In My Father's House

Patience and Fr. Bob

2008-04-23T08:03:00.000+08:00

Patience is the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties.Impatience is an opposite of patience or having a lack of patience. (from Wikipedia).

I will be graduating this Friday in UP. I love to tell my friends that I would be getting two MA degrees: one for Comparative Literature, the other for Patience. After a series of delays, postponements and last-minute changes within a four-year period I would be getting my diploma. And of course, to those who studied in UP or know UP system, patience is really a virtue that you should always carry with you.

But no, really, I'm a very impatient person. I hate situations wherein I have to wait for more than what I have planned for the day. I easily get annoyed by people who agree meeting me at a certain time but would show up 30 or 45 minutes late. I tend to walk out of conferences or seminars that do not start on time. I complain when movies do not commence on the advertised schedule. When I was a kid that I went home alone after attending Mass in Parañaque when my elder sister did not show up after ten minutes of appointed time and place. I had to walk some eight kilometers back home only to find that my sister was not home either. So I had to walk back to the church. I was five years old at that time and had to cross Bicutan interchange twice!

Long queues at ATM's, flight delays, bus drivers and conductors who take their sweet time at stop-overs, waiters who make me wait interminably really get me fuming mad. I am a very impatient person. But last week I was given a crash course on the value of waiting and being patient. I just came from Mall of Asia with my brother and his kids. I chanced upon Fr. Bob Hogan seated like a toddler on the stairs of Loyola House of Studies lobby. His hands were on the rail of the ramp for wheel-chair bound persons. His eyes, straight, focused on the driveway. He was obviously waiting for someone. I approached him and asked matter-of-factly,
"Father, are you okay?" To which he replied softly, "I sure am." Then I asked him the obvious, "You're waiting for someone to pick you up?"
"Yes, I am."
"How long have you been waiting here?"
"Well, she said she's going to pick me up at around 7:00." I looked at my watch and told him,
"But it's already 8:45, Father. Do you think she's still coming?"
"I'm not sure."
'But you're still going to wait."
"For a few more minutes."
"Really, you are that patient?"
"Well," he said without any hint of bragging, "I just spent an hour with a lady who had been lying sick in bed for 7 years. I think I can wait for a little more."
"That's incredible, I wish I had even half of your patience." To which he merely shrugged his shoulders as if saying, that's how my life's been, one of patient waiting.

I went to my room and promptly forgot about the incident. At 10 pm I called the porter and asked whether someone did pick Fr. Hogan up. The porter said no, nobody came. I asked when did Fr. Hogan leave his place, the porter replied, about past nine. I even forgot to ask the old man if he had eaten before his long wait with someone who never showed up.

Patience. I realize how easy it is for me to dismiss people who do not meet my expectations, who do not show up on time at the exact appointed place and hour. It's easy to label them as insensitive and chronic late-comers. Easier even to say that MY TIME is more important than theirs. Yet this one old Father showed me much more than I can learn from self-help books and recollections: that patient waiting is a divine act. Divine because it allows people to commit mistakes without judging them. It enables those who wait patiently to exercise their freedom, their generosity and understanding to be in the position of those who are being waited. Patience recognizes the need to let go of our desire to control many things including those that are really beyond our control.

And finally, patience recognizes too that in one time or another, people have been patient with me when I needed it most.

The Gucci Gang Controversy and the Challenge of Spreading the Word of God

2008-04-22T12:00:00.000+08:00

For days I have resisted the urge to type in Google's search box the phrase "Gucci Gang" for fear of stumbling into a "mindless and shallow" controversy that is currently rocking bloggers' world. I had been hearing stories spread from mouth to mouth about a certain Australian blogger who created a blog so he could exact vengeance (financial and psycho-emotional) against a high society member who did him wrong. The Australian threatens that until he is fully paid of the money owed him by his erstwhile lover and now mortal enemy, he shall continue to write revealing stories about the latter and his cohorts now known as the Gucci Gang. Local and international papers carried stories about the so called members of this gang and the things they supposedly do because they could afford to do it (and all because they are "high and mighty," says one blog commenter).

A few days ago, I threw caution to the wind and gave in to the itch of peeking into the lives of the most talked about personalities in the whole world wide web. From the moment I read the first entry of Brian Gorrell's blog I knew I was taken completely like an Earthling whisked into a hitherto unknown yet fascinating and fearful galaxy. Fascinating because the blog entries are written in flowing prose with the cadence of poetry while the stories read like the latest in Korean soap opera. Fearful because I have not read anything like it--the foulest and most irate words ever written against persons enough to make a grown man weep with shame.

In less than thirty minutes I was introduced to a world of intrigue involving fame, fortune, drugs and betrayal. I went back to the site again and again sniffing for more. The accusations and counter-accusations have yet to be proven in proper courts but what frightens and frustrates me is the possibility that those who are involved in the controversy and the people who want to get a slice of them may have been people we attended school with, taught, learned and went to church with. Judging by the flawless command of English written as reaction and responses by those who visited the blog, we could assume that they are 1) young men and women who attended or finished college, 2) have work in urban centers as they are familiar with the trendy bars and hang-out places, 3) know a thing or two about the members of the group and 4) are willing to spill the beans on those who have time to listen.

Mr. Gorrell was catapulted to a celebrity status when his blog clogged internet lines that Google initially contemplated shutting his site down to prevent traffic. His overnight success earned him a place in Wikipedia and all of a sudden CNN and other international media outfits are after him. Now he can talk all he wants and he has the world all ears. How easy it is for him (and for any other person who has the guts and gumption to tell all) to get willing and listening ears.

I wish the same was true with people who write and speak about the Word of God--that they get a million hits each time they post something about their reflection. Luckily we have a few people who continue to write about God and things of God despite the meager number of visitors to their sites. I was reminded of that story about a boy who learned that a dam in his village was about to burst. When everyone was told about the impending disaster and was preparing to leave, they boy remained, he stuck his finger in the crack of the dam, hoping that doing so would buy precious time for his villagers to escape.

Such is the challenge awaiting those few souls who preach the Word of God "in season and out of season."

In My Fathers' House

2008-03-27T07:04:00.000+08:00

In My Fathers’ House

"In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14: 2

When asked by a friend where in Cagayan de Oro was the best place to eat, Fr. Jett readily replied, “Loyola House.” The president of Xavier University was not kidding nor was he being partial to the members of his community at the Jesuit Residence. He was simply telling the truth.

It is not really that we have feast everyday. Special dinners at Loyola House are limited to major Church holidays, feast days of Ignatius and Xavier and birthdays of Jesuit priests and brothers. Outside of these special occasions, mealtimes at Loyola are plain ordinary. However, among the younger Jesuits of the house, we are in agreement that it is always better to eat at home rather than in any other place in the city because it is expensive to eat outside and the food is not always as good.

What is the secret of Loyola House? What makes residents and visitors stay for dinners and give generous comments on our meals? In my two years of stay at Loyola House, I have not purposely missed any dinner as much as I would not want to miss our communal liturgical activities. I have been thinking what makes our community special, what’s in it that we could forego invitations to eat in posh restaurants just to be with our fathers and brothers. These may be the reasons why.

We have an excellent chef in the person of Bro. Jody who is in charge of the kitchen, dinner preparations and serving. He is our secret weapon. His taste buds are as discriminating as Remy of the Ratatouille animated movie. He is very strict in the choice of ingredients, always insisting on the exact amount, freshest quality and instructs the kitchen staff to meticulously follow cooking directions.

But more than the food, I think it is the companionship, the collegiality and friendship of this motley crew of Jesuits with age gap as wide as six decades that keeps us together at dinner tables. We may be as colorful as any cast of characters in a comedy series or we may have different temperaments ranging from the saintly to the combustible, one common thread that binds us all is our love for conversations. Pick any topic under the sun, comment on it and pretty soon you’ll have the Jesuits around you talking seriously, passionately and animatedly about it.

We also like some friendly banter, the joking around at the expense of oneself and one another. Former Fr. General Pedro Arrupe cautioned young men who wanted to enter the Society of Jesus with this: You have to have a sense of humor if you want to join the Jesuits. This love of humor and exchange of sharp wit spice up any of our stale viands and transform them into something ambrosial.

However, for us scholastics who recently finished our regency assignments at Xavier University, what we would certainly miss is our fathers and brothers who are so unsparing with their praises and so lavish with their care and concern for us. Whenever we do the littlest things, they are always there to thank us and congratulate us, profusely and sincerely, that it sometimes makes us blush. They look for us whenever we are not around, wish us good luck on our upcoming projects and activities, ask later on about its successes and short-comings, pray for us when we leave for distant places and welcome us back home with smiles on their faces. You can’t get that even in the most expensive restaurant in all of Cagayan.

They say that Cagayan is the City of Golden Friendship. It is true. I have gained some good friends here, sometimes whole families. But what I would really cherish and miss most as I go back to Manila is the friendship that I made inside our very own home, in my fathers’ house.

To the members of Loyola House Jesuit Community, for inspiring us, mentoring us, showing us the deeper meaning of “Friends in the Lord,” A BIG THANK YOU.

Speak Loudly, Love

2007-03-01T10:19:00.000+08:00

Last Wednesday, February 21, was Ash Wednesday. We begun our formal entry into the season of Lent: A Season of Love and Loving. Nothing can be more spectacular, more profound and dramatic than the Love of the Greatest Lover of all time: Our Lord Jesus Christ. We allowed the ministers of the Church to smear our foreheads with ash taken from the remains of palm branches of last year’s Domingo de Ramos. Just why are we doing this? Can we not just quietly go into a silent and less conspicuous way of reminding ourselves that despite our best efforts we have not approximated God’s glory and we falter along the way to perfection?

Actually, we can. But here's the catch: our Lord is a proud and loud Lover. He wants to declare from the top of the world, from deep within the deepest of seas and across broad valleys, how immense and great and lasting His love is for us! He is the type of God who wants to proclaim His undying love not simply by texting “luv u”. He wants us to understand, in loud and clear manner, and sometimes with accompanying heart-rending background music how He adores us. His love is not secretive and cannot be hidden like the love theme of the movie The Godfather:

Speak softly, Love so no one hears but the sky…

As much as possible Christ wants everyone to hear what He has in his heart. This He has shown by dying on the cross—perhaps the most scandalous and ridiculous event that happened in the history of mankind. And also the loudest. But that’s how He is, a fountain of love whose very essence is to give forth love. He was willing to undergo unspeakable torture and agony just to be able to communicate audibly this love which is also the Father’s love for Him. And for us. If there is a song that could capture this great love of Christ for us, it is Josh Groban’s Se from Cinema Paradiso:

If you were in my eyes for one day / You could see the full beauty of the joy / I find in your eyes / And it isn’t magic or loyalty / If you were in my heart for a day / You would have an idea / Of what I feel / When you hold me strongly to you / Heart to heart, / Breathing together / Protagonist of your love / I don’t know if it’s magic or loyalty / If you were in my soul for a day / You would know what is inside me / That I fell in love /At that instant, together with you / And what I sense / It’s only love. /

Huh! Tough love. Can anyone top that?

The Gospel According to Wrestlers

2007-02-13T21:20:00.000+08:00

As a kid I loved sleeping over at my uncle’s house on Wednesday nights just so I could watch my favorite wrestling program. Once the program had started, nothing and no one could drag me away from my seat, which I fiercely guarded, in front of the television. But when I learned in grade school that the human body was actually composed of fragile bones and tearable muscles, my fascination at watching Hulk Hogan take on a dozen opponents at one time all but faded. I had also confirmed the rumor that the matches were “scripted” (actually, choreographed is a more accurate term) and that those gargantuan guys were merely actors with over-sized biceps and bloated egos.

However, when I heard that the 2006 Wrestle Mania champion, Dave “The Animal” Batista, is half-Filipino, I have since reconsidered my smug snobbery of what advertisers pride as “the greatest show on earth.” From time to time I would watch the highlights of The Animal’s fights and I would be transported back to the days when nothing was better than a glass of warm milk after watching a good Wednesday night wrestling match. From the furtive glances at Batista’s Smackdown and RAW fights I am re-acquainted with the likes of Kane, Chris Benoit, Triple H, Rey Mysterio, JBL, Randy Orton and the Big Show. Watching them perform—as they jump and dive, elbow and punch, kick and slap, and strangle each other and utter insults at one another—make me realize that they are actually re-enacting in a crude fashion some Gospel values. Yup! Absurd as it may sound but you read it right: The Gospel according to 300-pound wrestlers.

Take for example how the 165-pound, 5’3” dimunitive wrestler, Rey Mysterio, who pinned down and beat the 500-pound Big Show. Or how the over-bearing and overly-dressed JBL who always arrived in the arena in his spanking new limo was humbled by a virtually unknown newcomer. Kings like Booker T were dethroned by mere gladiators like Batista and those who bragged their titles about were stripped of them. In wrestling, size and number do matter but they do not an outcome make. Reversals of fortune do happen here as they are proclaimed in the Gospels.

The Blessed Virgin Mary beautifully and eloquently speaks about these and other reversals when she sings of the goodness of the Lord in her Magnificat—of how a mere maidservant could be hailed as the greatest of all women whom all generations shall call blessed, and of how those who languished for the longest time would finally find reprieve.

He has shown might with his arm, has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly.
The hungry he has filled with good things but the rich He has sent away empty. (Lk 1:46-55)

And this is what usually happens in wrestling matches. The “Big” threatens the small ones. The powerful belittles the weak. The famous and wealthy scorn those who have none. But they who remain humble and trust not in the vigor of their own arms but fight until the last of their breath “shall regain their strength” (Is 40:31). They who do not cheat and whose “hands are clean” and have not “sworn as to deceive” another (Psalm 24), they shall ascend the throne [the mountain of the Lord] as rightful kings.

Finally, in wrestling matches, as in our daily lives, there are what we call Tag Teams. Two wrestlers face a pair of opponents and together they aim to defeat them. One wrestler for example may try to outwit and outplay another from the opposing team. But should he be weaker than his adversary, when he is weighed down and can no longer move, when he comes close to losing strength and hope, all he needs to do is reach his arm out and touch the finger of his tag partner (like the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ cloak in Mt 9:20-22) and help is on its way.

In one way or another we may experience like we are being belittled, threatened, scorned by others more powerful and more intelligent than us. We may also feel that the weight of the whole world is on our bare shoulders and that we are losing stamina and strength to move on. We feel that we are ready to give up. We acknowledge that some things are just too much and too big for us. And it is in this recognition of our weakness and neediness that we get the help that we need. All we have to do is reach out our arm, or even lift a finger high, and the Ultimate Tag Partner shall finish the job for us. Isn’t that comforting a thought?

Now the more important question is, in the daily grind of your life, have you considered Jesus as a viable and available Tag Team partner?

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.

Singing like Vincent Van Gogh

2006-06-22T06:26:00.000+08:00

What happens when a tone-deaf scholastic leads four new prenovices in singing The Theme from The Cardinal ? Well, your guess is as good as mine. I've always wondered whether St. Augustine was serious when he said, "To sing is to pray twice." Or if he did consider the fact that of the 4 point something billion people in this planet, only 0.000000012 % can sing like Pavarotti. While the rest of us mortals agonize over our "doe, a deer, a female deer" these demigods of the musical notes are already belting their Better Days song at age three.

What happened last night during our chant class was not really a total disaster. We just need, a little, um, practice! We may not be as good as the Vienna Boys Choir or Les Choristes du Saint Marc but we sure have the heart when it comes to praising God. And praise Him, we sure will, as long as we live. Now, it's really up to Him whether He would consider our singing praising or just plain croaking. Ribbit boys!

Moving Out, Moving On...

2006-05-06T06:15:00.000+08:00

I have just finished cleaning the room that I would vacate for its new occupant. It took me several days to do it. I still have some packing to do. But that can be easily done. What's taking too long is deciding on which stuff do I keep and which to throw away. I am a very sentimental person. I keep the smallest post-it notes given to me by friends. I keep receipts and movie tickets. I have worn-out business cards of friends that I haven't been in contact with for the last five years. Even spent pens find their way into my things. I know who gave what to me so it was taking me forever whether I would throw away what things. It's like you are throwing away a memory of a friend or a loved one no matter how cheap or ordinary the gift was.

But we all need to move on. We can't carry everything with us. It would be too burdensome to be carrying all the stuff we have especially those of no use to us anymore; or those that might cause harm to us. If life is a journey, we have to travel light....

On Monday, May 8, I'll be moving to my new home and work assignment in Cagayan de Oro City (Southern Part of the Philippines). I will be Director of our pre-novitiate house there and at the same time teach literature at the college.

When A Brother Leaves...

2006-03-25T07:43:00.000+08:00

Last Thursday we serenaded a Jesuit brother who decided to leave the congregation. At four am, we sang him songs that we usually sing for those who have just arrived in the novitiate and for those who are departing (this life). There where about twelve of us, sleepy-eyed, unwashed Jesuits, trying to fight sleep and tears from overcoming us.

Then it just dawned on me, that this brother of mine, will cease to be a brother to us. Yes, he will teach in the same university that I, we shall teach, but the brotherhood is broken. I'm not saying that we are not friends anymore, we are. I will not be able to relate to him as I used to as a Jesuit. He will just be a colleague. And being colleague is just as good as being a brother, but it's different.

Looking back, I am again reminded that for us, That's what life is inside. We arrive. We stay for awhile. We leave at once. We leave for longer time. We depart, to never return. New ones arrive. And the cycle repeats itself over and over again. Meanwhile fierce friendships are forged. Life-long partnerships in mission are born. Leaving comes. Death comes. Life begins.

To Art and your out-of-this-world laughter and shrill voice: you will surely be missed.

God Questions (What's Yours?)

2006-03-16T17:04:00.000+08:00

I tried Yahoo! Answers Beta. I typed this question: "If God is answering some of the questions we post here, what would your question be?" And I got some pretty, thought-provoking, heart-warming response. Here are some of them:

When can I come home. (I'm not talking about my house.)
What is President Bush's purpose?
What are God's plans for me in the future?
When is the BIG day? P.S. And can I watch?
Why are the democrats morally wrong? aka ted kennedy, bill clinton, jfk...etc ?!?!
and why did you divide us?and when is your next son coming?
wat is my purpose in life? haf i achieved it? or izzit yet to come?
how is my grandad?
did my hamster haf to die?
wat or where exactly is da balance between life n death? seeing things happen ard us somehow doesn't seem much of a balance...
What can I do to better serve you ?
Why do allow your children to be slaughtered by Bush/Blair/Howard/Hitler and all of the crazy warmongers of all time.
Why do "acts of God" kill so many others?
Why are there so many starving people in the world when people in other countries waste so much?
Why is there disease and hate and rascism?
Why are you letting us destroy the earth you created?
What are next weeks Mega Millions numbers?
Could you please talk some sense into your followers? they're missing your point and whipping themselves into a frenzy.
Why must we fight to solve our problems.
Why dont they believe ur Word and your Son Jesus? my heart hurts for these people?

Pretty interesting, right? So, what's your God question?

