Homily

          There were several things I asked dad for as a child that he never bought me. He either said no, or not react, or said, “Sisirain mo lang ‘yan.” I wanted a toy robot for the longest time. “No.” There was a time I loved having smooth, shiny things in my pocket, like a stone, a small tile, a sigay from sungka. One time, I was drawn to my uncle’s mini-Zippo lighter, small & shiny. So, I asked dad to buy me one. I promised I’d never light it. I just wanted it. He glared his disbelief & his no. When cousins loaned us their Atari, kuya & I asked for one of our own. “Sisirain n’yo lang ‘yan.” There was a whole stretch in my life when I begrudged dad his many no’s to what I believed I needed from him, both visible & invisible, especially because I earned it by behaving well, doing well in school, bringing back medals. But without being aware of it, I actually developed a transactional notion of my relationship w/ dad: make dad more & more proud, he’d say less no’s & more yeses.           It’s not entirely our fault, sisters & brothers, that many of us have unwittingly transmuted this transactionality to our relationship w/ God. Doing that, if unintentionally, we’ve started believing that God is a meritocratic God, & the modus he operates on is meritocracy. Remember how we sometimes joke & say, “We’re doing this to earn pogi points in heaven”? Or say, “Swerte n’yo naman, may pari kayo sa pamilya. May tiket na kayo sa langit.” Or when we tell children, “’Wag malikot sa church. Papa Jesus will get enggri!” Or, “If you’re good boy/girl, happy si Papa God. If bad boy/girl, sad si Papa God.” The more rosaries, the more Mary will intercede for us. The longer we pray, the faster we get the delivery from heaven’s Lazada. It has even leaked into our works of mercy. “Help the poor & you will ‘go to heaven.’” A meritocratic God is one whose goodness towards us depends on our prior meritorious acts. Na para bang God’s default is neutral. We do a meritorious act first, & only then does our merit switch God on, whereupon he bestows grace, favor, blessings, accordingly. Even better: we put ourselves deliberately through hardship & difficulty, all the more we poise God towards signing our request!           Today, Jesus’ friends ask him to increase their faith. Luke doesn’t mention why. But in Matthew, this happens after they failed to exorcise a boy. So, they believe their failure was due to a shortfall of faith. These are very good people, by the way, very sincere & desirous to save a boy from a demon. Then again, doesn’t a boy’s healing depend more on God’s Providence rather than the amount of fire-power that the disciples believe they lack due to their faith deficit? Kasi gano’n ba ‘yon? Lakasan n’yo faith n’yo, lalakasan din ng Diyos kapangyarihan n’yo. There’s something a little off in there. Kaya siguro sinabi ni Hesus, “Huh? Even if your faith is infinitesimal, you could uproot this huge tree,” which I perceive is another way of saying kahit na kakaunti lang faith mo, that’s not going to stop God from doing even greater things than this for someone he loves who is sick.           Eh, bakit pa tayo magdadasal sa Diyos, kung alam na naman niya kung ibibigay niya sa atin o hindi ang hiling natin? Well, first of all, prayer is not just petition, right? It’s part of our relating to & with God, both as individuals & as a community, along with good works, acts of charity, compassion, etc. But secondly, we should not stop asking God for what we need just because, as we say, God already knows what we need before we ask. No.           When we keep praying for the grace we need (key phrase, “keep praying”), we realize more & more deeply how totally, desperately, endlessly dependent we are on God. And you know what, sisters & brothers, as many of you have already discovered by now, the more we realize in prayer how deeply, desperately, & endlessly dependent we are on God—it’s such a mysterious, miraculous thing—that we also increasingly sense how deeply, desperately, & endlessly kind-hearted & loving, generous & caring God has always been to us, all this time. Kaya tuloy, lumalalim ang ating pananampalataya. Allow me to repeat that. When we keep praying for the grace we need (key phrase, “keep praying”), God takes us to that place where we realize how totally, desperately, endlessly dependent we are on his goodness. But the longer we’re there, the clearer we see how loving & generous God has always been to us, anyway, more than we deserve or ask for. So, our faith deepens. We want more faith not so much to merit his reward. Rather, we want more faith because it makes us surrender to God, who has, nevertheless, been unfailing & relentless in goodness & providence, much more than we even deserve. That’s what’s behind Jesus’ parable in the 2nd part of today’s Gospel. We will always be only servants to the Master. We do what the Master obliges us to do. But it’s his will that will bring everything to a good end. Faith is not so much to earn or buy or finagle the Master’s prize. Faith means surrender to the Master’s goodness. So, dad never gave me a robot, a Zippo, an Atari, & then some, despite my most importunate begging. Only years after I left home did I progressively realize, hey, my dad started me off on Peanuts comics, then, Hardy Boys, then, a whole set of Collier’s Encyclopedia, w/ a 4-volume set of Medical Encyclopedia; then, signed me up for piano school even as it took away

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.