Memorial of the Immaculate Heart of Mary

Homily delivered by Fr. James Santos, SJ
13 June 2026; Memorial of the Immaculate Heart of Mary
Cenacle Retreat House

My dear Sisters,

As I prayed over today’s Gospel, I found myself returning to a very personal moment in my life during my novitiate, particularly during my 30-day Spiritual Exercises retreat.

It was already the eighth day of silence, prayer, and contemplation. Instead of experiencing peace, I found myself in struggle. I was wrestling with my sense of unworthiness before God. Pakiramdam ko, hindi ako makausad…I felt like I could not move forward. In the silence of those days, I was confronted by my own weaknesses, my wounds, my grief, my compulsions, and sins. Slowly, a painful question began to form in my heart: whether I was truly called to this life, if i’m ready and whether I could really live as a Jesuit given my brokenness.

There was even a moment when I feared that I would not be able to finish the retreat. Because during break day, i found out that two of my co-novices left so all the more did I feel sad.

Then came the ninth day.

After breakfast, I returned to my place of prayer still carrying that heaviness. I had just begun to settle into silence when I heard music coming from the nearby dining hall. It was the song “Huwag Kang Mangamba” a Jesuit song that my parents deeply loved.
Huwag kang mangamba, ‘di ka nag-iisa
Sasamahan kita, saan man magpunta
Ika’y mahalaga sa ‘King mga mata
Minamahal kita, minamahal kita…..
Tinawag kita sa ‘yong pangalan
Ikaw ay Akin magpakailanman
Ako ang Panginoon mo at Diyos
Tagapagligtas mo at Tagatubos….
Sa tubig kita’y sasagipin (dito nagbreak down na ko…)
Sa apoy ililigtas man din
Ako ang Panginoon mo at Diyos
Tagapagligtas mo at Tagatubos

And in that moment, something unexpected happened within me. It was only the beginning of the song, just the first few notes, but I suddenly found myself in tears. Hindi pa nga umaabot sa chorus, humahagulgol na ako. I could not explain it then, but in that sacred silence, I experienced something very real and very personal: a deep assurance that the Lord was speaking to me.

Not in words, but in love.

It was as if the Lord was saying quietly in my heart, “James, mahal kita e” And I found myself weeping, not out of fear anymore, but because I was being loved in a way I did not deserve and could not fully comprehend. The experience was overwhelming, not because it was dramatic, but because it was so personal and so tender. It felt as if my heart was being filled beyond its capacity…so full of love that it could no longer contain it. Yung tipong sinisiksik…pinupuno ung puso mo ng pagmamahal pero hindi mo makaya kasi hindi ako sanay tumanggap ng ganung klaseng pagmamahal…..pero sinasabi Nya tanggapin mo lang….

In that moment, I realized that the Lord was not demanding anything from me. He was simply loving me..freely, completely, without condition. Walang hinihinging kapalit. And strangely, it became very difficult to resist that love.

Earlier in the retreat, I also remember a contemplation on sin where I saw only the wounded feet of Jesus on the cross. Everything else was dark, but I felt drawn to those feet. I found myself simply staying there in prayer, gently touching the wounds of Christ, contemplating His tired and bruised humanity.

At that time, I did not understand what that meant. But after that experience during the song, it became clear to me that Jesus was revealing something very simple and very profound: that His love reaches even into my wounds, and that nothing in my brokenness can separate me from Him. My wounds and His wounds were not barriers, but places of encounter.

Looking back, I realized that what I experienced in those moments was not just consolation. It was a deep and abiding assurance that I am loved by God, not because I am worthy, but because He is love. And in that love, I found a freedom that I could not easily refuse.

When I shared this with my novice master, I remember saying to him, “Father, noong mismong panahong iyon, parang ang hirap-hirap hindian ng pagmamahal ng Diyos.” At that moment, I realized that God was not forcing me to follow Him. He was simply loving me into freedom.

That experience did not end in the novitiate. It has remained with me and continues to shape my understanding of vocation, community, and prayer. It also deepened my devotion to Mary and the Eucharist, because I began to understand more deeply how faith is lived not in clarity, but in trust; not in control, but in surrender.

I feel this is what Mary teaches. Ito ang itinuro sa akin ni Maria: ang manatili kahit hindi nauunawaan, at magtiwala kahit hindi malinaw ang daan.

In this light, today’s Gospel becomes very close to the heart.

We hear of Mary and Joseph searching for Jesus for three days. We see their anxiety, their confusion, and their love. When they finally find Him in the temple, Mary says, “Anak, why have you done this to us? Your father and I have been looking for you with great anxiety.”

These are the words of a mother who loves deeply and who does not fully understand what is happening. This is not a distant or idealized image of Mary, but a very human one. She searches, she worries, she feels the pain of absence.

Ito ang puso ni Maria: pusong marunong magmahal kaya marunong ding maghanap, mag-alala, at masaktan.

And yet, what makes Mary’s heart the Immaculate Heart is not that she understands everything. It is that she remains faithful even in the midst of mystery. The Gospel tells us that Mary kept all these things in her heart. She holds it, reflects on it, and entrusts it to God.

This same Mary is the one we meet in the Cenacle. The same woman who once searched anxiously for her Son is now waiting quietly with the disciples for the coming of the Holy Spirit. In both moments, her posture is the same: she remains, she trusts, and she surrenders.

In the Cenacle, there is still silence, still waiting, still not fully knowing what will come next. And yet Mary remains at the center of that waiting with a heart anchored in trust.

This is also the invitation for all of us today. There are moments in our lives when we, too, experience searching. Moments when God feels hidden. Moments when prayer feels like silence rather than clarity. And in those moments, we may also ask, “Lord, nasaan Ka?”

But the Gospel gently reminds us that Jesus was never truly lost. He was in the Father’s house. And Mary was being invited, once again, to trust that God is always at work, even when He is not immediately seen.

As we celebrate the Immaculate Heart of Mary, we ask for this grace: that we may have hearts like hers. Hearts that remain faithful in searching. Hearts that trust in silence. Hearts that continue to believe that God is present even when He feels hidden.

May we learn to say, like Mary, “Hindi ko man nauunawaan, pero nagtitiwala ako.” And may we discover, in time, that even in our searching, we were never outside the embrace of God’s love.

Guide Questions for Reflection:

When in my life have I experienced “searching for God” in moments of silence, confusion, or uncertainty?
How do I usually respond when I do not understand what God is doing in my life?
What does it mean for me personally to “keep things in my heart” like Mary?
Where am I being invited today to trust God more deeply, even without clarity or answers?
How have I experienced God’s love in unexpected or deeply personal moments, like Mary discovering Jesus in the temple?

Closing Prayer

Lord Jesus,
You who were once “lost and found” in the temple,
teach us to trust You even when we do not understand Your ways.

Through the Immaculate Heart of Mary,
form in us hearts that remain faithful in silence,
hearts that search without losing hope,
and hearts that continue to believe in Your love even in uncertainty.

Like Mary, may we learn to keep all things in our hearts,
and to trust that You are always at work,
even when You seem hidden.

We ask this through Christ our Lord. Amen.