I think I've seen this film before
And I didn't like the ending
You're not my homeland anymore
So what am I defending now?
You were my town, now I'm in exile, seein' you out
3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, 2018 Readings Jonah 3:1-5,10; Psalm 24(25):4-6,7b-9; 1 Corinthians 7:29-31; Mark 1:14-20
Love bids us to let go of all else and to cling to whom we love. Love entails sacrifice. But unlike other loves in which what is let go is lost, in loving God our love for each other and the world is redeemed. We are invited to think not so much of what we have lost and what we shall gain in return. We are invited not to think through the logic of economics, but in the mystery of love.
We know that since the beginning of space-time, the universe has been expanding at a certain rate. For about thirty years now, physicists have alerted us to the fact that there is an acceleration in this expansion, such that galaxies are drawing away from each other at an increasing rate. Scientists hypothesise that this expansion is due to an unobservable entity called ‘dark energy’. What this means is that it is conceivable that as humans gaze up to the skies in the future, they will not be able to see any other stars other than the stars in our own galaxy, the Milky Way. Our night sky will one day be less luminous, more lonely. Future scientists gazing up at the night sky will have less information about the universe than we do now, much less data to understand the origins of our universe. In a recent interview, the astro-physicist Neil deGrasse Tyson said that this thought, that the universe is passing away from our horizon, keeps him up at night.
The universe as we know it is passing away. Scriptural scholars tell us that the early Christians had this sense of the ‘imminent parousia’, that is that they had the belief that Christ’s second coming was imminent, and with it the end of the world. We get a sense of that in our second reading today, where Paul exhorts the Christian community not to be attached to all that is in and of the world — commerce, affections, persons. Paul’s advise to them is not to become engrossed with it, because as he says, the world as we know it is passing away. And so, Paul advocates a spirit of detachment from that which passes, in order to cling to that which endures.
This is good advice. Do not set your heart on what does not last: riches or honour. These will soon pass, and if we cling to them, we might find that like sand, it swiftly runs from our grasp. While detachment to what is material in the world is a necessary attitude, this does not explain the almost callous way in which Paul speaks of indifference to other persons, in our reading, an indifference to one’s spouse. Is it truly the Christian way to be so unattached to the people in our lives?
There is a sense of heightening intensity in learning to let go in our Gospel reading today. The first group, Simon and Andrew, we are told leave their nets. The second group, the sons of Zebedee, not only leave their nets, but their father too. However, there is a marked difference from the detachment that comes out of the insight that the world is passing away. Here, the reason for letting go, in its specific Christian sense, is intimated to us. And at once they left their nets and followed him … He called them at once and, leaving their father Zebedee in the boat with the men he employed, they went after him. The reason these disciples let go is because Jesus has called them to follow him. The reason for letting go is Jesus’ love.
Love bids us to let go of all else and to cling to whom we love. Love entails sacrifice. But unlike other loves in which what is let go is lost, in loving God our love for each other and the world is redeemed. We are invited to think not so much of what we have lost and what we shall gain in return. We are invited not to think through the logic of economics, but in the mystery of love. It is this same mystery which we commemorate each time we approach this altar of life — it is the mystery of Jesus’ sacrifice of love for us, a love that does not go to waste even in death, but is resurrected, redeemed by the love of God the Father, the Spirit of Love.
We participate in this mystery of love so often in our lives. When a parent lets go of a child in order that they might find their way; both parent and child participate in this love. When a spouse makes a sacrifice in order that the one they love might follow a dream; both of them participate in this love. When we make some sacrifice in order to follow Christ in truth and in mercy; we participate in this love.
Our Gospel reading today, at the start of our liturgical calendar, leaves us in suspended animation. It only tells us that Jesus calls us in love to follow him. We know where this narrative will take us, i.e. to the cross and resurrection. Perhaps not every question is answered just now. We might not yet know how it is that what and whom we let go is redeemed. But for now, we are invited only to rest in his love and to hear his call.
As we have heard these stories of calling, we might spend some time in silence to get in touch with Jesus’ call to each us. What then is preventing me from following him more nearly?
8 But if I go to the east, he is not there; if I go to the west, I do not find him.
9 When he is at work in the north, I do not see him; when he turns to the south, I catch no glimpse of him.
10 But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.
11 My feet have closely followed his steps; I have kept to his way without turning aside.
12 I have not departed from the commands of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.
13 But he stands alone, and who can oppose him? He does whatever he pleases.
14 He carries out his decree against me, and many such plans he still has in store.
15 That is why I am terrified before him; when I think of all this, I fear him.
16 God has made my heart faint; the Almighty has terrified me.
17 Yet I am not silenced by the darkness, by the thick darkness that covers my face.
8th Sunday of Ordinary Time, 2017 Isaiah 49:14-15; Psalm 61:2-3,6-9; 1 Corinthians 4:1-5; Matthew 6:24-34
Why not learn to live a little more carefree, a little more confident that God indeed can and will provide for more than we can hope for.
I. In just a few days time, we will enter the season of Lent. I’m sure that some of you, if not many, have given thought to what it is you will fast from this Lent. Perhaps some of you will give up some kind of food, kick a bad habit or do some other kind of penance. When I was growing up, my parents would encourage us to do something like that. I remember a year when we decided to give up meat altogether for forty days. My parents could also be quite severe: objecting to any kind of music being played on Ash Wednesday or Good Friday, which I thought was the most cruel kind of penance.While I think Catholic education is good in instilling this idea of fasting from something, we are not very good in emphasizing that we are also fasting for something. We fast from something in order that we might learn to appreciate life as gift from God and perhaps by denying ourselves of what we need to live we might learn to desire what matters: i.e. a life lived in deep recognition of God’s love for us.
