homily – Page 3

Homilies, Soul Food, Updates and Activities

Parable of the talents

December 11, 2017

Homily from Fr. Arnel Aquino, S.J. on November 19, 2017, 33rd Sunday of Ordinary Time, at the Cenacle Retreat House. Just a few days ago, I had a conversation with a young guidance counselor. He works in an exclusive school for kids from wealthy families. These families own whole industries that earn millions by the day. The young man is assigned to eight- and nine-year-old boys in the school. That’s hardly the demographic from which kids would be marched off to the guidance counselor, right? I mean, what were you and I doing when we were eight or nine? Mostly playing, right? What were we thinking about? I don’t know, our next weekend at the beach? Playing with the neighbor’s kids? Sesame Street? Well, this young guidance counselor will have us know that times have changed. In his first year of work in this school, he has already had to confront the reality of suicide…by eight- and nine- year-olds; suicide ideations and suicide attempts. Just several days ago, he had to do an intervention with a third-grade kid who attempted to take his own life by jumping off a building. And that’s only one grade level. The young man’s fellow counselors in the other levels, they’ve had to deal with the same problem: very rich, very innocent children, angelic!—suffering deep angst that you and I didn’t feel until we were teenagers agonizing over our pimples. Hearing it anew from the young man still shocked me. But part of me shouldn’t really have been surprised. I had heard confessions in the same school twice. At both times, nine out of 10 boys either yearned for their parent’s love—especially their fathers’—or hated their parents because they were never there for them. It was a story I’ve heard many times over. The rich parents give them everything they ask for, everything; the usual remedy of the super-rich that alleviates parental guilt over absenteeism. “Since we can’t be there for our child very much, oh, we’ll buy him everything he asks for; we can afford it. We hope that his comfortable life will show him that mommy and daddy care for him very much. What else could he ask for? He has everything!” So, every day, many boys from expensive schools get chauffeured home to their high-rise apartments where yaya waits for them, and they play with well-groomed dogs. Oh, I’m not derogating yayas and dogs. I bet many of these kids receive more love from them than from the people who should be loving them the most. Otherwise, why would many such kids even think of jumping off a building at age eight or nine? Take good care of what the master has entrusted to you. That’s the most fundamental lesson Jesus wants us to remember from the parable of the talents. We often understand talents as smarts, know-how, aptitudes, skills; and they may very well be these, and they all come from God, sure. We often forget, though, that the talents entrusted to us by our Master must be directed towards people, the gift of people; people who rely on our smarts, know-how, skills; people who look up to us as their “true north,” who depend on us for their making or their breaking. Talents are God-given and God-driven. They are therefore always “intentional,” meaning, they are intended for an “other.” They are bestowed in order to eventually benefit another. The final and most important beneficiary of our giftedness are people; no, not the multi-million-peso business, not the self-indulgent hobbies, not the hipster-cyclist social image. No matter how much money we make, when people who need most our presence go orphaned, or worse, go self-destructive, then whatever nest we feather, whatever image we buff, they’re as worthless as money buried in a hole on the ground, dead as our hearts. In a poor people’s hospital in Davao stands a tiny public school run by sisters. A few years ago, a sister showed me around. The students were poor children suffering from very serious motor nerve diseases. So, they were all lying down on benches. Oh, nothing was wrong with their thinking. They could think as clearly as you and I. But their bodies were all bent out of shape, their hands were hooked inwards, their knees were folded up to their chests. Sister walked me over to an 11-year-old boy. Like his classmates, he was all curled up in a ball. “He’s an artist, Father. He paints and draws with his mouth. He’s really good.” Well, maybe Sister was just being kind, I thought. Then, Sister started helping herself with a worn-out school-bag sitting beside the bench, and took out an art notebook. She opened to page one. “Look, Father, his drawings.” And I was shocked. It was a drawing of a woman’s face, rendered in colored pencil. With its lines & shading, its colors & depth of detail, you’d never believe the portrait was by a boy who had absolutely no use for his arms and hands. “All this with his mouth, sister?” Sister nodded. By the time I got to page six, I think my jaw was already around where my ankles were! I couldn’t even draw a lousy apple to save my life. But this kid—he penciled faces, water-colored seascapes, crayoned trees—all with his mouth, while lying down on his side. “I want to do some more, Father,” he said in Cebuano, “so I could sell them and help mama and my sister.” His sister was also there, by the way, two benches down, equally disabled by motor nerve disease. Their Mama was there every day. She’d sell a few bunches of kangkong, just enough to buy kanin and ulam for the three of them. “Even if I’m this way, Father,” the boy said, “I know God gave me this talent so I could help mama sell more kangkong and help my sister finish school.” How could someone who, in the eyes of the world, was entrusted with so little still give so much? But see, that intentionality of giftedness, that

