NOT THE BEST

On The 19th Anniversary of My Sacerdotal Ordination

Every priest goes through some kind of a crisis.  Perhaps the absence of crisis in a priest’s life should cause more alarm than the presence of it.  It is in going through a crisis that we see what stuff a priest is made of.  It is by going through a crisis that the priest is stuffed with what he becomes.  Some say that a crisis makes or breaks a person, but that depends on the person really.  For as the German theologian, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, said, “The hand of God is at times the hand of grace and at other times the hand of suffering, but it is always the hand of love.”  God’s hand is always the hand of Abba who lovingly disciplines us and affirms us each day.  Mysteriously, crises in the life of every disciple of Jesus – priest or lay – are God’s tenderly affirming us even as they are His firmly regulating us.  Small and big ones, I had my own share of priestly crises.  Nineteen years is quite a long period not to have even one or two.

More than a decade ago, I had my toughest crisis.  At the peak of my agony, leaving the priesthood was a temptation so easy to fall into.  I had many questions; I questioned many.  I had sleepless nights; my nights were wet with tears.  I almost gave in; but God did not give up on me.  I could have turned my back on my first love, the priesthood, if only to end my pain right away.  But the words of Archbishop Soc to me kept ringing in my heart more than in my ears: “Is that how shallow your love for the priesthood?”  And so, with a few but real good friends – some were elder brothers in the priesthood – I mustered all the courage and prayed for greater generosity to fight the real attraction of quitting.

I realized that while the priesthood understandably demands my faithfulness to God, it is, in fact and always, about God’s fidelity more than mine.  It is not about my conquering all my battles as it is my surrendering my self totally to the Father’s encompassing love.  I am a priest not because I deserve to be one but because God wants it so.  Period.

“Miserando atque eligendo” – this is Pope Francis’ episcopal motto.  “Lowly but chosen” – this is what the motto means.  Every priest knows this about himself and should never forget this truth.  And that is why I am proud of the nineteen years of my priesthood because it is not my achievement at all.  It is God’s accomplishment in me whom He has chosen despite my lowliness in many things.

One evening, at the height of my crisis eleven years ago, I was on my way home when I felt the urge for a coffee drink after gassing up the car.  I was not only alone then; I was severely lonely.  But I was craving not for anyone else’s presence, I realized, but my own.  I needed to find my self again, the “self” that, ironically, I seemed to have lost in what appeared to many as the “trappings” of the priesthood, or the “self” that, in truth, was the one that lost me.  I felt filled up but empty.  I felt fed up but still not wanting to let go.  It was then that I texted a good friend, Msgr. Clem Ignacio, who was also my first parish priest after my ordination.  I was his parochial vicar at the St. Anthony de Padua Parish and assistant director at the St. Anthony School, both in Singalong, Manila.

“Monsi,” I dared texted him, “how was I as your assistant parish priest and vice director in school?”

The reply, that came rather quick, was short, straightforward, and sincere: “Well, Bob, you were not the best, but you were certainly the most loved.”

I was shocked by the response I got.  At first, I was looking blankly at the text on the screen of my mobile phone.  Then I heard my self murmuring, “Grabe naman.  He could have said that I was not the best but, at least, one of the best.”  With a smile now I recall wanting to reply with, “Walang basagan ng trip!”  But back then, I really didn’t know what I should feel even before how I should respond.

I was used to being counted among the best, if not the very cream of the crop – in school, in the seminary, in the parish I grew up serving as an altar boy and a young lector.  But in my first assignment after ordination, my best wasn’t good enough?  I wasn’t even counted one among the many other best.  I was really rather hurt by Msgr. Clem’s honest response.  Why?  Because, back then, I considered being the best was better than being the most loved. But it was truly on that same lonely evening that I found what I was missing: “Well, Bob,” Msgr. Clem said, “you were not the best, but you were certainly the most loved.”  And going through my memory of my first priestly assignment in Singalong, I saw that indeed I may not be the best but I was certainly the most loved.  Without him knowing it, Msgr. Clem taught me the very important lesson that it is not the best that counts most but it is love that counts best.  Then, I started to rediscover my self – my beloved self.

When it is time for me to go home to the Father’s house, and if you were to write me an epitaph, please let it be this: “Here lies a priest who was not the best, but was certainly the most loved.”

Being regarded as the best may be a reward for a work well done.  But being the most loved is a gift for a work not so well done, even before a work is done at all.  The best earns his title.  The most loved is blest beyond his expectation, beyond what he deserves.  And that is grace! Indeed, the best knows the psalm, but the most loved knows the Shepherd.

Thank you very, very, very, very much for loving me even when I am not at my best, even when I am not the best at all.  It is God’s mercy and your love, not my own efforts – no matter how sincere they are – that ultimately make me the “best”.  Maraming, maraming, maraming salamat po.

Please pray for me and for all priests that we may never forget how much we are loved, first by God, then by you – our families, our friends, our flock, our co-workers in the Lord’s vineyard.  Aware of how lavishly we are loved, may we never get tired loving you, never give up loving you, but even be ready to die for love of God and you.

I found this prayer and made it my own forever:

I beg to fall in love with Thee, my Lord

With every breath of life I take

I beg to fall in love with Thee, my Lord

Its every beat, I to Thee forsake

For even if my thoughts fall short of knowing Thee

And even if my will runs terrified

Thy passion thins the darkness of my soul

Sheds it light, breathes it life, stills the murmur of the night

For even if my heart falls short of loving Thee

And even if my spirit hides away

Thy love for me surpasses all my fear

All I do, all I am, all that I can ever be

Amen