FEVER

Wednesday of the 22nd Week in Ordinary Time

Lk 4:38-44

I am nursing a fever as I write this reflection. I know how the Simon’s mother-in-law felt before Jesus healed her. When you are sick you cannot do your routine. It can be irritating. When you are sick you cannot do what you want to do. It can be disappointing. When you are sick, the best thing to do is to listen to your body’s protest and just rest. The more you delay doing this, the more you get sick. The more you get sick, the more you get irritated and disappointed. Healing begins when you submit your self and let nature heal itself. I confess, quite often I am hardheaded and continue working even as I nurse a fever.

Jesus standing over Simon’s mother-in-law is a rather dramatic symbol of Simon’s mother-in-law submitting herself to Jesus. Jesus, who is not only the Healer but the very Healing Himself, has power over everything that afflicts our human nature. When He stands over us, we lie at His feet. Lying at the feet of Jesus is surrendering our selves to Jesus. This is the beginning of healing.

The Gospel today says that Jesus healed not only by standing over the sick. He touched them. He laid His hands on them and cured them.

No one can be healed without being touched. Doctors have to check on their patients. Patients must allow their doctors to touch them if they want to get healed. It is unthinkable that the first thing a sick man tells his doctor is “Do not touch me”. While cancer cells do sometimes metastasize when touched, healing does not also happen without the miracle of human touch. The touch of Jesus is miracle in itself.

To surrender our selves to Jesus means to allow Jesus to touch us. Submitting our selves to Him should give Him the freedom to do whatever He wishes to accomplish in us. But beware! Jesus may touch us where it hurts most. Will we be willing to be touched by Him no matter the pain? Do we really want to get healed by His touch no matter the hurt?

While fever of the body is an easy illness to cure, fever of the soul may be more difficult to nurse. But both can be healed. We really know how. But are we truly willing?

NOISY DEMONS!

30 August 2005
Tuesday in the Twenty-Second Week of the Ordinary Time

Lk4:31-37

Demons believe in God. Of course, believing is not the same as obeying. Demons believe in God but they refuse to obey Him. “Non serviam!” ("I will not serve!") – this is the battle cry of Lucifer and his demonic legion. Demons are not afraid of God. If they are they will not challenge God, in the first place. In today’s Gospel, they even taunt Jesus, the Son of God: “Ha! What have You to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who You are – the Holy One of God!” St. James wrote in his epistle, “You believe that there is one God. Good! Even the demons believe that--and shudder” (Jas 2:19). This truth is very frightening!

Because demons believe in God and are not afraid of God, anyone can be possessed by them. Yes, even a person who enters the church, crosses himself with holy water, hears the Mass, and appears like a saint can actually be possessed by demons. That demons melt when sprinkled with holy water happens only in the movies. That demons turn to ashes when merely shown the crucifix is good only for cinematic plot. That demons usually manifest themselves as abominable creatures is not always true. Demons may disguise themselves as holy, friendly, and attractive. Demons are deceivers. Beware!

But though they believe in God and are not afraid of Him, demons are powerless before Jesus, the Son of God. Believing in God and not being afraid of Him does not mean stronger than God. Remember, St. James said that in believing in one God the demons shudder. Deceivers as they are, demons are stripped of their disguises when the Incarnated Word of God, Jesus, cast them out from the person they possess. They are no match to the power of Jesus. Cling to Jesus.

In our world today, we need to recover our lost sense of fear of evil. Evil is real. Many are no longer afraid of demons because the world, especially through the mass media, has trivialized evil. We must remain vigilant. We must beware anywhere, including in the Church. St. Peter the Apostle warns us: “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour” (1 Pet 5:8). We must remain in Christ because He alone has power over evil. Yes, demons know and believe in Jesus’ identity. Yes, they even dare challenge Him. But they never win.

“Be quiet!” Jesus rebukes the demons today. Do we hear Him say the same thing to us now?

A FUNNY STORY OF THE HEADLESS

Memorial of The Beheading of John the Baptist

Mk 6:17-29

The Gospel today gives us the account of why and how John the Baptist lost his head. I cannot help but smile when I read this story. Sometimes I can even imagine Mark the Evangelist grinning as he wrote this narrative. It is almost comic!

John the Baptist, who, as the story tells us, lost his head, is the only person in the Gospel today who has a head after all. All the characters in this account are headless. King Herod was headless because he was so stupid to swear that he would give to Herodias’ daughter anything even half his kingdom. How could he be such a moron?!? Herodias’ daughter was headless because she could not make her own decision about what to ask from the king. She even had to inquire from her mother what to ask and made her mother’s decision hers simply because she had none of her own. How could she be such a loser?!? Herodias was already headless even before this incident because she did not mind living in with her husband’s brother, even as she remains married to her husband. Perhaps, she had beauty; but she had no brains. The guests of King Herod were all headless, too, because not one of them protested against the murder of John the Baptist. No one, at least, tried to advise the king that it was all right and more honorable to take back his bad oath. The headless king cannot keep a company except that which was headless too.

John alone had the head to know whom to trust: God alone. John was the only person in the story who had the head to know and live by what is true, moral and godly. Funny, they were all headless except John. Sad, they had John beheaded too. But the Lord keeps the story of John the Baptist in our heads so that we may follow the heroic faith of John.

Next time we think we are the only ones who have heads while the rest are headless, think again. (Well, that is if we really have the head to think with.)

THE LAW OF THE CROSS

Twenty-Second Sunday in Ordinary Time

Mt 16:21-27

Simon Peter loves Jesus. He left his fishing trade for Him. He exchanged his family for Him. He believes that He is the Christ, the Son of the Living God. He is willing to die for Him. He will protect and defend Him from any assault. He loves Him and wishes no harm to fall upon Him. But today Jesus calls Simon Peter “Satan”.

Immediately the Gospel reminds us of a very important lesson in life: Not all people who want to shield us from pain are true friends. Our relationship with people is now oriented by our relationship with God. Only people who help us obey God – no matter what obeying God entails – are our true friends. All the rest are enemies, adversaries, “Satan”. For “Satan” means anyone who hinders us from fulfilling God’s will in our life. Anyone who is an obstacle to our discipleship is a “Satan”. We might be surprised to realize that many of the people we call “friends” are actually “Satan” when measured against our relationship with God. Our relationship with God is the only criterion for our relationship with people. Our discipleship mainly defines our friendship.

No one draws a plan that includes failure. We may prepare for incidental set-backs but we do not intentionally make defeat an important factor in our scheme towards success. But not so with Jesus. His victory is precisely in His seeming defeat. His resurrection is already in His death. His power is in His cross.

If the ultimate joy of any disciple is indeed in becoming like the Master, there is no other way for us but to include death in our living and to welcome the cross in our following Him. This does not mean that we create our own cross and cause our own death. This does not mean that we go around and carry the cross of others. This does not mean that we foolishly risk our selves so as to die and call our death “an offering to God.” It means, rather, that if fulfilling the will of God demands our life, we are willing to lay it down. It means that if persecution, trials, sickness, and even death are consequences of obedience to God, we will still obey Him. It means that if in following Jesus we are brought right before the cross, we will not simply stare at the cross, much less run away from it, but rather carry the cross and, with Jesus, be crucified to it.

It is totally absurd to include failure in our vision of victory. It is completely illogical to welcome defeat in our plan for triumph. This is, in the words of Fr. Bernard Lonergan, a respected Jesuit theologian, “The Law of the Cross”. And as the maxim says, “Dura lex sed lex.” “The law is hard but it is the law.” There is no other way by which we can become like Jesus except through the Law of the Cross.

The Law of the Cross is not a set of commandments. The Law of the Cross is a spirituality of dying and rising and dying and rising and dying and rising with Christ. It is the law of laying down one’s life as Jesus did in obedience to the Father and thereby becoming life itself. It is the law of love that kept Jesus crucified on the cross more than what the nails in His hands and feet could accomplish. It is the law of loving like Jesus, living like Jesus, dying like Jesus, and rising like Jesus. The Law of the Cross is the Paschal Mystery of the Lord.

