XVIII 02

Don Bosco Academy, Mabalacat, Pampanga (Junior & Senior High School Building)

August 2, 2016.  It is one year since I arrived in the Philippines, after 15 years in Japan. I have come up with 5 realizations about myself and the things I am thankful for today. 

1) I left Japan with a heavy burden in my heart.  It was a combination of frustrations, disappointments, discontentment, discouragements. When that ANA plane left Haneda Airport that morning, I felt something light descend upon my heart.  When it landed in Manila, I felt I was finally free from all that burden. No. I do not blame whatever and whomever I encountered in Japan.  Perhaps (hopefully, perhaps!) they did not mean any harm.  It was just that things did not fit anymore with personal expectations... things did not anymore serve to make me grow in my vocation as a Catholic, a Salesian and as a priest. I saw the worst in myself in those years, at the same time that many in Japan (both Japanese and non-Japanese) were thankful they saw what they regarded was my best. After a year, I still feel a great tendency in me to block off from my memory anything that I experienced in Japan, sort of like an unconscious tendency for a voluntary amnesia.  But I consciously refuse to do that, with some effort!  I admit I came back to the Philippines convinced I did not meet God in Japan. But now, I am getting more and more convinced I was actually encountering Him there. The mode of meeting Him was not as comfortable as I had expected.  And I resolve to be patient that I can, piece-by-piece, reconstruct the puzzle He wanted me to solve through those years.

2) A man of God should never make definite plans. Once a man of God becomes a man of God, he cannot anymore make plans for himself.  God takes over.  He becomes in-charge of his life.  A 15-year old priest like me should have known that even before. But I only came to realize that 15 years later! I already had a big plan when I came back to the Philippines. I was planning to study, too! The contact persons were all listed. The virtual schedule, enthusiastically lined up.  But all the circumstances for all these plans were not dancing with time. I was made to wait. I was made to stand and sit on the sidelines, living far from where I could have been. There were times I felt people looked at me suspiciously, like some fugitive-priest hesitantly given the least harmful faculty -- offering mass. I faced myself in the mirror and saw a "jobless" priest. I even had to reckon where I should live while waiting. I did not want to be a burden to anyone.  But God had other plans.

3) There will always be someone who will treasure you, respect you and value you. I felt really awkward seeing some of the people I encountered in Japan hold back their tears in the few, accidental, unplanned despedida moments for me. I felt grateful for this particular former student who came to the rescue and offered me his place for some days. I felt loved by my father's text message telling me that I "was always welcome" at home. I felt I was treated as a real brother by the Salesians who offered their places for any pastoral opportunity. I felt I was a treasure to be invited by the Rector of Batulao to stay for an indefinite time for prayer, silence and rest. And when I remember those days when you all gave me some words of welcome, encouragement, consolation and invitation, my eyes still fill up with tears of joy.

4) Take it easy. Be quiet. Let God do the talking. The first month in Batulao saw me literally not having any assigned work. It was the first time in my life when I was the one willing not to do anything at all... And Prayer was the best I could do.  I have opted to make the usual working hours of the Salesians and the personnel as my time of silence.  In those moments, the Scriptures paved the way for my silence to listen to this Caring God.  God does correct things in us if we have swayed from what we are supposed to be for Him.  There were years in Japan when I have lost the taste and longing to pray... a result of the unwilling mixture of stress, depression and discouragement.  But He does care: He gave me those many "free" moments to bring back that longing for prayer, to replant that urge to pray, and to let blossom the joy of fulfilling that time I have to give for God, as a man of God.

5) Don Bosco paved the way. "Bob, you're asking for a sign? Well. Don Bosco's 200 years old!", as my good friend (a Salesian priest) told me a day before St. John Bosco's 200th Birth Anniversary. I arrived at the school where he was because I was invited to be part of the instruments for the Holy Mass the next day. I, who opted to go away from Don Bosco's Congregation, was being invited to be part of this important event! In those days of confusion and sense of loss, the same Don Bosco (through his Salesians) was there to tell me that everything would be alright. It has been more than 10 years since I have played the trumpet. I cannot really say I flunked.  I knew I couldn't sustain those 2nd octave notes that long anymore. But this wonderful opportunity paved the way for many, many more Salesian things!... Hearing Confessions of the Caritas Don Bosco students (for almost a month), staying in Batulao and being made to feel that I was never an outsider, the warm and brotherly love of the Salesian Community of Batulao, the trust they gave me to teach the young over there, those confessions and masses for student-retreatants who came, the Salesian events I was given the opportunity to participate, the welcoming attitude of the Salesians I met (many of whom asked, "Are you coming back?", with those happy, expecting eyes -- some were even so direct to say, "Welcome back!", even when I wasn't even that determined and decided to come back yet.  And, of course, the highlight of those wonderful months: the coming of the Rector Major... Being so blessed to find myself staying in the same place where he stayed with the other General Councillors.  Our Blessed Mother had always been there, giving me hints and signs that the Salesian way was, truly, the best WAY for me.  The approval for me to enter the ad experimentum stage (and to be the Spiritual Moderator of Don Bosco Mabalacat) was given to me by Fr. Provincial on the day Mary, Help of Christians was re-enthroned in Manila Cathedral!

