General – Page 11

Heaven

March 28, 2020

A reflection on the readings of the 5th Sunday of Lent 2020 by Sr. Yna, rc Watch the following video first before you begin to read the reflection: To close A monastery Death surrounds us. It is a sobering reality, to say the least. For most, it is frightening. I suppose because the deaths we witness are almost always riddled with pain and suffering. It surely is mysterious, for we would never know what the experience is actually like until we are there; no one has ever died and lived to tell the tale. At 3.50 into the video you’ll see a bent, wobbling elderly monk leaving his room for the last time, with a suitcase of what seems to be all that he has. And then the interviewer asks: “Where are you going next, what happens to you?” The monk points up and says, “heaven” and lets out a chuckle. The chuckle struck me. It sounds to me like, “I believe, but I am afraid too.” Wisdom of old age. In the gospel today we listen to an interesting exchange between Martha and Jesus. It might help to put a context to the scene: both of them are faced with death, both are grieving. Jesus said to [Martha], “Your brother will rise.” Martha said to him, “I know he will rise, in the resurrection on the last day.” …Jesus said, “Take away the stone.”Martha said to him, “Lord, by now there will be a stench; he has been dead for four days.”Jesus said to her, “Did I not tell you that if you believe you will see the glory of God?” Jn 11:24, 39-40 Martha does not seem to be in the same wavelength as Jesus here. Like us with God, all too often. How many times do we jump to preset spiritual scripts in our head when God invites us to listen and simply be present? How often do we question the future when God wants us to trust his hand in the present? This global crisis caused by the Covid-19 virus has rearranged our lives drastically. Suddenly plans are suspended “until further notice,” and we find ourselves in “quarantine” and practicing “social distancing.” As the virus spreads, so does fear, panic, anxiety, anger and sadnesss. It is natural to feel these feelings, but we hope our vulnerability can help us turn to God more than ever. In this week before Holy Week, let us beg for the grace to turn to God to be in tune with God, to receive that Sensus Christi which Fr. Pedro Arrupe prayed for: “Above all, give me that sensus Christi – the sensing of Christ about which St Paul speaks: that I may feel with your feelings, with the sentiments of your heart, which basically are love for your Father and love for humanity…. Give me that grace, that sensus Christi, your very heartbeat, that I may live all my life, interiorly and exteriorly, proceeding and discerning with your spirit, exactly as you did during your mortal life.” May we come to know Jesus, who is our peace amidst pain and fear, and our resurrection and life amidst death. May we come to understand and accept the “heaven” that Jesus is offering us, here and now.

General, Updates and Activities

Feast of St. Joseph, in time of pandemic

March 19, 2020

Today, we enjoin ourselves to the One Church in the celebration of the Feast of St. Joseph. A beautiful reading in this morning’s prayer from 2nd book of Samuel says: Lord God, you are God and your words are truth; you have made this generous promise to your servant. Do then, bless the to house of your servant that it may be before you forever; for you, Lord God has promised, and by your blessing the house of your servant shall be blessed forever. Some of us are going through a very difficult time right now, some have lost their jobs, investments, loved ones or relationships. Others are battling with cancer, suffering from mental distress and anxiety, or awaiting operations, in need of healing in both mind and body. We want to hold onto Scripture and trust that God will bless the house of his servants. But how does Trust look like in this waiting time of distress?Perhaps as we contemplate the life of St. Joseph and the Holy Family especially in times of crisis, we can try to follow their example, beginning with simple steps: Breathing – listen to our breathing and recognise that God is still faithfully sustaining. Humming may help. Napping – just like child Jesus, closing our eyes can speak so much about our faith. Beg for this special grace. Call someone! Say hi, listen and let our hearts reconnect. “Here is my secret. It is very simple: It is only in the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.” – Little Prince Sing! – as a sign of gratitude. According to St Augustine: “To sing is to pray twice.” Stretch – let those muscles come alive for when they stretch, they release hormones (endorphins). Yup! that includes smiling! And so, as we beg for the intercession of St. Joseph to help us, our worldwide medical team and efforts, our communities, let us live as God’s people full of hope. Let us reach out to others creatively with care. The Cenacle Sisters continue to pray for you – but if you have ONE intercession that matters most to you, you may drop us a very short comment / PM us. Our prayers journey with you. We look forward to the day that our houses may receive you again.

