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.