Homilies

Features, General, Homilies, Jubilee, Soul Food

Filomena

Homily delivered by Fr. Jett Villarin, SJ on the occasion of Sr Meny’s Golden Jubilee Celebration I do not know if Meny entered the Cenacle 50 years ago in mini skirt. Minis were in vogue back then. What I heard though was Sr Angie, her novice mistress, chiding her (gently I can imagine) if she could please lengthen her skirt a few more inches. Can you imagine Meny in a mini?  When I first met her, it was in the college chapel, early 80s. I do not remember what she was wearing (wala na yung mini skirt) but something about her exuded feminine elegance. Ay madre, sabi ko sa loob. Madre pala. As the colegiala Bubbles would realize some years later, may ganoon palang madre. Walang belo, eleganteng simple, magandang sapatos.  Meny is probably cringing inside now. Meny will be the first person here to insist that she does not want to be the center of attention today. Yes it is her golden jubilee but today also celebrates the queenship of our Lady. Si Maria, hindi sya ang reyna. Meny would rather recede so we can remember to honor Mary the unpretentious mother of our Lord, who wanted nothing more than to be God’s humble servant offering only her fiat of love.  And so honor Mary we shall. Today’s jubilee is also our thanksgiving to Mary mother of our Lord, queen of heaven and earth. We celebrate her queenship that is unlike any other. Quiet, hidden, maternal, vigilant, as it was in the upper room with the disciples, the first cenacle. We give thanks for such a queenship that is not over us but one marked with deep faith, unassuming service, loving devotion. Mary’s queenship inspires us to offer our own fiat of love. Like mother, like child. Like Mary, like sisters of the Cenacle. Like Mary, like Meny.  And like Meny, we will move off-center. After all, we are not the center of our lives. We will heed her when she tells us, please look, look instead at the One I love. Look to the One who has loved me all these years. Look at the One to whom I have promised all of my life. Turn your heart to the One who has my heart.  This is not to say we are not in Meny’s heart. All of us here today know that we are in hers as she is in ours. Meny will be the first to confess that one of her most cherished gifts in life is our friendship with her. The love of friends, she says, is love that is free. There is no coercion in the giving or receiving, no quid pro quo or entitled exchange when friends love.  Look to the One who has loved me all these years.  The love of Christ has meant all the world to Meny. Her name is Filomena, rooted perhaps in the Greek philoumene, “the loved one”, “beloved”. Beloved of us, beloved of Christ, Meny would dearly want us to believe that this too is our name. We are beloved of each other. We too are God’s beloved. And so, however long it might take us, we will let the love of Christ mean all the world to us.  Look at the One I love, the One to whom I have promised all of my life.  Surely, promising her love has not been without loss or sorrow. Some of us here have been privileged to have caught some of her tears. And yet here she stands, for all her worries and feelings of inadequacy. Despite her anxious and nerviosa self, still she risks her love in return for love. Today once more she professes: here but for the grace of God I am, for the One I love. I am here only because of Him who has my heart.  And so turn we shall to the One who has Meny’s heart. Then might we realize we are here only by the grace of God. Then might we confess how we lose our way, walking the darkness were it not for the light of our Lord. Gladly, generously by the grace of God we live. Faithfully, forever but for the grace of God we love.  In the Gospel today, we hear once more Mary’s fiat of love: “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.”  After all these years, what has God done to you, Meny? Ano ang ginawa ng Diyos sa iyo, Meny?  Knowing her, most probably she would say, of all the things he has done to me, the only thing that matters really is that he has loved me.  Thank you Meny. Gratefully but for the grace of God, we will turn to the One who has your heart.  Queenship of Mary Jose Ramon T VIllarin SJ Pentecost Church 22 Aug 2022   

General, Homilies, Jubilee, Soul Food

“Stay CALM… and know He is God!”