Features, General, Soul Food

Stranger No More

March 13, 2020

A Reflection on the readings of the 3rd Sunday of Lent 2020 by Srs. Ria and Rose, nc. Ex 17:3-7 Rom 5:1-2, 5-8 Jn 4:5-42 Would you find it strange receiving a friend request from someone you do not know, without both of you having even a single mutual friend? Jesus and the Samaritan woman in today’s Gospel reading were not only strangers to each other, but their own ancestors hated each other and did not relate with each other for ages. While the woman waited until noon time before she could get water from the well so nobody would notice her, Jesus was there by the well, under the scorching heat of the noon sun, waiting for her. Jesus, the stranger, initiated a conversation with the woman by first expressing a basic need: water, for he was thirsty. Give me a drink [John 4:7], perhaps Jesus meant, We can relate to each other. Yes, we can be friends. The conversation deepened, the trust was built, and turned into an encounter of hearts – from a thirst for water to a deeper thirst for freedom, for love, for God. The encounter speaks of barriers being broken. Jesus destroyed the barriers that divided them – gender, role, status, race. Jesus came not only for the Jews but for all. The love that Jesus offers is an inclusive love. The salvation He offers knows no boundaries. This profound experience of the woman being fully known yet accepted and truly loved by the One she encountered restored her sense of dignity and gave her a new perspective. Jesus was a stranger no more. He told me everything I have ever done [John 4:29]. The Samaritan Woman went back to the town to tell everyone about Jesus and the encounter that freed her. Her heart was transformed by the encounter and made her transforming as well. She was never the same again. Mindful of what happened in her past, the Samaritan Woman was renewed by the acceptance and the love Jesus she experienced from Jesus. She was not condemned with what she did but loved with who she truly was in the eyes of God. Having met Jesus, she remembered that she was loved through and through; she realized her worth; she celebrated the life she was given; she gave witness to the person and the encounter that changed her and her life forever. We, too, have our past but God waits for us to reveal ourselves to Him and to share with Him our own stories. No matter where we are and what we have done, God will meet us where we are and invite us to return to the journey with Him and begin again. Let us earnestly seek Him, who seeks us first and perhaps, we can make this prayer of Anselm of Canterbury our own: Let me seek you in desiring you; let me desire you in seeking you. Let me find you in loving you; let me love you in finding you. As we continue our Lenten journey through Easter, let us beg for the grace of trust and openness to approach and to encounter God by our own well, where He has been waiting for us. Take courage in accepting God’s friend request and know that we have a mutual connection and that is love. Let us listen to this song and allow it to lead us to prayer: Till I Met You – Laura Story (Youtube Link). Till I Met You by Laura Story I’ve known pain and deep regretI’ve known the weight of my mistakes like the back of my handI’ve known deception and all its gamesI’ve known the way it feels to drown in my own shame But I never knew loveI never knew truthI never knew peace, the sweet release that brought me throughI never knew freedom, what grace could doThe broken chains, the hope that saves, a life made newTill I met You I’ve known rejection, I’ve bought the lieThat I could never overcome the hurt insideWith arms of mercyYou reached for meTore the veil away and gave me eyes to seeYou’re all I need And I never knew loveI never knew truthI never knew peace, the sweet release that brought me throughI never knew freedom, what grace could doThe broken chains, the hope that saves, a life made newTill I met You (I was empty, I was hopeless)Till I met You (I was stumbling in the darkness) I never knew loveI never knew truthI never knew peace, the sweet releaseYou’re the one Who brought me throughAnd I never knew freedom, what grace could doThe broken chains, the hope that saves, a life made newTill I met You (till I met You)Till I met You (till I met You)Till I met You

