The light

From Christmas at Genesee Abbey, by Fr. Henri Nouwen

"I keep thinking about the Christmas scene that Anthony arranged under the altar.  This probably is the most meaningful 'crib' I have ever seen.  Three small wood-carved figures made in India: a poor woman, a poor man, and a small child between them.  The carving is simple, nearly primitive.  No eyes, no ears, no mouths, just the contours of the faces.  The figures are smaller than a human hand - nearly too small to attract attention at all.

But then - a beam of light shines on the three figures and projects large shadows on the wall of the sanctuary.  That says it all.  The light thrown on the smallness of Mary, Joseph, and the Child projects them as large, hopeful shadows against the walls of our life and our world.

While looking at the intimate scene we already see the first outlines of the majesty and glory they represent.  While witnessing the most human of human events, I see the majesty of God appearing on the horizon of my existence.  While being moved by the gentleness of these three people, I am already awed by the immense greatness of God's love appearing in my world.  Without the radiant beam of light shining into the darkness there is little to be seen.  I might just pass by these three simple people and continue to walk in darkness.  But everything changes with the light."

Please remember those children who did not see the light, because of the dark whims or dreadful confusion of people who are in darkness.  And let us pray for them too, they who are in darkness; Jesus was born for them too.  May they be open to the Light, and be changed.  And, of course: may we, too.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Stephen

"Stephen, filled with grace and power..."

The name I bear is both cross and crown.

Like the fate of the Babe born yesterday,

in Whom I can do all things through His grace and power.

Please pray for me.  Let us pray for each other.

Through the intercession of St. Stephen, the first martyr,

may each of us fix our gaze not only on Bethlehem,

but also on Egypt, on Nazareth, on Bethany, on Samaria,

on Jerusalem and its Calvary, on the empty tomb,

and even beyond--to the ends of the earth,

to which the arms of the Christ Child sends us forth

to embrace, with "tenderness and hope", with Him.

*Originally posted on Facebook

+Jonas Garcia

Jonas Garcia, this ‪#‎NYD2013‬ is yours too.

From the Great Beyond, pray for us that we may ‪#‎Goandmakedisciples‬ of peace, of active non-violence exemplified by the Almighty who chose to be in weak human flesh, the Lord who stood for love even if it meant giving up His life, the Master who stretched out His arms instead of raising them.  Help us follow Him, beginning with the thoughts we entertain, the words we speak, the company we keep, the choices we make, the games we play, the ways we spend our energies.

I pray for your eternal repose.  May your life be never in vain.

‪#‎NewGenMissionary‬

*Originally posted on Facebook

Christ the King: Not for Him, but for us

A belated insight into Christ the King (though perhaps not really belated because He is King forever), thanks to Fr. Joel Jason of the Archdiocese of Manila:

"But we need to be reminded. Jesus IS King.  We do not and cannot make Him King.  Even if we do not acknowledge His Kingship, He remains to be King.  Our Lord is not an ego maniac who needs to be reminded often of His greatness.  This solemnity is not a massage to the Divine Ego.  When you go to Mass today and worship the Lord, do not think for a moment that you have done Him a great favor.  Even if we do not acknowledge His Kingship, it will not be His loss, it is ours.  Ultimately, this feast is not for Jesus, it is for us."

Advent not only prepares us to remember meaningfully Jesus' First Coming, but also disposes us for His Second.  May we live these days in joyful hope, and pray for one another.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Life as Advent... Life is Advent

In some way, life on earth is one grand Advent season.

I wish ours will find us open to patient waiting, to expectant hoping,

staying and remaining trusting and serene

in the Presence of Him who is "coming in glory"

and yet "always with us until the end of time",

while working, together, "for our salvation in fear and trembling".

*Originally posted on Facebook

Goodness

I am writing this from some fancy hotel outside my own country, surrounded by some of the people closest to my heart and most involved in my journey.

I had some reluctance in making this trip.  With what my country has suffered and is going through, with the workload getting more intense as the year ends, with urgent concerns coming up instead of winding down, pursuing this trip seemed unreasonable.

But I decided to make it.  After a full day of celebrating the Solemnity of Christ the King and the Closing of the Year of Faith at the event of the Catholic Social Media Summit version 2.0 and in my parish, among the committed youth in our youth ministry for a creative formation session, I packed my things and readied myself to make this trip with three of my close friends.  Even before leaving the country, goodness and beauty already touched me: The wonder of being reunited in a man, apparently in his 60's, an OFW coming home to Cagayan de Oro, who asked for help in contacting his family who will welcome him at the airport, since his phone battery lost power.  The joy of humor and a light heart in an airline staff who received our baggage and engaged us with his sense of humor, in which we willingly complied.  The satisfaction derived from giving without counting the cost in brief encounters with airport personnel who seemed not in the mood to be personable very early in the morning, who still received my smile.  And upon landing, the welcome of my niece and her fiancee, the immediate connection with a new acquaintance who went out of his way to welcome us, the spontaneous decision to adjust our plans for the day for something which turned out to be better... All these afforded me a glimpse of joy that is simple, of goodness that is beyond the external, and of beauty that calls forth gratefulness.

And at the end of this day, at prayer with my friends, I rediscovered God as deliberate in His desire for me to experience Him, His beauty and goodness.  He doesn't will me to suffer, to be destitute, because He is pure, full goodness; however, though suffering be a fact of earthly life, He gives me countless opportunities to see Him at work, in those moments, places and people who open me to the experience of His goodness, and to allow Him to work in me by bringing His goodness into those moments, places and people who thirst for it.

So even if I am called to deny myself, take up my cross and follow not myself but Him, this path leads me to meaning and magnificence because it is along the path of Him who is truth, goodness and beauty.

Pananagutan

At Mass earlier this evening, the presider, after leading the post-communion prayer, announced a second collection for the Yolanda victims.  As the collectors went to the assembly, the introduction to the song "Pananagutan" was played...

Walang sinuman ang nabubuhay para sa sarili lamang.
Walang sinuman ang namamatay para sa sarili lamang.

Tayong lahat ay may pananagutan sa isa't-isa.
Tayong lahat ay tinipon ng Diyos na kapiling Niya.

