To Be Like a Child

Not many but much.

2009-05-16T14:27:00.002+08:00

Father-General Nicolas, the superior-general of the Society of Jesus, was in the Philippines a few days ago and he celebrated Mass and gave a talk at school. I wasn't able to attend either event, but my colleague shared a summary of his talk. The theme of it was "Not many, but much" and the real meaning of Magis, depth and universality.

When I was in college, "not many but much" was the wallpaper on my cellphone. A reminder in prayer that what matters is not the number of scripture readings but the depth with which one enters them. A reminder in my org that what matters is not the number of activities but the depth of the activities and the reach of their love.

And I hope that I might continue to be inspired by Ignatius' words today, as a mom, as a wife, as a teacher.

Happy Easter!

2008-03-23T09:23:00.002+08:00

Happy Easter, everyone!

Just wanted to quickly share: Fr. Danny Huang ended his Holy Thursday homily by pointing out that Mark's version of the Last Supper account ends with Jesus and the apostles singing. It's the only time we read of Jesus singing, he points out.

Holy Thursday Mass.

2008-03-18T21:31:00.004+08:00

Holy Thursday Mass ... the last Mass before Easter, the Mass that has no end. I haven't been to Holy Thursday Mass in a few years, and I'm longing to go this year.

The Seven Deadly Sins.

2008-03-16T21:22:00.003+08:00

Pride, sloth, lust, greed, gluttony, anger, envy.

What makes them deadly?

I don't know the theologically correct answer to that, but a few days ago, as I was reflecting on my lack of Lenten spirit, here's what occurred to me.

They are deadly because they are the feelings, emotions, and dispositions that disguise, that numb, our thirst for God.

When we lack God in our life, the emptiness that is supposed to remind us of our desire for God gets covered up by our pride (our desire to build ourselves up), our sloth (our lack of desire to do anything), our lust, our greed ....

And instead of getting in touch with the part of ourselves that hungers for God, we address, instead, the pride or sloth or lust or greed, trying to fill ourselves up with things that give us superficial satisfaction. We become self-righteous or adopt an attitude of entitlement, we fill our idle hours with superficial time-wasters, we try to gratify our sexual desire with loveless sexual conquests, we fill our lives with material things that we don't really need but which we think make us feel better. And yet, beneath the momentary pleasure that all that brings, the emptiness and lack of God remains, a gaping hollowness deep within our hearts.

The amazing thing, however, is that, as St. Augustine reminds us, God can bring goodness even out of evil situations. And maybe, if we are aware of how the devil works, then the next time any of the seven deadly sins strikes, we can recognize the moment as a sign that we need God in our lives, and respond by striving harder to nourish our relationship with the Lord.

Have a blessed Holy Week, everyone. May all of us get in touch with our thirst for God.

Christmas

2007-12-26T18:23:00.000+08:00

And the Word became flesh, and dwelt among us.

Happy Christmas, everyone!!!!!!!!

Prayer session.

2007-08-01T22:44:00.000+08:00

This school year, I was invited to guide a prayer group again. It's been five years since I last did it.

One of my colleagues and mentors remarked that it was going to be different, because I was older. Looking through the old prayer materials and points I prepared for my "guidees" all those years ago, I realized he was right. I could see how in the past, I had rushed a lot of the themes, insisting on getting to a "target" theme within a certain period of time ... similar, I suppose, to the way I handle my lesson plans.

Today, at prayer session, while the group was in silent prayer, I too prayed, and I told God that I was feeling apprehensive, scared, unworthy. I felt like Jeremiah. "It's not your work, but Mine," He reassured me.

Thomas Merton

2007-07-14T16:05:00.000+08:00

I've been reading Seven Storey Mountain. A colleague found it in a second-hand bookstore priced at 35 bucks, and he bought it because he "knew that someone at work would want it." I was that lucky someone.

Edifying, inspiring.

And again, Serendipity.

2007-02-20T23:28:00.000+08:00

And again, God speaks to me so clearly, that I ought to slap myself.

