Jessel Gerard

Matthew 11, 25-30 St. Francis of Assisi

One day a devil decided to close his shop and sell all his tools, except for one. He sold laziness. He also sold lying and the rest of his tools, except for discouragement.

One of his fellow devils asked him why he chose to keep discouragement as his only tool.

He said that if he ever decided to open his shop again, all he would need was discouragement to lead people to all other kinds of sin. “Once a person is discouraged,” he said, “it follows that he will stop praying, he won’t bother about trying to be patient, he won’t mind gossiping, and if life becomes challenging and many things fail, he would lose hope.”

The devil knew all this because he is the most discouraged of all. He has lost companionship with God forever and he wants as many people as possible to join him in his misery, and he knows that discouragement is the fast road to misery.

For all of you who are graduating this semester, or for many who are finishing the requirements and taking the final exams, do not listen to discouragement. When the devil asks for a ride, do not let him. He will want to drive you as well.

In today’s gospel, Jesus says to us, “Come to me, all you are weary and find life burdensome, and I will refresh you.” Thus, come to the Lord if you’re tired and need rest. Take a break. If we can spend a few moments with a friend at a coffee shop when are done with work, take the Lord out with you too. Nothing is more needed today than this rest of body, mind and spirit. We live in a world that exhausting and controlling, manipulative and straining, anxiously hurrying and running out of time. St. Francis of

Assisi

has found delight and rest in the beauty of nature: the birds of the air, and the flowers of the fields. And we are asked to stop for awhile and delight in the flowers.

God gives us several ways to rest. Every week, Sunday is the time when we are made to realize that we need to rest in God. No longer do we take things into our own hands. Rather we place all things into divine hands; Sunday teaches us that we actually do not control our lives and thus it is a day of trusting in God. When we spend Sunday with those who matter to us, do not think of work. Second, we can go into hesychia. Hesychia is the Greek word for rest; and hesychasm refers to the spirituality of the desert fathers and mothers in the old days. In the desert, they spend their days in solitude. However, we do know this is difficult since we have our work, families, and social responsibilities. But we can experience hesychia by scheduling some time off from everything. Just like a spa experience, a half-day per semester for example. Finally, we can go on occasional recollection. Recollection means focus. It means tranquility of mind, heart and soul. We can cultivate a life of reflection. We can wrestle with existence clarification — who we are and what our purpose for being is. We can take a private retreat just to consider our direction in life. All these ways to pray for rest keep us from discouragement and refocuses us to what is true of us. It is good to know that when we rest, the eternal Lord keeps praying for us too. It is in fact why the first prayer often taught to children is the “Angel of God.” It is the prayer that we adults should continue to pray because we forget that God is always at our side, as we rest, refreshing us.

Jesus encourages us who are beginning to be discouraged to come to him for a “coffee shot”. He will energize us, so that once more, prayer, patience, determination, hope and other virtues will be worthwhile to us.

Matthew 21:33-43 The Vineyard Owner

Today, I want to focus on the violence the Gospel contains: the servants and the vineyard owner’s son were brutalized and killed. This is, as you sadly know, a timely topic. Violence forms the subtext of our daily lives. Nations, peoples, individuals of all ages–even kids–are routinely hurting, damaging, and killing one another. It has all become so commonplace that we hardly pay attention anymore.

What is behind this proliferation of violence in our world? I want to suggest that part of it is a shocking lack of empathy for other people, for the victims, an inability to feel what those who are hurt or dying are feeling. We lack empathy and we hurt and kill others because we have divided the world into “us” and “them”. For Jesus, there was no “us” and “them,” no blacks and whites, no gay and straight, no Jew and Samaritan. Jesus taught that our neighbor is everyone–especially everyone who is in pain. We must understand and appreciate his or her pain. Yet more and more, especially among the young, a sense of empathy is evaporating. With this loss comes an inability to be compassionate. And when there is no empathy and no compassion, there is easy violence.