Jesus Take the Wheel

2006-03-11T07:37:00.000+08:00

I love watching the Americal Idol. Now on its fifth year, AI has captured the hearts and ears of millions of fans all across the globe. The competition gives dreamy-eyed crooners their chance of a lifetime to make it to Tinseltown Hollywood. Last year's winner was Cleveland-born country singer Carrie Underwood. She beat crowd-favorite Bo Bice in the final-two showdown. Now an established singer herself, Carrie has just released her first album entitled Some Hearts. In that album is the chart-topper for more than six weeks, Jesus Take the Wheel, which took America by surprise. Not everyone loves the song, as expected, but hey you can't deny that it's making waves across the mighty U.S. of A and abroad!

The song is truly a captivating song, heartfully rendered by the beautiful and gifted Carrie Underwood. Here is the lyrics to the song as well as the link to Carrie's personal website where selections from her album could be listened to:

Jesus Take The Wheel

She was driving last Friday on her way to Cincinnati
On a snow white Christmas Eve
Going home to see her Mama and her Daddy with the baby in the backseat
Fifty miles to go and she was running low on faith and gasoline
It would been a long hard year
She had a lot on her mind and she didn't pay attention
She was going way to fast
Before she knew it she was spinning on a thin black sheet of glass
She saw both their lives flash before her eyes
She didn't even have time to cry
She was sooo scared
She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all on my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel

It was still getting colder when she made it to the shoulder
And the car came to a stop
She cried when she saw that baby in the backseat sleeping like a rock
And for the first time in a long time
She bowed her head to pray
She said I'm sorry for the way
I've been living my life
I know I've got to change
So from now on tonight

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on

Oh, Jesus take the wheel
Oh, I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
Save me from this road I'm on
From this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel
Oh, take it, take it from me
Oh, why, oh

Carrie Underwood Official Website
____________________

When your world is spinning too fast and you are too furious like you wanna jump off from it, asking Jesus to take control of your life is the most practical thing to do.

He is heavy, He's my Brother!

2006-03-06T20:17:00.000+08:00

You may be familiar with this song:

He ain't heavy, He's my Brother

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share
And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother...

----

This song was sung by many artists (Neil Diamond, The Holies, Olivia Newton John, among others)and is very popular among Christian circles. People often say that it is easier to carry someone when he is your own brother. I'd like to offer a different take on this theme. For me, the closer you are to someone (relative, friend, community member), the heavier he is to carry. When you know someone intimately, the more it is difficult be patient, to be forgiving. When someone close to you hurts you, the hurt is twice as painful as the one inflicted by a stranger or someone you don't care about. A brother is more difficult to correct, more difficult to please.

The emotional baggage or investment is bigger or greater with a brother. The memories you shared, experiences you had together, common things done with one another--these are what makes carrying him more difficult. When he wrongs you, the weight of these things further weigh you down. You find it harder to forgive. You find it more difficult to move on. You find it more unbearable to think that he has done the unthinkable to you (of all people, you are the least I expected to do this to me).

But here is the catch. When we truly love a brother, no matter how heavy he is as a burden on our shoulders, he becomes very light when we carry him with Jesus. I am reminded of that beautiful scene in the Passion of the Christ when Joseph of Arimatea helped Jesus carry his cross. In that scene, Joseph did not carry the cross by himself. He carried it with Jesus, their shoulders touching, their eyes meeting together. That is what makes things easy to carry, when we carry it with Christ.

Giving What You Don't Have and Leading to a Place You've Never Been

2006-03-02T08:31:00.000+08:00

A Jesuit brother eloquently preached this morning about the impossiblity of "giving what we do not have and of leading people to a place where we've never been." I realize this more and more the longer I stay in religious life. People come to us for advice on many things: relationships, career path, their struggle with sin and prayer. Often, I find myself unable to respond to their needs as much as I want. I realize that if I don't pray often enough, I cannot tell them how gracious and wonderful our God is. I cannot tell them to forgive their wrongdoers when I haven't made an effort to forgive people closest to me. I cannot lead them to salvation because very often I am the one who needs direction. How can I tell others that this is the way to Heaven, when I have no idea where the hell Heaven is?

I cannot give what I don't have. I cannot lead people to where I've never been.

Yet, there are also events in my life that say that these two statements are not necessarily always true. There had been times when I felt that I had nothing more to give, nothing more to offer yet grace abounded and filled me with blessings untold. Even in my darkest despair, when I considered that I had given all and nothing was left to spare much had been pour out. Georges Bernanos' Diary of a Country Priest describes this mystery as the Grace of the Empty Hands. He says that precisely those people who had none to give, none to offer, they are the ones who give the most because it is God, acting through them, who does the real giving.

There had been occasions when I felt completely lost yet souls found direction through my own emptiness. I remember the time when I suffered a major lost several years ago. Students and teachers thanked me for "guiding them back to God." I could not claim for myself that I did these people good. I can only say that God was using me for His Divine Purpose. The Lost Son, has become a pilgrim guide to equally lost souls. A vessel, to quote Hally Berry's acceptance speech, He used so His blessings may flow.

Empty Hands. Lost Soul. These two realities are what's giving me hope that I need not worry whether I would have something to give or have answers to peoples' questions when I lead them to Christ. It is through the mystery of the Empty Hands and the Lost Pilgrim Guide, that God shows His power to perfection. My only prayer is that God would continue to take away from me anything that would make me feel secure and self-reliant so I can continue to trust that He who "taketh away, giveth anew." He that wounds, binds. He that "leads" astray, guides back home. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

-------
Thanks to Erik John for leading me to this reflection.

Ash Wednesday

2006-02-28T21:59:00.000+08:00

Today, millions of Catholics worldwide will have their foreheads blacken by ash. Some uninitiated people may think this odd. Some may even label this a 'calling attention to oneself.' Why do Catholics observe this ritual? For many it's a sign and an act of repentance. We ask the minister to put ash on our foreheads to remind us of our motal lives, our origin and our eventual destiny. From ash we were created and so to ash we shall all return.

But ash reminds us of one more important thing: that when we repent, our bodies die in sin but are resurrected in Christ. Like the ash that marks our forehead yet not forever there as it can be easily washed, our sins may mark our lives but they can be easily removed when we ask the Lord to forgive us. We die with our sins everytime we accept our faults and desire to be forgiven of them and resolve not to do them again. But we also rise again as soon as we receive God's forgiveness.

Yet Christ knows that we are humans, it's in our nature to sin. We commit the same mistakes over and over again. That's the reason why we have to ask for forgiveness over and over again. Ash Wednesday is also the first day of Lent. It ushers the triumphant entry of Jesus in Jerusalem, his passion, death and resurrection. Today, let us remember that we are sinful people and that we need God to heal us of our sinfulness. Let us make this day a special day for the Lord.

"Turn away from sin and believe in the Gospel."

Allah, the Faithful One

2006-02-23T09:18:00.000+08:00

N.B. I have always wondered how our Moslem brothers and sisters regard their God, Allah. I ask how they approach Him in their prayer. I found this poem from a Maranao website and I'm surprised at the similarity of our idea of God with their own as loving, forgiving, magnanimous and merciful God . Now, if only other Christians would realize this, I wonder how they would react. I'd like to get your idea after reading this.

LET HIS LOVE REMAIN

A Poem by Jalylah A. Mala
(Sat. 04 September 2004)

Why did you keep your burden inside you when you have Allah to tell it to? Why did you fear everyone might hate you when you have Him
who understands you?
Why did you fill your heart with pain and anguish when you have Him
to fill it with eternal bliss?
Why did you choose to settle in turbulence when there’s His pure love
that speaks of peace?

Allah never left you alone,
He was with you all along,
He was tapping your shoulder when you almost wanted to stop,
He was putting a smile on your face when you almost wanted to give up.

Allah has seen the real person in you yearning,
He was wiping your tears off when you were down crying,
He has all the answers to all your questions but you just didn’t care,
You didn’t let Him be your guide because you weren’t sure if for you,
He was there.

Open your heart,
Let Allah wash away the hurt,
Embrace the greatest love He, alone could give you,
He will never doubt you, just be true.

Allah loves what He made,
“Nobody loves me,” that’s what you said,
He wants to see you smile so never lose hope,
So now hang on to His Paradise of heaven’s rope.

Pray to Allah for He listens to all prayers,
Believe in Him alone and not the deceiving others,
Do what He says for He is your mentor,
Love Him truly and not the impostor.

So listen now and lo!
Look up and take it slow,
Walk on to the life Allah chose you to live,
Live your life with Him and you will never grieve.

When you are in a discourse with no more to tell, let Allah’s love
be your word,
When you are in a battle unarmed, let His love be your sword,
When you feel cold, let His love warm you,
When you stumble and fall, let His love catch you.

When you can no longer think, let Allah’s love quicken your memory,
When you have no more food to eat, let His love fill your tummy,
When you can no longer breathe, let His love be your air,
When you have no more to drink, let His love be your water.

When you are lost in the rain, let Allah’s love be your shade,
When you can no longer hear, let His love be your aide,
When you are lost in the dark, let His love be your light,
When you can no longer see, let His love be your sight.

When you are bruised in a fight, let Allah’s love stop your bleedings,
When you can no longer fly, let His love be your wings,
When you are wronged in an argument, let His love unleash what’s true,
When you can no longer walk, let His love carry you.

When no one understands you, let Allah’s love be searched,
When no one listens to you, let His love be heard,
When no one believes in you, let His love be seen,
When no one trusts you, let His love be serene.

When you believe nobody loves you, let Allah’s love be your confidence,
When you doubt nobody protects you, let His love be your defense,
When you feel nobody cares for you, let His love heed,
When you think nobody minds you, let His love breed.

When someone fools you, let Allah’s love make you wiser,
When someone belittles you, let His love make you greater,
When someone scorns you, let His love admire you,
When someone abandons you, let His love show you what to do.

When you are weak, let Allah’s love be your strength,
When you can no longer smile, let His love be sent,
When you are lost, let His love be your way,
When you can no longer speak, let His love tell you what to say.

When you are afraid, let Allah’s love be your protection,
When you are confused, let His love be your liberation,
When you are ill, let His love be your remedy,
When you are hurting, let His love be your therapy.

When you feel like giving up, let Allah’s love push you,
When you feel tired and fed up, let His love’s purpose pursue,
When you reach the pinnacle of your journey,
The angels of the heavens will welcome you finally.

So go on,
Walk to Allah’s throne,
Dry your eyes now and believe,
You have a beautiful life to live.

Stand up and don’t be afraid,
Walk on to where the truth is laid,
Feel the presence of Allah’s love in every air that you breathe,
Feel the might of His power in every drop of hope you grip.

Walk on to the road leading to His heavens’ grandeur,
Put your best foot forward and think not of the obscure,
Don’t go a day without his love, you will never falter,
Don’t let the devil deceive your heart, Allah shall conquer it forever.

So, smile now oh dear,
Now it’s all clear,
The Almighty Allah is forgiving,
Just let go of your hurting.

Hold on and believe in Allah’s love,
That’s the best you can have,
Please never weep again,
And in your heart, let His love remain.

Rabbi, It’s not Good to be Here! But….

2006-02-19T23:30:00.000+08:00

This is a homily I delivered to the JP community last Saturday.

Yesterday, I attended Mass at the college chapel. Atty. Jo Maribojoc of JVP was sharing her vocation story. After her sharing, an elderly Jesuit priest named Sergio Su (yes, as in seryoso!) gave a little footnote on vocation. He cautioned young people who were in that mass that many people think that vocation is a life-fulfilling career. He narrated a story of someone he knew, a man who entered the Cistercians and went out because “he did not find fulfilment there.” This man, said Fr. Su then married and begat children. Later on he felt that was not happy in the married life either and he “abandoned” his family because “he did not find fulfilment there.” This poor man, according to Fr. Su, is still looking for fulfilment. What he doesn’t know is that religious life and married life are not life-fulfilling vocations. They are life-spending vocations.

Allow me to reflect further on this theme.

There is nothing wrong in finding fulfilment in what one does. A social worker for example may find fulfilment in what she does; giving aid and providing resources to people she works with. There is indeed a fulfilling joy at having accomplished something; like a well written paper, a lecture delivered with panache or a project done with excellence. There is fulfilment too in relationships that go smoothly and have few kinks to iron out. Fulfilment is found in deeply consoling prayers, when one can almost touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak. These fulfilments bring joy but more often than not, the joys don’t last. At the end of the day the social worker may find herself burnt out due to the many demands of her work. The A student finds studying increasingly boring or the teacher may soon discover that despite his passion in teaching, his students never seem to appreciate his dedication. The same goes for friendships that take on a new and different meaning. Prayers too, no matter how lofty may bring aridity rather than consolation.

A person who insists that religious life can offer fulfilment to his needs may soon find himself exhausted, bored, unappreciated, therefore, lonely. Sooner or later, he will ask whether religious life is really cut out for him or he is just plodding through it all. Now when we begin to see our vocation as a matter of life and self-spending we also start to understand its mystery. Ignatius did not found the Society because he felt good doing so. He did not roam the streets looking for beggars and prostitutes because the task was self-fulfilling. Xavier did not frequent hospitals and spent a great deal baptizing children in far away places simply because he found joy doing so. These two Jesuits found their vocations not self-fulfilling but self-giving.

I imagine the many years that St. Ignatius spent writing letters and finishing the Constitution of the Society. I imagine him spending countless hours poring over documents and letters, straining his neck, blacking his fingers with ink stains, working in suffocating heat or freezing coldness in his room. I imagine too the many times when God seemed so distant to him when he was battling his own demons. I wonder how many times Ignatius cringed at his seat praying and consolation did not come to him.

I also wonder the distress and depression that Xavier went through during his trips to Africa and Asia. How many times had he cursed the waves of the Pacific that in several times tried to kill him. What hardships did he endure teaching little children the rudiments of faith. I imagine him waiting everyday for a piece of good news from his dear friends in Europe while he stared and counted the coconuts in Sancian. What could have Xavier done when those consoling letters never came?

Life and self-spending rather than fulfilling. This is also the theme of our Gospel today. Peter, in his classic impulsiveness blurted out to Jesus when he saw the latter transfigured into a dazzling figure, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here! Let us make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Little that Peter knew that the Son of Man was to be handed to his accusers to suffer great torture and be sentenced to die. Peter was looking for self-fulfilment. He wanted to make the most out of the rare opportunities to behold the manifestation of God’s power right before his eyes. He wanted to linger on and savour every bit of that experience. After all, not many were given that opportunity.

But Christ did not come to have a self-fulfilling mission. He had to give of himself in obedience to Father’s will. That meant giving up everything he loved on this earth: material possessions, fame and even intimate friends. Peter did not understand this. The Mount Tabor experience was, for him the zenith of apostleship. It was only later Peter learned that Christ’s full transfiguration happened not on Tabor but on Calvary where he gave his life as an ultimate act of self-spending. Christ told Peter that they must hurry down from Tabor because he still had many things to do before they take his life. And Christ was right because the real battle was not way up there on a mountain but in the plains where the lame and the blind, the sick and the lonely, the abandoned and the oppressed are.

Oftentimes I feel like Peter. I look for self-fulfilment in what I do. I continually search for that elusive joy in the mundane task and the daily grind. And how often have I been frustrated trying to do so. I keep on insisting that happiness is in doing things, and achieving great happiness is in accomplishing greater things. When these things happen I find myself praying for release from this preoccupation and for a fuller understanding of a life-spending vocation. So that like Ignatius, like Xavier, I too, can find God in all things “in insta importune et opportune” (in season and out of season). And like Peter I may learn to go down from my mountain and say, “Rabbi, it is not technically good to be here. But I will prepare three tents, one for you, one for me, and let Ignatius and Xavier share in the third one. ” (Or better yet, I will prepare three tents, one for Xavier, one for Ignatius and one for You and me and let Peter, James and John patrol the neighborhood for wolves and intruders. =) )

Weng Bava, SJ
February 18, 2006
JP Chapel

Greatest Lover in the World

2006-02-15T21:19:00.000+08:00

When I was in college I read one of Johnny Hart's panels showing two ants (apparently a pair) talking atop a wall. This is how their conversation goes:

Girl ant: "Honey, do you love me?"
Boy ant: "Yeah, of course."
Girl ant: "Do you love me enough to die for me?"
Boy ant: "Yeah, why not?"
Girl ant: "Do you love me enough to die for me even if I weren't even born yet?"
Boy ant: "Isn't that asking too much from a guy?"
Girl ant: "I don't know, I just know someone who does."

Then the last panel shows that they are actually perched on a cross. (Oh, how I wish I could have that comic strip and post it here!)

That very simple comic strip says a lot of what I want to say here: there is an actual person who can love us more than what we can imagine. There is someone who can go the distance of loving us, to death, even if we aren't born yet. Now isn't that something to be grateful for?

My Fish Stink, Lord! And my Bread is Soggy

2006-02-11T22:25:00.000+08:00

Have you ever had days when nothing you did seemed right? Like one really bad event which led to something worse and turned really really worst. Yesterday was a classic day for me. First I lost two articles that had just been given to me by my friends. The first one was a black jacket that I had just left in our dining room. I know I am clumsy with my things but I did not expect that someone would actually take interest in a second hand jacket. I also left a new umbrella at the university (that was my 8th!). Two of my appointments were canceled. The web designer I was talking with couldn't get things done according to what we have agreed upon. Then I had a misunderstanding with someone who lives close to me. And on and on and on, like a long list of soiled laundry. These things can sometimes make me wish that I had stayed in bed all day.

Today's Gospel talks about Jesus multiplying fish and bread. A fellow scholastic preached about giving to God even the littlest that we have so He can make big things out of them. I'm wondering what would God do to my little "fishes" that stink. Will He multiply my mistakes? Increase the number of my short-comings? Increase my woes? Give me a string of fiascoes after one blunder?

St. Ignatius, our patron saint, teaches us to review our days before we retire to bed. From our experiences, we dialogue with Christ how our day fared. We give Him thanks for the blessings He gave us. We are to feel sorry for offending Him or for turning His invitation down to a fuller communion with Him. We also ask Him to give us courage and determination and strength to carry on even if we don't see the significance of the trials that come our way.

Though it may be embarrasing to give it to the Lord, I guess my fish still counts, no matter how stinky it may be. After all, Jesus likes stinky people.

The Sacrament of Waiting

2006-02-09T07:31:00.000+08:00

by Fr. James Donelan, S.J.

The English poet John Milton once wrote that those who serve stand and wait. I think I would go further and say that those who wait render the highest form of service. Waiting requires more discipline, more self-control and emotional maturity, more unshakeable faith in our cause, more unwavering hope in the future, more sustaining love in our hearts than all the great deeds of derring-do that go by the name of action.

Waiting is a mystery—a natural sacrament of life. There is a meaning hidden in all the times we have to wait. It must be an important mystery because there is so much waiting in our lives.

Everyday is filled with those little moments of waiting—testing our patience and our nerves, schooling us in our self-control—pasensya na lang. We wait for meals to be served, for a letter to arrive, for a friend, concerts and circuses. Our airline terminals, railway stations, and bus depots are temples of waiting filled with men and women who wait in joy for the arrival of a loved one—or wait in sadness to say goodbye and to give that last wave of hand. We wait for birthdays and vacations; we wait for Christmas. We wait for spring to come or autumn—for the rains to begin or stop.

And we wait for ourselves to grow from childhood to maturity. We wait for those inner voices that tell us when we are ready for the next step. We wait for graduation, for our first job, our first promotion. We wait for success, and recognition. We wait to grow up—to reach the stage where we make our own decision.

