Jessel Gerard

Last night, I received a text message reminding me to rest. And though, I have to convince myself I need to rest, I know I have always been restless. Perhaps, I have taken too seriously many things that play like a tape in my mind: "To toil and not to seek for rest" (St. Ignatius’ Prayer for Generosity); "my heart is restless until it rests in Thee" (St. Augustine); "there is no time to waste"; "I have eternity to rest" (Pedro Arrupe SJ) and a growing desire to die at 60 — everything that I have to do in this life has to be done before it.

I remember I made a poem at 3 AM (see how restless I can be?) on March 3, 1995 at Mt. St. Paul, Pico, La Trinidad, Benguet Province. And I have recovered it this morning. It is to the restless hearts who need the assurance that despite the travails at day, the Lord as truly Father bids his children, tired from toil, to rest at night.

Ah, the stillness of night,

Every corner quiet and un-bright,

The Father has put-off the light,

And has hung the lamp in the heavens of night.

No one stirs, no one moves,

Each one’s slumber undisturbed.

T’is the time, unperturbed

To dare dreams to unfold

The wisdom of old.

Ah, the stillness of night,

The Father has bid each one ‘goodnight’.

Fear has finally fled in fright,

Each blessed and kissed in the gentlest of nights.

Finally, no enmity lies between man and beast,

Fowls and snakes, wolves and sheep,

All, in the cosmic bed, warmed to sleep,

Peace at last, Peace to keep,

Thus, to restless hearts, cease to weep.

At prayer, I have to remind myself that above everything, it is God’s work and not mine. And as Julian of Norwich said, all shall be well.

Matthew 12, 46-50: True Kinship and Friendship

This passage seems tragic: not Jesus’ nearest and dearest relatives were rejected by Jesus, saying “my mother and my brothers are those who do the will of my Father in heaven.” However, we also see that Jesus’ nearest and dearest relatives did not quite understood him. In John 7, 5, we read that “Even his brothers id not believe in him” and in Mark 3, 21, we encounter that his friends tried to restrain him, for they said that he was mad. He seemed to them that Jesus was throwing his life away with what he was doing.

Nevertheless, Jesus presents to us a practical truth: that we actually find ourselves closer to people who do not belong to our kinsfolk. The reality is that sometimes the deepest friendships are not blood relationships. They are our relationships with whoever connects with us: mind to mind, heart to heart. They are with people who share our common interests, common goals, common principles, or those who compliment them. Thus there are friends who like each other’s company because they are of opposite poles. It is in this sharing that they become truly kith and kin.

So today, let me present to you several themes and see who among your acquaintances — or relatives for that matter —- fall under people whom you can consider kith and kin. What constitutes kith and kin?

1. Family background. My friend knows something about my family background. He has visited my home, knows some of my siblings, or just heard me talk about my childhood and adolescent years. He has some understanding of why I am the way I am. Does my friend know my family history?
2. My current life situation. My friend knows what is going on in my life here and now, my joys and struggles in living everyday life, my worries and what occupies my time. Which among my friends are most familiar with my current life situation?
3. My inmost desires. My friend knows about my goals, directions and more importantly my desires as a person. As I share with him these desires, he is willing to offer encouragement, clarification, and when necessary, challenge. Which among my friends do I turn to when needing to share the deeper longings of my heart?

From St. Francis Xavier to St. Ignatius of Loyola: “Your holy Charity (Ignatius) writes to me of the great desires which you have to see me before you leave this life. God our Lord knows the impression which these words of great love made upon my soul and how many tears they cost me every time that I remember them.”