Nangilid luha ko.  Nagbigay ako, siyempre.  At ang pagdalo at pag-aalay ko ng Misa, bahagi ng pakikilahok ko sa "Novena of Prayer and Charity" kasama ng pagtitipon ng mga gamit para sa mga nasalanta.

Ikaw, paano mo isinasabuhay ang "pananagutan" sa panahong ito?

Choice

Were the ones who perished in these recent calamities, or in any calamity for that matter, less loved by God?

I have just read, and been blessed by, an article from Erwin Tulfo (whose name, by the way, a brother of mine thought, should have been my name too: those who know my brothers know what this means). And I saw in one of the comments an opinion that maybe Erwin's prayer was stronger than the prayers of those who died, that maybe he was wearing the right scapular.

It seems so unfortunate that someone will choose to see it that way. Here is a fellow human being, grateful to be alive because of his faith, and another fellow human being who sarcastically demeans what the other sees as the reason for his "second chance" at life. The latter seems to totally miss the point when Erwin said he "realized one thing. If it is your time to go, you can’t stop it. However, if you ask Him to put it on hold, [H]e may just do that provided that it will be for your good and that of your loved ones and above all, for His greater glory. After all, [H]e owns our lives."

Which leads me to be reminded: These events highlight what our sojourn on earth can ultimately mean--a choice to acknowledge and enter into a living relationship with the God who causes the gentle light of the rising sun, who permits thunder to toll and waves to roll, who can stretch us to become the best of ourselves if we allow Him to, who challenges and at the same time empowers us to be "holy as He is holy", who can give meaning to and beyond the ordinariness or even the cruelty of transitory, earthly life, and who will receive us in the eternal embrace only if we let Him, who after all has only lent us our lives.

Or we can choose to simply rely on our petty, selfish selves, who can neither control the rising of the sun or seas, who at our basest can and will stop at nothing to be above others, who by ourselves are ultimately only dust.

Paraphrasing Paul of Tarsus: sin, selfishness, self-centeredness lead us to death... But thanks be to God who gives us the choice for life, meaning and hope in Jesus Christ [cf. 1 Cor 56-57].

So, were the ones who died less loved by God? They are in the eternal embrace, in the fullest love there could ever be. And for us who are left in this valley of tears? Each of us can choose to live deceiving ourselves that "I am sufficient", or to live in search of meaning that can only come beyond the self and, finding it, live it, breathe it, die for it.

P.S. Here is the link to the article by Erwin Tulfo - http://manilatimes.net/there-is-indeed-a-god/52046/

"Hindi ko po alam"

Sa sitwasyon ngayon ng ating bansa, hindi uubra ang "Hindi ko po alam" bilang sagot sa tanong na "Anong magagawa mo para sa ikabubuti ng Pilipinas?"

Puwede nating simulan sa pagdaup ng ating mga palad

nang pagkatapos ay maiinat sa pagkilos, sa pagtulong, sa pagbubuo,

sa pagpikit ng ating mga mata upang buksang muli sa nangyayari sa paligid,
sa pagtawag sa Panginoon para matawag ang kapwa bilang kapatid.

*Naunang ipinaskil sa Facebook

All Souls' Day, 2013 edition

I believe in God who is life,

revealed by Jesus who is the life,

who shares His life-giving Spirit to all.

So today, I will celebrate life and sharing that never end,

especially with those dear to me, whether they are still with me,

or have gone ahead towards the Great Beyond.

All in the infinite tenderness and righteousness of the Lord Jesus.

*Originally posted on Facebook

All Saints' Day, 2013 edition

Thank You, Lord, for today's All Saints' Day!

In the morning, with my family, where I first knew You and built my faith,
At midday, a lot of traveling, reminding me that holiness is a journey,
In the afternoon, on the streets, in the mall, inside a convenience store: ordinary places where each one can choose to be extraordinary,
At dusk, in the gathering of Your faithful for Eucharist,
And now, nighttime, in the company of friends who share my faith.

Glory to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit!

*Originally posted on Facebook

All Hallows' Eve

Tonight, All Hallows' Eve, we celebrate what we can, and desire, to become.

Now, if it's ghoulish or Godly, it's up to each one. :)

Chastity

Chastity is consistency.
Consistency among my body, my heart and my mind.
Consistency between what I believe in and what I do (or at least, strive to).

Religious and Spiritual

To be truly spiritual is to be religious.
To be truly religious is to be spiritual.

MINDful and HEARTful

May our hearts be wide to welcome the world,
and our hands stretched to the nearest neighbor.

As we pray for situations that are bigger than us--typhoon and earthquake victims, corruption in government, human trafficking, respect for indigenous peoples, new evangelization, etc.--let us be mindful and, yes, heartful, of the officemate who is sick, the neighbor's house who was flooded, the barangay elections, the child at home in front of the TV, the taho and banana cue vendor, the usher at church collecting offerings.

P.S. And while I'm at it, please pray too for the PCNE, underway til Friday.  I have small group sessions this afternoon and tomorrow.  May every moment be Jesus-moments, the Gospel continuing to be written, proclaimed, and lived.

*Originally posted on Facebook

What makes the country truly rich

I don't know how many petitions on change.org about corruption in my country have I already signed.

But through all these petition-signing, news specials, heated discussions, shocking confessions and passionate demonstrations, I hope for one thing: for each Filipino to discover, no matter how arduous or steep the climb is, what truly makes the country rich.  Definitely, it is not riches amassed only by and for an elite few, and not only natural resources, high GDP's or well-collected (and properly disposed) taxes.  It is a people united by something bigger than themselves: justice, compassion, constant pursuit of what is good for everyone... Goodness itself.  And already, our new money bills already say it: "Pinagpala ang bayan na ang Diyos ay ang Panginoon" (hindi ang pork barrel, hindi ang Estados Unidos, hindi ang sariling kapakanan, hindi ang kamag-anak, kaibigan o kabarilan).

*Originally posted on Facebook

Imperfect

The number 13 has been deemed by many as unlucky, and so we have “Friday the 13th”, and we don’t have 13th floors in buildings.  But today marks my 13th year in fulltime youth ministry, something I definitely won’t describe as unfavored.

