Possessed by Possessions

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I read the news today, oh boy.
The rich just got richer;
and the poor are getting poorer.

Today, the top 23 billionaires in the world control as much as wealth the bottom fifty percent of the world. Last year, these billionaires saw their wealth increase by almost a trillion dollars; while the bottom 50% saw their collective income decrease by 13%.

There is something about material possessions that warp that human soul and distorts men’s values and principles. Shouldn’t there be limit to what a person can own? A million? A billion? A trillion? While many struggle to get by on merely two dollars a day; a handful of people have amassed wealth they will never be able to spend in their own lifetime. Nay, not even in a thousand lifetimes.

When will it ever be enough? Or, is it ever enough?

 

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Let Freedom and Justice Ring

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Today is the feast of Martin Luther King. His message and work for freedom, justice and equality remain relevant to this day.

It is unthinkable how any man could think of himself as the owner of another person, even in a benign and benevolent way. Yet even today, there are still people, and in some instances whole societies, who would consider children and women as chattel to be owned and possessed like they were just any material thing or objects?

Love, compassion, justice and forgiveness are the obvious answers. But they are so obvious, right under our noses, that we don’t see them. Oh when will we ever learn? Oh when will we ever learn?

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Listen to the Children

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Today is the Feast of the Hold Child (Santo Niño) in the Philippines. And in many places all around the country, there will be mardi-gras-like festivals celebrating the Infant Jesus during the month of January — Ati-atihan in Aklan, Sinulog in Cebu, Dinagyang in Iloilo.

We adults always pretend to teach children. And yet often, children have more to teach us. Here is something I wrote a few years back:

To be a child is to wake up in the morning, unencumbered by the past and with a future full of limitless possibilities.

To be a child is to see the world with eyes of wonder, wishing for explanations or reasons yet open to mystery and to the unseen and the non-rational.

To be a child is to see kindness in every human encounter and not to look for a catch or hidden agenda behind such kindness.

To be a child is to sing in great abandon about every joy and not to dwell on tears and disappointments.

To be a child is to see universe in a grain of sand and to feel all of humanity in a mother’s tight and warm embrace.

To be a child is to fully relish the present moment and, at the end of the day, not to wish for tomorrow to come sooner.

To be a child is not to care and yet live every moment swathed in love.

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The Seeds of the Ordinary

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History is often written about and around great personages and great events.
It would be interesting to re-read history from the perspective
of the ‘small people’ in a story or event:
– a great battle from the POV of a foot soldier,
– a great romance from the POV of a maid of the lady love,
– a great tragedy from the POV of a messenger.
Their story will probably resonate better with my own ‘ordinariness’.
In the Gospels, it is the ordinary folks like fishermen, the sick,
and strangely enough the evil one,
who often recognized Jesus as the Christ first,
even earlier or faster than other good men.
For out of the seeds of the ordinary grow out that which is extraordinary.

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Transit Umbra,Lux Permanet.

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It is so easy to fall into set ways and be comfortable with the routine
and then complain about how boring life can be.
Change is a challenge to move ahead and become better.
Water that is not stirred becomes stale and turbid.
Muscles that are not used atrophy and soon die.
And whatever we do not use, we must lose.

We often wish for a life of ease and comfort,
free of pain and tears and sufferings.
But we know it is through our struggling
that we get to enjoy the exhilarating heights
or delight in the coolness of the valley.
We must suffer some falls and bruises
for us to appreciate life’s graces.

And so it is in our lives.
We hate the darkness so we go seeking for the light.
We know we were not made to hate; so we seek to love.
We are afraid of death because we are meant to live forever.

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Grand-Parenting

T.S. Eliot said it again for me so eloquently – “to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.”

I have been on the parenting journey before. And I enjoyed every moment of it. Grand-parenting is arriving where we started and knowing the place for the first time.

Grand-parenting is a gift, a present – just as the life we have all received is. To see new life from the new lives we have brought into the world is an indescribable joy. We know we have been here before and yet every moment seems like a novel experience we have never experienced before. We know the joy over the birth of a baby. And yet, this baby we are holding now seems to be the only baby in the world – most beautiful, one of a kind, unrepeatable. It is strange how so common an experience can seem to us to be the only one of its kind.

Grand-parenting  is a Faith experience, a journey of discovery. More than the earthly joys that grand-parenting has brought me, it has taught me lessons of the spirit I only faintly understood until now.

Jonathan is the first born of the fruits of my seeds. He is now entering his teens. He has the typical mood swings of teenagers. But deeper in him, I can see another Jonathan struggling to break free from his child-ish cocoon. He has talents seeking to unfold. He has a dream aching to be expressed. And he is very antsy to get on that journey all of us must take. Yet, in the midst of all the moods and anxiety, the excitement and sense of adventure; there is that sweet loving child who is so generous with his hugs and affections and always willing and sensitive to reach out to people in need. the very same sweet child that captivated me the first time I held him in my arms.

Jane could have been just an ordinary girl but everything she does I see with love, wonder and amazement. Her early artistic attempts could have been just the meaningless doodling of an infant but they are an affirmation for me that there is a loving God who makes all that Jane does so wonderful and life-giving. Even as a child, Jane was attuned to sounds, sights, and smells that only she could sense. Memories of the heaven she just left behind, I used to believe. If I am deaf and blind to the sounds, sights, and smells that God sends me, How could I miss them when I see my Jane.

Maia was barely two months old when she embarked early on her journey with her parents to a foreign land. She started out delicate and seemingly fragile. But deep inside her is an indomitable spirit that told me, life will not be denied. Behind her angelic smile and calm disposition lies a fighter who will never give up. And we wake up every morning with her picture waiting for us to greet her ‘Good morning’. I count the days we can hold her again in my arms.

