IN PRAYER

Second Sunday of Lent

Lk 9:28b-36 (Gn 15:5-12, 17-18 / Ps 27 / Phil 3:17-4:1)

Lent always begins on Ash Wednesday.  The Gospel every Ash Wednesday does not change no matter what year we are in.  It is always taken from Mt 6:1-6, 16-18 where Jesus, among other things, admonishes us to pray better rather than more.  Certainly, such a lesson from the Lord we need very much because we often have the tendency to double our prayers when Lent comes.  Praying better, not praying more, is what Lent should always be.

While the Gospel for Ash Wednesday is always taken from Matthew regardless of what year it is, the evangelist for the Sunday after Ash Wednesday – which is the First Sunday of Lent – changes.  In the liturgical cycle, the Gospel for the First Sunday of Lent during Year A is from Matthew, during Year B is from Mark, and during Year C – which is this year – is from Luke.  Coming from different evangelists, the Gospels for each of those years, however, are generally and essentially the same.  They are all about the temptation of Jesus by the devil.  And in all three versions, the devil tempted Jesus while Jesus was in the wilderness where He fasted for forty days and forty nights.  Jesus was practically on a spiritual retreat, a heightened prayerful milieu, when He was tempted just before He began His public ministry.

These three Gospels – Matthew, Mark, and Luke – are called the “Synoptics”.  A Greek prefix, syn means “together” or “with” while optikos, another Greek word, is “seen”.  Thus, synoptikos literally means “seen together”.  The Gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke are synoptikos because they look at Jesus, as it were, from the same point of view.  In their story of Jesus, the Synoptic Gospels have many similarities.  And the Transfiguration narrative, our Gospel for today, the Second Sunday of Lent, is one example of those similarities, except for one detail.

In the Mark’s version of the Lord’s Transfiguration, Mk 9:2-13, we read, “…Jesus took Peter, James and John with Him and led them up a high mountain, where they were all alone.  There He was transfigured before them.”  In Mt 17:1-13, we have almost a verbatim repetition: “…Jesus took Peter, James, and John, and led them to a high mountain by themselves.  There He was transfigured before them.”  But Luke, as we read in the Gospel (Cf. Lk 9:28-36) for this Mass, has this: “Jesus took Peter, John, and James and went up the mountain to pray.  While He was praying His face changed in appearance and His clothing became dazzling white.”

Though essentially the same with Mark’s and Matthew’s accounts, Luke introduces a detail we quite often overlook in the Transfiguration narrative: prayer.  This, indeed, is a little feature in the story of the Lord’s Transfiguration but it spells a lot.  Moreover, I believe that whoever wrote the Gospel of Luke intentionally added this detail in the narrative.  Now we know why Jesus took Peter, James, and John, and led them up a high mountain.  Certainly, the Lord did so not to show off to His three closest friends, almost blinding them with the brightness of His glory.  Luke is very clear with Jesus’ intention in taking Peter, James, and John to a high mountain: He wanted to pray.  Jesus intended to pray either with them together or perhaps alone but in their company.  Prayer was Jesus’ purpose, not transfiguration.  But, by the Father’s design, it was “while He was praying” that Jesus was transfigured before the three disciples.

It is highly significant to note that, according to the Gospel of Luke, in the key moments of His life, Jesus is found praying.  In Lk 3:21-22, after He was baptized, Jesus is praying when the heavens open, the Holy Spirit descends on Him in the form of a dove, and the Father says, “You are my Son whom I love; with You I am well pleased.”  At the transfiguration, the Father speaks again, affirming that Jesus is indeed His Son, but now with a command given: “Listen to Him.”  In Lk 4:1-12, as I mentioned earlier in this reflection, Jesus is practically in a heightened experience of prayer when the devil tempts Him.  In Lk 22:39-42, Jesus is in intense prayer, too, when an angel from heaven came to Him in the garden of Gethsemane to strengthen Him as He agonizes over His impending death.  And, in the 24th chapter of Luke, Jesus, hanging on the cross, is actually praying as He utters His first and final words: “Father, forgive them for they know not what they are doing” (v. 34) and “Father, into Thy hands I commit My Spirit” (v. 46).  Truly, the key moments in the life of Jesus are not only moments in prayer but are prayerful moments, too.  And it is in these moments of deep communion with God that Jesus receives strength and much needed consolation from God who affirms Him as His Son, His Beloved, His Chosen One, on whom His favor rests.  As His true identity is made clear to Jesus so is God’s identity clearly manifested to Him: God is His Father who does not forsake Him but glorifies Him instead even in the midst of suffering and death.