The second of October in the year 2000 was my first day in the National Secretariat for Youth Apostolate, the executive arm of the Youth Commission of the CBCP (or Catholic Bishops’ Conference of the Philippines).  My entry into this office and fulltime ministry: these I consider as God’s gifts to me in that Year of Great Jubilee.  (The journey towards these deserves another post.)

And 13 years later, I am here. 13.  The number, and how it is perceived as imperfect, brings to me these thoughts...

My youth ministry, my relationships, how I make choices as well some choices themselves, my journey, my life... They are imperfect.  I sigh at the realization how I wish I could have done some things differently, decided differently, trod some paths differently.  Especially in relation to my faith in Christ, then indeed many parts of my life fall short: imperfect.  But this imperfection does not have to be the final word; this only serves to remind me that I am in the process, that there can be learning and improvement.  But more important of all, that I cannot rely only on myself and that I need someone bigger than me.

I know that there is the other way where, realizing one’s imperfection, the person resigns to her/his sorry state and lives, as it were, at "perfecting being imperfect".  Today, as I wish to do so everytime, I choose to acknowledge what is imperfect in me and my need for the Lord and His saving work in my life, in my journey, in my relationships and yes, in my ministry.

After all, 13 is not the only imperfect number.  Every number is, until all of them bring us, mark us towards Christ, whose fullness will accompany us, confront us, empower us every imperfect step we take if we allow Him.

Carrying on the struggle

Social netizens in the Philippines seem to be more up and about these days.  I see it as good--the rising awareness of people about what is happening around them, whether in the immediacy of the neighborhood or the wide backyard of the home we call "Earth", and the way many are pitching in their thoughts and concern about these.

Of course, these issues should indeed concern us: the unrest in the Zamboanga peninsula within the context of peace and development around Mindanao, the still unfolding saga of the pork barrel, and all these realities in society such as informal settlers in urban areas, corruption in public office, inequality between classes, education as achievable only until (or even before) one's teenage years, forced migration and changes, oftentimes detrimental, in the home.  Looking at my faith, I think too of situations in the church which call for attention: the dichotomy between belief and daily life; the neglect for lay people; the priority given more to church renovation rather than community building; the lack of a truly focused, relevant and concerted effort for the young faithful; the need to begin with initial (seminary) formation if we truly want renewed clergy and religious; among many others.

And of course, I can go on.  But of course, I cannot claim I have the answers to all of these questions.  But I am willing to continue the journey.

However, to me, now, that is beside the point.  The point is, how will I carry on the struggle?  Will I allow myself to be tossed here and there among this myriad of issues, or is there something--someone--in whom I can refer to, gaze at for direction, and depend on for solace and support?  Should I turn in on myself for the answers, or should I look beyond myself for meaning and hope while remaining rooted in the joys and pains of the here and now?

Deep in my heart, I know the answer.  I know in Whom I put my trust [cf. 2 Tim 1:12].

Into the Kingdom of Heaven

"With some of us, the end of egoism requires a big struggle.
Sometimes, we are carried more or less kicking and screaming
into the Kingdom of Heaven."John Main, OSB

I don't mind the kicking and screaming,
as long as I know who is carrying me,

and He's carrying me to Heaven.

;)

*Originally posted on Facebook

The Lord's (Mother's birth) Day

It's Mary's birthday in less than an hour.
But it falls on a Sunday, "The Lord's Day".

I strongly feel she would be happier if we remembered her Son more than her: attend Eucharist, listen to His Word, receive His Body.  After all, she proudly tells us, "Anak ko 'yan!"

P.S. But I want to greet you still, Blessed Mother: Happy Birthday!

And while I'm at it, and I know you're in heaven, please whisper to your Son our cries for peace:

in Syria; in the Middle East;

in Timor Leste and their birthing pains as a nation;

in Malaysia and their struggle for religious freedom;

in Indonesia, Singapore and Brunei;

in the Philippines and our drive to integrate what we believe in with how we live;

and in the whole world.

And that this peace begin with me.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Timorese thanks

Thank You, Lord, for the beautiful day,
For the faith and fellowship shared,
For the welcome fully and joyfully given.
May our ministries among the youth be as today:
beautiful because of You,
rooted and built up in You,
offered to everyone as You do.

"If I must boast, let me boast in the Lord!" [cf. 1 Cor 1:31b]

The height of love

Preparing for next week, I was led by events of last month and sharing from loved ones to this message of Pope Francis to his brother-bishops of Brazil.  Speaking about what we, as church, tend to feel about those who have left or find us irrelevant, he used the Emmaus story as a guide...

Many people have left [the Church] because they were promised something more lofty...  But what is more lofty than the love revealed in Jerusalem?  Nothing is more lofty than the abasement of the Cross, since there we truly approach the height of love!  Are we still capable of demonstrating this truth to those who think that the apex of life is to be found elsewhere?

You can read more with me, and be inspired and challenged also, here...

*Originally posted on Facebook

In Jesus' Name

To ask in Jesus' name is not a magic spell we cast on the Father,

blackmailing God to act according to our liking.

To pray in Jesus' name is what the disciples requested in [the] Gospel.

To pray like Jesus, to pray in His name,

is to pray according to His heart, His mind, His will.

Thanks to Fr. Joel Jason for this sharing!  I will keep this in mind and heart the next time I end my prayer "in Jesus' name".  Better yet, before I pray, to seek that my prayer become truly made "in Jesus' name": according to His heart, His mind, His will.

*Originally posted on Facebook

I was there

I was there.

In a rally this afternoon in Liwasang Bonifacio I decided to come. Most of those present were students. Speaker after speaker was ranting against the current government and how it has betrayed and continues to deceive and steal from the people. The main issue is, as most Filipinos should know by now, is the brazen misuse of public funds, specifically the Priority Development Assistance Fund.

