Live-out weekend retreat : Family Matters
Power
Homily by Fr. Joel Liwanag, S.J. on October 22, 2017, 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time, at the Cenacle Retreat House. Have you ever been asked a trick question? Have you ever been pushed into a difficult situation wherein, as they say, you were damned if you do, damned if you don’t? How did you manage to escape from such trap? In today’s Gospel, Jesus is pushed into such a situation. Those who wished to bring him down, after giving their empty praises, asked him a seemingly simple question: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” To be able to understand why it was a trick question, it is important to keep in mind the socio-political context of Israel then. At that time, the Israelites were under Roman occupation. If Jesus answered “yes” to the question, saying that it was lawful to pay taxes to the Roman Emperor, he could have easily been accused of disloyalty, of being a traitor to his own people. He would have then earned the ire of his fellow Israelites, who considered the Roman rule as a form of oppression. If, however, he answered “no” to the question, saying that it was unlawful to pay taxes to Caesar, he could have been accused of sedition, of disobedience to the Roman law. He could have then been reported to the Roman authorities. Being in this difficult situation, Jesus uses his wit and turns the table around. He tells his detractors to take out a coin, and asks them whose image they see in the coin. When he is told that it is Caesar’s, he tells them, “Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” In Jesus’ cryptic answer he does not only escape from the trap that has been set for him. Through it we also get an insight into his perspective about human power. First, when he says, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” Jesus seems to give his implicit recognition of the legitimacy of human power. He acknowledges the reality that since we human beings live in community, we are subject to a social order, and part of this social order is having leaders who exercise their authority for the sake of the group. When used correctly, such power can bring forth much good. In today’s first reading, we meet one such leader who brought forth much good to Israel. His name is Cyrus, king of Persia. Under King Cyrus, we see the end of a painful era in Israel’s history, the Babylonian exile. Under his reign, Israel is allowed to go back to their homeland and rebuild their temple. Indeed, he is one good example of a leader who exercised his authority for the good of the community. I invite you now to remember some of the exemplary leaders we’ve had, in our world, in our country, in our community. How did they exercise their power? What good did they do for their constituents? How did they help those who were subject to their authority? Bringing this closer to our own personal experience, perhaps we can also ask ourselves the same questions. We who are leaders in our own little way, in our workplaces, in institutions, in organizations, and even in our own families, how do we exercise our authority? How do we exercise our leadership? Are we able to bring forth good for those who depend on our leadership? Secondly, apart from the recognition of human power, another lesson we learn from today’s Gospel has to do with the limits of this power. After saying “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” Jesus adds, “and give to God what belongs to God.” In a way, Jesus is making an important reminder. Yes, human leaders exercise authority, but in their exercise of such authority, they must not forget that they are not God. The problem with some leaders that we have is that they think they are God. They see themselves as the ultimate power, no longer dependent on the power of God. This is a dangerous frame of mind. This way of thinking is what makes cruel dictators, heartless monarchs, abusive leaders. When Jesus says “give to God what is God,” it is His way of saying, “recognize God as the supreme authority,” for indeed, there is nothing that does not belong to God. Everything that we have, everything that we possess, everything that we enjoy – all these belong to God. Yes, even the power exercised by human leaders, belongs to God. Such authority is only entrusted to those who have been called to hold it. This is the message we hear in today’s first reading. Going back to King Cyrus, we know that He is not a believer. And yet, listen to what the Lord God tells him: “I have called you by your name, giving you a title, though you knew me not. I am the Lord and there is no other, there is no God besides me. It is I who arm you, though you know me not….” Indeed, we should not let human power get into our heads. We have to constantly remind ourselves that such power is only entrusted to us. It does not belong to us. Ultimately, it belongs to the Lord, He who has supreme authority over all. To end, perhaps we can reflect on the mistakes we’ve made in exercising power. Have there been moments when, in our exercise of leadership, we acted as if we were God, forgetting that we are not? In what ways have we abused the power that God has entrusted to us? In what ways have we misused the authority that has been given to us? Jesus tells us, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. Give to God what belongs to God.” Yes, we have to recognize the authority of human power, but we must not forget that such power is always in the
