LAMENTATION

30th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mk 10:46-52

When we feel that a friend bears something heavy inside, our immediate and common question to him is “What’s bothering you?” Through this question, he is given the opportunity to express, if there is any, the load he carries within. But there are people whose suffering is such that they cannot speak at all anymore. We see people whose families were massacred, whose children were brutally murdered, whose houses were burnt to ashes, whose belongings were wiped away by flood, whose sufferings can really cause anyone lose his sanity. Down on the floor, with heads buried in their hands, weeping, they are prisoners of their own experience of a painful loss. Their suffering is such that they become numb and mute. Before this tremendous suffering, they feel helpless; anything they say seems to amount to nothing.

The first step to conquer this kind of suffering is to find words that will lead the one suffering out of his silence, words for his pain, fear, and loss. One of the great teachings of the Holy Bible is this: sufferings should be expressed through lamentations. Sufferings should not be endured in silence. Remaining in silence is remaining in hopelessness, due to the belief that change is impossible.

Because of this, it is not surprising that in the whole history of the People of God, there are many prayers of lamentation. The Holy Bible even has the Book of Lamentations. Lamentations are cries of the heart, shouts of suffering, groans of pain, screams for help. Though they come from painful experiences, lamentations express the sweet hope for changing the present, that God listens: “Take pity on me, O Lord, I have no strength…I am exhausted with my groanings; every night, my pillow is drenched with tears; in the morning, I bedew my bed with weeping. My eyes waste away with grief; I have grown old surrounded by my enemies” (Ps 6).

Lamentations are not only expressions of suffering; they also communicate the hope that changing the present is possible toward a brighter and better tomorrow. Thus, one who laments is not really hopeless; on the contrary, he refuses to be imprisoned in hopelessness that is why he expresses his desire for change. A prayer of lamentation bridges the gap between silent suffering and unwavering hope. The gospel today vividly paints that picture for us.

While He and His disciples, in the midst of a great number of pilgrims to the Holy City, were leaving Jericho for Jerusalem, a blind beggar heard that Jesus was passing by. The blind beggar – Bartimaeus by name – shouted his prayer of lamentation: “Son of David, have pity on me!” Those who were following Jesus did not like this one-man-uproar; thus, they ordered the blind beggar to keep quiet. Those who wanted Bartimaeus silent represent the belief that they who suffer should be left in the silence of their sufferings. This belief, sadly still prevalent today, teaches that the right religious response to suffering is silence. Be quiet; suffer in silence. Do not cry, do not shout. Complains are not allowed; lamentations are banned. Be quiet!

Unless permitted to communicate his suffering, unless allowed to express his lamentation, Bartimaeus – the blind beggar – would have remained living in his world of darkness. But he knew that if there was any good change to happen in him, he must tell Jesus about his loss. Thus, he shouted his lamentation not once but twice: “Jesus, Son of David, have pity on me!” Jesus halted and ordered His disciples to minister to the blind beggar: “Bring him here,” Jesus said. By what seemed to be a sudden shift in wind direction, those who reprimanded Bartimaeus for shouting his lamentation swiftly went to his aid: “Take courage,” they said to him, “Stand up; He is calling you.” And when he was right in front of Jesus, Jesus asked him the question of all questions: “What do you want Me to do for you?” Bartimaeus found the word for his loss: “Lord, I want to see.” Jesus healed Bartimaeus and complimented him for his faith that saved him. Saved by faith, Bartimaeus, according to the gospel today, used his new sight in following Jesus along the way.

The healing in the gospel today was the fruit of a prayer of lamentation. That prayer expresses the tremendous suffering and faith of Bartimaeus; he trusted that God cares for him. For what use is it to shout if you believe that no one pays attention to you anyway? Ignoring the advice of those who wanted him quiet, Bartimaeus focused himself on Jesus. And Jesus blest the kind of faith that Bartimaeus had.

If we grew up believing that the only and right religious response to suffering is silent endurance, a prayer of lamentation is indeed subversive for us. But the absence of this kind of prayer is the absence of words of our sufferings, an absence of the kind of faith that desires for an honest encounter and dialogue with God. Even Jesus, when He finally hit the end of the road, had His prayers of lamentation. In the garden of Gethsemane, He found the word for his own suffering, loss, and fear: “Father,” said Jesus, “if it is possible, take this cup away from Me….” And in Calvary, while hanging on the cross and between life and death, He shouted: “My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?” Yet the Father did not forsake Him indeed, for on the third day, He gloriously raised Jesus from the dead. The prayer of lamentation pierces the heart of God.