II. Reading our Gospel, I wonder if Jesus is suggesting something that might be good for all of us to fast from this Lent. Fast from worry! Give up being anxious about so many things for forty days. We are so prone to worry are we not? We worry if we will succeed in our ventures, in work or at school. We worry if we will be liked by our friends, our partners. We worry about the wellbeing of people whom we love. Some of us even worry about worrying too much!If this is going to be our Lenten program, we need to learn how to stop worrying. The first step that Jesus suggests to us is to understand the futility of worrying. Jesus invites us to consider what we see in nature. Birds, flowers, do not toil or spin, yet God provides for all. Nature is cared for by God. Jesus says: Are you not worth much more than they are? Can any of you, for all his worrying, add one single cubit to his span of life? Since worrying cannot help us acquire that which we need, why not give it up. Why not learn to live a little more carefree, a little more confident that God indeed can and will provide for more than we can hope for.This then is what we need to learn, for unlike birds and flowers who cannot worry (I think!), we need to learn to trust, which is the second step in learning to stop worrying. Trust is that movement that runs counter to that of worry. We have heard Jesus say that we are worth far more than birds and the flowers in the field. Indeed we are. Why worry about if we will succeed or not if we trust that God is indeed the master of our lives, that God helps us through good and bad, directing us towards happiness in God alone? Why worry if we will be liked or if we are good enough if we trust that God loves us deeply and gazes on us as as one whom God considers to be beautiful and good?Our first reading uses language designed to shock us that we might learn to understand this most important reality. In response to the complaint, the worry of the people of Zion, who have learnt to believe that God has forgotten them God says:Does a woman forget her baby at the breast, or fail to cherish the son of her womb? Yet even if these forget, I will never forget you.Even if that shocking and impossible thing happens, when a mother forgets her own child, God will never forget. On the palms of God’s own hands are engraved our own names. We are—our needs, our wants, our desires—continually before God. Only if we learn to trust in the goodness of God can we learn to stop worrying.As our second reading indicates, we will not stop worrying if we only look to our own selves. St Paul says to the church at Corinth: People must think of us as Christ’s servants, stewards entrusted with the mysteries of God. This then is third step, we must learn to serve others. There are many in our world who are justifiably worried about food and clothing—millions of refugees, hundreds of thousands of people in starvation. What would it mean if we stopped worrying about our food and clothing while others die from malnutrition and neglect. We are to stop worrying, but never to stop caring.
III. My dear friends, what are you worried about right now? Is there a nagging doubt, a worry that is eating you up inside? Let’s take a few moments to speak to God about whatever it is that gives us worry and to ask for the grace that we might learn to trust and to serve. Mark Aloysius, SJ Homily for the Jesuit Young Adult Ministry at Farm Street, London.
2nd Sunday of Advent, 2016 Readings Isaiah 11:1-10; Psalm 71:1-2,7-8,12-13,17; Romans 15:4-9; Matthew 3:1-12
St Paul says that we are to be reminded, to learn about hope, from the examples scripture gives of how people who did not give up were helped by God. Don’t give up! God has been, is, will be help for you! How important to remember that especially as we have this terrible instinct of wanting to flee from anything that is difficult or that demands hard work.
I. I wonder if some of you have made it to the Caravaggio exhibition here at the National Gallery. There is a painting there, on loan from the National Gallery of Ireland, that has an interesting Jesuit connection. The Taking of Christ by Caravaggio hung for many years in the dining room of the Jesuit community in Dublin since the 1930’s. However, no one knew that that painting that hung there in their own home was a masterpiece. Imagine that! The Jesuits just presumed it to be a copy by one of Caravaggio’s followers; and for good reason, I mean have you seen the [crappy] paintings that usually hang in Jesuit residences? Eventually, the painting was only ‘rediscovered’ when it was sent for restoration work in 2006. Curious isn’t it, how something so precious can lie in wait, waiting for discovery, while all that time considered to be of not much worth at all.
II. The opening words of our readings today from Isaiah conveys that sense of the coming to light of something precious, hidden for so long: A shoot springs from the stock of Jesse. First, let me invite you to reflect for a moment on our Gospel reading, for there we hear that we are invited to prepare, to prepare a way for the Lord, make his paths straight. Something significant is about to happen. Someone important is about to come. And so we are invited to pay attention to the landscape of our surroundings, the geography of our hearts. As we inspect that landscape, we might ask ourselves, what is it that makes the paths to our own hearts circuitous? What would it mean to make straight paths for the Lord? Perhaps you and I are invited to still our wandering thoughts, our meandering speech, our restless hearts.
Perhaps we are asked to stop being dishonest with ourselves about what we really want, whom we really need. Instead, we are asked to reveal our enthusiasm, our deep desires that the Lord comes at once, without any delay through unnecessary winding roads, into the core of our being.
Second, we are invited to enact that preparation through perseverance, through not giving up. St Paul says that we are to be reminded, to learn about hope, from the examples scripture gives of how people who did not give up were helped by God. I find that to be such a remarkable line. Don’t give up! God has been, is, will be help for you! How important to remember that especially as we have this terrible instinct of wanting to flee from anything that is difficult or that demands hard work.
This invitation to never give up is even more surprising if we consider the lines of scripture preceding our opening line today. There we are told that the thickets of the forest will fall by an axe, … the majestic trees will fall (Is. 10:34). It is against this dramatic statement of deforestation and destruction that we hear that unexpected, gentle germination of life, A shoot springs from the stock of Jesse.