“Yes, I will”
Homily by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ, at the Cenacle Retreat House on the 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time. The Gospel is from Matthew 21: 28-32. On my first week as a newly ordained priest, a man stopped by Sacred Heart School in Cebu where I was assigned, and asked if he could confess. So, I sat with this very earnest, very gentle man and listened. “Father,” he started, “there’s one thing in the past 12 years I’ve long wanted to do: to receive the body of Christ again. I’ve been separated for 12 years, and I know there’s a rule against people like me, so I’ve kept myself away from communion since. I go to mass every day though.” His wife had left him for another man after just four years of marriage. He himself had met another woman since, with whom he was now living and had a child. They all went to church every Sunday. But their daughter was the only one who would line up for communion because mom and dad took it upon themselves to, well, keep away, according to the rule…even if they’d been wanting to share of the Body of Christ, truly, deeply, longingly all these years. This man had always believed without a shred of a doubt, that Christ’s body was his source of inspiration and healing and strength all his life. If you were there to hear him talk, sisters and brothers, you would realize he would not have come to confession if he were not sincere. Because he was. It was unmistakable. He did get around to confessing his sins. But it was more a confession of a long-standing wish, the granting of which he well knew he didn’t deserve; at least according to the rule, because he was a separated man. I gave the gentleman absolution. I also gave him the Body of Christ after that. I thought I had already understood his hunger for the Eucharist, until he broke down in big, loud, cathartic, heaving sobs upon receiving Christ’s body. I had no idea. He missed the Lord more than I could fathom. What greater faith could I ask to be shown, seeing someone long for the Lord so powerfully like that? So, his deep faith made me question my faith: When was the last time I longed for God like this? Never. The one verse that played over and over in my head all that day long was that there would be more rejoicing in heaven over one repentant sinner than over 99 righteous who think they have no need of repentance. Pope Francis’ message in Amoris Laetitia is very clear, but only if priests care to read it carefully, receptively, and intelligently. I hope I did. Because after I read it, the most crucial message I heard in my crazy Jesuit head was twofold. “Arnel,” Pope Francis seemed to say, “Be very careful to not lump together in one basket all the divorced and the separated and the cohabiting, and think of all of them as self-driven enemies of God and of the church.” And you know, in my work as a priest and confessor, that is so true. I have met divorced, separated, and cohabiting people who have sincerely set aright their ways, even if they can no longer change their past wrongs. Should I keep using the past wrong as the sole criterion to doubt their present goodness? If we priests do that, then we are no better than the Pharisees, Jesus’ pet peeves. They regarded as impure and disgusting to God anyone and everyone who wasn’t pure like they were, pure in their sense of the word, according to their standards, and to their construal of the law. Secondly, the Pope seemed to say, “Count how many times I wrote the word ‘discern’ and ‘discernment’ in that document: that priests must carefully ‘discern each situation,’ that ‘special discernment is indispensable for the care of the divorced, separated, abandoned;’ that these situations require ‘careful discernment and respectful accompaniment.’” 