Who could've imagined...

Who could've imagined that suffering the lot of a thief and dying the scandalous death on the cross was a way to life and victory. The disciples thought it was defeat. They thought it was failure. They thought it was over, so they ran away. They hid themselves.

But somehow Mary knew better. Maybe not clearly. Maybe not totally. But she knew that there was something more. So, she stayed. She stood at the foot of the cross.

And she was right. What we could not have imagined happened: there was new life on the cross, there was victory in suffering.

God's ways are different. He will always be mystery.

Our vocation is communion.

On the day of Pentecost the Church received the gift of language – a language that communicated beyond diversity, a language that broke down barriers, a language that united minds and hearts in the Lord.

As a parish that professes intimacy with Mary, the spouse of the Spirit and a witness of Pentecost, our vocation is communion. From Xavierville to Daang Tubo, from Varsity Hills to Park 7, we are called to be of one heart, beating in service for everyone towards peace and justice.

From the high rise condominiums to Rona’s Garden, from Meralco-Jocson to Marytown and Escaler, we are called to be of one spirit, walking together, proclaiming with joy the gospel of Jesus Christ.

From the busy streets of Katipunan to the solitude of religious convents, from the educational institutions to the formation houses, we are called to be of one mind, attuned to the mind of Christ, whose food is to do the will of the Father.

Different we may be, our vocation is one. Our vocation is communion.

Malas o Suwerte?

"Hangga't hindi nahuhulog sa lupa ang butil ng trigo at mamatay, mananatili itong nag-iisa. Ngunit kung ito'y mamatay, mamumunga ito nang sagana."

Merong isang magsasaka na may isang anak at isang alagang kabayo. Isang araw, nakawala ang kabayo at nawala. Sabi ng kapitbahay, "Ang malas naman!" Sagot ng magsasaka, "Malas nga ba?"

Kinabukasan bumalik ang kabayo na may kasamang lima pang kabayo. Sabi ng kapitbahay, "Ang suwerte naman!" Sagot ng magsasaka, "Suwerte nga ba?"

Agad-agad sinakyan ng anak ang isang bagong kabayo. Sa kasamaang palad, nahulog ang anak at nabalian ng binti. Sabi ng kapitbahay, "Ang malas naman!" Sagot ng magsasaka, "Malas nga ba?"

Makalipas ang ilang araw, dumating ang mga sundalo. Naghahanap ng mga puedeng kunin para sa digmaan. Dahil nabalian ang anak ng magsasaka, hindi siya nakuhang sumabak sa digmaan.

Malas? Suwerte? Ano nga ba?

Kung babalikan natin ang mga karanasan nating itinuturing na kamalasan, makikita nating kahit masalimuot may biyaya namang idinudulot, kahit hirap ang dala may mabuti namang bunga. (Kuwento't aral na isina-Pilipino mula sa aklat ni Margaret Silf, The Other Side of Chaos)

God's Presence Transforms Us

Homily on the occasion of the Solemnity of Saint Joseph, Husband of Mary and the 5th Anniversary of the Priestly Ordination of Rev. Fr. Jojo Monis at the Our Lady of Pentecost Parish, March 19, 2012.

In the gospel today, Joseph is described as righteous, which for the Jews technically means, one who adheres to the law, one who lives his life according to the prescriptions of the Law of Moses. That is why when Joseph came to know that Mary was with child and not of him, the gospel tells us that he decided to divorce her. Why? Because in such a situation, it was the just thing to do, it was the right thing to do according to the law. But before doing so, Joseph had a vision – an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream explaining the situation of Mary. This vision transformed Joseph. He did not proceed to divorce Mary. He took her as his wife. He took her into his home. From then on, Joseph was regarded as righteous not only because he adhered to the law but more importantly because he adhered to the Lord, the giver of the Law.

The story of Joseph is a witness to the transforming grace of God. The presence of God does not only inspire us, or strengthen us, or console us. More importantly, the presence of God transforms us. He transforms us into willing agents of his mysterious plan. He transforms us into obliging bearers of faith, hope and love.

