept our sinfulness. Acceptance will destroy our self-image as utterly perfect and righteous. We are afraid that if we show our blemishes, we will be rejected. We will become vulnerable.

Kilian McDonnell says, “Many people do not recognize Christ because they do not recognize themselves as sinners. If I am not a sinner, then I have no need for Christ. No man will celebrate the mystery of Christ in joy if he does not first recognize in sorrow that he is a sinner who needs a Savior.” Commonweal magazine (1 August 1970)

But John the Baptist tells us in the Gospel today, that we will be fine. He points, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.” He beholds the Lord. He tells us to keep our gaze on Jesus. And therefore, it is okay to admit our faults because He will remove our shame. John assures us of total acceptance and love; in fact, John tells us that we will not disintegrate in the hands of the Lord. On the contrary, we will find ourselves and be made whole.

The Sacrament of Reconciliation is made available for all of us who are disintegrating because of our sins. It is a sacrament of healing, and not of rash judgment. It is about forgiveness, and not punishment. What is tragic is that we do not take advantage of this Sacrament. To Catholics, the Sacrament is a grace given by God. There is a venue for us to palpably feel forgiven and at the same time, guided in our spiritual life.

This is part of the absolution formula that the confessor-priest says, “Through the ministry of the Church, may God grant you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” The penitent should come out of confession feeling pardoned and at peace!

This Sunday, it is important then to behold the Lord at all times. To the Lord, our natural self is more important than the image we project. It would be more profitable if we reflect on the various cosmetics we use that prevent us from appreciating who we really are, warts and all.

Do You Need To Rest?

14 January 2011 Friday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 4: 1-11; Psalm 78: Mark 2: 1-12

When we hear the word “rest” what comes to our mind? Perhaps a beautiful white sand beach or a favorite mountain retreat or on busy days a few hours off in a coffee shop. But the word “rest” in the letter to the Hebrews in the first reading is about something else. In ancient times, rest has been used to mean “resting” in God, being at home with God.

Unfortunately, resting in this sense is found to be difficult to do. Thomas Merton once wrote that as we progress, we have become very restless. The distractions of many advertisements have led us to pursue them only to discover that the promise of rest is as good as the hours you spent in the spa. Instead of giving us the peace of mind we long for, these various seductions left us more confused and non-committal. Rest does not last forever.

Thomas Merton’s words have become truer than ever: these distractions have lessen our capacity for peace. Take for example how we can’t stand silence. We do not want dead spots. In media, we say that we have to keep talking so that there is no “dead air” --- 10 seconds of silence is a mortal sin if you’re a broadcaster.

Thus the letter to the Hebrews that says, “Let us be on guard while the promise of entering into His rest remains” is both a caution and a challenge. We are to be vigilant so as not to forget that our rest remains only in God. We are to watch out that we are not drawn into the seductions of many things around us that we become scatterbrains. We are to be very sure that when we operate in this world, we will not forget God’s promise to bring us to Him, to enter into His home.

So today, find time to think about the distractions that veer you away from God. Why do they bring you further from being at home? After prayer, think about those things that bring you closer to God. Why do they bring you closer to home?

Have You Been Destroyed by Words?

13 January 2011 Thursday of the 1st Week in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 3: 7-14; Psalm 95; Mark 1:40-45

I hear a lot of celebrities saying in the middle of intrigues, “Words do not matter. It won’t kill me.” But words do matter. Take for example, malicious gossip. It destroyed many people’s reputation. It marred the way people look at you. It created a lot of prejudices that made things a lot more difficult to acquire. It also devastated many relationships that could have been fortified by trust. It had, in many ways, ostracized people: they lost their friends and found themselves alone.

In the Gospel today, the word that matter is “leprosy.” In the past, once you had been diagnosed with leprosy, you were automatically shunned from communal activities. You could not worship in public places. You were placed at the periphery of society. You had to live in graveyards considered by culture as a no-man’s land. The word leprosy was a stamp of death. There was no cure. Not like today, with the advent of a Multi-Drug Therapy or MDT, leprosy can now be healed.