4. My negative feelings. With a friend, I am more willing to ventilate and share my negative feelings or doubts about a wide variety of matters. I feel “safe” in sharing such concerns and feelings. Whom among my friends do I trust enough to freely share my negative feelings?
5. Wishing the good of the other. I genuinely wish the good of my friend. If his “good” means our separation geographically or even his departure from my barkada, then, even though it costs me personal pain, I wish it for him. Do my actions and attitudes convey to my friend a genuine desire for what is best for him?
6. Challenge. I am more comfortable (as is my friend) when we do this with one another, since our life histories together grant permission for such mutual intrusion. To challenge in other for both of us to grow. How comfortable am I with lovingly challenge and give feedback as well as accepting challenge and feedback from my friend?
7. Positive feelings. The predominant feeling emanating from this friendship is positive: a friend stirs in my feelings of joy and gratitude. In turn, my positive feelings become my motivating factors that energize my endeavors, my studies, my other relationships. Do my positive feelings when experiencing this friendship leave me more grateful for my life?
8. Discreet silence. Just as we might know what to say to a friend, we also know what not to say. Part of friendship is an awareness of what need not be mentioned or discussed. This is totally different from the common notion that one becomes a friend unless one shares “everything” and “every little secret.” When with my friend, do I have an intuitive sense of what not to say as wells as of what to say? Do I abstain from raising certain issues that need not be mentioned at that time, and perhaps need best to postpone it some other time when my friend is ready for it?
9. Disclosing personal secrets. My friend knows things about my life that are reserved for a select few. What do I share with my friend? Do I know him as well as I would like to? Are there areas we avoid speaking about?
10. Spiritual life. We engage is spiritual conversation, encourage one another to speak of matters that concern faith and the longings of our souls that includes each other’s spiritual struggles and desires. This friendship enriches my solitude, for it leads me to be more self-aware and creative about my life and desires. With whom in my numerous friends can I share my spiritual life? How am I different now because of this friend of mine?

In sum, the notion of friendship is an extraordinarily rich one. Ultimately, they must be experienced and risked in the daily ins and outs of our lives, lives that incorporate and share our joys, hurts, hopes and sorrows of being human. There is reason why Jesus calls us his friends, his “mother and brothers and sisters to him.” St. Robert Southwell SJ once wrote as follows:

“If you love a friend so much, if he or she is so attractive that everything he asks of you, you would agree to; and if it is so sweet to sit and talk with him, describe your mishaps to him— then with ho much more trust should you betake yourself to God, the God of goodness, converse with him, show him your weakness and distress, for he has greater care of you that you have of yourself, indeed he is more intimately you than you are.”

St.

Robert Southwell SJ affirms that there is indeed something in our experience of friendship that brings us closer to the Lord, for every experience of friendship provides us with a taste of heaven — just as Jesus said, “whoever does the will of the Father is brother, sister and friend to me.”

Luke 8, 19-21: Kinship in the Eyes of God

         In our lives, there is a point when we face the dilemma of choosing between what our parents want us to be and what we want ourselves to become. Parents insist that what they want is what is best for us, considering that many of us are not mature enough to decide on our own. They insist out of their fear that we will go astray, and that they do not want us to go through their struggles. On the other hand, we need to find ourselves and find our place in the greater scheme of things. The road that each of us have taken, regardless of what others want us to be, is the road that God wills us to be.

         The Gospel today gives us a basis for any decision. There is no doubt that Christ is close to his mother and to his relatives. However there is a greater truth than this: that what makes us brothers and sisters is our status as God’s adopted children. What makes us one is that Jesus shed his blood in order for us to be God’s adopted ones. Let me explain this further by taking the following excerpt from Fr. Bausch’s stories.

There is a book written by the television chef, Jeff Smith, with the unusual title, The Frugal Gourmet on Food and Theology: Keeps the Feast. This book contains a most memorable discussion of how the shedding of Christ’s blood reconciles us to God. Smith says he learned it from a shepherd. It has to do with what he calls “the blood of adoption.” He writes:

“In the morning a shepherd awakes to find that a ewe has given birth to a lamb…and the lamb has died. In another portion of his flock the shepherd finds another ewe that gave birth during the night and the mother died! So, the shepherd has a childless mother on the one hand, and the mother will probably die of a broken heart. On the other hand he has an orphan. All logic tells him to put the orphan with the childless mother. Should work, shouldn’t it? It will not work, not at all, as the mother knows the lamb is not hers, and the lamb [itself] is confused and starving.

“The old prophets and the old shepherds,” says Smith, “saw in this regular event in their flock a perfect image of our relationship to God. We are so alienated from one another that we are dying from starvation and God is dying of a broken heart. But one thing can be done and only one. If the shepherd [takes] the dead lamb and drains [its] blood, he can then wash the orphan in the blood of the [dead] lamb, and the mother, smelling her own, immediately moves so that the orphan may suckle. In other words, the orphan is brought to table and to life by its adoption through the blood. The early Scriptures promised that a Messiah would come and be the lamb by which we were brought to an intimate relationship with God.”