Fr. Jojo, during our ordination, God transformed us. God transformed the very essence of our identity; that in every fiber of our being we have become God’s minister. Our every thought, our every action, our every word, our hands, our feet, our heart, they were all made into an unworthy vessel of God’s presence, dedicated to the service of God and his people. If God was able to transform us then, he can transform us now.

Fr. Jojo, your situation now may not be ideal – from being a parish priest to becoming an assistant parish priest; it may not be what you expected or what you have planned for yourself (I may not be the parish priest you would have wished I would be), but we trust in the transforming love of God. Remember, in Calvary, God transformed what was a sign of scandal and punishment into a powerful sign of hope and victory. This may seem incredible but in Calvary, God transformed the cross.

Fr. Jojo, five years ago you promised, among other things, “to maintain and deepen a spirit of prayer.” Renew your commitment to prayer for only in the intimacy of deep and personal prayer life can we remain confident in the face of the mysterious transforming presence of God.

St. Joseph, pray for us and for all priests. Amen.

Coming to Church

Why do we go to the marketplace?

Business people and vendors go there to sell, to gain profit, to earn. Buyers go there get what they want or what they need. Basically, we go there to have something for ourselves.

Oftentimes, this disposition we bring with us to Church. We come to church asking ourselves what are we to gain by going there; what are we going to have in return. We come to church and wonder if what we want will be given. We come to church because we want to have.

If this is the only motivation we have in coming to church, then, we make the church a marketplace.

Even without the animals being sold; even without money changers, if the only motivation we can find in our hearts every time we go to church is to get, to receive, to gain, or to have, then, we make the church a marketplace.

And the exhortation of Jesus in the Gospel today is clear: Stop making my Father’s house into a marketplace. Stop going to church thinking only of yourselves. Stop going to church thinking only what you will get in return. How about coming to church in gratitude? In thanksgiving? Thanking the Lord for his blessings and graces, for his faithfulness, for his mercy, for family and friends, for challenges and trials that make us strong. How about coming to church ready to offer ourselves to God? Ready to offer our time, our talent, our treasure.

It is not bad to ask God what we want or what we need. But a true Christian does not end there. Or better yet, a true Christian does not start there. A true Christian starts with gratitude and the generosity before the Lord.

We do not come to church because we need something from God. We come to church because we need God, for He provides for our needs.

We do not come to church because we want something from the Lord. We come to church because we want the Lord, because in Him, there is nothing we shall want.

We do not come to church to have something from God. We come to church to be with God, for to be with Him is have everything.

We ask the Lord to grant us a heart full of gratitude and generosity. Because when we enter the church with gratitude and generosity first and foremost, then, we enter, not a marketplace, but the Father’s house.

INCENSE by Fr. Romano Guardini

"AND I saw an angel come and stand before the altar, having a  golden censer; and there was given to him much incense, and the  smoke of the incense of the prayers of the saints ascended up  before God from the hand of the angel." So writes Saint John in  the mysterious book of the Apocalypse.  The offering of an incense is a generous and beautiful rite. The  bright grains of incense are laid upon the red-hot charcoal, the  censer is swung, and the fragrant smoke rises in clouds. In the  rhythm and the sweetness there is a musical quality; and like  music also is the entire lack of practical utility: it is a  prodigal waste of precious material. It is a pouring out of  unwithholding love.  

"When the Lord was at supper Mary brought the spikenard of great  price and poured it over his feet and wiped them with her hair,  and the house was filled with the odor of the ointment." Narrower  spirits objected. "Whereto this waste?" But the Son of God has  spoken, "Let her alone. She hath done it against my burial."  Mary's anointing was a mystery of death and love and the sweet  savour of sacrifice.  The offering of incense is like Mary's anointing at Bethany. It  is as free and objectless as beauty. It burns and is consumed  like love that lasts through death. 