Features, General, News & Announcements, Updates and Activities

Fruits of Year 2019 in Cebu

February 12, 2020

Surrenderees’ Completion Ceremony The Tindog Recovery Support Group for drug surrenderees culminated with a completion ceremony held on December 17, 2019 at Our Lady of Assumption Parish in Tindog, Medellin, Cebu. The program started in 2017 in response to the request of the barangay chairman for some kind of intervention to deal with the “tokhang” initiative. This was a government mandate for drug users to surrender to authorities or get arrested. Since there were no readily available rehab facilities, the Cenacle and an experienced drug rehab volunteer designed a recovery support module intended to illustrate the nature, causes and consequences of drug use versus a healthy lifestyle without drugs. Experiential activities and personal testimonies of participants’ struggles with addiction, punctuate concepts and theories to provide a deeper awareness and understanding of the dynamics and challenges of recovery. Seventeen surrenderees accepted their certificate of completion accompanied by their family members. The ceremony was highlighted by the inspirational message of Dr. Russel Makiling, clinical psychologist, who emphasized that recovery is a precious gift from God and should be treasured with a lot of gratitude. The group also decided to elect a set of officers as they move to continue to a deeper level of formation in collaboration with Fr. Dan Mata, parish priest. After their completion the group will move into the re-entry phase in recovery where they are expected to reintegrate as productive members of the community and positive role models of a drug-free lifestyle. Straight from the Heart (Translated and edited by Joe L.THE HEART) The following are excerpts of the personal experiences of participants of the Tindog Recovery Support Group in Tindog, Medellin, Cebu. I started smoking marijuana in 1989 but did not realize it opened the door for me to get hooked deeper into drug use. I learned in the group that drug use is progressive and addicting. True enough, I lost interest in working and eventually lost my good job in a 5 star hotel due to my preoccupation with drugs. My temper became very explosive and I was in and out of jail so many times. My wife never gave up on me and kept praying for me to change. Thank God, I’m clean now and I have learned so much from my bad experience with drug use. – Randy Y. My drug history started with an innocent but immature curiosity to “just try it”. With no knowledge about triggers and the mood-altering effects of drugs , I got pulled into the madness of addiction. It got worse when I associated with a local drug lord.I forgot about my family and got stuck in getting high daily. Addiction does not discriminate.(ang pagka adik way gipili.) I had drug- using peers who were OFW’s, educators and even from the church. Drug use is indeed a useless and aimless journey. – Ronald I. Having friends who use drugs was the main reason I started using. Their influence was very strong and persuasive that even my parents’ advice had no effect. Now that I’m clean I’ve learned to stay away from drug-using friends to avoid negative peer-pressure. – Alvic B. At the age of 13, I got initiated into drug use mainly because of lack of parental guidance. Drug use was a convenient excuse for me to fit into the group in my desire to belong. It was also a distraction for me not to finish high school. When I got married, I quit using for a while but got pulled back into it because of the influence of my friends who also use. As a former addict, I can associate lying, manipulation and bad temper as common traits of drug users. – Noel J. I thank God that despite my involvement in illegal activities in the past, I’m still alive. I’ve hurt many people and probably destroyed many lives not only because of my drug use but also my drug-dealing activities. I look back with a lot of remorse and regrets at the many bad decisions I’ve made that caused so much problems and suffering to my family.Drug use is the worst experience in my life. – Jerome Y. I was a drug user for 19 years. I started using at age 16 and was good at lying and manipulation, especially with my parents.’Barkada’ was the primary motivator of my drug use. It is so hard to resist the peer pressure of a drug-using group that you associate with. It was not until a motor accident resulting from my drug use that I finally quit. My long stay in the hospital was a positive awakening and led me to clean up my life with my family’s support. – Elmer P. In Gratitude The Cenacle is grateful and deeply appreciates the generosity of its donors and volunteers for sharing their time and resources to keep the mission of the Cenacle vibrant and alive. We have received this year: 2 sacks of rice for distribution to indigent families during Christmas Jollibee and ice cream treat for 150 children in Tindog, Medellin, Cebu Equipment, food, and prizes for the Surrenderees Support Group volleyball tournament in November and athletic t-shirts Catered lunch for the Completion Ceremony catered lunch for the surrenderees and their family Donated cash for 2 ministries – the newly formed Youth Empowerment, Leadership group and the continuing formation of the Tindog Surrenderees Support Group in collaboration with Fr. Dan Mata, Parish priest, Tindog, Medellin, Cebu. To all who continue to support us in one way or another, THANK YOU and GOD BLESS! If you would like to participate in our mission for year 2020, and/or make a donation, please use this online form or email us at cenacle.philippines@gmail.com and the Sisters will connect with you directly. Ministry Updates On-going: Bible Groups — meets 4 times a week (Tues, Wed, Thurs, Fri) discovering one’s everyday reality in the context of the Word. Parenting and Family Development – alternating monthly sessions for fathers and mothers from Inayawan Dumpsite, Pardo, focusing on the roles of parents in creating the foundation of a healthy and God-centered family