We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is part of the tapestry of living—the fabric in which the threads are woven that tell the story of our lives.

Yet the current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait. “Grab all the gusto you can get.” So reads one of America’s great beer advertisements—Get it now. Instant pleasure—instant transcendence. Don’t wait for anything. Life is short—eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you’ll die. And so they rationalize us into accepting unlicensed and irresponsible freedom—premarital sex and extramarital affairs—they warn against attachment and commitment, against expecting anything of anybody, or allowing them to expect anything of us, against vows and promises, against duty and responsibility, against dropping any anchors in the currents of our life that will cause us to hold and to wait.

This may be the correct prescription for pleasure—but even that is fleeting and doubtful. What was it Shakespeare said about the mad pursuit of pleasure? “Past reason hunted, and once had, past reason hated.” Now if we wish to be real human beings, spirit as well as flesh, souls as well as heart, we have to learn to love someone else other than ourselves.

For most of all waiting means waiting for someone else. It is a mystery brushing by our face everyday like stray wind or a leaf falling from a tree. Anyone who has ever loved knows how much waiting goes into it, how much waiting is important for love to grow, to flourish through a lifetime.

Why is this so? Why can’t we have love right now—two years, three years, five years—and seemingly waste so much time? You might as well ask why a tree should take so long to bear fruit, the seed to flower, carbon to change into a diamond.

There is no simple answer, no more than there is to life’s demands: having to say goodbye to someone you love because either you or they have already made other commitments, or because they have to grow and find the meaning of their own lives, having yourself to leave home and loved ones to find your path. Goodbyes, like waiting, are also sacraments of our lives.

All we know is that growth—the budding, the flowering of love needs patient waiting. We have to give each other time to grow. There is no way we can make someone else truly love us or we love them, except through time. So we give each other that mysterious gift of waiting—of being present without making demands or asking rewards. There is nothing harder to do than this. It tests the depth and sincerity of our love. But there is life in the gift we give.

So lovers wait for each other until they can see things the same way, or let each other freely see things in quite different ways. What do we lose when lovers hurt each other and cannot regain the balance and intimacy of the way they were? They have to wait—in silence—but still be present to each other until the pain subsides to an ache and then only a memory, and the threads of the tapestry can be woven together again in a single love story.

What do we lose when we refuse to wait? When we try to find short cuts through life, when we try to incubate love and rush blindly and foolishly into a commitment we are neither mature nor responsible enough to assume? We lose the hope of ever truly loving or being loved. Think of all the great love stories of history and literature. Isn’t it of their very essence that they are filled with the strange but common mystery—that waiting is part of the substance, the basic fabric—against which the story of that true love is written?

How can we ever find either life of love if we are too impatient to wait for it?

n.b. I "stole" this post from a fellow Jesuit's site. I know he won't mind.

A Brother's Keeper's Prayer

2006-02-07T23:05:00.000+08:00

Lord,

I know I'm not perfect
And I appreciate the fact
That you don't want me to be one
You are just happy that I'm human
With all my faults and my weaknesses

But you won't tolerate my excesses
And short-comings
As much as possible
You want me holy
Despite my tendencies to sin and err

There are times when I feel that
I have done enough
But you still ask me to give more
To understand more
To forgive more
To sacrifice a little bit more

But sometimes I feel I want to give up
Sometimes I feel that you are asking
Too much and too many
And that you are difficult to please
And would take no for an answer

When I feel this, grant me courage
To go on, to continue loving
To continue giving the best I have
And being the best that I can be
Let me not be disheartened when things
Don't go my way or when events seem
To prove the otherwise

Make me more and more attuned
To the promptings of your Spirit
Teach me patience
Teach me endurance
Teach me serenity
In short, teach me to be
My brother's keeper.

Because most of the time,
I'm the one who need's keeping.

Amen

In the Father's Hands

2006-01-31T21:11:00.000+08:00

When I was a Jesuit novice I saw a most touching scene in a hospital that made me realize one important thing about God the Father. In the pedia ward of the Philippine General Hospital, a father and son caught my attention. The son, about 7 or 8 years old, was gasping for breath. The deep and sudden rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was in pain and great difficulty. The father was helping him breathe through the use of an Ambo bag as there was no available respirator for the son. The father was a picture of serenity and assurance.

With every gasp, the father would pump air into his son's lungs, thereby assuring his son's breathing. Any person knew that it was not enough to do that but at that time, the father was the only thing that was keeping the son alive. Yet I saw no panic nor heard any complaints from the father. He would just quietly pump oxygen into his son's mouth. From time to time, he would pause to wipe the sweat from his brow and his son's forehead. Then he would bend down to kiss his son's cheeks or utter words of encouragement to him (though I had know way of knowing for sure what he really said).

I never knew what happened to the son, whether he survived or not. I never learned what happened to the father either but one thing I knew was that the Father showed his son the best act of love that he could do. His son needed him by his side, and he was there. He never left the son during the time that he needed him most. He didn't mind the exhaustion of having to pump oxygen into his son's mouth again and again even though he wasn't sure whether his son would survive. At that moment, only one thing was in his mind: I have to be with my son because he needs me.

Whenever I reflect on this scene I could not help but cry. I know that God is exactly like that untiring father in the pedia ward: He never leaves our side especially when we are in great pain or loss. The son in the hospital might not even know that his father was by his side during his most difficult times. But his father was there nonetheless, like our own Father in Heaven. There have been many times (I'm sure you and I have) when we think that we have been abandoned or rejected by God the Father. Sometimes, all things seem to convince us that He has left us, but He is there. Always. If a father here on earth could show much love to his suffering son, how much more will our Father in Heaven show His love for us? God the Father will never forsake us or leave us. He is with us all the time. Only we have to believe in this so that we can feel His wonderful love for all of us...


: Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name; your walls are ever before me. Isaiah 49:15-15

The Need to Pray

2006-01-19T22:45:00.000+08:00

I miss my friends at the Cistercian Monastery in the island of Guimaras (in the province of Panay, Philippines). They are about 10 to 12 monks whose mission in life is to pray and work. They start their day at 3 am to pray together as a community. I had an opportunity to join them in some occasions. It was truly a marvelous experience. It seemed that everything stopped inside their chapel--no wind, no howling of dogs or noise in the street. Even Time seemed to be respecting the monks' time. You can almost hear monks' cassocks brushing against the cold pavement of the chapel.

These monks have the most peaceful faces I have ever seen. It is as if they are in perpetual trance in contemplating something Beautiful. Their manner of speech is gentle and unhurried. Even their actions are deliberately slow. And they are a happy group. Once every end of the month, I went there when I was still teaching in Iloilo and I would feel refreshed at the end of my stay.

Prayer is such a luxury these days. A lot of people I have encountered have expressed genuine desire to pray, not in the hurried and formulaic way but in quality-time kind of prayer. They just lack time, they invariably say. Someone said that if you find it difficult to find time to pray, then you are really not giving yourself time to pray. Another one said that it's a waste of time to pray. I know of someone who says that prayer actually saves time. By praying at the beginning of the day you can begin discussing with God things that concern you. Then you can identify which of these are really important, that is, will deepen your relationship with Him and with others.

I wish I can visit my friends again. =)

In His Time (He Makes All Things Beautiful)

2006-01-15T20:36:00.000+08:00

A fellow scholastic's niece, Bea, gave me an unexpected gift last Christmas. It was a picture of the Crucifixion encased in a gilded glass frame. It's very ordinary. Nothing remarkable about it except that it has an analog clock inside. I haven't put battery on it so I can't say whether the clock will work. I kept it on my bedside table for several days. It was only this morning when I picked it up again that a flash of intuition, a sudden insight hit me like a lightning bolt. Then I heard a song I used to sing when things don't seem to go according to plan.

In His time, He makes all things beautiful
In His time, He makes all things beautiful
Lord, please show me everyday
That You'll do just what You say
In Your time, in Your time You make all things beautiful
In Your time, In Your time

I'm not sure whether I got the lyrics right but I sure got the message.
God is not only God of Time but also Timing. When it seems that nothing is going right or things take infinitely long to take shape according to my wishes and desires, then maybe I have not allowed Him to be God of Time. I make plans, they are often thwarted by things beyond my control. I build things, only to see them destroyed. I struggle to keep something from falling apart to later on see it crumbling before my very eyes.

So my fervent wish is to remember, remember that He is the God of Time and in due season He shall restore things to their proper places. He shall make all things beautiful, in His time. May I not be blind in appreciating that in the seemingly impossible, God makes miracles.

The Road Without End

2006-01-09T00:52:00.000+08:00

Take a look at this picture. What do you see? Is it the end of the road or the end of a long journey? Is the traveller on his way home or on to a new home? Are those clouds sinister or hopeful? What feelings are evoked in you as you look closely at this picture?

This new year is a perfect occasion to go back to your life and see where you're going, how many friends have you met along the way, what places you've been to, what memories do you cherish and which people have journeyed with you.

Something to Think About

2006-01-06T21:31:00.000+08:00

1. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.

2. Dear God, I have a problem, it's me.

3. Growing old is inevitable . growing UP is optional.

4. There is no key to happiness. The door is always open.

5. Silence is often misinterpreted but never misquoted.

6. Do the math. count your blessings.

7. Faith is the ability to not panic.

8. Laugh every day, it's like inner jogging.

9. If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray, don't worry.

10. As a child of God, prayer is kind of like calling home everyday.

11. Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape.

12. The most important things in your house are the people.

13. When we get tangled up in our problems, be still.

God wants us to be still so He can untangle the knot.

14. A grudge is a heavy thing to carry.

15. He who dies with the most toys is still dead.

Prayer for a New Year

2006-01-05T22:52:00.000+08:00

May you get a clean bill of health from your dentist, your cardiologist, your gastro-enterologist, your urologist, your proctologist, your podiatrist, your psychiatrist, your plumber and the I.R.S.

May your hair, your teeth, your face-lift, your abs and your stocks not fall; and may your blood pressure, your triglycerides, your cholesterol, your white blood count and your mortgage interest not rise.

May New Year's Eve find you seated around the table, together with your beloved family and cherished friends. May you find the food better, the environment quieter, the cost much cheaper, and the pleasure much more fulfilling than anything else you might ordinarily do that night.

May what you see in the mirror delight you, and what others see in you delight them. May someone love you enough to forgive your faults, be blind to your blemishes, and tell the world about your virtues.

May the telemarketers wait to make their sales calls until you finish dinner, may the commercials on TV not be louder than the program you have been watching, and may your check book and your budget balance - and include generous amounts for charity.

May you remember to say "I love you" at least once a day to your spouse, your child, your parent, your siblings; but not to your secretary, your nurse, your masseuse, your hairdresser or your tennis instructor.

And may we live in a world at peace and with the awareness of God's love in every sunset, every flower's unfolding petals, every baby's smile, every lover's kiss, and every wonderful, astonishing, miraculous beat of our heart.

~Extracts from a Prayer by Rabbi Jacob Pressman~

Cleaning My Room, Freeing My Soul

2006-01-03T00:29:00.000+08:00

I cleaned my room this morning, just in time for the New Year. While taking out trash from my cabinets, wardrobe and study desk I found things which I no longer needed. There were headache tablets and pain capsules that were hidden behind a pile of paper in my desk. I noticed that most of them had expired a few months ago. I saw some of the pictures I considered lost tucked between a book that I had not finished reading. There were receipts of all sorts tacked on my cork board. I found two message slips bearing a message to return call to a friend. I remember not making that call. There were toys and stickers that were saved some months ago which I forgot to give away last Christmas. A Christmas card given to me last year went unanswered.

I also cleaned my glass windows of dust and grime. I realized that clean windows provide a much better view of the outside world and ushers fresh air into my room. I emptied my soap dish of melted soap. I threw away plastic bags and gift wrappers and used paper. I scrubbed the floor and found some coins nestled on a corner spot. I arranged my books and noticed that some of them I have not even opened.

Cleaning a room can be a spiritual experience. It mirrors cleaning an inner part of you that houses your soul. As I look back at the year that has been I notice things that used to cure me of many pains and ailments but when I insist on using them now might poison and kill me. I remember people who were there during my most troublesome times yet I have not even acknowledged their presence or thanked them. I also see things that preoccupied me which were not really that important. I remember places I visited and people I've encountered that gave me joy and sometimes deep sadness. I remember people who needed my help which I promptly ignored because I was too busy with something else. I remember occasions wherein I held back on giving joy to others or failed to allow myself to enjoy the present because I had been so worried by countless trivial matters. I see things more clearly now that my soul can roam freely unencumbered by many concerns.

I wish that this New Year will give me a new reason to continue to hope, to love, to give, to sacrifice.

New Year, New Beginning

2006-01-01T21:31:00.000+08:00

As I begin the new year, I look back at the year that has been and ask the following questions:

1) What have been my sources of consolations last year?
2) What made me most happy?
3) What made me cry and sad?
4) Which persons figured prominently in my life? And why?
5) What events made me grateful to God and to others?
6) Which experiences are most hurting for me?
7) Which experiences are most healing?
8) How many persons have I touched and introduced to Christ?
9) How many people have I hurt, intentionally and unintentionally?
10) Which people said that I was a blessing to them?
11) Which people said that I had made their lives more difficult?
12) How did Christ figure in my life last year?
13) How have I been more loving, more giving, more self-sacrificing?
14) What areas in my life need further growth and healing?
15) What triumphs must I celebrate this year?
16) What defeats must I go back to, analyze and learn from?
17) If there's one thing that I'd like to change, improve in myself, what would it be?
18) How would I like to remember this present year next year?

Promises to Keep

2006-01-01T03:13:00.000+08:00

I know that I have not been good at keeping New Year's resolutions. I'm writing a new list anyway, hoping that I might be able to fulfill two or three of them.

1) Go back to the gym and include swimming in the routine.
2) Read the 100 books I will be winning in Powerbooks raffle promo, in a year.
3) Finish two short-stories for a local literary contest.
4) Compose 20 poems.
5) Submit my thesis on time.
6) Intensify my prayer life.
7) Go out with friends more often.
8) Take time to visit family.
9) Clean my room on a regular basis.
10) Revive my interest in gardening.

Losing My Voice

2005-12-30T22:11:00.000+08:00

On Christmas day I lost my voice. For two days I have not been able to communicate properly and with ease. I got a nasty pain in my throat which hurt everytime I tried to speak or cough. As a result I had a very quiet Christmas. I wasn't able to shout or comment on anything. I merely listened to conversations. And though I wanted to express an opinion or two, the nasty swelling in my throat prevented me from speaking.

I reserved my yeahs and nays to the most important questions of the day. I suppressed an irrepressible desire to laugh or joke about a funny incident or person. Oh, what a day! But this annoying experience has given me a rare insight into what I might be missing in life: the ability to focus my attention to what's being said without saying anything in return. I have been so used to speaking out loud. I am vocal with my complaints. I sometimes voice out criticisms and strong opinions with little regard to those who hear them.

The two days of quiet have given me an opportunity to hear and listen, to take everything in, to reserve my comments and to tailor my words to the necessary and the called for. I guess the incident is God's way of telling me to shut up because He has a very important thing to say. I just wish that I might give Him not only my two ears but my heart as well.

Watering Down the "Christ" at Christmas

2005-12-25T20:55:00.000+08:00

A priest friend remarked in his homily how these days people do not pretend that Christ is no longer the center of Christmas. Many people from all walks of life do not bemoan the fact that Christ has become a sort of extra, a cameo role in what is supposed to be His Story. In trying to be "sensitive" or politically correct, folks don't say Merry Christmas anymore for fear of offending non-Christians or non-practicing Christians. Instead they greet one another "Happy Holidays," or "Enjoy the Yuletide Season!"

Christmas parties have become year-end parties. Christmas exchange gifts are called simply exchange gifts. In a world increasingly becoming secularized, a world caught in the material trappings of a Godless society, what do real Christians ought to do? I say, we insist on emphasizing Christ on Christmas. Let us refuse in reducing the Christ into the abbreviated term X (Xmas for Christmas). Let us continue sending cards with messages of love that speak of the world's first Great Love: that God the Father sent He Son to us and lived amongst us.

Come to think of it, early Christians had to go in hiding when they were celebrating Christmas. Pagans and people of other faiths later on owned the Christmas celebration. Perhaps, it's now time to get back from the secular world the true meaning and spirit of Christmas. It is time that we really have Christ during Christmas.

The Giver not the Gift

2005-12-22T23:10:00.000+08:00

I have always been uneasy with exchange gifts that require people to put a minimum amount to what they should give. While there is an intention that no one should be short-changed or receive less than what he expected, there is a prevailing notion here that "I give this much, so why should I get less?" It is as if the primary reason for giving gifts is to receive something in return. And that something should better be nothing less than what one has given. All is fair and everybody happy. Far from it!

A gift is something that is freely given. And since it is given freely, the giver should not expect anything in return. The receiver of the gift, on the other hand, has no obligation whatsoever to "pay back" the gift she has received. If gift-giving was merely a give and take thing, then we should not bother giving gifts at all. We give gifts precisely because we want the one who receives our gift to be happy. Our happiness does not consist of receiving in return.

God is the perfect example of a great Giver. He gave His only begotten Son not really expecting us to love Him in return or to show our gratitude towards His free Gift. He gave Jesus to us precisely because He loved us so and He wanted to make us happy. Whether we give something to Him in return or not, does not in any way diminish or increase His love for us. God gave without expecting something in return. After all how can the One who has everything ask for more?

For this Christmas we are invited to relish not only the gifts that we receive but the giver as well. And not to forget too, the Giver of the givers.

And Worse, No Baby Jesus!

2005-12-21T23:52:00.000+08:00

The Chinese novices decided to go home early because the day was long and we were all tired. We just had two sets of Christmas parties: one for the parish kids and the other, for parish staff and volunteers. In between these two we had home visits. We, Filipino novices, since we had host families in the apostolate area, decided to stay for a few more hours.

Our Chinese brothers arrived home very exhausted and famished. They went straight to the refectory to partake of their Christmas meal. They found out that our kitchen staff went home to their respective families to celebrate the Christmas eve. While we were feasting with our host families, the Chinese brothers cooked instant noodles to satisfy their hunger and before getting a much needed rest. Having eaten they went up to our chapel to pray.

They decided to spend a few minutes to venerate the Baby Jesus in the creche inside the chapel. To their dismay, they found Him missing! A Chinese novice put it poignantly: "We were so hungry. It was cold and dark and quiet here. While in the neighboring houses in the subdivision they were so happy and noisy. And worse, we have no Baby Jesus!"

Because of our impatience to rush to our Christmas parties we have forgotten to place the Baby Jesus in his crib as we would traditionally on the eve of Christmas. From this sharing we can learn a very simple truth: without Jesus, no matter how many gifts we give or receive, no matter how much we eat, no matter now loud we greet each other, no matter how many lights we put around our house and no matter how warm we embrace each other, our Christmases will be quiet and dark and cold.

The Stupid Sparrow

2005-12-21T09:02:00.000+08:00

I was taking a nap in our house one afternoon. I distinctly heard it: mad flapping of wings followed by loud thuds against the glass windowpanes. I went to the living room and saw a poor sparrow desperately trying to get out of the house. It was very insistent to flew right through the glass windows. But everytime it tried to fly against the glass, it would be met by the harsh and cold glass windows.

