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General, Homilies, Soul Food

Meritocracy | Mark 12: 28-34

            What did scribes do? They were ancient Israel’s human word processors & Xerox machines. With almost maniacal accuracy, they hand-copied biblical texts word for word on parchment. But before getting to work, they washed their whole body clean. Then, with ink from a special recipe, they wrote each letter carefully, not missing a single dot or dash that Hebrew letters came with, making sure no two letters touched each other. Otherwise, ulit. They said each word out loud as they wrote it. Except the word “Yahweh,” w/c was too sacred to verbalize. Instead, they said “Adonai.” But when they came to that name, they stopped, washed their hands 7 times, wiped the pen clean, dipped it anew into the ink, & only then wrote “Yahweh.” How many times did the word Yahweh occur in the Torah? Well, that was how many times they washed hands & pen. So, you can imagine how scribes obsessed over the minutiae of the Law!             But this one? He was different. Unlike other scribes, Pharisees, teachers of the Law, this one got it. Loving God & neighbor, he said, was “worth more than all burnt offerings & sacrifices.” Jesus had never heard a hierarch soft-pedal Temple sacrifice like that. You see, sisters & brothers, for Jews, sinning was incurring a debt w/ God. Utang. After a long process of purification, sacrificing a dead animal at Temple was the climax of atonement. Whereupon the debt of sin was paid in full. But then & only then did God clear the slate.             Why do we think that this is absurd today, sisters & brothers? Because it smacks of what we call meritocracy. When we think that what we do or not do for God conditions God to do & not do for us, then, we just might’ve fallen into meritocracy. Meritocracy comes in many subtle religious behaviors today. “I will help the poor so that God will not make me poor. I will help raise funds for the church so that God will accept me into heaven. I will pray the rosary so that Jesus will see I’m devoted to his Mother, & grant my petition & save me.” Seems nothing wrong there, is there?  But scrutinize it a little more & we notice that we’re in fact saying, “It’s what I do first that will condition God to then do for me what I want him to do.” In meritocracy, God simply reacts to the stimulus of my merits or demerits. But by default, God idles in neutral. My merits rev up his goodness, & my demerits make him hit the brakes on loving me. But sisters & brothers, nothing conditions God. No one conditions God. Not even the holiest of saints condition God. God’s love & his forgiveness are not conditioned by our initiatives at doing good or saying we’re sorry. Baliktad. Because God is loving & forgiving, we, his creatures, are able to love & repent at all. Because we have been loved & forgiven, so do we also love & say we’re sorry.             The analogy of good parents often helps. Imagine how good parents would feel if their child said, “Mom, dad, I will love you so that you will love me. I will be a good child so that you will be good to me.” Absurd. “Anak, nauna na kitang minahal. Patuloy kitang aarugain hanggang matuto ka ring magmahal. Patuloy kitang patatawarin hanggang matuto kang humingi ng tawad at magpatawad. Kung ayaw mong magmahal o humingi ng tawad, ikaw lang ang sisira sa sarili mo. But as far as I’m concerned, hindi kita matitiis. Patuloy kitang mamahalin at patatawarin, kasi anak kita.” That is precisely what a good parent would say. A good parent’s love & pardon are not conditioned by the merits & demerits of their children. Rather, they would like their kids to learn how to love because dad & mom love them, & not so that dad & mom would love them. Good parents would like their kids to say they’re sorry not because mom & dad won’t forgive them if they don’t, but because dad & mom have always forgiven them their faults. True love is not meritocratic. (And yes, sisters & brothers, I am aware that there are parents who are meritocratic. Their love & attention are conditioned by the merits & demerits of their kids. I’ve taught in 3 Ateneo high schools. Children w/ parents like this are often highly accomplished, yes. But they are some of the saddest, most troubled students I’ve ever known. Why? Because in true loving, there should never be meritocracy.)             Multiply that by a gazillion times w/God whose love goes beyond meritocracy. If God’s love were conditioned by our capacity to pay for the debt of our sins, would we have survived this well for this long? Yet, haven’t we noticed, sisters & brothers? God does not give us what we really deserve. God gives us more than we deserve. “So, Fr Arnel, going back to sacrifice, good deeds, & atonement, do we not do them anymore since God loves & forgives us anyway?” No, we continue offering sacrifices, loving, & atoning. But never think of them as bribes to God! Because that’s what meritocracy comes down to: bribing God w/ the currency of our merits. But if good parents do not keep a ledger of their children’s merits & demerits according to which they give or deprive them of love & forgiveness, why would our God be any less? No, we continue to sacrifice, to love God & others, to say we’re sorry, because God has loved & forgiven us first & always, & much, much more than we even deserve to be loved & forgiven.             Sadly, meritocracy is written almost indelibly on the parchment of our Catholic mentality. The Word was made Flesh & dwelt among Jews