We become one when we all “hear the word of God and do it” as the Gospel tells us. Fr. Archie Intengan SJ, our former Provincial, said it briefly: we belong to our families, we belong to our friends, but above all, we belong to God. God has dreams for each of us, uniquely for us. Thus, above all, it is what God wills for us that we should seek. God’s dream is that in our own unique way, we will be part in the building of God’s Kingdom and at the same time living our lives fully. If God’s will for us is what our parents want, then off we go. If God’s will for us is what we want ourselves, then we set aside what our parents insist, and despite the pain that goes with it, we set off towards it. God said, “I know the plan I have in mind for you… plans for peace, not disaster; reserving a future full of hope for you… When you seek me you shall find me; when you seek me with all your heart, I will let you find me. It is the Lord who speaks.” (Jeremiah 29, 11-13).

Matthew 20:1-16: The Workers in the Vineyard

25th Sunday in Ordinary Time

A few things have to be said about the Gospel today. 1) Matthew only has this parable; 2) The vineyard owner normally goes to the market place only once, to hire the day’s laborers; on average, he hires all the manpower he needs for the day. 3) The structure of the story is a literary device to show a progressive contrast between the morning and the evening laborers, therefore, providing the setting for the story.

            The point of the Gospel is simple. Just as a vineyard owner who hires laborers at different hours and times of the day and gives the same full salary to all, God rewards the

Kingdom

of

God

to all even to the latecomers. This is in contrast with what we know about justice: salaries are paid according to the labor rendered, and the hours spent at work.

This is very consoling to all those who think that it is too late to change. This parable is an encouragement to all Christians and a good thing to remember: God is concerned about the latecomers. The gesture of generosity comes from the love and kindness God himself.

And on our part, we do not seek a reward for every good thing we do; doing and serving God is itself the reward. This is easy to understand when you love someone. The lover— that is you — does not ask for a reward for all the good things you do for the one you love. Serving the beloved is pleasurable and enjoyable. The beloved himself or herself is the reward. This is what the happy prince did. His pleasure is giving out what he has to those he loved: the people in his city.

The Happy Prince. In The Happy Prince, Oscar Wilde’s classic tale, the happy prince is nothing more than an exquisite statue gilded over with gold leaf, standing on a pedestal high above the city. He looked down upon it with his blue sapphire eyes and guarded his domain with his sword in which was embedded a priceless ruby.

One night, a small lost swallow landed wearily at the prince’s feet to rest. But before he could fall asleep, he felt a cascade of water pouring down on him. He looked up and saw that it was the happy prince crying. For the prince could see from his lofty perch a sick child begging his mother for an orange, while his poor mother worked with bleeding fingers embroidering the gown of a rich woman. “Swallow,” said the prince, “please stay with me. Stay with me tonight and be my messenger. The boy is so thirsty and the mother is so sad.” The bird agreed and, following the prince’s instructions, took the ruby from the sword and dropped it on the table next to the thimble of the woman.

The next day the prince saw a young writer in his garret, which was so cold that his fingers, were frozen and he could not write to finish his play. So the happy prince had the swallow pluck out one of his sapphire eyes, and flies it to the young playwright. The next day it was a little match girl whose matches had fallen into the water. She would sell none and her father would beat her severely. Again, the prince had the swallow bring his other sapphire eye to her.

At this point the swallow knew that he could not leave the sightless prince alone, and so he stayed to act as his eyes and to pull off, one piece at a time, the gold leaf from his body to bring to all those who were hurting. Finally, one freezing day, the prince was completely stripped of all his riches. He had given everything–his ruby, his sapphires, his gold leaf. The swallow, too, had given his all. The bitter cold that he should have left long ago got to him. In a last effort he flew up to the prince’s lips, kissed them, and fell dead at his feet. At that moment, the leaden heart of the happy prince snapped in two.

Finally, the townspeople, disgusted at the eyesore that the statue had become, tore it down, and melted it in a blast furnace. But the broken lead heart refused to melt, so the townspeople picked it up and tossed it beside the body of the dead swallow.