Don Bosco Batulao Community with the Rector Major (center)

All through the year that passed, it was like Don Bosco had always been there, waiting, ready to embrace me and tell me, "I had been waiting for you all these years. I am so happy to have you back!"
... Me, too, Don Bosco!  I am so happy to be back! ... I have never been this happy in life!

(Written during the late hours of August 1, while assisting and accompanying a section of our Grade 9 students of Don Bosco Mabalacat.)

with the loving Community of Don Bosco Mabalacat

June 5, 2016. 10th Sunday in Ordinary Time. A Reflection.

It is 2 PM, Sunday afternoon.  It is hot here in Mabalacat.  

It is the 10th Sunday of that time in Church calendar we call, “Ordinary Time”.   Nothing to celebrate like Christmas or Easter Season. Nothing to truly say we are rejoicing except in that very basic, Christian principle of the Lord’s Resurrection.  Ah yes, that's what SUNDAY really is. 

Our readings today speak to us of one word… one important word… one essential word for us to live our life as real children of God: HUMILITY. 

I feel ashamed to talk about Humility.  Why? The answer is simple.                   I am proud.  

But all the same, I am a priest.  I have to talk about it.  

And all the same, I am called to practice what I preach, as what the bishop told me when he handed me the Book of the Gospels during my ordination as a deacon. 

Anyway, so what does it mean to be HUMBLE?

People in Israel a long time ago actually considered widows as one of the most unfortunate people in their society.  They lost their value when their husbands die.  In fact, it was for them (although, not only them) that the early Church started ordaining deacons, so that they would not feel neglected by the Christian Community.  Widows were nothing in society.  Yet, it was to a widow of Zarephath that Elijah was sent by God so that her son would come back to life.  It was to a widow of Nain that Jesus showed compassion by bringing his dead son back to life.  It was to people who were considered “nothing” that God showed His wonderful Heart.  So, OK, this is what it means to be humble… to be like those widows… to be NOTHING… to have NOTHING. There is nothing in us that can truly make us worthy to stand before God. Not our bank accounts.  Not our educational attainments.  Not our fulfillments and successes.  Nothing.  And when we acknowledge our Nothingness, we are humble… and God loves us all the more!  The humble delights not on his own nothingness, but on the mere fact that he ONLY has God. 

We can also be HUMBLE like St. Paul.  Such a brilliant man… strong, fiery, filled with zeal… able to organize groups that persecuted Christians in his time.  Yet, after his conversion, he was never ashamed to tell people about his proud and persecuting past.  So that is humility… ACKNOWLEDGING our past, with all its sins, mistakes, embarrassments… no matter how sordid or trivial it was.  We need not broadcast them to the world and pretend we are the most sincere people.  But a stinky past can truly be a good buffer for our pride.  Acknowledging in concrete terms our own sinfulness prevents us from judging others and from putting them into boxes.  The least we can do is worry if they still continue to wallow in the mud of objective error. 

To be HUMBLE is to be like Jesus.  He was able to see beyond the person.  He was able to see the needy, have compassion for them… and HELP them.  It takes Humility to truly help a person.  It is because we help them not because they need us, but because we know they have nothing to hold on to.  Helping the needy removes us from the trap of self-centeredness… from the realization that there are people poorer than us, people who suffer more than us, people who have more painful situations.  And it is never an accident that we can see them and have pity for them.  For God, there are no accidents. 

I know I am not humble.  But I have to be one.  

And I thank God He gave me hints!

It is 3 PM.  God has blessed us with a downpour!  Thank you, Lord, for rain!

HAPPY PRIEST, UNHAPPY PRIEST

It’s Holy Thursday.  Some people are still in the church before the Altar of Repose.  I have spent quite a good amount of time before the Blessed Sacrament and thoughts just come one after another in my mind... thoughts that all go back to one thing:  the Priesthood. 

I am happy as a priest.  Count me as one of those who agree that, really, the PRIESTHOOD is one great pool of happiness!  (http://www.forbes.com/sites/stevedenning/2011/09/12/the-ten-happiest-jobs/)   I have dreamt of becoming a priest from the age of 9.  I was graced to have that dream come true on December 8, 1999.  I still do believe, feel and affirm in my heart that AS A PRIEST, yes, I am happy. 

