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!

OLD WAYS, NEW CHRISTMAS

My first FULL Christmas in the Philippines… FULL Christmas, i.e., Simbang Gabi (Christmas Novena masses) included, after 15 years!

I was asked by the parish priest of my hometown (Binan) to help in the Simbang Gabi masses in two places near our house.   Perhaps because the masses were all done in the evening, I did not feel that tired to do the whole 9 days.  On the contrary, I felt there was much energy within me.  I felt more patient.  I felt more prayerful and reflective.  I felt there was so much to teach the people.  I felt the need to take advantage of the homilies to input some catechetical things to the people.  I was happy there were so many children in both masses.  I felt so grateful there were dedicated lay people who were there to organize, mobilize and animate the people.  Special mention goes to the Extraordinary Ministers of the Holy Eucharist and the altar servers who were always there in fair and rainy days.  I looked forward to these days.  I never felt tired.  I always felt challenged. 

On the last day, I was asked by the parish priest to also offer the Holy Mass in the nearby poor area.  (They always had the Liturgy of the Word and Communion only on the first 8 days!)  It was my 3rd novena mass for the night.  The choir was a group of poor kids, but they sang like angels with such great sense of harmony!  I was touched by the fervor of the people.  I was almost moved to tears, that on the last day of the novena for Christmas, I was offering the Holy Mass with the poorest of the poor.  I knew God was saying something here.  I knew this was really Christmas!

The 24th. Christmas Eve.  I asked the parish priest if I could concelebrate during the 10 PM Holy Mass.  The parish priest offered the 8 PM mass.  The 10 PM mass was supposed to be celebrated by the Assistant Parish Priest.  But because of some problems with traffic and the chaos of stalls, people, tricycles and cars, the Assistant Parish Priest could not arrive on time, and I was asked to start the Holy Mass as the Main Celebrant.  Oh yes, God’s great gift!… I was the main celebrant for the Christmas Eve mass of the parish church of my hometown!  Great Liturgy!  The altar was well prepared.  The altar servers were well dressed and were very solemn.  The grand choir was really grand!  The Christmas Manger was well prepared.  And the many, many faithful who came!  Many times during the mass, I found myself almost in tears.  “This is the Christmas I came from… THIS is the Christmas I came back to!”… and this is all a blessing… grace upon grace!

For this Christmas, I was given the grace of new friends, of new acquaintances, of a milder return to long-undone customs, of good laughs and wonderful exchange, of a feeling that says, “If only this were a continuous thing!”  Ah yes, this Christmas, God seems to tell me that I have already learned from my simple Japan Christmases and it’s time to go back to what I have first gone through in the past.  This time, the WORD MADE FLESH is an experience that takes on a more mature and deeper dimension of Faith.  It is funny though… this realization came from very simple experiences from usual and simple expectations!  (No wonder Jesus was born in a SIMPLE way!)

My first Christmas in the Philippines 

after all these years….

It just confirmed 

I have made the right choice to go back.  

And I am just filled with so much gratitude. 

Happy Birthday, dear Jesus!

NOTHING

There is something in being nothing. 

There is worth in being worthless. 

There is value in being unknown. 

This is what I understand and feel these days. 

I am not defined by what I am doing.  I am not ascribed as to what position I hold.   I am not even recognized with whom I belong.  There is nothing in me these days that can actually make me hold on to emphasize my value.  I cannot highlight what I did in the past precisely because it is past.  I cannot boast of anything that I have done because they all become irrelevant in this particular place, this particular time and situation.  This is just me.  

And, honestly, there is never any feeling of self-hate, self-condemnation or self-pity. 

Just. Me. 

Oh yes… there is something that holds on to being “me”… just one:  the Priesthood!

… something I cannot put aside, ignore 

or even pretend that it does not exist in me. 

The Priesthood is the only thing 

that brings me to understand myself. 

The Priesthood is the only thing 

that makes me look at the past as moments of learning, 

and that the future should be the generous response. 

The Priesthood is the only thing 

that makes me see the present 

as movements of the Hands of God.  

And all the rest is GRACE. 

FOR BETTER THINGS

It’s 7:23 PM here in Japan.

Just a few more hours and we bid 2011 goodbye. Well, with the great suffering a lot of people, especially in Northeastern Japan, had experienced and are still going through even in this cold, cold evening, who would want to remain in 2011? Who would want to say 2011 was a great year, he’d like to let time stop.

No one.

No one likes to stay suffering. No one enjoys suffering at all. Even if one has the courage to face suffering, it does not really mean he enjoys it. In the inner cries of a sincere heart, he can only pray to the Lord to make him be free from this cross that he carries. He only carries this cross because he knows it leads to better things.

Yes, better things.

Whenever we celebrate the New Year, it is a way to tell our own hearts, a way to encourage our families, a way to show to our communities (and the world!) that we long for better things, we want to be better persons, we resolve to build a better world.