Today's Scripture:

Mark 9, 30-37

They came to Capernaum; and when Jesus was in the house he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the way?" But they were silent, for on the way they had argued with one another who was the greatest. He sat down, called the twelve, and said to them, "Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all." Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me."

Thirty-five minutes before Lent

2007-02-20T23:22:00.000+08:00

Help me, Lord, to see in the hunger I experience, my hunger for You.

Help me, Lord, to be fixated, firstly and mostly, on You.

Bless, Lord, this Broken Body.

I offer all to You.

Amen.

Happy New Year; Happy Feast of the Epiphany!

2007-01-05T22:36:00.000+08:00

The Christmas season is drawing to a close (it ends on the Feast of the Lord's Baptism).

Today I spent some quiet time praying at Sacred Space, a website that has guided me through many periods over the last several years.

When I was being formed under Ignatian Spirituality, one tip that I learned regarding discernment was to bring one's concern to the Eucharist, and to listen through the Liturgy what God might be saying about that concern.

Well, when the passage for today's prayer (Friday, January 5) materialized on my computer screen, my hair almost stood on end, because I felt as if God was speaking almost directly about my current concerns.

Here's the passage:

The next day Jesus decided to go to Galilee. He found Philip and said to him, "Follow me." Now Philip was from Bethsaida, the city of Andrew and Peter. Philip found Nathanael and said to him, "We have found him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote, Jesus son of Joseph from Nazareth." Nathanael said to him, "Can anything good come out of Nazareth?" Philip said to him, "Come and see." When Jesus saw Nathanael coming toward him, he said of him, "Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!" Nathanael asked him, "Where did you get to know me?" Jesus answered, "I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you." Nathanael replied, "Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!" Jesus answered, "Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these." And he said to him, "Very truly, I tell you, you will see heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Man."

- John 1, 43-51

And if that weren't enough, the randomized instruction for the colloquy part of the prayer echoed the theme I personally chose for this blog:

Jesus, You always welcomed little children when you walked on this earth.
Teach me to have a childlike trust in you.
To live in the knowledge that You will never abandon me.

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"Come and see."

When I dwelt on the passage, Nathaneal's initial reaction sounded, to me, almost arrogant: "What good can come out of Nazareth?"

Yet Philip's reply was far from defensive. Instead, he very gently said, "Come and see."

The very same line that Jesus said to the two disciples who wanted to know where He was staying.

"Come and see."

I used to read and talk about that very same line when I was a speaker for DWTL.

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During the Colloquy, I prayed to the Lord to give me the grace to be a better witness. A gentle witness.

As the Deer

2006-12-21T12:39:00.000+08:00

On the first Sunday of Advent, the choir at Church sang a song from my childhood that I really love (corny last two stanzas notwithstanding). It's by Martin Nystrom, based on the first lines of Psalm 42:

As The Deer

As the deer panteth for the water
So my soul longeth after Thee.
You alone are my heart's desire
And I long to worship Thee.

Refrain:
You alone are my strength, my shield,
To You alone may my spirit yield.
You alone are my heart's desire,
And I long to worship Thee.

You're my friend and you are my brother
Even though You are a King.
I love You more than any other,
So much more than anything.

I want You more than gold or silver
Only You can satisfy.
You alone are the real joy giver
And the apple of my eye.

The song has been playing in mind since I heard it three weeks ago, and after prayer session on Tuesday night with my prayer-mates, I now know why.

Advent, a season of penitence.

2006-12-07T00:56:00.000+08:00

Some rambling, random thoughts ....

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When I was in college, our Advent prayer sessions in CLC would, of course, touch on the theme of waiting.

But only in the past few years have I come to a special appreciation of Advent as a penitential season. These past few days, I've joked about it to my husband ("Maybe the early Church leaders thought Advent should be a penitential season so people would fast, because they know that people tend to overeat on Christmas day!"), to my friends ("Okay lang kung nagchi-Christmas blues ka; it's a penitential season!") and to my students.

But underlying my jokes I feel a growing sensitivity to this sacred time of penitence, this sacred time of preparation.

