Second Sunday of Lent

From the First Sunday of Lent's desert, the readings of the Second Sunday bring us to the mountains. In our figures of speech we speak of mountains as obstacles, something we have to rise above, overcome, or flatten. In the Scriptures, mountains are a privileged place of encounter with God. Mountains are a privileged place of God’s revelation.

In the first reading, we could be horrified with the test God gives Abraham – he asked Abraham to offer his son as a holocaust, as a burnt offering. I remember from our class in Old Testament Historical Books, how the story unfolds in drama and intensity. Only a part of the story is read to us, but still, we could have a feel of the intensity. God called Abraham to test him. At one shout, Abraham responds immediately, “Here I am.” Abraham was always attentive to God, and he responds quickly. Maybe we should also ask ourselves, how quick we are to respond to God.

Then God tells Abraham, “Take your son, Isaac.” We could just imagine Abraham light up with joy at the mention of his son. Then God adds, “Isaac, your only son, whom you love.” We could just imagine Abraham’s love and affection for his son show up in his face. I always see this in my father’s face when he talks about us his children, all nine of us. But then there is more to God’s message: “Take you son, Isaac, your only one, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah. There you shall offer him up as a holocaust on a height that I will point out to you.” We could just imagine Abraham’s face drop in anguish. But he does not complain. Early the next day, he sets everything up, and as commanded, he obeys. It is not included in today’s selection, but at one point, while they going to the mountain, there was a conversation between Isaac and Abraham. “Father,” Isaac began. Affectionately, Abraham answered, “Yes, my son?” Isaac innocently asks, “I see that you have the coals and wood, but where is the lamb for sacrifice?” We could only imagine, this breaks Abraham’s heart, but not his faith, and he responds, “God himself will provide one.” And we know the rest of the story. God did not intend to have Isaac sacrificed. He was asking Abraham to sacrifice himself totally. Abraham obeyed, and for this he becomes the source of blessing for all nations.

Abraham here is a figure of God the Father who, as the Gospel of John tells us, “so loved the world that he sent his only Son so that all who will believe in him will have life.” At the same time, Abraham too is a figure of Jesus, who obeyed God’s will, even if it meant giving up what is most precious as Paul’s letter to the Philippians attest to: “Though he was in the form of God, Jesus did not deem equality with God, something to grasped at. Rather, he emptied himself, took the form of a slave, and accepted even death, death on the cross.”

Jesus accepted the will of God, not without human struggle. Remember that in the Garden of Gethsemane, he prayed, “Father, if possible, let this cup pass me.” But in the end, he submitted and obeyed, as he prayed, “But not my will, but yours be done.” Jesus knew what he was facing and so he intimated this to his disciples, who were of course incredulous, shocked and confused. “How can this man, whom we have followed and whom we think will lead us to defeat our oppressors talk about being arrested, tortured and killed? What is this all about? Where can we pin our hopes now?” These and many others could have been the confused questions of the disciples. And so Jesus brings three of them to a mountain. There, he transfigures before them. He shows them a glimpse of his glory. This was a revelation of who he is – that he is divine. It is thus an encouragement to the disciples that even though he will suffer and die, it will not be the end. Rather, there is glory that will come with it. Having revealed the glory of the Son, the Father speaks – “This is my beloved Son. Listen to him.”

Peter would have wanted that they stay in glory. But then, Jesus tells him that they have to go down the mountain, and face the command of the Father. They were to go down the mountain and obey the command of God, which will entail much difficulty, even persecution and death, but not without hope.

Today, we too are faced with the command of God – to turn to Jesus and to listen to him. There are many other voices. Often they are loud, forceful and dominant. There are voices telling us that this or that is what life is about, that this or that is what love is about, that this or that is what marriage is about, that this or that is what freedom is about, that this or that is the new and better way, that this or that is what consists of happiness, that this or that is what we should be and do. But there is only one voice that matters – Jesus. And this is what the Church echoes. It may be drowned, muffled, jammed, ridiculed by some, or even by many, but it still does not change the imperative. Jesus is God’s beloved Son. It is to him alone that we should listen. It is him alone whom we should obey.

As we continue with our Lenten journey, we pray for the gift of obedience – that we may listen to Jesus and obey only God’s will – even when unpopular, even when marginalized, even when ridiculed or labeled as outmoded, even when threatened by powers that be. We may be disdained by those whose values are of the world, but we know that true blessing can come only with obedience to God. Those who hold to the values of the world may consider us out of touch with trends, but what matters is that we are in touch with God’s will, and in the forthcoming, which is eternal, we will be justified.

The words of Paul in the second reading encourages us – “If God is with us, who can be against us? Who will bring a charge against God’s chosen ones? Jesus, who is at the right hand of God intercedes for us.”

Have a holy Lent.

First Sunday of Lent

We have just begun the Holy Season of Lent. We began with Ash Wednesday. We were marked with the ashes to remind us of our human condition of sin and death – of our need for forgiveness and our hope of eternal life. I noted in my reflection last Wednesday that we were marked with ashes in the sign of a cross, not with an “X”. At the outset, for me, this shows that although we have sinned, and because of that, we merit the consequence of sin, which is death, God has not put an “X” on us. God has instead given us the Cross – the Cross of Jesus Christ. And we are marked with the Cross – we are marked with the Love of God shown in its fullness by Jesus Christ, the Love of God which forgives ours sins and that gives us eternal life. This love we commemorate and celebrate at the most holy days of the Paschal Triduum (Holy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Thursday and Easter Sunday).