44 times. In other words, nowhere did the Pope imply or even order that all priests must all the time give communion to all the divorced, separated, and cohabiting, regardless of the circumstances. No. We are to carefully listen to people, accompany them, discern with them—in the spirit of compassion and mercy. Because not all the divorced, separated, and cohabiting are the monsters that many churchmen far too easily judge them to be. But I have met a few who really reject the faith and even mock God and the church. So, yes, there are separated, divorced people like that who couldn’t care less about God or church or decency, because they want to have their cake and eat it, too. Yet, there are others who did say “no” to God at some point in their lives, but they’ve since gone back to the vineyard, to work with the Father—like the first son in today’s gospel. But how will priests know, if we antemanothrow all of them into one basket, and then keep sterile distance from them? On the other hand, for all we know, some people we do give communion to, they may well be legitimately wedded and living together, but have become cruel or apathetic to each other, in a marriage that is lawful, but loveless. Wouldn’t that be the second son in today’s parable—who said “yes, I will,” or as marriage would go, “yes, I do,”—but did nothing more? “’Which of the two did his father’s will?’ Jesus asked them. They answered, ‘The first.’ ‘Amen, I say to you, tax collectors & prostitutes are entering the kingdom of God before you.’” Then we protest this as in the first reading, “The Lord’s way is not fair!” “Listen, Israel,” the Lord says. “Is it my way that is unfair, or yours?” I end with a quote in Amoris Laetitia. The Pope says, “I sincerely believe that Jesus wants a Church that’s attentive to the goodness which
Religious sisters on mainstream ‘teleradyo’ in Philippines
CLICK THIS LINK FOR THE NEWS ARTICLE: globalsistersreport.org
Fixer
*Homily given by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ at the Cenacle Retreat House on the Feast of the Transfiguration 2017. We had a Himig Heswita concert in Tokyo over 2 weeks ago. Out of the 6 singers who were supposed to sing, only 2 made it. The other 4 didn’t get their visas on time. It wasn’t really their fault. Last May, our very well-meaning secretary volunteered to do the run-around for the visas. But then, things got very busy in the office. So what he did was—he entrusted all their papers to a very good friend whose mother knew her way around travel agencies. But, long story short, our secretary’s friend sat on the papers. The documents never reached his mom. Worse, he charged my friends outrageous fees for this, that, & the other, inventing “requirements” w/c they later found out were bogus. In the end, no visa. So, imagine: Sakura Hall, Shibuya Cultural Center, famous for classical concerts, a huge place. But instead of 6 singers promised, only 2 came. We had to convince to sing with us 1 of the organizers there who sang in a church-choir, & he agreed. But imagine all the re-adjustments of solo parts, the 3-part harmonies coming to naught, the last-minute rehearsals. Everything hung on a thread all because of a fixer. Fixers don’t care for anyone other than themselves, do they? Or anything other than your money. A very good friend used to work with government. I remember him saying, “Mula sa mga clerk sa front desk na nagpapa-pedicure o kumakain ng maruya during office hours, pataas hanggang sa mga boss na walang ginagawa, the whole system is just crawling with ineptitude & corruption.” I guess that’s why we have fixers. We part with good money on them because we can’t be bothered by long lines & waiting & rudeness. It’s not entirely our fault, after all, that government gets a pedicure & eats maruya & goes on junkets while we wait in line. In a bizarre & annoying kind of way, fixers “save” us, like “saviors” of some kind. But then again, maybe this is why our country has never seen a transfiguration—the way South Korea, Thailand, Japan have gone through thoroughgoing transfiguration. We’ve relied too much on fixers to do the dirty work for us, & expedite our cause; & from the passion & suffering of it all, to spare us. Allow me to go into catechism mode for a while. We Christians understand the Lord’s Transfiguration in 3 ways. First, in the bible, the mountain is a privileged place where God & human persons meet. But this time on Mt Tabor, Jesus is the privileged point, our bridge to our God. Secondly, in the Transfiguration, God’s confirms & affirms that Jesus is not only the Messiah prophesied, represented here by Moses & Elijah. God also confirms & affirms that Jesus is most importantly, his beloved Son. Lastly, the Transfiguration previews & anticipates the Resurrection. So, gloriousness & majesty; that’s what we read in the Transfiguration, a mysterium tremendum et fascinosum, a mystery that terrifies us yet fascinates us, as it did Peter who said, “Wow, let’s just stay up here!” No, Jesus says. Baliktad. You don’t get to the glory by leaving the struggle. You stay with the struggle & leave the glorifying to God. So, despite his stature as our bridge to God, the fulfillment of all prophecies, the beloved Son who will rise again—Jesus