I opened the door for the poor stupid bird and kept on shooing it out. But it got frightened and flew again and again towards the closed window. In a few seconds, it dropped to the floor. I held it in my hand, blood oozing from its head. It quivered and died in my arms. I felt sorry for the bird.

The sparrow gave me a lesson I won't forget. We, sometimes, are as stupid as it was. We keep on insisting that the only way is through a window, attractive but closed. We stay away from the open door and keep banging our heads against what we think was the only exit. Someone comes to help us but we fly away from him/her. We get scared, suspicious, panicky. We become proud that we don't need help. We fly against the closed window once more, in a last ditch effort to escape. We hurt. We die. We hurt people close to us. They too, die. And it may be too late for us to realize, that the door might be not only the only way but the best as well.

Joyeux Noël

2005-12-17T10:38:00.000+08:00

(aka Merry Christmas)

Beguiling in its simplicity yet profoundly moving and honest in its portrayal of the human side of war, Joyeux Noël, is a movie that must be seen by people of all nations and faiths. Wars haves so ravaged us and have made us so cynical about the nature of men as killing machines that we sometimes tend to forget that soldiers, though they may belong to an enemy state, are humans too.

Set during the First World War somewhere between the borders of France and Germany, French, German and Scottish soldiers discovered for themselves the absurdity of war. In just one Christmas night of fellowship and truce they had learned more than they could in their lifetime: the meaning of brotherhood that binds all men and women. When the German tenor Nikolaus Sprink (Benno Fürmann) sang for his troops to lift their spirits up, little did he know that he would start a spontaneous reaction with the opposing camps.

As soon as the Scots heard his beautiful and heart-rending rendition of Silent Night, they joined him with their bagpipe instruments. A little later the French joined the fraternal exchange of singing and they crossed the no man's land to exchange their champagne with chocolates from their enemies. Captains of the three regiments declared the night a night of peace and soldiers of the three camps rejoiced and celebrated Christmas as if they were at home with their own brothers.

Filled with poignant scenes of the anxious and bitter separation of parents with their children, brothers with brothers and of lovers, Joyeux Noel managed not to pander on over-sentimentality. It has touches of light humor and beams with hope and optimism. Towards the end of Christmas night, Fr. Palmer (Gary Lewis) celebrated Mass for all of them. It was very moving to see and hear the battle-scarred and war-hardened soldiers forget their native languages and responded in Latin.

Equally noteworthy in the movie is Ana Sorensen's (Diane Krüger) portrayal of the faithful girlfriend to Sprink. Her haunting voice (I don't know it it is really hers) lent a chilling background to the already freezing temperature of the battlefield.

Joyeux Noël brings home the true message of Christmas: that we can see through the barriers of skin color, nationality and religion if we take to heart the meaning of being all sons and daughters of one God.

Adeste Fideles

2005-12-16T19:39:00.000+08:00

Adeste Fideles. O come all you faithful.

This song invites us to temporarily drop everything we are doing or are busy with and gather around the newborn Babe. It asks us to come and rest awhile and set aside all our worries and concerns.

We may not have the riches or power like the Wise Men had but we are also invited to be witnesses once more to the most magnificent and wonderful event in the history of mankind. We may not have gold, frankincense or myrrh in our hands to give to the Baby Jesus but we have wealth greater than these.

All our labors, our trials and sufferings, if they are offered to Him become the greatest treasure we can offer. By the glint of our works, the aroma of our toils and the sweet scent of our collective sacrifices we are giving Christ a treasure worth much more than the whole universe.

So come and adore Him. Come whatever we are doing. Come whoever we are. Come if we are sad or tired or sickened with life. But come escpecially if we are joyful and grateful that we have been blessed with a God who unselfishly gave His own Son to redeem us.

Let us behold, Christ the Lord!

Light of A Million Mornings

2005-12-15T07:52:00.000+08:00

I was a first year novice when I first heard this song and I have to admit that I fell instantly in love with its melody and music. The song speaks about the wonderful and often mysterious ways God touches our lives especially when we find ourselves alone and embattled with our many problems. We may not realize it but He brings not only light into our darkened worlds but He takes us to the Light Himself so we may cease groping in the dark.

i couldnt see the sunshine through the shadows
i couldnt seem to find a soul to care
and in my darkest hour
you touch me with your power
and when i looked your light
was everywhere

refrain:
the light of the million mornings filled my heart
the sound of a million angels sung my song
the warmth of a love so tender
touched my life and suddenly
the light of a million morning starts in me

i never tried to understand the sunrise
i know it takes away the dark
i cant explain your healing or all the joy im feeling
i only know you've come in to my heart

(repeat refrain)

bridge:
and now that your glory
has come shining through
let my life be a candle, Lord
that shines for you,
shines for you
shines for you...

The Dark Night

2005-12-14T07:39:00.000+08:00

1. One dark night,
fired with love's urgent longings
- ah, the sheer grace! -
I went out unseen,
my house being now all stilled.

2. In darkness, and secure,
by the secret ladder, disguised,
- ah, the sheer grace! -
in darkness and concealment,
my house being now all stilled.

3. On that glad night
in secret, for no one saw me,
nor did I look at anything
with no other light or guide
than the one that burned in my heart.

4. This guided me
more surely than the light of noon
to where he was awaiting me
- him I knew so well -
there in a place where no one appeared.

5. O guiding night!
O night more lovely than the dawn!
O night that has united
the Lover with his beloved,
transforming the beloved in her Lover.

6. Upon my flowering breast,
which I kept wholly for him alone,
there he lay sleeping,
and I caressing him
there in a breeze from the fanning cedars.

7. When the breeze blew from the turret,
as I parted his hair,
it wounded my neck
with its gentle hand,
suspending all my senses.

8. I abandoned and forgot myself,
laying my face on my Beloved;
all things ceased; I went out from myself,
leaving my cares
forgotten among the lilies.

This beautifully written poem by St. John of the Cross caused quite a stir in the Church when it was first published. Unabashedly sensual, the poem captures a man's longing to be with His beloved. It portrays how the persona would do anything just to be with Him anb be consumed by His passion and burning love.

The accompanying painting is entitled Dark Night of the Soul; created by Ana Pacheco, an Associate Artist at the National Gallery, London.

Words of Wisdom for Growing Up and Letting Go

2005-12-12T23:39:00.000+08:00

I stumbled upon this from a fellow pilgrim's site. I believe she won't mind me "stealing" this from her blog my path on this thing called life. To my experience, 99% of what it says here is true.

I Believe:

I believe- That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I believe- That no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and, you must forgive them for that.

I believe- That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.

I believe- That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I believe- That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I believe- That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

I believe- That you can keep going long after you can't.

I believe- That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I believe- That either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I believe- That regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.

I believe- That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

I believe- That money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I believe- That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

I believe- That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down, will be the ones to help you get back up.

I believe- That sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

I believe- That just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.

I believe- That maturity has more to do with what type of experiences you've had and what you have learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays have passed.

I believe- That it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others. Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

I believe- That no matter how bad your heart is broken the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I believe- That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

I believe- That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other, And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

I believe- That you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.

I believe- That two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

I believe- That your life can be changed in a very short time by people who don't even know you.

I believe- That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you - you will find the strength to help.

I believe- That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

I believe- That the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

What Gift?

2005-12-11T18:35:00.000+08:00

When you go to the malls today you will see people busy choosing, buying and wrapping gifts for their friends and families. Many of them complain about the high prices of gifts or the difficulty of finding a suitable present for their loved ones. Magazines and internet sites have found enticing ways to introduce products that hopefully would make people buy. And discount shops seem to provide the best option.

You can go inside a supermarket and forage for Christmas items for hours and still come home unsatisfied with what you buy. This shows that we really exert efforts to make people we love like the things that we give them. Will Bob like this sweater I bought for him? Will Mary appreciate this pair of gloves I saw at the market? Will Dad find use for this set of repair tools?

It's okay to spend money to make people we love happy especially this Christmas season, the season of giving and receiving. Even the Wise Men were dumbfounded as to what gift was appropriate to the Child-God. However, we sometimes forget that it's not the gift, no matter how big or beautifully wrapped, that makes Christmas truly wonderful. We tend to think that if we bought the big, the more and the new, we are truly giving our loved ones what they need.

This Christmas, I'm thinking of finding creative means to express my love to my friends and family. Probably I'll start by remembering all of them in my prayers. By thanking God that I have them as friends and family members. Then I'll tell them how important they are to me and how blessed my life has been because of them.

And then maybe, the gifts can come later.

Message of Hope?

2005-12-06T07:34:00.000+08:00

(Or Hope in the Message)

This season television ads will cash in on the message of hope. Priests and ministers will propound on the theme of hope. Greeting cards will banner messages bearing and bringing hope. Hope then becomes a commodity, a surplus value that needs to be peddled to cash-strapped, lonely individuals roaming the planet like ghosts.

But what we keep on forgetting is that hope is in the message itself: That the Son of Man has come to redeem for His Father all those who are lost and have gone astray.

Awake! Be Alert!

2005-11-29T06:49:00.000+08:00

When the season of Advent comes we often hear from the Gospel readings the summon "Be awake! Be Alert! The Kingdom is coming!" This often brings anxiety to those who think that the Kingdom of God will sweep over the metropolis and anyone it finds asleep or not doing good will suffer dire consequences. Far from it. The message of the Gospel is not the message of fear but a message of joy and anticipation.

Jesus' message of salvation and hope will not be the message of Wallstreet or apocalyptic-themed Hollywood movies. It is a message that everyone longs to hear: "Every tear shall be wiped away...There will be no more death..." So what should our attitude be towards this message? One of calm and serenity, of peace and joy. And therefore, the "Awake! Be Alert!" call is not so much a summon to be on guard for something ominous that is coming but rather an invitation to an awareness that the goodness of God is happening as it is being proclaimed.

Ignatius as the Man of La Mancha

2005-11-27T09:04:00.000+08:00

Last night, I watched Repertory Philippines' production of The Man of La Mancha. I must say that the musical was impressive--from the costumes, the set, the voices to the acting and the production design--a true work of art.

What moved me in the musical was the uncanny similarity of Don Quixote and his pipe dreams and Ignacio de Loyola and his passion. Both were called mad during their times. Don Quixote battled imaginary giants and invincible foes while Ignacio fought his own devils and demons tormenting him and making his heart captive.

Both of them left their earhtly treasures to pursue their respective ladies. Don Quixote, his Dulcinea; Ignacio, his Madonna della Strada. Both were knights in their own rights. Both loved starring at the starry sky, their eyes fired by vision from within. Both had brushes with the Inquisition. Both dreamt of impossible dreams, bore unbearable sorrows and ran where the brave dared not go.

But one thing differentiates the two: Don Quixote's was a personal quest--probably not for personal glory but nevertheless it was motivated by his personal love for Dulcinea--while Ignacio was pursuing an even madder dream--to conquer souls for God. Ignacio, unlike Quixote, did not "strive with his last ounce of courage to reach the unreachable stars" but left everything to the will of God. He surrendered his dreams and visions and hopes as a final act of submission and humility to the God who called him to form the Society of Jesus, a ragtag army of delusional and sinful men, whose only claim was that they too were loved by God.

And so, the dream lives on...

Don Quixote's oration could very well speak of and for the Society of Jesus:

When life itself seems lunatic, who knows where madness lies? Perhaps to be too practical may be madness. To surrender dreams, this may be madness. To seek treasures where there is only trash...Too much sanity may be madness, and maddest of all is to see life as it is and not as it should be.

Miguel De Cervantes, Don Quixote de la Mancha
Spanish adventurer, author, & poet (1547 - 1616)

You Really Love Me, Don't You?

2005-11-22T06:49:00.000+08:00

I have lived a good 17 years of my life in a town where storm rages like hell. In one year we can have as many as 20 typhoons, four of them would be super typhoons of 120-160 kph wind velocity. I have seen whole houses uprooted from the ground, roofs flown several meters away and floods reaching up to 8 ft. in height. There were times when we celebrated the whole Christmas season when our houses were submerged in water. Only makeshift wooden bridges connected our home from our neighbor's and out into the municipal road.

How did we survive? By sheer imagination.

We learned how to fish in the flood water. My father devised a way how to trap huge shrimps (they are almost prawn-like) from the canal that ran parallel to our house. He sold many of them and gave away some to the delight of our neighbors. They never learned where he got them.

Washing clothes proved a great problem to my mother but her domestic ingenuity triumphed. We still had fresh clothes on our backs despite the balmy season of rain and flood. Cooking and washing dishes were the same as when we still had land to step on. Except during those times, we had to conserve water, the most precious commodity, next to air.

We went to school as usual. We sometimes took a dip into the flood water. That was where I got amoebiasis, I think. But we survived, anyhow. By sheer imagination.

But something stronger than the storms kept us sane. It was the firm belief that God is stronger than all the forces of nature. He is more powerful than the most fearsome and fiercest
destruction we see all around. God Himself is our refuge. He never leaves us, in the most difficult times in our lives.

I look back at my life and see thousands of storms that hit me, directly and indirectly. Somehow, after twenty seven years of being buffeted by wind and water, I'm still standing. Yes, by sheer imagination. By luck. But most of all, by the love of God, who strengthens me.

Climbing Out of the Bottomless Pit

2005-11-10T10:30:00.000+08:00

Some people really mystify me. There is a priest in the community where I live who's been suffering from an acute form of clinical depression. The first time I met him he was still a jolly and convivial person. He even accompanied me to a dentist to have a tooth root-canalled. A few months after, he became silent and withdrawn. His movements at dinner table showed that he was not his usual self. His head was always bowed and his shoulders stooped in an awkward angle. He refused to talk to anyone, or rather, he lost the zest of talking.

He is now often seen at the chapel praying and in deep communion with the Beyond. But one amazing thing about this priest is his unselfish attitude towards those who are less equipped to help themselves. Despite suffering depression, whose depth no one, not even psychologists can fathom, this priest does little acts of kindness to other infirm Jesuits. He never complains. He reads books to a bed-ridden elderly priest who cannot talk on the account of the tube inserted in his throat. He volunteers to push for another priest his wheelchair so they can both travel around the house. He plays harmonica to another father who is suffering from Alzheimer's. From time to time, he tries to engage in conversation with the younger Jesuits. He is a source of inspiration to all.

Persons like him make a community holy. He embodies suffering with love and in love. He recognizes that he is not the only one inside a bottomless pit. Others are in it too. He does not wallow in his pains. Instead, he helps others to get out of their own pits. And by doing so, finds his way out.

Christ did not promise to take us out of our bottomless pits. But he vowed that He will be with us, every moment of it, until we too, find our way out.

Be a Saint: Why Not?

2005-11-07T09:30:00.000+08:00

Believe it or not when I was kid I wanted to be a saint. Back then my understanding of saints were people who had mystical and magical powers. I was fascinated by stories of extraordinary Christians who performed miraculous deeds. St. Martin de Porres topped my list of admirable saints. I imagined him levitating in an empty church sweeping cobwebs off chandeliers and stained glass windows. In my child's eyes I saw him feeding roaches and mice with breadcrumbs from the convent's pantry. I wanted to know how he could tell ants and mosquitoes to keep away from people.

Next to my list were children saints whose mouths expelled rose petals and leprous saints whose gangrenous wounds exuded heavenly scents. I also had such fond respect for saints who battled demons and evil spirits though at that young age I wouldn't want to have their power of exorcism. Saints who possess the ability to cure people at will also figured in my imagination. I wanted to imitate them, to go around our neighborhood touching the foreheads of those who were afflicted by malaria. We had a neighbor whose three daughters were born deaf and mute. I wanted to touch their tongues and ears so they could talk to us normally. We had a hunchback playmate who was in and out of the hospital because pus had to be extracted from his back. I, too, wanted to cure him of his misery.

When I was a bit older I heard of saints who could be in two places at the same time. I wondered how would it be like to be in the province doing nothing while also attending school. I wondered which places I would visit and which relatives would I surprise by my bi-locating act. But nothing fascinated me more than saints who could read minds. I imagined looking into peoples' eyes and seeing in all clarity what their thoughts and concerns were. Wouldn't it be wonderful, I asked myself, to read through your teachers' thoughts, to guess accurately your classmates' ideas without actually doing some research?

However, I also learned how difficult were the lives of these saints were. They had to pray all the time. They had to do unimaginable things, great sacrifices, exemplary works of charity and mercy. They had to watch their tongue, guard their thoughts and control their actions. I realized that I couldn't do that at all times. Then my desire to be a saint like Martin or Pancratius or Rita became just a childhood fantasy. I was convinced that saints were born not made.

A few days ago, in Fr. Jojo's homily, he carefully differentiated the saints from ordinary mortals like us. He said that saints are people, like us, in every way except for one thing: their desires to please God exceeds their desire to be great. They are people whose constant preoccupation is not to be good, per se. They are people whose unflagging diligence at prayer and works of mercy are a result of their great love for God. In effect, he was saying, that constancy in one's desire to please God, makes saints in us. It is not powers or the miracles attributed to saints that make them great, but their great love for God which enable them to do great and wonderful things. And there are a host of other saints, known and unknown, who did not manifest amazing powers over nature, Ignatius and Alphonsus Rodriguez were among them. Ignatius founded a religious order that changed the world, Rodriquez was merely a lowly brother who opened doors to pilgrims and visitors. But they were both canonized as saints.

It is not therefore in the kind of work that one does that makes him/her a saint. Rather it is the amount of love one puts in his/her work that makes him/her a saint. Maybe it's not too late for you or me to be a saint...

Todos Los Santos sa Plaza Lacson

2005-11-03T09:12:00.000+08:00

ni Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

Alas nuebe ng gabi nang simulang gumapang
Ang mga kaluluwang pagal sa maghapong
Pagpipigil-patay, sa mga nitsong sako at karton
At sa kung saan-saang sulok na hindi basa
Inilatag ang mga katawang nanlilimahid sa siphayo

Habang ang ila’y kuntentong nakabaluktot sa loob
Ng peryodikong may pabatid ng bagong kabubukas
Na kondominyum, ang mga paslit ay pawang anghel
Sa pagkakahimlay at ‘di pansin ang papatinding lamig
Sa plazang itinayo para kay Meyor Arsenio Lacson

Sa bandang pedestal nang yumaong alkalde ng Maynila
Maaninag ang isang dalagitang durog sa kasisinghot
Sa supot ng rugby, nangungulit ng pera sa isang mamang
Maganda ang bihis at panay ang lamas sa suso ng bangag
‘Di alintana ang mga matang nagmamasid at ‘di nakakakita

Doon sa may malahiganteng paso ikinabit ng aling patpatin
Ang pansamantalang kulambong tumatakip sa kasisilang
Na sanggol samantalang ang asawa’y nakatayong nagpaparaos
Ng tinunggang alak sa kalawanging bakod at saka nagmumura
At nagbabantang papatayin ang kalaguyo ng may TB’ng asawa

Sa ilalim ng nakabubulag na liwanag ng isang lampara
Tahimik na nagbubuklat ng aklat abugasya ang isang mataba
At bata pang estudyante samantalang sa harap niya ay
Masugid na sinusuma ng matandang lalaking abuhin ang ulo
Ang mapapalad (at tatamang tiyak!) na mga numero sa lotto

May mga lalake’t babaeng magkalingkis ang mga paa
Mga magsing-irog na inabutan ng libog at dilim at kapos
Din naman sa salapi at hiya ay doon na magpapalipas ng gabi
Malawak, maluwag ang Plaza Lacson at walang ipinagbabawal
‘Di gaya ng mga sementeryong pang mayaman

Funny Church Bulletins

2005-10-31T10:31:00.000+08:00

I stumbled upon these very funny church announcements. I'm dying to share them with you.

