Presentation of the Lord

2 February 2006: The Feast of the Presentation of the Lord
Luke 2, 22-32: The Prophesy of Simeon and the Prediction of Sorrow

Our “Simeons” come upon us as unexpectedly as Mary’s. They come with equally harsh news and the inherent understanding that we will suffer in some way because of what has been announced to us. We don’t want the news any more that Mary did. We don’t deserve it, but our Simeons appear anyway and with them come struggle and suffering. Our Simeon prophecies usually enter into our lives abruptly, suddenly, and without warning. These announcements shock, surprise, remove us from our comfort zones, and blast our reality with grief, pain and turmoil.

Many of us experienced a “Simeon announcement” of some sort. In the midst of a life that is going reasonable well, suddenly the doctor’s prognosis of a serious illness, a letter telling of a job ending, the family member sharing a dark secret for years, the boyfriend/girlfriend declaring separation, the child insisting of a decision totally contradictory to a parent’s dream, a closing of a bank account. I have my own “Simeon announcement”: the radio announcement that my father died when I was in the hinterlands of Bukidnon, the phone call that my mom is in the hospital, the exam results when I failed.

Sometimes our “Simeons” come from an internal rather than an external source. Our intuition, dreams and consciences are voices that can give us messages of a future sorrow. Some have an inkling that a family member died. A friend of mine was uneasy one day, and couldn’t put her mind in the work she was doing. She felt something was wrong and she could not put a finger on it. Later during that day, her boyfriend had an accident. They said that when two people genuinely love each other, they feel what the other is feeling even without a word, even at a distance. All of these Simeon announcements in our lives come inevitably and there is no way for us to prepare ourselves for the sorrow it will bring.

What does this announcement do to us? I guess the these bad news come, we become aware of how fleeting our peace and happiness is, how fragile our security, and how vulnerable our life can be. When we are faced with the coming of sorrow, we know that we do not actually control life. It is normal that our initial reaction is fear, anger, disbelief, sadness, emptiness, etc. Often we are stunned and we could not believe it. When my father died, I do not know what I was feeling. I went through the funeral numb and “devoid of feeling”--- since I am the eldest, I instantly became the “father of the family”. During the entire wake, I was the manager; I was not the “son”. It took me weeks and months, before the reality sank, before I really began to mourn my father’s death.

In the film, Good Will Hunting, the wise therapist says to Bill, the young man who was hurting: “Bad things draw our attention to the good things we’ve overlooked.” When a life situation or event springs upon us and predicts future turmoil, what we value in life suddenly because sweeter, dearer, and precious to us. When I receive my first phone call that my mom was in the hospital, I suddenly yearned to spend more time with her and with brothers and sisters. The father of a close friend of mine who had a son who is autistic once said to me, that it was his son who made the family whole. When we become depressed and empty, we yearn for the joy we have assumed and taken for granted each day. When someone whom we love leaves us, we suddenly realize how much we love them, and we regret that we have not spent time we them. Thus the foretelling of a sorrow, the Simeons in our lives is a warning call: “Attend to it! Notice it! Look! Appreciate! Affirm!” Beyond the shocking news and the sorrowful consequence comes the invitation to be grateful for what we already have, and to treasure them. I believe when Mary stood at the foot of the cross sharing in Jesus’ suffering, it is the memory of being together that holds them close, not giving up hope, and standing stronger than ever.

The Presentation of the Lord then, is a celebration of the precious things we value: love and life! Because of His love for us, Jesus has given us new life. It is an acknowledgment that love and life comes from God. And thus we present and we dedicate all of ourselves to God. Let us value what God has given before it is too late. We are eternally grateful.

* My mom and I. When I was born, she told me that she presented me to the Lord. The doctor told her that her pregnancy was dangerous and difficult, so she dedicated me to God as she prayed to St. Gerard, the patron of pregnant women. My second name attests this. I am her firstborn.

The Reason Why We Do Not Listen to Those We Know

1 February 2006: Wednesday of the 4th Week in Ordinary Times
Mark 6:1-6: A prophet is without honor in his country

It takes a wrong atmosphere in order for a Gospel not to take effect; it takes a wrong attitude in order for an inspiring gesture not to touch our lives. Jesus’ words were ineffective in Nazareth, because people were familiar with who he was and who his family members were. Jesus was a teleton: carpenter or a craftsman; a skilled laborer. Homer tells us that a teleton makes temples and houses. Second, Jesus’ was Mary’s son. The fact that Jesus was called Mary’s son means Joseph has passed away before Jesus was thirty. Joseph died young and Jesus took upon himself to support his mother and family. People in his own country could not believe that a man of his background could teach and do things excellently. Familiarity, as we have it, bridges contempt.

Let us see how this gospel applies to our lives. It is easy to believe those whom we do not know, but often those who knows us can speak the truth about ourselves, and the truth about us is painful. We have to watch out for the real reason why we do not listen to someone whom we are familiar with, lived with, and grew up with. We usually do not listen to the truth these people say, because our attention is drawn to their background and their faults which are also familiar to us. Our prejudices and biases shield us from listening to them because they are not credible to us.

We can either help or hinder the work of Christ in our lives. Those who are familiar with ourselves--- our parents, our close friends, people we live with in a community or a dormitory or a boarding house--- may give us things we need to know, even become instruments of God. Whatever they say can be valid reason for us to listen to them. They might be giving us feedback that would help us. There are certain things in our lives that we cannot see, but others can: they are our blind spots. There is a tool to understand what I am saying: it is the Johari’s Window, named after Joseph Luft and Harry Ingham, their inventors. Each person is represented by these window panes.

	Known to Self	Not Known to Self
Known to Others	OPEN	BLIND
Not Known to Others	HIDDEN	UNKNOWN

There is a part of us which is OPEN: those known by me and those by others. For example, my name, that I am a priest, that I am a Jesuit. And if you open this blog, you will know what I read, what I listen to, what I like doing in my spare time, my interests, and my basic profile. There are things about us which we do not know, but others see: they are our BLIND spots. For example, in a café, you may notice that my attention is not totally focused on you because my eyes wander around those who come in and out of the café door. I am unaware of this and the information is in my blind spot. Feedback from you, will surface the truth. Our secrets belong to the third quadrant: they are HIDDEN from others, but known to us. Finally, there are things that are UNKNOWN to others and to us. For example, the meaning of our dreams. The main goal of the Johari’s Window is enlarging the OPEN quadrant, by interacting with people.

If we listen to others, we are able to get to know the truth about ourselves. In Johari’s Window, these truths are surfaced and placed in the OPEN quadrant. When we become aware of these things, we are able to do something about it. God has given us an opportunity to grow. Feedback might be the voice of God challenging us to change. We can open the door to Him, or slam it in His face.

*Picture by Neo Saicon SJ

How We Can Heal

31 January 2006: Tuesday of the 4^th Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 5, 21-43: St. John Bosco

The Gospel contains all elements of tragedy. Jairus’ daughter was at the brink of death and a woman was suffering from hemorrhage for 12 years. And Jesus healed all of them. Healing is part of normal Christian life. Since the kingdom of God is also here and present, we share in God’s overflowing power to heal wounds.