But today, there are words that replaced the stigma of leprosy. A doctor’s diagnosis of “cancer” will catapult you to a new lifestyle. You will live in fear and dread. Or if words got around about you darkest secret, publicly revealed by your closest friends out of spite, it will throw you into a life of shame. Words do matter.

The Gospel teaches us that just as words wound people, words can also heal. Jesus’ words, “I do will it. Be made clean” are the sentences the leper want to hear. Those words restored Him to health, and thus returned him back to society.

It is good to understand that the word we dread to hear are replaced by the Word of God.

What words do you say that break or make people? Do you listen more to words that destroy or the words of God that builds our lives?

Is it Difficult to Pray What You Cannot Accept for Yourself?

12 January 2011 Wednesday of the 1st Week in Ordinary Time
Hebrews 2: 14-18; Psalm 105; Mark 1: 29-39

“Knowing” is the word for today. When we say that we “know” a person, we can mean different things. They can be acquaintances, those you’ve been introduced to, or even those whom you know, but they don’t know you. For example, you “know” a showbiz personality, but they don’t know who you are. They can be our co-workers or classmates whom you may know a bit of their general information, but nothing else. They can also be some of your close friends who holds some of your personal data, but they don’t know you intimately.

The biblical sense of “knowing” means that we know everything about the person, through and through. Some best friends or intimate partners reach this kind of level, but no one perhaps knows us “through and through” and to the very last strand of our hair, but God Himself. God’s knowing is a total oneness with our being that nothing that is of us is held secret. We cannot escape God, as the Psalmist says in Psalm 139:

You have searched me, LORD, and you know me. 
You know when I sit and when I rise; 
 you perceive my thoughts from afar. 
You discern my going out and my lying down; 
 you are familiar with all my ways.

The letter to the Hebrews affirms this biblical “knowing” because Jesus is as close to us as flesh and blood. He knows us totally and completely. There is a difference between someone who says, “She’s one of our friends” and another who says, “I am one of them.”

Jesus is able to heal us because He is one of us. He is able to “know” our hearts. He accompanies us in our illnesses. He understands what we are undergoing when we are sick or when we are caregivers of the ill. Take for example the Gospel today. Peter’s mother-in-law longs to care for her guests as custom dictates of hospitality. But she cannot because she is ill. In addition, I can also imagine Jesus’ understanding of Peter’s dilemma: it will be quite a challenge for a disciple to focus if he worries about his family. Jesus’ compassion makes healing possible; it is the power that gives life.

Ideally, this is the same for doctors: they have to know the patient first, then diagnose the illness according to this knowledge. So that prescription effectively aids healing.

Since Jesus became one of us, as we reflected in the past Season of Christmas, He continuously shares all our struggles. By being one with all our sufferings, He is able to heal and save us from our woundedness and sinfulness.

How open are you about all your struggles to the Lord? Are there things you still find difficult to pray about because you know how grave they are; that you are even not ready to accept that you committed them?

Do you need a make-over?

9 January 2011 Feast of the Lord’s Baptism
Isaiah 42: 1-7; Psalm 29; Acts 10: 34-38; Matthew 3: 13-17

Three choir members in my area in Payatas were sorting through items in our post-Christmas rummage sale. Ann looked at a tray of assorted jewelry and found them all junk. Juliet found an old cross pendant and said it was a treasure. She went home and polished it and wore it the next Sunday. Krystel looked at the cross and said, “It is good you wear Jesus all the time.” With one object, one would see junk, another a treasure, and yet another Jesus.

At the beginning of Ordinary Time, it is good to remind ourselves about approaching the Word of God. We will be listening to the same stories as last year or even the year before. And our tendency is to dismiss them and say, “I know that story.” Experience tells us that just as Ann, Juliet and Krystel saw one object differently, we can see the Gospel in three different ways. We can listen to it; learn from it; and then apply it to our life and live it.

The Baptism of Jesus is one story that we already know. When John baptized Jesus, the sky was opened, the Spirit descended like a dove, and a voice spoke from heaven. We simply listen to this story.