  What a perfect gospel story as we come together today. Even ever-composed Mary panics and gets anxious as Jesus is not found “with the group/caravan.” 3 days of search, must have been unnerving. But Jesus is calm, oblivious even, at His parents’ anxiety. “Why the worry, didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” And for today, as we gather, amidst so much uncertainty and doubt and fear around, maybe to tell us, “why the worry, I am here, before the Father – for you! If only… you learn to settle down and trust.” So, Sr Susay, as we celebrate this milestone with you, in this time so uncertain, as you move to an unfamiliar new assignment, I’d say, be like Jesus, our model and goal, stay CALM!!! Stay Consistent, Appreciative, Loving, Merciful. C-A-L-M. C – Stay Consistent As you look back to a vocation journey so mysterious, so difficult to explain yet so beautiful, a story with different twists and turns – we are here primarily because of God’s faithfulness beyond our own. And so, the only return we can offer is also to try to live a life of fidelity and consistency to and with Him. Far from perfect yet what we offer, we offer wholeheartedly. Holding close to heart always that which is beautiful, steady – God’s very presence Himself. We are able to live faithfully, consistently when we fix our gaze upon Him and Him alone. Then everything else becomes relative. A- Stay Appreciative In a world that has become more and more toxic, frustrating – there is always the temptation to give in to the negativity, suck life out of people, complain about almost everything. But not in our vocation. We are always invited to bear witness to the joy of faith, the joy of our believing. Our faith is a joyful faith, after all we are children of Easter morn. It is a joy that emanates from grateful hearts, appreciative hearts. And when we begin to see the world with eyes of gratitude, we begin to forge hearts of hope, hopeful hearts – because we can claim nothing as our own – our achievements, our gifts as much as our shadows, everything become but possibilities… because of love. And in gratitude, we go forth, trusting! L – Stay Loving Ster, please don’t lose that gentle heart of yours – always ready to respond, to care, to risk. Eternally grateful I am for your assistance and support those years at APS. How, in your simple ways, you have accompanied students struggling, lost, tired, how you accompanied us. I am sure you will be missed. (teka, alam na ba nila hehe). Yet, isn’t our vocation precisely rooted in love – being loved first of all by the great lover Himself who brought us all here. Undeserved but lovingly conceded to us, for us.. inviting us. And this is the loving we are called to, our keeping others from shattering. Our loving is hopefully to be that pillar of hope and faith for our hurting world today. To allow ourselves to be that presence that keeps others from crumbling, from feeling lost when all else have become so dark and cold and lonely. M – Be Merciful Mercy is the bedrock of our faith. It is what allows us a glimpse of the Divine. We are here today, Sister, witnessing the very mercy of God. Beyond our woundedness, our personal dramas, here we are… And so we are gently invited to allow our hearts that mercy too. That we mirror in our lives the compassion who is Jesus. Our commitments, our yeses, define the persons we become and are. Imperfect, struggling, yet confident in the love and mercy of this God of ours who invites us to His ministry of loving and keeping His people steady, hopeful and true. Sister, yes, be merciful to others but, knowing you, I pray more especially, be merciful, gentler and kinder to yourself. Sr Susay, as you renew your vows, know we are here with & for you. May our united yes to God’s invitation fuel us to a more inspired ministry & mission! And during those dark moments of disappointments & doubt, just remember, ‘ter – “Stay CALM… and know He is God!” In this mass, we pray. May our gathering this morning be a gathering of love, of hope. May we pray for the gift of fidelity in and for our mission that together, we be God’s very heart in today’s daunting times. Amen. Homily of Fr. IJ  Chan-Gonzaga, SJ  on the thanksgiving celebration of 25 years in Religious Life for Sr. Susay Valdez, RC at  Our Lady of Pentecost Parish | 25 June 2022

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Solidarity

Homily on Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ | 18 June 2022 by Fr Tony Moreno, SJ “You Filipinos eat five times a day” – a Jesuit tertian from overseas tells me. I was struck to hear this. But actually, at times, it is six times a day we eat if we include the midnight snacks. Eating is a human activity not only to satisfy one’s hunger. It is an expression of fellowship or solidarity. Eating alone is fine, now and then, but if one eats alone all the time, one begins to wonder what is happening. In the eyes of the self-righteous, one unacceptable deed of Jesus is eating with sinners and tax collectors. He breaks the barrier that separates the sinners from the rest of the community by having meals with the unclean and ostracized. Note also the parable of the loving father, after the father and son reconcile, there is a celebration. There is a grand party, much to the dismay of the elder brother. The meal becomes a gesture of solidarity. It is the same spirit behind the Gospel today. The feeding of the multitude is important for Jesus because it is a perfect ending after healing the sick. While his disciples were quick to dismiss them, Jesus finds a way to feed them and celebrate. There is fellowship and solidarity. In Jewish custom, the passover meal is a celebration of God’s liberating power. The night before exodus is a solemn one for God shows the saving power never before the Jewish people have experienced. God enters their world to accompany them. This is a great expression of solidarity. As we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ, we likewise call to mind the greatest act of solidarity for all time, God’s unbreakable love for all of us. Jesus uses the meal as an eternal symbol of God’s indwelling in our midst. It is no longer the lamb that we partake but Jesus himself. It is no longer simply a nation (such as the Jewish people) that God commits to love but the whole of humanity and creation including you and me. Jesus becomes food and drink for the nourishment of our life and mission. He commands us: “Do this in memory of me.” He asks us to bring to life the message of God’s unbreakable love. Forgetfulness of God’s enduring love is a great sin. It is an act of ingratitude. Our continuing fragmentation and division as a people is an indication that the wounds of hatred and sin are still there. We partake of Jesus’ body and blood, he lives on in us, but at times, our lives are so marked by hatred and intolerance. Sadly this is still happening in our society after the elections. Ironically, last April, after celebrating 500 years of Christianity in our country it was a moment of grace, but in no time, we showed to the whole world how much we hated those who did not share our political preference. I see good friends who are no longer on speaking terms. I see siblings and relatives who have become enemies. Pardon becomes difficult to ask and equally difficult to give. This runs counter to the spirit of our celebration today. Our celebration of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ such as this Eucharist we are celebrating cannot be simply a personal or private act without anything to do with building our community. It can bring us closer as a community. It can heal our brokenness as a people as we call to mind God’s unbreakable solidarity and love for us. May our celebration of the meal of Jesus be a summit and source of healing and reconciliation. It is the highest form of solidarity which can heal hatred and division.