Why? Because our faith is incarnational. God cares as much about the body as he does the soul, as much about the emotions as He does the spirit. The redemption of Jesus is total, involving every aspect of the person --- body, mind, spirit. Everything in us. All of us. God employs an infinite variety of means to bring health and well-being to his people: doctors, psychiatrists, priests. Nowadays, we often compartmentalize ourselves, and assign someone to cure each compartment: for our bodies, the doctors; for our mind, the psychologists, for the spirit, the priests. But the ancient Hebrews regarded persons as a whole, a unity. He who cures the body, cures the mind, and the soul. He who cures the soul, cures the mind and the body, and so on.

And thus, the refusal to use medical means to promote healing may be a gesture of faith — but more often a gesture of spiritual pride. On the other hand, a total trust on medicine alone; may be a gesture of our rationalistic attitude — and then, turn to prayer only when everything else has failed. Normally, the aid of prayer and the aid of medicine should be used at the same time and with equal vigor, for both are gifts of God, both are His ways of healing. I have known several Jesuits who are doctors. One of them said that he wanted to totally heal the sick, but unless there is the aspect of the spiritual, his medical practice is incomplete.

A normal way but effective method is our touch therapy. We find it in scripture. It is called the laying of hands. It is a gesture of compassion. Jesus laid hands on the sick at Nazareth. Jesus laid hands on the blind man at Bethsaida. Jesus’ took the hand of Jairus’s daughter and brought her back to life. The touch of Jesus’ robes cured the woman with the hemorrhage. Paul laid hands in people in Malta. (Acts 28). The laying of hands, our touch cures most effectively: it is a valid ministry ordained by God for the benefit of His community. This clearly shows the importance of contact and transmittal with God’s grace.

The laying of hands in itself does not heal the sick—it is Christ who heals. By employing our hands, God gives us the opportunity to impart healing.

Based from Scripture we find these steps helpful in healing.

First, listen to them: the step of discernment. Listen to people share their deepest need and listen to God to show the key to the problem. Often, the root of the problem is sorted out once people have let out steam, when they have talked and talked and talked. And often the key to the problem becomes clearer as they articulate their wounds.

Second, ask: the step of suplication. Know the key to the problem, then ask clearly from God what is needed without ifs, buts, and ands.

Third, believe: the step of faith. Believe with your whole person. If not, say, “I believe. God help me with my unbelief!”

Fourth, give thanks: the step of gratitude. Simple courtesy leads us to give thanks for what we have asked to happen. Gratitude heals. When we are overwhelmed with gratitude, we are filled with energy and vigor.

Today, we acknowledge our gift of healing and the importance of touch in our lives. If we would humbly seek our deepest desires, it is the desire to be embraced, to be touched and comforted, to be loved palpably that surface as a basic human need. And when someone touches us, all wounds are miraculously healed. Let us not deny each other the importance of touch. We can heal. It is part of our Christian life. Let us not withhold our touch from those who need it.

*Picture by Neo Saicon SJ

Jesus Launches His Public Ministry

29 January 2005: Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time


The Gospel today is Mark 1, 21-28: Jesus Launches His Public Ministry. Please refer to the homily last 10 January 2006, Tuesday of the 1st Week in Ordinary Time.

The title is: The Power of Words.

The Harvest

26 January 2006: Feast of Sts. Timothy and Titus
Luke 10, 1-9: The Harvest is Great, the Laborers are Few

The Gospel today gives us a wider mission: as workers for the harvest. This mission is intended not just for special people like priests and nuns, but for all of us. You see the Gospel mentions “seventy men” who were sent by Jesus. The number 70 was for the Jews symbolic. It was held that during Jesus’ time that there were 70 nations in the world. And thus, Luke whose Gospel we read today used the number 70 to mean that the mission of Jesus is for all nations; and therefore, the mission is for all of us. We are sent that all people will hear about Jesus, love Jesus and follow Jesus. Secondly, it also means that the harvest is assured. What are needed are laborers to harvest. We can be laborers. But what can be harvested, and how can we harvest? What can be harvested are blessings or graces; and thus we harvest by receiving our blessings.

Most of us have been given many more blessings than we have received. We do not take time to be blessed or make the space for it. We may have filled our lives so full of other things that we have no room to receive our blessings. Blessings are all over our lives, but they are waiting for our time and our attention for them to enter our hearts.

Martin Buber reminds us that just to live is holy. Just to be as we are is a blessing. If he is right, what prevents us from receiving our blessings? I believe it is not the lack of time. Often times we may have not realized or recognized a blessing when it is given or we may have ideas about how life should be, how people should behave, how events should have happened that keep us from experience life as it should be. We may have frozen ourselves in the past that we believe that what we had experienced before, our past decisions which made us who we are, our past triumphs should and must always happen to those who come after us, particularly our children. It is often difficult to accept that their dreams are not the same as our dreams, their decisions are not the same us our choices, and the events that happen to them are not the same as the struggles we had encountered. But being frozen and being caught up in the past shields us from receiving the blessings of the present. Or, we may become so caught up with what is missing in the world, what is lacking in people, what is events should have never have happened, that we allow our hearts to break, that we may have felt empty in the midst of all our graces.

We can bless others only when we feel blessed ourselves. Blessing life sometimes means that we should learn how to celebrate life than how to fix it. With a lot of darkness in the world, we may have lost our eye for joy. Often we look and judge life in order to move things forward, or we may have let our anger change the world, and we may have been too critical of others including our children and co-workers, hoping that our being critical of them will change them and their decisions. To receive our blessings often means having the humility to accept that we cannot change the world, or restore the world alone.

I guess this is what it means about Jesus’ saying that the harvest is plenty but the laborers are few. The laborers are few because there are many things that shield us from recognizing our harvest. Some blessings do go when not recognized at the right time. A good friend is right in front of you, but you let them pass. A deeper relationship is right ahead of us only if we take a 360-degree turn of telling the truth about how one feels, but we let it go afraid the present relationship might change. An opportunity to be closer to a loved one comes right by and we let them pass because our fears to express our love prevent us from expressing them. Only to realize that receiving the blessing is too late. As Peter Parker said in Spiderman II, “In doing the right thing, sometimes we need to sacrifice our dreams.” Let me add, “In order to love someone as dearly as possible, sometimes we need to sacrifice our work and our one way of dealing with life.”

Sometimes our wounds open us to see our blessings and thus see different ways of receiving such blessings. People who have suffered serious illnesses and great tragedies often have let go a great deal, but their wounds have allowed them to realize what and who is more important to them.

Therefore, as laborers, let us harvest our blessings by opening our eyes to see them in our lives. We desire the greatest blessing possible. Well, in Latin, desiderie or desire means to be beside the stars. To be beside our blessings.

The Conversion of St. Paul

25 January 2006: Feast of the Conversion of St. Paul

The readings especially from the Acts of the Apostles (22:3-11) tell us about conversion. St. Paul relates his radical conversion to us: after persecuting those who believed in Jesus, Paul proceeded to Damascus, where a blinding light from heaven shown about him. Paul heard a voice, asking him why he was persecuting him, and then identified himself as Jesus of Nazareth. From then on, Paul became one of the greatest apostles to the Gentiles. His contribution to Christianity is that he paved the way for Christianity to be a universal Church: its members did not only include Jews but foreigners or Gentiles as well. We are product of Paul’s conversion.