Third, that coming we are preparing for, for which have persevered through calamity, is a presence from within us. Jesus comes to us in the line of Jesse, reminding us that God’s coming to us is not from without. Indeed, Jesus comes to us as a son of Adam, a son of David, a part of our broken history and fractured humanity. Like that masterpiece that lay in wait to be recognised, Jesus comes to us as one like us. We are that unrecognised masterpiece. We are that something precious, for we are created in the image and likeness of God’s-self. Nothing can destroy that beauty, not even if we are cut down. For that shoot springs within us eternally, transforming our world so that one day enemies sit down with friends on the holy mountain of the Lord.
III. My dear friends, we are invited to prepare, to persevere and to be conscious of the presence of the Lord within us and in our world. Our task then is clear, we are to help each other recognise the masterpieces that we are, amidst all the brokenness in our world. How will you unveil the unrecognised masterpieces in your lives?
Homily of Fr. Mark Aloysius for the Second Sunday of Advent, 2015.
Readings: Baruch 5:1-9; Psalm 125:1-6; Philippians 1:4-6,8-11; Luke 3:1-6.I.
And if [my servant] draws nearer to me by a handbreadth, I draw nearer to him by an arms-length; and if he draws nearer to me by an arms-length, I draw nearer to him by a fathom; and if he comes to me walking, I come to him running.
I.
Have you ever had to change a flat tire (or seen someone do it)?I’ve had to do this twice in my life. Both times after driving for hours up into the highlands in Malaysia, in the middle of nowhere. Both times the tyre went flat just before I reached my destination, only a couple of miles away! Well, there’s a very handy tool you can’t not have when changing a tyre: the car jack. With just a couple of strokes, just a little bit of effort, you can lift a vehicle of perhaps 2 tonnes, making you feel that you have super-strength, like you are the bionic man/woman (pardon the dated reference).
Don’t worry, I am not going to pursue this automotive illustration further. What I think is helpful for us this morning is to reflect on those experiences we have in our lives where we put in a little effort on our part to address a situation so immense, so difficult, and then God takes what we have done and gives us super-strength to face our impossible situations.We feel tremendously anxious about something — an exam, a job interview, waiting for the results of a medical test — and then we spend a few moments just to kneel, to be quiet and to pray, and then we find ourselves enveloped in divine warmth and strength. We forgive someone who has hurt us intentionally and deeply — our friends, our spouses, our children — and then one day we are struck by how much that person has grown, how much they mean to us now. We move out of despair and gloom — calling up a friend, going out for a walk in the sunlight — and we find ourselves forgetting our depression, as if we have walked out of darkness into light.We respond by grace with the most insignificant of gestures, and then find ourselves inexplicably transformed by grace, immersed through and through with peace, love, joy. The same sort of transformation, from tears into song is what we hear in our Psalm today:
They go out, they go out, full of tears, carrying seed for the sowing: they come back, they come back, full of song, carrying their sheaves.
II.
Our readings provide us with two metaphors to describe what we need to do in preparation for Christmas.Our Gospel reading speaks of our preparation through a metaphor of landscape. As John the Baptist prepared the way for the ministry of Jesus of Nazareth, so we need to prepare a way for the Lord, to make His paths straight. We are asked to fill in valleys, level mountains, straighten winding paths, smoothen rough roads. First, we are asked to pay attention to the landscape of our hearts: the swelling of pride and the depths of despair that we give in to, the ways in which we complicate life and make it uncomfortable. As best as we can, we need to prepare a path through the labyrinth of our hearts so that the God who is coming can touch, heal and redeem every part of us. Thus, through this powerful metaphor of landscape we are invited to survey the inner terrains of our hearts this Advent.
The second metaphor we have regarding preparation is from our First Reading from the prophet Baruch, presenting us first with a rich metaphor of clothing. The people of Israel are invited to take off [the] dress of sorrow and distress, and then to put on the beauty of the glory of God for ever. Second, we are asked to disrobe from despair and to cloak ourselves with beauty and joy. This sounds much more difficult, does it not? We might be resistant to joy, having made ourselves accustomed to being weighed down by the same old things. But perhaps this is just the repentance, the metanoia, that we are invited to in Advent.
And though this may sound difficult, there is another comforting message there in our First Reading. The metaphor of landscape can be found here again, but there is a significant difference. Here it is God who is flattening the mountains. It is God who fills the valleys. It is God who makes the paths straight so that Israel can walk in safety under the glory of God. It is God who completes the preparation to come to us. Like that jack that magnifies our limited strengths, so we begin by grace with a small gesture, and God magnifies the good we attempt to do. Perhaps this is said no better than by Prophet Muhammad in Hadith Qudsi 15:
And if [my servant] draws nearer to me by a handsbreadth, I draw nearer to him by an armslength; and if he draws nearer to me by an armslength, I draw nearer to him by a fathom; and if he comes to me walking, I come to him running.
III.
How are our readings inviting us to prepare for the birth of Jesus our Christ? We are invited to take a look at our hearts. To take off the sorrow that covers it, and to let our hearts be clothed by God in beauty.
We are asked to come to God walking, or limping, or hobbling, and to be amazed by the love that God has for us such that He comes to us running.
You know it is dawn when you can look into the face of another and see there the face of your sister or your brother. Until you can do that, the light has not dawned on you. You remain walking in the dark.
I.
Just a year before I entered the Society of Jesus, I spent a few months in Timor-Leste as a Jesuit volunteer. Those months in Timor proved so pivotal in helping me decide to become a Jesuit for it afforded me the experience of the life of a missionary who encounters new cultures, new languages, new peoples. Those months in Timor taught me the joy of service.