This apparently is God’s way.  And He does it best!  As we read in the first reading today from the book of Genesis, it is in His colloquy with Abram that God reveals to him who He is and who Abram and his descendants are in relation to Him: “I am the Lord who brought you from Ur of the Chaldeans to give you this land as a possession.”  As the story of Abraham progresses unto the Exodus event, God enters into a covenant with Israel: “I will be your God and you will be my people” (Cf. Ex 6:7).  His identity and Israel’s identity are both revealed within the context of a covenant that is ritually sealed by prayer and sacrificial offering.

The Apostle Paul in the second reading today, for his part, tells us what happens when we, the New Israel, forget who we are in relation to God and who God should be for us: “Their God is their stomach; their glory is in their ‘shame’.  Their minds are occupied with earthly things” (Phil 3:19).  We know that the Apostle speaks the truth, for we not only see this happen to others but experience it ourselves.

Lent is not only about Jesus.  Lent is not for Jesus alone.  Lent is about you and me, too.  Lent is Jesus taking us and leading us up a high mountain.  We must make sure that our purpose in going with Jesus up that mountain is the same as His: to pray.  And in our praying with Jesus, let us search ourselves for honest answers to these questions: In the key moments of my life where am I to be found?  Does my prayer make clear to me my identity and mission?  Am I really open to the God who reveals Himself to me in prayer?

But as Jesus leads us up a high mountain, so does He take us down from it.  Please make sure, too, that you are not left behind on top of that mountain.  For transfiguration is not our goal, but resurrection.  And that does not happen there, but beyond another mountain called “Calvary”.

INTO OUR WILDERNESS WITH JESUS

1^st Sunday of Lent

Lk 4:1-13 (Dt 26:4-10 / Ps 91 / Rom 10:8-13)

A great story of freedom is written at the very heart of the Old Testament.  More so in the heart of every Jew!  Through the ages, the Jews sung the epic of their liberation from Egypt and special consecration to God as His Chosen People.  Famine brought their ancestors to Egypt where they grew in number.  But the Egyptians, fearing that they might be overpowered, oppressed the migrant Jews by using them as cheap labor and keeping their population low by the systematic killing of their newborn male babies.  But, through signs and wonders, God intervened on behalf of the Jews and, through Moses, freed them from slavery in Egypt.  The book of Exodus celebrates the momentous event of their liberation from oppression and the first steps they took in their journey to the Promised Land.  The first reading today, taken from the book of Deuteronomy, tells us how the Jews kept that good memory alive in their minds and hearts.

But almost right after they left Egypt, the Jews had to face the stark reality that freedom did not mean the absence of trials and sufferings.  Behind them was Egypt but in front of them was the wilderness.  Many of them complained because they did not think much of an escape that led them into a wilderness.  Aha, so, their new freedom meant new pain after all!  Not a few preferred the security that went with slavery in Egypt to the pain that went with freedom.  And some of them were even vocal about it!  The price of freedom was wilderness.

They escaped Egypt in one night but they did not reach the Promised Land overnight.  For forty years, the Jews sojourned in the wilderness.  There, in the wilderness, they were tested.  Many of them did not pass the test.  Many times they were hungry and thirsty.  And still many doubted if God cared at all for them.  We know their experience, don’t we?  For our hearts, too, can be divided about God when we want to trust Him but our empty stomachs make us doubt.  For the Jews wandering in the wilderness, the Promised Land was miles away but their hunger was here and now.  There was a reason for their hunger, they were told in Deut 6:4, “…to teach you that man does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God.”   But that reason, though indeed true, feed the mind and not the stomach; thus, even if the Jews ever understood their hunger in the wilderness, their stomachs did not stop grumbling.  Perhaps they came to know but they remained starving nonetheless.  And it was this hour of their testing that the People of God were commanded to commit their whole hearts to Him.

Israel’s testing in the wilderness foreshadowed Jesus’ testing in the desert.  Jesus is the new Israel.  The Gospel for today tells us that, filled with and led by the Holy Spirit, after His baptism by John at the Jordan, Jesus spent forty days in the desert where He ate nothing and, therefore, was very hungry.  Jesus was hungry and was tested.  With an empty stomach He, like the Israelites in the wilderness, was tested to see if He doubts God, His Father, or wholeheartedly commits Himself to Him.  Can Jesus be hungry and still trust God?  Will Jesus still follow God with His whole heart even as He feels the emptiness inside Him?  The answer is yes.