However, it is rare that we experienced the radical conversion of Paul. Not one of us, I am sure, has experienced a blinding light, and yet we are challenged to reform our lives. David Whyte, once wrote a poem entitled, “Self-Portrait” that can lead us to the first step of conversion. He wrote “Self-Portrait” after looking in the mirror one morning. It was one of those mornings where, something was telling him to stand up, to wake up, and be honest about what his life was leading him to be and do. This is his poem:

It doesn’t interest me if there is one God or many gods. I want to know if you belong or feel abandoned. If you know despair or can see it in others. I want to know if you are prepared to live in the world with its harsh need to change you. If you can look back with firm eyes saying this is where i stand.

I want to know if you know how to melt into that fierce heat of living falling toward the center of your longing. I want to know if you are willing to live, day by day, with the consequence of love and the bitter unwanted passion of you sure defeat. I have heard, in that fierce embrace, even the gods speak of God.

What do we see when we stumble out of bed in the morning and gaze in the mirror? What do those lines, those eyes --- the way we hold our head --- our familiar face reflect to us of the heart and soul of our life? What does it say about what matters to us, about how open we are to the questions in our hearts? Or is our image of ourselves shaped instead by a mask of acquired opinions about us, what others say we are?

Whyte poem starts with a fierce declaration, that he has no interest in one god or many gods (god here is in small letters). He is not interested in religious and philosophical positions --- whether you are Buddhist, a Muslim, an atheist, an existentialist, etc. Often our responses when someone asks us are a litany of the things we do, or have, or believe: I’m an artist, a Christian, a Buddhist, I am poor, I am rich, may trabaho. I love badminton, poetry, Mozart. Ayoko sa gobyerno at sa illegal logging.

They are irrelevant when we gaze into the truth of life. Confronted with ourselves in the mirror, what we might see, if we are willing to look, are the feelings that run deep in our veins and leave their mark in our eyes, in the set of our jaw, on our every word and gesture. Conversion begins with this first step: what is the truth of your life. Do you feel, as Whyte said, you belong to your life? Are you at peace? Sometimes, even when we are old, we are not at peace with who we are. In another poem, “Sweet Darkness”, Whyte urges us to: Give up all the other worlds, except the one to which you belong.

That is what Jesus asked of Paul: Give up all the other worlds, even all that you have formerly believed, and take the one to which you belong, Jesus, in whom you belong. We all hope that when we sincerely would like to be converted, we choose what Paul has chosen, and abandon all other worlds, and choose which and to whom we belong. And then, in love, everyone speaks of God.

Kinship in the Eyes of God

24 January 2006: Tuesday of the 3th Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 3, 31-35: True Kith and Kin

This passage seems tragic: not Jesus’ nearest and dearest relatives were rejected by Jesus, saying “my mother and my brothers are those who do the will of my Father in heaven.” However, we also see that Jesus’ nearest and dearest relatives did not quite understand him. In John 7, 5, we read that “Even his brothers did not believe in him” and in Mark 3, 21, we encounter that his friends tried to restrain him, for they said that he was mad. He seemed to them that Jesus was throwing his life away with what he was doing.

Nevertheless, Jesus presents to us a practical truth: that we actually find ourselves closer to people who do not belong to our kinsfolk. The reality is that sometimes the deepest friendships are not blood relationships. They are our relationships with whoever connects with us: mind to mind, heart to heart. They are with people who share our common interests, common goals, common principles, or those who compliment them. Thus there are friends who like each other’s company because they are of opposite poles. It is in this sharing that they become truly kith and kin.

So today, let me present to you several themes and see who among your acquaintances --- or relatives for that matter ---- fall under people whom you can consider kith and kin. What constitutes kith and kin?

1. Family background. My friend knows something about my family background. He has visited my home, knows some of my siblings, or just heard me talk about my childhood and adolescent years. He has some understanding of why I am the way I am. Does my friend know my family history?
2. My current life situation. My friend knows what is going on in my life here and now, my joys and struggles in living everyday life, my worries and what occupies my time. Which among my friends are most familiar with my current life situation?
3. My inmost desires. My friend knows about my goals, directions and more importantly my desires as a person. As I share with him these desires, he is willing to offer encouragement, clarification, and when necessary, challenge. Which among my friends do I turn to when needing to share the deeper longings of my heart?

From St. Francis Xavier to St. Ignatius of Loyola: “Your holy Charity (Ignatius) writes to me of the great desires which you have to see me before you leave this life. God our Lord knows the impression which these words of great love made upon my soul and how many tears they cost me every time that I remember them.”

4. My negative feelings. With a friend, I am more willing to ventilate and share my negative feelings or doubts about a wide variety of matters. I feel “safe” in sharing such concerns and feelings. Whom among my friends do I trust enough to freely share my negative feelings?
5. Wishing the good of the other. I genuinely wish the good of my friend. If his “good” means our separation geographically or even his departure from my barkada, then, even though it costs me personal pain, I wish it for him. Do my actions and attitudes convey to my friend a genuine desire for what is best for him?

6. Challenge. I am more comfortable (as is my friend) when we do this with one another, since our life histories together grant permission for such mutual intrusion. To challenge in other for both of us to grow. How comfortable am I with lovingly challenge and give feedback as well as accepting challenge and feedback from my friend?
7. Positive feelings. The predominant feeling emanating from this friendship is positive: a friend stirs in my feelings of joy and gratitude. In turn, my positive feelings become my motivating factors that energize my endeavors, my studies, my other relationships. Do my positive feelings when experiencing this friendship leave me more grateful for my life?
8. Discreet silence. Just as we might know what to say to a friend, we also know what not to say. Part of friendship is an awareness of what need not be mentioned or discussed. This is totally different from the common notion that one becomes a friend unless one shares “everything” and “every little secret.” When with my friend, do I have an intuitive sense of what not to say as wells as of what to say? Do I abstain from raising certain issues that need not be mentioned at that time, and perhaps need best to postpone it some other time when my friend is ready for it?
9. Disclosing personal secrets. My friend knows things about my life that are reserved for a select few. What do I share with my friend? Do I know him as well as I would like to? Are there areas we avoid speaking about?
10. Spiritual life. We engage is spiritual conversation, encourage one another to speak of matters that concern faith and the longings of our souls that includes each other’s spiritual struggles and desires. This friendship enriches my solitude, for it leads me to be more self-aware and creative about my life and desires. With whom in my numerous friends can I share my spiritual life? How am I different now because of this friend of mine?

*my brothers (the 4th and the youngest)

The Number Six

22 January 2006: 3^rd Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jonah 3, 1-5, 10; 1 Corinthians 7, 29-31, Mark 1, 14-20

I found this story from the book, “With Eyes Fixed on Jesus” by Fr. John Chambers SJ. He reflected on the second reading, 1 Corinthians 7, 29-31 by giving us the story of St. Henry. Though I have two other homilies below (one in English, the other in Filipino) I guess this is a good story when our congregations are sleepy --- and you want things short and brief. I am reprinting it here.

Nine hundred years ago, there was a young nobleman in Southern Germany. He was called Henry, the Duke of Bavaria. One evening, Henry had a dream in which he saw the number six written on the wall.

When he woke from his dream, he was convinced that the dream meant that he had but six days to live. He decided to put his life in order. He arranged his papers, paid his debts, forgave his enemies, and tried to be kind to all. He was very happy with the change in his lifestyle. But at midnight, at the end of the sixth day, the tower bell sounded... bong! bong! bong! And Henry, the Duke of Bavaria, didn’t die.

