God's Blinding Light

The conversion of St Paul (celebrated on 25th January) after his encounter with Christ on the road to Damascus reminds us of the famous lines from the Confessions of St Augustine, where Augustine speaks of the light that shone on us and shattered his blindness, thus giving him a totally new sight, enabling him to see things from the perspective of God. This is the same experience St Paul went through in his conversion...

Late have I loved you, O Beauty ever ancient, ever new late have I loved you. You were within me, but I was without. Unlovely, I rushed onto the lovely things you have made. You were with me, but I was not with you... You called and cried aloud, and forced open my blindness. You gleamed and shone and cahse away my blindness. You breathed fragrant odors, and I drew in my breath, and now I pant for thee. I tasted, and now I hunger and thirst. You touched me and I burnt for yoru peace! (Book 9, Chap 27).

God of New Beginnings

Each year we celebrate the feast of Sto Nino, we reflect on the God coming down to earth as a human being, as an infant. The coming of a child to a family always signals the beginning of a new chapter in that family's life. Routines change; the sleeping patterns and arrangements change; budget change. New schedules and patterns and attitudes are begun. A child brings new beginnings.

The prophet Isaiah proclaims: "The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; Upon those who dwelt in the land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing.... For a child is born to us, a son is given us..."

The feast of Sto Nino, the feast of the Christ Child reveals to us who our God is... a God of new beginnings... a God who always begins anew. Once upon a time, He began creation, but continues, or begins each day. By the incarnation, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, He began a new covenant, He re-created the world, He renewed humanity. Many times, we tried to end our relationship with God. But He always takes the initiative to begin anew.

May this feast of Sto Nino, on this New Year, inspire us to begin a new, to start a new chapter in our lives, full of hope and trust in the God of new beginnings.

An Image of Security of Self

John the Baptist is a striking image of someone who is so secure of himself that he does not claim to be who he is not. Honestly he says, "One mightier than I is coming after me. I am not worthy to stoop and loosen the thongs of his sandals." He could have taken advantage of the situation and proclaimed himself as the Messiah; but he did not.

Although he himself was unsure whether or not Jesus is the Messiah (that's why he sent his disciples to ask Jesus, "Are you the one we are waiting for or will we wait for someone else?"), still He did not claim to be the one. He know who he was and he knew where he stands. He is the best man and Jesus is the bridegroom. He is the voice and Jesus is the word.

May we know who we are, that we might know who Jesus is.

JESUS, OUR LIFE

January 1, the octave of Christmas is the feast of the Society of Jesus, because it is the day when the name "Jesus" was given to the child born on Christmas day. And our Society is named after Jesus. Hence, today, I find these words from Fr Longhaye very appropriate as matter for reflection:

Love Jesus, strive to love his adorable person passionately everyday more and more even to your last breath. study, scrutinize, dig, bring to light without ceasing both for yourself and for others His unfathomable riches. Gaze upon Him stubbornly until you know Him by heart; better yet, until you become Him, absorbed in Him. may He always be more and more the center of your thoughts, the link between all of your understandings, the practical goal of your studies whatever they may be. Make Him the morally unique aim, the overriding argument, the triumphal arm of your apostolate.

Professor, preacher, writer, missionary, who knows what?... may you have, it please God, a great and noble renown; but, obscure or celebrated, occupied in the greatest of ministries or the most humble, at least be known in your sphere of action as a man filled and possessed by Jesus Christ, as a man who, when it seems appropriate and even when it doesn't - if that is possible - speaks unceasingly of Jesus Christ and speaks of Him out of the abundance of His Heart.

Jesus Christ contemplated, Jesus Christ known, Jesus Christ loved with an ever growing passion; this will be everything for you!

Happy New Year! Happy Feastday!

They Are Families Too!

The "holy" family of Mary, Joseph and Jesus, does seem to be a difficult model to imitate and identify with. After all, Mary is full of grace. Joseph is the righteous man and Jesus, the Son of God.

But a closer look at their situation makes us realize that while they may be described as "holy", they are not "usual" or "normal" in the way we conceive a family... a child made by a husband and wife through their conjugal act. Mary got pregnant prior to their marriage, and not even by her husband Joseph (such a shameful thing to happen to a respectable woman, according to social norms). Joseph learns of the pregnancy only later. He is asked to take Mary and her child as his own (according to cultural norms for males, such a stupid thing to do; why get a "package deal" when you can get a certified virgin and make a child of your own with her). And the child, born in untimely of circumstances (while they had to travel to Bethlehem) and in the most unfavorable location, devoid of hygiene and sanitation. The child provoked conflict from the start, getting a threat from the King, and prophesied by Simeon to cause more conflicts and contradiction later on.