But yes, it is not the happiness that the world usually interprets as “happiness”.  It is not yet, though, the happiness that can only be felt in Heaven.  Although, I can say, “It’s close!”  It is a happiness that is mysteriously there but will always be quiet in front of worldly affairs.  It is a happiness that is restless, because no other worldly attraction satisfies it.  It is a happiness that is, indeed, a gift, a grace, and a challenge.  

Were there times when I, as a priest, felt sad, lonely and even hopeless?  Oh... lots of times!  And on this day, Holy Thursday, the day we commemorate Jesus establishing the Priesthood, I once again face myself and ask, “When were those times when I was not happy?”  And the answers were these:

1) I was not happy when I wanted to stand out.  As a priest, it is easy to stand out.  You become an instant celebrity.  People look at you.  People look up to you.  People regard you as a pandora’s box of talents.  And so I showed what I can do.  I gave what I can give.  I danced.  I sang.  I opened up every nook and corner of whatever speck of talent or ability that was taught, developed or even experimented upon in my seminary years and thereafter.  You walk into a room and someone will shout your name after that “Father!”  Ah... the delight of being known in the midst of a crowd!... and that person’s not even a relative!  But let me be honest:  I do not really stand out when I realize there are experts before me.  They are the real ones.  I was a master-of-none.  

2) I was not happy when I craved for some special attention from specific people.  Call it whatever you like.  Interpret it in any way you like.  A best friend, a close friend, a friend-friend!  A parishioner, a student, a child.  An admirer, a messenger, a fan.  The world will call us “lonely”.  A lot of people sigh that it is such a waste we are alone.  And as human beings, there are times when we look for acceptance, friendship and attention a level higher than ordinary acquaintance, a level deeper than ordinary colleagues.  But let me be honest:  when I catch myself craving for the extra attention or that special acceptance, I realize that there is one important person whom I have ignored all along --  JESUS CHRIST. 

3) I was not happy when I longed for more things.   People love to gift priests.  They know in their hearts that giving us priests this thing or that, they, in some way, fulfill what Jesus, Himself, said,  “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple—amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” (Matthew 10:42)   Priests get financial assistance in the form of salary or allowance, too.  And since a lot of people give cash, goods and food to priests, they end up using the money they have for other things... things that surely do not really fit into the category of what we call “simple”, both in the eyes of the world and in the eyes of Gospel.    There wasn’t a few times when I was looking and craving to buy at the electronic store -- a new camera, the latest smartphone, the best laptop, a unique gadget.  I scanned and scanned through new clothes, shoes, caps and bags.  But let me be honest:  the more I come to have something, the more I craved for something new.  And the more I craved for more, the more I felt sad at one thing -- the reality of dissatisfaction.

4) I was not happy when my creativity was beyond the bounds of priesthood.  God has gifted me with words.  I can be creative with this gift.  God has given me other gifts.  I can be creative with them, too.  But let me be honest:  when I use my creativity outside church apostolate, when I use my creativity to spite, insult or put people down, when I use my creativity to make others selfish, materialistic or vain, I feel being thrown into a great void.  I have this great, nauseating feeling that I have wasted something.  It sometimes make me vomit just thinking I have thrown away something more valuable than losing a million pesos.  Who in the world becomes happy with that feeling?  

5) I was not happy when I got satisfied with the thought, “I am just the same as the rest.”  Oh yes, be with the people.  Or, as Pope Francis would say, have the “same smell as the sheep.”  I actually thought I had to be like the sheep.  I actually though I had to be, talk, move, dress up like the sheep.  I had “to blend” with the rest.  Let the people realize that goodness exists among them.  Eat what they eat.  Drink what they drink. Dance even wilder than any of them.  But let me be honest:  I realized that my line of thought was actually the thought of the Laity.  I forgot that I am of the Ordained.  

6) I was not happy when I did not pray.  This is obvious.  We have always been taught that the priest is an “Alter Christus” (another Christ).  A priest who does not communicate with the One he stands for will never be a true priest.  A priest who forgets that his prayer is never just a personal one, but that he must pray first the prayer of the Church, for the Church, will never grow and bear fruit.  But let me be honest:  l always struggle to pray.  And when I do not pray, I get more uneasy.  And when I get more uneasy, I look for other consolations the world can offer, consolations that I have conditioned myself to have.  And when I succumb to these worldly consolations, I get so thirsty in my heart... and I long for God.  Isn’t prayer that longing for God?  Yet, I find myself not praying...

... and the battle goes on.  

                                                                                         (photo courtesy of Ted Barrera)

To you who read this, please pray for this unworthy priest.