I sometimes believe in miracles.
I sometimes believe that the EDSA Transfiguration event was a miracle.
A people cowering in fear and indifference are galvanized into united action to throw off the yoke of their bondage. And their liberation is achieved with the loss of life nor the shedding of blood. The guns were silenced by flowers and war cries were muted by prayers. In the four days of the event, no one went hungry. People fed one another. They kept their vigil into the night. The nights we a bit chilly but the hearts of the people were warm from the love that was burning bright. It was a miracle! It had to be a miracle. For how can one explain all the fortuitous and favorable turn of events. It was bound to be a bloody and explosive situation.
Yet, here we are some three decades later. We are back to where we started. Was it really a miracle? We are again a divided people, wallowing in mess of our own making. We even seem to be in worse conditions now than we were then. Even the color yellow, which came to symbolize the EDSA event, is now an object of derision when we had already transformed it from a color of cowardice to the color of courage. No, EDSA was no miracle. It was just a mass event with no significance at all. The millions who came were there not our of commitment but out of curiosity. The Uziseros, in our local jargon.
I remember the first morning of EDSA. We attended an early mass said by some random priest at Gate 4 of Camp Aguinaldo. The Gospel for that Sunday was the story of the Transfiguration, which gave Peter, James and John a glimpse of the glory that was to come. But first, Christ had to go through his Passion and ignominious Crucifixion.
Maybe, EDSA was our Transfiguration event. It gave us a glimpse of what we are capable of. But it is not yet our redemption and liberation. We still have to be tried and tested, formed and molded through our own passion and death before we get to the Resurrection. The miracle of EDSA will be our rising up from the glimpse of what we can be to the reality of our greatness and blessedness. That is the true miracle.
No victory, no great achievement has ever been won with out the hardship and the struggles. If it were that easy, that is no miracle. It is not even a fairy tale. For it is in the straining that we grow and in the striving that we go.
Yes, I believe in miracles.
And yes, I believe that what happened in EDSA was a miracle.
This is not a political statement.
It is a confession of Faith.
In the midst of our feelings of helplessness and hopelessness,
there is Hope for our redemption and liberation.
We walk by Faith, not sight.
For the Love of Christ compels us.
“Lord, I do believe, help my unbelief!”