Mikhaela is on her way. There is a lot of excitement over her coming. And I wait her coming with great hope and joy, like the Advent waiting we just went through this past Christmas. I am already imagining how she will look like, what she will be doing and saying, her voice, her mannerisms, and even her cry. But I am sure that the real Mikhaela will be more, much, much more than I can imagine. It teaches me to never second guess what God has in store for me. “No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him.”

I love being a Grand-Parent.

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It’s Just Another Day

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This week, after the great feast of Christmas, is the start of ordinary times. It is back to the regular grind, the humdrum of daily living. And today’s Gospel tells us how an ordinary life in the life of Jesus might have been:

Rising very early before dawn, 
he left and went off to a deserted place, where he prayed.
Simon and those who were with him pursued him
and on finding him said, “Everyone is looking for you.”
He told them, “Let us go on to the nearby villages
that I may preach there also.
For this purpose have I come.”
So he went into their synagogues,
preaching and driving out demons 

throughout the whole of Galilee.

And we usually take the ordinary for granted. Take nature. She also teaches us spiritual truths if we just are open to her wisdom. Nature is never in a hurry and yet everything gets done in due time, season after season. We abuse Nature and the consequences can be very harsh, like the adverse effects that we are experiencing because of climate change.

And we continue taking ordinary things for granted until we lose them. Now, just think: how can I enjoy all the beautiful scenery of Nature and her ever-changing colors if I were to lose my sight? Or, how can I feel and enjoy the ocean breeze on my face if I were to lose my sense of touch? How can I hear the sound of the pounding surf if I lost my hearing? How can I smell the saltiness of the sea of the sweet smell of the trees and wild flowers if I lost my sense of smell?

Then, I also realize I can see more colors that more varied and vibrant when I close my eyes; I hear more sounds and more melodious music when I shut my ears; I can smell heaven when I stop smelling earthly scents and I can feel eternity when I close my senses. I guess this is what prayer is all about: going beyond the immediacy of the senses yet staying in the here and now turns our experience of the ordinary into an encounter with what truly is.

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Oh My, How All Things Are Tied Together!

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As I start my day in silence and prayer, I am moved by the Psalm of the day:

O LORD, our Lord,
how awesome is your name through all the earth!
I will sing of your majesty above the heavens
with the mouths of babes and infants.
When I see your heavens, the work of your fingers,
the moon and stars that you set in place—
What is man that you are mindful of him,
and a son of man that you care for him?
Yet you have made him little less than a god,
crowned him with glory and honor.
You have given him rule over the works of your hands,
put all things at his feet:
All sheep and oxen, even the beasts of the field,
The birds of the air, the fish of the sea,
and whatever swims the paths of the seas.
O LORD, our Lord,
how awesome is your name through all the earth!
~ Psalm 8

We have an awesome God. He created and prepared for us a home that is full of endless wonders. Every time, Anabelle and I go for a walk in nature or go on a hike, we encounter this awesome God: through the fields, by the sea, and the mountains, enjoying the soothing breezes, breathing in the crisp mountain air, accompanies by the wild denizens of the forests and fields, the birds of the air and the fish in the sea. And at the end of the day, to rest as we watch the sun set and when darkness comes to gaze at the moon and the stars. All the handiwork of this awesome God.

Then, He made me – a little less than a god, crowned me with glory and honor and declares to the rest of creation, “This is my beloved son.” Indeed, what am I that he should be mindful of me? Or, who am I that he should care for me? Or, even . . .  love me?

When walked this beautiful Earth, Jesus showed us a glimpse of this totally awesome God through his deeds and his words.

All were amazed and asked one another,
“What is this? A new teaching with authority.
He commands even the unclean spirits and they obey him.”
His fame spread everywhere throughout the whole region of Galilee.

 

 

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A Christ Believer

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I seek to be good because of the challenge of Christ for me to be perfect,
seeking this goodness by doing good for others.
He does not call those who are perfect.
But those he calls he brigs to perfection and the fullness of life.
When he came and proclaimed the good news; he sought out sinners,
tax collectors (who even then were already known to be utterly corrupt),
loose women, and simple folks.

He had a special place in his heart for the outcasts and the abandoned like the poor, children, widows, the sick. He sought out and called the last, the lost and the least.
And he transformed their lives by bringing them wholeness and sharing with them his perfection. This is the perennial attraction of Christ for me.

A Christian’s radical humanism is born out of an unshakable trust in God, which does not rely on its own works but on God’s grace.To be a Christian is to realize a radical humanism which can cope with all that is positive as well as with all that is negative.

“By following Jesus Christ, 
people in the world today
can live, act, suffer and die
in a truly human way,
in happiness and unhappiness, 
in life and death,
sustained by God
and helpful to fellow men and women.”
~ Hans Kung

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I’m Coming Home

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Nothing evokes as much peace and joy for me as the thought of coming home.
Home is a place where I can be myself,
where I can put down my masks
and scratch where it itches.
Home is where I have a place of my own at the table
and then to share food and stories with people who know my heart.
Home is where and when I am with people dear to me,
who know my pains and joys without me even having to say a word.
Home is where and when I can rest from the constant battles
I have to wage in being and becoming a better person without having to explain.
Home is where I retreat to lick my wounds and heal my spirit
until I am whole again.
Home is where my heart sings
and my mind recites poetry.
Home is where I hear and also say these words constantly;
“This is my Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”
I am coming home.
Soon.

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