Confessions of a Confessor

A counsel I just gave to a penitent earlier this afternoon at the confessional boomeranged to me concerning a most vital reality in the life of the taong-grasa : "what one cannot draw out of the meagerness of his resources, he can compensate and bless others with from out of the abundance of his heart." A humbling thought that jabbed right through my core. One that caught me off-guard. A realization that filled me with remorse as I had been reminded of how I would sometimes find myself occasionally besieged with self-pity, insecurity or even foolish anxiety at the onset of a material want, or whenever I would happen to compare my apparent lack with the other's bounty. I realized this is none other than my vocation staring me at the face.I have no need nor have any reason to be mortified whenever my deliberate choice to be poor makes its stark presence felt. Instead, I must rejoice at all times, but most especially in moments that I cannot boast of anything materially or spiritually, when I am most empty, handicapped and of no import whatsoever. For it is during these moments that I am most dependent on Divine Providence. It is during these times that all that I could offer the other is solidarity and presence. The assurance that I am with him in his want and helplessness; that we are fellow beggars and are both at the mercy of God's and others' magnanimity and generosity. And it is in this predicament that I cannot be other than humble and grateful before God and man.

It is for this reason that I should always be keeping guard of my heart more than anything else. The most important task of a taong-grasa is to maintain the treasures of his heart which are kindness, compassion and mercy. These alone can make him of any worth in being a slave of the Gospel.

Nemo dat quid non habet. One cannot give what one doesn't have. One who does not have even an ounce of kindness, compassion nor mercy, cannot possibly be kind, compassionate nor merciful to others. And these three do not just magically grow from within anyone. They must be planted. They must be had. They can only come from the providential hands of God through prayer, mortification and sacrifice. One can only draw kindness, compassion and mercy from his own wretched state if he himself constantly experience being redeemed and enriched by the kindness, compassion and mercy of the Holy Savior.

The Great Great Grandfathers of Bloggers...

Bloggers were invented ca.300 AD, and were originally called "monks." Like their distant (sic)descendents, monks had shitty haircuts, and never got laid...

(ripped from the blog of a Russian blogger who purloined it first from someone else's. a good laugh for a busy weekend!)

The "Askal" Mom at the Table of Jesus (Mk.7, 24-30)

One poor, desperate mom. A daughter in distress, assailed by unclean spirits. No remedies and concoctions could ever help her. All the shamans and witch-doctors she has consulted were of no avail. And just when she was about to snap out of her wits, after exhausting all she could think of to help her wasting child...she heard of Jesus.

They said he was for real. They said he was from God. They said he has what she was hopelessly looking for. She must see Jesus. She MUST meet Jesus. She'll do whatever it takes to secure an audience with Jesus.

But actually meeting him proved to be vastly different from merely hearing about him. She was in for a shocker. She would find out later that he was more serious, more puzzling, more enigmatic, more rivetting in his words than all that has ever been said of him. He was even blunt and quite brutal. He called her a "bitch." "children first, dogs later..." said the sought after Lord.

But the Syro-phoenician's motherly heart was defiant. She did not come all the way here to be dismissed just like that. She came prepared for the wrestling match. "I may be a dog for all I care, but I'll eagerly await some scraps from your table still the same...don't give me the attitude young man...GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!" Here's one challenged Mom who would never have "no" for an answer.

And those were the very words the Lord was waiting for. He was not the least offended. He knew they were coming. He wanted that they burst forth. For unknown to the adamant mother, it was actually Jesus who DID wring her heart dry of every remaining bits and scraps of faith that it contains, and he found them copious and unrelenting. And there lies her salvation. There was found her daughter's resurrection.