I was there and took in the sight of young people: those who spoke to the crowd, the packets who listened, and the many who seemed to be there "just because". As I wrote on my response to the invitation why I was going, I am going because my faith in Christ impels me to stand up against corruption. And I will continue to take part in succeeding efforts, no matter how little, no matter how seemingly insignificant, in facing the scourge of corruption in our country and ushering God's Reign in how society is ruled.

But that aside, I stayed and listened and took in the cries, the angry speeches, the restless rants, and thought of how Pope Francis called on the youth of his country, Argentina, last month, to make themselves heard in their dioceses... "I want the noise to go out, I want the Church to go out onto the streets, I want us to resist everything worldly, everything static, everything comfortable, everything to do with clericalism, everything that might make us closed in on ourselves. The parishes, the schools, the institutions are made for going out ... if they don’t, they become an NGO, and the Church cannot be an NGO." And might I say, not a fake one, at that.

Coming back to work, to my community of fellow youth ministers, for our every Friday 17.00 prayer to end the week, I was deeply touched by what I heard again. We prayed the rosary and included a reflective reading of the Pope's homily for the Final Mass of World Youth Day 2013. Pope Francis spoke to the youth gathered about what "Go and make disciples of all nations" means. "Where does Jesus send us? There are no borders, no limits: he sends us to everyone. The Gospel is for everyone, not just for some. It is not only for those who seem closer to us, more receptive, more welcoming. It is for everyone. Do not be afraid to go and to bring Christ into every area of life, to the fringes of society, even to those who seem farthest away, most indifferent." These words made me think of those young people speaking at that rally; those who were listening, or even those who appeared to be listening; those who were busy with small talk and those who were behind the organization of the rally. Among them too were jeepney drivers, laborers, vendors of cheese corn and cigarettes, little kids playing, oblivious to the gravity of the issue at hand. To them too, the Gospel is for.

And for them too, challenged and inspired by this successor of Peter, I hope to say, I was there.

Because about them, among them, in them, Jesus Master too would say, "I am there."

Good to be here

Like Peter, and, by extension,
like the Virgin Mary, the other disciples,
confessors, martyrs, and many others in the great cloud of witnesses,
I dare proclaim:
"Lord, it is good for me to be here!"

And where is here?
In Your presence.
Whether it is in the glory of Tabor or the hope of the empty tomb,
in the joy of Bethlehem and Nazareth and Cana and Bethany and other towns,
in the bitter suffering of Calvary,
in the decisive journeys and affirming solitude around Galilee, Samaria and Judea,
it is always good to be where You are.

P.S. Lord, it was good to be with You among millions of people professing faith (whether with firmness, or perhaps doubt, or even some struggling) in You.  Now, let me remain in You always as I go make disciples in my home, in my relationships, in my ministry, in my life.  Amen.

And to you reading this: Happy feastday (in advance) of the Transfiguration!  Children of the Father that we are, let us ever heed His voice: "Listen to My Son."

*Originally posted on Facebook

"Man of Steel"

Halfway through the year, I bring with me realizations from viewing MAN OF STEEL (which was more than a week ago).

It seems much has been said about the Catholic and/or Christian elements in the film.  Which, to me, is obvious: Kansas, where Smallville is, is 86% Christian; thus, the portrayal of Clark as Christian.  If Kal-El landed on Thailand, he would probably have been Buddhist.

And here I sense a deeper code: Clark grew up, with the help of his foster parents and by extension his Smallville community, to be a Christian.  His visit to the church and dialogue with a clergyman, deliberately done before his great choice, were explicit signs that he took seriously his being Christian.

Do I? Do we?

*Originally posted on Facebook

Who am I?

I am a child of God,
loved into existence,
redeemed towards fullness,
embraced by heaven even while journeying on earth.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Declarations

Our declarations express what we believe, and shape what we become.  Because "from the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks."

We are surrounded by declarations from all around: thank-yous and promises from elected officials, jokes over a heinous crime from a celebrity, a singer's "out-ing" of her sexual preference (probably not sexuality, as many media outfits identify), calls for help from a country between Europe and Asia, among many others.

But are we only the sum total of what we are able to express, whether through our words or through our emotions, efforts and exercise?  Are we to be defined, appreciated, related to only according to what we sense, to what we are able to say, to how we see things, to how we struggle between despair and hope?

I am grateful to my Nanay for her devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus.  She was among the first persons in my life who introduced me to what is beyond me, to that Who loved me into existence.  It is from the abundance of His heart, pierced and wounded so that when I am pierced and wounded I may know consolation, that words have come to define who I have come to believe I am.  Who am I, beyond my struggles and searching, my despairs and decisions, my musings and music and ministry, my loves and lusts and lukewarmness, my faith and my falls and my forwards?  Who am I beyond all these?  He tells me, with all the love in this world and beyond: I am HIS.

On this Year of Faith, I pray you hear Him too, tell you this.

*Originally posted on Facebook

By the well in Kabankalan

In the Philippines, youth ministers from all over the Philippines came to a city called Kabankalan, which was not far (well, depending on your perspective) from the place where the living Word was first proclaimed and earthly bread was transformed into Christ's body. They seemed tired from their journey in youth ministry and sat down "by the well". It was about noontime of the year, having held towards the end of May.

For the above verses, I thank John the Evangelist for the words in his chapter 4, verses 5-6. We youth ministers came from all regional coordinations of Catholic youth ministry in the Philippines, upon the invitation of the CBCP-Episcopal Commission on Youth, for the meeting of the National Youth Coordinating Council. Most Rev. Patricio Buzon, SDB, DD, together with his jolly and committed youth ministers, opened the doors of his diocese to us. The 28th to the 31st of May 2013 were days marked by great simplicity: in location (Kabankalan is not a big urban city in the likes of Manila, Cebu or even Bacolod, but it is, like Sychar that is sanctified by the Patriarchs Jacob and Joseph, made holy by the martyrdom of unsung heroes during the dictatorship), in arrangements (we were in simple rooms, served simple but filling meals), even in process (there was no mind-boggling input or complicated activity). We youth ministers came together and reminded ourselves, allowed ourselves to be reminded, of what is basic in this beautiful and challenging ministry: to be evangelized that we may be evangelizing.

The experience gave us the opportunity to come together to draw water, but it also allowed us to listen to our Lord say to us, "Give me a drink of water."