“Unless the grain of wheat falls to the earth and dies, it remains a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (Jn 12:24) – this is the Law of the Cross. “I came that you may have life and life in abundance” – this is the spirit of the Law of the Cross. The Law of the Cross is the life of any disciple. It is our life. It is our life after having been found by the Love that searched for us and made us see as it searched for Zaccahaeus and restored the sight of the man born blind. To hinder it is to be lost again. To stifle it is to be blind again. To deviate from it is to be Satan.

Simon Peter cannot accept the reality of the cross in the life of Jesus whom he has just acknowledged to be the Christ in the verses that immediately precede the Gospel today. This clearly shows to what direction human inclination is usually bent. It is the direction that points to gain without pain, to glory without agony, to discipleship without the cross. This is not the path that lies ahead every follower of Jesus. This is, rather, the road that leads to hell. This is not where Jesus is inviting us. He beckons us to the Kingdom of God.

Once a man talked to the Lord and said, “Lord, I want to cross the seas and reach the shores of heaven. What boat should I sail with?” Jesus answered, “The cross.” A second time the same man said to Jesus, “If heaven were above the ground, tell me, Lord, what ladder should I climb?” The Lord answered, “The cross.” A third time the same man asked the Lord, “If I were standing right outside the gates of heaven, O Lord, what key should I turn?” And Jesus answered, “The cross.”

There is no other way for us, disciples of Jesus, but the way of the cross. There is no other life for us, lovers of the Lord, but the Law of the Cross. But there is no other end that awaits us except the resurrection.

We do not have to wait till our sufferings on account of the Gospel cease before we experience the glory of our discipleship. As it is for John the Evangelist and for Fr. Lonergan the Jesuit theologian, let us already see in our sufferings our glory, in our defeat our victory, in our death our rising, in our cross our graces. St. Paul wrote in one of his epistles, “I count everything rubbish except to share in the cross of Christ.” Way back in my seminary days, I fell in loved with a song we sing in the liturgy:

Only this I want
but to know the Lord;
and to bear His cross
so to wear the crown
He wore.

We already wear His crown even as we bear His cross.

SHE WAS SILENT BUT GOD HEARD HER

Memorial of St. Monica (A.D. 331-387)
Lk 7:11-17

After graduation from the Ateneo de Manila University in 1988, the seminary sent us to a year of regency before proceeding to theological studies. With a classmate, I was assigned to Bukidnon, Mindanao. But I was not able to complete my regency year because before Christmas of that year I left the seminary without any notice. I took a bus ride from Mindanao to Manila and just appeared suddenly on our doorsteps exactly on Christmas evening. Without doubt, the whole family was very much surprised to see me home when I should be back only when my regency year is over. When I left the seminary, I caused my dad and mom great sorrow. My dad was very vocal about his disapproval with my sudden decision while my mom kept silent. My dad even said, “I told you! I told you! I didn’t want you to enter the seminary in the first place. Now that you’ve already spent many years in the seminary, you left it just like that. You have barely four years to go before you become a priest. Why quit now? Why did you not leave the seminary earlier than now?” His sadness and resentment were very evident. I could almost see them even with my eyes closed. But not my mom. Mom was silent all throughout, from the day I suddenly left the seminary through the day I decided to re-enter it. She remained as solicitous to me as she was when I was still a seminarian. While eventually my dad stopped talking to me, mom, despite her silence on the matter of my leaving the seminary, kept our communication lines open. But both of them were greatly hurt by my unexpected decision. They always thought I had no other dream but to become a priest. One day, Cyril, my best friend talked to me and said, “Bob, have you talked with mommy?” “We talk. Why?” I replied. “No,” Cyril retorted, “I mean, have you talked with her about your having left the seminary?” I answered, “No.” “You better talk with her,” Cyril said. “No need. She seems to be comfortable with my having left the seminary anyway,” I said. “That’s what you think,” Cyril revealed, “She cries to me each time we talk about your having left the seminary so suddenly.” “O, does she? I don’t see her cry about it,” I said. Cyril said, “But of course! You don’t see her cry because she cries to me.” St. Monica, whose blessed memory we celebrate today, was one mother who cried a lot. She cried about Augustine who lived a wayward life. She cried to God. She prayed with tears for his conversion. Her tears were her prayers for her son. God heard her prayers and He brought Augustine to conversion from all his many sins. But that was not all. God made Augustine so holy and learned so much so that Augustine became a bishop by popular clamor and spent his life defending the faith through philosophy and theology. Today, Augustine is one of the great saints and doctors of the Church. Thanks to the prayers of a weeping mother. In the Gospel today, we hear that the Lord does not only give life back to a dead man. He also gives back a living son to his mourning mother. In the feast today, we remember that the Lord did not grant the prayers of a weeping mother. He also gifted the Church with a great saint in the person of her son. In my life, I am a witness to how the Lord heard the silence of my mother’s heart. And I continue to witness it. When a holy mother cries, the heart of God melts. Her tears are her prayers.

COMMON SENSE

Friday of the Twenty-First Week in Ordinary Time
Mt 25:1-13

The unfortunate thing about common sense is that it is not at all common. One cannot be sure if he or she possesses common sense until he or she is confronted with a situation that demands for it. It never fails to surprise us when we realize that common sense is not at all common to a supposedly intelligent person. Common sense is not learned in books or schools. It is not something that can be bought or passed on. But every normal person is gifted with common sense. Common sense becomes uncommon only because many fail to use it. Unfortunately, because many do not use their common sense, many commit irreversible mistakes and suffer their tragic consequences. Common sense must not only be possessed. It must be used. Not using common sense is as good as not having it. The regret is always in the end when a terrible end could have been avoided had common sense been put to use. The five virgins in the Gospel today who did not bring oil for their lamp did not use their common sense. Why will anyone bring a lamp without enough oil to burn? And if one is not sure how long the vigil will last, should common sense not dictate that extra oil be secured ahead of time? Since every normal person has common sense, anyone who does not use it is foolish. Thus the five virgins in the parable today were foolish. Like them, anyone who does not use his or her common sense has no future but a world of regrets. Salvation requires common sense too. Being saved is not a matter of earning a doctorate degree in theology. Salvation demands love, and love requires common sense always. Heaven is not for the intelligent only. But it certainly is for those who, gifted with common sense, use their common sense in whatever love requires. While salvation is purely God’s gift, being saved needs using our common sense always, too. When someone is dying of hunger, we do not go to the library to research what poverty means; we feed the hungry and create livelihood programs. When someone is wounded, we do not only pray for healing; we bind his wounds. When someone is mourning, we do not explain his grief; we mourn with him. When someone falls into a ditch, we do not debate about what mistakes he committed made him fall; we help him out of the pit. Too many deeds of love are left undone because too many people either refuse or forget to use their common sense. If love were the oil that keeps our lamp burning as we wait for the coming of the Lord, common sense will normally tell us how much oil we must bring to His wedding feast. Common sense – have it, use it. Deeds of love – do it, persevere in it. Remember, keep the lamps burning!

WAKE UP, SLEEPY HEAD!

Thursday of the Twenty-First Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 24:42-51

Some people are described in Tagalog this way: Madikit lang ang likod, tulog agad! They are people who fall asleep rather fast and easy. While some people are described this way, there are also people who are seen sleeping in any possible position and in any possible venue. There are those who can sleep while seated and those who can sleep even while up on their feet! And they can do it almost anywhere – inside the church, in a theatre, in a public transportation, in a bathtub, in the classroom, in the office…and yes, believe it or not, even in the senate!

While some people fall asleep easily and quickly, there are also people who are difficult and too slow to be wakened up. They are said to sleep like a log. In Tagalog, we say, “Naku, daig mo pa ang mantika kung matulog!” Sometimes their beds are already burning but these “logs” can hardly feel the heat as they continue snoring. Alarm clocks are embarrassed by this kind of sleepers.

But there are also those who are rather light sleepers. Again in Tagalog, they are described as “mababaw kung matulog” or “tulog-lamok”. They wake up at the slightest movement inside the room. Sometimes they even answer a question when asked even as they sleep. They also do not need alarm clocks because their biorhythm is on even before the alarm sets off.