General, Homilies, Soul Food

World Mission Sunday 2024

The readings for the 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time bring us face to face with a powerful message about humility, service, and what true greatness is. In the Gospel of Mark that we just proclaimed, James and John ask Jesus for positions of glory in His kingdom. Their request reveals a misunderstanding of what it means to follow Christ. Jesus responds by teaching them—and us—that true greatness is found not in power or prestige but in humble service. “Whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be the slave of all. ” Jesus Himself provides the ultimate example: “For the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.” In the world we live in, greatness is often associated with status, power, and authority. Yet, Jesus flips this understanding on its head. He shows us that greatness in the kingdom of God is not about how much control we can exercise or how high we can climb, but about how low we can stoop and bend in order to serve others. It is a radical call to humility, love, and self-sacrifice.  Jesus doesn’t just teach this; He himself lived it. His whole life was one of service, ultimately culminating in His death on the cross. He did not seek to dominate but to heal, to teach, to give His life so that others might have life. For us, His followers, this means that if we want to be great in the eyes of God, we must imitate Christ’s humility. We must be willing to serve without seeking reward, to love without expecting anything in return, and to give ourselves in a way that lifts others up. Humble, loving service, then, is the path to true greatness in God’s Kingdom.  This Sunday, we also celebrate World Mission Sunday, a reminder of the Church’s universal mission to proclaim the Gospel to all nations. The theme of service and humility ties beautifully into this celebration. The mission of the Church is not about imposing our will on others or seeking to expand power. Instead, it is about serving the world in love, sharing the Good News of salvation, and living out the example of Christ who gave His life for others.  The call to mission is a call to follow Jesus in service and humility. Each of us, as baptized Christians, is sent to be a witness to Christ in the world. We are called to embody His love and humility, to go to the peripheries of society where people are suffering, neglected, or forgotten. On this World Mission Sunday, we are reminded that this mission is not just for priests, religious, or missionaries in distant lands—it is for all of us, right where we are. Whether in our families, workplaces, or communities, we are called to be servants, bringing Christ’s love to others. By following Jesus’ example and living it out, we thus partake in the Mission of the Church.  But we ask ourselves, “what does this humble service look like in our daily lives?” Well, it may be as simple as listening to a friend who is going through a tough time, helping a colleague who is struggling, or reaching out to someone in need. It may also involve standing up for those who are marginalized, advocating for justice, and working to alleviate the suffering of others. Every act of kindness, every gesture of love, every moment we give ourselves to others in Christ’s name becomes a participation in the Church’s mission to the world.  As we continue to ponder and reflect on these readings and celebrate World Mission Sunday, we are reminded that following Jesus means embracing a life of service and humility. It is through this service that we participate in the mission of the Church and reflect the love of Christ to the world. Let us ask for the grace to serve with humble hearts, to love as Christ loved, and to go out into the world, carrying the Good News not just in our words but in the way we live our lives.  In the end, the greatness that Jesus speaks of is not measured by how much we accomplish in the eyes of the world, but by how much we have loved and served in the spirit of Christ. May we, as His disciples, strive to serve with humility and love, joining in the Church’s mission to bring the Gospel to all people, especially the least, the last, and the lost.   Homily delivered by Fr. Mamert Mañus, SJ 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Anticipated Mass) 19 October 2024 Cenacle Retreat House  