So, here is a question: where does this lack of empathy come from, people doing horrible things? A large part of it is the media, which is, as you know, a powerful influence on how kids develop empathy as a basis for morality. We see this most prominently in the message of most advertising: anything goes. And if anything goes, then nothing counts. We see this attitude everywhere; “whatever”, “kahit ano” are its common expression. The media celebrates being “cool.” You are in control. You show power. You don’t show emotion when someone is dying or when all things around you are in confusion. You’re cool. “Ma at Pa at we (short for malay ko at pakialam ko at e ano ngayon!) Filipino masculinity or femininity has it that to show strength in the midst of life’s storms, one must not cry because it is a sign of witness. In promoting this type of attitude, the media consistently and routinely promotes desensitization, the opposite of empathy. And if one looks closely, by not crying for example, we violate our natural way of healing, we become alienated from ourselves. We desensitize ourselves from our very self. Violence begins with us. And thus, after the umpteenth murder, how much can you feel for the victim? It is estimated that the average child witnesses over 200,000 acts of violence on television by the time he or she is eighteen years old.

Sanayan lang pagpatay (You can get used to killing!). Lieutenant Colonel Dave Grossman is an Army expert on the psychology of killing. Throughout his Army career, Grossman’s job was to condition soldiers how to kill. He said that killing is a learned skill because there is an innate resistance to it. How did they do it? Grossman outlined the process. In the first step, the men are brutalized at boot camp. Their heads are shaved and they are herded together, naked. Then they are all dressed alike. In this way, they begin to lose all individuality and become desensitized to violence. In student organizations, initiations look like this: they are whipped by a paddle, so that in the end when they become officially members, they do it to the new ones.

The second step used by the Army is classic conditioning. Grossman pointed out that our kids watch vivid pictures of human suffering and death. They see graphic depictions of stabbings, kicking in the groin and head, vomit, blood, and decapitations and they learn to associate all this with their favorite soft drink or candy bar which immediately pops up on the TV screen during the endless commercials. The success of this conditioning can be observed when you go to the movies. Listen to ourselves laugh and cheer when there is bloody violence and someone is painfully hurt or gruesomely dying. They keep right on eating Nova chips. Empathy, feeling for the victim, is a non-issue, a non-emotion. Violence becomes entertainment.

The third step in making soldiers killers is deploying what is called “operant conditioning.” This means that one no longer shoots at a bull’s-eye in a neutral round paper or straw target, but at realistic, human-shaped targets. Now think about this: in the video games, the kids do exactly the same thing and therefore get the same “operant conditioning.” They shoot at lifelike figures. Grossman commented, “It came as no surprise to me when I read that the two shooters in the

Littleton

massacre had allegedly been avid players of Doom slayers, two popular computer games full of realistic violence in which players stalk their opponents through dungeon-like environments to kill them with high-powered weapons.” One video game has the player kill children. The only way to exit this game is to put the simulated gun in your mouth and pull the trigger.

The fourth and last component in training killers is role models, that is, the drill sergeant who personifies violence and aggression. And who are the role models for our young people today? During my time it was Sylvester Stallone, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and Robin Padilla.

We, as a culture, are conditioned to violence. Our children are conditioned to violence. What it needs is a return to Jesus’ teaching: there is no “us” and “them.” Put into the words of his disciple,

St. Paul

: “There is neither male nor female, Gentile nor Jew, slave nor free. All are one in Christ.” When we, like Mother Teresa, can look into the face of a victim and see Christ, violence will cease. Bear with me as I close with the words of the great Russian poet, Yevgeny Yevtushenko:

In 1941, Mama took me back to

Moscow

. There I saw our enemies for the first time. If my memory serves me right, nearly 20,000 German war prisoners were to be marched in a single column through the streets of

Moscow

. The pavement swarmed with onlookers, cordoned off by police and soldiers. The crowd was mostly women. Every one of them must have had a father or a husband, a brother or a son killed by the Germans. They gazed with hatred in the direction in which the column was to appear. At last we saw it.

The generals marched at the head, massive chins stuck out, lips pursed disdainfully, their whole demeanor meant to show superiority over their plebeian victims. The women were clenching their fists. The soldiers and policemen had all they could do to hold them back….All at once something happened to them. They saw the German soldiers, thin, unshaven, wearing dirty, blood-stained bandages, hobbling on crutches or leaning on the shoulders of their comrades. The soldiers walked with their heads down. The street became dead silent. The only sound was the shuffling of boots, the thumping of crutches.

Then I saw an elderly woman in broken-down boots push herself forward and touch a policeman’s shoulder saying, “Let me through.” Something about her made him step aside. She went up to the column, took from inside her coat something wrapped in a colored handkerchief, and unfolded it. It was a crust of black bread. She pushed it awkwardly into the pocket of a soldier so exhausted that he was tottering on his feet. And now, suddenly from every side, women were running towards the soldiers, pushing into their hands bread, cigarettes, whatever they had. The soldiers were no longer enemies. They were people.