Later that day...the holy bitch was said to have been seen prancing gleefuly as she made her way back home...WITH A WIDE, CANINE SMILE ON HER FACE...

i-Tg (ako-Taong-Grasa)

Puyat at pagod ngunit maaga kung gumising. Hindi maaaring tanghaliin at baka masalisod ng mga importante at abalang mga tao na pagputok na pagputok pa lamang ng araw ay karipas na sa pagpaparoo't parito sa mga lansanga't kalsada. Gugugulin niya ang mga unang sandali ng pagkagising sa pananahimik, pagbulong sa sarili (siguro'y panalangin), paghikab ng malalim at pagtitig sa malayo sa isang 'di mawaring bagay na s'ya lang ang nakaaalam kung ano. Malabnaw na kapeng makailang-ulit pang babantuan ng nilagang tubig sa pag-usad ng maghapon. Mga lumang diyaryong paulit-ulit na babasahin at matiim na pagninilayan na waring biblia sa turing. Sigarilyong mapait sa kamay na ngawit.

Madalas ay tahimik. Dinadaan-daanan. Nililihisan. Madalang kibuin o tapunan ng pansin pagka't mata'y nanlilisik. Bigla-bigla na lamang tumatawa ng malakas pag nakakita ng nagumpugang mga daga na naguunahan sa paglabas-masok sa mga butas at siwang.

May hawak na bolpen, lapis, at kahit anong uri ng pira-pirasong papel. Ito ang kaniyang sandaang mga sandata sa marami niyang pakikibaka. Ang mga ito ay ang kanyang baril, bomba, taga, lagari, pinsel, paet, karayom at sinulid, martilyo at pako, semento at bato.

Sa kapirasong santwaryo ng paborito n'yang sulok, doon s'ya nakalilikha, nakatitibag, nakapagtatahi, nakapaghihimay, nakabubuhay, nakapaglalakbay, nakikipag-niig sa mga anghel at santo, nakikipagtunggali sa mga ungas at demonyo.

'Pagkat walang magtangka na siya ay hawakan, ay malaya niyang naipapahayag ang kanyang mga saloobin. Magnanakaw ang tawag niya sa mga magnanakaw. Ganid kung ganid, mangmang kung mangmang. Tanging ingay at alulong ang kanyang naririnig sa mga hungkag na dalangi't papuri sa mga simbahan. At nasasamid at 'di mabigkas ng tuwid ang katagang 'kagalang-galang' kapag ang pinatutungkulan ay mga lantarang kawatan. Walang kagatol-gatol kung kanyang singaha't duraan ang mga plantsadong gayak ng mga pusakal. At 'di rin niya sinasakyan ang kinang at taginting ng mga kinahuhumalingan. Basura ang turing n'ya sa mga pinahahalagahang yaman ng iba. At ang kanyang mga basura ang tangi n'yang kayamanan.

Hindi niya gawaing makipag-siksikan. 'Di rin lalo ang makipag-unahan. Kung saan naroon ang libo-libong karamihan, ito ang kaniyang pinakaiiwas-iwasan. Hindi siya baliw at kapos sa pag-iisip. Ang 'di lang niya maunawaan ay kung bakit pagkarami-rami ang hindi mapakali, 'di masiyahan, ang 'di maibsan ang tila palalim ng palalim na paghahangad sa mga bagay na parang alikabok din lang naman, na saglit lang na maiipon at kakapal sa mga pansamantalang impukan, ngunit dagli ring isinasambulat ng mga biglaang pagbuga ng hangin. Hindi niya maintindihan kung bakit 'di maintindihan ng marami, na sapat nang biyaya ang hininga, ang ulirat, ang kakayahang umawit hanggang mamalat, ang lumaboy ng malaya kung saan mo maibigan, ang mag-ingay, manahimik, lumuha at tumawa, nang walang nagdidikta, nag-uutos o nagtutulak, kundi ang maalab na udyok ng likas na kalayaan.

Awa at pagkarimarim ang araw-araw na limos sa kaniya ng mga napapadaan o nakatatanaw sa kaniya sa mga 'di kalayuan. Awa't rimarim din naman ang ganti niyang bati sa mga nagbabato nito. Hindi niya ipinaghihinagpis ang mga pagkakataon na walang mangahas tumabi, makipag-usap ni makiramdam man lang sa kaniya. Ito nga'y mas mainam pa, upang 'di maantala ang mahalaga niyang tungkulin bilang taga-usig sa pinag-isang budhi ng naliligaw na bayan, at paminsan-minsang kalaro ng mga maya't langgam.