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Pentecost Sunday

Homily on The Feast of Pentecost by Fr Arnel Aquino, SJ Cenacle Retreat House | 4 June 2022 I had a tooth extracted two days ago. I know. Sad. In the past, dentists were bunot-happy, remember? Konteng sakit, bunot. Konteng bulok, bunot. These days, extraction is the last resort of good dentists. They try to save a toot as much as they, even if it’s dead. They root canal it, fill it, cap it, anything to keep it just where it is. But alas, my dentist saw a fracture on my tooth, top to bottom. When a tooth fissures top to bottom, it cannot be saved. It has to come off. It’s hopeless. It’s irredeemable. Buti na lang, hindi bunot-happy ang Diyos natin, ‘no? Imagine if he were? When we’ve become such a pain to others, when we start infecting them, corrupting them, a bunot-happy God would extract us from the face of the earth. People are better off without us being such a burden. The space we leave behind? God could always fill that up with much better people, people who are more faithful, to him, kinder to others, steadfast in their love & service. But you & I, we’re often unfaithful, unkind, unloving, & uncharitable. So, thank God, he’s not bunot-happy. Kahit gaano tayo kasama, sa kaila-ilaliman ng ating pagktao, gusto pa rin nating mabuhay, lalo na para sa mga mahal natin sa buhay. And you know, God honors that. For good or for ill, he honors that. Secondly, such good news that no matter how fractured we are—top to bottom, sideways, inside out—to God, we’re still savable. To be fair, not all our cracks are our fault, no. The sins of family, community, the world have split & torn us apart. Nonetheless, we fissure also because of our own immoral, self-serving, & self-aggrandizing choices, both as individuals & as a community, as a country, even. Alam na alam na natin kung ano, sino, at saan anag makakasama sa atin, sige pa rin tayo nang sige. D’un pa rin tungo natin. Ang tigas ng ulo natin. ‘Di tayo matuto-tuto. But even then, we never forfeit our redeemability. Not to God, anyway. Sometimes, to be franck with you, I wish God didn’t give bad people such long lives, especially bad politicians. Sometimes, I wonder why politicians who are obviously bulok are still around & thriving. But just as divine benevolence is a mystery, human redeemability is also a mystery only God understands. If there’s one thing God is “incapable” of doing, maybe it’s to restrain himself from saving us. Kung sa bagay, ‘yun naman ang pangalan niya dito sa lupa, ‘di ba? Jesus. Yeshua. God saves. Many, many Catholics believe that when Jesus ascended to the Father, he has since been saving us by remote control…from heaven. The remot control is the Holy Spirit. I often ask the graduating class in LST: “What does the Holy Spirit look like? What does he do? How does he behave?” They stare at me like a I have three heads! But there’d always be one brave soul who’d answer: “Father, dove? Father, the Spirit hovers over us, enlightens us & empowers us?” So, the Holy Spirit is some bird-like avatar of God & has only two missions: light & power. Meralco? First of all, the Holy Spirit has a face, a human face. And this is the face of Jesus. The Holy Spirit in fact isJesus; not bird, not just “light” or “wind” or “energy.” Secondly, Holy Spirit does more than light & power. If the Holy Spirit is the Spirit of Father & Son, then, the Holy Spirit also saves! Whatever Jesus did in his earthly life over 2000 years ago, he still does today as the Holy Spirit. The Spirit heals our illness, fills our hunger, consoles our grief, reconciles us, unites our family & community—the very same way Jesus did back in his day. When Jesus “sends” us the Spirit, it is Jesus’ very Self who comes down to us, to be with us, yes, but also to dwell within us—regardless of our biyak, bitak, putok, baho, tigas ng ulo, katangahan, kasakiman. The Holy Spirit has a name after all. His name is Jesus. Yeshua. God saves. Hindi pa po tapos ang Diyos sa atin, sisters & brothers. We should never despair & think that we’re irredeemable, both as individuals & as a country. In God’s eyes, the world always needs saving because we always need saving, & very often from ourselves. Kung dumating man ang panahon when we finally make the right choices, whether in moral acts, correct behavior, or during elections—our right choices do not end the Spirit’s redemptive mission. We know ourselves only too well. Despite making right choices, we will eventually hurt each other. We will become cynical. We will resort to unkind behavior. And yes, we will try to extract people we reckon are irredeemable. So, all the more reason we need a constant Pentecost—a yearly Pentecost, a monthly Pentecost, a daily Pentecost: that divine outpouring of God’s very self on all of us, in spite of ourselves. And so, we prayer: Come, Holy Spirit. Fill the hearts of your faithful & kindle in us the fire of your love. Send forth your Spirit & we shall be created. And you shall renew the face of the earth.” Amen.