But we do not only commemorate and celebrate our redemption. We rather, enter into these mysteries – we take part in these mysteries, so that we will be recreated anew – we die with Christ so that we may rise anew with him. We are not passive recipients and inactive spectators. By our Baptism, we have died to sin, and have received new life. But as we go through every day of our lives, we come face to face with sin and death, and often times fall prey to them again. That is why, every year, we go through the liturgical seasons. Every year, we are invited to be made new again. Lent is part of this process of renewal.

The readings proclaimed to us today express this hope. In the first reading, from the book of Genesis, we hear what God did after the flood. The flood was a figure of the devastation that sin brings to us and to the world. Sin can, and does destroy not only our souls, but our whole selves, our relationships, our culture, the moral fabric of society, social, economic and political institutions, and even the environment, and the whole of creation. Sin brings destruction – and at its worst, total destruction. The flood, which symbolizes destruction is not God’s punishment. God does not want to destroy us and creation. Remember, he created us all and he saw and affirmed that was all good. It was our sin that destroyed our original goodness, and the original harmony of all.

But God does not mark us with an “X”. God did not give up on us. He delivered those who obeyed him – symbolized by Noah and his family, who made and boarded the ark. After the flood has subsided, God renewed his covenant with Noah and with all of creation. Creation has been made new. The promise of God, that never again will a flood destroy humanity and all creation, is actually both a promise and a challenge. God renews his love, gives it again to man, hoping that man will not turn away again, disobey God and sin, and bring destruction again to himself and all creation.

Now, it is interesting that all kinds of animals were with Noah and his family in the ark. Would not the animals fight against each other – prey and predator? Would not the wild animals pose a danger to the humans? They were in one ark, and nothing bad happened! Sin brought the disorder, chaos, violence to the world. Sin brought the flood, destruction to the world. But being in the ark somehow restored order, harmony and peace in creation. Being in the ark saved Noah and the animals.

Now, was there anybody too who was with wild animals but was not hurt, instead was even attended to by angels? The Gospel tells us that Jesus was in the desert, and he was with the wild animals, but there was no mention of conflict. Instead, it was just related by Mark as a matter of fact, and that he was attended to by angels. Mark tells us that Jesus is the new ark. Amidst the floods of chaos, violence and destruction caused by sin, in Jesus, order, harmony and peace are restored. In Jesus, we are saved.

Lent is a call to enter the ark. Lent is a call to return to Jesus. Peter in the second reading tells us that in Jesus, the waters that destroyed humanity and creation is transformed into the saving waters of baptism, by the love of God revealed in the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus. Unlike Noah, we do not need to build the ark. We need only to enter the ark. We need only to return to Jesus.

What does returning to Jesus entail? Jesus himself tells us – “Repent, and believe in the gospel.” First of all, we need to repent – to recognize our sins, ask for God’s forgiveness, and resolve not to sin again. And then we need to believe – to believe with our minds and hearts that God’s will is best for us, that God’s will alone can bring us true happiness, and to live in our lives what we believe.

This season of Lent, let us enter the ark. Let us return to Jesus. Let us obey the call of Jesus to repent from our sins, and believe in the Good News of God’s love. And hopefully, by the end of Lent, and as we take part in the celebrations of the Paschal Triduum, we may become a renewed person, renewed in our covenant with God, in our relationship with one another, renewed in our relationship with all of creation.

We pray for the grace of obedience. And let us this first week of Lent, consciously practice the virtue of obedience.

Lord God, teach us to turn from our sinful selves to your saving grace. When we pray, “thy will be done,” may we truly let go of our false independence and obey only your most holy will.” Amen.

Have a holy Lent.

30th Sunday in OT, Year A

The Revolution of LOVE

When Cardinal Ratzinger was elected Pope, people thought he would be a tough one, rigid and traditionalist, concerned with the institution of the Church, putting the Church in a defensive mode. They even ridiculed him intending the pun, “German Shepherd” for a German Pope who they thought would be on the guard, and nothing of the sort of the charismatic and revolutionary John Paul II, his predecessor. Not long after Pope Benedict XVI was made Vicar of Christ, he wrote his very first encyclical, and it was “Deus caritas est” – God is love. Nothing can be more charismatic of the faith and revolutionary for the world than this very basic but essential confession of faith that God is Love. The Pope affirmed the very nature of God, the heart of God, the most basic truth about God, that God is Love. God has loved us with the passion of eros, a love that keeps on loving and keeps on desiring the good of the beloved. God has loved us with the depth of agape, a love that is self-giving, that shares life to the beloved in a self-gift. Jesus exemplified the love of God, eros and agape.

Today, we hear Jesus declaring the two greatest commandments: Love God and love our neighbor. It is interesting to note that Jesus’s summary was not a prohibition, but rather an imperative. The Law of God is not restraining. The Law of God is enabling. The Law of God enables the good that disables the bad. The Law of God fulfills the best of us, and leaves no room for the worse in us.

The question of the law then is how to love. Jesus tells us, “first of all, love God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” Love God first, foremost and fully. Last Sunday we were told, “Render to Caesar what belongs to Caesar; and give to God what belongs to God.” The roman coin bore the image of Caesar, and so it had to be given back to Caesar. But we asked, what bears the image of God? We recalled Genesis which said that men and women are created in the “image and likeness” of God. So what do we give to God? Our very selves, our whole selves. We are made in the image and likeness of God, and we owe everything to God. What we should offer to God then is the gift of ourselves.

