Cenacle Bicentenary Launching Mass 1 February 2026 | Cenacle Retreat House Our Bicentennial Year was launched on February 1st all around the world in our communities. In Asia ceremony held in Quezon City Manila Philippines. The Mass was presided over by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ, a very good friend of the Cenacle
Memorial of Saint Paul Miki and Companions, Martyrs Homily delivered by Fr. John Chong, SJ Today we commemorate the Twenty-Six Martyrs of Japan. When persecution began in January 1597, twenty-four people six foreigners, fifteen Japanese Franciscans, and three Jesuits-were forced to march from Kyoto through various regions all the way to Nagasaki (850 km). The intention was to warn the people that this would be the fate of anyone who believed in Catholicism. Along the way, there were two companions. When officials asked them whether they were Catholics and they answered that they were, they too were added to the procession, bringing the total to twenty-six. On February 5, 1597, they were crucified on a hill overlooking the city of Nagasaki, where Catholicism had been most flourishing. In Japan, February 5 is observed as the feast of the martyrs. However, in the General Roman Calendar, since it coincides with the memorial of Saint Agatha, their feast is celebrated on February 6. As we offer this Mass, let us honor the faith of the martyrs who gave their lives for their belief. With gratitude for our own faith, let us renew our commitment to live it more faithfully. In Shusaku Endo’s novel “Silence”, various methods of torture are described. Victims were branded with hot irons, their limbs were cut off with saws, and boiling water from sulfur springs was poured over their bodies. Some were put to death by crucifixion, as the Twenty-Six Martyrs were, while others were tied to crosses set up along the seashore, where they drowned when the tide came in. One particularly brutal method of torture, known as ana-tsurushi, involved binding the entire body with ropes and suspending the person upside down in a pit. A small hole was made in the forehead or temple so that blood would drip out slowly, causing death over time. During this period of persecution, many believers fled to the Philippines or Macao, while others went into hiding in various parts of Japan, concealing their faith as they struggled to survive. The Christians who lived in hiding were called Hidden Christians, or Kakure Kirishitan. For nearly two hundred years, they preserved the faith handed down from their parents, holding on to it in hope and waiting for the day when freedom would be restored. About three hours by ferry from Nagasaki lie the Goto Islands. They are breathtakingly beautiful. To think that such a tragic history unfolded in a place of such beauty reminds us of the deep irony of human life. On the Goto Islands, there are fifty mission stations. From just one of these parishes, it is said that two bishops and an entire busload of priests and sisters have emerged. At last, in 1865, the Japanese government permitted religious freedom in order to engage in trade with Western nations. When Missionaries with white beards appeared in Nagasaki, the people recognized them. Just as they had been told by their ancestors, they asked three questions: Do you honor the Blessed Virgin Mary? Do you marry? Do you follow the liturgical calendar? When the answer to all three questions was “Yes,” they declared, “Our hears are the same as yours, Father.” They then asked where the statue of the Blessed Virgin was. When they were led to her statue, they knelt down and prayed, it was the moment when the chains of two hundred years were finally broken. Now it is our turn. We are living in a world very different from theirs. What, then, can we learn from the martyrs? I have reflected on three points. First, the martyrs make it unmistakably clear that our faith is not a hobby or a mere decoration of life. They testify that faith can be a value so serious that it is worth one’s very life. Do you agree with this? Giving a testimony for justice and right, it means death as shown in today’s Gospel. Let us ask ourselves honestly. Second, the martyrs died not only to defend their faith, but also to uphold human dignity and the value of conscience. Human conscience is an inviolable domain. By laying down their lives, the martyrs bore witness to the truth that every human person possesses the freedom of conscience. Again, we find a good example in St. John, the Baptist. Third, The martyrs bore witness to their love for God and neighbor even in the face of persecution. They were in a situation where there was no other choice. Their fundamental motivation was not a hatred of the world or of life, but a profound love for God, for others, for life itself, for conscience, and for human dignity. Likewise, if we love God, our neighbors, and life, and respect conscience and human dignity in our daily lives, we live in unity with the martyrs. Let us, today. give thanks to the martyrs and strive to put love into practice in our own lives.