Looking down on earth, God said to one of his angels, “Bring me the two most precious things in that city.” The angel returned with the leaden heart and the dead swallow. “You have chosen rightly,” said God, “for in my

garden

of

Paradise

the little bird shall sing forevermore, and in my city of gold, the happy prince shall praise me.”

St. Ignatius has a very good prayer that brings this point clearly: that working for God, knowing that we are doing what God wills for us, is itself the reward. It is a prayer for generosity.

Prayer for Generosity

Lord, teach us to be generous.

Teach us to serve you as you deserve

To give and not to count the cost.

To fight and not to heed the wounds.

To toil and not to seek for rest.

To labor and not to ask for reward.

Save that of knowing, that I do Your most holy will.

Luke 2, 27-35: The Prophecy of Simeon

Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows

            Our “Simeons” come upon us as unexpectedly as Mary’s. They come with equally harsh news and the inherent understanding that we will suffer in some way because of what has been announced to us. We don’t want the news any more that Mary did. We don’t deserve it, but our Simeons appear anyway and with them come struggle and suffering. Our Simeon prophecies usually enter into our lives abruptly, suddenly, and without warning. These announcements shock, surprise, remove us from our comfort zones, and blast our reality with grief, pain and turmoil.

            Many of us experienced a “Simeon announcement” of some sort. In the midst of a life that is going reasonable well, suddenly the doctor’s prognosis of a serious illness, a letter telling of a job ending, the family member sharing a dark secret for years, the boyfriend/girlfriend declaring separation, the child insisting of a decision totally contradictory to a parent’s dream, a closing of a bank account. I have my own “Simeon announcement”: the radio announcement that my father died when I was in the hinterlands of Bukidnon, the phone call that my mom is in the hospital, the exam results when I failed.

            Sometimes our “Simeons” come from an internal rather than an external source. Our intuition, dreams and consciences are voices that can give us messages of a future sorrow. Some have an inkling that a family member died. A friend of mine was uneasy one day, and couldn’t put her mind in the work she was doing. She felt something was wrong and she could not put a finger on it. Later during that day, her boyfriend had an accident. They said that when two people genuinely love each other, they feel what the other is feeling even without a word, even at a distance. All of these Simeon announcements in our lives come inevitably and there is no way for us to prepare ourselves for the sorrow it will bring.

            What does this announcement do to us? I guess the these bad news come, we become aware of how fleeting our peace and happiness is, how fragile our security, and how vulnerable our life can be. When we are faced with the coming of sorrow, we know that we do not actually control life. It is normal that our initial reaction is fear, anger, disbelief, sadness, emptiness, etc. Often we are stunned and we could not believe it. When my father died, I do not know what I was feeling. I went through the funeral numb and “devoid of feeling”— since I am the eldest, I instantly became the “father of the family”. During the entire wake, I was the manager; I was not the “son”. It took me weeks and months, before the reality sank, before I really began to mourn my father’s death.

            In the film, Good Will Hunting, the wise therapist says to Bill, the young man who was hurting: “Bad things draw our attention to the good things we’ve overlooked.” When a life situation or event springs upon us and predicts future turmoil, what we value in life suddenly because sweeter, dearer, and precious to us. When I receive my first phone call that my mom was in the hospital, I suddenly yearned to spend more time with her and with brothers and sisters. The father of a close friend of mine who had a son who is autistic once said to me, that it was his son who made the family whole. When we become depressed and empty, we yearn for the joy we have assumed and taken for granted each day. When someone whom we love leaves us, we suddenly realize how much we love them, and we regret that we have not spent time we them. Thus the foretelling of a sorrow, the Simeons in our lives is a warning call: “Attend to it! Notice it! Look! Appreciate! Affirm!” Beyond the shocking news and the sorrowful consequence comes the invitation to be grateful for what we already have, and to treasure them. I believe when Mary stood at the foot of the cross sharing in Jesus’ suffering, it is the memory of being together that holds them close, not giving up hope, and standing stronger than ever.

The Feast of our Lady of Sorrows then, is celebration of the precious things we value: love and life! Let us value them before it is too late.