THE FAVOR

29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mk 10:35-45

Favors are not bad. But not all favors are good either. Thus, not all favors are to be granted. Here is an example.

James and John, Zebedee’s sons, approached Jesus. They wanted a favor from Him. Their eyes were fixed on the seats at Jesus’ left and right in His kingdom. “Allow us to sit one at your right hand and the other at your left in Your glory,” they said. The favor they want from Jesus was favoritism. Such a favor Jesus never favors.

Do you remember that the disciples already argued about who, among them, was the greatest? No one won in that argument. Instead, Jesus reprimanded them and challenged them with a child. Such was the power struggle in this small community of Jesus that the brothers, James and John, made their request to ensure the highest place for each of them. For the time being, it was not important which of them would sit on the right and which of them would sit on the left of Jesus. But, we may well expect that problem would come sooner than soon. And, worse, the fight would be brother against brother. Nonetheless, first things first: Get those two seats before anyone gets them first!

Jesus’ answer to their indecent proposal was simple: “You do not know what you are asking.” Did James and John forget what Jesus said earlier that He would be rejected, arrested, tortured, crucified, and would die before He would rise after three days? They did not mention any of those when they made their daring request. “…in Your glory” – that adverbial phrase was rather very clearly put across by the two.

However, Jesus, running the risk of sounding like a broken record, kept on saying that His kingdom is not about who wears the crown but about who carries the cross. Thus, He asked these two power-brokers: “Can you drink the cup that I must drink, or be baptized with the baptism with which I must be baptized?” When James and John replied “We can!” they sounded foolishly bragging. Hence, Jesus doused their burning ambition with cold water: He told them straight that they, indeed, would share in His sufferings; but, sorry, the seating arrangement in the kingdom of heaven was not Jesus’ concern. His message is crystal-clear: there is no short-cut to God’s favor.

When the ten heard this, they felt indignant with James and John. Who would not? The brothers almost outwitted them! All of them had their eyes on those two seats – one on the left and the other on the right of the Master.

Before any further trouble ensued, Jesus stood between them all. He placed Himself in their midst as the icon par excellence of the kind of greatness that God favors. For His disciples, the model of authority in the community cannot be the same as that of the pagans. Leadership is not lordship. Authority is not synonymous with lording over others. Authority and greatness are not and should not be flaunted. It is wrong to enthrone one’s self. Jesus’ command to His disciples then and now is clear: “This should not be so among you.” For such is not His gospel. For one who ran away when He felt that the people He fed wanted to take Him and make Him their king, Jesus strongly suspects people who drool over power or go crazy with their self-importance.

The greatest of all is the servant of all – for Jesus, this is the image of true greatness and authority. The same should be for His followers. And if, indeed, the ultimate joy of any disciple is to become like his master, any disciple of Jesus should joyfully embrace being a servant of all, for that is what Jesus the Master is. Therefore, if there is any primacy in the community of the Lord’s disciples, it is the primacy of service. And Jesus Himself is the best commentary on this primacy: He came to serve, not to be served, and to give His life for the many. James, John, and the other ten of the Twelve Apostles gradually understood and learned to live this out. As disciples of Jesus, we, too, should understand this and live accordingly.

For us, Filipinos, the common and immediate view on seats is different. For us, the one who is seated is the boss, the special, the one who should be served and not the one who serves. Perhaps, we have our long, colonial history to blame. For almost four centuries, we were colonized by the Spaniards, then the Americans, then the Japanese, then the Americans again. In between these giant nations, we also had short colonial periods under the Dutch and the Britons. The truth is, even until today, there are many of us who believe that we not yet fully and truly free. We remain dictated upon by foreign nations in state-policies. We are not yet free either from foreign domination or, more unfortunately, from the domination of our fellow Filipinos who exploit and manipulate us – and easily get away with it – simply because they have material wealth and political power. In the long period of our servitude under colonial regimes, to sit down was never for our ancestors. Our forefathers were not permitted to sit down in the presence of the colonizers. They were either up, attending to the wishes of the foreigners, or down on the floor, like footstools for the colonizers. Thus, when finally, we could sit down properly and with dignity like any human being, the meaning we learned to attach to seats was very much different from what the gospel today proposes: he who is seated is powerful, privileged, honored, has the right to give orders, and is in control.