“What happened?” said Henry. “I have miscalculated. Now I know what the number six meant. It meant that I will die in six weeks. What shall I do now, for the remaining five weeks?”

Henry was aware of the big change in his life, and the added joy that came with that change. And so he called, “I will continue on the course that I started six days ago.” Henry continued, and he grew in happiness. But midnight of the sixth week came and the tower bell rang again. Bong! Bong! Bong! And Henry, the Duke of Bavaria, did not die.

He now knew that the number six is in fact six months. He had more time. During this time he became King Henry of Germany. But at the end of the sixth month, he didn’t die.

So King Henry thought it might mean six years. So he continued with his new ways, and in the meantime, became Emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. At midnight, the last bell tower sound, Henry did not die.

St. Paul said in the 2^nd Reading that time is short. If we put St. Henry’s life in order, then it might make us happy! And even saints! We must not move when it is too late. It is always profitabe to take the opportunities to serve right away and to risk it. Shakespeare said it well in Measure for Measure (Act 1, Scene 3), “Our doubts are traitors, and make us lose the good we ought might win, by fearing to attempt.”

*picture by Neo Saicon SJ

The Strange and Ordinary Are Called

22 January 2005: 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Mark 1, 14-20: The Call of the Disciples

The Gospel tells us of how Jesus chose his disciples. It is interesting to see why Jesus chose them, because it is for the same reasons that Jesus needs us today.

First, the Gospel of Mark tells us that he chose them that they might be with him. It means two things.

a. To be his friends. Jesus needs human relationships. The essence of Christian faith is actually God wanting us to His friend. In Exodus, God calls the people of God, his friends. Jesus calls said, “You are not anymore slaves, but my friends.”

b. To continue the work he has began. Since the disciples spent time with Jesus, the disciples were then asked them to be his witnesses. Their lives become living testimonies of his work. They were to be his companions so that some day they will be able to take his message to all peoples.

Second, Jesus chose them from his disciples. The word disciple means a learner. There were to be those who were always learning more and more about him. A Christian is a person whose whole life is spent learning about the Lord who eventually teaches about him. They say that those who say that they love someone, but do not know them --- e.g. biodata, likes and dislikes, etc. --- is a liar.

Third, Jesus chose them to be his apostles. The Greek word, apostolos, means someone who is sent out. And thus, an apostle is send out on a mission; to embody the person who he is sent.

Who are thus sent?

First the apostles like Simon Peter, James, John, and Andrew were ordinary persons. They were not wealthy, famous, influential, learned, no special education, people of the common folk. It is like Jesus telling us, “Give me twelve ordinary men and I will change the world.”

Second, they were a strange mixture. Matthew was a tax-collector, Simon was a zealot. The tax collectors were working under the Roman government, while the Zealots were fanatical nationalists who were out to assassinate every Roman and every traitor such as the tax collectors. It is a miracle that these two were together, and it is safe to imagine them quarrel over political prejudices. It is the love of Jesus that they were brought together, and live together, and work together for the Kingdom of God. I guess each of these disciples despite their varied personalities all had a "good news" experience.

We too have these 'good news' experiences that makes us happy. When people who came to mass during the bar examinations received the news that they have passed, they felt that they were walking on clouds. One lawyer said that she gave P100.00 bills to children whom she saw while telling them that she is now a lawyer. Or the day when the person you're courting tells you that she loves you too. Or, when one sees a celebrity. Or a prisoner is released. Or a medical procedure has been successful. We feel that all else are insignificant, and only this thing matters. We hardly noticed the rain or the traffic or problem previously bugging us.

Thus, this is the Good News: all of us---- ordinary or famous, learned or not --- are called to become Jesus’ disciples. We all possess the capacity to be his friend. As disciples, all we need is to learn about him through Scriptures and our constant prayers. And as Christ’s apostles, we should remember that all of us are called to preach the Good News through our lives.

*picture by Neo Saicon SJ

Ang Tawag ni Hesus sa mga Alagad

January 22, 2006: 3^rd Sunday of Ordinary Time
Mark 1, 14-20: Ang Pagtawag sa mga Alagad

Ating suriin ang napakayamang kuwento ng pagtawag ni Hesus sa kanyang mga alagad.

Una, ang mga alagad ni Hesus ay mga karaniwan at simpleng tao. Sila ay mga mangingisda. Ayon kay Josephus, isang pantas ng kasaysayan, tatlong daan at tatlumpung bangka ng mga mangingisda ang pumapalaot araw-araw. Samakatuwid, si Simon Pedro at si Andres, si Santiago at Juan na mga mangingisda ay mga karaniwang tao, hindi mga pulitiko, mga mayayaman, o mga may pinag-aralan. Wika ni Abraham Lincoln, “Mahal ng Panginoon ang mga karaniwang tao, marami Siyang ginagawang tulad nila.”

Pangalawa, tinawag ni Hesus ang kaniyang mga alagad sa gitna ng kanilang pangingisda, sa gitna ng kanilang pagtatrabaho. Nangangahulugan na ang tawag ng Panginoon ay walang pinipiling panahon, walang pinipiling oras. Kahit saan, kahit kailan, ano man ang ating ginagawa kung nanaisin ng Panginoon na tumawag, Siya ay kakatok sa ating puso.

Pangatlo, ang tawag ni Hesus ay kaakit-akit. Wika niya, “Sumunod kayo sa akin at gagawin ko kayong mga mangingisda ng tao.” At iniwan ni Simon Pedro at Andres ang kanilang lambat at nagsisunod sa kanya. Likas na ang tawag ng Panginoon sa ating buhay ay kalugod-lugod at nakakabighani. Ngunit, hindi namimilit sa kanyang panghihikayat. Mayroon tayong taglay na kakayahang sumunod o tumanggi sa kanya.

Panghuli, ang tawag ng Panginoon ay may kasamang responsibilidad o gawain. Ang tawag ng Panginoon ay sadyang nangangailangan ng taos-pusong pagtalima at pag-aalay ng buong buhay. Upang mahikayat natin ang mga taong sumampalataya sa Panginoon, ang buhay sana natin ay puspos ng Espiritu ng Diyos. Makita nawa sa ating buhay ang ating Panginoon na nananahan sa ating puso. Kasabay nito, mamulat nawa tayo sa pananahan ng Panginoon sa lahat ng tao.

Kaya, maaari nating tanungin ang ating sarili: Ano ang aking sariling kuwento ng pagtawag ng Panginoon? Paano ba ako tinawag ng Panginoon? Ano sa aking tingin ang pinapagawa ng Panginoon sa akin?

* picture by Neo Saicon SJ

Hungry for God

19 January 2006: Thursday of the 2nd Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 3, 7-12: The hungry crowd

The Gospel that we heard today is a very familiar scene. Jesus leaves the synagogue, away from his detractors, and then discovers Himself in a place teeming with hungry people--- not just of those who are physically hungry, but those who are in great need--- the sick, the suffering, the demon-possessed, those who are hungry for spiritual matters. Indeed, people without a shepherd.