General, Homilies, Homily, Soul Food

Mark 10: 2-16

            Have you seen wedding videos of arranged marriages? There was one I saw where a young Indian groom sat alone, unsmiling & uncomfortable. His heavily veiled wife was led in to be seated beside him. Apparently, they’d never seen each other because when the bride was unveiled, the groom saw how exquisitely beautiful she was. With his huge sigh of relief came a blissful smile that erased every trace of anxiety on the groom’s face. Sadly, that was a one-off. In the rest of the videos I saw after that, brides & grooms looked like they’d rather be in Jupiter than in that wedding! In first century Israel, love didn’t have anything to do w/ marriage. For financial security of the bride, yes; peace between families & tribes, yes; keep wealth within the clan, yes. Love, no. Actually, it’s still that way in many, many cultures to this day. But in Israel back in Jesus’ day, the grooms’ families were always the wealthier. So, the privilege to file a bill of divorce was skewed towards the men. True enough, Jewish husbands divorced their wives even for the flimsiest of reasons. David Amram, noted scholar of Jewish marriage & divorce says, “This ancient right of the husband to divorce his wife at his pleasure (was) the central thought in the entire system of Jewish divorce law.” He cites rabbinic teachings that say: “(Husband) may divorce (wife) if she spoiled a dish for him… or if he found another fairer than she… or if she goes out with her hair unbound…or if she talks so loudly in the house that neighbors could hear her.” Weightier reasons were when the wife was suspected of adultery, or when she was unable to produce children. Being baog was always the woman’s fault back then. Upon divorce, women didn’t get their dowry back. Worse, they lost all financial security. This plunged her & her family into debt & poverty. Divorced women were so stigmatized that they actually died social deaths. When the Pharisees asked Jesus whether divorce was lawful or not (after all, the sacred law of Moses allowed it!) Jesus was flatly against it. Marriage involved not just a couple & their two families, but also God. It was bad enough that the Law permitting divorce privileged men but brutally prejudiced women. It was worse that love had nothing to do with marriage. Let me share something with you, sisters & brothers. There was actually a time when I was pretty sure love had nothing to do w/ my own mom & dad staying together. For a particular stretch of my life, they quarreled so much that kuya & I had to step in, esp. when their cold war dragged on for too long. We were still in high school, then, can you imagine? Already playing marriage counselors & arbiters. One time it got really bad. Our parents called for a family meeting. They announced, “We’re going on a trial separation.” Separation was precisely what kuya & I were trying to prevent by helping them reconcile each time. So, the word “trial” didn’t quite make “separation” sound better. I confess, the first thought in my head was, “What if my classmates find out? How would I live w/ the shame of being a child of separated parents, a ‘broken home’ (as it was called back then)?” Then, the even darker scenarios: “Am I losing my dad to someone else? Another family? Don’t they love us anymore?” At dahil nga bahagi na kami ni kuya ng pagsasaayos ng mga bagay-bagay tuwing nag-aaway sila, at that moment, we felt like we failed in our mission. Kuya& I were not used to failure. We were very good students in school, oh my God. But now that mom & dad decided on a “trial separation,” there was no greater failure. But this homily is not about my stand on the question: “Is it lawful for a husband to divorce his wife?” It is, nevertheless, a respectful suggestion, or an encouragement, perhaps. Just as there should be serious, compelling, & selfless reasons for couples to jump out of marriage, there should be even more serious, compelling, & selfless reasons to enter into one. I wish & hope & pray that couples think long & hard, far & wide about how they will be affecting the children in all their decisions not just as parents, but also as husbands & wives. And to do all this not just before having children, but before even getting married. In my opinion, the most serious, compelling, & selfless reason to consider should be the children. Jesuits have been in the education apostolate for a long, long time. We’ve seen it far too often to deny it, sisters & brothers. Problems of students often redound to marital problems of their parents. Not all, thank God. Not all. For there are indeed children who fall into problems even when their parents are in an exemplary marriage. Still, it has happened far too often to be denied, & happens still: there’s that higher risk of academic difficulties, disruptive behavior, & depression in children whose parents cannot & do not want to get along. Even when each parent tries to show the children parental love, the children see & feel & know that their parents no longer respect each other. Totoo pa rin ‘yung kasabihan: one of the best ways parents ever love their kids is to show them how much they love each other. Because kids know. By God’s grace, things got a little better w/ mom & dad as they grew older. It was never perfect. But stay together they did, till death parted them when mom passed. Did love for each other have anything to do with sticking together? I’m not really sure. But I will bet my last bag of Cheetos that if there was one thing that had everything to do with their having stuck it out together, it was love

General, Homilies, Homily, Soul Food

“Hinay-hinay, basta kanunay.”

To Pray on and Ponder: John 12, 24-26 “Hinay-hinay, basta kanunay” is a favorite Visayan-language quotation which I always liken to God’s grace. The dynamic movement is that of a slow, gentle drop of things, slowly, but constantly, like St. Ignatius’ image consoling grace—like water dripping on a sponge, it drips and drops, without noise, almost imperceptibly, slowly but surely. But we know that such water dripping hinay-hinay, basta kanunay would ultimately break the proverbial rock, rather than a one time, big time, noisy splash. I thought of this slow, gentle, relentless drop of things mulling over St. Thérèse, the foundress-saint we honor today. A big part of this slow and gentle drop of things in the spirit of St. Thérèse is her contemplation of the sweet and gentle goodness of God in all things. She saw goodness as though it were a golden stamp from the Creator that sealed goodness in every creature of God, even in the chair or kneeler she was using. But we see how this slow, gentle, relentless drop of things, assumes much depth when we come to know that the constant surrender to grace involved Thérèse’ gracious receiving of suffering from people around her, (some of whom are Jesuits: hmp, sorry po!). With much humility and grace, your foundress received humiliation and suffering and used these with the intention of purifying the world of sin’s hold of it. This is at the very heart of the “law of the cross” as Jesuit theologian, Bernard Lonergan describes it. That in Jesus’ loving self-sacrifice on the cross, he took upon himself the sin and violence around him and transmuted it into obedient loving surrender to his Father’s will and loving self-sacrifice for the people he loved. This cross of Christ, wherever it is lived and embraced always leaves a world closer to redemption and communion with the loving God, hinay-hinay, basta kanunay. I believe St. Thérèse learned this by suffering it and experiencing deep joy for it. She herself testifies: Oh! If people could understand beforehand the sweetness and the peace enjoyed by those who would hold nothing back from the Good God! How he communicates himself to the soul who sincerely seeks him and who knows how to surrender herself. Let them just experience it, and they will see that therein is found the true happiness which they are vainly seeking elsewhere.  (To Surrender Oneself, 1864) St. Ignatius once described the Jesuit of his dreams in similar terms: “men crucified to the world, and to whom the world itself is crucified.” That by our gentle acts in ministry, we join Jesus Christ chipping away at sin and corruption in the world, crucifying it, really; but by sheer counterflow in things, we, ourselves are crucified to the world as well, going countercurrent to the world’s desires will always invite a backlash, but we continue chipping away anyways. And it will bear fruit as the Gospel proclaims—“Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. This morning, I kept marveling at how the slowness and gentleness in St. Thérèse learned her surrender to grace in the face of all the humiliation and suffering her commitment entailed, and how she ultimately experienced joy and peace as she gave her all to her Lord. And I guess the key is still the ever-growing love she kept in her heart for Jesus, and the way she ultimately contemplated the face of Jesus’ goodness in everything, hinay-hinay basta kanunay. And you know the grace of the founder sure is the grace of the daughters. I think of the Cenacle sisters close to me, and I see this slow and gentle drop of things reflected well in their lives, and I’m in awe at beholding God’s fidelity and constancy in them, in their friendship and their service. In them we see a God who always provides all of us with the grace we precisely need in our lives time and time again, with great hospitality and thoughtful gentleness and reliable strength, trully, really, hinay-hinay, basta kanunay! Homily delivered by Fr Vic Baltazar, SJ on the Feast of Saint Thèrése Couderc, Founder of the Religious of the Cenacle 26 September 2024 Cenacle Retreat House