General, Homilies, Soul Food

The Upper Room

Homily on The Feast of Our Lady of the Cenacle | 4 June 2022 by Fr Oliver Dy, SJ In Jerusalem of the time of Jesus, it was typical for the house owners in the city to own a second floor or an upper room to be rented out to pilgrims. It is in such a room that the Last Supper was held and many other occasions, the disciples celebrated in the Upper Room for the feasts in Jerusalem, thus, also the name Cenacle or dining room. It’s in this Upper Room that the election to replace Judas, the betrayer, was held. And it was also in such a room where “All these [the apostles] were constantly devoting themselves to prayer, together with certain women, including Mary, the mother of Jesus, as well as his brothers.” The Upper Room. I would like to share my thoughts related to this Upper Room which for me symbolizes and mirrors the heart of Mary, Mary of the Cenacle. That there is a certain congruence of meaning of the Upper Room and the heart of Mary related to the three gifts of the Cenacle – Apostolic Service, Prayer and Community Life. First of all, the Upper Room is a holy space between heaven and earth. It is grounded on the earth and yet also elevated above it to indicate a sense of perspective and spiritual transcendence. The Upper Room is grounded on the cry of the people who cry and with the groan of creation, so the vibrations of the earth, as it were, is felt in this Upper Room, and yet this Upper Room is also the meeting place between heaven and earth or rather the meeting place or the point of transition between the old heaven and old earth and a new heaven and a new earth. The Upper Room’s sense of apostolic service is that place where the old is transformed into the new. The Upper Room symbolizes the hill country of Judea where Mary visited Elizabeth in the sense that it is elevated and here, Mary’s Magnificat was heard for the first time, the revolution of the heart and the reversal of order in the world. And this perspective and this vision of Mary continues here in the upper room in a new way, in the apostolic service. There’s both a typical distance from the earth and yet also a certain typical intimacy. One should not succumb to the subtle temptations of the world but to live amidst them with a sense of perspective of Mary. And so, it is in the sense of spiritual deviation with the world that we can transform into a new heaven and a new earth just like Mary did in her time. The second one is the Upper Room is the place of prayer. As it is located in this in-between space, the heaven and earth, it is the place of radical openness related to the virtue of hope and the act of waiting. The radical openness to God’s possibilities. Not so much to give in to the earthly projects in the act of presumptiveness or over-planning like the apostles did or thought when Jesus ascended, “Would He restore the kingdom of Israel?” It’s not that, rather, the radical openness to something totally new , totally unheard of. An openness by that which came forth from the heart of Mary from the womb, that Incarnate God himself, something unthought of before. This radical openness demands that we detach ourselves from our earthly project and have that clear space for prayer. The German word for this is “abgeschiedenheit” or “detachment” in English. The word is “gelassenheit” or “letting things be”. Not to give in, on the other hand, to utility and despair but to allow our pondering in prayer, the gradual pondering while waiting to allow the plan of God to unfold in His due time. So, we must maintain that radical openness in prayer like Mary in the Upper Room. Finally, Mary and Community life. In the year 2018, Pope Francis also declared Monday after Pentecost as the Feast of Mary as Mother of the Church, and it is also related to the Feast of the Cenacle in this Upper Room where Mary became part of the emergent Church and in fact, became also a witness to the maturation of the disciples, the apostles in the Spirit. They were with one accord, a single heart. And this means spiritual conversation and fruits of prayer. I can imagine Mary sharing the stories about her Son to encourage the apostoltes. I can hear Mary entering into dialogue with the apostles in the spirit of the Lord’s absence. I can see Mary co-discerning in their fellow pilgrims here on earth. Mary was at the side of the apostles. She was with the apostles. She was companion to the apostles. She was telling the apostles, “You are not alone, I am here, your mother.” She died with the apostles and lived with the apostles at their side. The word Paraclete incidentally is someone called to one’s side. I can imagine the Paraclete as somebody beside us. Somebody who strengthens us when we need strength. Someone who speaks for us like a lawyer. Paraclete symbolizes God by our side. In the same way, Mary in community life is a woman, a person by the side, beside the apostles, being with, being together with the apostles in the place of prayer, in the place of emerging apostolic service. In this Mass today, let us pray for the spiritual blessings related to this Upper Room, that symbolizes and reflects the very heart of Mary, Mary in the Cenacle, apostolic service, in prayer and community life.