Matthew 18, 21- 30 On Forgiveness

Mateo 18, 21-35

            Marami sa atin ang naghahanap ng isang ugnayan na magpakailanman.   Sa mga love letters, hindi mo makakaligtaan ang mga katagang: sana tayo pa rin hanggang kamatayan.  O sa mga magkakaibigan, parating may pangarap na kahit magkahiwalay, ang layo ay hindi magiging hadlang sa tunay na pagmamahalan.  Ang minimithing samahang walang hanggang ay isang paraisong walang awayan, walang tampuhan, walang samaan ng loob, walang pansamantalang paghihiwalay; isang paraisong alam nating lahat na wala sa lupa.   Wala sa mundong ito.

            Ito ang konteksto ng ebanghelio ngayon ayon kay Mateo.  Ang tanong ni Pedro kay Jesus, "Panginoon, makailan kong patatawarin ang aking kapatid na paulit-ulit na nagkakasala sa akin?   

            Tatlong bagay ang ating makikita sa tanong ni Pedro.   

            Unang una, ang nagkakasala ay isang kapatid.  Isang malapit na ugnayan.  Kapatid. Kaibigan, Ka-ibigan. Paano ko patatawarin ang isang minamahal?  Wika nga, ang pinakamalalim na sugat ay yaong sugat ng ini-irog.  Mas nasasaktan tayo kapag ang nagkakasala ay ang taong nakaukit sa ating mga puso.

            Pangalawa, ang kasalanan ay hindi lamang makaisa gawin, kundi palagi.  Hindi lang maminsan-minsan, kundi paulit-ulit.  At kung madalas gawin, di mas lalong malalim ang sugat.  At kung tayo ay nasasaktan ng madalas, at paulit-ulit, lumalabas tayong duguan, taga-taga, luray-luray. 

            At madalas kung gaano kalalim ang sugat, ganoon din ang lakas at bugso ng galit.   At hindi iba na sa atin ang damdaming ito: sa galit, nagdidilim ang ating isip, nawawala ang tamang pag-iisip.   Sa mga pahayagan, ang kadalasang panagmumulan ng krimen, ng pagpapatayan ay isang maliit na pinagtatalunan, pinag-aawayan.   Maliit na  pagtatalo na nauuwi sa barilan.   

            At tayo rin, sa ating mga isip, kung makakapatay lang ang ating iniisip, ang kagalit ay patay na.  Pinatay na natin sa ating isip.   Mahal ang galit: ang mga taong nagpadala sa galit, nagbabayad ng buhay.   Hindi lamang sa bilangguan, kundi sa konsyensya. 

            Pangatlo, sa likod ng tanong ni Pedro, makikita natin ang isa pang tanong: Ano ang aking gagawin upang ang ugnayan naming magkapatid sa dugo, sa pananampalataya, o sa pagkakaibigan, ay manatili pagpakailanman; sa kabila ng paulit-ulit na pagkakasala?  Hanggang makapito ba?  Tapos, hindi ko na patatawarin.

            IIsa ang sagot ni Hesus: "pitumpung ulit pa nito."  Sa panahon ni Hesus, ang numerong pito, No. 7 ay numero ng "magpakailanman."   Kung ang pagpapatawad ay pitumpung uulitin, ibig sabihin, ang kapatawaran ay walang-hanggan.  Paulit-ulit mang gagawin.  Malalim man ang sugat. 

            Sa tanong ni Pedro, "Ano ang aking gagawin upang ang samahan namin ay maging magpakailanman?"  Iisa ang sagot ni Hesus, "Patatawarin mo siyang magpakailan man."  Paulit-ulit.  Bawat sandali.  Bawat oras ng pagkakasala.

            Ngunit isang babala: hindi ibig sabihin na palalampasin na lamang ang sama ng loob, ang galit.  Kung minamaltrato ka ng asawa mo, hahayaan mo na lang ba dahil sabi ni Hesus, patawarin magpakailanman?  Ang kapatawaran ay hindi pang-aalipin.  Ang pagpapatawad naka-ukit sa dangal ng tao.   Dahil ang utos na magpatawad ng kapwa nanggagaling sa Diyos na unang nagpatawad sa taong may dangal.

            Pag-usapan nang magkaunawaan. Ito ang sikreto ng malalim na samahan:

            Ang galit huwag sanang maging hadlang sa pagmamahalan.