And the arid soul still takes  his stand and asks the same question: What is the good of it?  It is the offering of a sweet savour which Scripture itself tells  us is the prayers of the Saints. Incense is the symbol of prayer.  Like pure prayer it has in view no object of its own; it asks  nothing for itself. It rises like the Gloria at the end of a  psalm in adoration and thanksgiving to God for his great glory.  It is true that symbolism of this sort may lead to mere  aestheticism. There are imaginations in which the fragrant clouds  of incense induce a spurious religiosity; and, in such instances,  when it does so, the Christian conscience does right to protest  that prayer should be made in spirit and in truth. But though  prayer is a plain, straight-forward business, it is not the so- much-for-so-muchness which the niggardly imagination and  fleshless heart of the religious Philistine would make of it. The  same spirit persists that produced the objection of Judas of  Kerioth. Prayer is not to be measured by its bargaining power; it  is not a matter of bourgeous common sense.  Minds of this order know nothing of that magnanimous prayer that  seeks only to give. Prayer is a profound act of worship, that  asks neither why nor wherefore. It rises like beauty, like  sweetness, like love. The more there is in it of love, the more  of sacrifice. And when the fire has wholly consumed the  sacrifice, a sweet savour ascends.   

Fr. Romano Guardini (17 February 1885, Verona – 1 October 1968, Munich)

KNEELING by R. Guardini

WHEN a man feels proud of himself, he stands erect, draws himself  to his full height, throws back his head and shoulders and says  with every part of his body, I am bigger and more important than  you. But when he is humble he feels his littleness, and lowers  his head and shrinks into himself. He abases himself. And the  greater the presence in which he stands the more deeply he abases  himself; the smaller he becomes in his own eyes.  But when does our littleness so come home to us as when we stand  in God's presence? He is the great God, who is today and  yesterday, whose years are hundreds and thousands, who fills the  place where we are, the city, the wide world, the measureless  space of the starry sky, in whose eyes the universe is less than  a particle of dust, all-holy, all-pure, all-righteous, infinitely  high. He is so great, I so small, so small that beside him I seem  hardly to exist, so wanting am I in worth and substance. 

One has  no need to be told that God's presence is not the place in which  to stand on one's dignity. To appear less presumptuous, to be as  little and low as we feel, we sink to our knees and thus  sacrifice half our height; and to satisfy our hearts still  further we bow down our heads, and our diminished stature speaks  to God and says, Thou art the great God; I am nothing.   

Therefore let not the bending of our knees be a hurried gesture,  an empty form. Put meaning into it. To kneel, in the soul's  intention, is to bow down before God in deepest reverence.  On entering a church, or in passing before the altar, kneel down  all the way without haste or hurry, putting your heart into what  you do, and let your whole attitude say, Thou art the great God.  It is an act of humility, an act of truth, and everytime you  kneel it will do your soul good.   

Clarifications on Some Adjustments on the Celebration of the Mass in OLPP

If you go to mass at Pentecost you might have observed that the parish has introduced some adjustments in the way we celebrate the mass, particularly the following:

1.     the beginning of the mass (from the sign of the cross up to the opening prayer) is done at the presider’s chair (not at the altar table as was previously done);

2.     the priest may opt to spend some time of silence immediately after the homily before the prayers of the faithful (on weekdays) or before the profession of faith (on Sundays);

3.     the Prayers of the Faithful (also known as General Intercessions) is introduced and concluded by the priest from the presider’s chair;

4.     the rites after communion (which consists of Post-Communion Prayer and Concluding Rite) are done at the presider’s chair (and not at the altar table as was previously done).

Although these adjustments concern mainly the mass presiders, a brief explanation about them would help for better appreciation.

The document that guides us in every aspect of our celebration of the mass (similar to a manual if we can call it that) is the “General Instruction on the Roman Missal,” simply referred to as GIRM (used here is the 2002 edition).