Although I learnt to speak only a few rudimentary phrases in Tetum, I could communicate because I spoke some Indonesian and therefore I was asked to teach Physics and Mathematics in a high school. I remember that a number of my classes were the first period on a number of days, and that there was always one student who was late. Although this irked me, I did not do anything about it except to ask him to be on time each time he was late. However, he was late almost every single class and on one day, when I had had enough of his behaviour, I just lost my temper and asked him angrily, “Don’t you have a clock at home?”
“No,” he replied, not defiantly, but plaintively. I did not anticipate that answer. My anger melted away and I felt ashamed. There I was trying to serve, but I did not understand the situation my students were in. I did not understand the kind of poverty that war brought with it.
II.
What does it take to truly understand another person? I think our readings today provide us with a framework to understand other persons.
In our first reading, we read of two figures, Cornelius (a Roman Centurion) and Peter. It is rather remarkable how they came to meet, a story related to us in Acts 10. Cornelius has a vision of an angel who tells him that his life and prayer has been acceptable to God and instructs him to send for men to bring this man Peter to his household. Peter too has a vision while praying. He was hungry and in his vision he sees all sorts of animals, and is told to kill and eat. He protests, insisting that he has never eaten anything unclean and is told, “What God has cleansed, you must not call unclean.” It is at that moment that the men Cornelius sends meets him, and Peter goes with them to meet Cornelius.
Curious how both men must first have visions of angels that move them beyond their prejudices, biases, conceptions of orthodoxy, before they might meet, learn to understand one another, and what God is trying to accomplish in their lives. Although misunderstanding still occurs, for at their first encounter Cornelius mistakes Peter for a god and prostrates before him as we read in the first line of our first reading today, Cornelius and Peter have come a long way in terms of understanding one another. Eventually, Cornelius and his household will come to understand the message of the Risen Christ and be converted. Peter too would have a dramatic conversion. He would come to understand that God is already working in the lives of pagans, and that the Holy Spirit was already present in them, even before baptism! That latter point is something many of us need to understand even today.
Thus, we have our first criteria in learning to understand another person. We need to move beyond our prejudices, biases, our conceptions of orthodoxy and meet persons where they are. Both parties need to get out of their own darkness and walk towards the light of encountering one another. First, understanding requires a movement beyond self towards an encounter with another.
In our Gospel reading today, Jesus contrasts two kinds of relationships: the relationship between servant and master and the relationship between friends. Jesus says that the servant does not know what his master does, but friends do. Then, something altogether unanticipated happens, something tender is revealed: Jesus calls his disciples friends.Remarkably, the God-man calls his followers into intimate friendship. He says they are his friends because he has made known to them all that he has learnt from the Father. They are his friends since they listen to him. They are his friends, and he will lay down his life for them.“A man can have no greater love than to lay down his life for his friends.” He would teach them this truth by actually laying down his life for them on a cross on Good Friday and to lay down his life for us over and over again in the mystery we here celebrate.
Genuine understanding can only occur in a relationship marked by friendship, not domination. This means we will need to truly listen, as intelligently as we can, to what others say to us. It means that we will need to reveal what happens in the depths of our being, both our joys and sorrows, strengths and weaknesses. In order to understand we must dare to give the gift of our own self, and humbly receive the gift of the lives of others. And this brings us to our second insight, understanding can only take place in a relationship of mutual friendship.
Thirdly, understanding can only come about through love. St Augustine says, “one cannot enter into truth without love” (non intratur in veritatem nisi per caritatem). Love is that driving force which moves us out of isolation into communion, from the darkness of prejudice towards the light of encounter. In our second reading, St John says “this is the love I mean, not our love for God, but God’s love for us when he sent his son.” Thank heavens it is the love of God that is primary, and not our love. For our love is fleeting and conditional, but God’s love is eternal, unconditional. It is God’s love that reaches out to us and offers us friendship.
III.
Permit me to end with a story.
A teacher asked his disciples, “How do you know when night is ended and dawn is breaking?” One disciple answered: “It is when you can tell from a distance whether a tree is a cherry tree or an apple tree”. “Wrong,” replied the teacher. “It is,” answered another disciple, “when you can tell from a distance whether an animal is a cow or a horse”. “Wrong,” said the teacher. “You know it is dawn when you can look into the face of another and see there the face of your sister or your brother. Until you can do that, the light has not dawned on you. You remain walking in the dark.”
I know how difficult it is to understand another person. How difficult it is to understand people who do not want to be understood, people who hurt us, people who want to just remain isolated! How difficult it is to understand when someone discards our friendship, our love! And yet how difficult it is to understand our own opaque selves. Truly, we are a mystery unto ourselves. And yet, God understands us. And since we have been understood, may we strive to understand.
How have you been understood? How do you strive to understand?
Striving for knowledge is done out of love and from it, love should pour out. May the Lord’s light of love shine upon us that we may truly know and understand.
I.
'I've learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.'
This popular adage by Maya Angelou has always reverberated in me. We meet various kinds of people along the way but the thing that we’ll make us remember them are hardly the facts, the numbers, the letters. Our hearts tend to have a greater memory of things than what the brain would ever be capable of. We’ll always have a memory of them, how they made us feel.
II.
Our readings for this week speak to us about ignorance and knowledge.
St. Peter tells us in our first reading about how people acted out of ignorance, “in handing over, disowning, and putting the Author of Life to death”.
We must admit that we do things out of ignorance. Yes, it is quite impossible to know everything and expect ourselves to fully grasp all of it in our midst. If that’s the case, we have reached the point where we stopped growing - a state of stagnancy.