PENANCE FOR BRUNCH

Oatmeal, peppered pecan and dried cranberries. Late morning snack. Doesn't seem right. But it doesn't taste that bad either. It just feels weird in the mouth especially when you are craving for Vigan langgonisa, bagnet, garlic rice and ice-cold Coke. I needed to off-set my previous day's indulgences. No complaints. I'm exerting heroic efforts to savor every spoonful and imagines I am feasting on a huge bowl of pasta with prosciutto and sun-dried tomatoes. All it takes is just a bit of imagination and tons of guts to swallow each mouthful of this revolting concoction!

The Bitter Aftertaste of an Otherwise Hearty Breakfast

The restlessness of the moment hangs thick in the air. It's only towards nightfall that a nation, who just this morning has rudely awakened to the shocking news of retired general Angelo Reyes' suicide at the tomb-site of his parents, has slowly come to grips of the sheer magnitude and awful implications of the on-going and still unfolding revelations on the massive and cancerous corruption in the military establishment and the past regimes in general (pun intended). Most everyone at this time is glued to his or her television and transistor radio following every bit the news reports in an attempt to make sense of the fragmented and surreal bytes on what has exactly happened earlier this day. There is this disorienting and numbing sensation that seem to swirl in my head and chest as I too try to follow the news on TV.

Neither one among us (my three friends and me), who trooped earlier at the Marikina riverbanks for a good morning brisk-walk and lugaw, had the slightest inkling that a "hara-kiri" of sorts has already transpired at the memorial park which is just a few kilometers away from where we were having our sunrise fellowship.

Everyone now seems to have something to say on what has just happened. Opinions and unsolicited theories and interpretations of the late general's last actuations and eventually his snuffing out of his own life are aplenty.

All these, however, would lead to nowhere nor be of any help to anyone if the shattering event will not be brought to humble prayer and an honest to goodness examination of our collective soul as a people.

Now is not the time for any finger-pointing nor the empty and oftentimes annoying couch-debates of those who always turn into instant experts and authorities on any issue that happens to be the buzz of the moment. If there is one thing everyone could lay a hand on as his or her take in this morning's rather grim breakfast, then that could only be a serious self-scrutiny as to how in some way one has contributed in the creation of this monster that now haunts and eats up the nation.

Litany of the Taong-Grasa

Lord,

Make me a fool, be my wisdom.
Make me a beggar, be my sustenance.
Make me a loser, be my victory.
Make me a dog, be my master.
Make me an eyesore, be my beauty.

Make me a weakling, be my fortress.
Make me a vagabond, be my home.
Make me a wound, be my balm.
Make me a disease, be my medicine.
Make me a trash, be my scavenger.

Make me succumb for breath and be for me, fresh air.
Make me stammer and lost for words, and be for me, eloquence.
Make me a paralytic whenever I attempt to foolishly prove anything on my own,
so you can knock me on the head, and bring me back on my feet.

O make of me whatever you fancy,
and discard me just as quickly when you're done.
That I may rejoice immensely,
in blessed anonymity!

GUNAM-GUNAM SA LACSON UNDERPASS (Quiapo Series VI)

Bakit makikipagsiksikan sa agawan ng pagiging kung sino, kung malaya namang masusunggaban ang hindi pagiging kahit na ano? O magkandarapa sa pakikihablot sa mga ambisyong para lamang bula? O mga katawagang nakakalimutan din naman kalaunan? Bakit nga ba hahanap pa ng agad ding mawawala? Ang mga 'di likas sa kung sino o bakit ako narito ngayon, at 'di mananaig sa kahulihan kapag ako'y 'di na umiiral?

Mapang-aliw ang bawat naririnig ng tainga. Mapang-akit ang prusisyon ng mga nakikita. Ang bawat madama ay mapang-halina sa bawat nitong kilatis, hugis, kinis at gaspang. Nakakikiliti't nakapapaso. Nakapagpapa-init, nakapanlalamig. Nakapupukaw ng damdamin. Nakapang-hehele't nakagigitla.