General, Homilies, Soul Food

The Voice of Love

(Homily given by Fr. Arnel Aquino SJ on the Fourth Sunday of Easter, at the Cenacle Retreat House.) When I was in high school, I was sort of forced into playing marriage counselor to mom & dad. Kuya had gone to Manila for college. Jonathan was still in grade school. So, whenever mom & dad quarreled, priest wannabe took it upon himself to patch them up. I always felt anxious whenever I was around mom & dad. I could smell the sl whiff if something was wrong. So, I stayed in my room most of the time because ignorance was bliss. Whenever they came home, though, I became super sensitive to the sounds they’d make downstairs. Many times, I’d suddenly sit up because I thought I heard yelling again. But then, the next day, they were fine. I only thought I heard they yelled. But it must’ve been just a dog that barked, a chair that screeched against the floor, or a car that roared past the house. Until I left home for college, I continued hearing what I thought was yelling. Unfortunately, 2 out of 5 times, it was! People with schizophrenia have it much harder. They hear voices physically, like you hear my voice now. And the voices are unmistakable from a dog, chair, or car. The voices are often male, repetitive, commanding, & nasty. “You, fat slob; you’re ugly; you’re garbage; useless. Everyone’s talking about you; they don’t want you here; they hate you; they’re planning to get rid of you.” That’s why many schizophrenics also develop paranoia. “Just end it all; go jump off a ledge. Pop all your pills in one go.” That’s why schizophrenia can also drive a person to suicide. But what I think is most chilling is when the voice says: “I’ll always be here; you can never run away from me; you can try but I’ll always come after you.” That’s why schizophrenic patients are trained to say, “No. No. Don’t.” I figured, though, things that voices tell the schizophrenic, you & I also hear them once in a while in some measure, don’t you think? “You’re fat. You’re ugly. You’re a failure. They’re talking about you behind your back. They don’t like you. They want you out. You’re a bad person.” Thankfully, we know they’re merely negative thoughts, voiced in our own voice. We shake them off & not act on them. Problem is, sometimes, we only think we don’t act on our negative inner voices. When, in fact, we do. We make patol the voices (as the Assumptionista would say! Joke.) When we’re unaware that the voices are already taking charge, we transfigure into what’s called a reactive personality. Matalim na tayo magsalita, first response natin suspecha, reklamo, pintas. Madalas na tayong defensive, thinking that anyone who differs with us is out to prove us wrong. When we feel strongly against something or someone, kahit hindi fact-checked, we believe we’re absolutely right. (Kaya reactive personalities ang mga Marites!) In general, reactive people are difficult to live & work with because, well, they become the negative voice for people around them. See, that’s just the tragedy. Our negative voices say, “You’re not lovable. You’re no good.” Then, we’re roped in & prove them wrong. Then, we become reactive. Vicious cycle. That’s why we all desperately need a download. We need to download Jesus’ voice into this gadget, our heads. And update it. Constantly. One way we can do this by going back to the Gospels, reading them prayerfully & contemplatively, imagining ourselves as part of the story, observing Jesus, what he says, how he says them, & why. The Lord’s voice there is unmistakable. In fact, Jesus assumes not just any voice, but a very particular voice: the voice of a shepherd, a good shepherd who loves what he does & whom he’s doing it for. What a good shepherd says is completely opposite to what our negative voices would have us believe. Unlike a drill sergeant who rips into us to “make us stronger,” our shepherd strengthens us by pulling us together & giving us courage. Unlike a school marm who belts us so we learn our lesson, our shepherd teaches us the lesson we need to learn while he heals our pain; shearing us, not skinning us alive. Unlike a tiger parent who invalidates us to raise our esteem over the others, our shepherd prizes us by surrounding us with friends who love us. Finally, the shepherd doesn’t bark lofty standards of holiness for us to jump at to reach. Rather, he says, “Come, come, sheep. Let’s go to a better place. You & your friends. Come with me!” “I’ll always be here,” the shepherd’s voice says. “You can never run away from me. You can try. But I will always come after you.” To him we can say, “Yes. Yes. Do.”   image from kidshelpline.com.au