The Gospel narrates to us that Jesus persevered in His commitment to God despite His hunger and before any trial.  Leading us by His own example, Jesus, therefore, encourages us: “…do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it.   For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them.   But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well” (Lk 12:29-31).  Jesus teaches us where to really place our trust: “Do not be afraid, little flock,” He says in Lk 12:32-33, “for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom.  Sell your possessions and give to the poor.  Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys.”  And when we are already confused by the many attractions of this passing world and weary by the seemingly endless trials so much so that we know not where are heart is, Jesus reminds us exactly where to find it: “…where your treasure is,” He tells us, “there your heart will also be” (Lk 12:34).

Jesus can speak to us – not only eloquently but, most importantly, credibly, too – about our own trials and temptations in life not because He read them in books or watched documentaries on them at Discovery or National Geographic channels, not even because He is God Himself, rather because, as Heb 4:15 declares, He has been tempted in every way, just as we are, but did not sin.

Presented to Him in three forms, according to the Gospel today, Jesus was tempted to believe that He could serve God without pain.  His love for God was tested: Will that love remain strong even when His own life is in danger?  Does His commitment to mission accept the possibility of laying down His very life for God or does it rather tenaciously cling to self-preservation instead?  Even before He actually faced His passion and death, Jesus was tested if His love for God holds fast even when His life is slipping away.

It is clear to Jesus that loving God and being loved by God never means exemption from sufferings and even death.  Thus, He committed Himself to God and loved Him in joy and in pain, in comfort and in hardships, in life and in death.  He was totally and madly in loved with God.  Before His passion meant the tortures and crucifixion He was made to suffer, it already meant His love for God.  Jesus’ passion was, is, and will always be His love for God.  He is passionately in loved with God.

Jesus draws us into His passionate love for God.  He invites us to enter into that love between Him and the Father, and so He calls us to go into the wilderness with Him where He allows our motivations in loving God be purified, our resolve to obey God be strengthened, and our sight of where our heart is – and therefore our real treasure – be made clearer.  But Jesus also teaches us that while our commitment to God saves us, it never makes us safe.

What is our wilderness?  May we truly enter into it during these Lenten days and, with Jesus, courageously but always humbly, face our real selves, for, as the Apostle Paul tells us in the second reading today, “No one who believes in Him will be put to shame.”  In our wilderness, let us examine our commitment to God.  Is it passionate, loving, and steadfast?  Let us also examine our hatred for evil.  Is it real, firm, and actual?  In the wilderness where we are tested – never alone but always with Jesus – who knows, we might find our real treasure and the freedom we always long for.

MARKADO KA NA!

Ikalimang Linggo sa Karaniwang Panahon

Lk 5:1-11 (Is 6:1-2a, 3-8 / Slm 137 / 1 Cor 15:3-8, 11)

May mga sandali sa buhay natin kung kailan ay tambad na tambad sa atin ang ating sariling mga kahinaan at mga kamalian sa buhay.  “Gusto kong bumait pero di ko magawa,” sabi ng isang kanta at tutoong-tutoo ito para sa marami sa atin.  Minsan, parang billboard sa ating harapan, tila ipinagsisigawan sa atin ng malalaking titik ang bawat kasalanang nagawa natin.  Kilala natin ang ating sarili at batid nating kapos ang sarili nating kakayahan para iwasto ang anumang namali natin, buuin ang winasak natin, paghilumin ang sinugatan natin.  Parang wala na tayong pag-asa at ang pagnanais na magbago ay palabo nang palabo.  Hindi tayo makasulong.  Bihag tayo ng ating madilim na kahapon, hindi makawa-wala sa tanikala ng mga kasalanang umalipin sa atin noon.  Parang mantsa sa damit na disin sana’y busilak sa kaputian, ang mga pagkakamali natin sa buhay ay nakamarka na sa ating pagkatao habambuhay.  Minsan pa nga nasasabihan tayo: “Markado ka na!”

May tatlong “markado” sa ating mga pagbasa ngayong Linggong ito: si Isaias, si Pablo, at si Simon Pedro.  May mga bahid ng kasalanan ang kanilang nakaraan.  Katulad natin, hindi sila makapagyayabang na lagi silang malinis at walang-kapintasan.  At hindi nga naman sila nagyayabang.  Sila rin ay may mga kahinaan at mga kamalian sa buhay.  Markado na sila.