Which among these three kinds of people are we?

“Stay awake, because you do not know the day when your master is coming,” Jesus warns us in the Gospel today. But how can we hear His warning if we are already sleeping and we sleep like a log?

By the way, are you still there reading this reflection or have I already lost you in dreamland?

Hoy, gising!!! (Hey, wake up!!!)

NATHAN EL

Feast of St. Bartholomew, Apostle
Jn 1:45-51

There is little we know about Bartholomew. In the story about how he met Jesus, he was not even called “Bartholomew”, but Nathanael. Because in Hebrew, the word “bar” means son of, Bartholomew indicates whose son Nathanael was. He was “bar Tholomei”, the “son of Tholomei”. This is how we commonly refer to him nowadays. If Nathanael’s father were alive with us today, he would indeed be a “proud” father. He sired an apostle of Jesus. And we all remember that apostle by his father’s name! If my father were still alive today, he would be seventy-one years old. When I was thirteen years old and asked his permission to let me enter the seminary to study for the priesthood, we would not let me had my mother not intervened. His reason was a classic: “You are my only son,” he said, “and you cannot be a priest because no one else will pass on our name.” But when I left the seminary just before beginning my theological studies – the last phase among the many – I caused him (and of course, my mother, too) great sorrow. He would not want me leave the seminary anymore! On my ordination day, dad walked down the aisle of the Manila Cathedral with a joy so overwhelming that his otherwise shy character could not hide. It has been ten years now since the day of my ordination and sometimes I catch my self wondering if dad, in heaven, still beams with immense joy for having sired a priest of the Lord. But, aside from relatives and close friends, very few people remember my father. If I were Nathanael, I would be called “Barcarlos”, “Roberto Barcarlos”, “Roberto son of Carlos.” But I am not Nathanael, and people call me “Father Bobby”. But both Nathanael and I are gifts of God to our fathers even before we are their gifts to Him. “Nathan” means “gift” in Hebrew. “Nathan-el” is “gift of God”. Nathanael and I are gifts of God. That is what every apostle is – a gift of God. That is also what every priest is – a “nathan el”. That is exactly what we ought to strive to be – God’s gift.

CLEAN AND BEAUTIFUL

Tuesday of the Twentieth Year in Ordinary Time
Mt 23:23-26

We, Filipinos, are said to be a people overly conscious about cleanliness. Advertisements in television, radio and print media clearly support this impression on us. One does not need the help of a professional survey agency to conclude that advertisements on bath soap, hair shampoo and conditioner, laundry soap, detergents, oral sanitation and woman’s personal hygiene top the list of what we see on television, hear on the radio, and read in magazines and in the dailies. Many take a bath three times a day. Many hand wash their laundry because they say washing machines do not clean well. And still many spend a fortune for cosmetics, including cosmetic surgery. We do not want to be clean only; we also want to be beautiful or, at least, presentable. The above observation does not include yet our great concern with keeping our homes, offices, and surroundings clean. Consumer products that offer answers and help to this concern likewise flood the mass media. Cleanliness is simply our obsession. It is therefore understandable why we were highly indignant against an American actress who came to shoot a film in the country and left saying our country is a haven of cockroaches (I forgot the name of that actress, but not her ungrateful regard for her hospitable host). There is, of course, nothing wrong about maintaining cleanliness, personal or otherwise. Being clean and beautiful is likewise not out of order but is very much praiseworthy. But are we really clean? Are we really beautiful? Our elections are always marred with fraud – even if not massive as post-election reports often say – not only because candidates cheat but because many among us sell their votes. Are we clean? Countless of our people are living in shanties while a handful have tracks of land for their golf courses. Are we beautiful? We cry for justice on behalf of victims of human rights violation but not a few violate the rights of the unborn even as abortion is presently illegal in the Philippines and always a grave sin in the Catholic Church. Are we clean? We are famous for our lavish fiestas but many of our people are so poor that all they can feast on are the leftovers from the table of the rich which are even being sold after re-cooked. Are we beautiful? Our churches are jam packed on Sundays but so are beerhouses where lewd shows are performed. Are we clean? We are known for being the one Christian nation in the Far East but we are also among the top ten most corrupt countries in the world. Are we beautiful? Clean, beautiful, who? We? Would Jesus not condemn us as He does to the scribes and the Pharisees in the Gospel today? Are we not blind guides too? When we, as Filipinos, go to do mission in lands yet to be evangelized, we say, “Come and become like us!” The people we evangelize may well scoff at us and say, “What, become like you? We are better off without you and your message. Blind guides!”

FULL OF GRACE

Memorial of the Queenship of the Blessed Virgin Mary

Lk 1:26-38

Mary is queen not because she is the wife of Christ the King. Mary is queen because she is the mother of Christ the King. But it was not from Mary that Christ Jesus, her Son, received His kingship. Rather, it was because Christ Jesus is King that Mary is queen. Mary participates in the kingship of her son. Just as in all Marian feasts, the truth affirmed by today’s celebration is about Jesus more than about Mary. Jesus is Lord and Ruler of all creation. His kingship is not delegated to Him, but His from all eternity. Because His kingship is inherent in Him and not a delegated role, Jesus can make anyone He so desires to participate in His royalty. He desires Mary, His mother, to be queen. Thus, the queenship of Mary is at the service of Christ the King. Mariology is always a function of Christology. Because Mary’s queenship is a participation in the kingly ministry of her Son, Jesus, her queenship is far from lording over. Like the kingship of Jesus, it is a ministry, a role of service, a position taken by Jesus and symbolized by His washing of the feet of His disciples during the Last Supper. Mary’s queenship is not absolute power. Like the obedience of her Son, she submits her entire will to the holy will of the Father. It is a queenship that does not confine her far from the rest of humanity. According to the pattern of her Son, she remains in our midst and makes access to her always available to us. Mary is not only our queen; she is our mother, too. Mary is the most unlikely person to attribute queenship to her self. She calls her self “the maidservant of the Lord” instead. But those who regard themselves lowly are exalted by the Most High. Thus, the Almighty has done great things for her, and we join her proclaim, “Holy is His name!” The queenship of Mary is not about crown, scepter and throne. It is, as always, about Jesus. And the crown of Jesus is made of thorns, His scepter is a nail on each hand and foot, and His throne is the cross. What an absurdity! But graces are absurdities in life, don’t you think so? And Mary is full of grace.