Features, General, Soul Food, Vocation

Courage, Trust & Love of a Religious

February 11, 2020

Immersion Program @Cenacle, 2020 A testimony from a participant through whatsapp: Gd Morning Sr.!I really wish to visit Manila. My heart is drawn to go there again.. It is hard to share a little of my experience about the Manila Immersion Programme as it is a rich and eye-opening 7 days journey. However, if I am to summarize the grace God has granted me, that would be the courage to trust in the love of our good Lord, in the way He wants to love me, not in my preferred way, because He always know the best than I do. At first, I hesitated to join the programme because there is too many ‘risk’ I have to face, especially in taking leave from full time job, which is normally not so easy. But even before the programme, God has granted me the courage to trust in His providence. He only wants my YES and He takes care of the rest. Praise God for that! Throughout my journey in Manila, He showed me that this grace came alive in the Religious Sisters and Brothers whom we visited. They face different challenges in their respective missions and vocation journey, but they persevere on and amazingly, all of them look so happy. They love until it hurts, but they still carry on to love, until it hurts no more, but only love remains. Thank you Sisters and Brothers for letting me taste the fruits of your courage, trust and love. On top of all, I thank my Lord for this experience. It is too wonderful that I wish to return to Manila and I hope there will be another similar programme so others can receive the experience like I do. 🙂

General

Job opening: Program Coordinator (Full-time)

October 2, 2019

The Cenacle Sisters, Catholic Religious Congregation, are looking for a program coordinator (contract to permanent position) for our retreat house at Loyola Heights. This is a female working environment. Basic skills requirement: one who has some work experience in retreats, small-scale program facilitation/workshops or some hospitality experience. Candidates must be proficient in managing voice-calls, walk-ins, coordination of appointments (via email / phone / social media) and face-to-face customer service. We welcome ex-religious or ex-missionaries who desire to continue her mission to serve God and His people but in a relatively stable working environment. Note: we work on weekends with a stipulated weekday off. Job description: 1. Reception of retreatants and hospitality: – answering phone calls, email registrations, portery, house orientation, rooming 2. IT and admin duties: – correspondences, marketing via social media, retreat materials filing and organization 3. Coordination of Programs: – with other departments such as kitchen and house management – liaison with program facilitator and retreatants – publicity of programs 4. Basic accounting work: – collection of deposits and payment from retreatants – petty cash management – daily book keeping 5. Prayer ministry – printing and ordering of prayer cards (dependent on creative skillset of candidate). Learn more: http://www.cenaclephilsing.org/christmas_enrollment/ About us: The Cenacle Sisters is an international religious Congregation whose mission is to make Jesus known and loved through retreats, spiritual direction, and other spiritual ministries.It was founded in La Louvesc , France in 1826. Today we are in 11 countries and Manila retreat house has 18 en-suite rooms with a maximum capacity of 30 pax. Learn more about us at www.cenaclephilsing.org Send your full resumé to Sr. Kriz at krizlam.rc@gmail.com.

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Nonsense!