We received the life-giving water of the Lord in our fellowship (both in fun times and in difficult times--and truly, there was a "natural calamity" where those affected were consoled by the communion of others), in the challenge of "professionalizing" and "corporate-izing" youth ministry, in assessing the current situation of our young people, and in those moments of prayer which became sources of who we are and how we should serve.

But we too have fed the Lord. We fed Him through our humble efforts of listening, through our openness to be confronted with how more youth ministry can become not so much an effective strategy but a shining, attractive manifestation of Jesus' love today, through our giving of ourselves in our worship in silence or in song.

It is my prayer that each youth minister all over this archipelago may receive openly and courageously the water that Jesus is, allow ourselves to become springs of His life-giving presence to the Church and her young people. Then can we hope for our young people exclaim, "We believe now, not because of what you said, but because we ourselves have heard Him, and we know that he really is the Savior of the world!" [cf. Jn 4:42]

Real voting

My vote doesn't end today.

Real voting, the kind that is rooted in love of country and of fellowmen and women, flows into the next days until the next elections, and is shown by electing to do what is good (like crossing the road only when the traffic light signals me to), to participate actively in appropriate venues for citizenship (such as barangay assemblies, responsible posting in social media, etc.), to choose the common good and absolute values as basis in my daily decisions (for the brands that I patronize, the events I attend, the politicians I invite to these events, the shows that I watch, the advice that I give to those who seek it, etc.).

And I will strive to do this not only because this is what Inang Pilipinas deserves, but also because this is what my faith in Jesus Christ empowers me to become, as Inang Simbahan guides me to do.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Mother

I want to thank You, God, Great Mother of us all, for loving us all into existence.

Thank You for the gift of motherhood which You shared with Eve and her daughters, which You empowered Mary to be supreme example, which You from age to age make fertile through love, understanding, consolation and hope.

I thank You in a special way for Benita, committed apostle of the Sacred Heart of Your only begotten Son, Jesus, who blessed me by procreating me with You and Ruperto, by carrying me despite her advanced age, by birthing me and nurturing me and lavishing me with love that is always sweet, sometimes demanding, but ever motherly.  You have called her back to You; may I one day join her again in Your everlasting, blessed embrace.

I ask You to bless my other mothers:

Mother Church, who continues to strive in living with fidelity her union with Your Son; may we all build her up by our own responsible and committed living of our Baptismal gift.

My motherland, who is attacked from all sides and even by her own children with ideologies and strategies that are not Filipino; may we gift her with our conscience-driven, life-giving exercise of our vote tomorrow, and our conscientious participation in her daily affairs.

My mother tongue, often unrecognized, sometimes disrespected, but so essential for understanding and cooperation; may she prosper again through education that flows into everyday existence.

Bless too, mothers related to me by blood (aunties, cousins, nieces, other relatives), by bonding (friends and acquaintances), or by blessing (heroic mothers I look up to: Margaret Occhiena, Monica of Hippo, Gianna Beretta Molla, etc.).

*Originally posted on Facebook

Results (on the elections)

I think this makes a lot of sense.

You want the same results? Then do the same things again and again.

You want a different outcome? Then do things differently.

You want a better outcome? To just work "harder" may not always do the trick. There should be something different in what you put in, or in how you do it.

I believe the same applies to our voting. If we vote for the same people, or use the same method of preparing for voting (or the lack of it), then we shouldn't be surprised we're in the mire we're in.

It seems to me that for voting, my general criteria, so far, are:

1. No other family member in (elected positions in) government -- this is always a source of temptation to make one's family nepotistic, and we can help them avoid this temptation by not electing them all family into office.
2. New but competent persons (track record, curriculum vitae, stand on issues, etc.).
3. Aside from other helpful standards as L.A.S.E.R. (lifestyle, action, supporters, election conduct and reputation) will be helpful for our democracy: Bago naman! More importantly, a new way of voting can also bring us a new (and hopefully renewing) scenario for the political landscape. Tama na 'yung "name recall, pogi/maganda sa poster, kilala ng pinsan ko, binigyan kami ng relief goods" lang.

Some suggestions:

1. Perhaps this time, let us really study how we will vote. Consult friends, search the net, reflect are just some new ways.
2. And let us prod others to do the same.
3. We can also try (perhaps for the first time for some) to let faith enlighten our choices. Try lang; if faith is supposed to be life-giving for the soul, can it not also be for the body?
4. See voting not as a "one-time, big-time" right for one day every 3 years, but as a responsibility we owe to our country that makes us proud because of its Tubbataha Reef, Verde Passage, rice terraces, fiestas, natural warmth, halo-halo, family closeness, Santo Nino, etc., a responsibility upon us all each day of our "always-blessed, sometimes-damned" Filipino lives.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Nanay's 12th

Today is the 12th anniversary of my Nanay's passing on.

I remember her fondly; although now, more than ever, I know she is ever near, thanks to my Catholic faith (and its communion of saints), which she passed on to me by what she did (bringing me to Baptism, Confirmation, Reconciliation and the Eucharist; teaching me catechism; bringing me to La Naval and other processions; etc.) and how she served (indefatigable Apostolado ng Panalangin leader; active Salesian Cooperator; etc.; but most of all: patient, humble, loving mother).

Eternal rest grant unto Benita, O Lord

And let Your perpetual light shine upon her.
May she rest in peace, amen.

*Originally posted on Facebook

"I know He lives..."

(A reflection on the life of Mary of Magdala, on a poem of Sir Rabindranath Tagore, and on the song "In my heart" of Fr. Manoling Francisco SJ)

The battle is over. After strife and struggles the treasure is gathered and stored.

In my heart, I know my Savior lives.

I can hear Him calling tenderly my name.

Over sin and death He has prevailed.

In His glory, in His new life we partake.

Come now, woman, with your golden jar of beauty. Wash away all dust and dirt, fill up all cracks and flaws, make the heap shapely and sound.
Come, beautiful woman, with the golden jar on your head.

