WHO WOULDN'T? - 2nd Sunday of Lent

“Honey, there’s no easy answer that will take your pain away. Believe me, if I had one, I’d use it now. I have no magic wand to wave over you and make it all better. Life takes a bit of time and a lot of relationship.”

“Mackenzie, the truth shall set you free and the truth has a name; he’s over in the woodshop right now covered in sawdust…”

-Papa “Elousia” to Mackenzie, The Shack


What transpired for only a few fleeting minutes that glorious afternoon seemed like years for the awestruck disciples. In fact, it not only felt like it would go on forever, it evoked sentiments of wanting to linger there on that blessed spot for all eternity. “Master, how good it is for us to be here for we can make three tents” says the dumbfounded Peter.

And who wouldn’t pray the same? Who wouldn’t beg the Lord a little more time when everything seems fine and time is running short? Who wouldn’t wish things would remain the same forever when one is able to fulfill his Sunday duties, and consistently assuage the pangs of his self-indulgence-induced guilt by always having a few loose change handy for the occasional beggar and every god-forsaken-ragamuffin who virtually thrives at the doorsteps of every church because business is good and health even better? Who wouldn’t cheerfully albeit mindlessly declare to Jesus: “how good it is for us to be here?”

But the Master’s way is the way of the cross. His wounds are our healing, his passion, our safekeeping. His glory lies not in the feverish swaying of palm branches and the roaring hosannas. His kingdom was not inaugurated on that hill where bread and fish have flowed aplenty. His dominion will not forever consist in an endless stroll atop bodies of water, there where clueless people imagine they would be engaged by him in an eternal game of storm-bashing and wave-halting sprees. It would definitely not be a one, big Shot Put game of mountain hurling and geographical rearranging. His kingdom is not of this world. His glory is His cross.

And so it shall be for his disciples. And so it shall also be for each one of us. He came not to wave the magic wand over us in order to banish our every ailment. He came to journey with us. He came to suffer with us, in us, for us. He came that we may have a friend that would be willing to go through it all with us, so that we may not lose our way and make it safely back home.

QUIT THE PIG-SLOP, GO FOR THE ROASTED CALF! (1st Sunday of Lent)

OUR FATHER…

How wonderfully clear, how new this age-old attribute God himself wants us to use for him sounds, how refreshing, how transforming!

He doesn’t want to be regarded by us as some Automated Teller Machine of heaven, ready to churn out goodies at every push of the button. He is not the God who watches over us from some distant abode way up in the clouds. He is Our Father! And being our father, he is far greater than all the marvelous and insanely generous philanthropists combined, far more generous than the most generous of benefactors, far more loving than the most passionate of lovers, far more powerful an ally than the most powerful of this earth’s potentates.

We need not bribe nor cajole him into giving in to our petty concerns and wants. We don’t have to act like some hungry dogs at the table of the master. We need not be jealous of one another, always competing for the Lord’s attention as if it means anything sensible to him nor to any of us at all. In Jesus Christ, God revealed to us the secret of heaven. And this is none other than the realization that we are God’s beloved children. Heaven is simply living in the fatherly embrace of God. Heaven is being into a loving relationship with the father. Heaven is knowing, experiencing and enjoying that we are truly God’s children in every sense of the word.

To have God as our father is to not be afraid to be thoroughly known by him. To have God as our father means that we are always being taken care of; that we need not be terrified to make those clumsy, little baby steps in life knowing full well that for our every tiny stride loom those enormous ones by this loving father who goes ahead of us every step of the way.

To have God as our father is to be not too consumed with not knowing where to find food for the next day. To have him as our father is to not be afraid to stand up after each fall. It means not being hesitant in freely loving others as a sister or brother. To have him as our father is to always be comforted with the assurance that we are immensely loved no matter the gravity of our greatest sins nor the depth of our stupidity and selfish pursuits. To have him as our father is to be not afraid to say sorry for our sins knowing that he has already forgiven us a hundred times over before we even make the first move.