However, we can push this deeper by asking for their meaning. What do we mean by the sky opened? Our default imagination of God and all things holy are from above. What separates us from the heavens is that God is ‘up there’ while we are ‘down here.’ The same thing with the Israelites. There is a separation between the earth and the sky.

So when the sky opened, it means that God wanted to come down to the earth. That is why the prophet Isaiah (64:1) said, “Why don’t you tear the sky open and come down.” When the Lord ‘breaks’ this barrier and comes down, it means that He has heard our prayers and He is coming to save us. No wonder, the story of the Baptism of Jesus begins His public ministry because a new age has began.

Now remember Genesis. In creation, the Spirit of the Lord hovered over the waters. Therefore, when the Spirit descended it means that a new creation has began. In St. Ignatius terms, it means that God has decided to ‘re-create’ us once again, the way potters re-molds the clay after a disastrous attempt.

And finally, the Lord says, “This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well-pleased.” Jesus is therefore recognized. That is why tradition has it that the Baptism of the Lord is the “end” of the Christmas season, because the Baptism is a declaration of Jesus’ authenticity as God’s Son.

In our lives, a ‘re-creation’ has happened in baptism. Our baptism reminds us that we are children of God, and therefore, we have put on a different identity. In a deeper sense, when we were baptized, the skies were opened, the Spirit descended on us, and we had become a new creation as a child of God. So St. Paul writes to the Colossians, “You were at one time spiritually dead because of your sins, and now, you have been brought back to life with Christ.”

This Sunday, as we ended the celebration of the new year, we can look deeply into ourselves as a new creation. That God has given us a fresh start on our lives.

On one hand, we have already been changed in baptism. But on the other hand, we are also works in progress. We have to re-think our lives, make a personal evaluation of the past year, and perhaps, amend our ways with practical and reachable goals. (An article I wrote about making spiritual assessments is here.) This is in view what our selves are constantly recreated and re-formed by the Lord.

When we recite the “I believe... “ we are reminded of our promises to believe in the Trinity at our individual baptisms. When we profess our faith every Sunday, it is to remind ourselves that God has given us another opportunity to improve our lives according to our dignity as children of God. In many ways, Sunday renews our lives weekly.

Has the Lord Given You the Ability to See Him?

2 January 2011 The Epiphany of our Lord
Isaiah 60, 1-6; Psalm 72; Ephesians 3, 2-6; Matthew 2, 1-12

Note: The Filipino version that appears in Sambuhay today, Sunday, is in the previous post. Sambuhay is a publication of the Society of St. Paul.

We used to call the feast today as the Feast of the Three Kings; but I agree when this was changed to the “Epiphany” meaning “manifestation of God” --- when we are enabled to see with our own eyes God in the form of a child. All of the readings today celebrate this new way of seeing and recognizing God.

There is an important place in our faith for the ability to see. We are asked to fix our gaze on Christ, no matter what we do. The first reading and the responsorial psalm tells us about Jerusalem in shining radiance that all people from all corners of the world come together to sing God’s praises. All people gazes on the star of Bethlehem like the wise men who comes from the East. Despite the commercialization of Christmas, we actually see all sorts of people celebrating Christ today!

But who can see? The readings gives us the answer: everyone! The ability to see God is beyond race or religion --- Jew or Gentle recognizes God. The second reading explicitly show that “it has now been revealed to his holy apostles and prophets by the Spirit; that the Gentiles are co-heirs, members of the same body, and copartners in the promise in Christ Jesus through the gospel.” The magi from the east as Matthew describes were not Jews, they were Gentiles who belonged to a different religion.

How can we see? The Gospel tells us that those who sincerely searches for God find God. Those whose hearts yearn to see God recognizes the presence of God in the physical world. Those who crave and desire to find “God in all things” actually experience the divine in the most banal and ordinary things of the world. They are those who see what the saints already saw: that everything is a manifestation of God. Therefore, even if the wise men do not have the historical yearning for a Messiah as the Jews, the wise men were able to find God in the most surprising of all locations. Bethlehem was an insignificant village; they found a plain mother, father and a child, but saw through them and recognizes the extraordinariness of the child that they prostrated themselves and did him homage.