This past Lent I was so busy with wedding preparations that I didn't feel myself entering properly into the penitential season.

This Advent, however, I feel that each day, the Lord is drawing me more and more into the rhythm of this season, this rhythm of inward-looking, of reflection and recollection, of healing my relationship with Him ....

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I was observing in my other blog that some of my friends have been complaining that they do not yet feel "the Christmas spirit," or that the end-of-the-year Christmas blues have struck again.

But maybe this is all meant to tell us something about the true meaning of Christmas, and the character of Christ's coming.

Advent, I was taught at catechism class when I was very young, is a time to prepare our hearts to receive the Lord.

The assumption there is that our hearts are often not disposed properly to receive the Lord.

And perhaps, if we do not feel the Christmas spirit, or if we are undergoing Christmas blues, it is a sign for us to look into our heart and see how we can dispose it better to welcome the Lord.

Going through my old blog entries, I found a prayer for all my friends going through their pre-Christmas blues ....

Advent Prayer
by Henri J.M. Nouwen

Lord Jesus,

Master of both the light and the darkness, send your Holy Spirit upon our preparations for Christmas.
We who have so much to do seek quiet spaces to hear your voice each day.
We who are anxious over many things look forward to your coming among us.
We who are blessed in so many ways long for the complete joy of your kingdom.
We whose hearts are heavy seek the joy of your presence.
We are your people, walking in darkness, yet seeking the light.
To you we say, "Come Lord Jesus!"

Amen.

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How is the penitential season of Advent different from the penitential season of Lent? I'm not sure what the theologically correct answer is to that, but this is how I feel about it at this stage in my life ....

Lent for me is symbolic of hope amid despair, suffering, death ... the hope of Christ's triumph over evil and sin.

Advent for me is symbolic of hope amid the emptiness that comes in the secular mad rush of things to do, amid the emptiness of a life without God ... the hope of Christ's power to radiate within our mundane, ordinary lives and light it up with the splendor of His love.

At Easter, Christ triumphed over sin.

At Christmas, Christ entered into the ordinary and transfigured it, making it extraordinary.

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These past few days, I've been humming "I Love the Lord" to myself.

REFRAIN:
I love the Lord, He is filled with compassion.
He turned to me on the day that I called.
From the snares of the dark, O, Lord, save my life,
be my strength.

Gracious is the Lord, and just.
Our God is mercy, rest to the weary.
Return my soul to the Lord our God who bids tears away.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)

How can I repay the Lord for all the goodness He has shown me?
I will raise the cup of salvation and call on His name.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)

I shall live my vows to You before Your people,
I am Your servant.
I will offer You my sacrifice of praise and of pray'r.
I love the Lord. (REFRAIN)

The Windhover

2006-12-07T00:45:00.000+08:00

When I was young and fancied myself a lit major, I loved much of Father Hopkins' poetry, but one poem na di ko ma-get was the Windhover.

I read it again today and now I think I get it.

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The Windhover

To Christ our Lord

I CAUGHT this morning morning’s minion, king-
dom of daylight’s dauphin, dapple-dawn-drawn Falcon, in his riding
Of the rolling level underneath him steady air, and striding
High there, how he rung upon the rein of a wimpling wing
In his ecstasy! then off, off forth on swing,
As a skate’s heel sweeps smooth on a bow-bend: the hurl and gliding
Rebuffed the big wind. My heart in hiding
Stirred for a bird,—the achieve of; the mastery of the thing!

Brute beauty and valour and act, oh, air, pride, plume, here
Buckle! AND the fire that breaks from thee then, a billion
Times told lovelier, more dangerous, O my chevalier!

No wonder of it: shéer plód makes plough down sillion
Shine, and blue-bleak embers, ah my dear,
Fall, gall themselves, and gash gold-vermillion.

- Gerard Manley Hopkins, S.J.

The Pope and the Patriarch

2006-11-30T18:18:00.000+08:00

I find it very cool that the Pope is at Mass with the Patriarch in Turkey.