To be seated is a privilege and a responsibility. The one who sits is given the privilege to account for the good of all. The privilege of sitting down is the privilege of serving others through the power and authority he has been entrusted by God and the people. Behold the chair – a token of an office, a sign of responsibility, reminder for the one seated that whatever power and greatness he has is, in the first place, a favor given him rather than a favor he gained. He occupies the chair, the throne, the cathedra, because serving others occupies his heart.

In the cathedral, the bishop’s throne is a sign of his being the chief shepherd of the diocese. In the parish church, the parish priest is enthroned by the bishop when he is installed as pastor – a token of the responsibility and privilege entrusted to him by the bishop to shepherd, in his name, the local Christian community. In the Mass, the presider’s chair tells the congregation the role of the priest who sits on it: to preside; and being the president of the celebration is the definite form of his service within the liturgy. In Malacañan Palace, there is a chair – or perhaps, there are chairs – on which only the President of the Republic of the Philippines may sit – a sign of the president’s high office that justifies the people’s high expectation that the president would deliver the highest service in the land. In the Senate, do you notice that even if it is not exactly the Senate President who sits on the chair of the Senate President, those who deliver speeches address the one who sits on that chair as “Mr. President” nonetheless? The same is true in the Lower House. Clearly, the office is in the chair, and that office is entrusted to the one who is seated. That office is the responsibility and accountability to serve.

I do not know if this story actually happened, but it does have a point to make now. When I was in Valencia, Bukidnon, for my rural exposure in 1988, I heard a story about our present Archbishop, His Eminence Gaudencio B. Cardinal Rosales, who was then Bishop of the Diocese of Malaybalay, Bukidnon. Cebuano is Bukidnon’s language while Cardinal Rosales is a full-blooded Batangueño; he, nonetheless, really did his best to learn Cebuano. According to the story, in his homily, Cardinal Rosales once got his Cebuano and Tagalog mixed-up. “Ani-a ako” – “Here I am”, that was what the Cardinal wanted to say. Then, the Cardinal paused for a while, making an attempt to remember the Cebuano translation for “to serve” which in Tagalog is “maglingkod”. When he continued, the Cardinal said, “Ani-a ako aron maglingkod kaninyo.” For a brief moment there was silence, then the cathedral was filled with laughter, for “maglingkod” in Cebuano means “to sit”. As it seemed to the Cebuano-speaking congregation, the Cardinal said, “Here I am to sit on you.”

But come to think of it, in the light of the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ, the Cebuano language tells a lot! He who is seated should serve. Being seated means being a servant. Ani-a ako aron maglingkod kaninyo. Here I am to serve you. That is why I am seated today as I preach to you, for I am your servant.

Is there anyone here who wants to take this seat? Sorry, but this is not mine to give.

A PAUPER INDEED

28th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mk 10:17-30

We have heard it countless times over: “Look at him. He already has everything! What else does he need?” Well, here is he is! Kneeling before Jesus, he is apparently at the crossroad of life. Indeed, he already has everything. Besides all his wealth, he still has three special possessions. First, he possesses good breeding. He knelt at the feet of Jesus and addressed Him with exquisite politeness. “Good Teacher,” he greeted Jesus who seemed to be uncomfortable with the formalities. Second, he possesses good character. From childhood, no commandment has he intentionally broken. And third, he possesses religious conviction. For him, fulfilling the commandments of God is not enough. He desires for the surest way to eternal life.

No wonder, Jesus looks at this man with love. For someone who searches for collaborators in a very important mission, this rich, young man is a first class among all possible applicants. Thus, Jesus gives him the challenge: “There is one thing more you must do. Go, sell everything that you have, and give the money to the poor.” The demand that Jesus makes on His possible disciples is simply difficult. To sell your properties is already difficult, what more if you must give the proceeds of the sale to those who are not related to you at all. The poor. It can be easier if, perhaps, you may give them to your relatives or friends. But, no, the poor, among whom many are anonymous faces to you, should be the ones to benefit from your hard-earned wealth. Only through this, Jesus says, can you have treasures in heaven. For disciples of Jesus, heavenly treasure is what they should invest in. This is their new security.