Having said that, we should not also allow ourselves to get stacked in ignorance. We need to pick ourselves up and learn. We must forgive ourselves, get the good points, and move forward. St. Peter did not talk to people to point fingers and shower them in shame and guilt for their ignorance. Rather, we see him telling the people to change, to reform their lives and turn to God.
III.
Our Gospel tells us that certainty of knowledge does not even translate to the physical. Even before the crucifixion and death of Jesus, the apostles already knew about such event. They also know how the Messiah must rise from the dead after three days. They knew the Scriptures. They listen to His preachings. Yes, they are knowledgeable. Yet, they were in panic and fright when they saw Him. Some did not even recognized Him, as the Risen Lord. They knew but they did not understood.
We may know the books page by page, number by number, period to period. Yes, it may be a good thing if assessment is through a multiple exam question. But would acing a 100-item examination define someone to be knowledgeable? Is it the endpoint? Is it the reason why we have to know all these things?
St. John, in our second reading, reminds us what knowledge really is. Knowledge goes far beyond the theory. “The way we can be sure of our knowledge of Him is to keep His commandments.”
We could recall from our readings few weeks ago about the commandment not engraved on stone but put by God in our hearts. The core of the commandments is love. Love is the law written in our hearts. Certainty of knowledge is not achieved by assessing what the brain knows. Certainty comes from allowing this knowledge to bear fruit. It is from using this knowledge as a tool to help, to heal, to care, to understand, and to love other people. True knowledge bears fruit - a fruit grown out of love.
May we always understand our own quest for knowledge that we may be able to translate it to something meaningful, not solely for us, but for our brothers and sisters. Striving for knowledge is done out of love and from it, love should pour out.
May the Lord’s light of love shine upon us that we may truly know and understand.
“Lord, let Your face shine upon us."
NCF
Readings: Acts 3:13-15, 17-19; Psalms 4:2,4,7-8,9; 1 John 2:1-5; Luke 24:35-48. See http://po.st/tAvl9S.
With the grace of our Lord’s resurrection, we can truly rise above our pain, weaknesses, failures, and transgressions. The grave shall be the garden. The tomb shall be the womb. We shall rise and become living testimonies of the everlasting love of God for us.
I.
As I ponder on our readings last week, I was reminded of the story of the Monkey Trap (http://po.st/nsaqMq).
In India there are a lot of monkeys. When the locals want to catch one, they anchor a bottle to the ground. The neck of the bottle is just large enough for a monkey's hand to fit through. Then, they put a small banana in the bottle, sit back and wait.
Before long a monkey comes by, sees the banana, reaches his hand into the bottle, and grabs it. But then, the monkey discovers that he can't get his hand out of the bottle while holding onto the banana. There is loud chattering and squealing as the person who set the trap walks up to the monkey and places a burlap sack over him. In the darkness the monkey releases the banana and is captured.
II.
Our readings for the first Sunday of Easter bring us various moments of transition, of change. The Gospel is set at a time of transition from night to day. “Early in the morning…. while it was still dark.” But what really captured my heart is the transition of the tomb of Jesus to become the womb of the Risen Lord. The place where the body of Jesus was laid down is the same place where He conquered death and rose again. The grave of death became the garden of resurrection.
This transition also tells us so much about our lives. The grave where we try to bury our brokenness would also become the garden where we shall rise and live. Yes, "the stone which the builders rejected” shall "become the cornerstone”.
III.
When Mary Magdalene reached the tomb of Jesus, the stone (which covers the tomb) was already moved away. Our tomb is open, let’s go and enter. By going inside, we see the broken pieces of our past. However, we are not there to relive or experience the pain all over again. We enter to take another look, to pick up the pieces, and learn.
However, there are some of us who choose to dwell in the grave. Like the monkey, there are times when we cannot seem to let go. We hold on to what we believed are the bananas of our lives - things that makes us feel full, complete and alive. We long for the banana because we feel that it is the only thing that matters. We are afraid to let it go because we think that by losing it, we are left with nothing. We are caught by the fear of being alone. But how could we ever be alone if God is with us, always with us.
IV.
Letting go allows our hands to be set free - devoid of all the ill feelings we used to hold. St. Paul tells us on our second reading, “Get rid of the old yeast to make yourselves fresh dough, unleavened loaves…”.
Letting go also means making amends with the past. Roll the pieces neatly. We entered the tomb to learn from our past mistakes, to understand our weaknesses and failures as well as those of our neighbor, to forgive the people who have caused us pain, and to ask forgiveness from the people we have hurt.
Let go and let God. With the grace of our Lord’s resurrection, we can truly rise above our pain, weaknesses, failures, and transgressions. The grave shall be the garden. The tomb shall be the womb. We shall rise and become living testimonies of the everlasting love of God for us.
Let’s go and rejoice!
"By the Lord, has this been done; it is wonderful in our eyes. This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad."
Readings:
Acts 10: 34, 37-43 (Gentiles Hear the Good News) http://po.st/2uBvnG
Psalms 118:1-2. 16-17, 22-23 (A Song of Victory) http://po.st/LHOqgV
1 Corinthians 5:6-8 http://po.st/30GGYL
John 20: 1-9 (The Resurrection of Jesus) http://po.st/eHMOgo
Is 52:13-53:12; Ps 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25; Heb 4:14-16; 5:7-9; Jn 18:1-19:42.
His passion and death shows us another aspect of such life - a life of love, a love deep enough to sacrifice oneself for another.
I.