So what about families formed by women who get pregnant out of wedlock, ending up as single mothers, of men getting the jeers for having fallen for a woman with a child, of unwanted children, perceived as threats to security and comfort, and sources of problems and conflicts? What about families of single mothers, single fathers, childless couples, separated spouses, orphaned and abandoned children? and all those "unconventional", "un-usual", "ab-normal" families?

Happy Feastday to all families!

Silent Night, Silent God

Indeed, "silent night" is an appropriate description of the night the Son of God was born, because He is the Son of a Quiet God who prefers to act, to work, to labor, in silence.

On that first Christmas night, Bethlehem must have been a noisy, crowded, busy place because of all the natives coming home for the census ordered by Augustus, which was why Mary and Joseph did not find a vacant room to stay. They ended up in a manger, somewhere perhaps at the outskirts of the city, at the backyard of the house, away from the chatter and banter of the people. There in the obscure corner of the kingly city of David, the "Son of David", the Son of God, was born.

God does seem to love the quiet places, the hidden corners, the silent nights... there He is born, there He is to be found... there He is... to find those left out in these hidden places, those lost for having made the wrong turns in the twisted corners of life, those screaming in silence during the dark nights of their souls.

May we find the hidden God this Xmas, or rather, may we, who are hiding, be found by this God this Xmas!

A Blessed Christmas, my friend!

How Can This Be?

The iconography of the Blessed Virgin Mary usually portrays her as a demure, sweet, "Maria Clara" type girl, almost naive to a fault. She is described as a woman who readily submitted herself to the will of God that she be the mother of the Son of God.

But a close reading of the Annunciation narrative shows that she did not immediately, unthinkingly and passively just agreed to what God planned to do with her. She "wondered what this greeting meant". She thoughtfully inquired how God's plan was to be accomplished in her: "How can this be since I do not know man?" She dared to ask, to question, to probe into the ways of God. She was actively involved throughout the exchange with the angel. And all through her life as a mother, she would always be pondering, reflecting, perhaps continually asking, questioning, probing, even at the foot of the Cross. This makes her "fiat" not a blind submission to God's will, but an acceptance offered after an involved and intense 'discernment.'

May the Blessed Mother place us with her Son as we celebrate His birth this Christmas!

God Is Preparing a Place

On this Advent season, we are exhorted to make preparations for the coming of the Messiah: for His second coming at the end of time (or at the end of our time here on earth, meaning our death), as well as for the commemoration of His first coming, on Christmas Day. We are given many suggestions for spiritual preparations, which we are supposed to undertake amidst the material preparations, like putting up Xmas lights and Xmas trees, buying gifts, booking tickets for Xmas break etc.

As we make all these Advent preparations, we celebrate the solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of Mary, a feast specially celebrated in many parishes and chapels all over the country. The opening prayer for today's Mass says: "Father, you prepared the Virgin Mary to be the worthy mother of your Son. You let her share beforehand in the salvation Christ would bring by his death, and kept her sinless from the first moment of her conception. Help us by her prayers to live in your presence without sin. We ask this..."

This opening prayer reminds us how God Himself prepared the way, the place for the coming of His Son, the Redeemer. It is not the world that prepared itself or a way or a place for Christ. It is God who made the necessary preparations in the person of the Blessed Virgin Mary, so that Christ may find a fitting dwelling place when he comes to the earth.

Perhaps God does the same in our hearts. In the end, it is not we who will ultimately prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ, whether this Xmas or at the end of time. It is God who prepares a place... but we have to open our hearts and let Him come in so that He may undertake the cleansing, the healing, the washing, the purifying of our hearts, as He did to Mary.

A God Who Risks

When a woman finally accepts a marriage proposal, especially if it comes from a "less than ideal man", she is usually asked by her friends, "Are you sure of that man? Aren't you committing suicide? Are you that desperate?" But despite all badmouthing and the backbiting of the man, or perhaps, honest concern for the woman, she goes on to tie the knot with the man she believes is her Mr Right.