As I prayed over this passage today, I find myself like all of these people hungry for Jesus, in great need of God. I was not like his disciples who are always with Him. You may be very surprised because priests are supposed to be closest to Jesus, using the real meaning of what the unclean spirits were shouting: the sons of God. You see, in the ancient times, sons of God literally mean those who are close to God. In Genesis and the book of Job, they are the angels; In Exodus and Hosea, the chosen nation, Israel, is regarded as the son of God (“Israel is my first-born son” Ex 4, 22); In 2 Samuel 7, 14, the king is the son of God (“I will be His father, and he will be my son.”); and in the later books like Sirach, the good man is the son of God. Anyone who is especially near and close to God is a “son”. In the New Testament, Paul calls Timothy, who is not his biological son, as “son” because Timothy knew his mind. Peter also calls Mark, his son, because no one can interpret his mind so well. Priests are supposed to be especially close to God, because I am suppose to know in some way the mind of God as Timothy is to Paul, and Mark is to Peter; I am supposed to explain what God has to say for us now. And yet, I find myself in prayer like those who are in great need to God.

Jesus promised that if we have the purity of heart, we shall see God. What, exactly, blocks this purity of heart? Why do we so often confuse the experience of God with our own projects and self-interests? Especially for many religious who have often rationalized, “my work is my prayer” or “every thing anyway is for God”.

In the birth of philosophy, ancient Greece crystallized much of its philosophy and religious wisdom in many of their myths. One such myth is the myth of Narcissus, the son of the river god, Cephissus. Narcissus was a youth of surpassing beauty and vanity that a mountain nymph, Echo, fell in love with him. But he was so full of himself and cold to her that Echo because just a mere voice. Because of this, the god Nemesis determined to punish Narcissus by having him drink from a pool of water in which he could see himself. Overwhelmed by his own beauty, he eventually fell in love with himself and became obsessed with his own beauty, that he became paralyzed by his obsession, and because a flower which still bears his name.

This image explains to us, as Freud explains, why there is much emptiness in our hearts. We are obsessed with ourselves. Just observe how many times we use the pronoun I, me, and myself. Just tally how many times we say declarations like this, “This is my life, this is my love”, “Why are you concerned about my life. Rene Descartes searched for the indubitable starting point for his philosophy, and until he came to a reality that he could not doubt: “I think, therefore, I am!” In Descartes’ mind, what we can be sure of, what we know is real, is ourselves. Descartes’ philosophy lives in us when we say, “I think, therefore, I am... my heartaches, my headaches, my problems, my wounds, my financial shortages, my grades, my achievements, my tasks, my worries are all real. Other people’s lives and the larger community and its concerns are not as real.” And thus, many of our lives are hooked into our own pursuits of excellence, material comfort, and hunger to come up the ladder of success. And we find ourselves hungry than ever, empty than ever. There is a pining loneliness in us that we seek to find happiness in fleeting enjoyments and pleasures. And thus, born to this generation, I and all of us are all seeking for Jesus. We pray that Jesus may heal us of our narcissism.

Grave Human Need

18 January 2006: Wednesday of the 2nd Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 3, 1-6 The Healing of the Man with the Paralyzed Hand

Mark tells us the story of Jesus healing a man in the synagogue who had a paralyzed hand. The Greek word used to describe the man’s condition tells us that he was not born with a paralyzed hand. There is a Gospel according to the Hebrews which tells us that the man was a stone mason and that he sought Jesus’ help to restore his livelihood because he was ashamed to beg. His withered hand was a cause of a disease. However, it was the Sabbath, and it was forbidden to heal, because healing is considered work.

For a modern mind such as ours, the strict Jew’s regard for the Sabbath is difficult to comprehend. Let us just put it that a serious Jew would follow the law in its definite and detailed form, and following the law was regarded as obedience to God. Our historian, Josephus, tells us to what extent the strict Jews would respect the Sabbath. In the wars of the Maccabees, the Jewish rebels hid in caves. The Syrian soldiers gave the Jews a chance to surrender, but they would not. So they fought against them on the Sabbath. There was no resistance: the entrances of the caves were not blocked, they did defended themselves, and so they were burned. They cannot break their regard for the Sabbath. Second, the Roman accounts tell us that they have to exempt Jews in military service, because when a battle day falls on a Sabbath, they will not fight.

By healing on a Sabbath, in full view of the Sanhedrin who was there to judge anyone who might mislead people and the Pharisees, Jesus placed himself in a dangerous position to assert a very important principle which is overlooked: that any human act to meet any human need is lawful on the Sabbath. By healing the man with the withered hand, Jesus gave him back his livelihood and thus his life.

It is quite easy to agree with the principle; it quite different when human need stares at our face. A friend emailed these pictures of grave human suffering. I would like you to look closely at these pictures, be aware of your feelings and what your feelings are driving you to do or not to do.

Jesus puts the needs of the man before the ‘rules’ of religion, and he is fearless in challenging an unjust law. Where do ‘the rules’ and the needs of people around me come in the list of my priorities?

The Sabbath Laws and the 4th Wise Man

17 January 2005: Tuesday of the 2nd Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 2, 23-28: The Sabbath

There are many things which we mechanically and brainlessly do: not for what it was originally meant but because we have been accustomed by it. Often we remember how things are done, but never why it was done. For example, have you ever asked why the priest after the offertory procession washes his hands? In the olden times, the priest received gifts literally from the produce of the land: fruits, crops, animals, etc. Usually the gifts were dirty, thus the priest had to wash his hands. Now the gifts are clean, and yet the ritual of washing hands was retained. The Gospel today tells us that Jesus’ disciples began to pluck corn to eat them. On ordinary days, the disciples were doing what was freely permitted, but on a Sabbath when all work was forbidden, the disciples broke all the rules and regulations on which the Sabbath was held. Jesus insisted that human need took precedence over human and divine law.

This is a great lesson for many of us in UP. First, we remember that religion does not consist in rules and regulations. Christianity should be freeing not restricting. Being Catholic does not mean attending plain rituals. If we forget love and forgiveness, service and mercy that are at the very heart of our faith, and replace them by the performance of rules and regulations--- the length of the skirt, that chalices and tabernacles should be gold, that the best way is receiving communion by the mouth, that sinners have no right to enter the Church --- then religion is at the decline. We forget the first letter of Paul to the Corinthians (1 Cor 12-13): “If I speak in human and angelic tongues, but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophesy, and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” Our religion is founded primarily on love; and the best way to use sacred things is to use them to help our fellow men and women.

There is a story of the Fourth Wise Man. His name was Artaban. He set out to follow the star and he took with his a sapphire, a ruby and a pearl beyond price as gifts for the King. He was riding hard to meet his three friends, Caspar, Melchor and Balthasar, at the agreed place. The time was short; they would leave if he was late. Suddenly, he saw a dim figure on the ground before him. It was a traveller stricken with fever. He stayed to help the traveller and healed the man. But then he was a alone, he had missed his friends and their caravan. He had to sell the sapphire to get them; and he was sad because the Kind would never have his gem.

He journeyed on and in due time came to Bethlehem, but again he was too late. Joseph and Mary and the baby had gone. Then there came the soldiers to carry out Herod’s command that the children should be slain. Artaban was in ah house where there was a little child. The soldiers came to the door; the weeping of stricken mothers could be heard. Artaban stood in the doorway with the ruby in his hand and bribed the captain not to enter. The child was saved, the mother was overjoyed; but the ruby was gone; and Artaban was sad because the King would never have his ruby.