The Reward of Waiting Homily delivered by Fr. Herbie Santos, Parish Priest of Our Lady of Pentecost Parish, on the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord | 2 February 2026 Today is a grace-filled convergence of celebrations. We mark the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, the World Day of Consecrated Life, and the Bicentenary of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Cenacle. All three speak with one voice about waiting, light, and fulfillment – about lives shaped by attentiveness to God’s timing and God’s presence. In the Gospel, Mary and Joseph bring the Child Jesus to the Temple. It is an ordinary act of obedience, but within that simple moment, God fulfills promises made long ago. Simeon and Anna, who have waited for years, finally see what their hearts have been longing for. This scene beautifully mirrors the charism and long history of the Cenacle Sisters, whose mission is to help others listen, discern, and recognize God quietly at work in their lives. For our reflection on today’s readings, allow me to share with you three points for your consideration. The first point is this: Waiting is part of what God wants to teach us. Simeon and Anna teach us something very important today: waiting is not wasted time. Simeon is described as someone who was “righteous and devout, awaiting the consolation of Israel.” Anna spent decades in prayer and fasting in the Temple. Neither of them rushed God. Neither demanded answers. They trusted that God would fulfill His promise – in His time. In the first reading from Malachi, we hear about the Lord coming suddenly to His Temple. But before the coming, there is purification, preparation, and refining. God works slowly, deeply, and patiently. You, my dear Cenacle Sisters, understand this well. Your ministry of spiritual direction and retreats is built on teaching people how to wait with God – to listen, to sit with questions, to resist the pressure to rush decisions or force clarity. In retreats, people often arrive anxious, wanting immediate answers. Yet what they discover is that God often speaks in silence, over time, gently shaping the heart like a potter shaping a clay jar. Waiting purifies our desires. It teaches us humility. It trains us to trust. What feels like delay is often God deepening our capacity to receive. And so it is good to ask ourselves, “Am I tired of waiting? How can I see the good things God is doing to me while I wait?” The second reflection point is this: The only way to recognize the “Light of the World” in our own lives is through constant prayer and worship. Simeon recognizes Jesus immediately – not because of outward signs, but because his heart had been trained by prayer. Anna recognizes Him too, because she never left the Temple, worshiping day and night. Their eyes could see what others missed because their lives were anchored in God’s presence. Simeon proclaims Jesus as “a light for revelation to the Gentiles.” But light must be received by eyes accustomed to it. Without prayer, the light of Christ can pass right in front of us, unnoticed. This is where your mission, dear Cenacle Sisters, shines so beautifully. Through retreats and spiritual accompaniment, you help people cultivate an inner attentiveness – to notice movements of grace, to recognize when God is drawing near, to discern His voice amid the noise of daily life. You remind us that prayer is not an accessory to life; it is what allows us to recognize Christ when He comes to us in unexpected ways. In a world full of distractions, constant prayer and worship are not luxuries. They are necessities if we are to see clearly. And so it is good to ask ourselves, “How do I ensure that I recognize Jesus when He enters into my life?” The third and last reflection point is this: To accomplish what God asks us to do is to live a life that is full and with no regrets. After seeing the Child Jesus, Simeon says one of the most moving prayers in Scripture: “Now, Lord, you may let your servant go in peace.” He can say this because his life is complete. He has done what God asked of him! Anna, too, spends the rest of her days speaking about the Child to all who were awaiting redemption. This is the peace that comes from fidelity – not from a life without hardship, but from a life lived in alignment with God’s will. Two hundred years ago, the Congregation of Our Lady of the Cenacle was founded with a simple but courageous response to God’s call. Over generations, Cenacle Sisters have dedicated their lives to helping others encounter God, discern His will, and live with purpose. And now, dear Sisters, your lives remind us that fulfillment does not come from doing everything, but from doing what God asks of us. A life lived in obedience to God may not always be easy, but it is a life that can say, at the very end, “I am at peace.” And so it is good to ask ourselves, “What is it that I still need to do in order to be at peace and ready to meet my Creator?” My dear sisters, today we give thanks for the witness of consecrated life, for the quiet fidelity of Simeon and Anna, and for the 200 years of grace given through the Congregation of Our Lady of the Cenacle. May your loving example teach us how to wait well, pray deeply, and live fully – so that when we meet the Lord, we too may be at peace. Amen!