Pero ang lahat ay dali-dali ring mawawala. Laro lang ang lahat ng pakikipag-niig at pakikipag-tunggali. Pamatid-inip sa mistulang kahabaan ng sa totoo'y saglit lang na takbo ng buhay.

Ang 'di batid na hiwaga na siyang naroon na bago ko pa man unang naimulat ang aking mga mata, ang siya ring tanging sasalubong sa akin kapag ang mga ito ay ipipikit ko na.

Ang lahat ng mayroon ako sa kasalukuyan ay malalagom lamang sa kapirasong pagitan ng sinapupuna't libingan. Lubhang napaka-ikli upang gugulin ko pa sa anumang 'di kapaki-pakinabang, o kaya'y aksayahin sa nakau-upod lang na mga alitan o kahumalingan. Kaya't sa pirming amba ng napipinto at 'di maaantalang pag-tila ng lahat kong nakagisnan, ang marapat na lamang na pagtuunan ng natitira kong panahon at kakayahan (sapagkat kasabay ding kumakaltas sa bilang ng mga ito ang bawat dahong nalalagas sa tala-arawan), ay ang pagpapanatili ng aking mga kalayaang:

- Mabuhay ng payak at 'di natatabunan ng mga basura't pasanin;
- Magbahagi at sumagap ng pagpapala araw-araw;
- Tumawa ng malakas kahit walang kadahilanan;
- Maghugas ng aking mga kasalanan sa pamamagitan ng pag-luha;
- Umibig ng walang pasubali;
- Umigib sa balong walang lalim;
- Umawit kahit wala sa tono;
- Umindak ng parang baliw;
- Maligo sa ulan katulad nung ako'y maliit pa;
- Magtago't mawala kung gusto ko ng tahimik;
- Lumitaw na bigla sa pagpapatuloy ng buhay.

(Matagal-tagal na rin pala akong nakatayo dito sa kanto ng lagusan ng R. Hidalgo at Quezon Boulevard. Parami na ng parami ang mga nagdaraan. Kailangan ko nang magpatuloy ng lakad. Nakahambalang na ako sa daan).

BIERNES (Quiapo Series V)

Isang maitim at malawak na dagat ng mga ulo ang sasalubong sa paningin sa gawing kanan ng Quezon Bridge kung ika'y palusong sa Quiapo mula sa Plaza Lawton. Kung galing naman sa Espana, wala rin namang magagawa kahit sino, kahit na anong uri ng sasakyan, kundi ang magpa-anod sa baha-bahagyang pag-usad ng mabagal na daloy ng trapik ng sasakyan. Parang ilog na naipon mula sa kung saan-saan, nagtagpu-tagpo at nagbuhol-buhol, paliko ng Lerma, pababa sa underpass at paahon sa bahagi ng Quezon Boulevard na bumabagtas sa gilid ng simbahan. Ito ang eksena sa mga kalsada sa tuwing Biernes sa Quiapo.

Mga kababaihan, marami sa kanila'y mga lola at balo, na nakabihis ng damit na maroon, nasisinturunan ng dilaw na lubid, at may koronang gawa sa mga daho't murang baging ng makabuhay. Walang puknat na nobena, mga misa, at naglalagab-lab na tirikan ng mga kandilang sari-sari ang kulay para sa iba't ibang mga pakay: pula para sa pag-ibig, itim sa kaaway, puti sa pasasalamat, berde para sa masaganang kita. Mayroon ding asul para sa kapanatagan ng loob, pink sa 'di matiyak na kadahilanan, at iba't iba pang mga neon na kulay sa marami pang pangangailangan at hiling. Maaari ding dikitan ng mga hugis taong kandila at kasabay na ipalusaw sa ningas para mas matalab daw at mabisa.