TO HAVE GOD AS OUR FATHER IS TO HEAR HIS INVITATION FOR US TO STOP HELPING OURSELVES FROM THE PIG-SLOP AND START RUNNING TOWARDS HIS WELL-LIT HOME; THERE WHERE A ROASTED, FATTENED CALF AND A GOLDEN RING AWAIT US.

To have God as our father is to be in need of nothing else…He being completely, totally ours, and we being completely, totally his as well.This is the reality we ought to be thankful for. This is the resounding victory that Christ Our Lord has thrice declared over Satan in the wilderness. This is Jesus' gift for us at the beginning of our Lenten journey!

Fat Tuesday Thoughts: Mardi Gras 1

This day is Mardi Gras, Tuesday before Ash Wednesday. In many places, especially in Rio de Janeiro in Brazil and New Orleans in USA, there will again be lavish parades and sensuous display of sweat-soaked bodies and gyrating dancers on huge, colorful and expensive floats greeting carousing revelers that line up the streets. There would again be partying and overflow of drinks and feastings, and indulgences of every kind and persuasion. The whole affair could appear at first as just some kind of harmless fun. Down with the prudes organizers and fans would even say.

But what does Mardi Gras really mean for us? Why of all the other days in the year would we choose the Tuesday before Ash Wednesday to hold such revelry when we practically have the whole year for our feasts and banquets?

To merely think of Mardi Gras this way is to completely miss the point. To regard Mardi Gras in this manner is to further impoverish our minds and hearts.

Mardi Gras or Fat Tuesday for us is not simply a day of unabated intoxications. It something else; it is something more. It is an opportunity for us to sit down for a while in silence and see just how much we have fattened ourselves with all manners of selfish pursuits, and emaciate ourselves in the process by being deprived of the real source of our nourishment. Fat Tuesday is an indictment at how we have fattened ourselves to be sacrificed on the altars of our idols and false gods, only to realize later the absurdity and tragedy of it all. Fat Tuesday is an expose of the sham comforts and fleeting satisfaction that the world dangles to our senses. Fat Tuesday is about spiritual junk food overload alert. Fat Tuesday is a wakeup call.

Louder than the groans of the glutton’s stomach, shriller than the shrieks of the most seasoned epicurean party animal, Fat Tuesday’s reminder rouses us from our apathy and laziness today, and invites, nay, challenges us to read the label on the packages of our daily fare and see if we truly are getting the real deal at spiritually healthy living.

I WEAR ASHES ON MY FOREHEAD TODAY

I wear ashes on my forehead today because I confess, with much sorrow and remorse, how I defiled and defaced the beauty of the Lord’s image in me through my stubbornness and sin. I wear them on my forehead as a BADGE OF SHAME.

I wear ashes on my forehead today because I acknowledge that my life is just as worthless and meaningless as a heap of ash when divorced from the saving and nurturing love of God. I came from ashes, I will return to ashes. I am only because God breathed on a pile of dirt and called me out of it. I came to be only because of God’s immeasurable love for me. He is everything. I am nothing. I wear them on my forehead as a SIGN OF HUMILITY.

I wear ashes on my forehead today because I am reminding myself of the sheer ugliness and filth of sin and evil. I wear them on me to remind myself and others of the inescapability of the reality that the more we cling on to our shortcomings and selfish ways, the more that we drift away from the source of all life and beauty. I wear them on my forehead as a reminder of how my sins take away from me my original beauty in having been created after the very likeness of God. I wear them on my forehead to remind me of my NEED TO BE PURIFIED AND FORGIVEN.

I wear ashes on my forehead today. And they are traced on me in the form of a cross. This is the most important thing that I celebrate today: CHRIST JESUS HAS TRANSFORMED MY SHAME INTO JOY, MY HUMILIATION INTO VICTORY, MY HELPLESSNESS INTO STRENGTH, and MY DEATH INTO LIFE ETERNAL. This my sweet Savior has triumphantly accomplished on the Saving Cross of His love for you and me.