This new security, however, is not enough for that rich, young man. He does not have everything after all. Just as he falls on his knees before Jesus, now the rich, young man’s face falls as he walks away from Jesus. He says nothing as He goes. He can say nothing. And nothing is heard about him again. He remains nameless up until today. With all his wealth, does he even have a name?

This sad turning away of this rich, young man from Jesus’ challenging invitation is one of the moving scenes in the gospel. The possessions he thinks he possesses actually possess him instead. He loves his treasures so much to love Jesus as his only Treasure. Thus, when he leaves, Jesus turns to His disciples and says that it is indeed very hard for the rich to enter into the kingdom of heaven.

Please, understand well. Jesus does not say that heaven is for the poor only. He does not say that the rich cannot enter the kingdom of God. What He says is that it is difficult for the rich to enter heaven. It is not a sin to be wealthy, unless through immoral and illegal means. However, the rich should recognize the fact that while there is so much good that riches can do, riches can also hinder salvation. Use wealth; do not be used by wealth. And, equally important, never get used to wealth.

The radical demand of Jesus astonishes the disciples. According to traditional Jewish morality, riches are a sure signs of God’s favor. But Jesus does not water down His challenge: it is difficult for anyone to enter the kingdom of God, but it is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven. The image is so vivid: the analogy is unimaginable. If that is the case then, who, indeed, can be saved? No one. No one can save himself. Salvation is a gift that God alone can give. For nothing is impossible for God.

The story of today’s gospel is a challenge to all of us. The world we live in follows certain logic: the wealthier you, the more successful you are; the more hard-up you are in life, the more a failure you are. The logic is depressing: the rich becomes richer, while the poor, poorer. In a dog-eat-dog world, it is therefore not difficult to understand why many eventually compromise their values to ensure for themselves power, profit, and possessions. However, what we worship reveals who we really are.

The story of today’s gospel should make an impact on each of us. It must make us pause and reflect because the lessons it teaches us guide us how we must live not only the present in view of eternity. Look at the man in the mirror and see our selves in the light of the values of Jesus. If our identity depends on what we have, what becomes of us when we do not have anymore? Are we afraid to loose everything because we tend to cling tenaciously to almost anything? Like the rich, young man in the gospel today, the wealth we should possess can possess us instead. When that happens, we are no longer free to accept the invitation of Jesus. Attachment to material things steals from us our capacity to choose freely. Jesus hates that.

What Jesus wants is for us to enjoy our freedom responsibly so that who we are does not depend on what we have. The disciple of Jesus is recognized by his or her relationship with Him and with the rest of humanity. Detachment from any form of wealth frees him or her to pay attention to his or her neighbors, and in that way, according to Jesus, His disciple gains a wealth of brothers and sisters, relatives, and friends, fathers and mothers, and lands. The rich, young man leaves Jesus and goes back to his wealth; he misses the blessing not only of a new life but also of the wealth of a family whose bond is defined not by blood or by law but by filial obedience to God.

Come to think of it, the prince is a pauper after all.

SUPER TYPHOON

27 Sunday in Ordinary Time
Mk 10:2-16

At the height of a series of super typhoons, the gospel today makes us face a burning issue: divorce. How appropriate! For, indeed, divorce hits a family as devastating as, if not more devastating than, a super typhoon does. When divorce strikes, the tragedy is worse than a thousand super typhoons: not only houses but households are wrecked. The casualties are not only persons but the personhood of every person belonging to a broken family. As we pray that for safety in the midst of any typhoon so should we pray for security against the menace of divorce. As we should always be prepared for any calamity so do we need to strengthen our families in facing the perennial threat of brokenness.

While we recently witnessed how perilous creation can be as strong typhoons struck us one after the other, the first reading today reminds us about how creation started according to a religious myth. All great religions have their sacred creation stories. For us, Christians, and for our Jewish brethren, we have two in the book of Genesis, and our first reading today gives us one of those. The first reading today zeroes in on the creation of humanity. God fashioned man from the dust of the earth, and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life. Thereupon, the first of our race came to life. The breath of God is the life of humanity. Eden was the first address of humanity, a beautiful garden given by God to be lived in and governed.

When God created man, what He had in mind and heart was not a single individual given the name “Adam”. The truth is, “Adam” is not really a proper name of a person. “Adam” is from the Hebrew word ‘adamah, meaning “from the earth”. Thus, it is more correct to understand and say that “Adam” does not tell us what the name of the first man was but how the first man was created: from the dust of the earth.