SURVEY

Twenty-First Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mt 16:13-20

In this day and age, surveys are very popular. The approval of the President is rated by surveys conducted by different agencies. The opinion of the people on the impeachment case against the present Philippine President and her proposal for amending the Constitution and changing the form of government are topics for survey. The various radio and television networks are evaluated by surveys. The popularity of candidates in the “American Idol” or our own “Starstruck” and “Star Circle Quest” are also known through surveys via short message sending or SMS. Even prior to the latest conclave, surveys were unofficially conducted as to who would become Pope John Paul II’s successor. There are surveys everywhere, for almost everything and everyone, and for every period of time. Anyone can make a survey too. Today, Jesus Himself makes a survey. He asks His disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” The disciples give Him different answers, for just as there are many people so is there many opinions about Him. But Jesus is not keen about how the crowd sees Him as He is ardent to know what His own disciples, His friends, His close circle, think about Him. And so He presses further, “And you, who do you say that I am?” When we ask our close friends about what and who they think we are, we are taking a risk. We are risking receiving from them either a false view that may hurt us very deeply or an honest view that can be flattering or threatening. Flattering because we may be too highly regarded than how we think about our own self or threatening because we may be too highly regarding our self than we should. But there is no other way we can measure how deep are the ties that bind us to our loved ones than somehow taking the risk of knowing how they regard us. Jesus takes that risk today. Jesus wants to know who His disciples say He is because He wants to see how deep their friendship really has become. He has a valid reason not to focus on what the crowds say who He is because He cannot expect them to really know Him in the raw as His own disciples know Him. His disciples have practically been living with Him for almost three years. They should know Him better than the crowd does. When John and Andrew, two of His close disciples (one is nicknamed “The Beloved” while the other is a brother of the Prince of the Apostles, respectively), first followed Jesus, they asked Him, “Rabbi, where do you live?” Jesus answered, “Come and see” (Jn 1:38-39). To inquire from a rabbi where he lives is to ask more than the address of his house. For the Jews, it means requesting to be a student, a disciple, a protégée of the rabbi. “Rabbi, where do you live?” is the same as saying, “Master, may I live with you?” Living with the rabbi is being a disciple of the rabbi. Living with the teacher is learning from the teacher. Living with the master is having the spirit of the master. The relationship between the Prophet Elijah and the Prophet Elisha in the Old Testament is a classic example of this disciple-rabbi relationship. When Jesus told John and Andrew, the day they left John the Baptist and started tailing Him, “Come and see”, Jesus took them not only under His roof but into His heart. Itinerant preacher and teacher that He was, Jesus educated His disciples not inside a classroom but within His heart that, according to the Gospel, “always loved those who were His own in the world.” His heart became their school By loving He educated them. Living with Jesus is being a disciple of Jesus the Rabbi. Living with Jesus is learning from Jesus the Teacher. Living with Jesus is having the Spirit of Jesus the Master. Being His disciples, learning from Him and having a share in His Spirit, the disciples are understandably expected to know Jesus better than the others. For to those whom the Father gives Jesus the Father likewise reveals Him. This is true for all genuine disciples of Jesus anywhere and anytime. From the Gospel Jesus conducts the same survey today. He looks straight to our eyes and asks each one of us, “And you, who do you say that I am?” Having called us and made us His own, having chosen us and made us His disciples, having lived with us and given us His Spirit, He also takes the risk of asking us who He really is for us. He wants to know if we truly get His point after all. He waits for an answer from each of us, individually and communally. Will Simon Peter be multiplied in each of us to give Jesus the right answer? Are we worth the risk? Jesus makes a survey about Himself among us. After we have broken bread, after we have partaken of this Holy Meal, when we have concluded this sacred gathering, as we go home and back to our daily affairs, the result of the survey will inevitably show. Just as every student must be measured by examinations, so are we as disciples of Jesus evaluated by the answer we give in His survey. And the answer we give reveals what kind of disciples we really are. Our way of life betrays the quality of our discipleship. Jesus Himself said during the Last Supper, “By this shall all men know that you are My disciples – by your love for one another” (Jn 13:15). What will the survey show? Perhaps the survey is really about our identity as it is about the identity of Jesus.

THE BEST PREACHER

Saturday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time
Mt 23:1-12

The best preacher is the best witness. The best homily is the preacher’s life. The best pulpit is here and now. Pope Paul VI wrote, “Modern man no longer listens to teachers but to witnesses. And if he listens to teachers it is because they are first witnesses.” When we were baptized, we began to share in the prophetic mission of Christ. We are called to be prophets. To be prophets is to be agents of evangelization. To evangelize is to penetrate the world with the presence of Jesus. That presence must be our presence in the world. By what we preach, by how we live, is our presence the presence of Jesus in the world today? What we preach and how we live are intimately related with each other. The former flows into the latter while the latter flows from the former. We must live by what we preach and what we preach must define the life we lead. The challenge is for us to preserve a positive relationship between our preaching and our living. We cannot expect others to believe what we preach when our lives do not reflect our teaching. We cannot lead others by mere words, no matter how inspiring and correct they are. We lead others by the lives we lead. Shining examples, not eloquent words, announce the Good News of Jesus to the world better and louder. Once a woman came to me. She was very worried over her friend who stopped going to the Catholic Church but started to join a Fundamentalist group. “What must I do to save my friend, Father?” she asked me. “The more essential question,” I told her, “is not what you must do, my friend.” She looked at me intently, but with a rather confused look on her face. “You do not need to save your friend at all. Christ already did that for her,” I continued. “You mean to say, I should do nothing and just let her leave our Church and be a Born Again?” she asked further. “The more essential question, my friend,” I told her, “is not what you must do but what you must be.” “And what must I be, Father?” she asked. “You must be a good Catholic in word and deed,” I replied. Have you preached to someone today?

A HANDICAPPED LOVER

Friday in the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 22:34-40

Highest, tallest, smallest, shortest, biggest, latest, newest, fastest, farthest, dearest, purest, holiest, earliest, soonest, friendliest, cleanest, slowest, keenest, oldest, youngest, longest, widest, greatest, etc. Do you recognize what these words are? Yes, they are, of course, adjectives. But what kind of adjectives are they? Superlatives! They are the highest in rank in the hierarchy of adjectives. A rank lower to them is called “comparatives”.

“Master, which is the greatest commandment of the Law?” asked one of the Pharisees. The Master answered thus, “You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the greatest and the first commandment. The second resembles it: you must love your neighbor as yourself.” Wait a minute; can there be two superlatives of the same adjective? In love, there is. The greatest of a love so great is love of God and love of neighbor. “On these two commandments hang the whole Law, and the Prophets also,” concluded the Master.

It is not enough to love God and be indifferent to our neighbor. Our love for our neighbor cannot be an excuse to love God less. The two go together as a person is not complete with only one ear, one eye, one arm, one hand and one foot. A whole person has a pair of each of these body parts. When a pair is missing, the person is said to be handicapped. Love for God without love for neighbor is a handicapped love. The same is true with love for neighbor without love for God. Just as a handicapped person cannot reach its fullest physical potential so is love not whole if it were love for God that is bereft of love for neighbor or vice versa.

Our love should have ears, eyes, arms, hands and feet for both God and neighbor. Just as we listen to God so should we listen to our neighbor. As we see God, we should not be blind to our neighbor. We embrace God and neighbor together in one crossing of our arms. If our hands work for God, so should they serve our neighbor. The feet that run towards God must also be feet that run towards the neighbor. By these we observe the Law and fulfill the Prophets. Love of God and love of neighbor is the foundation of the Law and the vision of the Prophets.

When we pray, let us reflect on our folded hands. Should we have only one hand, would we not have a clenched fist instead?

NEVER BRIBE GOD

Thursday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

Judges 11:29-39

Jephtah, in the First Reading today, is very much like us. We must learn his lesson.

Jephtah was desperate to win over his enemies, the Ammonites. He courted God’s favor and went as far as making not a simple promise but a vow to God. He vowed that he would offer to God as holocaust the first person to meet him from the door of his house if he would return victorious over the Ammonites. He won the battle and, mindful of his solemn promise, returned home. And who was the first person to meet him from the door of his house? No less than his daughter, his only child. O, oh!

Without the wink of an eye, Jephtah’s joy turned into grief, his gratitude into regret, his glorious gain into a big loss. But because he made a vow to God, Jephtah offered his daughter, his only child, to God as a burnt offering. God granted Jephtah his request; Jephtah fulfilled his vow to God.

But what about Jephtah’s daughter? Poor girl! She did not have anything to do at all with Jephtah’s deal with God, but she became an unknowing victim.

Jephtah’s daughter went to the mountains with her friends to bewail her virginity. She could hardly bear the thought of dying a virgin. Interesting, she grieved not because she was to die but because she was to die a virgin!

My friend, Cyril, once gave me this piece of advice, “Be careful with what you pray for. Do not make promises to God that you do not intend or can keep. Kapag sineryoso mo ang Diyos, seseryosohin ka rin Niya.” We should always be sincere with what we tell God in prayer. But we must also be fully aware of what we promise Him. We must never make false promises or promises we cannot actually keep. Mrs. Essie Cachapero, my teacher in high school used to say, “A promise is a debt.” Jephtah paid his with a price so dearly: her dear daughter.

We do not need to court God with promises we cannot really fulfill. We should not think that God will grant our request because we promise Him something in return. God gives us what we ask of Him simply because He loves us more than we know; promises or no promises on our part. Sometimes making promises to Him appears like bribing Him. Never bribe God. He will freely give.

BIG DEAL, HUH?

Tuesday of the Twentieth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 19:23-30

Have you seen the old movie, “Oh, God!”? It is one of my favorites. The Gospel today reminds me of it.