And I find it very cool that the Pope celebrated a tiny Mass at Ephesus, where Mary was supposed to have lived at the end of her life.

Christ the King!!

2006-11-26T13:36:00.000+08:00

Today is the Feast of Christ the King, the culmination of the Catholic Liturgical Year in the Latin Rite. All glory to Him!

Love at first sight, love in hindsight.

2006-11-25T13:12:00.000+08:00

My friend Noel, a deacon preparing for his presbyterate ordination in Kentucky has a nice reflection on loving God at first sight, or loving God in hindsight.

Fr. Danny's talk.

2006-11-25T12:57:00.000+08:00

originally posted on my other blog, but relevant here as well

Fr. Danny Huang, SJ, the Philippine provincial of the Jesuits, gave the faculty a talk yesterday about what it means for Ateneo de Manila to be a Jesuit, Catholic university in this day and age.

As one could expect from Fr. Danny, it was a very good talk; the complexities were well-articulated and his ideas were nuanced and forceful.

First he emphasized that the Jesuit's educational apostolate is only one among its many apostolates.

Second, he talked about Paul's letter to Philemon and reflected about how that letter demonstrates how Christ had transformed the world in that Christ's message allowed for a new way of looking at property, at freedom, at social justice, at money, at persons.

The Church's mission is not expansion, he emphasized, but the redemption of history. It is (and this is my rephrasing) the creation of a new world order in every and all areas of human life, such that the world here may begin to look more like the Kingdom of God. In my own words again: the Church seeks not to increase in number, but to transform the world. (Something that one can only understand, I think, when one stops seeing the Church as "a denomination.")

In this sense, the Church sharply rejects the privatization of faith, the notion that faith is something that is articulated and experienced only in one's private life.

What, then, does it mean to be a Catholic university?

Again, my rephrasing: it is not merely a question of adding a Catholic element (such as theology classes or a campus ministry) to the work of a university, more than that and more importantly, it is to be a university in a way that is oriented to the redemption of history.

It is to form and educate the youth as mature Catholics or at least mature Christians or at least youths with a mature sense of the transcendent, young people, then, who emerge from university "with their hearts transformed and their freedom reoriented." It is to prepare our students as future professionals -- but to do this in a way that has been touched by the mission of building the Kingdom of God here on earth. In other words, it is to form students to be citizens and professionals for service and (if you prefer) nation-building. It is to do research that reflects on questions in light of God's mission to redeem history, drawing from the Catholic tradition of wisdom in an integrated and appropriate way. It is to be, as an institution, a witness to and advocate of the message of the Gospel in society and the world.

To be a Catholic university, then, does not make the university less of a university in the interest of becoming more Catholic. Moreover, being a Catholic university is not to become a monastery, or a seminary, or an NGO. (Again, the university is just one among the many apostolates of the Jesuits, and for that matter, just one sector in the entire world that the Church seeks to transform.)

To be a Catholic university is to be a university, a good university, an excellent university, in a thoroughly Catholic way. (My own reflection: in the same way that to be a Catholic person is to allow the Gospel to transform and reorient my entire human life, to be a Catholic university is to allow the Gospel to transform and reorient its being a university.)

Fr. Danny ended with some reflections on the realities within which the university must discern on the best way to proceed in this. Some of those realities including the diminishing number of Jesuits in the province, the increasing pluralism in society and among our students and faculty. Given this, the university must discern how to accomplish this task appropriately. Some of the questions raised in the open forum articulated this more specifically: the university must discern, for example, when it is best to explicitly label its work as "Catholic" and when it is appropriate to be more implicit; it must discern which practices and symbols to publicly express; it must discern how to dialogue with other faiths in a way that is true to its Catholicism yet also ecumenical and non-exclusive in spirit.

Truly, it was an excellent, thought-provoking talk.

Being thirty.

2006-11-19T02:09:00.000+08:00

Turning thirty makes one realize how short life is. Last week, when I met with my college buds, our conversation turned to parents and how sad we were about the realization that they were getting older. Turning thirty makes one realize that one's life may very well be half over. It's quite a surprise, really, considering that we've only barely just slipped out of youth. Suddenly there is so little time.