A total gift is also what is asked by the greatest commandment. To love God is to give him total allegiance, total control of our lives. The prayer of St. Ignatius of Loyola exemplifies this:

Take and receive, O Lord, my liberty. Take all my will, my mind, my memory. All things I hold, and all I own are thine. Thine was the gift; to thee, I all resign. Do thou direct, and govern all and sway. Do what thou will. Command; and I’ll obey. Only thy grace, thy love on me bestow. These make me rich. All else will I forego.

“You shall love the Lord you God with all you heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind.” There is however a twin to the love of God. Jesus tells us, “Love your neighbor.” If we truly love God, we cannot but love our neighbor. The First Letter of John puts it in this way: “If anyone says, “I love God” and hates his brother, he is a liar; (in the Bible, the devil is the father of lies) for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen.” (1 Jn 4:20) Benedict XVI writes that love can be commanded because we have been loved first. Not that love can ever be forced. Not that one can ever be commanded to love. It is rather because being loved enables and transforms the beloved to also share and give love. The Pope wrote, “God does not demand of us a feeling which we ourselves are incapable of producing. He love us, he makes us see and experience his love, and since he has “loved us first,” love can also blossom as a response within us.” I can love because I have been loved. The more I love, the more I grow in the love given me. A popular action song puts it rather simply but clearly:

Love is something that you giveth away, giveth away giveth away. And it come right back to you. It’s just like a magic penny. Hold it tight and you won’t get any. Spend it. Lend it. Give it away. And it comes right back to you.

Love grows through love. And this love is not simply a feeling. It is rather concrete. The first reading from the book of Exodus reminds us of the corporal works of mercy:

• To feed the hungry;
• To give drink to the thirsty;
• To clothe the naked;
• To shelter the homeless;
• To visit the sick;
• To ransom the captive;
• To bury the dead.

And we should add the spiritual works of mercy:

• To instruct the ignorant;
• To counsel the doubtful;
• To admonish sinners;
• To bear wrongs patiently;
• To forgive offences willingly;
• To comfort the afflicted;
• To pray for the living and the dead.

By these, we love our neighbor just as our God has loved us.

On a final note, although love of God and others are part of our very being, sometimes, we neglect and refuse to do so. Maybe because at times, we only look at ourselves, and love only ourselves. One popular ballad seems to be the anthem of many: “Learning to love yourself is the greatest love of all.” Me, myself and l. We tend to trust ourselves alone, seek to please and pleasure ourselves alone. We relate with each other in view of our selfish interests. Come to think of it, there is nothing wrong with loving ourselves. But we have to look at the bigger picture. If we look at the two greatest commandments, where do we find ourselves? In the love of God and in the love of neighbor. True love of the self is love of God and love of neighbor. Relating this to previous Sunday’s Gospel, we should remember that we are created in the image and likeness of God. If we love ourselves, we also should primarily love God of whom we are but an image. If we love ourselves, and if we love God, we should love others, who like us, are made in the image and likeness of God.

And if we all love ourselves in this way, putting God above all else, yes above all power, above all fame, above all wealth, above all treasures this earth has ever known, if we relate with one another in love, not in arrogance, or violence, or competition, or distrust, or discrimination, we will see a world transformed. And the love and good will we give, we receive back.

God is love. God has loved us. Since we have been loved first, then we are able and are called to love one another. What could be more basic and revolutionary at the same time?

Grapes and Tenants of the Vineyard

27^th Sunday in OT, Year A, 2011

We have two similar parables in our readings today.  From Isaiah we read of the parable of the unfruitful vineyard.  The vine grower has cultivated, watered and nurtured the vineyard.  But the grapes were sour, the vineyard was unproductive.  The vine grower asks, “What more was there to do for my vineyard that I had not done?”

Sometimes we also find ourselves in such disappointing, discouraging situations.  We toiled and worked hard, but our labors seem to be futile.  We loved and loved, and our love is unrequited.  We tried and tried, but we do not succeed.  We also ask, “What more should I have done?  Were all that I have done and given not enough?”

Although this is a relevant lesson, this is not all that there is in the parable in Isaiah.  This parable is about God’s offer of his live and love, his offer of the covenant, and the response of the people to God’s offer.  It is addressed to a people who had rejected God in spite of his goodness.  Like the owner of the vine, God has showered his people with his love, but they have continued to reject his offer.  They have continued to disregard and disobey him.  Like the vine grower, God asks, “What more was for me to do for my people that I had not done?”

This parable is taken up by Jesus.  Jesus is the most that God has done for his people.  The familiar John 3:16 is God’s answer to the earlier question.  “For God so loved the world that in the fullness of time he sent his only begotten Son so that all who will believe in him will not die, but rather, have eternal life.”  Jesus relates in the Gospel parable that there was a landowner who set up his vineyard so well, and entrusted this to tenants.  The tenants, however, although they were only tenants wanted the vineyard for themselves.  They wanted to be owners, not tenants.  At the time of vintage, the landowner sent his servants to gather his share.  But the tenants mistreated and even killed his servants.  He sent another delegation of servants, but the servants were treated no better by the tenants.  He so trusted the tenants so he sent his son.  But even the son was disregarded by the tenants.  They kill the son. 