has had to climb down Mt. Tabor. He’s had to resume being our “fixer”—fixing our ills & disabilities, our demons & our despair. Worst, a real part of that descent will be an ascent…but to a cross. But see, Jesus entrusts none of these to fixers. He will have none of these expedited…not if he really wants humanity to be transfigured into the image & likeness of God. Because isn’t that the reason why God sends us the Messiah: to transfigure us all into his image & likeness? Dear sisters & brothers, the image & likeness of God is not all glory & majesty. Jesus is the image & likeness of the Father. If we are to be transfigured into that image & likeness, then we will have to reckon with being a picture of pain for the sake of a good cause, being a picture of despair over thanklessness, a picture of sorrow when people we love don’t & won’t love us back the same way. So the image & likeness of a glorious, majestic God includes an image & likeness of a suffering Messiah. It’s like a watermark, this image of a suffering God. It floats beneath the much bolder ink of God’s glory & majesty. Jesus has had to go through the long & arduous way towards the Resurrection. Only then is he finally & irreversibly transfigured. No short-cuts, no excuses, no fixers. And then there are these incredibly wealthy parents who give their children everything they ask for to compensate for their constant absence. Money as fixer of an ailing family—no transfiguration, walang pagbabago. And then there’s the man who promptly goes to confession to get absolution, but never apologizing to people he hurts & harms. A sacrament as fixer of sin—no transfiguration, walang pagbabago. And the terror professor who delights in flunking students, but passes a high-pointer varsity player who hardly shows up for class. Favoritism as fixer of school victory—no transfiguration. And what about the men who kill & kill & kill again. Bullets as fixers of society—no transfiguration, surprise, surprise. Walang pagbabago. But then there’s the alcoholic who finally surrenders himself to a laborious rehab…& the weary couple who are on the via dolorosa of marriage therapy…& OFW’s who soldier on through loneliness & slavery…& the cancer-stricken wife & mom who never loses faith in God & keeps serving her family & her church even when she feels her very strength leaking out & away day by day…. there, sisters & brothers, there happens the
Betrayers
April 12: Wednesday of Holy Week Betrayers Reading: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Matthew 26:14-25 Scripture: “It would be better for that man if he had never been born.” (Mt 26: 24) Reflection: In the passion story, Judas and Peter have betrayal in common. Judas betrays Jesus to those who seek to kill him, apparently for no better reason than a handful of coins. Peter betrays himself on the eve of the crucifixion when he denies being Jesus’ follower, apparently for his own safety (Jn 18:17). Peter will repent (Mt 27: 3-4) and accept Jesus’ forgiveness. Judas will repent but he will accept no forgiveness, not even his own. Instead, he will hang himself (Mt 27:5). It is easy to say of him, as Jesus did, “better for that man if he had never been born.” Judas remains forever a mystery. However he began, he ended up a man of contradictions, chosen by Christ, reviled as a thief by John, despised by the authorities who paid for his information, and utterly despairing of himself. We don’t know why Judas’s life took the turns that led him to his end. But we do know his great mistake. During his years as a disciple he missed the most important thing about the Master he had agreed to follow. He may have learned all the right words, but he never learned the Person who spoke them. Jesus expressed frustration with hypocrisy and blindness. He even uttered dramatic woes against the towns that refused to accept him and his message (e.g. Mt 11: 20-24). But he never refused compassion to a repentant sinner. Never. And somehow Judas missed it. Lent offers us an extended time in which to seek what St.Paul calls “the supreme good” of knowing Christ more deeply, more intimately, more truly (see Phil 3:8-9). Whatever we may have done in the way of fasting, prayer, almsgiving, and other good works, the underlying purpose has been to free us of the claustrophobic self so we can plunge into deeper communion with the One who is God’s mercy. Missed it? Don’t worry. Lent, like every other liturgical season, is a rehearsal for all of life. And the invitation to know, and love and live in Christ remains open all year round. Meditation: How have you come to know Jesus better this Lent? How do you feel called to grow toward knowing and loving him even more deeply in the months to come? Prayer: Lord Jesus Christ, grant that daily we may see you more clearly, love you more dearly, and follow you more nearly.