On the other hand, Herod and those whose hearts are evil and malicious do not find God. There are those who doubt God. They would ask for evidence or proof about God and, despite what we present, they will never come to believe. They would look at faith with distrust and regard faith as a problem. Talk about belief and they would shut you off, and worse, laugh at you. And therefore, no convincing will bring them to see God as you see Him. The truth of the matter is this: They will not find God --- until a tragedy happens or an extreme terminal illness befalls them. When all of their doctorates fail to heal their illnesses, when nothing can help them as in a life-changing exam, they will eventually begin to rethink and see the world ‘with a different eye.’

It is no wonder then that when we are faced with something uncharted or something happened that we cannot put heads and tails on it, we ask in faith for enlightenment. That like the Star of Bethlehem who guided the magi to the Child, we too are to be given the light to understand the world and our lives. To understand is to come closer to the God of Wisdom. Thus, when we study and discover truth after truth, we all the more wonder about the greatness of something beyond. TIME has it that Albert Einstein who delved deeper into things, finally wondered about the laws of the universe, “What separates me from most so-called atheists is a feeling of utter humility toward the unattainable secrets of the harmony of the cosmos.”

We see God in the world today because He reveals Himself to us first. We get to understand a friend only when he or she shares secrets with us. This is what we celebrate this Sunday: God chose to reveal Himself to us first, thus enabling us to see and encounter Him in our daily lives.

*painting by Brian Whelan.

Nagpakita na ba sa Iyo ang Diyos?

2 January 2011 Dakilang Kapistahan ng Pagpapakita (Epipanya) ng Panginoon
Isaiah 60: 1-6; Psalm 71; Ephesians 3: 2-6; Matthew 2: 1-12

Note: This article appears in Sambuhay today, Sunday. Sambuhay is a publication of the Society of St. Paul in the Philippines.

Tulad ng Epipanya o ang Pagpapakita ng Panginoon, binabago ng Simbahan ang iilang mga pagdiriwang upang ituwid ang ating mga paguunawa sa kapistahan. Noong mga panahon lagi itong pinagdiriwang sa ika-6 ng Enero. At dahil ang ika-anim ay hindi natatapat sa linggo, nakakaligtaan ng nakakarami ang kahalagahan ng pagdiriwang. Kaya ginawa ng Simbahan ang Dakilang Kapistahang ito sa unang linggo matapos ang bagong taon.

Sa pagbabago, higit na ipinamalas ng Simbahan ang kadakilaan ng araw na ito sa pananampalataya, mainam na makita natin ang tamang pag-unawa nito. Hindi na “Three Kings” ang tawag, kundi “Epipanya: ang Pagpapakita ng Panginoon.” Ibinaling ng Simbahan ang ating mata galing sa mga pantas at ang kanilang mga dalang regalo, upang itutok ito sa dapat na titigan: si Hesus.

Dalawa ang maaari nating pagmunihan ngayong linggo. Unang-una, ang pagpapahalaga sa paghahanap sa Diyos. Sa unang pagbasa, sinasabi ni Propeta Isaias na “natitipon na ang mga anak upang umuwi” at labis na ang kanilang tuwa. Maliwanag na ang kanilang daang pauwi ay sa Jerusalem, ang bayan ng Diyos. Sa Ebanghelio, ginagabayan ng bituin ang mga pantas tungo sa kinaroroonan ng Mesias. Sa iba’t ibang uri ng paglalakbay na ito, lahat nakatutok lamang sa Panginoon, ang mithiin nilang matagpuan.

Nguni’t totoong matatagpuan nating lahat ang Diyos. Wika ni Gerard Manley Hopkins SJ na umaapaw ng kaluwalhatian ng Diyos ang sanlibutan. Sabi ni Seneca, ang bawat nakikita natin ay may scintilla, isang kislap ng Diyos. Natagpuan ni San Benedicto ang Diyos sa labas ng kalungsuran; sa kabilang banda, naranasan ni San Ignacio ang Diyos sa loob nito.