General, Homilies, Soul Food

Good Friday Homily | 15 April 2022

In the Third Week of the Spiritual Exercises, Ignatius proposes that we “ask for grief with Christ in grief, anguish with Christ in anguish, tears and interior pain…” During today’s contemplation on Christ’s Passion and Death, we perhaps face no great difficulty, as we have no shortage of pain and suffering brought by Covid-19, natural calamities and conflict. With Jesus shedding tears at the death of his friend Lazarus, we have lost to illness and infirmity many of our dearly beloved, some of who have passed on with only the company of PPE-covered medical professionals. With Jesus worried for the hungry crowds following him, we feel the pangs of need of those who have lost life and livelihood because of the pandemic, the Taal eruption and the litany of typhoons, Odette and Agaton being the latest. With Jesus welcoming and embracing the little ones, we are even pained by the wide-eyed incomprehension of faraway Ukrainian children and young girls, cramped into trains, sometimes with no family, relying on the mercy of strangers. Like Jesus carrying his Cross, we all carry the heavy burden of these overwhelming and different faces of pain, suffering and anguish that seem to be the many-headed beast of ancient stories. It does not leave us unscathed, and we have felt how it eats us up inside. I have seen marriages break up, the young pushed to self-harm, and many suffering from anxiety and depression. Thus we have become more attentive to what is clinically called “mental health.” Social psychologists describe how this pandemic of interior suffering isolates us more than the strictest lockdown, and how we find ourselves languishing, as in a prison cell without walls. Thus we understand why the Evangelist Matthew would not hesitate to put the Psalmist’s cry on the very lips of Jesus, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” But being with Jesus carrying his cross is not enough, as Jesus reminds the women of Jerusalem, “Weep not for me.” There is more to being one with Jesus in grief, anguish and pain. In his Passion and Death, Jesus is no mere victim of power-hungry Jewish elders in collusion with Roman colonizers. Much less is he the warrior-king out to win victory for his own glory. Jesus suffers on account of and for others. As we profess at every Sunday Eucharist, “for us and for our salvation, Jesus came down from heaven.” Ignatius’ contemplation even makes it so personal: “Jesus suffered for me.” I wonder how deeply we feel this. All this invites each of us to examine our own suffering. Is my suffering brought about by external circumstances, created by outside forces, catching me in the wrong place at an inopportune time? Aminin na nating minsa’y katangahan o, para hindi masakit, naivete? Is my pained resignation to extra judicial killings, creeping authoritarianism and the trampling of truth the disguised surrender to apathy and convenience? Is my suffering self-inflicted, caused by willful selfishness and intensified by self-pity? Are my broken relationships the bitter fruit of anger, envy and jealousy? All these forms of self-violence are nothing more than the absurd struggle of Sisyphus up the mountain or, worse, a mad dog running after its tail. But with Jesus in his Passover from suffering to new life, we break out of our prison when our own suffering is also on account of and for others. Like Jesus, an OFW mother sacrifices her isolation and safety in war-threatened places for her family and children. Like Jesus, countless volunteers spend themselves, time and resources, to safeguard the integrity of elections and to hold those in office accountable. Like Jesus, life-partners learn to live with their shadows and to forgive each other. Like Jesus, an urban poor family shares their ayuda with a neighbor in greater need. My dear friends in Christ, it is no coincidence that the Filipino word for moving on, for continuing is “magpatuloy.” This can only suggest that for us to move from suffering to new life, we must allow others to enter into our home. by Fr. Jose Mario C. Francisco, SJ Cenacle Retreat House | 15 April 2022