Scouts are saving aluminum cans, bottles, and other items to be recycled. Proceeds will be used to cripple children.

The outreach committee has enlisted 25 visitors to make calls on people who are not afflicted with any church.

Evening massage - 6 PM

Low Self-Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.

For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.

Don't let worry kill you - let the church help.

Thursday night - Potluck supper. Prayer and medication to follow.

The third verse of Blessed Assurance will be sung without musical accomplishment.

The choir will meet at the Larsen house for fun and sinning.

Miss Charlene Mason, sang, "I Will Not Pass This Way Again," giving obvious pleasure to the congregation.

Ladies, don't forget the rummage sale. It is a good chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands.

Next Sunday is the family hayride and bonfire at the Fowlers. Bring your own hot dogs and guns. Friends are welcome! Everyone come for a fun time.

The pastor would appreciate if the ladies of the congregation would lend him their electric girdles for pancake breakfast next Sunday morning

Smile at someone who is hard to love. Say "hell" to someone who doesn't care much about you.

Remember in prayer the many who are sick of our church and community.

For those of you who have children and don't know it, we have a nursery downstairs.

The rosebud on the alter this morning is to announce the birth of David Alan Belzer, the sin of Rev. and Mrs. Julius Belzer.

This afternoon there will be a meeting in the South and North ends of the church. Children will be baptized at both ends.

Tuesday at 4:00 PM there will be an ice cream social. All ladies giving milk will please come early.

Wednesday the ladies liturgy will meet. Mrs. Johnson will sing "Put me in my little bed" accompanied by the pastor.

Thursday at 5:00 PM there will be a meeting of the Little Mothers Club. All ladies wishing to be "Little Mothers" will meet with the Pastor in his study.

This being Easter Sunday, we will ask Mrs. Lewis to come forward and lay an egg on the altar.

The audience is asked to remain seated until the end of the recession.

The service will close with "Little Drops of Water." One of the ladies will start quietly and the rest of the congregation will join in.

Next Sunday a special collection will be taken to defray the cost of the new carpet. All those wishing to do something on the new carpet will come forward and do so.

The ladies of the church have cast off clothing of every kind. They can be seen in the church basement Saturday.

A bean supper well be held on Tuesday evening in the church hall. Music will follow.

At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What is Hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

The Reverend Merriweather spoke briefly, much to the delight of the audience.

The eighth graders will be presenting Shakespeare's Hamlet in the church basement on Friday at 7:00 p.m. The congregation is invited to attend this tragedy.

During the absence of our pastor we enjoyed the rare privilege of hearing a good sermon when J.F. Scubbs supplied our pulpit.

With a smile on his face, the pastor listened as the church choir sang the traditional hymn, "How Great Thou Art", as the rather large casket of the over 500 pound parishioner was wheeled out of the church.

Following this morning's message will be a pubic profession of faith.

The Senior Choir invites any member of the congregation who enjoys sinning to join the choir.

Weight Watchers will meet at 7:00 p.m. at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use the large double door at the side entrance.

The Associate minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday - "I upped my pledge - up yours!"

A song listed in the Church Bulletin at the Nazarene Church in Little Rock, Arkansas; in connection with a sermon on God's mantle..."Let's God Mangle Fall on Me." (submitted by Luella Long)

Next Sunday, Mrs. Vinson will be the soloist for the morning service. The pastor will then speak on "It's a Terrible Experience."

The choir will meet at the Larsen home for fun and sinning.

A song fest was hell at the Methodist Church Wednesday.

The pastor will preach his farewell message, after which the choir will sing, "Break Forth Into Joy."

Irving Benson and Jessie Carter were married on Oct. 24 in the church. So ends a friendship that began in school days.

Due to the Rector's illness, Wednesday's healing services will be discontinued until further notice.

The concert held in the Fellowship Hall was a great success. Special thanks are due to the minister's daughter, who labored the whole evening at the piano, which as usual fell on her.

Today, Christian Youth Fellowship House Sexuality Course, 1 pm-8 pm. Please park in the rear parking lot for this activity.

Offertory: "Jesus Paid It All"

The church is glad to have with us today as our guest minister the Rev. Green who has Mrs. Green with him. After the service we request that all remain in the sanctuary for the Hanging of the Greens.

The Pastor would appreciate it if the ladies of the congregation would lend him their electric girdles for the pancake breakfast next Sunday morning.

The audience is asked to remain seated until the end of the recession.

Low Self-Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 to 8:30 p.m. Please use the back door.

Ushers will eat latecomers.

The third verse of Blessed Assurance will be sung without musical accomplishment.

Today's Sermon: HOW MUCH CAN A MAN DRINK? with hymns from a full choir.

22 members were present at the church meeting held at the home of Mrs. Marsha Crutchfield last evening. Mrs. Crutchfield and Mrs. Rankin sang a duet, 'The Lord Knows Why.'

The 1997 Spring Council Retreat will be hell May 10 and 11.

8 new choir robes are currently needed, due to the addition of several new members and to the deterioration of some of the older ones.

Please join us as we show our support for Amy and Alan in preparing for the girth of their first child.

The peace-making meeting scheduled for today has been cancelled due to a conflict.

Tonight's sermon-"What is hell?" Come early and listen to our choir practice.

The sermon this morning: Jesus Walks on the Water. The sermon tonight: Searching for Jesus.

Next Thursday, there will be tryouts for the choir. They need all the help they can get.

The agenda was adopted...the minutes were approved...the financial secretary gave a grief report.

Barbara C. remains in the hospital and needs blood donors for more transfusions. She is also having trouble sleeping and requests tapes of Pastor Jack's sermons.

The 'Over 60s Choir' will be disbanded for the summer with the thanks of the entire church.

Missionary from Africa speaking at Calvary Memorial Church in Racine. Name Bertha Belch. Announcement: "Come tonight and hear Bertha Belch all the way from Africa."

Announcement in a church bulletin for a National Prayer & Fasting Conference: "The cost for attending the Fasting & Prayer conference includes meals.

Is there Such a Thing as Predestination?

2005-10-30T09:35:00.000+08:00

Last night, together with some Jesuit scholastics, nuns and diocesan seminarians, we were invited to share our vocation stories with some youth of the Immaculate Conception Parish in Cainta, Rizal. The group where I belonged composed of about twelve youth, with age ranging from 10 to 21. We have with us some mother butlers and a host family (Tito Toti, Tita Zeny and Zei).

One mother asked me, what particularly struck me as an impertinent question: Do you believe in a pre-destined vocation? I didn't know how to go about it but felt I had to give the lady some answer to her honest question. Personally, I believe that there is no such thing as pre-destination. But the lady and another one insisted that there is, there must be. They argued that when God desires you to become a priest or a nun, even though you don't like it, there is nothing that you can do.

I tried explaining them that vocation is a dance of two freedoms: God who does the calling and the called who can either answer positively or refuse the invitation. But the ladies were getting hot on the topic, saying that this was what was taught to them. I wanted to tell them that they were wrong but I knew that in this context, I was not going to win. So I let them have the night. I disagree with the ladies because I do believe that God, no matter how powerful or noble His intentions are, will not coerce people into submitting into His will.

The Bible is filled with stories of hesitant heroes and prophets. Yet none of them were forced into accepting their roles. God called but they had the option not to heed Him. And so was the Blessed Virgin. She was chosen from all women, but it was her yes, her fiat, that finally won us our salvation. She was not, so to speak, pre-destined to fulfill a role she did not herself like.

Dance of two Freedoms. God calls. We hear the call. But it is up to us whether to heed that call or not. God is so generous and understanding and so free as to give us that choice whether to accept His love or not. This is difficult to understand. I, myself, am trying to comprehend the great mystery of my vocation. Why does God, for example, continue to preserve me, continue to bless me and take care of me despite my weaknesses, my sinfulness and infidelities towards Him? Am I pre-destined to fulfill a role He arranged from the beginning of Time? Should I fail Him, will He take it against me? Should I turn out a bad prophet or shepherd, will God blame Himself for it?

Are the two ladies pre-destined to pose their question to me? Am I pre-destined to disappoint them with my answer? Frankly, I do not know. But there is only one thing I know: we are all pre-destined, or pre-ordained, to spend Eternity with God the Father but just like a truly loving Father, He leaves the choice to us whether to accept this or not.

When Your World Blows into Pieces

2005-10-20T18:10:00.000+08:00

(or How Fr. Joemarie's Pitcher of Orange Juice Showed Me the Meaning of God's Enduring Love)

After I graduated from college, I taught for a year in Sta. Maria Catholic School, a Jesuit high school in Iloilo (Central Philippines). I was full of hope, full of passion and my idealism ran high. I was ready to conquer the world, one student at a time. Then came personal and familial problems along with them a friendship that had gone sour. I was away from family and friends on an island where I only had a few acquaintances.

The priest I was living in the convent with arrived very late at night and I went to school very early in the morning when he was still fast asleep. We rarely had the time to talk except on Sunday evenings after his priestly duties. But my problems could not wait for a few more days. I was beginning to explode inside. So I took a few hours off from school. I waited for him to go down from his room so we could have breakfast together. I cooked for him some bacon and eggs, french toasts I learned to prepare from watching Kramer vs. Kramer, and a pitcher of orange juice.

I wanted to seek his opinion on things that bothered me for weeks. As he settled himself down our little dinner table, I started stirring the sugar inside the glass pitcher. He was very pleased with what I prepared: it showed in his eyes and the wide smile on his lips. I picked the pitcher up from the kitchen sink when all of a sudden it fell on the floor scattering juice and shards of glass. I was very afraid that Fr. Joemarie would accost me for my carelessness. What he did surprised me and endeared him more to me: He just smiled, did not say anything, and then he knelt down and began picking up the pieces of glass that had scattered on the floor. Then he told me to go up and change my clothes.

In a very simple gesture I understood what it meant for God to love me with an everlasting and enduring love. When things go wrong and nothing seems right in my life. When I have committed the most serious blunder. When I have time and time again offended him. When my world seems to explode because I want to carry it inside my heart like I would a liter of orange juice in a pitcher, and when my dreams shatter before my eyes: He is there. He does not say anything. He just smiles at me. Then He kneels down and slowly but surely He begins picking up the pieces of my littered self. And then He says: "Go up son and change your clothes."

God the Father loves me so that He does the picking of my shattered self. And He does not want me to stay wet and shivering in cold. He forgives all my sins and gives me new clothes; new body, new spirit to wear so I can greet the day with more courage, more patience and more love because I have been loved, I am loved first and foremost.

When we carry our burdens by ourselves and when our world seems to blow from within, God does the unthinkable. And pretty soon, we just realize: we are whole and new again.

Fighting Dementia

2005-10-18T10:01:00.000+08:00

One of the priests I admire and respect has recently showed signs of dementia. Doctors are still trying to find out whether this dementia is Alzheimer's or Pick's Disease. It may be latter case since Father X still has his memory intact. In fact he remembers names of family members and his own community. I was very happy to return to the community where I first saw him. I remember him as a very soft-spoken, very gentle and kind elderly priest. I was glad to pay him a visit once more but was saddened to find him changed: he becomes talkative, he rattles on and on about many things, he makes predictions about this and that Jesuit and how to solve the problem on poverty in the Philippines. Gone is his happy and light disposition. Instead he is agitated, very upset about many things, very nervous. And very afraid.

I'm wondering how it feels to be fighting dementia. How does it feel to be fully aware that you are losing your sanity, your grip on common day-to-day things? Doctors say that dementia (in either form) is a degenerative disease and completely irreversible.

Ungrateful Sorrow

2005-10-08T23:02:00.000+08:00

by Rabindranath Tagore

At dawn shey(1) departed
My mind tried to console me -
" Everything is Maya(2)".
Angrily I replied:
"Here's this sewing box on the table,
that flower-pot on the terrace,
this monogrammed hand-fan on the bed---
all these are real."

My mind said: "Yet, think again."
I rejoined: " You better stop.
Look at this storybook,
the hairpin halfway amongst its leaves,
signaling the rest is unread;
if all these things are "Maya",
then why should "shey" be more unreal?"

My mind becomes silent.
A friend arrived and says:
"That which is good is real
it is never non-existent;
entire world preserves and cherishes it its chest
like a precious jewel in a necklace."

I replied in anger: "How do you know?
Is a body not good? Where did that body go?"

Like a small boy in a rage hitting his mother,
I began to strike at everything in this world
that gave me shelter.
And I screamed:" The world is treacherous."

Suddenly, I was startled.
It seemed like someone admonished me :" You- ungrateful ! "

I looked at the crescent moon
hidden behind the tamarisk tree outside my window.
As if the dear departed one is smiling
and playing hide-and-seek with me.

From the depth of darkness punctuated by scattered stars
came a rebuke: "when I let you grasp me you call it a deception,
and yet when I remain concealed,
why do you hold on to your faith in me with such conviction?"

(1): "Shey" in Bengali can mean either he or she.
(2): "Maya" meaning Unreal.

Second Chances, Second Bests

2005-10-03T09:23:00.000+08:00

Yesterday I watched Cinderella Man with Mao, a good friend from Iloilo. It was a very inspiring film about coming back, about being given a second chance. James J. Braddock was a boxing sensation during the American Depression era. He came back from almost nothing and won big because he capitalized on his belief that he could win and that "losers" never lose further.

The film made me realized some aspects of life that I have overlooked: about being given the second chance and about second bests. When we lose something or someone (often the very best that we have), we tend to think that anything else in our lives won't make it, would not be sufficient. A priced childhood toy takes on a value of a rare treasure. A really intimate friendship could mean the whole world to one person. Once these things get lost, broken or simply ceased to be, we can be shattered like glass. Each tiny shard throbs with pain. We suddenly feel incomplete, un-whole.

But the good thing is our God is also a God of second chances, of second bests. He allows the "firsts, the bests, the only-one's" in our lives to get lost, be broken, ceased to be so we may know their true worth. If they are authentic, then at least, we know. If they are not, still we know. But sometimes the "firsts, the bests, the only-one's" need to go so we may also learn to appreciate the second bests, the second chances, the second opportunities just waiting for us, right at our doorstep, if we are just willing to step out into the world.

We may realize that our second best friend is even better than our "best" friend. Our second shot at life, better than the first no matter how colorful or wonderful it may have been. I thank God, for giving me an experience of His great love and generosity for giving me the second bests in my life.

God Delights in You

2005-09-30T21:17:00.000+08:00

I just visited Naga where the Jesuits have a university. I joined the community of Jesuits there in their afternoon prayer. One phrase in their prayer booklet that struck me was this line: "God delights in you." I keep thinking about this even now. God delights in me? How and why?
How can God possibly delight in a person who keeps on doing what offends Him? How can He delight in me when I repeatedly commit the same mistakes, the same sins over and over again? How can Jesus positively be glad of me when everything I do seemed a failure, no good, not enough?

On my second day of stay in the Jesuit community, the Ateneo de Naga President, the genial and perpetually-smiling Fr. Joel Tabora, toured me inside the university church. He explained to me why this church is called Bicol baroque. In one of the stained glass windows, he pointed the image of a son crying, hugged tenderly and lovingly by his father. That, he said, is sin from the point of view of the Father.

God loves sinners. He must have loved me too. God delights in me. Not even though I am a sinner, not despite of, but because I am a sinner.

But Who Do You Say That I Am?

2005-09-23T06:47:00.000+08:00

Footnote Jesus. That's how many of us know Jesus. We know him through a learned priest's homily, through a Bible reading guide, through movies, through casual strangers, through preachers that ride on the bus, through prayer leaflets, through Hollywood. And many times Jesus has been likened to a real estate agent's flyer: He does this, He does that. He gives this and that. If you take Him, He will make you _________ (please fill in the blank legibly).

Jesus has become a product to purchase, a line to commit to memory, a spam that we cannot delete. Who do you say that I am, asked He. Yet even his closest friends were at lost at answering him. Who is this guy really? Well, for one he is John's cousin. He is the carpenter's son. He performs practical magic. He associates with crooks and shameful people. No one seemed to know who He really was. So like a teacher who did not want to be embarrassed in front of his class, He called on his favorite (and presumably) brightest student.
Peter, who do you say that I am? By golly, You are the Messiah, the Son of God. Came down from Heaven to save us. And Jesus was pleased, only to later on learn that Peter simply browsed through a brochure advertising Jesus. We know what happened.

For this week, I want to reflect on the same question that Jesus asked his disciples some two thousand years ago: But who do you say that I am. Who was Jesus for me? Who is He? Who will He be?

The God of Wanton Excesses

2005-09-20T18:43:00.000+08:00

Jesus has a penchant for overdoing things. When asked about the dwindling supply of wine at the Cana wedding, he produced several jars too many. When presented with loaves of bread and fish, he made twelve basketfuls of them. When questioned about forgiveness he advised to forgive not seven times but seventy-times seven times. He was fond of telling parables wherein those who were slapped should offer the other cheek, those whose linens were taken away should offer their tunics too and those pressed for service of one mile should do so for two miles.

Why did he do these things? As human beings we give importance to numbers, to things that can be quantified and measured. This is not our fault. Being rational people, we categorize things and experiences so we can make sense of them. The easiest way to understand them is to give approximate measure of their height, depth, length, number and so on. So for instance, when asked how rich a person is, we quote numbers. He earns six-digit figures. She drives a $50,000 car. When asked how beautiful a person is, we rattle off figures. She is five-eight tall, has C cup, 36-24-34 statistics.

We give too much premium on numbers and quite forget that there is more to life than figures from 0 to 9. In the above examples, Jesus used the very figures we are so familiar with to astound us, to shock us, to even make us disbelieve (for a moment) so we can come into a fuller realization of God's greatness. God does not deal with us as simply numbers in an equation. We can never be just one tiny, insignificant digit in the billions of people on earth.
our expectations. Blind people, the lame, those who are possessed did not just get healing. They too were forgiven. The adulteress was not simply forgiven, her dignity was restored to her. The paralytic was not simply healed, his ability to take control of his life was given back to him. Peter's betrayal was answered with three affirmative declaration of love, restoration of trust and a giving of power to do the same to others what Jesus had done to him.

And so, by way of example, Jesus imitates the Father's great love for us by exceedingetrayal was answered with three affirmative declaration of love, restoration of trust and a giving of power to do the same to others what Jesus had done to him.

Our God is a God of wanton excesses because we are loved much, much greater than we can ever imagine or ways we can count.

Throw Off Your Cross!

2005-09-18T23:57:00.000+08:00

Yesterday Fr. Luis David of the Society of Jesus gave us a very radical re-interpretation of the Gospel text "Pick up your mat and walk!" (Mk 2:1-12). Instead of simply rehashing old biblical exegesis he emphasized the often neglected aspect of Jesus' mercy: the empowering and liberating kind of mercy. He said, Jesus is not simply desirous of forgiving us and healing us. He also wants us to take control of our lives, to throw off the yokes that burden us, to cast off the shackles that bind us. And sometimes, to throw off even our very crosses.