Turning thirty makes one realize that most people don't really change dramatically over the years. At thirty, I'm still plagued by many of the same insecurities I had when I was twenty. Sure, I'm a little bit wiser, a little bit more grounded, a little bit happier, a little less confused. But my mind still gets trapped in some old bad habits, I still find myself with some of the same self-doubt that I had ten years ago.

Turning thirty makes one realize how much of our time is consumed by the mundane. So many hours of the day are spent making a living; even the hours we don't spend making a living are spent recovering from the hours that we do. I'm lucky that my means to make a living is something I love to do and something that fulfills me; many, whether by choice or by circumstance, are not as fortunate.

Turning thirty makes one learn to let go. One realizes that some dreams need to be prioritized over others; that going through one door means closing others. We choose one career path over another, one battle over another, one vocation over another, one person over another, one life over another. And we learn that while choosing and letting go may sometimes be difficult, within it we find serenity.

Turning thirty teaches one to say, "I don't have all the answers. I don't know." The illusion of the omnipotence and omniscience of youth is shattered. We find that there are questions we cannot answer, mysteries we cannot understand, problems we cannot work out. And that it is okay. We learn to make the best of what we have.

Turning thirty, maybe, allows one to rediscover God in a new way. We learn, I think, to be more open. To be more accepting. To be more grateful. We inch just a tiny bit closer to being able to say, "Thy will be done."

Ayos lang. Ayos lang.

Mass Readings on My Birthday

2006-11-01T23:29:00.000+08:00

I wasn't able to go to Mass on my birthday, something that I regret. I looked at the readings for the day, however, and wonder of wonders, the first two readings were about being children of God! Isn't that a fantastic coincidence!

From the first reading:

Be imitators of God, as beloved children, and live in love, as Christ loved us and handed himself over for us as a sacrificial offering to God for a fragrant aroma....

For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light.

The responsorial psalm was more explicitly about being like a child:

R. (see Eph. 5:1) Behave like God as his very dear children. 
Blessed the man who follows not the counsel of the wicked Nor walks in the way of sinners, nor sits in the company of the insolent, But delights in the law of the LORD and meditates on his law day and night.
 R. Behave like God as his very dear children. 
He is like a tree planted near running water, That yields its fruit in due season, and whose leaves never fade. Whatever he does, prospers. 
R. Behave like God as his very dear children.
 Not so the wicked, not so; they are like chaff which the wind drives away. For the LORD watches over the way of the just, but the way of the wicked vanishes. 
R. Behave like God as his very dear children.

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The Gospel for the day was about Christ healing a crippled woman on the Sabbath, to the consternation of many in the synagogue. Christ replies, "Ought she not to have been set free on this sabbath day from this bondage?"

Litany of Humility

2006-10-26T19:38:00.000+08:00

written by Cardinal Merry del Val
(He was accustomed to recite this prayer daily after the celebration of Holy Mass.)

O Jesus meek and humble of heart, Hear me.
From the desire of being esteemed, Deliver, me, Jesus.
From the desire of being loved, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being extolled, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being honored, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being praised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being preferred to others, Deliver me Jesus.
From the desire of being consulted, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the desire of being approved, Deliver me, Jesus.

From the fear of being humiliated, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being despised, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of suffering rebukes, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being calumniated, Deliver, me, Jesus.
From the fear of being forgotten, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being ridiculed, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being wronged, Deliver me, Jesus.
From the fear of being suspected, Deliver me, Jesus.

That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be esteemed more than I, Jesus grant me the grace to desire it.
That in the opinion of the world, others may increase, and I may decrease, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be chosen and I set aside, Jesus grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be praised and I unnoticed, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may be preferred to me in everything, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.
That others may become holier than I, provided that I become as holy as I should, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

Amen.

Gratitude

2006-10-19T01:44:00.000+08:00

I know myself, I know the way I write, and I know this blog is going to get very, um, onerous for some readers, so I might as well start with something light. Here's something I wrote a few days ago.