For years he wandered looking in vain for the King. More than thirty years afterwards he came to Jerusalem. There was a crucifixion that day. When Artaban heard about Jesus, he sounded like the Kind and went to Calvary. Maybe his pearl, the loveliest in all the world, could buy the life of the King. Down the street came a girl fleeing from a band of soldiers. “My father is in debt, and they are taking me to sell as a slave to pay the debt. Save me!” Artaban hesitated; then sadly he took out his pearl, gave it to the soldiers and bought the girl’s freedom.

On a sudden the skies were dark, and there was an earthquake, and a flying object hit Artaban’s head. He sank half-conscious to the ground. The girl pillowed his head on her lap, and heard what Artaban said, “When did I saw you hungered and I fed You? When did I saw you a stranger and I took you in? Thirty years and three years have I looked for You, but I have never seen Your face, nor ministered to You, my King.” And then like whisper, there came a voice, “Amen I say to You, what you have done to the least of my brethren, you have done it to Me.” And Artaban smiled in death because he knew that the King had received all his gifts.

And so my dear friends: let us look at how we regard people and friends. When we attend mass every day, what comes to our mind? Do we first notice how inappropriate the dress that some of our mass goers wear? Do we feel so troubled that the priest did not kneel, but rather bowed in reverence? In our organizations, do we have violent reactions to changing traditions when change is actually needed for the sake of the present need of the present generation? Or, do we seek Jesus in all of our lives, in the need of others, in the faces of our neighbors. This is not to say that rituals are not important, but the Gospels tell us that over and above form is substance; over and above ritual, is its meaning; over and above the letter of the law, is the spirit of the law; over and above all systems, is the need of each person. The Sabbath is made for man; and not man for the Sabbath.

To Celebrate Simple Things

15 January 2005: Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mark 10, 13-16: Feast of the Sto. Nino, Proper Feast in the Philippines

It was natural that Jewish mothers should wish their children to be blessed by a great and distinguished Rabbi especially on their 1^st birthday. It was in this way that they brought the children to Jesus on this day. And Jesus said, “Let the children come to me.” This tells us a great deal about Jesus: he was a person who likes children, and whom children also cared for. What is it about children that Jesus liked and valued so much?

I believe it is the child’s trust. There is a time when children think his father knows best. They go through their life with the complete thought that no matter what befalls them, there is someone whom they can go back to, someone who loves and cares for them no matter what. This child who has acquired such an attitude grows up confident and hopeful; no matter what befalls them, they have completely placed themselves totally in the hands of their parents. So it is with our God. Teresa of Avila said, “Let nothing disturb you. Let nothing affright you. All things are passing. God only is changeless. Patience gains all things. He who has God wants nothing. God alone suffices.” To be willing to be in another’s hands, especially in God’s hands, to be open to surprises and gifts we never dreamed possible, is the gift of a child.

Thus, to have the attitude of a child means to re-develop in us the ability to wonder and to celebrate the simple things in life. Yesterday, the pre-novices went to their community sports and played “agawan base.” The college seminarians of San Jose Seminary are known to be the noisiest in their recreation because they play “hide and seek”. Lifestyle Channel tells us that the source of much serenity and happiness are in the simple things, and thus invites one to “go back to the basics.” Many of us have to look into the things that make us happy: many of our recreation are complicated and expensive, as if happiness is so fleeting, it comes with a price.

The feast of the Sto. Nino teaches us that we can learn from children. It takes an eye to celebrate each day. Amanda Bradley, said, “Make every day a holiday... celebrate blue skies, celebrate the trees and grass, the bees and the butterflies. Celebrate the birds that sing and the flowers that smell so sweet, the sun up high above your head, the earth beneath your feet. And celebrate the smiles you see, the cheerful words you hear, celebrate each moment that you spend with loved ones near. Celebrate the happiness that friends are always giving... Make every day a holiday, and celebrate... just living!

However many of us get bored of being children. We are in a rush to grow up, and then we long to be children again. The feast of the Sto. Niño should remind us who we are: that we are children of God, and thus we should trust Him at all times. Second, the feast of the Sto. Niño should remind us to celebrate the simple things in life, to make every day a celebration.

Saved by One's Friends

13 January 2005: Friday of the First Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 2, 1-12: Healing of the Paralyzed Man

William Butler Yeats said: “Think where man’s glory most begins and ends and say my glory was I had such friends.” I guess the paralyzed man whom Jesus healed may have said what Yeats would say several hundred years after. It was because of his friends that he was healed. Jesus saw their faith! His friends did everything in their power for his healing. As it was impossible to bring him close to Jesus, they removed that part of the flat Palestinian roof and lowered the paralyzed man to where Jesus was teaching.

Friends are essential in our well-being. We need friends because we are human and we are human before we are anything else. Our Christian life is based on our friendship with Christ. At the washing of the feet, Christ calls us his friends. As companions of Christ, we are therefore asked to share in his task: to serve others and make them our friends. Thus we must center our energies and focus to the generative pursuit of service and the quality of our relationship with others. Friendship exists when each of us holds each other close to our hearts.

How important are friendships in our life and in our faith?

First, as the paralyzed man had entrusted his whole self to his friends, my friends allow me to be who I am. I am comfortable and open with them. They are more aware of my humanness, more capable of considering possibilities and alternative ways of seeing through the layers of masks and deceptions, and because of the time we have spent together, they would have certain insights about myself which others will not be able to see. My experience of friendship has brought me back to my roots, being at home, less defensive and self-preserving. It is often true that our friends know our secrets than our parents. Our friends accept us. And because of this confidence, our friendships can bring out our deepest longings.

Second, my friends give me hope. They make me a hopeful person. When we leave the university, we discover so many things that shock us, hurt us, and disillusion us. These harsh experiences of real life often paralyze us. A heart broken person does not know how to move on without the person he loves. An employee falsely accused by her boss does not know how to continue relating with her. A student discovering certain truths about his family finds himself in a helpless situation. And someone finds oneself lonely even in a crowded dormitory. It is at these times that we long for another to talk to, someone who can listen to us, thus our friends come in handy. In some mysterious ways, our friendship offers hope amidst the cynicism and disillusionment. Just knowing that we have friends inspires us to move on and continue the work the Lord has given us. St. Francis Xavier wrote St. Ignatius about this:

“You write me of the great desire which you have to see me before you leave this life. God our Lord knows the impression which these words of great love made upon my soul and how many tears they cost me every time that I remember them.”

Third, my friendships are generative. When I am enriched humanly by my friends, and like love, we are able to nourish other relationships as well as our relationship with the Lord who sustains the friendship. Our friends know who we are. And in certain experiences, they are able to probe into our deepest selves, sharing our pains and our joys, and at the same time, challenge us to go beyond ourselves and to pursue our dreams. Friends help us build our own lives. In building our own lives, they direct us towards the ideals that brought us together and made us friends. Every friendship should bring us closer to God. Friendship gives us a concrete experience of God. No wonder that those who do not have the authentic experience of friends, find is difficult to relate to Christ who offers his friendship to us. The experience of human friendships makes it easier for one to pray to a personal and loving God. St. Robert Southwell SJ, once wrote:

“If you love a friend so much, if he or she is so attractive that everything he asked of you, you would agree to; and if it is so sweet to sit and talk with him, describe your mishaps to him --- then with how much more trust should you betake yourself to God, the God of goodness, converse with him, show him your weakness and distress, for he has greater care of you than you have of yourself, indeed he is more intimately you than you are.”