   I can still lovingly recall the first time I met the Master. It was during the time I was a captive of seven inimical beings who were reigning over my inmost being. I came to hear that the Master, the controversial Jesus, the Nazarene, will be passing by. I recall shamefully that then, I had decided to find out what sort of man the Master was. With all the charm and enticement I was carrying, I went out... to seduce Him. I approached Him, jar on my head, gracefully conscious of every move that I make. I looked at Him; he in turn gave back a look of concern. It was a moment of cleansing for me. I felt a sudden gush of bathing water poured over my being. His gaze? It was liberating! There and then, I felt a most glorious freedom. I am free! His words freed me. His gaze liberated me. His presence cleansed me. His being recreated me.

   The memory of Jesus never left me then. He is the Savior. I know... He is my Savior.

The play is over. I have come to the village and have set up my hearthstone.
Now come, woman, carrying your vessel of sacred water; with tranquil smile and devout love, make my home pure.
Come, noble woman, with your vessel of sacred water.

   It was during a dinner in the house of a certain Simon that I had the opportunity to meet again the Master. I prepared for that event. What was left behind of the money which I gave to the poor I devoted to procure a costly alabaster jar filled with perfumed, precious oil. While my sister Martha was helping serve food to the guests, I left my station in the kitchen and went to the servants' room. There, I got the jar and held it tight near my breast. I walked slowly but firmly to the great hall and looked for my Liberator. I saw Him sitting down near His followers, conversing with the owner of the house. I removed my veil, moved near Him, and broke the jar over His head. The fragrance of the essence created a sudden silence in the hall. Afterwards, I knelt to wash His feet with my tears, while recalling the many times I have strayed away from His flock. I also anointed those feet--those feet which carried the Good News Himself--with what was left in the jar. I dried them with my flowing hair. I heard some of the present speak against what I have performed. But deep in my heart, I know that what I did was still incomparable to the grace He has lavishly bestowed on me. He even defended me; yet His words I cannot fathom, but I kept them in my heart. All I could make up from those words were,

"In pouring this perfumed oil upon my body, she did it to prepare me for burial.

Amen, I say to you, wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world,

what she has done will be spoken of

in memory of her..."

   From then on, I resolved to follow Him, wherever He may go. After all, to whom can I go? He alone has the words of life, life in its fullest.

The morning is over. The sun is fiercely burning. The wandering stranger is seeking shelter.
Come, woman, with your pitcher full of sweetness. Open your door and with a garland of welcome ask him in.
Come, blissful woman, with your full pitcher of sweetness.

   News about the Master's passing by our humble shelter filled me with joy and excitement. The three of us hastened to the preparations: Lazarus with the furnishings of the house, chef Martha with her delicacies, and I, with the simple chore of cleaning the living room. It was about noon when the Master came, together with Peter, John and the rest of His friends. When He occupied His place in the room, I brought Him a pitcher of refreshing wine to drink. He was speaking. Those restful words seemed to pull me to His side. As one of the hosts, I feel that the best welcome I could give Him is my listening ear. And so went to His side, sat on the floor, rested my head on His lap, and most of all, welcomed His words into my heart. My sister told Him to reprimand me for not lending a hand on the kitchen chores, but the Master uttered these words to her:

"There is need of only one thing.

Mary has chosen the better part

and it will not be taken from her."

   I was delighted, not because it seemed that the Master sided with me, but moreso, for His appreciation of the gesture that I made. For what manner was more welcoming than sitting by my guest... err, Guest, and keeping Him company? Come, divine Guest, for whoever welcomes you welcomes not You, but Him who sent You. My attentive ear, the open door; my open heart, the welcoming garland; my welcoming presence, the sweet pitcher: good measure, flowing over.

The day is over. The time has come to take leave.
Come, O woman, with your vessel full of tears. Let your sad eyes shed tender glow on the farewell path and the touch of thy trembling hand make the parting hour full.
Come, suffering woman, bring your brimming jar of remembrance.

   As the Passover feast approached, bad news about the Master reached my ears. I heard that there were plots against Him, plans to take away His life. I dismissed those evil thoughts, for three years had transpired and He is still safe. But one morning, when I was on my way to the market to buy some oil for the evening festivities, I heard the noise of a mob. Holding tightly the jar of oil, I rushed to the scene. I was nervous. I felt that something unpleasant was about to happen. When I reached the path leading to the outskirts of the great Jerusalem, I made my way through a thick swarm of people. There I beheld the most pitiable being on the face of the earth. He was carrying a long piece of lumber on His back, which was obviously heavier than Him. His was face was unrecognizable due to blood that already clot and to new blood gushing forth from new wounds by the merciless whipping of a Roman soldier. The people were all shouting, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" I heard somebody scream, "Crucify Jesus, that Jesus of Naza..." When he came to those words, I felt a sudden numbness all over. I gasped for breath. At that moment, the jar which I can throw into the air without letting it fall to the ground suddenly became heavy. My hands, without any hesitation, dropped it to the ground. With all the strength I could muster, I ran towards the direction of the Master. At that race against all odds, the memory of my Liberator dawned upon me: the first meeting, the raising of my brother Lazarus, the dinner at the house of Simon... All I could do then was run, and cry: Jesus? Jesus?! JESUS! The Master looked towards me. His bloodied face rendered me a loving look. All I could do was shout out loud, JESUS! A man pushed me back, while the people closed in til I cannot, with the minimal strength I had, enter in and follow Him during those last moments. I sat down in a corner, and wept, until sleep visited me.

   All I could remember afterwards was that my feet led me outside the city walls. I was there, on the hill branded as Golgotha. It was my first time there, on that place of the skull. Probably called so because the Romans' hunger for blood was satiated on that place. There was I, beneath the cross where the Master was crucified like any criminal, weeping... trying desperately to reminisce the joyful past that was freedom, life, love. I was there, a vessel of tears, weeping for Him who has loved me greatly, and whom my heart has loved deeply in return.

The night is dark; the house is desolate and the bed empty, only the lamp for the last rites is burning.
Come, woman, bring your brimming jar of remembrance. Open the door of the secret chamber with your unbraided streaming hair and spotless white robe, replenish the lamp of worship.