General, Homilies, Soul Food

THE BANALITY OF EVIL AND THE EXTRAORDINARINESS OF LOVE

Fr Paolo Consonni, MCCJ After more than a month into the war in Ukraine, we have already gotten used to images of houses destroyed, long lines of refugees, columns of smoke after bombardments, burned-out tanks and, sadly, hundreds of wounded people and dead bodies. We are so overexposed to this kind of news that we risk becoming immune to horror. For young people it is even worse – war is a virtual reality that can be treated like a videogame. The banality of evil causes us to become inured to it. Famous author Hannah Arendt, in a controversial book about the motivations of prominent Nazi leader Adolf Eichmann, responsible for the killing of millions of Jews during the Second World War, used the term “the banality of evil”. She realized that many of those who committed those crimes were neither perverted nor sadistic monsters, but “terrifyingly normal” people, acting out of a sense of duty, to advance their career, make money or even simply to blindly carry out orders as diligent bureaucrats. History shows that an accumulation of small choices made for banal motivations, without thoroughly thinking of their consequences, can provoke tragedies of unimaginable proportions. This Sunday, which marks the beginning of Holy Week, we will listen once again to the narration of the Lord’s Passion (Lk 22:14—23:56). Will we pay attention, or we will hear it as the same sad story of violence and death, similar to many others in the news? Will we view the evil in the events leading to Jesus’ death dispassionately because of their banality? There is nothing demonstrably alarming about Jesus’ Passion. It is a story of jealousy, greed, fear of someone upsetting the status quo, powerful people getting rid of a troublemaker through a corrupted justice system, zealous people trying to defend the purity of their traditions… we see these things happening every day all over the world. Besides, the narration of the Passion in each of the four Gospels is very sober. While Jesus’ sufferings are well described, there is no emphasis on the tortures, blood and all the gore that makes a horror movie or a videogame morbidly exciting. The point of the description of the Passion in the Gospels is not to make the death of Jesus, the Son of God, appear more painful than others (pain cannot be compared!), but to show its significance as the conclusion of Jesus’ extraordinary life. The life of Jesus was one of total self-giving, a gift given to the world by the Father who sent Him. A life in which He “went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him” (Acts 10:38). A life in which He carried upon His body all the darkness and tragedy of human experience, especially the ones coming from evil and death, only to return compassion, mercy and forgiveness. A life of unconditional love. We might become indifferent toward evil owing to its banality, but our hearts long to find something, or better still, someone, to save us from the cynical routine in which our lives become stuck. Something – or someone – that can embrace our struggles, our failures and our limitations. Something or someone to whom we can entrust our last breath, saying: “Into your hands I commend my spirit.” In other words, we long for the unconditional love Jesus’ revealed throughout His whole life and death. The early Christians understood that the narration of Christ’s Passion and death was important not only because it was expiation for our sins, but also because they understood that it was worth living and dying like Him. They also realized that only by inserting their own lives and deaths into His life and death, their existence might also become meaningful, worth living, worth the pain. Christ’s death saves us not only from the eschatological Hell, but also from a hellish, dull existence and relational life. Jesus’ disciples of every time and place, no matter whether married or not, all the young people who left everything to follow in the footsteps of St. Francis of Assisi, St. Ignatius of Loyola or Mother Teresa of Calcutta (among many), all made this choice in their ordinary lives with an extraordinary sense of gratitude for having found what matched their hearts’ desire to live a meaningful life. They answered the unconditional love they received from Christ with the gift of their lives. Only this love can overcome the inexorable passing of time, the cruelty of the world, the banality of evil, the weariness caused by sickness and the inevitability of the tomb. Jesus’ Passion and Death is not simply another story of pain and death. It is the only one which can bring light and meaning to all the others, including yours. Listen to it, once again, like the first Christians did, with an overwhelmed and grateful heart. (Original article appeared on https://www.oclarim.com.mo/en/2022/04/08/the-banality-of-evil-and-the-extraordinariness-of-love/)

Homilies, Soul Food

Third Sunday of Lent: “The God of Extravagant Tenderness”