General, Homilies, Homily, Soul Food

Psycho-Deaf

            I had the chance to work with the deaf for 3 years. They were religion teachers who taught in 3 public schools where there were special classes for deaf children. First, they taught me sign-language. Then, when my vocabulary was decent, I helped them teach religion. One of many things that made a lasting impression on me was that our deaf sisters & brothers prefer to be called “deaf,” not “deaf-mute,” & never “deaf-&-dumb,” which they find insulting. Back in my generation, “dumb” was just another word for “deaf,” like “black” was just another word for African-American, & “gay” another word for happy. Today, dumb no longer means mute. It means stupid. So, the deaf don’t want to be called dumb or mute. Because they’re not. The only reason they can’t talk is because they can’t hear their voices. But can the deaf be taught to talk? Absolutely! Many of them already do. In fact, the slogan the Pinoy deaf community goes: “We can do anything but hear.” And it’s true. There are deaf cooks in some airline commissaries, busboys in McDonald’s, mechanics in talyers, & even deaf missionary priests!             In the Philippines, schools for the deaf require at least 1 parent or sibling to learn sign language. Unless the family meets that requirement, they don’t accept the student. For good reason, right? Most often, it’s the mother who learns to sign bec. the father needs to work. Sadly, most Pinoy fathers couldn’t be bothered to learn even the simplest signs at home. I remember asking my deaf friends: “Your father: not sign; why?” They laughed. Then, then one boy answered: (lazy). Lazy. Deaf children feel that their fathers are too lazy to learn sign. “Eh, kinakausap naman siya ng nanay niya,” the fathers usually say. But signing doesn’t just enable you to talk to your deaf child. It enables you to listen. Precisely because not everyone can sign, the deaf have less people in the world to “hear” them.             We who can hear can suffer from deafness, too; psychological deafness, especially. Never mind the political & business worlds where the psychologically deaf thrive in scores. But in religious life & church life, we can actually be psychologically deaf. There seems to be direct proportion between psychological deafness & power, clout, accomplishments, money. Priest, sister, or lay, we’re fair game to psychological deafness if we’re not self-attentive. So accustomed to having our way because we’ve been superior or president for a long time, so effective in pulling in the most benefactors, so triumphant in raising funds—our bandwidth shrinks into to picking up just two signals: (a) the sound of our own voices, & (b) the voices of people who tell us what we want to hear. Never mind the rest. We have a noble excuse, anyway. “I’m doing all this for the church, for your religious order, for our community, for the poor.” When there is push-back, though, esp. from the unheard, the psychologically deaf play the “utang na loob” card: “You owe me. Our parish, community, congregation won’t be where it is right now if not because of my work, myconnections, my money.”             There must be such deep emptiness that psychologically deaf people feel inside but are terrified of admitting. Many times, they’re not listened to very much by people who really know them, like their family, their community, their own children. This is why when we’re highly accomplished but psychologically deaf, we do gain benefactors & patrons, sure! But we lose out on family. We lose true friends. Why don’t they admonish us when we’re psychologically deaf? Because no matter how loud they scream in our faces, they know us only too well. They know we won’t listen anyway. We hate the soundbyte of admonition. Jesus walked the deaf man away from the crowd to have a one-on-one with him. That way, the first voice the man would hear was his. We need that one-on-one with the Lord. We need him to clear out our deafness & set us free, so we can hear his voice again, way over ours. By the way, God speaks not in some other-worldly voice, but in the voices of good, well-meaning people who can call out the painful truth about us, & still love us. And not just by what they actually say, but also by what they are not saying. It takes grace from God to hear what people are not saying. Hopefully, then, the slogan of the physically deaf in the Philippines does not become ours: “We can do anything but hear.”   Homily delivered by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ on the 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time Cenacle Retreat House 7 September 2024 (Anticipated Sunday Mass)