April 28, 2019

Homily by Fr. Peter Pojol, SJ at Cenacle Retreat House for Easter Vigil on April 20, 2019: Gospel: Lk 24:1-12 The women’s story seemed like nonsense, and the disciples did not believe them. What story? That the body of their dead Master was missing. That what they all witnessed was not yet the end. Could they dare think that against all logic something good can still come out of this? Nonsense! Do you know what else seems like nonsense? That God loves us. Look at our world. Look at our country. Look at your own lives. There are many reasons to despair. But on this night, especially on this night, we allow scripture and liturgy to help us recall the weightier, more consequential reasons why, instead of despair, of dismissing all this as nonsense, we must take after Peter, get up, run to the tomb, bend down, see the burial cloths alone, and go home amazed. We have heard the history of salvation summarized and proclaimed. We have used the powerful symbols of fire against darkness, of water against dryness and lifelessness, of white victory against black evil. I invite you in the coming days and weeks to return to the experience of the liturgies, the stories, of the Paschal Triduum to touch your hearts. For now and the rest of the homily, let me suggest that we listen to words of our Holy Father, the Vicar of Christ, Pope Francis, who writes from the heart, from God’s heart to us. Christ is alive and he wants you to be alive! (Christus Vivit) He is in you, he is with you and he never abandons you. However far you may wander, he is always there, the Risen One. He calls you and he waits for you to return to him and start over again. When you feel you are growing old out of sorrow, resentment or fear, doubt or failure, he will always be there to restore your strength and your hope. (2) This is how Pope Francis begins his Post-Synodal Apostolic Exhortation to Young People and the Entire People of God, entitled Christus Vivit (Christ Lives), which he published March 25 this year. In Chapter 4, Pope Francis lays out the core message that is most appropriate to our Vigil tonight. He does so in three points: God loves you, Christ saves you, and Christ is alive! Let us listen intently to his words, as if they were from God. The very first truth I would tell each of you is this: “God loves you”. It makes no difference whether you have already heard it or not. I want to remind you of it. God loves you. Never doubt this, whatever may happen to you in life. At every moment, you are infinitely loved. (112) God sees in us a beauty that no one else can see: As the Prophet Isaiah writes, “For you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you” (Is 43:4). (114) God does not keep track of your failings and he always helps you learn something even from your mistakes. Because he loves you. Try to keep still for a moment and let yourself feel his love. Try to silence all the noise within, and rest for a second in his loving embrace. (115) The second point: Christ saves you: It is precisely through our problems, frailties and flaws that he wants to write this love story. He embraced the prodigal son, he embraced Peter after his denials, and he always, always, always embraces us after every fall, helping us to rise and get back on our feet. Because the worst fall, and pay attention to this, the worst fall, the one that can ruin our lives, is when we stay down and do not allow ourselves to be helped up. (120) Beloved of the Lord, how valuable must you be if you were redeemed by the precious blood of Christ! Dear [young] people, “you are priceless! You are not up for sale! Please, do not let yourselves be bought. Do not let yourselves be seduced. Do not let yourselves be enslaved…” (122) Keep your eyes fixed on the outstretched arms of Christ crucified, let yourself be saved over and over again. And when you go to confess your sins, believe firmly in his mercy which frees you of your guilt. Contemplate his blood poured out with such great love, and let yourself be cleansed by it. In this way, you can be reborn ever anew. (123) Third point: Christ is alive! We need to keep reminding ourselves of this, because we can risk seeing Jesus Christ simply as a fine model from the distant past, as a memory, as someone who saved us two thousand years ago. But that would be of no use to us: it would leave us unchanged, it would not set us free. The one who fills us with his grace, the one who liberates us, transforms us, heals and consoles us is someone fully alive. He is the Christ, risen from the dead, filled with supernatural life and energy, and robed in boundless light. (124) Because he lives, there can be no doubt that goodness will have the upper hand in your life and that all our struggles will prove worthwhile. If this is the case, we can stop complaining and look to the future, for with him this is always possible. That is the certainty we have. (127) So, three points: God loves you, Christ saves you, and Christ is alive! If in your heart you can learn to appreciate the beauty of this message, if you are willing to encounter the Lord, if you are willing to let him love you and save you, if you can make friends with him and start to talk to him, the living Christ, about the realities of your life, then