This parable is addressed to the leaders of the Jewish community at the time of Jesus.  Jesus exposed the leaders’ rejection of Jesus.  He also exposed their violent schemes.  Here Jesus prefigures his own death.  He is the Son sent by the owner, but whom, as the tenants acted, the leaders will kill.

The parable of Isaiah illustrating the vineyard’s unproductiveness ends with the ruin of the vineyard.  The parable of Jesus illustrating the tenant’s usurping ownership of the vineyard, and the violence the tenants did, ends with the word that the vineyard shall be taken away from the tenants. 

While the parables speak of the Israelites and the leaders of the people, the parables also speak to us.  Like the vineyard, we have also been so generously and gratuitously cultivated, watered and nurtured by God.  We have been so richly blessed by God.  The greatest blessing we have received is Jesus.  We have to ask ourselves, “What grapes do we bear?”  Are we fruitful?  Are we producing the fruits of the Kingdom of God?  From the second reading,  we are asked, are we bearing fruit in “whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is gracious”? 

If we do not bear fruit in goodness, and reject God’s offer, we will also end in ruin.  Not that God wants that.  Not even because God would punish us.  It is rather that without God, we simply are nothing.  If we reject God’s offer of his goodness, we have nothing left, but our sorry selves.  God created and nurtured us, and apart from God, we are nothing, and cannot do anything of true worth.

Like the tenants, we are also stewards of God’s many gifts.  God asks us to give him his share.  Do we give God his fair share of our life, time, talent, treasure?  Do we invest in our spiritual development?  Do we responsibly take part in the growth of our parish, of our Church? 

If we do not give God his share of our life, time, talent and treasure, if we neglect to invest time and effort in prayer and the liturgy, our faith weakens, and even the little faith that we have can be disturbed and snatch away by the evil one.  If we do not take responsibility in nurturing our parish life, our Church, our parish will not prosper, and the Church is impoverished.  The United States, thankfully is still home to fervent and true Catholics.  But if we do not take care of our Catholic Faith in America, if we compromise and not give due recognition and place of Faith, the place of God in our communal life, and in our laws, God forbid, that one day we would find our society and nation devoid of its soul.

God generously offers us his life and love.  We are God’s vineyard.  We are God’s tenants.  We are called to bear fruit in holiness.  We are called to be responsible and committed stewards of God’s gifts.  God will not force his offer on us.  He gave us free will to make a decision for God. 

The example of Lorenzo Ruiz, the first Filipino saint whose feast is celebrated every 28^th of September is worth noting, not because I am Filipino, but because his example I think illustrates our needed commitment and conviction to the gift of faith that we have received.

Lorenzo Ruiz is a Filipino-Chinese mestizo, a lay man who was working as secretary and sacristan at his parish in Binondo, Manila.  When the Dominicans sent a group of missionaries to Japan, Lorenzo joined them.  At first, it was only to flee from a false accusation of murder made against him; but also with missionary zeal since he very well knew that what awaits him there is not a bed of roses.  As they evangelized in Japan, they were arrested.  At the court, Lorenzo was given a chance to renounce his Catholic Christian Faith.  If he denounces his faith, he will save his life.  The response of Lorenzo is recorded in the documents of the court.  He said, “I am a Christian and this I profess until the hour of my death; and for God I shall give my life…. As a Christian and for God I shall give my life….  And if I had a thousand lives, I will give them all to God.”

This Sunday, let us pray that we may choose God.  May we choose to follow Christ and be always faithful to him.  Amen. 

In Memory of Them, In Memory of HIM

Easter 6, A, 2011 (also Memorial Weekend) Homily

(Arlington National Cemetery)

First of all, I would like to greet you all a happy and meaningful memorial weekend. And tomorrow most especially, a happy and meaningful Memorial Day. Not being native of this great country, here only as transient (aren’t we all transient though?) it comes necessary for me to seek to know what the holidays, celebrations and traditions are about. I hope it would not be redundant for me to share what I have found out regarding the celebrated Memorial Day.*

I learned that Memorial Day marks the start of the summer vacation season, (and Labor Day its end). It is hence the day many begin prepping and putting to work their grills with hotdogs and burgers and steaks. It has also become a long weekend increasingly devoted to shopping, family gatherings, fireworks, trips to the beach, and national media events.

Over and above these, of course, I learned that this is a hallowed day. Now a federal holiday observed on the last Monday of May, it was formerly celebrated every 30th of May, honoring Union and Confederate soldiers following the American Civil War. It was first observed on 30 May 1868, when flowers were placed on the graves of Union and Confederate soldiers at Arlington National Cemetery, hence its old name, “Decoration Day”. After the First World War, the holiday changed from honoring just those who died fighting in the Civil War to honoring Americans who died fighting in any war. Today, it commemorates all men and women who died in military service to the United States. What began as a ritual of remembrance and reconciliation after the civil war, by the early 20th century, Memorial Day became an occasion for more general expressions of memory, as many people visited the graves of their deceased relatives, whether they had served in the military or not.