Nang magkaroon ng pangitain si Isaias sa Templo sa Jerusalem, higit niyang nasaksihan ang ganap na kabanalan ng Diyos.  Subalit sa halip na mapako ang kanyang pansin sa Diyos, natuon siya sa kanyang sarili.  Nabighani siya sa kaluwalhatian ng Diyos ngunit nahabag siya sa kanyang kadustahan.  “Kawawa ako,” wika ni Isaias.  “Marumi ang aking labi at naninirahan sa piling ng mga taong marurumi rin ang labi.  Mapapahamak ako ‘pagkat ako’y isang makasalanang nakakita sa Panginoon, ang Makapangyarihang Hari.”  Dahil nakita ni Isaias ang kabanalan ng Diyos bilang walang-kasingandang pangitain na nagpatingkad sa kanyang pagkamakasalanan, lubha siyang nalungkot.  Subalit hindi siya nanatili sa pagkahabag sa sarili sapagkat tinanggap niya ang kapatawaran ng Diyos nang ito ay ipagkaloob sa kanya.  Dahil nanalig siyang tunay ang kapatawarang kaloob ng Diyos, naging malaya siyang tumugon sa tawag ng Diyos.  Hindi na siya nagmukmok sa kanyang pagiging di-karapatdapat.  Kinalag ng kapatawaran ng Diyos ang tanikalang pumipigil sa kanyang sabihing: “Narito po ako.  Ako ang isugo n’yo.”

Ang pagiging di-karapatdapat din ba ang tanikalang pumipigil sa atin na tumugon nang lubusan sa tawag ng Diyos?  Matagal na tayong pinalaya ni Jesus.  Bakit tayo paaalipin sa ating nakaraan?  O baka naman hindi talaga kababaang-loob ang namamayani sa ating pagkilalang hindi tayo karapatdapat kaya hanggang ngayo’y pinaghihintay pa rin natin ang Diyos sa tugon natin sa Kanyang tawag sa atin?  Puwede rin kasing kayabangan.

Pagkatapos nang siyam na taon sa seminaryo, ipinasiya kong lumabas.  Nagtrabaho ako.  Namuhay bilang isang pangkaraniwang binata.  Nagmahal at minahal.  Pero kulang talaga.  Nagbalik ako sa spiritual director ko at unti-unti sa seminary na rin.  Nang magpapasiya na akong babalik na talaga sa seminaryo, kinausap ko ang isang babaeng may malaking pitak sa puso ko.  Sinabi ko sa kanya ang dahilan kung bakit nagdadalawang-isip akong bumalik ng seminaryo para magpari: “Pakiramdam ko, am not worthy anymore.”  Dahil siya ang nagmamaneho sa kotseng sinasakyan namin, itinabi niya ito, tsaka pinatay ang makina, at tumitig sa akin, sabay sabi: “Ang yabang mo!”  “Huh, bakit?” tanong ko.  “Kasi,” sagot niya, “you want to be worthy first before you answer God’s call.  Then, you will never answer Him at all because no one – not even the pope or any saint – is worthy of God’s call.  Will you just please say ‘yes’ to God?  Natameme po ako talaga.  Hindi ko inaasahang manggagaling sa kanya ang mga katagang iyon.  Mas lalong hindi ko inaasahang siya pa ang magtuturo sa akin ng landas pabalik sa seminaryo at magtatanggal ng batong sagabal sa pagsunod ko kay Jesus.  Kundi dahil sa kanya, malamang nagmumukmok pa ako sa aking pagiging di-karapatdapat o maaaring tuluyan na akong lumayo sa Diyos dahil hindi ako bagay sa Diyos.

Iyon din ang reaksyon ni Simon Pedro sa Ebanghelyo, hindi ba?  Mahuhusay na mangingisda si Simon Pedro at mga kasama: alam nilang sa gabi mainam mangisda dahil lumalangoy pataas ang mga isda kaya’t madaling mahuli.  Nagpagal silang magdamag ngunit sa kabila noo’y wala pa rin silang huli kahit isa.  Pinayuhan ng karpintero ang mga dalubhasang mangingisda na hindi lamang ilaglag muli sa lawa ang kanilang lambat kundi ilaglag ito sa liwanag ng kaumagahan.  Tinupad ni Simon Pedro ang salita ni Jesus, at ang salita ni Jesus ang bumingwit kay Simon Pedro.  Nakahuli sila ng napakaraming isda, nahuli naman si Simon Pedro ng sinunod niyang salita.  Nang matanto ni Simon Pedro na may kinalaman ang Diyos sa malahimalang ani nila, nabatid naman niya ang sarili niyang pagkamakasalanan.  Marahil nangangatog pa, ang reaksyon ni Simon Pedro ay palayuin si Jesus sa kanya.  Bakit daw po?  “…sapagkat ako’y makasalanan,” dahilan ni Simon Pedro.