Pangalawa, maaari nating tutukan ang Diyos. Ang taong naghahanap sa Diyos, kusang magpapakita ang Diyos. Ito ang kahulugan ng Epipanya, isang pagkukusa ng Diyos ang magpakita sa lahat ng tao. Kinakatawan ng mga pantas o mago ang mga bayang hindi kabilang sa Israel. Ibig sabihin, ang pagliligtas ng Diyos ay para sa lahat ng tao. Hindi kailanman ekslusibo ang pagmamahal ng Diyos. Sakop ng maluwalhating Liwanag ang lahat ng sanlibutan. At dahil dito, ipapatupad ng Diyos ang pangarap ng sinumang naghahangad makita Siya.

Paano ba natin makikita ang Diyos sa ating pang-araw-araw na buhay? Tinuturo ng Banal na Kasulatan na ang taong payak at simple lamang ang makakakita sa Diyos. Hindi nababalisa ang mga pastol sa iba’t ibang iniisip dahil iisa lamang ang kanilang hangarin: ang pagpapastol. Hindi nagugulo ang isipan ng mga mago, dahil iisa lamang ang kanilang hangarin: ang sundin ang guia ng iisa lamang na bituin.

Kailangang linawin natin ang ating puso’t isipan upang makita ang pinakamahalaga. May kasabihang itinago ng Diyos ang sinaunang Bituin, ang kapangyarihang makita Siya sa pinakailalim ng ating puso. Kaya sabi ni San Agustin, hinanap niya ang Diyos sa labas, at hindi Siya natagpuan; Hindi niya akaling nasa kaibuturan lamang ng kanyang puso ang Diyos.

Sa panahong samu’t saring mga advertisements ang nangangako ng iba’t ibang kaligayahan, nagiging kumplikado ang ating buhay. Nakakalimutan natin ang pinakamahalaga. Hindi ba mas madaling sumampalataya ang mahirap kaysa ang estudyante ng unibersidad? Hindi ba mas madaling magtiwala sa Diyos ang simpleng tao kaysa sa mga edukado? Maraming pagtutungali ang nangyayari sa isipan ng mga edukado dahil mas marami silang nalalaman?

Isang maningning na bituin lamang ang kailangan ng pastol at mga pantas upang maniwalang merong makahulugang pangyayari ang nagaganap. Ngunit hindi maisip-isip ni Herodes at ang kaniyang mga sakop -- ang mga edukado -- na sa isang maliit na lalawigan ng Bethlehem mangyayari ang pagsilang ng isang hari. Para sa kanila, ang isang hari ay dapat isilang sa palasyo o sa isang kilalang lugar. Iba ang pamamaraan ng Diyos sa atin.

Ngunit ang isang pagtatagpo ay isang pagkukusa ng dalawang tao na magpakita sa isa’t isa. Kailangan din ang ating pagkukusang magpakita upang matagpuan ng Diyos. Sa ating paghahanap, hindi natin makikita ang ayaw magpakita. Kahit anong gawin natin, kapag pinagtataguan tayo, mahirap silang hagilapin.

Dahil dito, pagisipan nating mabuti kung may pagkukusa rin ba tayong magpakita sa Panginoon. Nananalangin din ba tayo araw-araw? Nakikilahok ba tayo sa mga gawaing espirituwal tulad ng mga sakramento? Nagbabasa ba tayo ng Bibliya upang hindi mawalay sa atin ang Salita ng Diyos? Itinuturing ba nating kapatid ang iba’t ibang tao, kasama ang mga kaaway, kabilang sa ibang pananampalataya, o dayuhan?

Sa araw ng Epipanya, pagdasal nating mamalagi tayo sa liwanag ng Panginoon. Kung susundin natin ang Liwanag na ito, mararanasan natin na ang Diyos ay hindi lamang naghihintay na matagpuan, Siya mismo ang patakbong sasalubong sa atin.

*painting is by Sadao Watanabe.