General, Homilies, Soul Food

What Love Embraces

April 21, 2019

This essay first appeared on print on Easter 14 years ago in Sr. Cecille’s column “Solid Places” in the Sunday Inquirer Magazine. Beatriz is now a lovely, healthy 14 year-old. Joy and sorrow are sisters; they live in the same house. – Macrina Wiederkehr There is a pervasive attitude in our world today, which seeks to deny anything that would remind us of our mortality. We run away from wrinkles and thinning hair with the same fervor we display in trying to escape the more invisible diminishments in our lives. This is most evident in our postmodern pathological denial of the inevitability of suffering and the rightful place of sorrow in life. But if we are to know the depths of joy, if we must truly love (which is our most difficult and ultimate task, according to Rilke), then we must learn to accept the visitations of sorrow. This reminds me of a little story: It was supposed to be just another routine prenatal check-up. The young mother was on her ninth month, only a week till full term. It was her second child too, a much prayed for and long-awaited one. Her eldest daughter, a precocious 6-year-old, had been bugging her parents for a baby sister, and she was finally getting her wish. “Beatriz,” that was the name they had chosen. But the visit turned into confinement: apparently the mother’s body was all primed to deliver, but the baby was not quite ready to come out yet. They had to wait a few more days. The labor and delivery turned out to be a breeze, and she delivered a beautiful baby girl. It was all routine. There were disturbing signs, however. The other nursing mothers in the rooming ward had gushed at how quiet her daughter was, while theirs squalled lustily, but the mother was a little uneasy. Her tiny baby took only a little milk, and would just whimper softly. On the day they were supposed to come home, the pediatrician noticed that little Beatriz was very ruddy, which was disquieting since both her parents were fair-skinned. And so another consultant was called, and soon tests were made. At this point, things unraveled quickly for the bewildered and shocked parents: there was something terribly wrong with their newborn daughter, and the doctors suspected a blood disorder and a viral infection. She was also jaundiced. A blood culture was ordered, and since the hospital did not have the facilities for it, the father had to rush to another hospital to have it done. It was 2 a.m. by this time. Back in the hospital, Beatriz was having convulsions because of her high fever. Her mother remembers the scene well: “It is so terrible for a mother to see her own baby suffer like that, and to be helpless about it. All you could see were doctors and nurses surrounding her, just this moving, frantic wall of white coats and uniforms… l couldn’t see her anymore. It is the most awful feeling in the world, to know your child is in danger and not even SEE her… the memory burned that image forever in my brain.” A different sight greeted the father, when he returned to the hospital. He saw his little daughter, now in the neonatal intensive care unit, with assorted tubes attached to her tiny body, her eyes blindfolded to protect them from the photolight therapy. He took one look at his baby, and broke down and cried. The initial shock and horror at this turn of events gave way to a long, equally painful vigil. The blood culture took five days, and until then (the doctors said), they must wait and pray. Family and friends rushed to the hospital, but there was really little they could do or say. For what words can they speak to make any sense out of the suffering of an innocent baby? And what else can they do but relieve the parents of some of the practical details of a hospital confinement? The weight of a powerless, painful waiting for the fate of their child, and the struggle to find meaning out of the utter senselessness, was theirs alone. They clung to each other, and to their faith, She refused to leave her baby’s side, and when her blood pressure soared and she was banned from the sterile area, she waited outside the door everyday, praying. He sought refuge in the hospital chapel, sometimes falling asleep there, his 6’0″ frame squeezed in the narrow pew, one arm clutching the back of the pew as if it was a lifeline, like a man lost at sea. Only love can understand such words, and only faith can give the courage to see beyond love’s present suffering. When the blood results came back, it was discovered that Beatriz had polycythemia, which means her blood was “too much and too thick.” She needed partial exchange transfusion round the clock. She also had klebsella ozaenae, a viral infection that proved resistant to the antibiotics that she was being given, and so a new round of more powerful drugs was started. The days stretched with an awful, surreal, slow-mo quality: the father would visit her in the morning before he went to work, and her IV would be in her foot, and when he returned in the afternoon, it would be in another part of her body. Her veins were so tiny they kept collapsing. It broke his heart every time. Still, they kept their faith. After one of their baby’s convulsions, the mother wept as she told me what had happened. After a moment, she quietly. painfully said: “Do you know what her name ‘Beatriz’ means? It means ‘Bearer of joy’ I know that even now, she is living up to her name.” Only love can understand such words, and only faith can give the courage to see beyond love’s present suffering. After nearly two weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit, Beatriz was declared