It is estimated that about 4,500 Filipinos leave the country every day. This is for no vacation nor holiday trip but rather to work in a foreign territory and make a living. Working abroad means leaving home. Ninoy Aquino International Airport would probably belong to the saddest places in our country. Parents slowly loosen the tight hug with their children as departure time draws near. Eyes are flooded with tears as the sight of a loved one blurs from a distance. Most of the time, I would rather stay at home when my father would leave the country. The moment of departure is a point of vulnerability where tears would rush down on my face. Despite the sadness, I had always understood his reason to leave and work abroad. In the depths of my heart, I know that such sacrifice is an act made out of love. It is love that endures the pain of loosening hugs and flooding eyes. It is love that transcends the loneliness to be in a faraway land. It is love that bears the backbreaking job. It is love that awakens the hope of the next trip back home.
II.
The passion and death of Christ is a sacrifice made out of love. "But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed.” Jesus saved us from our sins. But what does being saved really means?
III.
When a person sees a child drowning in the waters, he/she would come swimming to rescue that child. When a person sees someone about to be hit by a raging vehicle, he/she would come running to push that person away from it . Both scenarios show how we tend to save other people to protect them from harm. We save them, that they may live.
Jesus saved us from our sins, that we may live. He died for us, that we may live. Two weeks ago, our reading from the letter to the Ephesians tells us, "We are truly His handiwork, created in Christ Jesus, to lead the life of good deeds which God prepared for us in advance.” We also heard from our previous readings what is meant by such life, as exemplified by our Lord Jesus Christ - a life of love, obedience and humility. Today’s reading on His passion and death shows us another aspect of this life - a life of love, a love deep enough to sacrifice oneself for another.
IV.
Let us open our hearts to bear witness to the sacrifices that other people did for us. It is through them that we experience the deep love of Jesus Christ for us. God blessed us with these people who sacrificed so much of their selves for us. They are wounded for us, crushed for us. They are willing to take the pain for us, that we may live. This love creates ripples that flows through us, that we may also bring forth such love to other people, that we may also sacrifice ourselves for another.
NCF
Readings:
Isaiah 52:13-53:12 (The Suffering Servant) http://po.st/DXTmOp; http://po.st/jmBYpB
Psalms 31:2, 6, 12-13, 15-16, 17, 25 (Prayer and Praise for Deliverance from Enemies) http://po.st/AsBySL
Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9 (Jesus the Great High Priest) http://po.st/9HZKo3 http://po.st/oavE1b
John 18:1-19:42. http://po.st/tRJ9ec http://po.st/e5qhyA
Is 50:4-7; Ps 22:8-9, 17-24; Phil 2:6-11; Mk 14:1-15, 47 or 15:1-39
It is not just losing His life but rather giving His life for us. It is not something taken away for the purpose of leaving us but rather for the purpose of staying with us.
I.
We recently went to Quiapo Church to attend the Mass. The chairs and sides were filled to the brim with so many people that made a weekday look like a Sunday. As I observe the queue for the Holy Communion, I can’t help but be overwhelmed by the variety of people who goes to the Minor Basilica of The Black Nazarene. The young and the old, the educated ones and those who lacked formal education, the rich and the poor, and everyone else in between seemed to found the crossroad in the busy district of Quiapo. As I see them receive their Hostia, the polarizing line further blurs into imperceptibility. Some people may wonder what it is that pulls people to the noisy streets of Quezon Boulevard. Is it the priest? Is it the voice of the choir? Is it the interior of the church? I believe it is not any of these. A portion of the mass goers and devotees may not even recall the Gospel nor the Homily for the day. Some may actually doze off to sleep in the middle of the mass. I realize that the reason may not be something that the basic senses can perceive. There is something deeper and more meaningful that draws all these people to The Black Nazarene day in and day out. People go to Quiapo because of the communion that we feel with the Black Nazarene - dark as the color of our skin, burdened by the weight of the cross, suffering to the point of kneeling, but still praying and lifting our face to God.
II.
The readings for this week may sound banal for some ears. We have heard the story of Christ’s passion and death so many times, yet, I failed to understand why it is read on Palm Sunday - the triumphant entry of Jesus to Jerusalem. It is quite polarizing that we are reminded of the victory and death of Jesus on the same day. Should we be celebrating or not? In a moment, we are joyfully raising and waving the palm - a symbol of triumph. Few minutes later, we are told how Jesus was scourged and crucified to death. Do we celebrate the death of someone? Do we celebrate the death of our Lord?
It is indeed perplexing to witness such opposing concepts. Today, we are told how such paradox exists as seen in the life of Jesus. The victorious entry to Jerusalem marks the beginning of our commemoration of the Lord’s passion, death, and resurrection. Death had always been regarded as a sorrowful event. Perhaps, we should look at the death of Jesus in another perspective. It is not just losing His life but rather giving His life for us. It is not something taken away for the purpose of leaving us but rather for the purpose of staying with us. Jesus gave His life for us and He has always been with us.
III.
God is with us. Jesus is with us no matter what. His passion reminds us that in the sorrows of our life, He is there. He suffered the same sufferings we endure. People may connive against you just like the chief priests and scribes plotting against Jesus. A friend could have betrayed you for his/her own gain just like Judas betraying Jesus for money. Your friends and loved ones may leave you on a time when you need them the most just like the apostles deserting Jesus during His arrest. People may speak falsely against you just like the time when Jesus was brought to Caiaphas. Your friends and loved ones may deny you just like Peter denying Jesus three times. People may ridicule you just like the soldiers mocking Jesus. We may be doing our best but people may still hurt us. We may be doing no bad thing but people may still destroy us. We are burdened by the cross we carry. We suffer to the point of kneeling on the ground. Amidst all of these things, God is with us. Jesus is with us. We are not alone. “The Lord God is my help, therefore, I am not disgraced”.