We have come to identify suffering as a form of doing good or being holy. Far from it, Fr. David says. Our crosses can become a self-deluding tool, a device for self-paralysis; all in the ruse of following Jesus. Many times we deceive ourselves into believing that only by suffering do we merit God's love and forgiveness. God is a God of mercy and love, He does not want people blindly following Him by making life more difficult for them. He doesn't want us dragging our crosses and mumbling along the way. God wants us to live fuller and happier lives. It's blasphemy to say that God requires our blood, sweat and tears for Him to be glorified.

Come to think of it, Jesus walked this earth of mankind for thirty-three years. And three of those years were the happiest years of His life. His activities showed it: he was fond of parties, of banquets, of visiting friends, of rests and story-telling. Only one day in his life did he walk towards the calvary. Would he rather prefer that we walk with Him in the calvary bearing heavy crosses than as a friend along the beach at dusk?

When our crosses prove to be too heavy, maybe we are adding more weight to it than is necessary. Jesus already carried the Cross for us and we need not carry it back more than we have to carry ourselves as freed and empowered men and women.

God empowers as he does challenge. He gives life as he does heal. He liberates as he forgives.

Nothing Lasts Forever

2005-09-14T08:40:00.000+08:00

Yesterday I delivered an invitation letter to Fr. Al from the Dept. of English and Comparative Literature in U.P. Since he can't read the letter himself, he asked me (by gesturing and mumbling a few sounds) to read it for him. Being a distinguished alumnus and long-time faculty member of the Department (he was one if not the first to get a Ph. D from there), he was invited to attend today's 95th anniversary celebration.

He was so excited to hear the news and expressed that he would like to come. But he couldn't express it in one straight and coherent sentence. I had to coax out from him what he wanted to say by filling in the first two words that came out of his mouth. I was suddenly struck by the realization that this genial Jesuit has lost his gift of language, his ability to express in lush prose and poetry what he feels in his heart.

A few months ago, I was agonizing over the difficulty of reading his scholarly dissertation. And now, I am agonizing at what he is trying to say. From the brilliant scholar, beloved teacher of literature and untiring tutor to those who wanted to polish their English, Fr. Al has become a speechless songbird. I see in his eyes both the joy of the news I brought to him and at the same time the sadness and frustration that he could not share with me his precious memories of his bygone days.

In this Society of ours (our Jesuit congregation), nothing lasts forever. Not the gift of speech, the ability to speak in seven languages. Not the keen and sharp intelligence. Not the physical beauty or charm. Not the sense of humor nor the zeal and passion for work. Everything, everything can be taken, most of them quite literally, in fulfilment of what we pray everyday:

Take and receive, o Lord
My liberty, take all my will,
My mind, my memory
All things I hold and all I own
Are Yours, Yours was the gift to You
I all resign
Do You, direct and govern all and sway
Do what You will, command and I will obey
Only Your Grace, Your Love on me bestow
These make me rich, All else will I forego...

Nothing lasts forever. Except God's faithfulness and promises that at the end of our lives, after all the toils and pains of loving, ours is the Eternity to rest in His Loving Embrace.

Sept. 11 Anniversary

2005-09-11T20:04:00.000+08:00

Prayer for Peace in the Whole World

Lord God, we come together as people desirous to achieve peace in our world. We know the devastating effects of war and terrorism. We have seen the violence wrought by indifference and insensitivity towards the welfare our fellowmen. We gather as one people of different races, religion and nationality. We kneel before Your holy presence. We admit that there can be no peace unless we first have peace in our hearts.

Remove all hatred, all fear and all biases and all prejudices that have long taken shelter in our countries, in our cities, offices, schools, churches, homes and hearts. Banish every thought that puts our fellow human beings at a disadvantage or in a humiliating position. Make us all aware that we are Your children though we may have differences in opinion, ways of doing things, beliefs and skin color.

Remind us Lord that if we really want peace , we must strive hard for it and keep its spirit alive. We must never let a single ounce of discrimination seep into our judgment. May we not value people for what they have or not have but for what they really are. May You teach us compassion and humility and genuine care and concern for one another.

Heal our broken lives, our broken spirits and broken hearts. May Your kingdom reign in our lands, both now and forever. Amen.

Fr. Johhny's 100th Birthday

2005-09-10T23:10:00.000+08:00

Last Thursday I attended Fr. Johnny Ledesma's 100th birthday. There were more than a hundred people who attended this genial priest's party which was held (through the kindness of the Archbishop of Manila, His Eminence Gaudencio Rosales) at Villa San Miguel, the Bishop's residence. Friends and colleagues, students and mentees attented this once in a lifetime occasion. (I mean, how many times can you really attend someone's 1ooth birthday?).

But there were no relatives who came to Fr. Johnny's party. Not that he outlived them all. No. He hadn't any. You see, Fr. Johnny was an orphan. His father was a U.S. soldier who went back to the states and left him and his mother. When he was five, his mother died and he was sent to the Hospicio de San Jose, an orphanage in Manila. A Spanish family would have adopted him but God seemed to have brighter things instore for him. On the day he was adopted, he cried relentlessly prompting the family to send him back to the hospice. They were probably thinking that something was not right with the child.

And they were true. Fr. Johnny turned too good to be just an adopted child. He would later on excel in his studies. He attended first the diocesan San Carlos Seminary but was transferred to Colegio de San Jose, a seminary run by the Jesuits. His formators saw his keen intelligence and holiness that they consented that he entered the Society of Jesus. After several years he was ordained and sent to Rome for further studies. It was in the Eternal City where he would spend several thousands of hours researching about Diego de San Vitores, a Jesuit Missionary in the Marianas and his Filipino lay companion/catechist Pedro Calungsod. It was his learned research that paved the way for the beatification of these two martyrs in Guam.

But what endeared Fr. Johnny to seminarians, nuns, priests and lay people alike was not his intelligence but his kindness and compassion for people. He helped countless seminarians to finish studying and through his writing and publishing of prayer booklets was able to finance their needs while they were in the seminary. Fr. Johnny understands too the turmoil and anguish of a sinful heart that it was reported that when someone approaches him for confession he will invariably say "Very good!," signifying perhaps "You are a true son of God. You made the right choice of going back to Him. "

Whenever I see people like him, I look at myself and ask: WILL I EVER BE LIKE THAT? But I know that God has also something big instore for me. I may not be a very holy or very intelligent person but I know He will be faithful to His promises to me. This I hold in my heart.

Happy Birthday Fr. Johnny!!! (Eh, shall I say more birthdays to come!)

Poem for Mother Mary's Birthday

2005-09-07T21:46:00.000+08:00

The Blessed Virgin Mary Compared to a Window - Written in 1944

Because my will is simple as a window
And knows no pride of original birth,
It is my life to die, like glass, by light:
Slain in the strong rays of the bridegroom sun.

Because my love is simple as a window
And knows no shame of original dust,
I longed all night, (when I was visible) for dawn my death:
When I would marry day, my Holy Spirit:
And die by transsubstantiation into light.

For light, my lover, steals my life in secret.
I vanish into day, and leave no shadow
But the geometry of my cross,
Whose frame and structure are the strength
By which I die, but only to the earth,
And am uplifted to the sky my life.

When I became the substance of my lover,
(Being obedient, sinless glass)
I love all things that need my lover's life,
And live to give my newborn Morning to your quiet rooms,
-Your rooms, that would be tombs,
Or vaults of night, and death, and terror,
Fill with the clarity of living Heaven,
Shine with the rays of God's Jerusalem:
O shine, bright Sions!

Because I die by brightness and the Holy Spirit,
The sun rejoices in your jail, my kneeling Christian,
(Where even now you weep and grin
To learn, from my simplicity, the strength of faith).

Therefore do not be troubled at the judgements of the thunder,
Stay still and pray, still stay, my other son,
And do not fear the armies and black ramparts
Of the advancing and retreating rains:
I'll let no lightning kill your room's white order.

Although it is the day's last hour,
Look with no fear:
For the torn storm lets in, at the world's rim,
Three streaming rays as straight as Jacob's ladder:

And you shall see the sun, my Son, my Substance,
Come to convince the world of the day's end, and of the night,
Smile to the lovers of the day in smiles of blood;
For though my love, He'll be their Brother,
My light - the Lamb of their Apocalypse.

Fr. Thomas Merton

Oh No! Not Again...

2005-09-07T17:41:00.000+08:00

The Filipino congressmen have done it again: Betrayed the Filipino people whose interest they have sworn to represent. These solons have put their personal and political interests above the interest of the nation. And by doing so they have put another millstone on the neck of the ordinary people.

I am so speechless...

Filipinos and Calamities

2005-09-03T16:54:00.000+08:00

My friends and I were watching a CNN Report on the destruction wrought by Hurricane Katrina to citizens of New Orleans, Louisianna. We were so surprised when we saw people screaming and getting all hyterical because their food supplies have not arrived on time. One colored woman said: "We are dying in here!" Another said: "People are getting desperate. They do anything just to survive."

We were surprised not because of the desperate situation of the victims, knowing that they live in the world"s most prosperous nation, but their reaction to the calamity that befell them and the seemingly slow delivery of basic services. (I don't want to downplay what they are experiencing. I know that lives have been lost and are being lost until this moment). Our reaction was coming from an insider to calamities. In a country where typhoons, earthquakes, flash floods, volcanic eruptions are very ordinary as they are experienced several times all year round, disasters become as common as rain.

Getting used to all sorts of disasters (whether natural or man-made) is like second-nature to Filipinos. In almost all disasters in the world, one or two Filipinos would be amo casualties (Twin Towers, Madrid and London bombings, sunk shipsng the and crashed planes, etc.). Foreigners are puzzled when they see a scavenging family, living inside a wooden cart, laugh and smile at strangers. It is only in this country where children and adults wave at reporters even when water has submerged their homes and destoyed their crops. I guess too much suffering has a desensitizing effect into it: the more you have it, the less you feel it.

But also, we have learned to be modest with our expectations of our government leaders. We have learned to temper our wish-list. When disasters strike we do not really expect that they would go all the way to rescue us and give us aid (unless of course when it's election time or when it is televised). But not all Filipino officials are like this, there are some who possess a genuine heart for the poor, but they are very few and far in between.

Third reason why we put a straight face against disasters is the very religious nature of Filipinos. People leave their homes invoking God for protection. Jeepneys, buses and taxis have a picture or two of the Child Jesus or Mary. Bridges and overpasses would have sayings like: Trust God. Pray. It helps! In all awarding ceremonies from movies to music, winners offer their trophies and thank God for their victories. We really are a people of faith. And this is what I think strengthens us in the face of the most horrible catastrophes. God is our sure help. He never fails. And we trust in Him.

Protestants Re-Discover Mary

2005-09-01T22:53:00.000+08:00

On September 8, Catholics all-over the world (and some Protestants too) will celebrate the Feast of the Birth of the Virgin Mary. I have decided to quote Fr. Miguel Bernad, S.J.'s article which appeared on The Philippine Star for this ocassion.

PROTESTANTS RE-DISCOVER MARY

MANILA, August 15, 2005 (STAR) AT RANDOM By Miguel A. Bernad, S.J. - A recent issue of Newsweek devoted almost half its pages to an article on new developments among Protestants regarding the Blessed Virgin Mary. A significant number of American Protestant theologians and preachers have come to realize that there is more in the Bible about the Virgin Mary than they had paid attention to in the past.

In general, Protestants have been reluctant to concede any special honor to Mary. They were willing to admit that she was the Mother of Jesus — and that was all. They condemned any special honor paid to her. "An ordinary woman, like anybody else," they said. "An ordinary housewife."

But of late, some theologians and preachers, by more careful reading of the Bible, have come to realize that Mary was really an important figure. Much space in the Gospels is devoted to her: the Anunciation, the Visitation, the hymn "Magnificat" that St. Luke puts in her mouth; the loss of the Child Jesus during a visit to Jerusalem, and looking for him for three days and finding him in the Temple.

According to the Gospel of St. John, it was at Mary’s suggestion that Jesus worked his first miracle, the changing of water into wine at the marriage feast of Cana. He did it after merely a hint from her.

But what really impressed the Protestant theologians and preachers was the fact that at the crucifixion, Mary was there on Calvary. A mother who is willing to stand the whole time while her Son was in terrible agony on the cross, just standing there till he died and then to be among those to take care of his body, must have been a woman of extraordinary psychological strength.

The Protestant theologians are saying, "We Protestants accept nothing except what is in the Bible, and yet, there is much in the Bible about Mary that we have not been paying attention to."

Protestants are not yet ready to accept the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception (that Mary was sinless from the beginning of her existence in her mother’s womb), and the doctrine of the Assumption (that Mary is alive in heaven, body and soul, with her Son). But if they reflect on the data of Scripture, they will see that these doctrines are perfectly logical.

At the Anunciation, Mary is told that she would become the Mother of the Redeemer. She accepted: "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to your word."

At that moment, by the power of the Holy Spirit, she conceived a Child in her womb. That Child was the Divine Word who thus becomes a man. It is in Mary’s womb that God becomes incarnate.

By becoming man, God sanctifies the world.

It is the beginning of redemption, culminating later on the cross. And this beginning of redemption takes place in Mary’s womb.

It is in her womb that we are all redeemed.

Surely (as Rahner points out) that makes Mary a very special person. She is more than just "any ordinary woman." More than just "any ordinary housewife." She is the Mother of the Redeemer as Redeemer. That entitles her to special respect and honor.

Article source

Did God Send the Hurricane?

2005-09-01T07:29:00.000+08:00

This natural disaster is bringing together a perfect storm of environmentalist and religious doomsday sayers.

By Deborah Caldwell



What caused Hurricane Katrina to slam the U.S. Gulf Coast? Was it a typical late-summer tropical storm caused by wind, water, and heat? Mother Nature crying out on behalf of the earth’s pain? An angry God? Depends whom you ask. All along the theological and political spectrum, Katrina has crystallized people’s fears into a now-familiar brew of apocalyptic theories similar to what we saw after September 11 and after the Asian tsunami several months ago.

At least one New Orleans-area resident believes God created the storm as punishment because of the recent role the United States played in expelling Jews from Gaza. On Sunday evening, Bridgett Magee of Slidell, La., told the Christian website Jerusalem Newswire that she saw the hurricane "as a direct 'coming back on us' [for] what we did to Israel: a home for a home." Stan Goodenough, a website columnist, described Katrina as “the fist of God” in a Monday column. “What America is about to experience is the lifting of God’s hand of protection; the implementation of His judgment on the nation most responsible for endangering the land and people of Israel,” Goodenough writes. “The Bible talks about Him shaking His fist over bodies of water, and striking them.”

Meanwhile, spiritual and political environmentalists say that massive hurricanes such as Katrina, along with the Asian tsunami, are messages from the earth, letting humanity know of the earth’s pain. These hurricanes are caused by global warming, environmentalists say, which are the result of using too much fossil fuel. They see the catastrophic consequences as a kind of comeuppance.

Katrina forced oil workers to evacuate rigs in the Gulf of Mexico; meanwhile, seven oil refineries and a major oil import terminal have been closed. The Gulf Coast region is home to a quarter of U.S. oil refining. As a result, Common Dreams, a liberal website, wrote Monday: “Oil may be achieving a new impact on daily news, people’s pocketbooks and world history--perhaps even the end of history and the world.” James Howard Kunstler, author of “The Long Emergency: Surviving the Converging Catastrophes of the 21st Century,” predicted in his Monday blog: “It seems possible to me that we will be seeing gas station lines all over America within the week.” In another area of his website, Kunstler writes: "We are entering a period of economic hardship and declining incomes...The suburbs as are going to tank spectacularly. We are going to see an unprecedented loss of equity value and, of course, basic usefulness. We are going to see an amazing distress sale of properties, with few buyers. We're going to see a fight over the table scraps of the 20th century."

Stephen O’Leary, a professor at the Annenberg School for Communication at the University of Southern California and an expert on the media and apocalypticism, says, “God’s got a two-fer here. Both sides are eager to see America punished for her sins; on one side it’s sexual immorality and porn and Hollywood, and on the other side it’s conspicuous consumption and Hummers.”

In some ways, these are mainstream feelings: In a recent CNN poll, 55% of those responding believe that global warming is causing the severe weather we've experienced recently, which is a kind of admission that a huge hurricane is part of the wages of (environmental) sin. Meanwhile, most polls show that 40% of all U.S. adults believe the physical world will eventually end as a result of a supernatural intervention, perhaps with a literal Rapture, Tribulation, Antichrist, and Battle of Armageddon described in the Book of Revelation. Nearly half of all Americans believe the Middle East will be “heavily involved” in the events surrounding the end of the world. And 40% believe the end of the world will come in their lifetime.

from beliefnet.com

Prayer on Finding God after a Long Search

2005-08-30T03:22:00.000+08:00

Too late have I loved you, O Beauty so ancient, O Beauty so new. Too late have I loved you! You were within me but I was outside myself, and there I sought you! In my weakness I ran after the beauty of the things you have made. You were with me, and I was not with you. The things you have made kept me from you - the things which would have no being unless they existed in you! You have called, you have cried, and you have pierced my deafness. You have radiated forth, you have shined out brightly, and you have dispelled my blindness. You have sent forth your fragrance, and I have breathed it in, and I long for you. I have tasted you, and I hunger and thirst for you. You have touched me, and I ardently desire your peace.

St. Augustine, Bishop of Hippo

The World Happened to Me...

2005-08-28T21:22:00.000+08:00

The Dulaang Sibol, Ateneo de Manila University High School theater group, presented its 302nd production of Sinta, a musical play adapted and transplanted from the Fantasticks of Harvey Schmidt and Tom Jones. It was my second time to watch the musical and I really enjoyed watching it. It's very rare that a literary piece (a musical one at that) can make you laugh out loud yet in the end make you really cry.

The genius of the play, and I guess the translator's (Onofre Pagsanghan aka Mr. Pagsi) genius as well, is its ability to play with your emotions. One time you see yourself laughing with the entire audience and another time you quietly notice that you are actually shedding tears. The music, the superb acting and the minimalist approach of this play makes its truly an event to watch and an experience to relive again and again.

This play makes no bones about baring the truth about love: that it is so sweet at the beginning yet it can be so cruel at the end. But just the same, it's the bitterness, the pain and folly together with the secret triumphs, the little sacrifices that we make that render this world a little more bearable.

In a very touching scene between the estranged young lovers Sinta and Narding, the young lady asks her betrothed, What happened to you? The young man replied haltingly, full of pain and sorrow, wisdom and understanding, What happened to me?...The world...the world happened to me...

Plays like this is a testament that boldly declares that despite the suffering that comes along with loving, it is finding each other and the Other, that makes our lives and our loves truly meaningful.

Anger Management

2005-08-27T16:27:00.000+08:00

This morning four of us Jesuit scholastics gave a recollection to four sections of grade six pupils of the Ateneo de Manila. I was humbled by the kids' sincerity in expressing their anger towards people who have hurt them. Some of them even went to describing in detail what happened to them and what they wanted the other person to do for them.