Mabuti na lang at hindi lumayo si Jesus kay Simon Pedro.  Paanong lalayo si Jesus sa mga makasalanang tulad ni Simon Pedro, gayong sila nga ang hinahanap Niya?  Sa Lk 19:10, sinabi ni Jesus, “Naparito ako upang hanapin at iligtas ang mga naliligaw.”  Kung maglakbay si Jesus, papalapit hindi papalayo: papalapit Siya palagi sa mga makasalanan hindi papalayo.  Nakikisalamuha Siya sa kanila, dinadalaw sila sa kanilang mga tahanan, nakikisalo sa kanilang hapag, nakikipaghuntahan, pinatatawad, binibigyang-pag-asa, binubuong muli, at tinatawag tungo sa isang bagong paraan ng pamumuhay.  Sa Kanyang buong-buhay, si Jesus ay hindi kailanman nalayo sa mga makasalanan.  Anupa’t sa krus ay namatay Siya sa pagitan ng dalawa sa kanila, hindi ba?

Nais ni Jesus na makabahagi si Simon Pedro sa Kanyang buhay at misyon, kung kaya’t pinukaw Niya ang malabis na pagdidiin nito sa sariling pagkamakasalanan.  Minsan kasakiman din ang sobrang pagtutuon sa sariling pagiging di-karapatdapat sa Diyos.  Sa halip na ang Diyos, ang sarili pa rin kasi ang isinesentro natin kapag gayon ang gawi natin.  Kinilala’t tinanggap na ni Simon Pedro ang kanyang pagiging di-karapatdapat.  Sapat na iyon para kay Jesus para siya ay patawarin at anyayahang makibahagi sa Kanyang buhay at misyon.  Ipinakita ni Jesus kay Simon Pedro ang halaga nito para sa Kanya at hinahamon din Niya siyang gayon din ang gawin sa kapwa.  Ang dilis sa dagat ay ginagawang mangingisda ng pag-ibig ni Kristo Jesus.

Inulit ni Jesus ang ginawa Niyang pagtawag kay Simon Pedro pero hindi sa lawa o dagat kundi sa mabuhanging daan ng Damasco nang tawagin Niya si Pablo na dating si Saul (Tg. Gwa 9:1-20).  Dating mang-uusig ng mga Kristiyanong inakala niyang mga kaaway ng Diyos, si Pablo ay nabulag upang makakitang muli.  At nang makakitang muli, isiniwalat niya ang liwanag ng Ebanghelyo lampas pa sa inabot ng orihinal na mga apostol.  Dahil sa kanyang nakaraan, ipinahayag ni Pablo na siya raw ang pinakahamak sa mga apostol at ni hindi karapatdapat tawaging apostol (Tg. 1 Cor 15:9).  Subalit nanalig siya sa kapatawarang nakamtan ni Kristo Jesus mula sa krus para sa kanya kaya’t hindi rin siya nagmukmok sa kanyang pagiging di-karapatdapat ni nawalan ng pag-asa; sa halip, bumangon siya at tinupad ang misyong inilaan at ipinagkaloob sa kanya ng Diyos.  Hindi na siya bihag ng kanyang nakaraan.  Bihag na lamang siya ng pag-ibig ni Kristo.  Ang pag-ibig ni Kristo ang dahilan ng kanyang pagmamalasakit alang-alang sa Ebanghelyo: “Caritas Christi urget nos” (2 Cor 5:14).

Si Isaias, si Simon Pedro, at si Pablo – mga markado sila ng kanilang nakaraan subalit markado rin pala sila ni Jesus kahit ano pa ang kanilang nakaraan.  Hindi binubura ni Jesus ang iminarka na Niya sa atin bago pa tayo isilang, kahit pa mamantsahan tayo ng mga kasalanang sanhi ng ating mga kahinaan at mga pagkakamali sa buhay.  Hindi naniniwala si Jesus na nasusukat ang ating pagkatao sa dami o laki ng ating mga kasalanan.  Sa halip, naniniwala Siyang ang mga makasalanan ay may kinabukasan hindi lang nakaraan.  Dahil namatay Siya para sa ating mga kasalanan, naniniwala si Jesus na ang bawat-isa sa atin ay may halagang sapat para pag-alayan Niya ng sarili Niyang buhay.

