8 September, Feast of the Birthday of the Blessed Virgin Mary -- I am ten years in the priesthood. Going back to the decade that has passed, I came up with a list of simple lessons I realized in the past years. Actually there are more lessons that I can think of but I share with you ten lessons in gratitude for the ten wonderful years.
1. This is not home.
Like all of us, I am a pilgrim in this world, a visitor, passing through, never a permanent settler. This is true in two levels. First, as a diocesan priest of Cubao, all assignments I have and will have, are subject to term limits. I will always be reassigned. There will always be new assignments. There will always be a new mission, a new work, new people to meet. Second, in a more profound way like anyone else, I will face the reality of death (a daily dose of metformin never fails to remind me of this hehe). This is not permanent home for me. Home is where the Father is. So, a certain degree of detachment always works.
2. This is not my work.
God called me to be his servant, to be his priest. It is His will that I enter the seminary in high school (the Our Lady of Guadalupe Minor Seminary in Makati), that I attend Philosophy in San Carlos Seminary (and not pursue my plans to take up Political Science in UP), to finish in the Graduate School of Theology, be ordained as deacon and then as priest. God anointed me to build up his Church, to serve his people, to celebrate his sacraments, to take care of his flock, to bless his children. This is God's work. This is not my work. So, God, not I, will bring this work to fulfillment.
3. The cross is not for bad people.
Why do bad things happen to good people? This is the perennial question. Indeed, a very difficult question to answer. But eventually we begin to understand that what makes us good is not what happens to us but how we deal with what happens to us. By the life-giving love of Jesus, God has transformed the cross from being an implement of shame and punishment to becoming a mysterious instrument of grace and life. God can always write straight with our crooked ways. Nobody wants the cross, but a true Christian is not afraid of it.
4. To be broken is to be whole.
This is the lesson from the Eucharist – the bread of life, broken and shared. The mystery of sharing is that we become whole; we become who we are according to the plan of God when we give ourselves. In giving we let go, we sacrifice, we expose ourselves to rejection, we are broken, yet, mysteriously we find joy, we become complete. The life of a priest is a life of giving, sharing, offering, caring. Without being broken, no one can truly give; no one can truly be whole.
5. Silence speaks.
Silence seemed to have no place in the modern world. It’s a rare commodity if not non-existent at all. Time spent in silence is regarded as time wasted, useless and meaningless. For some, keeping quiet is a trait of the coward, the soft and the weak. But genuine communication only happens in silence. Real understanding, sincere dialogue and heartfelt listening are realized only in silence. In the midst of countless and oftentimes conflicting voices that grab our attention, silence makes us discern well, prioritize right and decide wisely. Silence makes life more bearable. Silence makes us sane.
6. Prayer is life.
To begin to neglect prayer is to begin dying inside . It’s a lack that will eat us up from the inside – whole and okey outside but rotting and decomposing inside. Without prayer, one becomes empty, hollow, lifeless. Prayer is non-negotiable.
7. Alone but not lonely.
I am not married. I have no wife. I have no one beside me in bed – I had no one and will never have one. I have no children. When I became I priest I got officially separated from my family. I am alone. But I am not lonely. I have the joy of fulfilling what God wants for me. I have the warmth of the community entrusted to me. I have the mission of my ministry. I have the love of family and friends. I have the embrace of the Eucharist, the consolation of confession and the solace of prayer, solitude and silence. I am alone and will always be, but I am not lonely.
8. “Auto” does not always work.
One and a half years ago I got hold of a SLR and never let go of it. I got hooked in photography. The excitement of using a SLR is in going manual mode (as against Auto mode). When what is usual does not work then, getting the image you want is in the adjustment of the settings. “Auto” works but when it does not one adjusts until one finds what works. Rigidity can never go manual; flexibility does the job.
9. It’s the “indian” not the “pana.”
This is the first tip that stuck with me when I got hooked in photography. It’s not the kind or the brand of camera (the latest model, the complexity of settings, the simplicity of point and shoot) that produces great images, it’s the person who holds it. Whatever camera you have it is the person who looks at the world with the heart, who perceives beyond what the eyes cans see, who makes choices about composition and perspective, and who eventually decides to click. Persons are primary. Persons are at the top of the list. Persons always take precedence. Gadgets can never replace a human heart.
10. Everything attainable is insufficient.
This statement is from the book of Fr. Ron Rolheiser, OMI entitled The Infinite Horizon. A chapter in that book he entitled The Insufficiency of Anything Attainable. Looking back at the past ten years, I can enumerate many achievements and milestones in my ministry. I can think of many attainments and successes (Yabang!). But in reality these are all insufficient. There will always be a part of me that remain open-ended, unfulfilled, unconsummated. There remain in me a longing for more, a desire for something greater, a yearning for the infinite. The symphony will always be unfinished, for this is the reality of the human condition: anything attainable is insufficient. Ultimately only God is sufficient. Only God fills our deepest longing, our yearning for the infinite. Only God ends our seemingly endless desires, for our hearts were made for the transcendent, for the “wholly other.” Our hearts were made for the eternal. There will be more achievements ahead. There will be more successes (I hope), but they will only lead us to wanting for more. Only God makes us content, for only Him is sufficient.