Perhaps, or for sure, she knows his weaknesses and limitations, and that she could be wrong, and they could be right. But never mind, she accepts him anyway. She gives him a chance. She takes the risk, for the sake of the relationship, for the sake of the man, for her own sake.

In the Gospel, the King probably knew the third servant would do as he did: kept the money, buried it, not even put in the bank so that it could earn interest, never took the risk of investing the money so that it could grow. But still, the King went on gave him a chance, took the risk with Him. In the end, however, the servant was judged appropriately.

Our God, our King... a God, a King who risks, a God who gives us the chance, to grow, to explore, to risk... despite knowing that we could fail, we could sin; but He goes on anyway, for He loves, He is Love. And only those who truly love take the chance, take the risk. And He is that God.

An Angry Christ

Can you imagine an angry Christ? We are told that the Gospel portrait of Jesus is that of a joyful and serene man. He has almost complete possession of Himself, his feelings and passions. But this Sunday's Gospel gives a another image of Jesus. It shows his other side, as it were, Jesus explicitly getting angry and being carried away by his anger that he overthrows the tables and whips the moneychangers and vendors away from the Temple.

Rather than subjecting Him to psycho-analysis, it's more beneficial to ask what triggered the anger of Jesus. The text says that the businessmen has turned the temple into a marketplace. In another Gospel, it says, the temple has been turned into a den of thieves. A Scripture scholar notes that whatr made Jesus terribly angry is that the place where the businessmen set up their tables and displayed their merchandise is the area where the poor may worship, thus depriving them of their place in the temple, a place which is actually already somewhere in the peripheries of the temple.

This connects to the second reading that says: "If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person; for the temple of God, which you are, is holy." An affront, a deprivation, desecration of the poor, who are also temples of God, and therefore holy, will certainly invite the anger, nay, the wrath of God. We hope we don't get driven out by an angry Christ. Let's make space for the poor, not only in our places of worship, but in every area of our life.

Saints with Small S

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us rid ourselves of every burden and sin that clings to us and persevere in running the race that lies before us” (Heb 12:1).

It is said that solemnity honors the saints with a small “s”, meaning, those who are not officially recognized or canonized by the Church as saints, but are truly saints because they, too, have lived according to the Beatitudes. They, too, while on earth, were spiritually poor, merciful, pure of heart, peacemakers, agents of justice. Hence, though uncanonized, they are saints, too. We, therefore, believe that they are now fully united with God in the joys of the heavenly Kingdom.

For me, those people who have touched my lives and have been partly responsible for who I am now are also included among the cloud of witnesses who inspire me to run the race with joy and enthusiasm. Among those I remember on this day are:

- Lola Pining, Lolo Isko and Lolo Julian

- Fr Lorenzo delos Santos

- Jesuits Frs Bonoan, Rooney, Sanz, Dolan, Phelan, Gaa

Who are your small saints?

Measuring Love

This Sunday's Gospel gives a tall order: to love God with all of one's heart, soul, mind and strength. We might ask whether this is possible at all when, in fact, we can not even love those around us, even our loved ones, with all our mind, soul, strength etc. Most often, our self-giving in love for them would measure up to 90 or 95% only? Indeed, as St John says, "How can you love God whom you do not see when you do not love your neighbor whom you can see?"

Precisely, that is the point. The second greatest commandment is love of neighbor, which is inseparable from love of God, for the former is the measure of the later. The first reading gives concrete guidelines regarding this: defending the orphan and the widow, lending without interest, not taking advantage of the poor.

Love of God is measurable after all. They, the poor, the needy, the widow and the orphan. They hold the measuring rod. May we not be found wanting when measured.

What More Do You Want?

"What more was there to do for my vineyard that I had not done?" (Is 5:4a) This is also the Lord's question to Israel in Micah 6:3 when He laments: "O my people, what have I done to you? In what have I wearied you? Answer me!"

If there is anything else which the Lord has not done for His people and Israel asks for it, the Lord is willing to do it, if only to strengthen their covenant relationship. But we know the answer, the Lord has done His part. He has chosen Israel, He has freed them from Egypt, brought them to the Promised Land, defended them from their enemies and the list goes on.

The Lord has done everything, while Israel has done... nothing. Instead, they killed the prophets and the rest of God's messengers. Even the Son has not been spared by their envy and greed.

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We Can Be Saints, Too!