“Oh, God!” featured the veteran actor, George Burns, who played God. In his eighties, most probably when the film was shot, George a.k.a. God wore thick glasses and a funny little hat. A singer-turned-actor, John Denver, for his part played a supermarket employee. One day God appeared to the supermarket employee and commissioned him to spread the message “Think God!”

As the movie progresses, it becomes evident that getting the people take the message seriously is a very difficult task to accomplish. The supermarket employee almost lost his job for doing so.

He complained to God, saying, “Preaching Your word is costing me my job!” God replied (with the naughty smile of old George Burns), “That’s not a bad trade, is it? Lose your job and save the world.”

When Peter reminds the Lord that he and the others left everything, I cannot help but smile. What is everything for Peter? His fishing boat? His trade turned lousy because he could not catch anything even after a whole night of fishing? Everything? Big deal, huh.

But perhaps, it is indeed a big deal for Peter. Perhaps, it is really all that he has. Perhaps, what he leaves behind truly amounts to everything because only that belongs to him.

Peter and the other Eleven make a good trade: lose their job and save the world. But we know that one of them will not persevere. He is Judas Iscariot whom seems to be the most educated among them but the most attached to material things. He will eventually trade his Master for thirty silver pieces. Oh, how riches can hinder one from entering the Kingdom!

The trade we make each day to do God’s will, is it good or bad?

Big deal, huh?

The Lord Jesus already made the best trade to save us. He stripped Himself of His divinity to share in our nature. Big deal? Yeah, big deal!

DOG-TALK

Twentieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Mt 15:21-28

I make a public confession: I am very afraid of dogs. Even before I was assigned chaplain at the San Lazaro Hospital (popular as the only hospital in the Philippines where anti-rabies vaccine and effective cure for dog bite are available) I was already very terribly afraid of dogs. When I go to visit the sick and the aged in their homes, I never go inside their compounds unless I am assured that there are no dogs or, if there are, that the dogs are securely chained to a post or locked up inside a dog house. It is terrible in the Philippines, dogs roam around freely in the streets! Thus, in the Philippines many die of simple dog bite.

I am terribly afraid of dogs. I run away from them before they run after me. But sometimes, running away from them does no good. They just keep running after me. Thanks be to God, I have never been bitten by a dog.

But Jesus was! Today, a “dog” bites him. It was Canaanite by breed. And a bitch! A Canaanite woman “bites” Jesus and Jesus bleeds. However, instead of Jesus getting rabid from the “bite”, the Canaanite woman gets the antidote for the demonic rabies killing her daughter.

The verses preceding the Gospel today tell us Jesus’ confrontation with the scribes and Pharisees who criticized Him for allowing His disciples to break the tradition of their elders regarding ritual cleanliness. It seems that today, Jesus wanted a break from His nagging critics. He left Gennesaret and withdrew to the region of Tyre and Sidon. If He thought that He could run away from the issue of the “clean and the unclean”, He was bound for a surprise. The issue, like a dog, ran after Him and even overtook Him. For behold, right in front of Him today is a woman, a gentile, and therefore, as far as the Jews are concerned, an unclean person, confronting Him. The issue of the “clean and the unclean” once more stares at Jesus straight to the eye. The Canaanite woman crystallizes the issue. She is the issue in a larger form. She is the issue personified.

But instead of the usual “Jesus-meek-and-mild” we always knew, Jesus seems to be quite arrogant and overbearing today. He projects the image of one who enjoys humiliating others in public. “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel. It is not right to take the food of the children and throw it to the dogs,” Jesus said. What is that again? Jesus calling someone a “dog”? Did we hear Him right? Was it really Him?

I believe that this particular episode in the Gospel is a good example of the claim that the Gospels are faith-testimonies. They are not all necessarily historical. Not being historical does not mean fictional though.

The Gospels are faith-declarations of the early Christian community about Jesus. They are the Good News of their encounter with Jesus. They tell us who the Jesus they came to believe in. They tell us who Jesus is more than what Jesus did. In doing so, the early Christian communities continue to hand down to us the Kingdom that Jesus came to inaugurate in this world and will come to fully establish in heaven. The story about the encounter between the Canaanite woman and Jesus is a perfect example of this.

By including today’s Gospel in the whole proclamation of the Kingdom, the early Christians tell us a lesson they themselves learned and wish to teach us in bold strokes: For the Lord no one is a “dog”. No one deserves to be called and treated like a dog. Jews and Gentiles alike, slaves and freemen, men and women, circumcised and uncircumcised – all of them – they are no dogs, but children of God. Early Christians as they were, they learned this lesson early enough. Acts 15:5-29 gives us an account of the very first council convoked by the Church: the Council of Jerusalem. And the issue settled by this first council of the Church was on circumcision. Some Jewish Christians, coming from their former view that Gentiles were unclean because, among other things, they were uncircumcised, demanded that the Gentile converts submit themselves to circumcision. Some Gentile converts and some Jewish Christians voiced their dissention. The issue was settled in the Council of Jerusalem. The apostles decided not to impose to the Gentile converts the Jewish Law of circumcision because the Lord Himself has spoken thus when the Holy Spirit descended upon the Gentile converts during their baptism.

Who would think, in these days of the solemn and illustrious Second Vatican Council, that the first ecclesial council was occasioned by circumcision? O, how trivial can we be!

But we can be forgetful, not only trivial. Thus, the Gospel today. It is the faith of the Church that Jesus is for all, not only for believers but also for those, as the Second Vatican Council (Lumen Gentium, 16) gives expression today, “who through no fault of their own, have not heard the Gospel…” they, too, can be saved by following the voice of their conscience. This echoes an earlier teaching of St. Paul in 1 Tim 2:3-4, “God wants all men to be saved and come to the knowledge of truth.”

In the Father’s house there are no dogs, only children. Thanks be to Him because I wish to live in His house forever but I am terribly afraid of dogs.

But there is something I forgot to confess: I am afraid of dogs, but only of dogs that are not mine. I used to have 16 dogs of different pedigrees.

This Canaanite woman may be looked down upon by others as a “dog”, but she certainly is Jesus’ too. Her faith in Jesus betrays her breed. Will our faith reveal our breed, too?

WHERE ARE THE CHILDREN?

Saturday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 19:13-15

A number of times I overhear a mother tell her child as I pass by, “Don’t be naughty; Fr. Bob will be get angry at you.” What?!

I am very much saddened by the way some parents or guardians make us, priests, appear like monsters to their children or wards. Many elders often recourse to dropping our names and making our images dreadful when children refuse to obey them. Sometimes it works, other times it does not. But at all times it is totally wrong to do so because priests are supposed to be images of Jesus, not of some monster ready to eat any defiant child alive.

“Let the children come to me,” said Jesus in the Gospel today. He continues to say the same thing to us through our priests. “Do not hinder them,” Jesus ordered His disciples who stood between Him and the children. He still commands us the same today.

So, where are the children?

The blame for their absence, however, falls not only on the elders. We, priests, can be just as guilty as the elders. Perhaps, we have not really become like Jesus to them.

FROM THE HEART, NOT FROM THE LOINS

Friday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 19:3-12

I wonder if there are still eunuchs today. Eunuchs used to be servants of the queen who are literally made incapable of impregnating the female species. Eunuchs, I suppose, even lose their sexual drive. It can be easily understood the reason why those servants were intentionally made eunuchs. If I were born during that period I would not even dream of serving in the queen’s court.

Of course, there were those who were not made eunuchs but were born already incapable of inseminating a woman. They were not serving in the queen’s court but they were born sterile, if not impotent. They were not called eunuchs but they practically suffer the same handicap. There are still men born this way today. I suppose I am not born this way but I do not have a way to find out because I decided to be a “eunuch” already.

I said earlier that I would not even dream of serving in the queen’s court but I did not say I would not decide to be a eunuch. I have decided to serve in the Lord’s court and I embraced the life of a celibate. For all practical purposes, I am a “eunuch” myself. I offered to the Lord everything, including my faculty to beget children in this world through marital union. I do so with a clear appreciation of the beauty and grace of the married life but also with the desire to be totally available to the Lord in the work of His ministry. I chose to be a celibate for the Kingdom.