General, Soul Food, Updates and Activities

Running on Empty: A Reflection on Ash Wednesday

March 6, 2019

Near the end of my more than three years of intensive psychotherapy, I had a very vivid dream. In that dream, I was in a strange house completely dark and foreboding. I was slowly moving from one room to another, lighting a candle in each room, haunted and terrified by an intense, suffocating loneliness. In therapy, the meaning of the dream gradually unfolded: I was afraid that no matter how much light I can muster, the house of my childhood will forever be empty. Henceforth, I must learn to live with the void. We fill up that void by busyness and noise, by a surfeit of passing pleasures, by a horror vacuii that cuts deep into our very being, such that we cannot name who we are apart from what we do or what we have. Such is our need, such is our fear. It was a painful lesson to learn. I had grown up precisely doing the opposite: filling the void with achievement, in the tragic childish belief that maybe if I do good, I will be loved. And yet in this I am not alone. We all have experienced loss. Heartbreak, suffering, pain, disappointment—even the natural wear and tear of our bodies as we age—all the promise of life inexorably slipping through our trembling fingers, the daily little dyings that foreshadow our last breath. And still we run away: filling that emptiness through various means: achievement, efficiency, popularity, an unending accumulation of lovers, friends, titles, money, fame, the latest gadgets or even facebook likes. We fill up that void by busyness and noise, by a surfeit of passing pleasures, by a horror vacuii that cuts deep into our very being, such that we cannot name who we are apart from what we do or what we have. Such is our need, such is our fear. Thus, in an acutely existential way, we are running on empty, most of our lives. We are just blind to it. Then Lent arrives, with its no nonsense, in-your-face beginning: Ash Wednesday. Nothing can so completely disarm us of our denial than the ashes on our foreheads, and the reminder that we are, and will sooner or later become, dust. And yet, in this rather brusque beginning, we are given unguent for our wounds, and a fallow time of forty days of deep, deep grace, in order to prepare us for the shining truth of Easter. Lent tells us that the only way out is through: through that emptiness, through that pain, through that deep gnawing ache that no person or object or experience can completely assuage. What is this balm of Lent that heals our emptiness? Lent begins with this resounding call from the prophet Joel: “Even now, says the Lord, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the Lord, your God.” Lent tells us that the only way out is through: through that emptiness, through that pain, through that deep gnawing ache that no person or object or experience can completely assuage. We must face the truth that we are radically incomplete this side of heaven, and we must therefore rend our hearts and mourn our losses. And yet that is not the whole truth, nor the more important one, in fact. Joel makes it very clear: we are to return to the Lord with all our hearts. Therein lies our balm, therein lies the core of our truth: only God can fill us, only God can bring love and light and joy into the most secret recesses of our hearts. Only God can give us the fullness of life that is our birthright. The journey of Lent marks this return: we sin and run away, God searches for us and brings us home. In this homecoming to God, which finds its summit in the Easter Triduum, we are shown the way. Jesus points out that we are to give alms, to pray and to fast. He tells us that we are to do all these “in secret,” because the Father “sees in secret.” What does this mean? And how can these three help to heal our emptiness? When we open our hearts to God in prayer, we are brought to the truth of our own poverty, of our radical need for God. In a counterintuitive move that could only come from God, almsgiving, praying and fasting heal our emptiness precisely by bringing us face-to-face with the depth of our insufficiency. We open our hands to help another in need, thereby reminding ourselves that we are never too poor to give, and that whatever we give away will never diminish us, because our worth is not found in what we own. When we open our hearts to God in prayer, we are brought to the truth of our own poverty, of our radical need for God. In prayer we receive that deeply felt knowing that, in the memorable words of the Psalmist, “the Lord is my Shepherd, there is nothing that I shall want (Ps 23).” When we fast from what we want, when we surrender our needs and desires, be they physical or otherwise, we learn the value of self-transcendence. Self-transcendence is nothing but saying “no” to something desirable and perhaps even good, for the sake of a greater “yes” which is grounded in God. In short, to fast is to stop running after that which satiates us, in order to listen to our deeper longing for God. Finally, Jesus tells us to give alms, to pray and to fast “in secret.” Clearly, there is a lesson in humility here. But perhaps what the Lord desires to deepen in us is also single-heartedness, that purity of intentions that the presence of an audience for all our good work can becloud. When we embrace these practices of self-emptying deprived of other people’s acclamations, we experience the depth of God’s