This is a tribute to San Lorenzo Ruiz, the Phil's one and only (officially canonized) saint. While Japan, China and other non-Christian countries already have countless of martyrs, the Philippines, the only Xtian country in Asia, has only 1.

San Lorenzo Ruiz was a lay man; he was not a priest or a religious. Hence, he is one like most of many Filipino, a lay man who has a family, but was nevertheless active in Church activities. But while we only 1 officially canonized saint, don’t we have hundreds, perhaps thousands of un-official/ un-canonized saints...like Mothers praying fervently each day for your perseverance, or your lola and/ or lola who wake up much earlier than our 5 AM rising time to walk to the Church amidst the dark and cold early morning to attend Mass! Or of the kaabags and katekistas who serve your parishes gratis, without any pay! And you can multiply the examples…

If only for this, many of our lay people, more than our own selves, qualify to be called saints for they meet Lawrence Cunningham’s definition of a saint “one who is so grasped by a religious vision that it becomes central to his or her life, in a way that radically changes the person and leads others to glimpse the value of that vision.”

Onthis feast of San Lorenzo Ruiz and companion martyrs, this is our call! This is our…challenge!

Is This All There Is For Me?

"Is this all there is for me?" is the question we ask when what we receive is less than what we think we should receive. Perhaps a compliment, or a word of praise, or a pat on the back, or an applause, or a bonus. The frustration is greater and the grumbling louder when we look over the shoulder of our neighbor and discover that this guy next to us who spent less hours and energy and talent (of which we think we have more, hmm, perhaps we do!) received the same, and worse, more praise or appreciation or bonus than we did. In effect, what should have been a happy occasion of receiving from the bounty of the Master becomes a recitation of a litany of complaints and gripings against, not the injustice of the Master, but His generosity.

This is the drama of this Sunday's Parable of the Hired Tenants. The question addressed to those who complained is for us, too, "Are you jealous that I am generous?" May this Sunday be truly the Lord's Day, a day of resting in and counting of (if we can) the blessings of the all-generous Lord, whose ways may be strange, but never unjust.

The Cross is the Cure

The "cross" is usually used as a metaphor for a problem. For example, a wife will say, "My husband is my cross." Or a student, "Physics and Trigo are my crosses." However, the readings for this Sunday, the Feast of the Triumph of the Cross, show us that the Cross is not the problem. On the contrary, it the solution, it is the cure.

In the first reading, the bronze serpent mounted on the pole is the cure for the impatient Israelites who were bitten by the snakes. The serpent on the pole is a type of Jesus who would later be fixed on the Cross. When we look at the cross, we see an ever patient God who bears with all our grumblings and murmurings and complaints, many of them too petty to even mention.

As we gaze on the Cross on the feast of its exaltation, may we realize more deeply its healing power in our lives, especially for our impatience, our pettiness, our lack of faith.

We adore you, O Christ and we bless you, because by your Holy Cross, you have redeemed the world.

The Stinging Ointment of Wholesome Sorrow

Still fresh from the feastday of St. Augustine, our patron saint here in Cagayan de Oro, I quote these 2 passages from the "Confessions" which capture the message of the 1st reading and Gospel of this Sunday.

The first reading speaks of the Lord's Word burning in the heart of Jeremiah, disturbing, distressing, directing Him to speak it out. Augustine also experienced how the Lord had disturbed him "with inward stings."

But you, O Lord, abide forever, yet thou art not forever angry with us, for you have compassion on our dust and ashes (Ps. 103:9-14.) It was pleasing in your sight to reform my deformity, and by inward stings you disturbed me so that I was impatient until you were made clear to my inward sight. By the secret hand of your healing, my swelling was lessened, the disordered and darkened eyesight of my mind was from day to day made whole by the stinging ointment of wholesome sorrow (Bk 7, Ch. 8).

And the Gospel tells how a disciple of Jesus must lose his/her life that s/he might gain it. Augustine relates how he had been freed from the sweetness of trifles that had chained him, and how it brought him joy.

How sweet did it suddenly become to me to be without the sweetness of trifles! And it was now a joy to put away what I formerly feared to lose. For you cast them away from me, O true and highest Sweetness. You cast them away, and in their place you entered in Yourself--sweeter than all pleasure, though not to flesh and blood; brighter than all light, but more veiled than all mystery; more exalted than all honor, though not to them that are exalted in their own eyes. Now was my soul free from the gnawing cares of seeking and getting, of wallowing in the mire and scratching the itch of lust. And I prattled like a child to you, O Lord my God--my light, my riches, and my salvation (Bk 9, Ch 1).