It is not whether we are celibate or married that determines our greatness in the Kingdom of God. It is the quality of our service, for whether celibate or married, we are all His servants. Celibates and married people are called to holiness of life. Holiness of life is the perfection of charity. Celibates and married people are therefore called to serve with love. The more loving their service is the greater they are in the Lord’s court. That kind of love comes from the heart, not from the loins.

SHE WAS HIS FRIEND

Memorial of St. Clare

Mt 16:24-28

We have a saying, “Tell me who your friends are and I will tell you who you are.” This is a good maxim to live by. Be careful with whom you associate with. Choose your friends well.

Clare was Italian by birth. She was born in 1193. Though coming from a well-to-do family, Clare left everything and lived a life of poverty and penance. She had a deep devotion to the Holy Eucharist and is said to have saved her city from invading barbarians by raising the Blessed Sacrament over them. Thus, her statue clad in a nun’s habit with the Blessed Sacrament. She founded a religious order for women that followed strict monastic rules, particularly those pertaining to penance and poverty. After a holy and austere life, she passed away in 1253.

Clare was an intimate friend of St. Francis of Assisi who followed the Lord Jesus all the way.
Need we say more?

TOMATO SEEDS

Feast of St. Lawrence

Jn 12:24-26

When I was yet a kid, I could not understand why tomato seeds had to be dried before they were planted. Dry seeds seemed dead seeds to me. But when planted, the dried tomato seeds sprouted after a few days and eventually became tomato plants that later on produced more tomatoes, and, of course, even more tomato seeds.

Once I planted fresh tomato seeds in a plant box under a shade. I was worried about drying the seeds because, as I mentioned earlier, dry seeds were dead seeds to me. For a few days the tomato seeds I planted remained untouched and fresh. But a few days later, something happened. The ants came and ate all my fresh tomato seeds!

Fresh tomato seeds remain fresh tomato seeds until ants come and digest them. But dry tomato seeds yield a rich harvest of tomatoes. The more we keep the seeds fresh the more we hinder the harvest. The more we preserve them the more tomatoes we lose. Unless the seed falls to the earth and dies, it remains a seed; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.

We are like tomato seeds. We need to endure trials for us to grow. We need to risk so as to gain. “No pain, no gain,” they say. We must die in order to live. St. Francis tells us, “…and in dying that we are born to eternal life.”

Everybody wants to growth, to gain and to glow with life. But no one wants to die.

If only tomato seeds could speak, perhaps they would express their preference for the sun, for the earth, for death because the only way for them to live and bear fruit is for them to dry under the sun, to fall to the earth, and to die. Thank God, we are not tomato seeds, lest someone might just keep us fresh and plant us under a shade. When that happens our end could possibly be in the digestive tract of some ants.

As we remember St. Lawrence today, let us learn from his love for the poor. When arrested and tortured by the Roman Prefect to surrender the treasures of the Church, St. Lawrence pointed to the poor, saying, “Here are the treasures of the Church. The poor are the true treasures of the Church. Let us also be inspired by his faithful love for Jesus. He was martyred for his faith in the Lord, martyred through roasting. But most of all, let us follow his example of joyful sacrifice. When being roasted to death on a gridiron, St. Lawrence even jested his executioners, saying, “Kindly turn me to the other side. I am already cooked on this side.”

May we live our love for the poor. May our love for Jesus be faithful. May our sacrificial love be joyful at all times. By doing so we are martyrs not by dying but by living, for martyrdom is not only about dying. Martyrdom is about living for Jesus, loving Jesus in the poor, and loving Jesus in good times and bad. Dying for Jesus is but a part of that living. Unless we live like Jesus, we cannot die for Him.

Martyrdom is not only the moment when the axe falls on a Christian’s neck. It is not only the moment when wild beasts feast on a Christian’s flesh. It is not only when a Christian is roasted alive. Martyrdom is living like Jesus.

Tomato seeds do not become martyrs. They become tomato fruits. But we can become like Jesus. We can become martyrs. We can die and bear fruit.

DO YOU HAVE THE TICKET?

Tuesday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Dt 31:1-8/Mt 18:1-5.10.12-14

“Entering” is the verb for today. In the First Reading, Moses declares to the Israelites that Yahweh revealed to him that he will not cross the Jordan; therefore, he will not enter the Promised Land. In the Gospel, Jesus tells us that unless we change and become like little children we will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Who does not want to enter heaven, our Promised Land? No one. Let us therefore enter into a brief reflection on the lessons of today’s readings.

There are several propositions why Moses, who led the Israelites out of Egypt, ironically, was not able to enter the Promised Land. Some say that Moses sinned against Yahweh because he struck the rock twice before water gushed forth from it. They claim that it betrayed Moses lack of faith in Yahweh. Others say that he complained to Yahweh for the burden he bore on account of the Israelites who kept on blaming him for their hunger and thirst in the desert. Whatever the propositions being forwarded, it appears that not entering the Promised Land was a punishment for Moses’ momentary lack of faith in God.

Jesus warns His disciples then and us today that we cannot enter the kingdom of heaven without changing our hearts and acquiring childlike trust in God. Conversion from sin must lead to total faith in God who is a Father waiting to give us His kingdom. It is not true that there is no admission ticket to heaven. There is! Faith. Unless we have complete trust in God we will never enter His heaven.

Moses died without entering the Promised Land. He merely saw it from a distance. There is, of course, a whole world of difference between seeing the Promised Land and actually entering it. Could Moses have died with deep regrets? He endured a lot in freeing the Israelites from slavery in Egypt and leading them through the wilderness but did not enter the Promised Land just because of a momentary lapse in faith.

However, while he did miss the Promised Land, Moses got into heaven though. When Jesus was transfigured on Mount Tabor, Moses’ appearance, talking with Jesus, proved that he who saw the Promised Land entered the kingdom of heaven nonetheless. Entering the kingdom of heaven is infinitely more important anyway.

But how will it be for us? At the twilight of life, will we just see heaven or enter it? Do we have the ticket? Let us not lose it!

God wants us to enter, not simply see.

LET THERE BE LIGHT!

Memorial of St. Dominic

Lk 9:57-62

The years 1200 through 1500 are commonly referred to as the “Middle Ages”. That period in world history is also often times called “The Dark Ages”. It is considered a bleak time because it was an era of wars, diseases, sufferings and immense human poverty. Islam was also the encroaching communism of that day. Sad to say, corruption pervaded even in church circles. Corruption in the Church, in fact, was its height and reformation within her was badly needed. By now, we should be less surprised about the fact that that period in Church history led to Martin Luther’s protest and the birth of Protestantism.

But to refer to the years 1200 through 1500 as “The Dark Ages” is not totally accurate. Yes, there were wars, sufferings, corruption. But there were also moments of grace. Yes, it was dark but not always. The light of grace sparked even brighter because of the darkness.

No other period in the history of the world did humanity produce countless saints than the period called “The Dark Ages”. It was the time of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Bonaventure, St. Camillus de Lellis, St. Bridget, St. Ignatius of Loyola, St. Robert Belarmine, St. Charles Borromeo, St. Francis Xavier, St. Clare, St. Teresa of Avila, St. John of the Cross, and St. Dominic de Guzman, to name just a few. These men and women outstanding in holiness are luminaries that provided the Church the light she needed in the darkest moment of human history.

When it is dark, it is not totally dark for God. He directs us through the darkness that engulfs us. He sends us luminaries. He gives us heroes and heroines. He blesses us with saints. St. Dominic de Guzman (1170-1221), outstanding in learning and holiness, founder of the Order of Preachers, is one of God’s luminaries that first shone during the Dark Ages and continues shining until today.

The statue of St. Dominic shows a dog standing next to him and biting a lighted torch. St. Dominic was the watchdog of the Church against the false teaching of his time. By his learning and exemplary holiness, he defended the teachings of the Church from heresies, particularly the Albengensian heresy. He was a hero of truth and an example of fidelity to the Catholic Church.