General, Homilies, Homily, Soul Food

Homily | 14th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024

We encounter in our readings today Paul’s struggle with his own weaknesses and the rejection of Jesus in His hometown. These passages invite us to reflect on our call as modern-day prophets in an unbelieving world and the need to counter familiarity and prejudice as we live out our Christian faith. In his Letter to the Corinthians, Paul speaks of his “thorn in the flesh,” a weakness that keeps him humble. He learns that God’s grace is sufficient and that His power is made perfect in weakness. Paul’s acceptance of his limitations and reliance on God’s grace serves as a profound lesson and reminder for us as well, for it is in our weaknesses that God’s strength shines through. In the passage from Mark’s Gospel, we witness Jesus returning to His hometown, and yet, His teachings are met with skepticism and disbelief. The people struggle to overcome their preconceived notions about Jesus, the carpenter’s son. Familiar with His humble origins, they simply cannot see beyond their preconceived notions. Their lack of faith hinders them from experiencing the fullness of His power and this lack prevents them from witnessing the fullness of God’s grace in their midst.. This passage reminds us that even Jesus faced skepticism and disbelief, particularly from those who knew Him best; and worse, Jesus himself was rejected. But Jesus, in His infinite wisdom, challenges us to see beyond the familiar and recognize the divine in the ordinary. In the words of St. Ignatius, to find God in all things, even in the mundane and the ordinary. Like Jesus and Paul, we are also called to be prophets in our own time. This means speaking the truth of the Gospel, even when it is uncomfortable or unpopular; especially when it is uncomfortable and unpopular. It means standing firm in our faith, despite the challenges and rejections we may face. The world today, much like Nazareth, often struggles with familiarity and prejudice, making it difficult to recognize the divine in the ordinary. As Christians, we must actively work to counter these attitudes. We must see each person as a child of God, worthy of love and respect, regardless of their background or circumstances. This requires humility and openness, recognizing that we too can be blinded by our prejudices. We need to allow God’s grace to transform our hearts and minds, enabling us to see others through His eyes. As disciples of Christ, we are all called to be exemplars in overcoming preconceived notions and selfish pride. If we are humble and honest enough to admit it, our own pride and preconceived notions can act as barriers, preventing us from fully embracing God’s plan for our lives. Like the people in Jesus’ hometown, we may be tempted to limit the possibilities of grace by confining God to our preconceived expectations. But God’s wisdom always surpasses our understanding, and His grace can transform the ordinary into the extraordinary. And so we draw strength and inspiration from today’s sacred scriptures. Like Paul, let us embrace our weaknesses, knowing and believing that God’s grace is sufficient. Like Jesus, let us persist in our mission, in our respective vocations, even in the face of rejection. With the help and Grace of God, may we strive towards greater humility, dedication, and openness to the unexpected, allowing God’s infinite love to transform our hearts and work miracles in our lives. May we be instruments of God’s unfathomable mercy, reaching out to those in need with open hearts and minds. May we become modern-day prophets, boldly proclaiming the Gospel and breaking down barriers of familiarity and prejudice. In doing so, we allow God’s power to work through us, bringing His love and truth to an unbelieving world.   Homily delivered by Fr. Mamert Mañus, SJ  14th Sunday in Ordinary Time  2024 (Cycle B (Mark 6:1-6) Cenacle Retreat House

General, Homilies, Homily, Soul Food

Loving Through Miracles | 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time