Fr Greg Boyle, an American Jesuit, is the founding director of Homeboy Industries in LA, the world’s largest gang-intervention and rehab center for inmates and gangsters.  He started working with them in the mid-1980s.  His latest book titled, “The Whole Language: the Power of Extravagant Tenderness” has an insightful reflection about who God is.  Greg writes:  A homie says to me: “I see now that I never made it easy for my parents to love me, and yet, they never stopped loving me.”  The God who never stops.  So, God, in this same way, has a limited vocabulary.  God never knows what we’re talking about when we judge our own worthiness or let ourselves get fixated on God’s ‘deep disappointment.’  Often when we think God is silent, this Tender One is just nearly speechless. God is monosyllabic. Love. I’m afraid that’s it.  Never stopping.  Many a time in our lives we are so focused on what appears to be God’s “deep disappointment,” disappointment perhaps of a failed marriage, an unsuccessful career, a dysfunctional family.  Disappointment in bad decisions we made, stupidities we did, lack of compassion, failures, fears, inadequacies, unworthiness, sinfulness, name it.  One priest told me that he could never forgive himself for what he did in the past – again an indication of our perception that God is so deeply disappointed with us. Our readings today turn this “deep disappointment” narrative upside down.  The call of Moses is a great revelation of who God is, one who rescues God’s suffering people.  In the burning bush, God says “I am who am.”  This does not have a philosophical or existential meaning.  It means: “I am actively involved.  I am acting. I am liberating my people.”  Even if God’s people would turn away from him, worship other gods; yes, even they are so stubborn and sinful, God’s fidelity is constant, never quick to give up.  This is very different from the prevailing idea of God as somebody who rewards the good and punishes the evil. We hear a similar tone in the Gospel. The suffering of the Galileans was not because they were more sinful than others, nor was the death of 18 people when the tower at Siloam fell on them an indication that they were more guilty than others in Jerusalem. Rather we see an image of God who gives us time to yield and produce a good fruit.  Jesus is like the gardener in the parable, always ready to push the boundaries of possibilities rather than making judgements or assessing our worthiness.  Our God does not get tired of expanding his patience threshold: “Sir, leave it for this year also, and I shall cultivate the ground around it and fertilize it; it may bear fruit in the future.”  God does not easily give up on us!  We may easily give up on ourselves, but this is not our God.  The subtitle of Fr Greg Boyle’s book says it all: God has “the power of extravagant tenderness.”   In his TED talk in 2017, Pope Francis called for a “revolution of tenderness” amid so much violence and intolerance we find in our world. He says: “Tenderness is not weakness; it is fortitude.  It is the path of solidarity, the path of humility.  Please, allow me to say it loud and clear: The more powerful you are, the more your actions will have an impact on people, the more responsible you are to act humbly.  If you don’t your power will ruin you, and you will ruin the other.”  In this season of Lent, we can never go wrong if we stay and relish in God’s extravagant tenderness, if we simply allow God to be God who is all-loving, never judgmental, never impatient with us.  If we can’t change our lives, however much we try and try, let us turn to the God of mercy and allow the Lord’s power of tenderness to take possession of our lives. Tony Moreno SJ 19 March 2022

Homilies

Fourth Sunday of Lent: “The Elder Son”

Whenever we hear this parable of the prodigal son, we would often think about the sinful behavior of the younger son and how he had to go through an experience of degradation before he realized that his proper place was to be at his father’s home. We are often moved by the touching encounter between the father and the younger son, where the sinful son receives the unconditional love and mercy of his father. It seemed like a story with a happy ending. But it is not the end of the story. In fact the real focus of the story is the elder son. We must remember that Jesus was telling this story to the scribes and Pharisees who are self-righteous and lacked compassion for sinners. Jesus wanted the scribes and Pharisees to see themselves as the elder son, and Jesus wanted to touch their hearts and make them realize that they are being called to forgive those who have committed great sins. The whole story is not really about asking forgiveness but it is a story that challenges us to forgive like the Father. It is easier to imagine ourselves to be like the younger son. We all had our experiences of sinfulness and the need to repent before the Lord. But we know that the Father will forgive us because we believe in his love for us. It is harder to place ourselves in the place of the elder son. It is so hard to forgive others who have sinned especially if we have tried very hard to be good. Like the Pharisees, we sometimes think that we have to earn the love of God and so we believe that if you work hard at being good God will love you more. If you are careless with your life, then you should receive less love and maybe even be punished. Shouldn’t the younger son repay the property that he had wasted? What guarantee do we have that the younger son will not sin again? Isn’t this they way we sometimes judge others? Isn’t this the way we often withhold our forgiveness from those who are sinful in our eyes. Like the elder son, we sometimes we think it is unfair for the Father to give the same love to a good person and a bad person. The parable does not tell us what the elder son did after his father asked him to accept his younger brother. Did the elder son join the family to welcome his brother? Did he stay with his anger and cut himself off from both his brother and his father? The ending is ours to make. Jesus did not put an easy ending to the parable because trying to forgive is not easy. It is something we ask the Lord to help us with. Just as Jesus appealed to the Pharisees and scribes to put away their self-righteousness, we are also being asked by the Lord, especially during this Lenten season, to allow compassion and reconciliation overcome any anger or judgment of others. Whenever we find ourselves in the place of the elder son, and are called to forgive a frequent or serious sinner, let us not forget that we too were treated with mercy and compassion by God. Just as God has loved us not according to what we deserve but according to what we need, let us also love others not according to what their sins deserve but according to what their souls need. (Homily of Fr. Ritchie Genilo, SJ on the Fourth Sunday of Lent, 27 March 2022)

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