Today, more than ever, we need heroes and saints like St. Dominic. There is a very strong tendency today towards relativism that blurs moral truth. We need more honest people who will defend the truth as proclaimed to us by Christ. While there is a growing regard for the Church as outmoded and for her teachings as impractical nowadays, we need more people who are faithful to the Church and her teachings. Will we be those people? Can we be heroes of truth? Can we be shining examples of fidelity to the Church?

No period in the history of the world can be too dark if we dare to be heroes and saints. Let us be that light that refuses to surrender human race to an era of darkness. Let us follow Jesus.

Let there be light!

JESUS OUR PEACE

Nineteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time

1 Kgs 19:9a, 11-13a/Rom9:1-5/Mt 14:22-33

The First Reading today begins by referring to “The Mountain of God”. This is Mount Sinai in Horeb. This was where Moses had first received the Law of God, the Ten Commandments. This was where Moses encountered God, after which his face shone with a light that no human eye could endure. This was where, after forty days of traveling in the desert, the Prophet Elijah came. It was on top of this mountain where the Prophet Elijah hid inside a cave. But why did Elijah hide in a cave on top of God’s mountain?

Around the year 860 B.C., the northern kingdom of Israel was ruled by King Ahab who was in turn ruled by his wife, Queen Jezebel. A henpeck that he was, King Ahab built many pagan temples as ordered by his wife and queen. Apparently overpowering her husband and king, Queen Jezebel opened the palaces to hundreds of false prophets and cronies. But a strange man appeared, wearing a garment of haircloth and a leather loin-cloth. He was jobless, homeless, and wife-less. All he had was a lot of hair that could almost serve as his cloak. He was from Gilead, Elijah the Tishbite. By an account not given to us by the Holy Book, Elijah became fully employed as God’s spokesman to Israel. With fire and fury, like that of a later prophet named, John the Baptist, Elijah confronted the infidelity of the monarchy. He had his biggest break when, in one of Queen Jezebel’s trips, he challenged the queen’s prophets to a public match on the top of another famous mountain, Mount Carmel.

It was a trial of strength, not between Elijah and the queen’s prophets, but between Elijah’s God and the false god, Baal. The public watched the match with great interest, as one after the other, Elijah and the queen’s prophets prayed for fire to consume the sacrifices they prepared. The prophets of the queen invoked their false god all day long until their plea turned into frenzy. But no fire came from heaven. When it was Elijah’s turn, he ordered that the sacrifice be soaked in water. He barely began his prayer when fire appeared and burnt up his offering. The audience applauded Elijah’s God, more than Elijah himself. While the applause was still resounding, Elijah exploited his victory and had all the prophets of Queen Jezebel dragged down the valley. There and then, Elijah slaughtered them all.

Meanwhile, as Queen Jezebel, who was too busy to witness the match between Elijah and her prophets, came back, she realized that Elijah had wiped out all her cronies. She sent Elijah a telegram, saying that he would join them the next day. Thus, Elijah took to his heels and fled to the desert.

While the queen’s hatchet men failed to catch Elijah, today’s liturgy finds him. He is found inside a cave at the mountain of God. But what the royal executioners did not know, the First Reading today does not bother to inform us: Elijah wants to die. He is not only hiding from those who want to take his life but also from life itself. He who valiantly fought for Yahweh against the prophets of Baal now runs like a fleeing coward, hides like a sulking child, and quits like a poor loser. But God meets him right where he is: at the heart of his depression, at the core of his desolation, at the center of his pain, right where it hurts most for him.

On the mountain where Moses encountered God, God meets Elijah today. As it was when God gave Moses the Ten Commandments on the same mountain, there is a strong and heavy wind, an earthquake, and fire. But unlike the experience of Moses, Elijah today does not meet God in any of those elements. When the wind calms down, the tremors cease, and the fire is gone, God comes to Elijah in the sound of a gentle breeze. Elijah now meets God in a still small voice.

We can almost hear that still small voice in the Gospel. Today’s liturgy catches Jesus also on top of a mountain. But He is not hiding, sulking, or running away. While survival drove Elijah into hiding, Jesus goes on top of a mountain to pray. Elijah did not choose to ascend the holy mountain, but Jesus did and made another mountain holy.

After feeding a great multitude with only five loaves of bread and two fish, Jesus climbs a mountain to pray. He did not linger with the people who wanted to make Him king. He did not stay for photo opportunities or autograph signing. Instead, He sent His disciples ahead of him to the other side of the lake while He dismissed the crowds. Then He went up on top of the mountain by Himself. There He lingered with God and had a Father-and-Son talk with Him. There, on top of the mountain, He prayed. There, on top of the mountain, praying, we catch Jesus today.

Always, on top of a mountain, God meets us in a still small voice. Always, on top of our mountains in life, we find Jesus praying with us, praying for us. Always, on top of our mountains, right where we hurt most, right where we fear most, right where we are confused most, God meets us in the still small voice that whispers to us: “Jesus…Jesus…Jesus….”

But while to some people, the mountain applies, to others, the stormy sea best reflects their troubled lives. The mountain was to Elijah, but the sea is to Simon Peter and the other disciples. Yet whether the mountain or the sea, the same holds true: only Jesus can bring us serenity, only Jesus can give us strength, only Jesus can offer us faith, only Jesus can provide us hope, and only Jesus can supply us love.

Jesus is that still small Voice that is God who speaks of peace. Jesus is the very Word spoken by that still small voice on top of the mountain. He who walks on the stormy sea towards frightened disciples is Jesus, too. Jesus Himself is the calmness of the waves and the silence of the wind.

Meet Jesus on top of our mountains, meet Jesus on our stormy seas, and we will meet our Peace. Like St. Paul in the Second Reading today, even when there is great sorrow and constant anguish in our hearts, let us speak of Jesus. Jesus is our Peace…only Jesus, always Jesus.

PERFECT FIGURE

Feast of the Lord’s Transfiguration

MT 17:1-9

Many people are conscious of their figures. Women are commonly regarded to be more conscious of their figures than men, but men can also be just as concerned with their figures as women are. Regardless of gender, people give their figures some thought at some point in their lives. That moment has come for us today. Let us reflect on our figures.

Some people are concerned with their figures because they want to appear sexy and attractive. Others are more properly motivated; they want to stay healthy. All need to take care of their figures to live, if not longer, at least better. We cannot underestimate the value of keeping fit and staying healthy.

Everybody wants to have a perfect figure. But what is a perfect figure? Is it 36-24-34 for women? Is it having well toned muscles and small tummy for men? Does perfect figure mean having a perfect body shape with a perfect height and a perfect face? What is a perfect figure? Who has it? Do we?

If figure is simply what meets the eye, does having a perfect figure mean having a flawless physique? But we have come across people who are in good shape but are not necessarily in good health. Figure must then be more than what meets the eye.

Jesus reminds us today that figure is indeed more than what the eye can see. Figure is the totality of a person. Perfect figure is having a healthy soul and body. Perfect figure means perfect health; and perfect health means perfect life.

Now it seems not one among us has a perfect figure because we all have imperfect lives. Let us trust the Lord; He will perfect our figure.

The transfiguration of the Lord is a revelation of His inner Self in all Its intrinsic glory and beauty. It is a cry that comes from His deepest within that refuses to regard the physical as the ultimate basis of perfection. It is a celebration of His beauty even in the shadow of His seeming lack of it.

The passion and death of Jesus would certainly render His body ugly and revolting. On top of a mountain, Jesus manifested to His closest disciples that the suffering and death He would soon endure could not destroy the beauty and glory He always had. While betrayal, denial, hunger, thirst, loneliness, fear, torture and crucifixion would bring upon Jesus the agony and horror of death, they would not distort His perfect figure: He is the Father’s Beloved Son. Obedience to the Father would disfigure Jesus so that He may configure us to His perfect figure.

“This is my Beloved Son. Listen to Him,” declares the Father. We fix our eyes on Jesus and we see the real meaning of our otherwise seemingly meaningless sufferings. Through Jesus’ words we learn the value of our sufferings even when our sufferings seem to have little, if any, value at all. With Jesus, through Jesus, and in Jesus we are able to transform our crosses into sources of grace, our death into life, our brokenness into perfection.