There are only three instances in the Gospels where Jesus raised the dead back to life. Our Gospel today is one among the three – the raising of the daughter of Jairus, a synagogue official. This account occurs in the three synoptic Gospels – in Matthew, Mark and Luke. The second one is the raising of the widow’s son at Nain, in the Gospel of Luke. The third one is the raising of Lazarus, the close friend of Jesus, in the Gospel of John. Of the different miracles that Jesus performed his power to bring the dead back to life set him apart from other so-called God-sent prophets and ministers. For many who witnessed these miracles, it confirmed to them his divinity, that He was indeed the Son of God, the Messiah. In their minds, no ordinary human person could do such a thing. This was something supernatural. Jesus was exceptional. There was no one like Him. He was indeed God. Everyone was left amazed and captivated. Suddenly, they couldn’t get enough of him. Easily, these miracles could have been Christ’s answer to those who doubted his person and capability – to his detractors, haters and bashers. If Christ were like the social media content creators of our time, this could easily boost his popularity, engagement and influence – instant likes, hearts, shares and subscribes. These miracles would definitely be viral. He could have monetized these miracles, maximizing the benefit he could draw from them. This, of course, was the farthest thing in his mind. He did not do such a thing. In fact, he did the opposite. In the end of the Gospel, Jesus issued a gag order to the people there: No one should know, not a word about this. He did not want publicity. He did not want popularity. He did not want people’s admiration and veneration. It definitely was not for the clout, not for the likes or hearts, not to increase his followers. What are they for then for our Lord? What’s his motivation? What made him do those wonders? The truth is the miracles he performed were always rooted in his desire to attend to the needs of those who were seeking comfort and consolation. They were fruits of his mercy, compassion and love for people. He wanted to assure them that God was not blind and deaf to their pain and suffering. He wanted to make them experience intimately God’s grace. It was never about proving himself, being acknowledged and worshipped as God. For our Lord, the great wonders he had done and continues to do at the present time are not intended to show off his divinity, but to profoundly express his total solidarity with people, with us – embracing fully human life. He is one with us in our grief, sorrow, distress and agony. He knows we need him the most during our moments of vulnerability and weakness. Just like in the case of Jairus, helpless and desperate, not knowing how to save his daughter at the point of death, Christ meets us and attends to our needs. Especially during moments when there seems nothing more that can be done, when things are impossible already, our Lord steps in and saves the day for us. He is there because he is the Lord of life whose love for us is everlasting. His desire is for life to flourish in us, for us to live life to the fullest, with meaning and purpose. As affirmed in our First Reading today from the Book of Wisdom: “God did not make death, nor does he rejoice in the destruction of the living. For he fashioned all things that they might have being; and the creatures of the world are wholesome, and there is not a destructive drug among them nor any domain of the netherworld on earth, for justice is undying.” Brothers and sisters, in which particular area of our lives, in what particular vulnerability, in what specific concern do we need God most in our life at the present time? Can we allow him to attend to us, to work in us, to do his wonder in our lives? Can we allow him to bring back to life parts of our selves that have become dead? May we put our complete faith and trust in our Lord who never abandons his people so that as our Psalm today proclaim, we can likewise declare: “I will praise you Lord, for you have rescued me.” Homily delivered by Fr. Erwin “Bok” Arandia, SJ 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time 2024 Cenacle Retreat House

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Sleeveless | Jn 15:9-17

      A very nice lady walked up to me after Mass one time. She said she finally went to this church where people traditionally go before traveling abroad. She’d heard so much about it in the past. A very important journey was coming up, so she finally decided to pilgrimage from Parañaque, eastwards, & hear Mass at said church. When it was her turn to receive communion, the lay minister looked at her…& told her to step aside. “Bawal ang sleeveless dito.” “Fr. Arnel, look at this dress. This was what I wore.” Her dress was very classy. All of her chest & back were covered. The hem fell just at her knees. Wala nga lang manggas. “That’s the first & the last time I’m going to that church, Father.”             Jesus was a devout Jew. He knew all the rules. As young as 12, he was talking about the Torah w/ rabbis, one time, at the Temple, where he lost all sense of time, & went 2 days missing! The boy Jesus loved the Torah that much that young! But when he grew up, he started giving off the vibe that he was violating the rules left & right, 613 to be exact, pursuant to the major 10. Breached the official physical distance from the sick, disabled, lepers, loose women, tax collectors, possessed, the dead (& the sleeveless). Worse, he was seen touching them, engaging them, engaging their demons (!). What undefiled, God-fearing Jew would do all that w/ people beyond the pale & past salvation? So into the Law once-upon-a-time, so out of it now, what happened?             Well, the people that the rules commanded to step aside became Jesus’ friends. That was his mission, in the best way he knew the Father: to make these people his friends. No one has greater love, he said, than to offer one’s life for one’s friends. Did Jesus love friends more than Law? No. Because on the same breath, he said, “If you keep my commandments, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments & remain in his love.” He kept his Father’s commandments. He didn’t toss them out to put his own law in, no. In what looked like brazen law-breaking, Jesus was restoring the true spirit behind God’s Law, the original purpose for the Law, which was twofold: love God & love neighbor. The clearest sign of both? Laying your life down for them.             My students are tired of hearing me say that I feel very blessed to have been raised in a faith that loves a person, not just follow a book of laws; a kind, brave, loving, real person. We have a book, of course. But Scriptures aren’t just about rules, the what’s. They’re about Jesus of Nazareth, the Who. Through this real flesh-&-blood who, God revealed beyond reasonable doubt who he is, what he wants, & what he’s really like. If we still ever wonder who God is, what God wants, what God’s like, we’ve had the answer all this time. Jesus is who God is, what God wants, & what God is like, 100 percent, God’s complete mirror image, chip off the old block, the fullest revelation of the Father. Sure, we can argue, disagree, debate over the correct interpretation of Scriptures & the rules of our religion. But our final criterion is & must be a Person. And all our arguments & debates aside, our final guide question should be: what did Jesus do? Once we answer that question that should put an end to our doctrinal & moral altercations, we will realize that the highest value Jesus upheld was not who’s right about the law, but who in fact still loved. Love for people was always Jesus’ highest value. I dare say, love for people more than rules, principles, & personal projects.             When we find ourselves so attached to the what’s of our religion, we have got to check in case we’re already detached from the Who this religion is precisely all about. Often the pitfall of the lawful who slowly turn heartless: wanting always to be official, they turn officious. Will die Christian, Catholic, but will never be inconvenienced for the poor. Gunning passionately for salvation in heaven, but turning piously savage on earth.             Sana hindi mangyari sa atin ang nangyayari sa Israel at Hamas. Two contenders claiming God is on their side, proof-texted by books of laws & words of prophets. But the proof-text is a Person, some part of me sometimes wants to scream. And he ain’t your imam or your rabbi, or even Muhammad or Moses, w/ all due respect. The proof-text is Jesus of Nazareth…who happens to come from your neck of the woods, kalahi nyo’t kababayan ninyo!             In many wars today, global or personal, visible or invisible, we’re really willing to die for hate & w/ hatred. We often go wrong by hate, esp. when we think we’re doing it for love. That’s just absurd. Jesus assures us that we can rarely go wrong by love. But real love, per our Proof-text, is when we take the side of people & when we’re willing to lay down our lives for them, more than for ideology or orthodoxy. Jesus took a side; the side esp. of those who were told to step aside. And they became his friends: the helpless, the homeless, the joyless, penniless, right-less, & why not, the sleeveless!   Homily delivered by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ 6th Sunday of Easter 2024 Cenacle Retreat House