What God had in mind and heart when He created the first man was humanity. The first man, called “Adam”, embodies the entire humanity. He is the Man. Not an animal, he found no suitable mate among the animals. He is human. He is the proto-type of the entire humanity.

God gave man a particular mate. He made him fall into a very deep sleep, so deep that man did not sense at all that God already took one of his ribs. After enclosing the rib with flesh, God created a new person. The first one was classified as male while this second as female. Different though they were, they were one, since the second came from the first. Although their genders were different, the two were one. “At last, this is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh. Woman should she be called, “ said the man. Isha – this is the Hebrew word for “woman”, while man is ish. Isha came from ish. Later on, isha was called Eve which, in Hebrew, eva, literally means “mother of all the living.”

The writer of today’s first reading from the book of Genesis concluded with an explanation: “Because of this a man leaves his father and mother and clings to his wife, and they are one body.” In marriage, the two become one body. Marriage alone captures the original completion of the entire man in one body.

This original vision of uniting and completing was what Jesus referred to in the gospel today. Some Pharisees approached Jesus with a question: “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife?” Jesus responded with a question too: “What did Moses command you?” And the Pharisees answered in the light of Deuteronomy 24:1-4: The Law permits a man to leave his wife provided that he issues a writ of divorce. Such a writ also gives the woman the freedom to marry another man. While the Law permits divorce, it is, however, not clear when divorce really becomes legal. As far as acceptable basis for divorce is concerned, there are two schools of thought. One is the strict school of Shammai that accepts adultery only as the acceptable ground for divorce. Another is the too lenient school of Hellil that accepts almost anything as acceptable basis for divorce, even as trivial a thing as the wife serving the husband cold dinner or staining his tunic. That is why divorce is rampant and marriage provides no security, most especially, to women in Jewish society. Only men can divorce their wives. A wife may sue her husband in court to force him to leave her but, in the end, only the man decides to divorce her or not. Such a Law is very clearly unjust, is it not? And that is what Jesus wanted to change.

In his response to the Pharisees, Jesus did not ridicule the Law of Moses; rather, He explained that the Mosaic Law was a compromise with or an accommodation for human sinfulness. And just a person’s body cannot be divided without the same person being killed, so is the permanence of matrimonial bond. What God unites and makes one in marriage, man cannot and should not separate through divorce. The bond of marriage is a lifetime covenant. As valuable as this point, Jesus’ wanted to protect women from becoming a disposable possession of men. Hence, the whole issue is not only about religion but very much about justice, too. It is not only about marriage but also about human dignity.

That is how the Lord is. He is an Ally of the oppressed and the marginalized in society. The gospel today emphasizes this truth even more as it includes an encounter between Jesus and one of the marginalized sectors in Jewish society, the children. When the disciples sent away those who brought children to have Jesus touch them, Jesus rebuked them and, instead, embraced the children, touched them, blessed them, and presented them as the image of those who belong to God’s kingdom.

In a society weak in valuing marriage and family life, where changing spouses looks like changing clothes only and the impediments to divorce can easily be circumvented, children, indeed, are the first and worst victims. They are the ones swept away and drowned by the flood caused by the typhoon of their parents’ divorce. And if asked who among them really want their children to suffer such a trauma, whose effect a child may have to bear for the rest of its life, would any divorcee sound convincing in saying “Not I”?

Jesus encourages each of us to go back to the beginning of everything so that we may not forget the original plan of God. This is not a punishment but an invitation to live with loyalty to God’s will and purpose. True, there are mistakes, infidelities, and hurts that can possibly be part of any marriage. Husband and wife may be victims and victimizers themselves. Perhaps, the cold silence between spouses may last for years and their marriage simply collapses. But that cannot be enough reason to turn away from God’s original plan when He created and made one the first ish and isha, the ‘adamah and the eva, man and woman. The Church strives to provide for human weakness and, though sometimes the process proves to be too painstakingly slow, she works to resolve the crisis without violating the original plan of God. Because we believe that marriage is a sacrament, a holy, visible, and efficacious sign of divine grace, we reject any misleading move that comes from a distorted view on marriage as something experimental. The sacrament of matrimony is the marriage between three, not two, individuals: the man, the woman, and Christ Jesus who, in the midst of violent and super typhoons that threaten family-life, keeps on reminding and helping husband and wife to cling to God alone who, in the first place, created and made them one.