Makasalanan tayo ngunit minamahal ng Diyos.  Makasalanan tayo pero tinatawag ni Jesus.  Sa mga mata ng Panginoon, markado na nga tayo…pero ng Kanyang pagmamahal.

BY THAT LOVE

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Lk 4:21-30 (Jer 1:4-5, 17-19 / Ps 71 / 1 Cor 12:31-13:13)

When the risen Jesus discussed with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus all that is said in the Scriptures concerning Him, as we read in Lk 24:13-31, He must have given an extra lecture on the Prophet Jeremiah.  In the light of the demands God made on him, and the kind of opposition and rejection he endured, the Prophet Jeremiah foreshadowed Jesus in many ways.

Jeremiah lived in the days when the Judean monarchy, that had Jerusalem as its capital, was collapsing.  He was yet a young man when the Word of the Lord came to him, as we have in the first reading today, sending him to his own people to convert from their evil ways.  A noble vocation indeed Jeremiah had but, as it turned out, it caused him unbearable suffering.  Called by rabbis as the “Weeping Prophet”, Jeremiah spoke of sorrow, announcing the coming destitution of his own people and witnessing the destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem.  Thus, it is easy to see why his own rejected and persecuted him.

In many ways, the sufferings of the Prophet Jeremiah foreshadowed Jesus’ own sufferings.  Both Jeremiah and Jesus were rejected by the religious leaders of their time (Jer 26:7-8 and Jn 11:47-53).  People of their own hometowns plotted against them (Jer 11:21 and Lk 4:28-30).  They were both denounced by the synagogue officials of their day (Jer 20:1-2 and Jn 18:13-24).  As Jeremiah was the “Weeping Prophet” so did Jesus weep over Jerusalem (Jer 9:1 and Lk 19:41).  Falsely accused, both Jeremiah and Jesus were beaten (Jer 37:12-15 and Mt 26:61; 27:26).  But through all these tribulations and undeserved pain, both Jeremiah the Prophet and Jesus the Christ remained faithful to their calling and to God Himself.  Though the Prophet, at the brink of despair, cursed the day he was born, he nonetheless, like the Christ, was not deterred by any persecution from accomplishing the mission God gave him.  Unlike Jesus though, Jeremiah was told by God of his own need to repent, for God would put a new heart in him and thereby God’s Spirit would, by inner locution, guide him.  Only then, would Jeremiah the Prophet grasp the meaning of God’s promise to him, the promise that concludes the first reading today: “…I am with you to deliver you.”

We are no Jeremiahs.  But we are Christians.  We are so intimately united to Christ that we are members of His mystical Body.  By virtue of our baptismal consecration, we share in the prophetic mission of Jesus just as we share in His kingly and priestly roles.  As Jesus’ kingly mission means humble service and not lording over others, and His priestly mission is the offering of one’s life to God, so does His prophetic role, in which we share, demands from us our authentic witnessing to His Kingdom through words and deeds.  Are we willing to be prophets for Jesus?  Can we be God’s Jeremiahs, too?  And like Jeremiah and Jesus, will we remain faithful to our prophetic mission through every tribulation and in all anguish that come with the calling?

But it is not brute courage or sheer willpower that will make us endure.  Not only is our strength in love; love alone is our strength.  The kind of love that St. Paul the Apostle describes in the second reading today from his First Letter to the Corinthians: patient, kind, not jealous, not pompous, not inflated, not rude, not self-seeking, not quick-tempered, does not brood over injury, does not rejoice over wrongdoing but rejoices in the truth, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all thing, endures all things.  It is the love that never fails even should prophecies themselves fail.  It is the love that, among the two others that remain in the end – faith and hope, is the greatest.  Do we have that kind of love?  Do we really love like Jesus?

It is, indeed, the love of Jesus.  That love is our strength, our courage, and our power not only in fulfilling our prophetic mission but also in bearing every trial that goes with that mission.  With that love, no persecution is so great and no rejection so deterrent for us.  By that love, we prophesy with our lives not with our lips.  In that love we embrace even those who hate us.