Thus, while transfiguration is for Jesus, configuration to Jesus is for us. The challenge for us is to follow not only what Jesus said but how Jesus lived. May we become more and more like Jesus.

This then is the perfect figure: a life configured to Christ.

A HOUSE FOR HER IN OUR HEARTS

Dedication of the Basilica of Saint Mary Major in Rome

Rv 21:1-5/Lk 11:27-28

We celebrate today in the liturgy the anniversary of the dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major.

After the declaration of the dogma of the divine motherhood of the Blessed Virgin Mary – that is, Mary is the Mother of God – in the Council of Ephesus in the year 431, Pope Sixtus III dedicated this Basilica in Rome in honor of Mary, the Mother of God. It was called “St. Mary Major” later on. It is considered the oldest church in the West dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary.

Why should we celebrate the dedication of the Basilica of St. Mary Major when it is not even the parish church we belong to?

There are three reasons why we should celebrate the dedication of the Basilica of Saint Mary Major.

First, that basilica is dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Blessed Virgin Mary is very dear to us. By this reason itself, we should be happy to join in celebrating the basilica’s anniversary. To thank God for the gift of this basilica shows how much we love and value the Blessed Mother

Second, while not belonging to the community of the basilica, we recall its dedication with joy because we belong to the one, holy, catholic Church. We are related to each and every Catholic. Our local parish is united to all the parishes and Catholic communities around the world. When we celebrate the dedication of a Catholic church, even if it is not ours, we express our faith in the communion of all the followers of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Third, Filipinos even have a special reason to celebrate the dedication of this basilica because the Basilica of Saint Mary Major also houses the Center for Filipino Migrant Workers in Rome. I had the privilege of visiting this basilica and celebrating Mass there. There I met so many Filipino overseas workers. On Sundays, a Tagalog Mass is celebrated there, too. Is it mere coincidence that the Center for Filipino Migrant Workers in Rome is located within the offices of this basilica or was it the Blessed Mother herself, to whom Filipinos are deeply devoted, who gave a home to Filipinos in her own basilica?

The Basilica of Saint Mary in Rome is called “Basilica di Sancta Maria Maggiore” because it is the mother of all churches dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary. We dedicate our selves to the Blessed Virgin Mary. She is the mother of us all. Today we celebrate her house. Always, we house her in our hearts.

PRAY FOR US

Memorial of St. Jean Marie Vianney, Patron of the Universal Clergy

Mt 9:35-10:1

Today we celebrate the blessed memory of St. John Marie Vianney, Patron Saint of the Universal Clergy.

John Marie Vianney was born near Lyons, France in 1786. He was ordained priest in Grenoble, and was assigned to the parish of Ars, France, where he spent his life in quiet service for forty-two years. He was known for his steadfast care for souls. He would hear confession of countless penitents for almost the whole day. He also had an outstanding spirit of prayer and mortification. His great love for the Eucharist was the source of his strength and holiness. At the age of seventy-six, John Marie Vianney entered the eternal bliss in 1859. Pope Pius XI declared him Patron of the Universal Clergy.

There are three things that St. John Marie Vianney teaches me and my brother priests. First, our love for the Eucharist must be so great. It is the source of our energy, fervor and personal holiness. Second, we must never neglect the Sacrament of Reconciliation. How will the laity love the Sacrament of Reconciliation when we ourselves, ordained ministers of the sacrament, have little love for it? Spending time in the confessional shows our love for this sacrament. How will the laity frequent the Sacrament of Reconciliation when they do not find us available to hear their confession? St. John Marie Vianney did not have to be called from the rectory or the parish office to sit in the confessional. He was always there. He practically spent most of his life in the confessional. Third, while our over-staying in our parish assignments can be bad for both us and our parishioners, there are virtues in staying where we have been assigned until the bishops so desire. It demands a lot of humility, obedience, and love of God to remain in an assignment for forty-years as St. John Marie Vianney did. In the midst of the politicking that also happens within clergy as regards assignments, this aspect of our patron’s long service in the parish of Ars seems to be often overlooked.

Today, I beg you to offer a Mass and a rosary for us, your priests. Offer a Mass for us so that we may be true lovers of Christ. Say a rosary for us so that we may be true sons of Mary. May we be the holy priests that God wants us to be. May we be the good shepherds that you deserve.

Pray for us.

WHAT REALLY MAKES US UNCLEAN

Tuesday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 15:1-2.10-14

One day a lady approached me, complaining about communion by the hand. She said it was not right to receive the Holy Eucharist in the hand because the hand is so dirty. She even went to the extent of judging those who receive communion by the hand as guilty of a grave sin against the Lord. For her, communion by the mouth is the only proper way to receive the Holy Eucharist.

I simply smiled and asked her, “Why is the mouth really cleaner than the hand?”

It is what comes out of the mouth that makes a man unclean. And they are not only germs, viruses, and bacteria. They are lies we tell, the foul language we use, and the gossips we spread. They all come out of our mouths and make us unclean.

Is our mouth, therefore, in any better position than our hands to receive the Lord?

Receiving communion by the hand is an older practice than receiving communion in the mouth. Remember the Last Supper, the first Mass, the first Holy Communion? Jesus and His disciples were having dinner. They were not even on their knees during that first Mass. They were reclining! And when it was time to receive their first Holy Communion, the disciples were not given the Eucharist in their mouths. Scriptures say, Jesus took bread, blest it, and gave it to the disciples. The first Holy Communion was received by the hand, not in the mouth.

It was when abuses against the Holy Eucharist became rampant that communion by the hand was prohibited. Grave disrespect for the Lord in the Holy Eucharist forced Church authorities to allow only communion in the mouth. But today, where proper respect and devotion to the Holy Eucharist can be ensured, the bishops permit communion by the hand.

Next time we judge something to be unclean, let us pause for a long while and think many times over before we make any conclusion. When we reflect on what really makes us unclean, we should not haste in making any judgment on anyone even if they seem to be breaking the traditions we hold. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus because He alone is clean and, therefore, only He may tell us what is not clean.

Jesus tells us, “Listen and understand. What goes into the mouth does not make a man unclean; it is what comes out of the mouth that makes him unclean.” If that lady who came to me complained to the Lord about those she judged to be committing a grave sin for receiving communion by the hand, the Lord would simply ask her: “Tell me, dear, what comes out of your mouth now even as you speak?” Will she confess self-righteousness? Well, her hands may be cleaner than she thought they are.

ROW, ROW, ROW YOUR BOAT

Monday of the Eighteenth Week in Ordinary Time

Mt 14:22-36

When Jesus was not in the boat with the disciples, the sea was heavy and there was a headwind. But when Jesus got into the boat the wind dropped. Is this not a picture of our lives too?

Our life is like a boat that sails from one day to another. The day is heavy and tensions are strong when Jesus is not with us in our boat. But when we let Jesus into our boat, the sailing becomes smooth. The lesson? Always have Jesus in our life. There may still be big waves and the wind may still blow against our boat once in a while, but with Jesus sailing with us our boat will never turn upside-down.

The problem with Simon Peter in the Gospel today was that instead of inviting the Lord into their boat, he dared Jesus to prove that it was indeed He by ordering him to go to Him on the lake. Jesus, of course, had no problem with that. Jesus had nothing to prove. It is indeed Him! But Simon Peter unwittingly placed himself in a situation that then demanded from him a proof of his faith in Jesus. He who wanted to test Jesus was then the one tested. Simon Peter tested the identity of Jesus. But it turned out to be Simon Peter’s test of faith. And he failed. He failed miserably. His failure soaked to the skin!

We do not ask the Lord to make us go to Him. We simply go to Him because we have faith in Him. We do not question the Lord if He wants to sail with us. We beg Him to get into our boat. We do not test the Lord. We do not say, “If it is really You, Lord, make me walk on water.” If we do so we court danger because faith is not a matter of walking on water but a matter of sailing with Jesus.

“Row, row, row your boat gently down the stream…” we sing like children. But with childlike faith we have to conclude, “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, come and sail with me.”