No wonder they (the Church “people”) always encourage prayer in New Year... silent prayer. More than the loud music, the parties, the booze, the noise of firecrackers... there is no other more “deafening” than SILENCE. Is there any better way to welcome the New Year than silent prayer? Don’t we all long for better things? Ah yes, better things come without the distractions, without the decorations, without the externalities. Better things will come from within.

As you welcome the New Year, STOP. Keep quiet. Pray.

We long for better things. Let us immediately opt for the One who is far better than food, far better than wine, far better than any noise, any laughter, any boom.

It’s 2012. We are for the BETTER!

image taken from: http://scripture-for-today.blogspot.com/2010_11_01_archive.html

And So I Resolve

It's March 16, Wednesday, 7:21 pm here in Kamakura.

It is only 5 degrees Celsius outside, but it is nothing compared to the cold of those affected in Northeast Japan. They have suffered so much: the earthquake, the tsunami, the threat of radiation. And now, they suffer more: the snow, the cold, the lack of food, drinking water, a hot bath.... And so, I resolve not to complain about 5 degrees.

It is 15 degrees in my study room now... a far cry from the cold darkness of whoever might still be under the ruins left by the tsunami, or in some car hoisted somewhere by the violent waves of March 11. And so, I resolve not to complain about 15 degrees.

It is the 3rd hour that we have electricity tonight after a 4-hour power interruption. Electricity is being rationed around the country as 6 nuclear reactors are being repaired, with one in Fukushima on the brink of a meltdown. But what's a 4-hour loss of electricity to a lifetime loss of loved one up north? And so, I resolve not to complain about power outages.

It is cold in my room now. All around the country, everybody is asked to cooperate to save as much electricity. It is quite uncomfortable to work indoors with your thick winter jacket on. My metal desk is just too strong cold despite the blanket on my legs. My ankles are cold, and so are my feet. But what are these compared to those who have lost not just heaters and blankets, but their whole house, their farm, their fishing boats... yes, their source of living. And so, I resolve not to complain about saving electricity.

It is so quiet now in Kamakura. I have already gotten used to the local and foreign tourists coming over. But these days are just too quiet. Yet, what have I to say when confronted with many cities and towns bereft of even the annoying sound of a railroad crossing siren, places that have been erased from the map by the unforgiving sea. And so, I resolve not to complain about the silence.

It is just so irritating -- these itchy eyes, this runny nose, this pollen allergy! No matter how much you put those new "minus ion" ointments, no matter how devoted you put drops in your eyes, the allergy will never go away. But what is this compared to the many old people whose maintenance medicines were forgotten and washed away by the tsunami. What is this to the usual call of the evacuees of the lack of medicine, just a little dose that can extend their life and see their cities and towns come back again. And so, I resolve not to complain about my pollen allergy.

It is just confusing! No, it's not the government. It's not the long lines at supermarkets and gas stations. It's not the stubborn aftershocks and plate movements under. It's the many news that come out, and many of them edited to sow over-reaction. It's the many opinions of people who feign knowledge of almost anything from nuclear science to social work and rescue. It's the many words that get written on social networks and comment boxes that make you tempted to hate, to get selfish, or just plainly to discriminate. Yet, there are a lot of people out there who cannot even get hold of any computer to mail their loved ones, people who have to fall in line and use specially set-up phones for just one minute to call their relatives and tell them they made it out, people who have no other words to say in front of TV cameras but cry and hope their loved ones might be in another far away shelter. And so, I resolve not to complain about the confusion.

And if there is anyone who has the right to complain right now,

it is the grandmother who left her glasses in that washed-away house,

it is the town mayor who saw 20 of his workers washed away by the waves as they held on the railing of their 3-floor town hall,

it is the father who cries because not even one photograph was left,

it is the high school kid who might have passed the university exams but cannot go any further, it is the little girl who still does not know if her parents are alive or not,

it is the baby who has not even a good clean diaper for change,

it is the farmer who has lost his land or has his land tainted by radiation,

it is the old man who knows that destruction is never the end and prays that he sees the rebirth of the place he has always called "home".

And so I resolve not to complain.

And so I resolve to offer any whatever can be made into a worthy prayer and sacrifice.

And so I resolve to wait and get my chance to help.

Photo taken from http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2011/03/14/article-1366155-0B2A6F2600000578-79_634x470.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1366155/Japan-earthquake-tsunami-4-month-old-baby-girl-father-reunited-Ishinomaki.html&usg=__val68k-GtoRcKg1tLfvgaGwXxNE=&h=470&w=634&sz=108&hl=en&start=13&zoom=1&tbnid=eXtvsA5iqIuxIM:&tbnh=102&tbnw=137&ei=3MCATaLsBcrXcf_zpeIG&prev=/images%3Fq%3DJapan,%2Bbaby%2Bfound%26um%3D1%26hl%3Den%26client%3Dsafari%26sa%3DN%26rls%3Den%26biw%3D1176%26bih%3D1084%26tbs%3Disch:10%2C6&um=1&itbs=1&biw=1176&bih=1084