In the face of our sorrows, may we continue to pray and lift our face to God. We are humbled by these experiences that we too may understand and empathize with our brothers and sisters who are enduring the same sufferings. Through our crosses, may we always recognize that “Clearly, this man [Jesus] was the Son of God!”.
NCF
Readings:
Isaiah 50:4-7 (The Servant’s humiliation and vindication) http://po.st/MOO3qx
Psalm 22:8-9, 17-24 (Plea for deliverance for suffering and hostility) http://po.st/GIbjoN
Jer 31:31-34; Ps 51:3-4,12-13,14-15; Heb 5:7-9; Jn 12:20-33
As we embark on the uncertainty of tomorrow, let go of the fear and anxiety. Let us follow Jesus, where He is. Nowhere else but in our hearts.
I.
In a matter of weeks, I am about to set foot in the hospital as a medical clerk. This is the ground zero for us as we venture on actual clinical practice. Anxiety and excitement grapples with one another as the clock ticks towards the sixteenth of the month. I may be no different from a 4 year old kid about to enter his first kindergarten class, or a fresh graduate on his way to his first job, or even a new migrant to foreign territories. Perhaps, entering a new door would always come with a bowl of undescribable emotions. We feel like we are on tenterhooks, uncertain of the things beyond the lit alley.
II.
The prophet Jeremiah tells us about A New Covenant between God and man. Unlike the earlier covenant, it was not written on stones as they are disobeyed by man. This time, the law was put within us, written on our hearts. "I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts”. What law could this be?What law would establish that God is our God and we are His people? What law need not to be taught to friends and kinsmen?
Nothing else but love - the love of God written on our hearts, the covenant perfected in Jesus Christ.
III.
The letter to the Hebrews show us a rarely realized image of Jesus. “He offered prayers and supplications with loud cries and tears to God.” The Gospel further says, “My soul is troubled now..” Jesus is troubled. Our Lord is troubled. Should we be troubled that Jesus is troubled?
We must remember that Jesus became man and dwelt among us. He embraced humanity, all of it. Jesus was also troubled. But how did He handle it? Amidst the troubled soul, He remained obedient. It is through these sufferings that He learned obedience to the will of God. He did not ask for an easy way out, rather, he offered it for the glory of God. His obedience produced much fruit, the perfection of the covenant - a covenant of death-defying love.
IV.
The uncertainty of the future, the things beyond the door, makes us feel anxious. It seems dark and scary for we do not know what is waiting for us. We are terrified that we might be hurt or broken. We are afraid. But we should be reminded that Jesus was troubled, just as we are troubled. He knows it, firsthand.
Amidst the troubled soul, we should learn to be obedient to God. We must be willing to give up ourselves to Him. As we embark on the uncertainty of tomorrow, let go of the fear and anxiety. Be still and know that He is our God and we are His people. Let us follow Jesus, where He is. Nowhere else but in our hearts. He has drawn all of us closer to Him through His death on the cross. He is the love of God written on our hearts - the love that conquers uncertainties and death, the love that produces much fruit from sufferings.
Let us pray that we may have a clean heart to stay true to the covenant of love; that our hearts may burst with love and bring forth the heart of Jesus.
NCF
Readings:
Jeremiah 31:31-34 (A new covenant) http://po.st/VMq8xa
Psalm 51:3-4,12-13,14-15 (Praying for cleansing and pardon) http://po.st/PI4Uz5
Hebrews 5:7-9 http://po.st/zH4X5S
John 12:20-33 (Some Greeks wish to see Jesus; Jesus speaks about His death) http://po.st/SWj0tS
We may be destroyed but not annihilated. We are bared but not abandoned. We are saved, loved and blessed more than we know.
I.
The past few weeks have been very exhausting. Getting up until the wee hours of the morning to study has been my routine that 2 AM feels like the rush of seven in the morning. The pile of materials that I have to study shares the same height with a child. There were moments of frustration, anger, impatience, desperation and even pride. Doubt is cast as to why I am pursuing these things.
We all get tired. You may be a student preparing for the comprehensive examinations, an employee beating the deadline for paper works, a salesman running fast to reach the quota, or a parent managing a household day in and day out. We may come from different walks of life but we all reach a certain threshold. At that point, we feel that our plate is filled to the brim and turning it over seems to be a glorifying thing to do. The load has dramatically overwhelmed us. There are just too many things going around us that we feel beaten, emaciated, destroyed.
II.
The First Reading recounts the Fall of Jerusalem. We hear about the people of Judah “adding infidelity to infidelity, practicing all the abomination of the nations, and polluting the Lord’s temple”. Just like them, we too can be preoccupied with earthly things. Some may justify their acts by saying that everyone is doing it anyway. Others may not even recognize that the world is already consuming them, as their acts are related to their jobs or studies. We value such things in high regard, that unknowingly, we allow them to define who we are. Our immense focus and determination, along with the huge load of work, have managed to wall us off. The thrill and noise that comes with all these things have diminished the acuity of our eyes and ears to things that truly matters, truly matters. Others may even be blind and deaf to the point that “there is no remedy”, but destruction. God shuts down the noise, wipes out the slate, and destroys the walls. We feel beaten, emaciated, and destroyed. We are stripped from the things we used to chase. We are naked to the bones. We feel that there’s nothing else but nothing.
“By the streams of Babylon, we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.” It is during these times of desolation when we realize how much we’ve lost. We realize how we have taken things for granted. It is through these moments that we are able to discern the most important things. We are reminded of the genuine reasons of our pursuits. We are brought back to the beginning, where things are quiet but peaceful, few but more than enough, simple yet incredible.