General, Soul Food, Updates and Activities

Love, Breathtakingly Ordinary

February 8, 2019

A reflection by Sr. Cecille Tuble, rc in Maryam Community for the month of February 2019: A million years ago, when I was growing up in the 80’s, my ideas of love revolved around Barbara Cartland-inspired damsels in distress being rescued by stern, inscrutably attractive older noblemen, or their more modern equivalents in Mills and Boon novels. Later there were movie versions too: Richard Gere overcoming his fear of heights to offer flowers and his undying love to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Love, according to these early guides, involved basically being a helpless girl without money or a future, swept off her feet and given, not only a lover/husband, but a whole new identity (of course connected to her man). Love was a once-in-a-lifetime romantic boon: there was only One. True. Love. Too bad if you can’t find yours, honey. Your life is a dismal empty solitude deserving the sincerest commiserations. In my twenties, I was too busy being a self-conscious intellectual feminist, and I thought, with arrogant ignorance, that the guys who pursued me were pitifully blinded by the illusions of romantic love. At that time, my early, largely-unconscious notions of love acquired a quasi-intellectual veneer, an odd and haphazard contradictory mix of adolescent romantic idealism and post-modern ideologies of the impermanence and futility of love. Needless to say, I was blind as a bat when it came to real, flesh-and-blood relationships. I couldn’t recognize love even if it sat on my nose and bit me. Then, in perhaps the most enduring mystery of my life, I fell in love. With God. I was radiant, daring, bursting with joy. I would do anything for God, follow Him anywhere. Of course, in the early years of my religious life, I didn’t actually say this simple truth when asked why I became a nun. I was embarrassed by its unabashed romanticism, its quiet passion simmering over the edges. So I tried to hedge it with more intellectual and spiritual terms. But my journal at that time bore witness, and from time to time whimpered at my denial, like an aggrieved puppy. God, on the other hand, being love and goodness Himself, patiently and tenderly stayed by my side as I explored this disconcertingly alien country called love. What made it so disconcerting is the fact that loving God pushed me outwards, towards the ones that God loves. And since God is incorrigibly indiscriminate in His loving, that meant He constantly called me to love those I found hard to love, those for whom I erected barriers of prejudice and fear. It was, indeed, a “school of love.” Then the darkness came. And again. And yet again. It bore the name Depression, and like a ravenous ogre, it devoured the light and everything that I had carefully constructed which I called “self” and “life.” There were intervening years of being okay, productive, busy with ministry. But each time that dark monster came I fell apart, and I would lose everything, including a healthy self-love. And yet, paradoxically, even then, love stayed. Simply because God stayed. In my journal entry of February 2013 during one of those times of darkness, I wrote: “My God, my love, 19 years na tayo. Thank you. You’re the only sturdy, stable, lasting thing in my life, and I will follow you anywhere. Please give me the grace to follow you even if it takes me through despair. I know you won’t abandon me. ‘The thief of happiness,’ — that is what depression is called. Remind me, Lord, that You are my deepest joy.” And God heard and stayed and led me through and out of that shadowed valley. And the God of love taught me this luminous lesson in the midst of that darkness: love stays. “It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things,” St. Paul thunderously proclaimed to the Corinthians (1 Cor 13: 7). Love will always stay. But I must not look for it in fuzzy romantic feelings, or in ecstatic prayer, or in idealized “soul-mates forever” friendships. Love, in all its wondrous variety, is breathtakingly ordinary. Love is the symphony of spontaneous laughter at community meals, and love is the tearful, solitary confrontation in prayer with one’s sinfulness. Love is my two sisters, harried and exhausted, yet with careful tenderness, cleaning and washing our sick father. Love is doing that day and night, for months until he died. Love is Sunday pasta dinner, a walk under the stars, and a blue dress sewn with pride and affection. Love sits beside you outside the psychiatrist’s clinic, and reminds you to get a haircut. Love is a pair of gnarled and trembling hands reaching out in need, love is a banana offered by younger hands to the old. Love is a puppy, soft and warm and affectionate in your arms. Love is Google Translate and cobbling together emails in Portuguese, love is a dog-eared French-English Dictionary. Love sits across you with glowing triumphant eyes, as your retreatant discovers, with tearful amazement and tremulous joy, that he is, against all odds, God’s beloved pala. Love, indeed, is breathtakingly, joyously ordinary. In this vision, there is no such thing as unrequited love. One day, while I was recovering from my latest foray into depression, my heart stretched out its arms wide and declared: “I love him!” At which my mind yelled, “WTF?!?!” And what followed was a long battle, in which my well-medicated mind, afraid of a relapse triggered by unrequited love, alternately argued and pleaded, cajoled and threatened, all to no avail. My heart dug its heels, and after five months, won the battle. Throughout the years that followed, my heart would announce: “oooh, I love her! (sister),” “Yeah, him too (friend),” “Awww, and you (dog)!” Finally, it dawned on my mind what the whole love-thing was, contrary to my early schemas (Mills and Boon died hard). That it was, after all, an overflow of God’s love, a love that