Homilies, Soul Food

Power

October 22, 2017

Homily by Fr. Joel Liwanag, S.J. on October 22, 2017, 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time, at the Cenacle Retreat House. Have you ever been asked a trick question? Have you ever been pushed into a difficult situation wherein, as they say, you were damned if you do, damned if you don’t? How did you manage to escape from such trap? In today’s Gospel, Jesus is pushed into such a situation. Those who wished to bring him down, after giving their empty praises, asked him a seemingly simple question: “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?” To be able to understand why it was a trick question, it is important to keep in mind the socio-political context of Israel then. At that time, the Israelites were under Roman occupation. If Jesus answered “yes” to the question, saying that it was lawful to pay taxes to the Roman Emperor, he could have easily been accused of disloyalty, of being a traitor to his own people. He would have then earned the ire of his fellow Israelites, who considered the Roman rule as a form of oppression. If, however, he answered “no” to the question, saying that it was unlawful to pay taxes to Caesar, he could have been accused of sedition, of disobedience to the Roman law. He could have then been reported to the Roman authorities. Being in this difficult situation, Jesus uses his wit and turns the table around. He tells his detractors to take out a coin, and asks them whose image they see in the coin. When he is told that it is Caesar’s, he tells them, “Then give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” In Jesus’ cryptic answer he does not only escape from the trap that has been set for him. Through it we also get an insight into his perspective about human power. First, when he says, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” Jesus seems to give his implicit recognition of the legitimacy of human power. He acknowledges the reality that since we human beings live in community, we are subject to a social order, and part of this social order is having leaders who exercise their authority for the sake of the group. When used correctly, such power can bring forth much good. In today’s first reading, we meet one such leader who brought forth much good to Israel. His name is Cyrus, king of Persia. Under King Cyrus, we see the end of a painful era in Israel’s history, the Babylonian exile. Under his reign, Israel is allowed to go back to their homeland and rebuild their temple. Indeed, he is one good example of a leader who exercised his authority for the good of the community. I invite you now to remember some of the exemplary leaders we’ve had, in our world, in our country, in our community. How did they exercise their power? What good did they do for their constituents? How did they help those who were subject to their authority? Bringing this closer to our own personal experience, perhaps we can also ask ourselves the same questions. We who are leaders in our own little way, in our workplaces, in institutions, in organizations, and even in our own families, how do we exercise our authority? How do we exercise our leadership? Are we able to bring forth good for those who depend on our leadership? Secondly, apart from the recognition of human power, another lesson we learn from today’s Gospel has to do with the limits of this power. After saying “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar,” Jesus adds, “and give to God what belongs to God.” In a way, Jesus is making an important reminder. Yes, human leaders exercise authority, but in their exercise of such authority, they must not forget that they are not God. The problem with some leaders that we have is that they think they are God. They see themselves as the ultimate power, no longer dependent on the power of God. This is a dangerous frame of mind. This way of thinking is what makes cruel dictators, heartless monarchs, abusive leaders. When Jesus says “give to God what is God,” it is His way of saying, “recognize God as the supreme authority,” for indeed, there is nothing that does not belong to God. Everything that we have, everything that we possess, everything that we enjoy – all these belong to God. Yes, even the power exercised by human leaders, belongs to God. Such authority is only entrusted to those who have been called to hold it. This is the message we hear in today’s first reading. Going back to King Cyrus, we know that He is not a believer. And yet, listen to what the Lord God tells him: “I have called you by your name, giving you a title, though you knew me not. I am the Lord and there is no other, there is no God besides me. It is I who arm you, though you know me not….” Indeed, we should not let human power get into our heads. We have to constantly remind ourselves that such power is only entrusted to us. It does not belong to us. Ultimately, it belongs to the Lord, He who has supreme authority over all. To end, perhaps we can reflect on the mistakes we’ve made in exercising power. Have there been moments when, in our exercise of leadership, we acted as if we were God, forgetting that we are not? In what ways have we abused the power that God has entrusted to us? In what ways have we misused the authority that has been given to us? Jesus tells us, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar. Give to God what belongs to God.” Yes, we have to recognize the authority of human power, but we must not forget that such power is always in the