   The body was prepared for burial. It was late afternoon when Nicodemus and a certain Joseph of Arimathea, both secret followers of Jesus and members of the Sanhedrin, came with the permission for the body from the Procurator. I joined the women in wrapping the Master's body with linen. Afterwards, I, together with Joanna, followed the procession towards the garden where he was to be laid, in order to remember the path leading to it so we may anoint the body after the Sabbath. When I got home, my sister Martha and I prepared the spices and the ointments. Afterwards, I replenished the oil in the lamp, since work was forbidden on the Sabbath. As I was pouring oil on the lamp, I remembered the words of  the Master before He raised my brother Lazarus...

"I am the Resurrection and the Life!"

   Though it may be a Sabbath rest, a day of immobility, of passivity, yet the flame of the lamp of worship flickered still; my heart, beating still. I know He lives, as he promised. He lives. He is alive. He is the Life.

Come, suffering woman, bring your brimming jar of remembrance.

   The next day after the Sabbath found us: myself, Mary, wife of Cleopas and Mary Salome, on our way to the tomb, the Master's sanctuary. We brought along with us the vases of anointment, vessels full of perfumed oil, all the anoint the body of the Master.

   I went there to rekindle the memory of my Master, my Savior. I believe He did not die in vain. Yes, I may have come there bringing my jar of memories, my remembrances of Him, yet I also approach the Creator's dwelling place for three days in order for the Treasure to be gathered and stored. Little did I know that I also came there to be witness of His fulfilling of His promise:
"He is not here, but He has been raised..."

"Mary!"

"...go to My brothers and tell them,

'I am going to My Father and your Father, to My God and your God.'"

=======================
This short story of the life of Mary of Magdala may seem to romantic, but that is so. Her greatest vice may have been that she loved many, but her greatest virtue was that she loved much. She is woman: vessel of beauty, of sacredness, of sweetness, of sorrow, of reminiscences. God who has begun the good work in her brought it to fulfillment. She carried, and treasured the Master who made His dwelling within her.
"But this treasure we possess in earthen vessels,
to make known that its surpassing power comes from God,
and not from us..."

   She carried the Lord. She accommodated Him who is the Treasure and brought it to the waiting world, by her breaking of the news of the Resurrection to the weary apostles: "I have seen the Lord!"

For I have seen and touched Him risen

To all the world will I proclaim His majesty!

With joy I sing to tell His story

That in our hearts may live His memory!

"Amen, I say to you:

wherever this gospel is proclaimed in the whole world,

what she has done will be spoken of,

in memory of her."

Not even death can separate me

From His whose love and might remain in me!

Come, Mary Magdalene, bring to us the Life.
Be to us a vessel of Him who liberates, who raises up, who loves... who lives.
Amen.

[I have written this last 17 July 1996 as part of the requirements in the subject "Afro-Asian Third World Literature", and in view of the feast of St. Mary Magdalene on 22 July of that year.]

Why pray?

Why pray?
Nothing changes in me anyway.

Why not pray?
It's not just about me anyway.

*Originally posted on Facebook

Taking my cue from Peter

My relationship with God is a mystery to me. Not surprising, since God is mystery. I forget Him, I reject Him sometimes, I make decisions contrary to how He would, but He remains faithful. Unbelievable.

But this "unbelievability" sometimes pushes me to not believe in myself, that I am worth His fidelity.

However, I see a ray of hope, thanks to Peter: apostle. Fisherman turned fisher of men (and women). Hardworking. Passionate, implusive at times. Tends to be a show-off. Has a violent streak. Could be easily disillusioned. (I could relate in more ways than one.)

Peter wanted to walk on water but doubted and asked that the Lord save him; Jesus did. Peter, with inspiration from above, professed Jesus as the Christ, but later was rebuked for adamantly objecting against the "necessary" suffering of the Messiah. Peter promised he would be with Jesus until the end, but ended denying Him thrice and leaving Him in the cold at Calvary. Peter, already knowing the Lord is risen, went back to his old ways of fishing, but the Risen Jesus met him where he was and even helped him rekindle his love.

I have sometimes wondered if I have truly been evangelized, if indeed the Good News has taken root in me and is transforming my life, because of the many times--in my choices, in my words and actions, and in my inactions--that I have given in to doubt, that I have insisted on my own ways rather than God's, that I have broken my promises, that I have gone back to my "old ways". And here I recall Peter's life, his stories, his moments with Jesus.

And then I am inspired anew; I decide to never give up. Not so much by Peter's experiences, but by how patiently, lovingly, faithfully, Jesus accompanied him, continued to trust in him, and gave him the grace when he humbly asked for it.

Conversion is not simply a one-time, big-time event. Yes, it is helpful and significant that I can recall a pivotal moment in my life when in a very concrete way I have received God's love and I have responded back to Him in love as my fundamental option. But everyday, in the ordinary cycle of life, there Jesus continues to ask, fervently asks, "Do you love me more than these?"

Like Peter, despite waltzing with infidelity, I pray I never refuse, I never give up on this love.

God keeps on asking us

This 2013, Year of Faith, we celebrate the Annunciation today, 08 April 2013, because 25 March fell within Holy Week (and the solemnities of Our Lord's Paschal Mystery take precedence over His other solemnities), and this day is the first day after the Easter Octave.

Happy feastday to everyone! May our own "Yeses" of faith find inspiration and draw strength from the Yes of Mary of Nazareth. Who is she that the world as we know it should acclaim? But we of (weak but striving) faith know better: God lovingly chose her (as He does with every human life; and that alone matters), and she honored this choice of God with her personal, humble assent, a Yes she responsibly carried along even on those roads that led to Calvary.

There is this beautiful reflection I read from Universalis; I posted about this before, but it is so powerful an exhortation I choose to write about it again today:

"There is one more truth that the Annunciation teaches us, and it is so appalling that I can think of nothing uplifting to say about it that will take the sting away: perhaps it is best forgotten, because it tells us more about God than we are able to understand. The Almighty Father creates heaven and earth, the sun and all the stars; but when he really wants something done, he comes, the Omnipotent and Omniscient, to one of his poor, weak creatures — and he asks.