It is for me striking to note that this holiday is not just born of historical nostalgia, but that this holiday is hallowed (made singular, exceptional and yes, holy) by the memory of those who have lived and died in military service of the country, and by extension, all who have lived and died in service of the country. I find it striking to note that the remembrance is not of war, of triumphs over enemies, or of military strength and might, but a remembrance of valor, of bravery, of sacrifice. What is remembered is the sacrifice of men and women who loved and gave their life in service. I find it also striking that for many, this holiday, I know not only because it is a long weekend, has become an occasion for family reunions and homecoming. The remembrance of the dead becomes a celebration of life. The remembrance of sacrifice becomes a celebration of relationships which gives meaning to sacrifice. The remembrance of the loss of life of those who have died becomes a celebration of the gifts we have and enjoy now, so hardly earned through their sacrifice. And although not many of us had known, much less seen and interacted with these men and women in the flesh, we know we are one with them in our common values and aspirations. The reality of their absence becomes a celebration of presence. The nobility of men and women in the past makes us trust the goodness of men and women in the present.

There is indeed something powerful in remembering, in memory. Of course, some would be selective of memory, trying to obliterate those that are hurtful, and painful. But memory and keeping memory heals, renews, restores, unites, challenges, inspires. Memory, I would like to believe is a gift from God. What we do in the Mass is a memorial of the sacrifice of Jesus on the Cross. And in our remembrance, we do not simply wax nostalgic of his sacrifice. Rather we become one family of God as we remember. We are called to be in solidarity with one another as we celebrate, to be in solidarity with all else in the world who celebrate this memorial of Jesus, to be in solidarity with all for whom Jesus lived, suffered, died and rose again. And further, as wonderfully ritualized in the order of the Mass, when after recalling the Institution Narrative in the Consecration where and when the bread and wine become Body and Blood of Jesus, we are called to profess the mystery of faith, to proclaim the mystery we celebrate.

St. Peter in the Second Reading (1 Pet 3:15-18) reminds us of the character of this profession of faith that we are to make - “Sanctify Christ as the Lord of your hearts.” Christ suffered for us to lead us to God, to put death to the flesh and lead us to life in the Spirit. Because of this, we have hope. Therefor be ready to give an explanation to anyone who asks for a reason for our hope (need to have to confidence to speak of our faith, ergo, the need to study our faith). But do so of course, not with arrogance, but with gentleness and reverence (humility and charity). We will encounter opposition, so we are called to keep our conscience clear so that when we are maligned, those who defame our good conduct themselves may be put to shame. Suffer patiently. It is better to suffer doing good if that be the will of God than doing evil (which is often more comfortable and accepted, and tolerated, and has become the statistical norm.)

In the Gospel (Jn 14:15-21), as Jesus was nearing his suffering and death, he tells his disciples, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” In effect he was telling them, and us too, as he was about to leave, “when you remember me, remember me in obedience. To remember me is to keep my commandments.” The commandment of Jesus of course is, “Love one another as I have loved you. Love with a love that is willing to lay down your life for the beloved.” In love, Jesus is present – in love that is not merely affection, but love that is committed and obedient to God, love that is based on the truth of God, and keeps the truth – the truth that only in God can we have true life, true peace, the truth that only love that sacrifices and desires the true good of the other can bring true joy, true fulfillment, the truth that I am fulfilled only when I do not fulfill myself but when I seek the good of the other, the beloved. That is why we do not celebrate selfishness and arrogant self-preservation, or do we? No, we rather celebrate selflessness, for what is noble is bravery in sacrifice.

We often long for the nobility of the past, we long for heroic men and women to lead and guide us. We long for the prosperous and peaceful past and sometimes, looking at our present situation, realizing the dire state we are and could be in, we are tempted to despair and lose hope. Jesus in the Gospel tells us as he assured his disciples, we are not alone. He has not left us orphans. We are never forgotten by God. We say we remember the sacrifice of Jesus, but more than we can remember, God remembers. We are perpetually in God’s memory. Jesus asked the Father to send the Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit is with us. And with the Spirit, Jesus is with us, the Father is with us. This assurance calls us to a renewed hope for the future, and a strengthened vitality for the present.

This weekend, as we remember the men and women who lived and died in service of the country, let us remember too that our collective remembrance is a challenge and inspiration to ourselves be of service. In these difficult times, the temptation is to save ourselves. That will never work. As they say, we are all in this together. And as we are reminded of the faithful presence of the Holy Spirit in us and in the Church, let us be mindful of the power of the Holy Spirit, the power of the love, the power to take on the challenge of the memory of our faith – to love Jesus by obeying his commandment, to make him truly Lord of our hearts, our relationships, yes, of our country, and of all created reality.

Amen.


*Memorial Day facts and meaning had been drawn from internet articles.

Cooking and Homiletics

Let me share an article on Homiletics from Commonweal Online. Insightful.

*******************************************************************************

Joys (& Fears) of Cooking
A HOMILIST’S EDUCATION
Fr. Nonomen

It was a Mass celebrating a major anniversary of the parish and I was right in the middle of the homily. It was also one of those exquisite moments when the message and the congregation connected to such a degree that you could hear a pin drop. I drew another breath to begin the conclusion, and that’s when the cell phone went off. It belonged to the little old lady sitting in the first pew, in the bench designed for those who have difficulty walking. I assumed she would turn it off, but instead she actually answered it, and in that charmingly loud voice of the hearing-impaired, she said, “Yes, I’m still in church!....I don’t know….He’s still talking!”

People who are trying desperately to choke back laughter make a very distinctive sound. On that fateful morning, it was exactly that sound I heard starting somewhere in the fourth pew. I heard it—and then actually watched it—work itself halfway through the church, until it finally exploded into an all-out guffaw. My moment in homiletic heaven was history. I watched people lending tissues to each other and wiping tears from their eyes as their chuckles were winding down, and I knew the homily was over. I mumbled some non sequitur about the parish and joy and the God of surprises and returned to my seat.