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Gratitude

There's a little parable about a girl who is tired of bearing her cross. She asks God if she can change her cross. God allows her to experiment with several other crosses. Each one, she finds, is somehow wrong for her. Finally, she finds a cross that fits her shoulders. To her surprise, it is her original cross, the very cross she wanted to give up. The story I'm about to tell is a little bit like that.

When I was in college, I heard a friend of mine, a Jesuit, give a talk at a prayer session, where he shared with the audience that the one grace he had constantly prayed for in the novitiate was the grace of a happy heart. It was a grace, he said, that he had been granted.

Looking at my friend's face, I knew it was true. He really was one of the happiest people I knew.

I felt moved by his story.

And envious.

I knew I didn't have a happy heart. I had happy moments, yes, but I also often had a heavy heart.

I wondered whether I should ask God for the same grace. And so sometimes I did. "Please God, give me the grace of a happy heart," I would pray. But each time I did I wondered whether it was the grace I ought to be asking for. Whether it truly was the grace for me.

I remembered being a young philosophy major. A teacher of ours had said in class that philosophy majors could be spotted a mile away: somehow they always seemed to be not quite at home with the world. And from that discomfort sprung their questions. And from those questions sprung philosophy.

And so even moreso, as I remained a philosophy student, I envied those with happy hearts but wondered if my heart was meant to be happy.

I also envied those with innocent hearts. I knew mine was not innocent. If anything, I seemed sometimes to be uncomfortably attuned to the pain of the world, sensitive to its despair. I was often angered by its injustice. And so I also wondered if I should ask for an innocent heart.

Once, some friends of mine said that I was very generous. Perhaps I have a generous heart?, I asked myself. But again, I knew it wasn't true. I knew better than anyone how selfish my heart really was. Is.

Over the past few years, however, I've realized that as He has patiently moulded me and formed me, He has already given me the grace that He knew was for me even before I knew I desired it.

I've been blessed with the grace of a grateful heart.

For all my sinfulness, my weakness, my faults -- beneath it all He gives me the heart with which to feel how overflowing and abundant His grace continues to be. Wondrously, sublimely, He continues to bless me, and bless me again with the eyes to see.

To Be Like A Child

2006-10-19T01:30:00.000+08:00

Why "To Be Like A Child"? Earlier this semester, I was sitting in a colleague's class, and the topic was Nietzsche. The class was passionately discussing Nietzsche's rage at ... well, at everything and everyone ... and everything and everyone that represented what he thought God represented. With Nietzsche's voice many of them were able to speak about their own rage, or skepticism, or criticism ....

Finally, I couldn't constrain myself any longer and I said, I don't understand Nietzsche. Here he is, angry at everything, skeptical about everything -- Christians, religious people, the world ... God. But really, maybe it's a lot simpler? Maybe faith is really just about surrendering to the God who loved us first. Maybe really, it's about being like a child ....

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I know I am far from being a child. But on the door of my bathroom, I had for many years (until finally the adhesive on the tape wore off and it fell), a print-out of a poem by Karl Rahner, in which I emphasized one line:

God of My Life

Only in love can I find you, my God.
In love the gates of my soul spring open,
allowing me to breathe a new air of freedom
and forget my own petty self.
In love my whole being streams forth
out of the rigid confines of narrowness and anxious self-assertion,
which makes me a prisoner of my own poverty and emptiness.
In love all the powers of my soul flow out toward you,
wanting never more to return,
but to lose themselves completely in you,
since by your love you are the inmost center of my heart,
closer to me than I am to myself.

But when I love you,
when I manage to break out of the narrow circle of self
and leave behind the restless agony of unanswered questions,
when my blinded eyes no longer look merely from afar
and from the outside upon your unapproachable brightness,
and much more when you yourself, O Incomprehensible One,
have become through love the inmost center of my life,
then I can bury myself entirely in you, O mysterious God,
and with myself all my questions.

- Karl Rahner, SJ
(emphasis added)

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As you can tell, this is going to be my faith blog. :)