And, day by day, he keeps on asking us."

Read more here: http://universalis.com/20130408/today.htm

*Originally posted on Facebook

Rejoicing with Mary, foremost among specials, God's beloveds

The Easter season is the height of our year as Christians.  The faith passed on to us by the earliest community of disciples tells us that this is the first feast, the foundation of everything that we believe and hold dear as followers of Christ, and therefore the fount of our hope: the Pasch of His--yes, His saving passion and death, and--resurrection.  St. Paul instructs us:

"Now, since our message is that Christ has been raised from death, how can some of you say that the dead will not be raised to life? If that is true, it means that Christ was not raised; and if Christ has not been raised from death, then we have nothing to preach and you have nothing to believe... then your faith is a delusion and you are still lost in your sins... But the truth is that Christ has been raised from death, as the guarantee that those who sleep in death will also be raised."
[Paraphrased from 1 Corinthians 15:12:20]

I have always looked forward to Easter.  This year, this affirmation was strengthened: Christ of course does not die and rise again every year during Holy Week.  His life on earth which culminated in His self-offering on the Cross and victory with the empty tomb was definitive: it has united heaven and earth once and for all, provided the best blueprint for the journey of each human being, and gave birth to a full relationship between God as Father and all of humanity and the rest of creation as family.  But for me and for each disciple walking the earth each year, how does the annual remembering and making present bring me to my own self-offering?  How does it crucify my indifference and mediocrity, and roll away the stone so that new life, genuine community and burning charity may arise?

I also look forward to Easter because of the beautiful prayer recited during this season in lieu of the Angelus: the Regina coeli (and not only because it is shorter compared to the Angelus).

I am moved by the thought that my second post on this blog will be about the first in the line of all those specials, God's beloveds; the first and faithful disciple: Mary of Nazareth, wife of Joseph the carpenter, mother of the Lord.

Queen of heaven, rejoice! Alleluia!
For He whom you did merit to bear, alleluia!
Has risen as He said!  Alleluia!
Pray for us to God, alleluia!

Mary was special not because she considered herself so; she was, and continues to be, because no less than the Creator of the universe found favor with her, so as to invite her to be the mother of His only begotten Son.

I pray to always see that I am special only in relation to God.  In the quest for meaning, fundamental to every human being, I believe that alone matters.

And to know full well that God, almighty, prime mover, perfect love, thinks of me and loves me, weak, hardly mobile at times (maybe not so much as physically, but in my opinions, in my "moving-on", in my decisions), and often unloving, and to allow this knowledge, this loving remembering by my God of me, to renew my life, to revive my charity, to rekindle my trust, then can I, with Mary, indeed "rejoice and be glad... for the Lord has truly risen, alleluia!"

Pedro

Pedro,
you are talked about a lot these days.
Even secular media is picking you up (thank God!).
Amazing to many and perhaps incredulous to others that a person who lived four centuries ago can create so much hype in post-modern society. Well, there will always be cynics, I guess.

But you are with us. In traditional and new media, in tarps, books, songs, even stuffed toys. You satisfy our human fascination for stars, for heroes, for persons who are "larger than life" through the choices that they make.

And I am happy that many young people are becoming aware of you: some of them, awed; some, probably dubious. Nonetheless. Questions can be doorways to faith. I only pray that...

...young people see beyond the hype of your canonization a tremendously wonderful possibility for themselves--that, yes, we too, can make decisions like you, leave comfort, familiarity and everything on the surface to "put out into the deep", and be like you,

...their adults see how your life and witness challenge them in how they are bringing up the youth of today: how often adults divorce faith and ordinary life and cause scandal among the youth, instead of stirring up the desire to live well-integrated lives,

...together, all of us, as God's family, can go forward into this Year of Faith, embrace these youth along with their questions, propose Jesus as the only meaningful answer with our own lives as testimonies, and become generous in giving our lives in the service of others, dying like you did a martyr's death whenever we choose to avoid saying an unkind word, to post a Gospel-inspired status in FB even if it may mean being called "uncool", to pray for and wish well those who malign us instead of fighting back, to study the faith when there are other, more "interesting" things to do, to believe in Christ and His Church when there are many things against doing so.

Pray for us, Pedro. Rouse in the hearts of Filipino youth like you the ardor of loyal and life-giving friendship, the courage to blaze noble trails in life, and the faith that is able to free because it comes from and yet leads to God.

*Originally posted on Facebook, 2012 October 18

Welcome, God's beloved!

The journey of a thousand words begins with the first click.

A decade ago, it would be the first stroke.  Or the first press on the typewriter keyboard.

Now, I begin my adventure as a blogger.  Prodded by a couple of friends (who found some of my FB posts inspiring but "blog-worthy" a.k.a. lenghty) and inspired by a few blogs, I started entertaining the idea of birthing my own blog.

It was no coincidence (my Tatay's favorite quote of late is "Coincidence is when our God wants to be anonymous") that I am creating this today, Easter Sunday of 2013, Year of Faith.  I resolved to do this in the Easter Vigil last night, with the name of my blog getting processed in my head while appreciating the homily (yeah, nice try).

Naming my blog "special, God's beloved" not only coincides with my initials, but also lends insight into what I desire this blog to be: an unfolding, yes, of my musings as special, as God's beloved, but firstly of God's unfathomable choice of loving me, of loving each human person, in a way only as God He can do--special, and of this relationship between Him and me as a human person.  Yes, this blog is about me, but only because I acknowledge and affirm that He has first chosen me in love, accompanies me faithfully each day, and forms me (at times gently; at others, surprisingly) to be His love to the "other", who, in truth, is "brother" (or sister).

Beginning this in the Year of Faith has become a conscious choice.  I hope this blog becomes a way for me to come to faith: listening to God's voice, discerning my response, and sharing my insights in the hope that others too come to faith.  Starting this on Easter Sunday 2013 is auspicious: may the joy and hope of the Risen Lord I profess to love and follow, though imperfectly, fill my every post, my every reply.

Thank you for listening to me.  In God's grace, I trust this unfolding brings me and you, too I hope, closer and closer to living who we truly are: beloved, special, God's.