Being a Sunday preacher is a scary business. It starts long before you stand at the pulpit. My homiletics professor told us that it takes a whole week for a homily to “cook,” and mostly she was right. Really, it starts on a Monday morning, when I read the Scripture for the coming Sunday, along with any number of relevant commentaries. Then it all sits in the brain, on a back burner, slowly simmering. Throughout the week, I hope it will get some fresh seasoning from timely newspaper articles and things I’ve observed in and out of the parish. The goal is to make my words about the Scripture slide from the head into the heart.

By Friday, I’m hoping my simmering thoughts make their way down the arm and into the hand that commits the first draft to paper. In a good week, some idea sets me on fire and I rush to write it down. First drafts, though, are always too long. “Never speak longer than you are interesting!” the professor would tell us, as she scanned us over the top of her eyeglasses. “And none of you is really that interesting….”

That made an impression. I always tighten things up on Saturday morning. The next step is to reduce all of the written text to the barest of speaking notes in order to “allow room for the spontaneity of the Spirit, which will only happen if the original is well-crafted to begin with,” as the Professor Lady instructed. Finally, any rough edges are smoothed off with a couple of rounds of practicing out loud.

Some weeks, the heart aches to be kindled with a good idea or an interesting angle. Sometimes the best that can be done is to assemble a “Frankenstein homily” from bits and pieces of sermons written long ago. This approach always comes with a side order of humility, the realization that no one remembers anything you said three years ago, no matter how brilliant and life-changing they told you it was after Mass.

Eventually, you take a deep breath and bring it all to the pulpit. Some days, the only distractions are a few screeching children or a couple of text-messaging teenagers. Yet more and more, I encounter another phenomenon. I might be talking about, say, marriage, and suddenly I sense all the long-married couples carefully training their attention on my words. Or, I might mention something about Aquinas and realize that a medieval scholar is sitting in the third pew. I start describing some ancient Palestinian cultural practice in order to give some context to the Gospel, and then I remember that the electrician who’s a regular at the 9 a.m. Mass completed a rigorous Bible study course at the local college.

When I preach, I am increasingly conscious that the people who must listen to my homilies reflect a dramatic change in the relationship between the clergy and the laity; specifically, the laity is more educated than ever before in the ways of religion, theology, and Scripture. This presents an exciting challenge; it also introduces an honest and healthy dose of fear. Facing my parishioners from the pulpit, I realize that I am less of a “guru” and more of a companion. My decades as a priest have taught me that my parishioners, like those in any faith community, preach the gospel powerfully in many different ways themselves. All I really need to do when I preach is hold up a kind of mirror so that those in the pews can see how God is at work in all of our lives.

Who knows, given the theological sophistication of so many laymen and women, one day we might figure out a way to allow anyone who feels called to “cook up” a homily to stand in the Sunday pulpit. As far as I’m concerned, it would be good to share the fears, the joys, and the little old ladies who come with the job.

************************************************************************************
(end of article)

Zacchaeus

There is in everyone a Zacchaeus, once a sinner, seeking for Jesus. The wonder is, even before one find Jesus, Jesus find him. And enters his house, and his heart. Receiving Jesus, Zacchaeus is never the same. Justice and compassion then flow from his heart. He is saved.

May we allow Jesus to find us today. May we allow him to come to our house. May we allow him to come to our hearts.

WE could also learn from the approach of Jesus.

God loves his creatures. His desire is to save not destroy. Wisely and compassionately, Jesus saved Zacchaeus. May we, the Church, mirror not only God's justice, but also his wisdom and compassion which alone truly saves.

Scarce, Scarred, But Never Scared

Click for the Readings: (14th Sunday of Ordinary Time)


“The harvest is great and the laborers are few.” There is a lack of priests, religious, missionaries to serve the whole Church. In my home parish, there are about 50,000 parishioners and there are two priests to serve them. The parish is subdivided into more than a hundred Basic Ecclesial Communities, each they ideally visit, celebrate mass with, and give formation sessions at least once a month. The scarcity of priests is a constant refrain.

But I suggest, Jesus did not only mean the 12 when he spoke of the scarcity of workers; he was sending the 72. He meant the whole of the Church. As he sent the 72, he also sends the whole Church. And in the whole of the world, the harvest is “great”, and the whole Church is but “few”. And could get fewer. There is as most of us could have learned a shifting tide in religion. The Christian population is diminishing where it used to be the foundation and the majority.

As the Lord sent the 72, he also sends all of us, into the world. He sends all of us to take on a more active witness of the Faith. He sends all of us to proclaim him to world – in our words and deeds, in what we preoccupy our thoughts with, what we say, what we do, and how we relate with other people. What is the message we are to proclaim? As Jesus instructed the disciples, it is a message of “peace”. To the world, we are to become ambassadors of peace. What is this peace? It is the peace that we have found in Christ, the peace of the Kingdom of God, the joy, fulfillment, completeness that is found in doing the will of God, no matter how difficult, no matter how challenging.

Active witness is bound to be challenging. To witness to the love and forgiveness of Christ amidst hostility and injury. To witness to the truth in the midst of lies. To witness to sacrifice in the midst of a pleasure seeking culture. To witness to simplicity in the midst of consumerism. To witness to humility in the midst of competition. To witness to purity in the midst of worldly temptation. Witnessing to Jesus, proclaiming the peace of Jesus entails confronting a world where contradicting values dominate. And we are sure to face opposition, we are sure to face difficulty. Jesus himself said to the 72, “I am sending you as sheep among wolves.” That is why the laborers are not only SCARCE. They are also SCARRED. As St. Paul says, the mark of a true witness of Christ is willingness to suffer for, with and in Christ.