"Please stop insulting me," one of them said, "it really hurts and it's not true. I hope you can be more respectful of me."

Another one said, "I hope you realize that calling me names is not a good thing. I become angry whenever you call me names. Don't do that anymore."

And another one said, "I ask you to stop bullying me. It's not funny. Let's just be friends like before."

But I was more amazed to read their letter to God asking Him to help them deal with their anger more positively and in a healthy manner. They said:

"Lord, please teach me to forgive _________ . He hurts me and makes me sad. Give
me a heart that can forgive him."

"Jesus, you know that I and ________ are best friends. But he is so mean to me, doing
all sorts of nasty things towards me. I ask that you return him to a normal kid. Teach me also to forgive all those who hate me."

"God, teach my heart to forgive all who wrong me, especially _______ . I know you love even kids who do bad things to other kids. I know you love ________ also as you love me because sometimes I also do things that ________ d0es. Bless all of us."

It is so humbling and so refreshing to hear from the mouth of the babes the sincerest desire to forgive and ask for forgiveness. Maybe, if we just all learn how to manage our anger more properly and to ask God to grant us the grace of a forgiving heart, we'll all grow up into peace-loving and peace-making people. And maybe, just maybe, even George Bush Jr. need not wage war against Iraq if he would learn this simple truth from the children.

" A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you: and I will take away the stony heart out of your flesh, and I will give you an heart of flesh. And I will put my spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes, and ye shall keep my judgments, and do [them]. And ye shall dwell in the land that I gave to your fathers; and ye shall be my people, and I will be your God." (Ez 36:26-28)

The Shawshank Redemption

2005-08-25T20:16:00.000+08:00

I was still in high school when I saw this truly magnificent film. It's so mesmerizing that I have even memorized some of the lines spoken in the movie. With a haunting musical score and flawless narration by Morgan Freeman, this film was edged out of the Oscars by Forrest Gump.

The Shawshank Redemption was an adaptation of Stephen King's novella Rita Hayworth and the Shawshank Redemption. It chronicled the life story of Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins), a bank executive, who was wrongfully accused of murdering his wife and her lover. Serving almost two decades at the Shawshank facility for hardened criminals and outlaws, Andy earned the respect and admiration of his fellow inmates and his jailguards and even the ruthless warden by his incurably optimistic attitude towards life and his ominous silence and endurance of sufferings.

He made numerous friends, as well as enemies inside but his greatest contribution was "setting free" every man in Shawshank including their jailers. In a poignant scene in the movie, where Andy put a microphone on the phonograph, he earned a month's detention. Nevertheless, as Red (Morgan Freeman) put it:

"We never knew what those two Italian women were singing. But we all know, that for the brieftest of moment, everyman in Shawshank, was free."

And when Andy made his great escape from the prison, everyone felt happy but at the same time sad. Red said:

"Some birds are not meant to be kept because their feathers are too bright. Yet when they leave, something in you dies... Sometimes something's too painful that they cannot be expressed in words and that is why it makes our hearts ache."

Released in 1994.
Directed by: Frank Darabont.
Actors: Tim Robbins and Morgan Freeman

Prepare a hanky when watching this film.

There will Be (No) Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

2005-08-25T19:53:00.000+08:00

Jesus said to his disciples: "Stay awake! For you do not know on which day your Lord will come. Be sure of this: if the master of the house had known the hour of night when the thief was coming, he would have stayed awake and not let his house be broken into. So too, you also must be prepared, for at an hour you do not expect, the Son of Man will come.
(Mt 24:42-51)

No one knows for sure when the Lord will come. It could be this very minute, later this evening, next week or in the next century. So what is the point of waiting? Shouldn't we be better off spending our time doing something else? Why wait for someone or something that we are not sure when to arrive?

To this we have an answer in the mouth of Vladimir, one of the characters of Samuel Becket's Two-Act play Waiting for Godot.

VLADIMIR:: Let us not waste our time in idle discourse! (Pause. Vehemently.) Let us do something, while we have the chance! It is not every day that we are needed. Not indeed that we personally are needed. Others would meet the case equally well, if not better. To all mankind they were addressed, those cries for help still ringing in our ears! But at this place, at this moment of time, all mankind is us, whether we like it or not. Let us make the most of it, before it is too late! Let us represent worthily for once the foul brood to which a cruel fate consigned us! What do you say? (Estragon says nothing.) It is true that when with folded arms we weigh the pros and cons we are no less a credit to our species. The tiger bounds to the help of his congeners without the least reflection, or else he slinks away into the depths of the thickets. But that is not the question. What are we doing here, that is the question. And we are blessed in this, that we happen to know the answer. Yes, in this immense confusion one thing alone is clear. We are waiting for Godot to come—
ESTRAGON:: Ah!
POZZO:: Help!
VLADIMIR:: Or for night to fall. (Pause.) We have kept our appointment and that's an end to that. We are not saints, but we have kept our appointment. How many people can boast as much?

Perhaps it is not really the waiting nor the waited upon that matters most. It is the fidelity and love with which we wait that really is important. While waiting, we are asked, how much love have we put in the act of waiting?

And perhaps, when we have arrived at the place of the final destination, when we have truly loved not only the waited upon but the act of waiting itself, when we have shown the true character of our soul, whether the waited upon arrived or not, there would be no wailing and gnashing of teeth. Let us certainly hope so.

The Fear Of Life And Death

2005-08-24T21:47:00.000+08:00

Death wanders through our lives at will, sweet Death
Is busy with each intake of our breath.
Why do you fear her? Lo, her laughing face
All rosy with the light of jocund grace !
A kind and lovely maiden culling flowers
In a sweet garden fresh with vernal showers,
This is the thing you fear, young portress bright
Who opens to our souls the worlds of light.
Is it because the twisted stem must feel
Pain when the tenderest hands its glory steal?
Is it because the flowerless stalk droops dull
And ghastly now that was so beautiful ?
Or is it the opening portal's horrid jar
That shakes you, feeble souls of courage bare?
Death is but changing of our robes to wait
In wedding garments at the Eternal's gate.

by Sri Aurobindo

Reference: # 18 in "Les poèmes de Sri Aurobindo" (bilingual edition)
also in "Collected Poems and Plays, vol 1" - 144

The Vendo God

2005-08-24T08:10:00.000+08:00

One of the most amazing inventions of the twentieth century is the vendo machine. It's a machine that looks like a refrigerator with buttons and a coin/bill slot. The vendo dispenses products ranging from stamps and soda to condoms and cigarettes to anyone who wants them at anytime of the day. It's very simple to operate. You just have to insert into the slot a few coins or a paper bill and press some button combinations and presto, you have your cup of steaming cappuccino or an ice-cold softdrink.

But from time to time a snag happens: nothing comes out of the machine. Sometimes your coins or bills get "swallowed" by the machine and you can't get them back. Many times also, your coins or bills get "vomitted" by the machine and you stand frustrated until you begin kicking the machine or hitting it with your closed fist repeatedly. Then when you are too exhausted to do anything more you begin swearing at it. So much for technology!

Come to think of it, many of us treat God like a vendo machine. First we think about what things or favors we would ask from Him. Then with a few mumbled prayers (our coins and bills) coupled with a "charitable" work here and there and some sacrifice (our button combination) we demand something in return. And when we don't get it, we hit God repeatedly, we swear and curse Him. Then we leave in anger and frustration.

We expect God to be like a repository of good stuff available 24/7 , seven days a week. And that our prayers, no matter how sloppy, ought to coax out from Him a much-deserved goodie. And when He won't oblige our demands, we call Him names and do things that will hurt Him.

Straining the Gnat and Swallowing the Camel

2005-08-23T08:16:00.000+08:00

Jesus can really be so archaic and funny at the same time. (Mt 23:23-26) He sounds like the old people: our parents, aged professors, anyone past the age of fifty. If you are not familiar with a gnat then the pun has just escaped you. A gnat is a very small insect the size of a tick. While a camel is a flying mammal (just kidding!). To strain a gnat is similar to split nose hair.

So what is really the point of Jesus? We are sometimes too caught up with the details of everyday life. We give too much premium on the non-essentials of living. We impose too many restrictions on others and ourselves. We go to great length of tiring ourselves over petty things.

Yesterday, I was really annoyed by a classmate who misquoted me in front of the class. I wanted to shout at her and tell her that she was very wrong. I got so irritated that even when I was already home I kept thinking about her and talking about her. I didn't want to let the "offense" go lightly. I wanted her punished, humiliated even.

Now, that is straining the gnat! Splitting nose hair. While I was busy criticizing her (for all I know, she was really unaware of what she said) I forgot that I was doing too much damage on her person and to myself. Why wouldn't I let go of my hurt? My attitude towards her was worse than her fault. I swallowed the camel while I strained the gnat. Poor me!

An Imperfect God?

2005-08-22T07:33:00.000+08:00

It would have been easier for us to accept an imperfect God in place of one who is omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent. It would have been easier to believe in a God with limitations, a God with weaknesses and failings. It would make much more sense to accept that God cannot do all things all by Himself, that He cannot answer all our prayers at one time, that He does not really work 24/7, that He too tires and desires a much-deserved rest.

This way, we can all end blaming Him for wishes that He did not oblige to grant us. No one will blame Him for someone's death, for separation between lovers and friends or for not winning in a lottery. There will be no one to point an accusing finger towards Him when worse things happen to us. No one will feel hurt or rejected or abandoned when things go wrong and the only person left to blame is God.

Life would have been so much easy. We would no longer pin our hopes on Him. We would be modest in our expectations. After all, He is an imperfect God: He cannot do everything. And we might even begin to fend for ourselves, take care of ourselves and stand on our own two feet. After all, God may not be the best person to help us. And probably, we can begin to understand how difficult it is to be God.

We can go around and tell people, "Forgive me, I'm imperfect just like my God," and people may understand just what we mean. Then God will cease to be the Great Scapegoat of every mess that happens in our lives. We can then say, "Go easy on God, He is just...well, God."

Touched by An Angel

2005-08-21T21:55:00.000+08:00

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
live coiled in shells of loneliness
until love leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us into life.

Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love's light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.

by Maya Angelou

Even a Goldfish Has A Heart!

2005-08-20T20:51:00.000+08:00

I'd just watched this low-budget but critically succesful film entitled Mga Pusang Ligaw (Stray Cats). It's about two friends (one gay and one independent-minded woman) who had been abused by their male lovers and how they have come to discover that sometimes friendship is better than their most passionate romantic relationships. In one very touching scene, Marta (Irma Adlawan) confronted her unfaithful boyfriend about his infidelities and endless alibis. She told him:

"Kahit ang goldfish may puso. Sunod sa katawan at kaluluwa ang puso ang pinakamagandang ibinigay ng Diyos sa atin. Binigyan niya tayo ng puso para umibig at ibigin. Hindi pala Siya perpekto. Nakalimutan niyang bigyan ka ng puso." (Even a goldfish has a heart. The next most wonderful thing that God gave us after our body and soul is our hearts. [It seems that] God is not perfect. He forgot to give you a heart.)

To those who make other people's heart bleed: may you all be goldfish in a stray cat's mouth! Ouch!

Watch it before it disappears from the big screen.

Disturb Us, Lord

2005-08-15T07:01:00.000+08:00

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we have dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.

We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And to push into the future
In strength, courage, hope, and love.

attributed - sir francis drake -1577

more prayers at WorldPrayers

Neil Gaiman's Definition of Love

2005-08-14T19:58:00.000+08:00

Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it oepns up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

I think I have to agree with this definition...

Dumbledore's Death Faked!

2005-08-13T10:02:00.000+08:00

Just finished J.K. Rowling's 6th installment of the Harry Potter series (Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince). I must admit, like an older and bigger friend, I too cried and could not believe that the greatest wizard Dumbledore is dead. Although I don't want to spoil things for those who have not read the book yet, like all the rest of the intrigued and thinking Muggles, I believe that DUMBLEDORE IS ALIVE!

In fact he will be back on the last book (I hope it really is the last, Rowling is running out of ideas from her magic hat but definitely not of cash). He will continue to teach Harry lessons to defeat Lord Voldemort. One puzzling scene though involved Snape (Dumbledore's trusted assistant). Did he really (re)turn himself to the Dark Lord as a Death Eater? Was Dumbledore's death a hoax staged to catch the Death Eaters off guard?

Clue: On the battle at the Lightning Struck Tower Dumbledore mentioned to Malfoy that there is an option for him to go back to the Good Side. That there is a way to make it appear that Malfoy and his parents been killed so Voldemort would not retaliate on them. Could this be also on the minds of Snape and Dumbledore? Hhhhmmm....

Well this is just a conjecture. I hope Rowling is not surfing the net to see what people are thinking about the death of the Wizard that could preempt the ending of her Potter septralogy.

Still not convinced? I found this site helpful indeed. http://www.dumbledoreisnotdead.com/dumbledoreclues.html

Comments welcome!

Prayer for a Sense of Humor

2005-08-12T23:54:00.000+08:00

Lord,
I'm feeling weird these days.
People everywhere are frowning.
Maybe it's because of the weather.
Or the traffic jam that causes delays.
But I have a sinking feeling that no one's
in the mood for fun and a little laughter.
Like the man on the street who used to
be so cheery. I saw him awhile ago sulking.
Or the lady who used to give me an ear to
ear grin. She did not even lift her face
to welcome me when I entered her store.
Kids and old people are irritable. I don't
know for what reason. Maybe, this too
will pass. But when? I do not know.
So I ask you today, please...
Give us a sense of humor.
Let someone crack joke, or do something
stupid. That would elicit laughter from us.
Let us forget, even if for a moment, our problems
and concerns.

Lord, I beg you. Give us a sense of humor
and I mean RIGHT NOW!

Looking For Each Other

2005-08-12T10:35:00.000+08:00

I have been looking for you, World Honored One,
since I was a little child.
With my first breath, I heard your call,
and began to look for you, Blessed One.
I've walked so many perilous paths,
confronted so many dangers,
endured despair, fear, hopes, and memories.
I've trekked to the farthest regions, immense and wild,
sailed the vast oceans,
traversed the highest summits, lost among the clouds.
I've lain dead, utterly alone,
on the sands of ancient deserts.
I've held in my heart so many tears of stone.

Blessed One, I've dreamed of drinking dewdrops
that sparkle with the light of far-off galaxies.
I've left footprints on celestial mountains
and screamed from the depths of Avici Hell, exhausted, crazed with despair
because I was so hungry, so thirsty.
For millions of lifetimes,
I've longed to see you,
but didn't know where to look.
Yet, I've always felt your presence with a mysterious certainty.

I know that for thousands of lifetimes,
you and I have been one,
and the distance between us is only a flash of though.
Just yesterday while walking alone,
I saw the old path strewn with Autumn leaves,
and the brilliant moon, hanging over the gate,
suddenly appeared like the image of an old friend.
And all the stars confirmed that you were there!
All night, the rain of compassion continued to fall,
while lightning flashed through my window
and a great storm arose,
as if Earth and Sky were in battle.
Finally in me the rain stopped, the clouds parted.
The moon returned,
shining peacefully, calming Earth and Sky.
Looking into the mirror of the moon, suddenly
I saw myself,
and I saw you smiling, Blessed One.
How strange!

The moon of freedom has returned to me,
everything I thought I had lost.
From that moment on,
and in each moment that followed,
I saw that nothing had gone.
There is nothing that should be restored.
Every flower, every stone, and every leaf recognize me.
Wherever I turn, I see you smiling
the smile of no-birth and no-death.
The smile I received while looking at the mirror of the moon.
I see you sitting there, solid as Mount Meru,
calm as my own breath,
sitting as though no raging fire storm ever occurred,
sitting in complete peace and freedom.
At last I have found you, Blessed One,
and I have found myself.
There I sit.

The deep blue sky,
the snow-capped mountains painted against the horizon,
and the shining red sun sing with joy.
You, Blessed One, are my first love.
The love that is always present, always pure, and freshly new.
And I shall never need a love that will be called “last.”
You are the source of well-being flowing through numberless troubled lives,
the water from you spiritual stream always pure, as it was in the beginning.
You are the source of peace,
solidity, and inner freedom.
You are the Buddha, the Tathagata.
With my one-pointed mind
I vow to nourish your solidity and freedom in myself
so I can offer solidity and freedom to countless others,
now and forever.

- Thich Naht Hahn

From " Call me by my true names"

Forgive My Brother, How Many Times?

2005-08-11T12:36:00.000+08:00

Here again is one of Jesus' perplexing arithmetic. (Mt 18:21–19:1). He orders people to forgive their brothers not just seven times but seventy times seven times. One friend commented, if that is so, can I not forgive my brother when he has wronged me for the 491st time? (Recall that 70 x 7 is equal to 490). Again, if we use the arithmetic that our grade one teacher taught us it will get us nowhere near understanding Jesus' parable. Although a little Jewish mathematics will help us along the way.

Remember that for the Jews 7 is a perfect number. And so is 10. 7o then makes it a perfectly perfect number. Now if you multiply a perfectly perfect number with another perfect number which is 7 then you'll get a perfectly perfect perfect number. Confusing? Yes if we just stop at counting the number of times our brothers (or sisters) have wronged us and the number of times that we have had to endure the annoyance, irritation and humility of forgiving them.

What is Jesus really up to? He is telling us that there should be no end to our forgiveness. We must forgive our brothers each and every time they offend us. Yes, that means there should be no end to our forgiveness. As long as we live and we continue to be hurt, we must forgive.

Is this fair? Considering the number of times that we had been forgiven and we are being forgiven in each of our offenses against other people, against ourselves and against God, isn't 490 times too few and too limited? If we just forgive according to our own mathematics then there will come a time (or perhaps it had come already) when there will be no more room for forgiveness. That instead of extending understanding and love toward our erring brothers, we just keep keeping tabs on them and they on us.

Jesus can be very puzzling most times but He always makes sense, mathematically or otherwise.

God's "Faulty" Logic

2005-08-09T11:25:00.000+08:00

If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them goes astray,will he not leave the ninety-nine in the hills and go in search of the stray? And if he finds it, amen, I say to you, he rejoices more over it than over the ninety-nine that did not stray. In just the same way, it is not the will of your heavenly Father that one of these little ones be lost.

Mt 18:1-5, 10, 12-14

Now this is one of the most interesting and intriguing biblical passages that I have come across with. Not only does this one defy logic but also it defies all attempts at rationalizing God's way of doing things. How in the world, for example, are we to explain to people that God truly loves us unconditionally when even He would all the way go to the extent of leaving behind all 99 good sheep just to look for us? What will the other 99 say upon seeing us being carried lovingly by the Shepherd? Will they not grind their teeth in jealousy if not in outright anger seeing us being pampered?

The "answer" to this question came to me one night when I was at home. My mother was waiting for our "lost" brother to come home. We, her children, knew how useless it was to wait and look for someone who didn't want to be found. But there she was, persistent, ready to leave her other sheep to make sure that the lost one was found, fed and taken care of. Only another mother can fathom that mystery, that ineffable bond that connects all mothers to their children no matter how bad or good they have been.

I understood a little of what the Shepherd is up to everytime He goes out in search of the lost and those who don't want to be found. I look at my mother and see, no motivation other than love, prompts her to patiently wait for her lost son. It is not that she loves more my lost brother than the rest of us beside her. She just knows who needs more loving and understanding and caring at that particular time among us her children. And that sensitive loving does not diminish in anyway her love for all of us. And I believe, that should the same thing happen to me--if I get lost along the way, she will be there to look and wait for me.