Think therefore of what friends the paralyzed man had. They cared so much about him and believed so much on Jesus’ power to heal him that they did all they could for him to get to Jesus. It was because of their faith that the paralyzed man was healed. His friends knew who he was and they clearly loved him. His friends brought him the hope of healing from his paralysis. And finally, his friends helped him build his life once again by bringing him closer to God.

Let me end with a story from Fr. Bausch about old Mrs. Hildebrand as recounted by Robert Smith of Pennsylvania.

It's been many years since I saw her, but in memory she's still there every holiday season. I especially feel her presence when I receive my first Christmas card. I was only twelve years old and Christmas was only a few days away, and the season's first blanket of white snow magnified the excitement. I dressed hurriedly because the snow out there was waiting for me. What would I do first? Build a snowman? Slide down the hill? Throw some flakes in the air and let them flutter down? Well, our family station wagon pulled into the driveway and Mom called me over to help her with the groceries. When we finished that, she said, "Bob, here are Mrs. Hildebrand's groceries." No other instructions were necessary. As far back as I could remember, Mom shopped for Mrs. Hildebrand's food and I delivered it. Our ninety-five-year old neighbor lived alone. She was crippled with arthritis, and she could only take a few steps with a cane. I liked Mrs. Hildebrand. I enjoyed talking with her. More accurately, I enjoyed listening to her.

She told me wonderful stories about her life, about a steeple church in the woods, horse and buggy rides on Sunday afternoons, and her family farm that had no electricity or running water. She always gave me a dime for bringing in her groceries. It got so that I would refuse only half-heartedly, knowing she would insist, and five minutes later I would be across the street at Beyer's Candy Store. As I headed over with the grocery bags that day, I decided I wouldn't accept any money from Mrs. Hildebrand. This would be my present to her. So, impatiently, I rang the doorbell. "Come in," she said cheerfully, "put the bag on the table." I did so more hurriedly than usual because I could hear the snow calling me back outside. She sat at the table, picked up the items out of the bag and told me where to set them on the shelves. I usually enjoyed doing this, but it was snowing! As we continued, I began to realize how lonely she was. Her husband had died some twenty years before. She had no children. Her only living relative was a nephew in Philadelphia who never came to visit her. Nobody even called on her at Christmas. There was no true, no presents, and no stockings. For her, Christmas was just another date on the calendar. She offered me a cup of tea which she did every time I brought in the groceries. "Well," I thought, "maybe the snow could wait a bit." We sat and talked about what Christmas was like when she was a child.

Together we traveled back in time, and an hour passed before I knew. "Well, Bob," she said, "you must be wanting to play outside in the snow," as she reached for her purse, fumbling for the right coin. "No, no, Mrs. Hildebrand. I can't take your money this time. You can use it for more important things," I insisted. She looked at me and smiled. "What more important thing could I use this money for, if not to give it to a friend at Christmastime?" She placed a whole quarter in my hand. I tried to give it back, but she would have none of it.

I hurried out the door and ran over to Beyer's Candy Store with my fortune. I had no idea what to buy --- a comic book, a chocolate soda, ice cream. And then I spotted a Christmas card with an old country church on its cover. It was just like the church Mrs. Hildebrand described to me, and I knew I had to buy it. I handed Mr. Beyer my quarter and borrowed a pen to sign my name. "For you girlfriend?" Mr. Beyer teased. I started to say no but quickly changed my mind. "Well, yeah," I said, "I guess so."

As I walked across the street with my gift, I was so proud of myself. I felt like I'd just hit a home run in the World Series. I rang Mrs. Hildebrand's doorbell. "Hello, Mrs. Hildebrand," I said, and handed her my card, "Merry Christmas." Her hands trembled as she slowly opened the envelope, studied the card, and began to cry. "Thank you. Thank you very much," she said in almost a whisper, "Merry Christmas to you."

On a cold and windy afternoon a few weeks later, the ambulance arrived next door. My mom said they found Mrs. Hildebrand in bed. She had died peacefully in her sleep. Her night table light was still on when they found her and it illumined a solitary Christmas card with an old country church on the cover.

The Lepers in Ourselves

12 January 2006: Thursday of the 1st Week in Ordinary Time
Mark 1, 40-45: The Healing of the Leper

Leprosy today, thanks to MDT, is not anymore regarded as an incurable disease. But in biblical times, leprosy was regarded with abomination. Leprosy is not just the typical nodular, tubercular or anaesthetic leprosy we know today as Hansen’s disease. The Hebrew term covers a wide range of skin diseases such as an-an, buni, alipunga or had-had. Anyone covered with psoriasis, thus, was considered a leper. The discoloration of the skin turning it white, is what was referred to as “a leper as white as snow.” In the Book of Numbers (12, 9ff), the Lord made Miriam, a ‘snow-white leper’ as a punishment for her jealousy over Moses’ superior position. She said, “Is it through Moses alone that the Lord speaks? Does he not speak through us also?

Any such skin disease renders the sufferer unclean. He was banished from the fellowship of men; he must dwell alone outside the camp; and he must ward everyone of his presence with the cry, ‘Unclean, unclean.’ It is being marked with the ‘scarlet letter.’ The leper had not only to bear the physical pain of his disease; he had to bear the mental anguish and the heartbreak of being completely ostracized from human society.

There is obviously no Hansenite in many places. But we are all lepers. Sadly and unconsciously (or sometimes consciously), we accord the plight of lepers to others and, unknowingly, to ourselves for the same reasons we justify our malaise. By ostracizing others, we actually give reason for other people to shun us. We fail to see that by inflicting wounds on others, we actually infect the disease on ourselves.

In this world of psychology, everything is blamed on the complexity of our personalities and traumatic childhood experiences. But never on ourselves. If that is the case, there is practically no solution at all.

But we all know that the medications to any paranoia are the same medicines Jesus gave to the leper almost two thousand years ago: kind words and a compassionate touch. First, Jesus never drove away the leper for breaking the law. The leper has no right to talk to him and yet, Jesus met the leper’s desperate need with kindness. Second, Jesus stretched out his hand and touched him. He was not afraid to be unclean and shunned. Compassion is beyond the need to maintain a good image. Finally, Jesus sent him to fulfill the purification rituals needed for him to be accepted in the community. The shepherd brought back the lost sheep to the fold.

Perhaps today as we slip into the de more, the Ordinary Time as the liturgical calendar indicates, we begin to see beyond our own psychological leprosy, and go to those we had inflicted the disease on. People who render with kind words and touch other peoples’ hearts live genuinely happy. Totally well. And perfectly healed.

Taking Each Other's Hands

11 January 2006: Wednesday of the 1st Week of Ordinary Time
Mark 1, 29-39: The Healing Stories of Jesus

The great philosopher Victor Frankl once said, “What is to give light must first endure burning.” Indeed, the greatest healers are those who were scalded by the severest suffering. Those who fill the world with warmth are those who were scorched by emptiness. And the greatest lovers are those who were charred by the pangs of loneliness.