Although SCARCE, and SCARRED, few and wounded, the 72, are not SCARED. When Jesus sent the 72, he told them to bring no money, no sack/bag, no sandals. They were only to bring themselves and Christ. Their very life was their witness, and Christ was their source of security. We are not scared to give witness because we have Christ. We can say no to hatred because we have Christ. We can say no to sin because we have Christ. Teens can say no to drugs and peer pressure because you have Christ. Married people can say yes to fidelity because you have Christ. Unmarried people can say yes to purity because you have Christ. We can say yes to honesty, integrity, service, because we have Christ. We can say yes to life because we have Christ. We can be the source of comfort and consolation that Isaiah spoke of, in a difficult and anxious world; we can be a source of joy, inspiration, encouragement, because we have Christ.

Like the 72, we are also sent by Jesus, to take an active witness of Christ in the world, right where we are and live. We are to preach Christ, not ourselves. Christ is the savior, not ourselves. And for us workers, Christ alone is the source of comfort and consolation, not ourselves, not even success. To have preached Christ is our goal. Mother Teresa of Calcutta was said to have been asked by some critics, “You take care of those old people, they still die, and you don’t change that.” In effect, they were saying, you are not successful. Her response was, “I didn’t know that I was supposed to be successful. I thought I was supposed to be faithful.” Her vocation was not to be successful, but to be faithful.

We, the laborers are scarce, few and little in the face of a great harvest. We are scarred, wounded, opposed, challenged. But we are not scared. We are sent, and we have Christ. We preach the peace that Christ alone can give. And our only boast is the Cross of Christ.

Ang Bulag, Nakakakita at Mulat

Ika-tatlumpong Linggo ng Karaniwang Panahon (30th Sunday in OT, Year B, 2009)

1. Dumating si Jesus kasama ang kanyang mga alagad sa Jericho – pero hindi sila nanatili sa Jericho – gumayak sila at paalis na sila ng Jericho, patungo sila ng Jerusalem, patungo sa pagpapakasakit, pagkamatay at muling pagkabuhay ni Kristo

2. Mayroong isang bulag na nakaupo sa tabi ng daan na namamalimos – si Bartimeo (Anak ni Timeo). Narinig niyang naroon si Hesus na taga-Nazareth kaya sumigaw siya – “Hesus, Anak ni David, mahabag po kayo sa akin.”

a. Tumawag siya kay Hesus dahil siya ay may kailangan. At kailangang-kailangan niya ito. Kaya nga siya nagsusumigaw at ang kanyang pagsigaw ay may sinasabi – “mahabag po kayo sa akin” – “have PITY on me” (hindi lang awa, kundi habag)
b. Ganito rin po ba tayo? Kapag may kailangan tayo, talagang nagsusigaw tayo sa padarasal. Kapag may gusto tayong makamit, sunog kilay, banat buto talaga para makamit yung minimithi natin.

3. Pinagsabihan siya ng mga tao at pinatahimik

a. Yaong mga taong naroroon, sinusubukan nilang pakinggan ang mga sinasabi at itinuturo ni Hesus. Maraming tao kaya mahirap marinig, at sumabay pa itong bulag na ito na nagsusumigaw.
b. Pinatahimik ngayon nila si Bartimeo. Total, isa lang naman siyang bulag at namamalimos, akala nila hindi naman siya papansinin ni Hesus. Ang mas masaklap, ang pagpapapatahimik nila kay Bartimeo, ay para na ring pagpigil sa kanya upang makatagpo niya si Hesus.
c. Ganito rin po ba tayo? Sa ating buhay, mayroon po tayong mga taong isinasantabi? Hindi pinahahalagahan? Marahil dahil sa kanilang katayuan sa buhay, katandaan o kabataan, pinag-aralan, nakaraan o ano pa man. (People we take for granted – maybe because of their condition in life, status, past, age)
d. O ang mas masaklap, mayroon po ba tayong mga taong pinipigilang lumapit o mapalapit kay Hesus? Marahil dahil sa ating salita, o gawa? O dahil sa ating hindi sinasabi o ginagawa?

4. Kung gaano katindi ng pagpigil ng mga tao kay Bartimeo, lalo pa siyang nagsisisigaw

a. Hindi siya patatalo ng ganun ganun na lang. Gusto niya talagang mapansin ni Hesus.
b. Ganito rin po ba tayo? Itinutuloy pa rin ba nating maging mabuti at mabait kahit mahirap? Itinutuloy pa rin ba nating mapalapit kay Kristo kahit parang napakalayo niya? Itinutuloy pa rin ba nating magpakaKristiyano sa isip, sa salita at sa gawa kahit na maraming tumututol, pumipigil at nagpapahirap sa atin? Umaasa pa rin ba tayo sa pagkalinga nang Diyos kahit pakiramdam natin ay pinabayaan at kinalimutan na tayo? (Do we easily give up and quit? Do we keep on asking, hoping, trusting, loving?)