Thus, more than a badge of shame, a sign of humility, a reminder of my need for purification and forgiveness, I wear ashes on my forehead today as a SIGN OF HONOR, a CROWN OF VICTORY, a PLEDGE OF SALVATION, a MARK OF BELONGING TO THE ONE FOLD OF OUR SAVIOR!

Amazing grace how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me, I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see!

"I CREATED THE SEA" (LK5)

Simon to Jesus: Believe me Lord, we've been out the whole night, there was nothing out there! I should know, I am a fisherman. I am the master of the sea! Jesus to Simon: No, YOU believe Me Simon! put out into the deep and lower your nets! There you'll have a great catch! I should know...I CREATED THE SEA!!!

WARNING: LARO LANG ANG FB, MAG EMOTE TALO!

In reality, Facebook (“Facebooking”) is simply engaging in cyber-voyeurism, that is, deriving delight and pleasure at taking a peek into someone else’s daily grind in life, no matter how insignificant and even downright inane it may sometimes be; as well as the almost as pervert urge to “expose” one’s self for the others’ viewing pleasure, by constantly feeding “update” boxes with what you have just eaten, the manner with which you brushed your teeth, or wore your pajamas, or bought that hundredth tall frap of yours, costing you almost half your tuition fee for the second semester and thus momentarily endangering your educational upkeep as well as your fair shot at the future, only so that you could grab your very own copy of this year’s edition of that ridiculous coffee shop planner, which is actually nothing more than a compilation of discount coupons and cloyingly disguised advertisements for their other caffeinated products; your undying love for some imaginary object of desire who doesn’t even know you exist, or at least not on this planet…what you had for your dinner, for breakfast, where you spent the afternoon, that new fancy leash for your mongrel, etc.

Sure some geeks and party poopers may argue that this application is our modern, decadent times’ God-sent opportunity to educate them bad grammarians and good-for-nothing gremlins that completely depend on their parents’ wallets and pockets for their very survival, or an avenue for lecturing others about the deeper meanings of life and other evangelistic agenda. While I am not denying that FB can every once in a while be used to communicate serious stuff to others,the truth, however, remains that after a series of thumb-up signs and likes and comments of whatever kind…everything’s just a game at FB…an extremely creative, innovative, hi-tech, and definitely costly way of wasting time and actually doing nothing…and enjoying every minute of it!

I Envy Them Fishes: Insomnia2

I envy them fishes of all scales and sizes
Which float in their sleep whilst eyes remain open;
No cares to harass their piscean domain,
Bereft of the need to overcome battles;
No dirges to sing, no deaths to bemoan
Save those of the weeds that shelter their spawn.

O yes how could one man not possibly loan
His soul for a moment of quiet and peace,
When all around him reeks of putrid demise
Of the badges of decency and the honors of old;
And after the pillage of the castle of gold
Lay scattered the wreckage of malice and lies.

I envy them fishes for their being spared
Of the burden of speaking when the prophet is dead,
And the lamb has been skewered with the totem of dread;
And the many other species of the lesser floating kind,
That break not in their hearts when the sun becomes crimson,
Nor break out into riot at the fall of a brother!

Insomnia

A one-eyed panther stares at me tonight,
Its orb gleaming with a most surreal cataract
Contemplating an attack but unmoving,
Frozen on its track,
It seems as if it’s eternally on guard,
Patiently waiting for ages
To pounce on an unsuspecting prey

Like me, and many of my kind
Who in the deepest, darkest hours
Would suffer the pangs
Of dilated minds and bursting hearts,
Waiting for the promise that each dawn brings
Yet wallow helplessly,
Endlessly,
In the cold, black pool
Of the reasons why we pray

And the games that we play
While still able and unsaddled
By the all too urgent concerns
Of a grown-up’s artificial world,
Are by now just mere phantoms
Of some innocence long lost,
Utter delight and wispy smiles
At some make believe flights
Aboard spaceships made of card-boards