God's "faulty" logic has its use: to save the lost who would not otherwise be saved if God merely uses logic. Blaise Pascal once said: The heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of.

Questions that you’ve always wanted to ask (but were afraid to do so)

2005-08-07T23:52:00.000+08:00

When an atheist swears on a Bible before they testify in court do they have to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth since they don't believe in God?

Why is it when we talk to God we are praying, but when God talks to us we are put into the loony bin?

How do "do not walk on grass" signs get there?

When a store has double doors why do they only let you use one of them?

What if you were to ask a genie to grant you more than three wishes for one of you wishes?

Why do the numbers on phones go down while the numbers on calculators go up?

Are children who act in rated 'R' movies allowed to see them?

Can you make a candle out of your earwax?

Do illiterate people get the full effect of Alphabet soup?

Why don't the hairs on your arms get split ends?

Why is it that when you get out of a swimming pool, your urine is hotter when you use the restroom?

If a fork were made of gold would it still be considered silverware?

Do they have girl’s bathrooms in gay bars?

Why do companies offer you "free gifts?" Since when has a gift NOT been free?

Why are people allowed to put naked statues outside but why can't we run outside naked?

If a missing person sees their picture on a milk carton that offers a reward, would they get the money?

If you were a genie and a person asked you this wish, "I wish you would not grant me this wish" what would you do?

If I had my legs amputated, would I have to change my height and weight on my driver's license?

If you were under house arrest and you lived in a mobile home, wouldn’t you be able to go anywhere you want?

If scientists were ever going to figure out how to travel through time, wouldn’t we now be seeing people from the future?

If you don't pay your exorcist, do you get repossessed?

from: http://www.crazythoughts.com/

What Have You Been Afraid Of, Lately?

2005-08-06T21:07:00.000+08:00

I've heard of people afraid of almost anything in their lives: spiders, the dark, ghosts, nuclear war, germs in their food, of drowning, of dogs, etc. I know of people who are afraid of being afraid, in a constant fear that somehow, somewhere, someone is out to get them. Still others are afraid of being abandoned, neglected or unloved by their parents, spouse, children or friends.

No matter what we are afraid of, be they things seen or unseen, events or ideas, it just shows that we are one with the rest of humanity. But when our fears exceed the limits of normalcy: when they begin to paralyze us, then we really have a problem. We have to have someone to talk about it and put an end to it. God desires that we become fully alive. He doesn't want his children to be hiding and keeping to themselves while the rest of the world is out there in the sun having fun.

It's OK to be afraid. It's the excessive fear that is not OK. Even saints, like Peter, (Mt 17:1-9) can falter and lose faith and become very afraid. But their fear ends when they remember that Christ is always with them. We only become very afraid when we lose sight of Him. We become anxious of things when we fail to see that He is with us, ever-ready to extend His loving arms to reach out to us when we feel that a sea of anxiety is ready to engulf us.

Like Peter we get distracted by our worldly concerns that we tend to forget that Jesus walks with us on the topsy-turvy water of lives. And yet, when we cry out to Him in panic and in pain, we are surprised that He is really there. Just waiting for us...And He, a little hurt, gently chastises us: "Why did you doubt, you of little faith?"

Veni Creator

2005-08-03T23:06:00.000+08:00

Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses,
appearing or not above our heads in a tongue of flame,
at hay harvest or when they plough in the orchards,
or when snow covers crippled firs in the Sierra Nevada.

I am only a human being: I need visible signs.
I tire easily, building the stairway of abstraction.
Many a time I asked, you know it well,
that the statue in church lift its hand, only once, just once, for me.
But I understand that signs must be human,
therefore, call one person, anywhere on earth,
not me-after all I have some decency-
and allow me, when I look at that person,
to marvel at you.

By: Czeslaw Milosz

The beauty of this poem lies in its simplicity and depth. Here a person begs God to show him a sign of His power. But he knows that God is much much more powerful than he can ever witness or understand. Despite this, he humbles himself into accepting even the littlest and faintest sign that would betray God’s presence.

Hunger Camp At Jaslo

2005-08-03T08:31:00.000+08:00

Hunger Camp At Jaslo

Write it. Write. In ordinary ink
on ordinary paper: they were given no food,
they all died of hunger. "All. How many?
It's a big meadow. How much grass
for each one?" Write: I don't know.
History counts its skeletons in round numbers.
A thousand and one remains a thousand,
as though the one had never existed:
an imaginary embryo, an empty cradle,
an ABC never read,
air that laughs, cries, grows,
emptiness running down steps toward the garden,
nobody's place in the line.

We stand in the meadow where it became flesh,
and the meadow is silent as a false witness.
Sunny. Green. Nearby, a forest
with wood for chewing and water under the bark-
every day a full ration of the view
until you go blind. Overhead, a bird-
the shadow of its life-giving wings
brushed their lips. Their jaws opened.
Teeth clacked against teeth.
At night, the sickle moon shone in the sky
and reaped wheat for their bread.
Hands came floating from blackened icons,
empty cups in their fingers.
On a spit of barbed wire,
a man was turning.
They sang with their mouths full of earth.
"A lovely song of how war strikes straight
at the heart." Write: how silent.
"Yes."

Wislawa Szymborska

The poet is a Polish Nobel laureate for poetry.

Translated by Grazyna Drabik and Austin Flint

Are you Kathlick?

2005-07-31T09:22:00.000+08:00

This is pretty cute, no matter your religion

Three little boys were concerned because they couldn't get anyone to play with them. They decided it was because they had not been baptized and didn't go to Sunday School. So they went to the nearest church. Only the janitor was there. One little boy said, "We need to be baptized because no one will come out and play with us. Will you baptize us?"

"Sure," said the janitor. He took them into the bathroom and dunked their heads in the toilet bowl, one at a time. Then he said, "Now go out and play."

When they got outside, dripping wet, one of them asked, "What religion do you think we are?"

The oldest one said, "We're not Kathlick, because they pour the water on you."

"We're not Babtis, because they dunk all of you in the water."

"We're not Methdiss, because they just sprinkle you."

The littlest one said, "Didn't you smell that water!"

"Yeah! What do you think that means?"

"I think it means we're Pisscopalians.”

N.B. no offense meant to Kathlicks, Babtis, Methdiss and especially Pisscopalians.

Rabbi Elimelech's Prayer

2005-07-30T22:20:00.000+08:00

Guard us from all deflections and from all haughtiness,
from anger and sudden rage, from dismalness of heart
and evil insinuations, and from all other ignoble things
and from aught that stains Thy holy and pure service,
which is precious to us. Pour out over us Thy holy spirit,
that we may cling to Thee and that our desire
may be fixed upon Thee…
Redeem us from envy of our comrades;
let no envy arise in our hearts…
Grant us so to act that all shall see
the merits of our comrades and not their lacks,
and that we, each one of us, speak with his comrades
in the way of veraciousness,
which is pleasing in Thy sight…Amen.
May this be Thy will.

From Martin Buber’s For the Sake of Heaven, p82.

Mars "Attack!" This August

2005-07-30T18:31:00.000+08:00

The Red Planet (MARS) is about to be spectacular!

This month and next, Earth is catching up with
Mars in an encounter that will culminate in the
closest approach between the two planets in
recorded history.

The next time Mars may come this close is in year
2287. Due to the way Jupiter's gravity tugs on
Mars and perturbs its orbit, astronomers can only be
certain that Mars has not come this close to Earth
in the last 5,000 years, but it may be as long as
60,000 years before it happens again.

The encounter will culminate on August 27th when
Mars comes to within 34,649,589 miles of Earth
and will be (next to the moon) the brightest object
in the night sky. It will attain a magnitude of -2.9
and will appear 25.11 arc seconds wide. By
August 27, Mars will look as large as the full moon to the
naked eye. Mars will be easy to spot.

At the beginning of August it will rise in the east at
10p.m. and reach its azimuth at about 3 a.m. by
the end of August when the two planets are
closest, Mars will rise at nightfall and reach its
highest point in the sky at 12:30a.m. That's pretty
convenient to see something that no human being
has seen in recorded history. So, mark your
calendar at the beginning of August to see Mars
grow progressively brighter and brighter
throughout
the month.

NO ONE ALIVE TODAY WILL EVER SEE THIS
PHENOMENA AGAIN.
So share this with your family, friends, children

Two Ways of Dying in Darfur

2005-07-30T08:22:00.000+08:00

There are two ways to die in Darfur
The first is slow, meticulous and agonizing
It starts with a quiet gnawing at the stomach
And then an intermittent palpitation of
The wrist and the temple ensues, coupled with
Throbbing pain and dizziness and nausea
You’re marked for one when you begin to see
Your bones protrude from your flimsy skin
Or when your eyes seem like hollowed sockets
And flies and maggots fester at your gangrenous
Wounds that no longer bleed nor will ever heal
While vultures patiently wait for God to release
Your soul so they may feast on your liver and innards

The second death is sharp and painless
Or almost without pain because you are either
Too numb to feel it or you’ve quite forgotten
What pain is because all your life you’ve been
In one (like fish unmindful of the ocean)
This death is loud, violent and merciful
If by mercy you mean swift and certain
Like bullets through your brain or bombs that
Maim and instantly kill
You would prefer this for sure, rather than
The slow, meticulous and agonizing one
But even if you wished hard for this because
The first one is already in the process
Vultures still lay waiting to peck at what remains
Of your mangled and dishonored corpse

Shocking Picture

2005-07-29T17:29:00.000+08:00

The following was from an e-mail sent to me by a friend. It really shocked me. I decided to feature it here so that more people will learn about the gravity of the problem people in Sudan , especially in Darfur region, have. And hopefully spur us into action. (Click picture to enlarge.)

Vulture on the Look Out

The Photographer Who Caught the World's Attention

A Letter to Addressed to God Before He Committed Suicide

Dear God,

I promise I will never waste my food no matter how bad it can taste and how full I may be. I pray that He will protect this little boy, guide and deliver him away from his misery. I pray that we will be more sensitive towards the world around us and not be blinded by our own selfish nature and interests.

I hope this picture will always serve as a reminder to us that how fortunate we are and that we must never ever take things for granted.

Please don't break.. keep on forwarding to our friends On this good day. Let's make a prayer for the suffering in anywhere anyplace around the globe and send this friendly reminder to others "Think & look at this... when you complain about your food and the food we wasted daily........

Kevin Carter

Info on Darfur: http://www.savedarfur.org/

List of Things that Worry Me These Days

2005-07-29T08:47:00.000+08:00

1. The Philippines will be annihilated in a few days because of our selfish and greedy politicians.
2. The unabated rise of prices of basic commodities.
3. It's typhoon season, many thousands of families will be affected and rendered homeless this Christmas.
4. So many papers to write, books to read, and oh so little time.
5. Friends that I have not been seeing for years might get cold on me.
6. My family that I have not visited for months might disown me.
7. Assignments, apostolates, appointments missed, etc.

Oh my, I feel like Martha of today's Gospel. Jn 11:19-27 .

Lord, please reassure me that everything will turn out fine and that it is basically, still a beautiful world and a blessed Philippines.

God's Plans for Me and You

2005-07-27T23:41:00.000+08:00

Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines

2005-07-27T19:33:00.000+08:00

I like this poem a lot because of its poignant lyricism, sincerity and the truth it conveys. Pablo Neruda, for me, is one of the greatest poets that ever lived. I wish that someday I can create a masterpiece such as this.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her void. Her bright body. Her inifinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.

Pablo Neruda

Zen Philosophy

2005-07-25T22:52:00.000+08:00

I was surfing the net about the topic Zen Philosophy to help me understand Yukio Mishima's dense book The Temple of the Golden Pavilion. I was led to this amazing site with great explanation about the philosophy of Zen Buddhism. I posted here some stories that I really like about Zen. Please visit also the main site where I got these stories. Zen Philosophy Page

WHAT IS ZEN?

"Lightning flashes,
Sparks shower,
In one blink of your eyes,
You have missed seeing."

A Hindu story tells of a fish who asked of another fish: "I have always heard about the sea, but what is it? Where is it?"

The other fish replied: "You live, move and have your being the sea. The sea is within you and without you, and you are made of sea, and you will end in sea. The sea surrounds you as your own being."

So the only true answer to the question "What is Zen?" is the one that you find for yourself.

Empty Your Cup

A university professor went to visit a famous Zen master. While the master quietly served tea, the professor talked about Zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, and then kept pouring.

The professor watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer restrain himself.

"It's overfull! No more will go in!" the professor blurted.

"You are like this cup," the master replied, "How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup."

Holy Man

Word spread across the countryside about the wise Holy Man who lived in a small house atop the mountain. A man from the village decided to make the long and difficult journey to visit him.

When he arrived at the house, he saw an old servant inside who greeting him at the door.

"I would like to see the wise Holy Man," he said to the servant.

The servant smiled and led him inside. As they walked through the house, the man from the village looked eagerly around the house, anticipating his encounter with the Holy Man.

Before he knew it, he had been led to the back door and escorted outside. He stopped and turned to the servant,

"But I want to see the Holy Man!"

"You already have," said the old man. "Everyone you may meet in life, even if they appear plain and insignificant... see each of them as a wise Holy Man. If you do this, then whatever problem you brought here today will be solved."

The Nature of Things

Two monks were washing their bowls in the river when they noticed a scorpion that was drowning. One monk immediately scooped it up and set it upon the bank. In the process he was stung. He went back to washing his bowl and again the scorpion fell in. The monk saved the scorpion and was again stung.

The other monk asked him, "Friend, why do you continue to save the scorpion when you know it's nature is to sting?"

"Because," the monk replied, "to save it is my nature."

Save the Children

2005-07-23T20:51:00.000+08:00

This morning we gave a recollection to grade 6 students of the Ateneo de Manila. The recollection was about how to express anger constructively. I was amazed by the sincerity and honesty of the students in telling how they really feel when they get angry.

One small and chubby kid said, "I feel like a murderer when I am angry because I want to hurt people who hurt me." Another one said, "I feel like a loudspeaker when I am angry because when nobody listens to me I want to shout out real loud." And another one admitted, "I feel like a volcano about to erupt anytime when I am angry."

In today's world where men and women are seldom heard speaking the truth it is truly refreshing to witness children say things they truly feel and mean. It gives me a sense of hope that after all, we still have the children to look up to. Cynicism, skepticism and indifference sometimes cloud my judgment on the way things are going. Yet when I see kids not yet tainted by malice or greed or any political motive I am encouraged to continue hoping, continue believing that in the end, everything will turn out fine.

Perhaps, the Chinese writer Lu Xun is right when he said, it is not too late: Save the Children!

"Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them; and when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, "Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them; for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it." (Luke 18:15-17)

On Clothes Worn by Dead Jesuits

2005-07-21T22:37:00.000+08:00

There's a creepy feel to it
On wearing clothes that had been
Worn by the dead
A disquieting thought envelops you
That the owners are turning in their graves
Muttering about their favorite shirts
Or jeans or the shoes they only
Wore on Sunday afternoons

Sometimes - I sense a pair of eyes
Looking grudgingly at the shirt I'm wearing
Or have that eerie feel that ghosts still wear
The pants I love as they flap wildly
In the midday wind
Probably, the old are forgetful
or they simply never want to leave their old ways

Warm shirts, on warm nights
Coagulate with cold spirits
Pyjamas that still bear the faded
Initials of their former masters,
Or blankets that years of use have pecked
Holes on them,
Pillows that whisper
What they spied from a pious man's head,
Or handkerchiefs that wiped a thousand drop
Of tears
All bear witness to the silent tradition
That the Dead provides for the Living

But the most disturbing of all
Is the belief that the soutane I mindlessly wear
Was probably worn by at least half a dozen
Holy men

copyright © 2003
by noel yngente bava
no part of this work may be lifted or quoted without prior written permission from the author

Many Prophets Longed to See What You See

2005-07-21T07:20:00.000+08:00

Mt 13:10-17

Considering that we have the New Testament that speaks of the words and deeds of Christ. That we have books of martyrs and saints that testify to the life-transforming grace brought about by faith in Christ. That we have men and women (and children) who openly speak about how they are changed by the love of Christ. We are blessed indeed that we are not like the prophets of old who merely proclaimed the coming of the Son of God.

We feel Jesus in our hearts. We see Him in the face of the poor and the oppressed and from a dear and loving friend. We hear Him in the sounds of nature and from the eloquence of a learned man or the cry of a newborn babe. We are one with the Jesuit poet Gerard Manley Hopkins in saying that:

THE WORLD is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil

We are lucky that we never have to second-guess or wait in hopeful but agonizing anticipation of His coming. Christ' life is there for all of us to see and marvel. But not everyone of us will appreciate this truth. Some will continue to look for further signs. Some would see only contradictions among facts. And some would doubt even the proof of His life and redeeming love. Many will lead us astray.

In the confusion and chaos around us, it might be good to pause for awhile and speak to the Jesus in our hearts. In silence and solitude let us pour our hearts to Him and tell Him our concerns and worries for this day. Speak to Him of our loves and preoccupation. Speak too about our hurts and pains, trials and defeats. Converse with Him about what makes us laugh and cry.

And in the end, allow Him to speak to us. As a dear friend to another. As a father to a son. As a sister to a younger sibling. Because many prophets longed to see what we see but did not see it .

Prayer at the End of the Day

2005-07-20T23:30:00.000+08:00

Father God,

As I lay myself to sleep I recall the events of the day:
the people I met
things I did, accomplished and left undone
places I've been
words I uttered
that cheered people up
or hurt them
thoughts I entertained
both the good and the bad
and what I did with them afterwards

I recall too my experiences of pain and joy
and where they came from and where they led me

I remember faces of people I've worked with
played with, fought with, argue with and made up with
and how I bring them closer or farther away from You

I thank you for the challenges You set before me
as well as the consolations I receive from the same
I ask for forgiveness for the many times I did not respond
to Your invitation
either because I was too busy to care
or am not paying attention
or I simply don't care

I ask You to watch over me and though I'm too big for angels
I ask You to send me one tonight
To give me pleasant dreams
and keep away the evil one

So that tomorrow
when I awake, I would recall Your goodness to me
and therefore begin, a new day filled with hope, gratitude and joy.

Your Son,

The Prodigal One

Prayer At The Beginning Of The Day

2005-07-20T00:08:00.000+08:00

O God, I find myself at the beginning of another day,
I do not know what it will bring,
Please help me to be ready for whatever it may be.
If I am to stand up, help me to stand bravely.
If I am to sit still, help me to sit quietly.
If I am to lie low, help me to do it patiently
If I am to do nothing, let me do it gallantly.
I pray just for today, for these twenty-four hours,
for the ability to cooperate with others
according to the way Jesus taught us to live.
"Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven."
May these words that he taught us become more than words.
Please free my thinking and feelings
and the thinking and feelings of others,
from all forms of self-will,
--- self-centredness, dishonesty, and deception.

Along with my brothers and sisters, I need this freedom
to make my choices today according to your desires.

Send your Spirit to inspire us in time of doubt and indecision so that, together, we can walk along your path. ..... Amen.

-- adapted with thanks from an unknown source.