Sa palibot ng simbahan, at maging sa kahabaan ng Quezon Boulevard, naroon naman ang mahabang hanay ng mga karitong nagbebenta ng iba't ibang mga dahon, sanga, langis, pulbos, kabibe, buto, at bato na nakagagaling di umano sa lahat ng uri ng mga sakit gaya ng lagnat, ubo, pilay, bukol, kulugo, pagkahilo...at may bonus pang pamparegla.

Amg mga mandarasal sa loob ng simbahan ay abalang nananalangin para sa mga kaluluwang aplikante sa langit, habang sa labas at palibot naman nito'y kandarapa ang mga manghuhula sa pangangalat ng mabuti o masamang balita sa mga suking kliyente. Lahat ay ibinabadya ng mga bituin at guhit ng palad. May mga suswertehin sa negosyo, makapag-aasawa ng mayamang matandang madaling mamatay, makapag-aabrod at magkakaroon ng bahay at kotse. Ang iba naman 'di umano'y minalas na magka-asawang tahinik ngunit may alaga namang kulasisi, o katulong na pinagkakatiwalaan ngunit magnanakaw palang lihim. Depende lang naman ito kung malaki o maliit ang bayad kay madame at propesor.

Wika ng Panginoon sa Mahal na Ebanghelyo: "humanap ka at ika'y makasusumpong." Sa Quiapo kung Biernes, walang hahanapin na 'di masusumpungan. Siya'y may tugon sa lahat ng katanungan, may inumin sa lahat ng pagka-uhaw, pagkain sa lahat ng pagka-gutom. Himalang napagkakasya niya ang lahat ng dumarayo at nagpapakupkop sa kaniya. Walang sinuman ang walang mapaglulugaran. Wala ring dunong, gaano man ang lalim, ang makapangahas magpaliwanag ng tiyak sa lingguhang piging na ito ng buhay at mga pangarap.

Walang ibang himala sa Quiapo kung araw ng Biernes kundi ang Quiapo rin mismo. Ang Quiapo'y isang malaking katanungan; siay'y mismong ang kasagutan din. Nakamamanghang palaisipan na 'di naman talaga nangangailangan ng iisang tumpak na kalutasan.

Hindi paghihimay sa samu't saring mga bahagi ang susi sa pagtuklas ng hiwaga ng Quiapo. Ang Quiapo'y dinarayo, dinarama, tinitikman, pinagmamasdan, pinakikinggan, pinakikiramdaman, pinakikitunguhan, kina-kausap, kinakaibigan, kinakamayan, kinakarinyo, iginagalang, pinagmamanuhan, pinupulsuhan, pinakikipamayan.

Sya ay magkapanabay na hamon at paanyaya. Sa sandaling matikman, hinding-hindi tatantanan. At 'di rin niya kailanman tatantanan ang sino mang sa landas niya'y mapadaan.

KIONG HEE HUAT TSAI! (resolution for the Year of the Metal Rabbit)

KIONG HEE HUAT TSAI! Year of the Metal Rabbit. Hop-py as a hare. I was born under the rabbit sign (the wooden variety). I did go through most part of my life in a somewhat "hopping" manner. But at one point I realized it's tiring and even aimless at times. So many opportunities wasted. Goals set aside. Important matters overlooked. So for this year I decided there will no longer be any more hopping for me. Henceforth I shall deal with what remains of my life, one step at a time. Each day would be a day for me to give the best. Each task I would strive to attend to with utmost care. Each walk, a purposeful one. Each person, the most important one at the moment. I shall celebrate each Eucharist as if it were my first and last. Each word I'll utter I shall choose very carefully, seeing to it that it contributes to the good of the one I am talking to, otherwise, I'll just have to shut my mouth. I shall avoid hopping from one interest to another, which often ends with my accomplishing nothing at the day's end. Shifting loyalties will never be in my agenda. I shall strive to only be Christ's at all times - even when no one's looking. And since there's no way I could know up to when I shall be roaming this happy, sometimes harried earth, then I might as well enjoy and enrich and be enriched by each passing day, savoring every minute, blessing every moment. I am resolved to be a blessing for others. I shall be a grateful recipient of the many blessings from others.