Cracks of Beauty Homily delivered by Fr Arnel Aquino, SJ on the Launching Mass for the Cenacle Bicentenary Celebration Our dear Cenacle sisters have carefully chosen the theme of earthen vessels for their 200th anniversary. When we think of earthen vessels, we straightaway think of Jeremiah & his very comforting metaphor of God as a potter, and we, the vessels that emerge from ugly, formless lumps of clay in God’s masterful hands. But as it happens, clay pots that we are, we get knocked over & fall & break. This is where Kintsugi comes in as an accompanying theme the sisters have chosen for their anniversary: the Japanese art of repairing broken vessels, but in a very distinct way. Once upon a time, a Japanese shogun accidentally broke his favorite ceramic tea bowl from China. He sent it back to China to be restored. But the bowl came back like Frankenstein; the shards hideously stapled together by crude metal braces. Disgusted, the shogun asked his craftsmen to do something, anything, and bring his poor mangkok back to its native perfection. So, they unstapled the broken pieces & stuck them back together w/ lacquer blended w/ powdered gold. Gold gave the lacquer durability for hold and a glimmer beautiful to behold. The shogun’s craftsmen did not even try to hide the cracks, no. They still very well ran up, down, & around the restored mangkok. But how the cracks shimmered now in gentle magnificence! By the way, the first sight of a kinstsugied vessel can be quite jarring. The gold just jumps right at you. But stay with it for a while and you realize, “Ah, the breaks are actually beautiful.” Stay a little bit more & you realize, “Ah, the cracks recite the poetry.” Stay a little bit longer still and you realize, “Ah, brokenness is not hidden. It is humbly honored.” A precious blessing we’ve received from God is the faithful accompaniment of our Cenacle sisters. As the Divine Potter shapes & reshapes our awkward, lumpy selves in his firm, gentle hands, a Cenacle sister has been there to help keep the potter’s wheel turning. And every time life knocks us over & we fall & we break, a Cenacle sister has helped us pick up the broken pieces of ourselves, so we can together offer them back for the Divine Craftsman to do kintsugi on us. For when we needed someone to get us to somewhere we can pull our life together, a Cenacle sister was there to walk us through a spirituality. When we were beside ourselves w/ joy & wanted to celebrate how life was turning out, a Cenacle sister was there for a quiet gratitude recollection. When we kept waking up from nightmares after a breakup, a separation, an abuse, a Cenacle sister was there to paramedic us through deep, long, existential breaths of prayer. When we felt ganged up on & pushed against the wall at work, or in our community, or by our very own family, a Cenacle sister was there to open up a space for our tears & our pain, then, to remind us that in God’s eyes, we have always been enough. And when we were the ones who were desperate to control others, when we were the ones hurtful in our dominance, when we did unto others what we precisely suffered through ourselves, a Cenacle sister was also there for the gentle scolding. Our Cenacle sisters tirelessly teach that we need to cooperate with God in shaping & reshaping us into vessels of grace. But they never want us to forget that God was only too happy to create someone other to Godself, different from Godself, fragile, yes, but lovely, intricate, beautiful. The Cenacle sisters taught us to say, “Maganda ako! Magaling ako!” But when we’re knocked over, and we fall, & we break, the sisters help us admit our own carelessness, our mindlessness, our refusal to be still, and to let God be the God, ‘yun bang mga ambag natin sa sarili nating pagkabasag. But they’re there to pick up the shards w/ us & offer them to God, so God can do what God does best to broken humanity, divine kintsugi. Why are our dear Cenacle sisters able to do all this, sisters & brothers? Because like us, they are vessels themselves, far from flawless. May mga galos din sila. Nasugatan, nagpasa sa mga kalmot at suntok ng buhay. Sure, they’ve seen through much filling with God’s grace. Pero nauubos din sila. Hindi lang natin nalalaman. Tahimik lang. Because even if God lines their brokenness in gold, sisters & brothers, our sisters know they should never wear their tragedies like medals & play the victim. Rather, they integrate their brokenness into their wholeness precisely by helping us do the very same. But not crying out, not shouting, not making their voices heard in the streets. That’s kintsugi right there. Brokenness accepted & restored, but unhidden & part of the overall design. In that first ever cenacle where Jesus ate his last ever meal w/ his friends, he must’ve felt utterly broken-hearted. He knew his enemies would soon splinter him & take him down. Sa lahat ng kabutihang ginawa niya, siya pa rin ang masama. Sa lahat pagbubuo niya sa mga nabiyak at nabasag, siya pa rin ang bibiyakin at babasagin ng mga nagkukunwaring matuwid, buo, at walang kalamat-lamat. So, what did Jesus do? He broke the bread that was his body & poured out the wine that was his blood. The heart of kintsugi. To be life-giving to others by being broken into many pieces. To forgive & be forgiven by being emptied out. Whenever we celebrate the Last Supper in the upper room at every mass, sisters & brothers, we are to ever remember: Jesus binds our brokenness with his own. Yaman din lamang at bungi-bungi na tayo, ang gamit niyang pambuo ay ang pira-piraso na rin niyang katauhan. At ang kanyang panghinang? His never-fading, never-failing, intricate, luminous love. Dear Cenacle Sisters, congratulations on your 200th anniversary of existence in the world. Thank you again &
Cenacle 200 | Song Sheet & Ritual Prayer GENTLE REMINDER:Please be a considerate and responsible userof your mobile phone during the Mass.
Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas to our family, Cenacle family, friends, benefactors, mission partners & collaborators and retreatants!