Homilies, Soul Food

Trustworthy in small matters

September 18, 2016

Homily by Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ, for the Twenty-fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, at the Cenacle Retreat House, Quezon City. The Gospel is from Luke 16:1-13. Let me read to you a text I received recently from a dear friend. He says, “Arnel, can you remember in your prayers my son who is frustrated in his job? Very talented boy, as you know, but gets frustrated easily. He already quit two jobs, same reason. Please pray for him.” Then his last line, “Time is wasted on the young.” I never thought I’d actually see the day when I’d be saying the same words I heard from many priests at mass when I was growing up. “Ang mga kabataan ngayon,” they often said “gusto nila, lahat instant.” Remember those times, remember those words? They said something like, “young people today expect giant returns for dwarfish efforts,” or “they want immediate reward before even putting in the hard work.” I even remember the metaphors they used, which sound funny & outdated now, but still true: “instant coffee, instant mami, instant calculator….” Like my friend today, the old priests back in the day already saw this crisis, that young people hit rock-bottom too soon, before putting in the effort to run so that they could fly. Well, those young people whom the old priests were referring to, they grew up…& became us! And many of us, grown-up’s swore we’d never raise children that way; that instead we would impress upon our children that the really crucial & lasting things in life grow from long, painstaking, even boring work, rather than from instant coffee, instant mami, instant calculator. We swore we’d show them the truth behind our salawikain: na ‘pag may tiyaga, may nilaga; ‘pag may isinuksok, may madudukot; na habang maikli ang kumot, matutong mamaluktot, kung humaba na’t lumapad, saka mag-unat-unat.” We resolved that we’d show our children how to endure the long wait before self-gratification. But then just a few weeks ago at a restaurant, a family came in with two very restless, very rowdy kids. When they got all settled, mom & dad promptly gave each kid…an iPad. And what a transfiguration! Instant discipline! “The person trustworthy in small matters is also trustworthy in great ones, & the person dishonest in small matters is also dishonest in great ones.” How divine these words, coming from the Lord himself, yet how very practical. They’re not just about money even if the parable bears such a theme. To be honest & trustworthy in small matters means that we accept, & reckon with, & ground ourselves in something that has remained unchanged since the beginning of time, & this is the reality that the most essential things in life, the “big” things, are forged solid by small, laborious, & persistent blazing, brazing, & molding. Marami na pong nagbago sa buhay at sa mundo, maliban sa katotohanang ito, & this old truth cuts across issues. It doesn’t matter if we’re talking about financial security, or getting a degree, or being married, or raising children. Honesty & trustworthiness in the small things is what gives our feet their strength to run so that the wings God puts on our backs can help us fly. The steward who reaches the essential things in life despite many imperfections, is a person who works very hard while trusting very deeply in God. “No servant can serve two masters;” another set of words very divine yet very practical. We barely notice how instant self-gratification has become our master, hasn’t it? These past years, the older we grow, the more impatient we’ve become, the more easily aggravated, the less tolerant. And I speak for myself, as well; I really do. How we behave in traffic is one of the worst examples of this, as you know. How we bribe government agencies to expedite our documents, there’s another. And please forgive me for saying so, how we’ve lately cleansed our country of criminality—all of this shows how we’ve grown weary & quit doing it the Lord’s way, which is really the long, arduous, well-thought-out, & honest way…the way of the cross, as it’s sometimes called. The first-reading surprisingly reflects our state of affairs. “You who trample on the needy & destroy the poor of the land,” Amos says. “You who diminish the measure of flour in order to add to the value of money…you who fix the scales for cheating.” What is all that of that about? It is all about self-indulgent Israel that loves the quick fix. It is instant self-gratification right there, writ large, writ old. And the usual casualties of it all, then & now? The poor. Since we, humanity, often ride rough over each other to get to our big dreams the soonest possible time regardless of whom we hurt, why does God continue taking care of us—the small, self-absorbed, quarreling stewards that we are? Maybe the 2nd reading has the answer? Because we are beloved? Because we are “good and pleasing to God our savior who wills everyone to be saved and to come to knowledge of the truth”? With God’s unconditional positive regard for us, doesn’t it make us wonder sometimes, who serves whom?