5. Narinig sya ni Hesus

a. Narinig siya ni Hesus. Tumigil siya sa paglalakad. Kung tumigil pala si Bartimeo sa pagtawag, maaring hindi siya narinig at nadaanan lang siya. Hindi pa niya nakakatagpo si Hesus. Hindi pa narinig, at mas lalong, hindi pa nakita. Pero ramdam ni Bartimeo na nariyan na si Hesus.
b. Ganito rin po ba tayo? Nakikilala po ba natin si Hesus kapag dumaraan siya sa ating buhay? Hinahayaan lang ba natin siyang dumaan? Madali lang hanapin si Hesus sa simbahan kung saan naroon ang Santisimo Sakramento. Pero naroon din si Hesus sa iba’t iba pang tao, bagay at pangyayari. Maari ngang iyong nagpapahirap sa iyo ay nagpaparating din ng mensahe ni Kristo – sumasamo na kaharapin mo siya bilang isang Kristiyano.

6. Pinatawag ni Hesus si Bartimeo. Ang mga taong kanina lang ay pumipigil sa kanya ay umaalalay na sa kanya at nagsasabing, “Lakasan mo ang iyong loob. Tumindig ka. Ipinapatawagka niya.”

a. Ganito rin ang ating pagkakakilala kay Hesus – ipinakilala siya sa atin ng ibang tao – magulang, pamilya, kamag-anak, kaibigan, guro, and simbahan, mga seminars, libro, palabas at marami pang ibang paraan. Marapat lang tayong magpasalamat sa mga taong nagpakilala sa atin sa Diyos, mga taong naglapit at naglalapit sa atin sa Diyos.
b. Tulad nila, ganon din po tayo? Marami ring nangangailangang marinig at makilala si Kristo. Tayong nakarinig at nakakilala kay Kristo ay tinatawag ding maging tagapagpakilala sa kanya. Mayroon bang hindi pa nalalapit kay Kristo sa ating pamilya? Mayroon bang hindi pa nakakarinig at nakakakilala kay Kristo sa ating pinagtatrabahuan? Ibinabahagi ba natin ang ating pagiging Kristyano? O mga tsismis lang tungkol sa ibang tao ang ibinabahagi natin?

7. Iwinaksi niya ang kanyang balabal, paluksong tumayo at lumapit kay Hesus.

May naaalala ba kayong nagmamadali ring lumapit din kay Hesus? Narinig natin sa Ebanghelio ng isang nakaraang lingo yaong mayamang lalaki na marahil ay nakadamit ng mamahalin at lumapit kay Hesus at nagtanong, “Ano ang maari kong gawin upang mapalapit ako sa Diyos?” Ngunit itong mayamang ito, umalis ng malungkot. Iba ang “ending” ng kwento natin ngayong araw na ito.

8. Tinanong siya ni Hesus, “Ano ang ibig mong gawin ko sa iyo?”

May naaalala ba kayong tinanong din ni Hesus ng ganito? Nuong nakaraang lingo, tinanong ito ni Hesus kay Santiago at Juan na humiling na sila ay gawin pangunahing ministro ni Hesus sa kanyang kaharian.

9. Ang sagot ni Bartimeo: “Guro, ibig ko po sanang makakita.” “Humayo ka; magaling ka na dahil sa iyong pananalig.”

a. Hiniling ni Bartimeo na siya ay makakita. At ang hinihingi niyang paningin ay hindi lamang pisikal na paningin, kundi ang pananaw ng pananampalataya – “not only physical sight, but the sight of faith”
b. Ganito rin po ba tayo? Hindi po tayo tulad ni Bartimeo na bulag sa pisikal na pagkabulay, ngunit maaring mayroon din tayong pagkabulag - maaring espitwal na pagkabulag. Bulag sa ating pagkakasala. Bulag sa pangangailangan ng ibang tao. Bulag sa pagsasamo ng ating kapwa. Bulag sa mga nangyayari sa kapaligiran. Bulag sa nararapat na patutunguhan ng ating buhay.
c. Ang sikreto daw po ng pagkakaroon ng katahimikan sa buhay ay yaong makita ang tunay na katuturan ng buhay. Kung hindi raw po nating iminumulat ang ating mga mata sa tunay na katuturan ng buhay, para tayong mga manok na naputulan ng ulo, patakbo-takbo, hindi alam kung saan patungo, hindi namamalayang paubos na pala ang kanyang dugo, hanggang bumagsak na lang itong wala nang buhay.

10. Nakakakita na si Bartimeo.

a. Ngayong nakakakita na si Bartimeo, nagkaaroon na hindi lang ng liwanag ang kanyang buhay, kundi nagkaaroon na rin ito ng direksiyon – ng patutunguhan. Ang sabi nila, ang hindi raw marunong lumingon sa pinanggalingan, hindi makararating sa paroroonan. Ang maari naman nating idagdag, ang hindi mulat sa kanyang paroroonan ay walang kahihinatnan. “If we do not know our goal, we are going nowhere.”
b. Pagkatapos natanggap ni Bartimeo ang biyayang kanyang inaasam-asam, sumunod siya kay Hesus

Idulog natin sa Diyos ang ating mga pangangailan. Idulog din natin sa kanya ang ating mga pagkabulag. Hilingin nating pagtibayin niya tayo upang mamulat tayo, sa ating kapwa, sa ating sarili, sa ating patutunguhan, sa kanya na ating Diyos. At sa pagkamulat, sumunod kay Hesus – sa Jerusalem ng ating buhay kung saan mayroong araw-araw ng pagpapakasakit, pagkamatay, ngunit may inaasahang muling pagkabuhay. Amen.