When the women saw the men hobbling through the streets, they were no longer the enemy; they were no longer those who killed their relatives. They were just victims, and the women felt for them. There was an outpouring of empathy and compassion. The violence they intended was no longer in their hearts.

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.   

Matthew 16, 13-23: Who is Jesus?

Jesus in the Gospel asks His disciples two things. First, who is He according to other people? The disciples naturally answer Him that people think He is John the Baptist, or Elijah, or one of the prophets. The second is crucial: Who is He according to His disciples? And it was Peter’s proclamation that He is the "Son of God" that satisfied Jesus. It is Peter’s answer that made Jesus call Peter, the Rock. "And upon this Rock, I will build my Church."

We take our lesson from here. It is thus clear that a strong faith foundation in Jesus is based on who Jesus is to us. How we know Jesus, and who is Jesus to us, will determine how we live our faith and how we practice our faith. Thus, the knowledge of Jesus will determine the quality of our love for Him, and the quality of service we render for Him. For example, if Jesus is a friend to us, then our love for Jesus is that of a friend, and our service of Jesus is based on good friendship. A case in point: The case of Moses. In Exodus 33:11, we read that "the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, as one speaks to a friend." And in another place, God chides the Israelites for their anger at Moses by saying: "Hear my words, when there are prophets among you, I the Lord make myself known to them by visions; I speak to them in dreams. Not so with my servant Moses; he is entrusted with all my house. With him, I speak face to face — clearly, not in riddles; and he beholds the form of the Lord" (Numbers 12, 6-8). Friendship is not an image only: Jesus Himself clears our relationship with Him: "You are no longer slaves but my friends." Jesuits live under this image: we call ourselves, Compañia de Jesus, and our relationship among ourselves is described as "friends in the Lord." This relationship of friendship determines how we love each other and how we serve others. The song "Day by Day" in the hit musical Godspell, is similar to St. Ignatius’ desire in the second week of the Spiritual Exercises, "to know Thee more clearly, love Thee more dearly, follow Thee more closely" day by day. To know our Friend, to love our Friend, to follow our Friend.

And thus, we look at who Jesus is to us. And we can know who Jesus is by praying. Once I directed young people in their retreat. One of them left me a note which says, "I do want to pray, father, but it is also the last thing I want to do." It is indeed true to all of us: in the very depths of our hearts, we yearn for God, and yet, we are afraid that is why it is the last thing we want to do. Because when we plunge ourselves in prayer, we know that we are not anymore in control of our lives — God is. And we are not used to it. Rudolph Otto describes our encounter with God as a mysterium tremendum et fascinans, a mystery which evokes holy awe (tremendum) but which also fascinates (fascinans). The very God who awes us also draws us. It is like encountering a movie star: we are fascinated by the movie star’s presence, but we are afraid to approach him — not that we are shy, but we just do not know what to say. The Psalmist says, "My soul longs, indeed it faints for the courts of the Lord; my heart and my flesh sing for joy to the Living God" (Psalm 84). And when we pray to God, we listen and we hear the words, "Fear not." It is the same words God has spoken to our great biblical leaders: to Daniel, to Gideon, to our very own Mary when the angel announced the coming of the Savior.

Our experience tells us that the closer we are to God, the better off we are. Do not be afraid to pray; do not be afraid to know God. I guess the best way is to look at the deepest meaning of the fairy tale, Beauty and the Beast, which tells of the fear of the human heart before God. God, like the Beast, wants us to know him as love, but we, like Beauty, are terrified by his size and what seems to us God’s anger at us, who are sinners. If we allow God to come close to us, if we kiss the Beast, we will find that he is only love and delights in us and in our love. St. Teresa of Avila expresses this desire:

If, Lord, Thy love for me is strong

As this which binds me unto Thee,

What holds me from Thee, Lord, so long,

What holds Thee, Lord, so long from me,

O soul, what then desirest Thou?

— Lord, I would see, who thus choose Thee.

What fears can yet assail Thee now?

— All that I fear is to love Thee.

Love’s whole possession I entreat,

Lord, make my soul Thine own abode,

And I will build a nest so sweet

It may not be too poor for God.

O soul in God hidden from sin,

What more desires for Thee remain,

Save but to love, and love again,

And all on flame with love within,

Love on, and turn to love again.

Who is Jesus to you? Will you love Jesus on and on and on? Will you love Him again and again and again? And upon your relationship with Jesus will He build His Church.