In paragraph 50, referring to the beginning of the mass, GIRM states that “when the entrance chant is concluded, the priests stands at the chair and, together with the whole assembly, makes the sign of the cross.” Thus, the proper place to begin the mass is at the presider’s chair. But leeway is generally given to masses celebrated outside the parish church (e.g. in offices, in schools, in funeral parlors, in small chapels, etc.). The same can be said regarding the conclusion of the mass.

By reserving the use of the altar exclusively for the Liturgy of the Eucharist (and not for the Introductory and Concluding rites), we proclaim the centrality of the table of the Lord “on which the Sacrifice of the Cross is made present” (GIRM 296). By tradition, the altar should be made of stone (GIRM 301), which clearly signifies Jesus Christ, the living stone (Eph 2:20).

Talking about the General Intercessions (or the Prayers of the Faithful) GIRM 71 states, “It is for the priest celebrant to direct this prayer from the chair. He himself begins it with a brief introduction, by which he invites the faithful to pray. He also concludes it with a prayer.”

What does the chair signify? GIRM 310 explains that “the chair of the priest celebrant must signify his office of presiding over the gathering and of directing the prayer.”  Thus, what can be a more eloquent manifestation of this fact than by beginning and concluding the mass, where all the faithful is gathered in prayer, at the chair.

In paragraph 56, GIRM asserts that during the liturgy of the word, “it is also appropriate to include brief periods of silence, accommodated to the assembly gathered together, in which, by the encouragement of the Holy Spirit, the word of God may be grasped by the heart and a response may be prepared through prayer.” Thus, by spending some time for silence immediately after the homily we allow the Holy Spirit to inspire in us prayer, deeper understanding of the Word, and appropriate Christian action.

I pray that these adjustments, however little they may be, may contribute greatly to the solemnity and meaningfulness of the Eucharistic celebrations in our parish.

Fr. Dennis S. Soriano

The great reason for this transfiguration was to remove the scandal of the cross from the hearts of his disciples, and to prevent the humiliation of his voluntary suffering from disturbing the faith of those who had witnessed the surpassing glory that lay concealed. (Pope Leo the Great)

We trust in the Lord.

2nd Sunday of Lent

As a priest, many people come to us seeking answers to their questions.

Questions that are difficult to answer.

A mother came to me once and said,

Father, I loved my husband and my children with all my heart.

Ibinigay ko naman lahat para sa kanila.

Why is it that after all the things I did,

my husband still left me for another woman?

A young man came to me and said,

Father, all my life, I have never given trouble to my parents.

Mabait naman ako. Hindi naman ako masamang tao. Masipag naman ako.

I have been working hard. Why am I not getting the break that I want?

A father once approached me and said,

Father, my wife and I did all we could to give our child a good education.

Hindi kami nagkulang sa patuturo, sa pagpapaalala, sa pangangaral.

Why is his life a mess now?

It seems we are losing him. Why?

Difficult questions.

And we are not alone in asking these questions.

Abraham, in the first reading today, I’m sure asked the same difficult questions.

Why would God ask that I sacrifice Isaac, my only son, his gift to me? Why?

The disciples of Jesus could have asked the same questions on Calvary.

If Jesus is the Messiah, the savior, why is he crucified on the cross?

If his mission is God-sent why does it seem that he is a failure?

We all have our questions in life.

And the gospel today does not give us a clear answer.

What the Lord gives us is an invitation.

“This is my beloved son, listen to him.”

Open your heart to Jesus.

Believe in him.

Trust him.

Trust in the Lord.

Trust in his love.

St. Paul in the second reading reminds us that

If God can give up his only begotten Son for us

Will He not give everything else to us.

Kung hindi ipinagkait ng Diyos ang kanyang anak sa atin

Ipagkakait ba nang Diyos ang iba pang makabubuti sa aitn.

God is trustworthy.

We may not fully understand how.

We may not find all the answers to our questions.

But we listen to the Lord.

We open our hearts to him.

We trust in him.