Mar 26., 2017 / General, Homilies, Soul Food
God’s freebies
Homily of Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ, on the Fourth Sunday of Lent 2017 at the Cenacle Retreat House, Quezon City.
Fr. Joe Roche was our professor in the theology of Grace, oh, 500 years ago. Most of you are familiar with the teaching method back in the day. Straight lecture, exposition of concepts & terms, arguments, counter-arguments. Very informative, if anything, but pretty much cut & dried. But there was this one rare morning when Fr. Joe stopped lecturing & broke into a story.
“There were two orphan girls—a teen-ager & her 7-year-old sister. They begged on the street all day, everyday. And on their way home, they’d often stop by a small store that sold little knick-knacks. Big sister always had her eye on a small bracelet of fancy stones. After a bit, they’d go on home. Then came the birthday of big sister, during which they still begged out on the street. On their way home, they stopped by the store again & just when big sister was about to admire the bracelet, it was gone. She was crestfallen & went home sad. When they got home, little sister fished something out of her pocket, something wrapped with scrap paper, & gave it to her big sister—happy birthday. When big sister opened it, it was the bracelet. Little sister thought big sister would be happy. Instead, she said, ‘How did you get this? You stole this. You stole this from that store! Don’t you remember what mother told us before she died? That we should never steal? You little thief!” And she dragged her crying little sister to the store to return the bracelet. The little one couldn’t get a word in edgewise no matter how she tried. In the store, big sister put the bracelet on the counter & started apologizing profusely to the clerk. The clerk shook his head as she tried to explain & apologize, explain & apologize; whereupon, little sister just ran out of the store, sat on the sidewalk & buried her face in her little hands. After big sister stopped talking, the clerk looked at her in the eye & sternly said, ‘Your little sister did not steal this bracelet, young lady. She bought it & gave everything she had.’” Apparently, little sister had been saving a little bit every day for many days, so she could buy her sister a birthday present.
Whereas everybody noticed that the man blind from birth could now see, nobody appreciated it. Instead, every person he turned to said he should not be seeing. “You were blind from birth, how could you see now?” “You were healed on the Sabbath, when healing is forbidden.” “Whoever healed you is a sinful man, as sinful as you are.” Even the poor guy’s parents wanted nothing to do with him because they were afraid of “the law.”
So, there was something beautiful that happened that day: a poor beggar, blind from birth, received the gift he must’ve dreamed of all his life. But what he got was a scolding all around, because he wasn’t supposed to receive that gift. It was all wrong. He should’ve stayed blind because (a) he didn’t deserve the gift of sight for being a sinner, & (b) the day he received it outlawed it. Magagalit ang Diyos, they all seemed to say. Magagalit ang Diyos. “But I could see,” you could almost hear the man whimper. “Hindi. Magagalit ang Diyos.”
Spit & dust…that was all it took to heal the man blind from birth; two virtually worthless stuff, spit & dust; free, no charge—but resulting into a dream come true. Libre, walang bayad! But as it happens, dear sisters & brothers, we are often scared of divine gratuity. When God gives us a freebie, especially an extravagant freebie, & turns “spit & dust” into, say, a “favorite bracelet” or the gift of light & a dream come true—we go grateful but we get nervous. Underneath our gratitude quivers an anxiety: “Hmm, ano kaya ang hihingin ng Diyos bilang kapalit? What’s the catch?” Because we figure, it must written somewhere that when God waxes magnanimous, we better be ready for what he’s going to ask for in return. If you think about it, this no-such-thing-as-free-lunch, this is really what rules human freebies, isn’t it? It forms part of how relate with each other. What has happened, though, is we’ve transmuted it to God. So just as we become anxious when someone is terribly magnanimous to us, so, too, do we second-guess what God’s generosity might be all about, because sooner or later, he’d be sending a bill. And if we don’t pay the bill, magagalit ang Diyos. Magagalit ang Diyos. 
Divine gratuity terrifies us, doesn’t it? Even if we see more than enough signs that God gives us pretty much everything that we need—our life’s “favorite bracelets”, so to speak, our dreams-come-true, healing from our suffering, safety for our family, unrelenting forgiveness—even when barely deserve half of it all—something about divine gratuity terrifies us. “But I can see,” the man blind from birth tells us. “From worthless spit & dust, the Lord has made shining light for me!” But something in our hearts somehow says, “No. Magagalit ang Diyos. No.”
For what is left of Lent, dear sisters & brothers, let us pray to God to really open our eyes so we could really appreciate divine gratuity, God’s extravagant freebies. Let us pray in such a way that we really get God’s message that might go something like this: “Anak, did it ever occur to you that I give you what you need—& much, much more besides—because I love you & that’s it? Because I love you. I love all of you. Libre. Walang bayad.”
God really gives us his everything, sisters & brothers. Jesus, our Lord, was everything to God. So God gave us no less than his everything.