The theme of healing in today’s readings cry out with the reality of suffering. From the depths of his being, Job groans and complains to the Lord, the way our hearts slam at heaven’s gate asking why, amidst our efforts to love Him, we should experience so much affliction--- even more painful now than ever before.

And when Job wails, he wails with the world. The world that yearns for healing. The world that is wounded and worn, scorched and seared, charred to the bone. In television or internet news, a day does not go by without someone in one part of the world getting killed or murdered. There are days the eyes of children from war-torn countries like East Timor or Chechnya burn the pages of newspapers and magazines. Blood stains world events as fast as forest fires. And if one is lucky enough to be away from these holocausts, one is still plagued by an inner fire that eats up the very fiber of one’s existence. The wound of misery do haunt us all.

But we hear of people who rise from the very affliction that burns them. Somehow these people undergo some kind of experience that brings back the smiles in their eyes, the hope that characterizes healing. What could have happened, we can glean from the Gospel.

The Gospel speaks of the healing of Peter’s mother-in-law. It tells us that Jesus and his disciples are at the house of Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John. Nothing else. But we can dig out something more: if a dignitary or a movie star comes to visit us, we would not want to be sick. Filipino hospitality has it that the guest should be given the red-carpet treatment, we give them all that we have, all that we are. Second, it is embarassing not to be able to entertain guests. A movie star will attract attention. Having a movie star as a visitor will send people rushing to your house to get a glimpse of him/her. What will people say? I could imagine how it would be to be sick with a fever. To suffer from illness is terrible when an important guest comes unexpectedly, especially someone whom one loves.

What do we yearn when we are sick? Healing. Well-being. A certain wholeness. But how can this be possible? Can we heal ourselves? Or, do we need others to alleviate us from our suffering?

In the Gospel of Mark, we see a movement far different from the way we respond to suffering. Jesus approaches, lifts her up, and takes her by the hand. The next thing we are told, she is serving them.

The answer to suffering is Jesus’ response. Jesus approaches us. It is not us who approach Jesus first. He takes the first step. He becomes like us; he enters our suffering. He chooses to be burned and charred like the rest of us, to heal us. He empathizes and understands because he knows what it is to suffer. He is Emmanuel.

This first step is the Christian’s response to human suffering. The second reading tells us how Paul became all things to all persons. He made himself a slave of all so as to win over as many as possible. He became like a Jew in order to win the Jews. To the weak, he became a weak person with the view of winning the weak. He has done all these things for the sake of the Gospel. The first step towards healing others is to “approach the one who suffers” and to become one with him or her. To be one is to be scorched together. Burned together. Our wounds begin to heal when tissues from both sides of the cut, find and embrace each other. Luciano de Crescenzo said, “We are each of us angels with only one wing. And we can only fly embracing each other.”

Flying indeed needs the wing of another. Jesus “took the hand of Peter’s mother-in-law” and “lifted her up.” And she was healed. What happened between Jesus’ touching her hand and her being lifted up, we do not know.

But we do know what touch can do. A touch does give us some spark, gives us some hope and consolation, comfort in need. I remember when my father died. It was the darkest moment in my family’s life. If I were to describe it, it was the lowest point in our life that a scratch on the ground was all it would take to see hell. But what actually made our family strong were the hands that consoled us--- relatives and friends. The touch lightened us up--- brightened the gloom that enveloped us all. We were lifted up, almost like an earthly flight to heaven. All it took was a simple touch, a casual embrace. Tissues finding each other, embracing each other. Healing comes. Hope blooms.

However, we know that healing is never the end. When one is touched, when one is healed, there is that impulse that we too want to heal others. When a human being is in need, it is another human being’s instinct to help. And thus, the Gospel of Mark ends with this: “and she served them.” The literal sense completes the imagery of hospitality--- that of serving guests; but that is not all. We know that when we refuse the food the host prepared for us, we know that the she will be hurt. The refusal of what is offered, is a refusal of the host who is making the offer. Because the food symbolizes the host. She had given everything. That is indeed service; an enduring and endearing service by those whom Christ has healed---- by those who have endured burning and now give light.

The Power of Words

10 January 2006: Tuesday of the 1st week in Ordinary Time
Mark 1, 21-28: Jesus Launches His Public Ministry

The story of Jesus according to Mark presents some natural steps for someone who embarks on an important career. Jesus is recognized in John’s proclamation that his role was only to prepare the way for Someone greater than he. Jesus is then baptized, and then receives the blessing and recognition from God. With the Holy Spirit descending on him, Jesus is now equipped for his ministry. Then his principles are tested by the devil in the desert. From then on, he chooses his disciples to whom he would pass on his message. With all of these in place, Jesus launches his career in the synagogue.

The synagogue is a logical place for a launch. You see, when we launch our CD albums, we go where our market is. Jesus went to the synagogue. First, the synagogue is like a school: the faith is taught there. Jewish law has it that synagogues can be put up wherever there are at least ten Jewish families. A synagogue session consists of a prayer, the reading of Scripture, and then the explanation of the Scripture. Second, since people gather there, it is the perfect place for someone with a religious message.

The people who heard Jesus teach were spellbound. No one teaches with authority and power. And not just that: Jesus supported his teaching with his deeds: What he says, he does. Jesus was an excellent teacher. He profoundly affected those who listen to him and thus built a foundation for values and beliefs, our society and our way of life.

Today, we look at the teaching aspect of being Christians. We preach with our words. But only when our words are products of accumulated lessons taught, learned and lived over a lifetime, the impact of what we say is stronger and influential. Sometimes it is a phrase or a word spoken, deliberately or mindlessly, in a critical moment of vulnerability, that begins an action, adds an encouragement or the beginning of wisdom. It is what we remember and affect us in timeless ways. Someone once said that we can accelerate learning for all students, especially the problematic ones, by building relationships. Using powerful, positive words is a great way to begin a trustworthy relationship. I have a story.

A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. All the other frogs gathered around the pit. When they say how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead.

The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit with all their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died.

The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made it out.

When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?” The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him to entire time.

The words we speak are powerful. Just as Jesus’ words affect us, we too are invited to use words that will build up, not tear down, someone so that behaviors are positive. A wise teacher said that if you want to save and inspire students, you don’t have to tear down their house, but merely suggest or show them a better house in which to live. Henri Amiel once said of what teachers are: “The highest function of the teacher consists not so much in imparting knowledge as in stimulating the pupil in its love and pursuit. To know how to suggest is the art of teaching.” Jesus has given us a better alternative to just living.

It is no wonder why he healed a demon-possessed. Demons in those days are called mazzikin, one who does harm. Teaching allows us to fight against the demons of ignorance and limitations. In order to be a good ‘teacher’, whether as a parent or a friend, we help people discover their greatness and possibilities within themselves. I guess that is what we need today. We are in a world that discourages people than encouraging them. In a highly competitive world, the Christian preaches with powerful words of affirmation and compassion. And thus, we ask this question for reflection today: Do I build up people, or do I destroy them? Give concrete examples when you build up people, and when you destroy them. With words that give importance to people, all of us Christians will help build the Kingdom of God which Jesus first launched in a synagogue.

Feast of the Baptism of the Lord

9 January 2006
Mark 1, 1-11 The Baptism of the Lord

The Gospel today is the same as that of Friday, 6 January 2006: Did Jesus need John's Baptism?