Hush Homily delivered by Fr. Jose Ramon (Jett) Villarin, SJ Christmas Eve Mass 2025 There is no noise in space. The light of a star is quiet. The quiet belies the immense power of atoms firing of in a nuclear furnace. We tend to link light with sound, as with lightning and thunder, or even a firecracker. But the light of a star, like sunlight, is silent. The sound of Christmas is like that of starlight, streaming through the dark, steadfast yet silent, laden with power. Of course there are other sounds that accompany Christmas. We know these all too well. These are the sounds of gifts being opened, carols being sung, the laughter of children, the table chitchat of grownups. And yes there is the sound of Jose Mari Chan as early as September, singing Christmas in our hearts. But the real sound of Christmas is like the silent light of a star. We can catch it in the dark. We only need to hush all the hurry to listen to it “truly in our hearts”. And so tonight, for a few moments here at our vigil, we will be quiet. We will set the other sounds aside to listen to the sound of Christmas, the sound of God coming into our world. The sound of Christmas is the sound of Jesus, the Word of God. His is the sound of God who “will not wrangle or cry aloud, nor will anyone hear his voice in the streets. He will not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick until he brings justice to victory.” (Mt 12:19-20) And so we shall befriend silence to listen to the sound of Christmas. That means dialing down the chatter and turning away from the noisy lights of our little screens. Those little screens are the shining lights of the attention economy. Money competes for our attention. And so our attention is fractured by relentless noise, images, words, and never ending scrolls of sensory delights that assault us from all over. To listen to the sound of Christmas, we need to welcome silence into our lives. That means cutting down on our quarrelsome ways and refraining from having the last word. There are no words when we are before mystery, before something truly wondrous and ineffable. In the presence of the deeply joyful or sorrowful or glorious, we fumble with words because words are not enough or words are just too much. When we mourn those who are no longer with us this Christmas, when we are going through unspeakable pain, we are quiet; to those we have loved and lost, we over a moment of silence. Silence can be a fearful thing. We equate silence with nothing, and sound with something. We connect silence with death; and sound with things that are alive. We can be as afraid of silence as we are of nothing. But silence is not nothing. The quiet light of a star is not nothing. Silence is not the absence of life but the fullness of presence. It is the space we hollow out inside us to let the holy come in. True silence is presence, the quiet of hope, the stillness of faithful waiting. It is silence that settles us down. When we unplug, when we let go of the headphones and microphones, we are met with silence. When we go to a chapel and learn to pray again, silence. Even when we are quiet, we can saturate silence with white noise, i.e. with a lot of background hissing and rewinding and regretting. Let silence just help us relish and rest and breathe. We need silence to know the value of words. Words are plentiful. You don’t need to be an economist to know that when something is plentiful, it becomes cheap. Salitang mura. Words can be weapons sharp enough to cut people down. There is a di8erence between being talked at and talked to. We cannot understand each other when there is a lot of talking at, not much talking to, much less listening to and listening for one another. If words can hurt, words can also heal and rebuild and reconnect us to each other. Simple words really. Words like “thank you, forgive me, sorry, I love you, I forgive you”. The writer Pico Iyer has this to say about words: “We all know how treacherous are words, and how often we use them to paper over embarrassment, or emptiness, or fear of the larger spaces that silence brings. “Words, words, words” commit us to positions we do not really hold, the imperatives of chatter; words are what we use for lies, false promises and gossip. We babble with strangers; with intimates we can be silent…. In love, we are speechless; in awe, we say, words fail us.” This Christmas, amid the merriment, let us listen to the quiet light of Bethlehem’s star, streaming into our night, laden with power. This is the sound of Christmas, the sound of God fulfilling his promise. It is the sound of Jesus, the Word of God, breaking the silence, speaking to our worry and fear, telling us we will never be alone, assuring us how much we are loved. Jose Ramon T Villarin SJChristmas Eve Mass at the Cenacle 24 December 2025
CESAP Christmas Party 2025 21 December 2025 | CESAP (Cenacle Educational and Spiritual Assistance Program) Scholars’ Christmas Party We are grateful to Fr Nono Alfonso, SJ for presiding over the Mass, celebrated just before the party. Thank you to all our friends and sponsors who made this event possible! Be our mission partners! Contact us for more details.
Distribution of Pamaskong Noche Buena We are deeply grateful to Tanging Yaman Foundation and to all our generous friends/benefactors for making this Christmas gift-giving possible. Nearly 100 children from Tindog, Medellin went home with happy hearts and full tummies! We also distributed Christmas Packages to some the elderly in Inayawan and Tindog. We are also grateful to all our volunteers who helped with the repacking and distribution! Malipayong Pasko sa tanan!
O Emmanuel Reflect on this antiphon during the day as you prepare your heart for the Lord’s coming.