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Divine Mercy Sunday Homily

An image I love, A song I hate, and my favorite Poem about God’s Mercy : Things that have helped me pray on Divine Mercy: Part 1: The Image I Love (from the film “Contact” starring Jodie Foster, Mathew Mcconaughey circa 1997, Sci-Fi, Science and Religion, Belief and unbelief) In the film, Jodie foster plays an astronomer, Dr. Ellie Arroway who heads a team of scientists / and together they are the first to decipher radio signals from intelligent beings from another galaxy. Together, she and her team begin to plan the first expedition to meet this alien race, but while she is the most qualified and deserving of scientists, she is barred from the mission by politicians who disqualify her on the basis of her being an unbeliever. Their thinking was that in sending a human being who would represent the human race to meet another sentient race for the first time, how could they send someone who didn’t believe in God when 75% of humanity did? If you haven’t seen it, it’s worth watching. But before we digress any further let me get to my favorite image which comes at the end of the movie. After her long and arduous struggles through the vastness of space, time and interiority, Dr. Arroway stares long past the desert horizon into a star-laden sunset and takes from the ground a bit of sand, and then gazes upon these particles of sand that sparkle in the palm of her hand. So beautifully, the image suggests that each planet is but like a grain of sand held tenderly in God’s hand. And the image speaks to me of how tiny we are in the scheme of things. How tiny we are in this scheme of things, and yet…this God, this force behind all the powers of the heavens and the earth, now alive in the person of the Risen Lord, is so patient with his disciples who are so slow to learn. Apparition after apparition he must teach them and encourage them little by little. Meeting them where they are in their fear, and leading them slowly to freedom and a deeper sense of mission. How tiny we are in this scheme of things, and yet this God to whom all the galaxies are but sand particles upon God’s hand, obliges Thomas in the pettiness of his pagtatampo. This Jesus who gave his all on the way of the cross and on the cross, has no qualms giving in to the demands of his emotional disciples. How tiny we are in the scheme of things, and yet our Lord makes Godself so available and so present to us who come to God in our day to day. With our needs and hopes and deepest desirings that God bothers to listen to and know so intimately and respond to. The enormity of God’s love set against our very smallness is Divine mercy. That is why this simple image of sand upon one’s hand is so powerful to me. Chapter 2: The song I came to hate : FATHER MERCY Of course there’s a funny story behind why I came to hate this beautiful song. And it is from my 30-day retreat at the SHN which ended just last March 7. Why did I come to hate it then? Kasi naman, yung choir po ng mga seminarista nung 2nd week of the exercises, EVERYDAY kinakanta yung FATHER MERCY! One day, FATHER MERCY, was the entrance song, another day it was the communion song, and other days it was the FINAL song. (Laughter) There I was, already long past praying on my sins and God’s mercy, already enjoying the second week which was mostly chill time with the Lord, hearing this song over and over.So I refused  in silent protest, to sing  “Father Mercy, Father Hear me, why have you gone from me? Broken, humbled, waiting hopeful…Father return to me.” But Why? Why was I refusing to sing this? Because I thought, it had been several days since I already felt so blessed by a good general confession and felt “freed” from my own personal sins and was in such a joyful state of the second week, so it seemed not to make sense to me anymore. BUT, after the 4th consecutive day that the choir sang this song, the 4th consecutive day that I was annoyed, I whispered to God at the end of the mass – baka naman po may sinasabi kayo sa akin ano po? And so prayed for openness of heart. After that, believe it or not… without getting into the gory details of my prayer periods, in several meditations that followed, my openness brought sin and God’s mercy back into the picture in a most unexpected and profoundly meaningful way. I began to see that even the context of the Call of the King was precisely a sinful world, and that Jesus’ public ministry was mercy in action. “Mercy” meant Jesus was returning love and forgiveness for all the sin and hurtfulness of humankind.  And I began to realize how selfish and narrow-minded I was in the past to be thinking only about me and my own sinfulness when praying “Lord Have Mercy”. Ang yabang ko to think that it made no more sense to me to say “Lord Have Mercy” at times when I already felt forgiven … when in fact the meaning and depth of any prayer beseeching the Lord’s mercy lies in our acknowledgement that we are part of a whole history of sin, and of a humanity that has been so deeply hurtful throughout all time.  Wars, man-made disasters, greed-induced famines, slavery,  human trafficking, genocide. These are not only of the past, but are on-going. And these are not only their sins, but ours too, all of humanity’s. And if not for God’s mercy, we might long all have been wiped out of existence by our own wrongdoings. Other than our smallness, the enormity of our