Chosen
Daily Reflections for Lent by Sr. Genevieve Glen, OSB; Not by Bread Alone 2017, Liturgical Press: Minnesota April 11: Tuesday of Holy Week Chosen Reading: Isaiah 49:1-6; John 13:21-33 Scripture: The Lord called me from birth, . . . You are my servant, he said to me, Israel through whom I show my glory.(Is 49:1,3) Reflection: So accustomed have we become to casting Judas as the ultimate betrayer for selling Jesus out to his enemies that we can overlook the real extent of his betrayal. We know very little about Judas. What we do know comes to us largely from the pen of a biased evangelist who exposes him as a miser and a thief before he ever becomes a traitor. In John’s portrait, Judas is painted in dark colors, with no hint of light, but for balance, we should remember that, whatever his character defects, Judas was born one of God’s chosen people, called by God from birth like all of us, and appointed Jesus’ disciple. So in handing Jesus over to his enemies, Judas betrayed not only his master but also his heritage, his history, and his vocation. His tragedy is not limited to the last act of his personal drama: betrayal and suicide. His tragedy includes a longer story of a person twisted and lost, one who came into the world beloved by his Creator and destined for good but threw it all away. We don’t know the details of that story, but we can heed its warning. We also came into the world beloved by our Creator, chosen and gifted for good we grow into. Along the way, we have our own choices to make, some small, some momentous: Will I choose friends wisely, will I learn, will I take the path God lays out for me, will I do good or ill? And never mind the drama: “good” is not always throwing myself in front of a truck to save a child, and “ill” is not always grabbing for the thirty pieces of silver. Good and ill come in all sizes and shapes, most of them not worthy of mention in the evening news, but all of them vital to the shape our story and our world will take and the ending it will come to. Meditation: Think back about your life’s crossroads moments. When and why did you choose for “good,” and when for “ill”? How have those choices shaped your life? What choices is God offering you now? Prayer: O God, Creator and Redeemer, guide us through the crossroads small and great, so that we may truly grow into your faithful servants.
The Heart of Discipleship
Daily Reflections for Lent by Sr. Genevieve Glen, OSB; Not by Bread Alone 2017, Liturgical Press: Minnesota April 10: Monday of Holy Week The Heart of Discipleship Reading: Isaiah 42:1-7; John 12:1-11 Scripture: Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil. . . . and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair. . . . (John 12:3) Reflection: Mary of Bethany—Martha and Lazarus’s sister, Jesus’ friend and disciple—reappears in today’s gospel. In Luke’s gospel, written earlier than John’s, she provoked her sister’s ire by choosing to sit at Jesus’ feet like a disciple and listen to him rather than helping with the meal. Now she again flouts convention buy anointing Jesus’ feet with expensive perfumed oil and drying them with her hair. Again she provokes ire, this time from Judas. Ironically, he protests her disregard for Jesus’ teaching about the poor, though he, not she, will prove to be the false disciple. In neither story does Mary utter a word of self-defense, but Jesus defends her in startling terms—in Luke, for choosing the one essential, a listening discipleship; here for expressing her discipleship in an act Jesus deems prophetic. In both cases, Mary goes to the heart of discipleship: the mystery of Jesus himself, in Luke as the Word of God speaking of their midst, now in John as the Anointed One who will die. She annoys her sister Martha by ignoring the precept of hospitality to a guest. She angers Judas by ignoring the poor. Jesus says once again that Mary, disciple to the core, has her priorities right: the person of this Messiah outweighs even his own ethical teaching. There are times, and this is one of them, when the disciple must let Jesus’ teachings fade into the background to focus attention entirely on him and own fully who he really is. And, as Jesus himself will, Mary sets aside all concern for her own good name to do what discipleship bids her because she above all of them has truly understood the Truth he will claim at the Last Supper to be (John 14:6) We live in a doing a world, busy about work of all sorts. As disciples, we do our best to carry out the works of the gospel. But Mary teaches us the core of discipleship: knowing Jesus, the source and definition of all good works. Meditation: What has your focus been this Lent? How has your Lenten penance brought you to know Christ more deeply? Prayer: Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, grant us the grace to recognize you as the source and center of our life as disciples. (Image from the internet.)