Happy Weekend!

Augustine, Patron of Backsliders

Another excerpt from St Augustine's "Confessions" (Bk 7, Ch 17) which some of us can identify with, and which can give us hope and encouragement as we seek to love the Lord and only Him, but find ourselves being weighed down by our old habits.

And I marveled that I now loved thee, and no phantasm in thy stead, and yet I was not stable enough to enjoy my God steadily. Instead I was transported to thee by thy beauty, and then presently torn away from thee by my own weight, sinking with grief into these lower things. This weight was carnal habit. But thy memory dwelt with me, and I never doubted in the least that there was One for me to cleave to; but I was not yet ready to cleave to thee firmly. For the body which is corrupted presses down the soul, and the earthly dwelling weighs down the mind, which muses upon many things.

... And I saw thy invisibility understood by means of the things that are made. But I was not able to sustain my gaze. My weakness was dashed back, and I lapsed again into my accustomed ways, carrying along with me nothing but a loving memory of my vision, and an appetite for what I had, as it were, smelled the odor of, but was not yet able to eat.

Happy Feast day!

Monica, the Peacemaker

August 27 is the feastday of Santa Monica, the mother of St. Augustine. She is more popularly known for her constant prayers and gift of tears by which she obtained from God the grace of the conversion of her husband as well as of her son, Augustine. But the following excerpt from the Confessions (Bk 9, Ch 9) of her son, Augustine, shows how she can teach how to be peacemakers, especially in the present context of fighting in Mindanao:

This other great gift thou also didst bestow, O my God, my Mercy, upon that good handmaid of thine, in whose womb thou didst create me. It was that whenever she could she acted as a peacemaker between any differing and discordant spirits, and when she heard very bitter things on either side of a controversy--the kind of bloated and undigested discord which often belches forth bitter words, when crude malice is breathed out by sharp tongues to a present friend against an absent enemy--she would disclose nothing about the one to the other except what might serve toward their reconciliation. This might seem a small good to me if I did not know to my sorrow countless persons who, through the horrid and far-spreading infection of sin, not only repeat to enemies mutually enraged things said in passion against each other, but also add some things that were never said at all. It ought not to be enough in a truly humane man merely not to incite or increase the enmities of men by evil-speaking; he ought likewise to endeavor by kind words to extinguish them. Such a one was she--and thou, her most intimate instructor, didst teach her in the school of her heart.

The Stranger

I feature for this weekend's reflection the (unedited) essay of Mark Elloren, a second year theology seminarian here in St John Vianney Theological Seminary. This was submitted as a weekly reflection for our Christology course. This also appears in his own blog/ multiply site. This Sunday's Gospel has Jesus asking the disciples, "Who do you say that I am?"

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He became stranger to me.

It was like the silence of two best friends who meet each other in the morning after making love for the first time the night before. They became strangers after exploring deeper the realities of themselves and found out that there was something more in their friendship.

It was like the awkward distance of lovers who meet in an unexpected circumstance after breaking up for many years. They became strangers after realizing they still love each other and that silent love created distance.

It was like that. Jesus became stranger to me.

Talking about Him deeply in our Christology class, I came to realize that there is something more about him. I thought he was just my best friend whom I could share my thoughts, my problems, my heartaches, my frustrations and my joy. I thought He was the Jesus who would take care of me in my loneliness, who will fight for me everytime I lose, and who would run for me like the father in the prodigal son after I make mistakes in life.

No, there is something more to him than just being a friend.

I thought my love for him would make me closer. No, my love for him creates space. Yet that space is a consoling space, a healing space and a loving space. I could not understand this thoroughly. But my point is: after loving him, Jesus became stranger to me. Love, then, is a paradox- it is close yet distance.

Is this the experience of the two disciples walking to Emmaus? They thought Jesus would save Israel from slavery. They thought Jesus will fulfill their desire for a Messiah. Jesus became stranger to them. Yet, the hope was that, the stranger made their hearts burning within. (Lk 32:24)

No words attached, with mystery, with unfamiliarity and with longing, the presence of the stranger somehow made my heart burning within.

It was like the moment, being with your beloved for long- no words attached, with mystery, with unfamiliarity, with longing- and realizing that your beloved becomes stranger to you.