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Easter Vigil Homily 2024

Grace: I beg for the grace of being able to enter into the joy and consolation of Jesus as he savors the victory of his risen life. (Spiritual Exercises of St Ignatius, 221) In a forum on the situation in Myanmar last November, a local development worker shared with us the story of a Myanmar mother who lost her son in a military bombing of their village. The worker showed a poignant picture of the mother walking behind her dead son’s body during a funeral entourage. The mother was desperately looking for a place to bury her son. They had to keep moving from one village to another due to the relentless bombing of villages and the refusal of some villages to accept the burial of someone not from their village due to customary practices. Thankfully, one village finally accepted her son’s burial. We were deeply shocked by the situation. The local aid worker went on to narrate that for development workers like her, the situation was getting riskier due to the increasing military harassment and threats to their lives. United Nations workers were leaving due to the grave dangers in fear for their lives. When asked why she remained and continued to work despite the dangers, she soberly said, “If I left who would take care of her people?” She went on to say that it was her faith that she desperately held on to give her courage and hope amid all the dangers and seeming hopelessness of the situation. These stories from Myanmar and other areas of conflict and war in Ukraine, Russia, Gaza, Israel, Sudan, and Haiti continue to haunt us who long to see peace and human progress in our deeply troubled world. We long to make a difference in addressing the longstanding and intractable problems of poverty and deprivation, forced migration, climate change, impunity of dictators, human trafficking, and many more. For people in the margins like the Myanmar mother and development workers, where will their hope lie? For the young people of Myanmar who are now being compulsorily conscripted into the military to fight their people, where will they find hope? There are no easy answers. As I reflected on the situation of Myanmar and similar situations of seeming hopelessness, I recalled a beautiful article by James Hanvey on Holy Saturday entitled, “Waiting to Cross Over.” He says that Holy Saturday is not a day in-between between Good Friday and Easter Sunday without any value of its own. It is a day that resists all of our attempts to understand it, but nonetheless, we must ‘live in the realities of Holy Saturday’. In the article, he says, “Only in the silence of Holy Saturday can we see the true terror of the cross. It exposes the ultimate source of the secular gods’ power – the god of this world, the god of despair; the god who can crucify God… If we have the courage to place our ear to the silence of Holy Saturday we will hear a savage laughter. It is the gods of this world laughing at our hope for a Saviour.” He goes on to say, “If we can stay in this strange and desolate place waiting, our spiritual eyes become accustomed to this other dimension. We will begin to discern that it has brought us to a way that only Christ has opened up. In the very waiting and living in our own powerlessness, we have already faced the terror of the instruments, the torture, the primal fear that laid its claim upon us. If only we can stay there waiting we will begin to understand that this silence and emptiness is not God’s powerlessness, (not) his death – but his Sabbath: it is an end; it is a completion and it is also a new beginning. It is truly a ‘holy’ Saturday, not an interlude but a hallowing of all of our times of waiting. Without it we would never see into the depths of Good Friday or adjust our understanding to grasp the magnitude and meaning of Easter morning.” We, all of us, are mostly in the time of Holy Saturday in our lives, in the here and not yet of our salvation. The work of salvation has been completed in the definitive act of Jesus’ death and resurrection. And yet, we know that our salvation in Jesus Christ is still being worked out in our lives as we commit ourselves to live the death and resurrection of Jesus in our daily lives. Let me end by sharing with you a quote from Pope Francis in his opening address to the Jesuits of the General Congregation 36 when he told them: ask persistently for consolation. He says, “In the Exercises, Ignatius asks his companions to contemplate “the task of consolation” as something specific to the Resurrected Christ. (Spiritual Exercises, 224) It is the specific task of the Society to console the Christian faithful and to help them in their discernment so that the enemy of human nature does not distract us from joy: the joy of evangelizing, the joy of the family, the joy of the Church, the joy of creation… Let us never be robbed of that joy, neither through discouragement when faced with the great measure of evil in the world and misunderstandings among those who intend to do good, nor let it be replaced with vain joys that are easily bought and sold in any shop.” As we face our world badly marred by the dark forces of sin, hatred, and division, we are invited at Easter to beg for the grace to enter into the joy and consolation of the Risen Jesus. We are reminded that it is not a joy we can obtain through sheer human will or effort. It is a gift that can only come when we allow God to make real his Son’s passion and death in our lives through walking with and committing ourselves to our suffering sisters

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