III.
When everything else is gone, we see ourselves as to who we really are, what we are truly made of. But we see our own baggage of dirt as well. We see our sins, our weaknesses, our failures. We are disappointed with ourselves. We hide in the dark crypts of guilt and shame.
Amidst our flaws, we should recognize ourselves as “part of His people”. Let us "go up” to Him. The Gospel tells us that the judgement in question is on us, on our decision to “come into the light”. We have our own share of transgressions but “God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.”
The shame and guilt may somehow make us feel that we have to do good deeds to be saved. As children, we were once told, “Magpakabait ka para mapunta ka sa langit [You have to be kind for you to go to Heaven]”. It is as if we are working for the purpose of being saved. Some are motivated to do good with the goal of reaching Heaven and avoiding Hell. We are mistaken. It is through God’s grace, that we are saved. St. Paul tells us, “This is not your own doing, it is God’s gift, neither it is a reward for anything you have accomplished”. We do not do good because we want to be saved. We do good because we are saved. Salvation is not the effect, but rather the cause of our conversion. As what Bro. Bo Sanchez says, “You don’t change because you were afraid of going to hell. You change because Someone loved you so much, He went to hell for you."
We may be destroyed but not annihilated. We are bared but not abandoned. We are saved, loved and blessed more than we know. May this salvation, love and blessing drive us to bring Heaven on Earth, to the least of our brothers and sisters.
"We are truly His handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to lead the life of good deeds which God prepared for us in advance.”
NCF
Readings:
2 Chronicles 36:14-17,19-23 (The Fall of Jerusalem, Cyrus Proclaims Liberty for the Exiles) http://po.st/9XTSDJ
Psalms 137:1-6 (Lament over the Destruction of Jerusalem) http://po.st/IITIFr
Ephesians 2:4-10 (From Death to Life) http://po.st/ICwYjd
John 3:14-21(Nicodemus visits Jesus) http://po.st/wNcciI
Exodus 20:1-17; Psalms 19:8.9.10.11; 1 Corinthians 1:22-25; John 2:13-25
God has unconditionally given us so much of His love. He had us on our best. He had us on our worst. It has always been us in His eyes.
I.
Being given with a commandment makes us feel obliged. It comes with firmness, as hard as stone. It may be difficult to comprehend why God delivered us a commandment to love Him. Why would He, ask us, man, to love Him? He created the heavens and the earth. He created the sea and all that is in them. He is the source of everything we have and yet He commands us to give something to him.
The Lord’s commandment shouts so much of His great love for us. We hear our Father telling us to love Him, reflecting how much we mean to Him, how important we are to Him, that he asks for our love. Why would you ask someone to love you if you don’t love that person? God loves us so much that He wants us to love Him back.
How do we know that God loves us?
II.
Some of us are huge believers of signs, like the Jews. When we are trapped in a dilemma, we seldom ask God for signs - from an enchanted shower of petals from the tree, to a wondrous white carabao walking in our midst, to magical ringing of the bells of the Church. We ask for signs that are very much unlikely to happen in an ordinary setting. The more extraordinary the sign is, the more we believe that it is something from heaven.
On the other hand, there are people who demand for wisdom, like the Greeks. We want a logical and rational answer to the things we cannot fathom. We want something tangible, something our hands can hold, our minds can comprehend. There are people who seemed to be in a cast of perpetual doubt and skepticism.
The letter of Paul to the Corinthians tells us that on our quest for signs and wisdom, God’s answer lies on the man crucified on the cross. Christ is the power of God and the wisdom of God. He is the most enchanting and wondrous sign we could ever have. Bar none. God loved us so much that he gave us His only begotten Son, that His Son became one of us, that His Son suffered for all our sins.
During the lows of our life, we often ask God, “Why?”. Why would something this bad happen to me? Why would God allow suffering in this world? Does God really love us? It is during this valleys, that we look up to Him, asking for a sign and an explanation. We should realize that God already replied to us, through His Son, our Lord Jesus Christ. He became man and suffered just like us. He has come before us, and He would never let us down.
Do we let God down?
III.
But, are we really doing our part in our relationship with Him? Do we have other gods besides Him? The Gospel talks about people engaged in selling things and changing coins in the temple. We have seen Jesus driving them out of the temple, knocking over the tables, and spilling their coins. Some of us don’t realize that there are times when we lord over money, career, fame, and success. We seldom choose to put so much of ourselves on these things as if they define who we are. We put them first on the list. We prioritize them among other things. Aren’t we making them the gods of our lives?
This Lenten season, let us reflect about our relationship with God. He has unconditionally given us so much of His love. He had us on our best. He had us on our worst. It has always been us in His eyes. Jesus was well aware of what is in our hearts. He became man and dwelt among us. He knows human nature very well. Let us offer our weaknesses and sins to Him. Let us love Him with all our heart, mind, and soul.
God is in love with us. May we always be in love with Him. Let us be proud of our relationship and share the love with our brothers and sisters.
NCF
Readings
Exodus 20:1-17 (The Ten Commandments) https://www.bible.com/bible/114/exo.20.nkjv
Psalms 19:8.9.10.11 (The Perfect Revelation of the Lord) https://www.bible.com/bible/114/psa.19.nkjv
1 Corinthians 1:22-25 (Christ, the Power and Wisdom of God) https://www.bible.com/bible/114/1co.1.nkjv
John 2:13-25 (Jesus Cleanses the Temple) https://www.bible.com/bible/114/jhn.2.nkjv
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