THE SWORD, THE STAR, AND THE SEAL OF ST. IGNATIUS

Fr. Karel San Juan, SJ

Ignatius High School July 2010

Today, as we celebrate the feast of our founder, our patron saint, the father of Jesuits and thus the father of all Ateneans, St. Ignatius of Loyola, let us focus on three things that I think defined who he was, and that could define who he can be for us today. Three things: the sword of Ignatius, the star of Ignatius, and the seal of Ignatius.

First the sword of St. Ignatius. One of the most popular images of Ignatius, as we know, is his offering of his sword to the Virgin of Montserrat. The sword meant a lot to him. It defined who he was: a soldier missioned to protect his king, a soldier who will fight battles for the Crown, a soldier who will give his life for the Spanish kingdom of his time. The sword represented the life he has been living as a young man, filled with vanity and ambition, consumed with pride and personal glory, prestige and power. Yet as we know from the story of Ignatius, after his conversion in Loyola he decided to leave this life behind and follow God wherever God may be calling him. This meant saying goodbye to his being a soldier. It meant giving away his expensive clothes, and in its place, wearing a poor man’s robe. It meant surrendering his sword, during a whole night vigil or prayer, kneeling in front of the Black Madonna in the Chapel of Montserrat in Spain. In doing so he gave his life – single-heartedly – to God, and to God alone. And almost like saying, I am yours, it is up to you, take me, and lead me where you want me to go. He knew, he was certain, that he was being called to something greater.

When we see the sword of Ignatius, when we think about it, perhaps we can also think about our own swords, the swords of our own personal lives. What are the things that we have that define who we are, our passions, things that we can, yes, give up, offer to God, in place for something greater, something better, something more. Could our swords be our material things, the stuff that we tend to accumulate and are in excess of, like perhaps cellphones and computers, games and gadgets, clothes and clutter. Such that if we let go of them, we simplify our lives, and when we simplify our lives, we become closer to God. Or perhaps, could our swords be those that are great about our selves, like talents and gifts, like things we are good at, academics, sports, music, making friends, being good leaders, and being good followers too, and how about our precious time and energy – things valuable to us, which we can offer to God, so that God can use them toward something greater. Something greater like using our talents and gifts for others, for service of the poor. Remember that God still used the soldier in Ignatius, and called him to fight not anymore for the human king, but for Christ the King, for God’s kingdom, over the forces of evil in the world. In your lives, dear students, what do you think is your sword? What is your passion? What can you offer to God? What can you sacrifice to God so He can transform it, use it, for something greater, something for the betterment of others, for the betterment of the world. What is the sword that you can offer and surrender?

Second, the star of Ignatius. Ignatius was a busy man. His typical day was devoted to so many things: listening and talking to people, helping the poor and the hungry, raising funds, getting the support of the rich and powerful men and women, writing letters to the first Jesuits, to Popes, bishops, kings, and queens. He must have been very tired at the end of each day. At nighttime, Ignatius would stop, go out to the veranda of his room, and look up to the heavens, and gaze at the stars. Ignatius was a star-gazer. Star-gazing kept him quiet. It kept quiet his mind, his heart, his soul, after a tiring, noisy and busy day. More than this, star-gazing gave Ignatius some insight and perspective. It made him see that he is part of something infinitely bigger and greater. When he gazes at the stars, the infinite horizon, he realizes how small we are in the vast expanse of the universe. And this renders him silent. He is awed. He is humbled. It made him see that there is a greater power to all the things of the world. It made him see God, the greater power, loving and caring for us, small creatures of this planet. It made him feel grateful that he is still alive, kept alive and happy by God.

When we see the star of Ignatius, when we think of it, can we also think of our own stars. What are the things in our lives that keep us quiet, reflective, silent, prayerful? Perhaps, our teachers, the Jesuits, the required prayer periods, the required masses like this one? I hope not only these. I hope other things like a time we set aside for ourselves, not being forced to do so, alone, silent, perhaps in our rooms, or in any quiet places, nothing and no one to disturb us, where we can reflect, where we can pray. Jesuits call this contemplation. It focuses our mind, our heart, our soul. It connects us to our God, and like Ignatius, it gives us light, perspective, happiness, in the middle of our very busy schedules, in the middle of the so many things we do in our lives.

Can our friends be our stars? Like the friends in Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings movies. Remember Toy Story? How Andy realized toward the end of the movie that his old toys, Woody, Buzz Lightyear, Jesse, Rex, Slinky Dog, Mr and Mrs Potato Head, are really his friends, friends who have taught him the value of love, loyalty, even sacrifice. In the same way, our dear parents, our family, our teachers, our classmates, our administrators – they can be our stars, giving us light amid darkness and confusion, joy amid our sadness, helping us pray. They are stars who make us choose life, as we have heard in the second reading a while ago. Do we feel grateful for these stars in our lives? Have we thanked them in one way or the other?

And now, the third, the seal of St. Ignatius. In the time of Ignatius, seals were very important. All noble families, like Ignatius’ own, the Loyolas, have their own emblems or seals. The Loyolas have the famous seal of two wolves feeding on a pot of food, which showed abundance, sharing, and generosity, there was enough food to share, even to the wolves. When Ignatius became the head, or the General of the Society of Jesus, the Jesuits, he had to write thousands of letters – more than 7000 letters actually – to Jesuits and other people. He used a symbol to seal and stamp with wax the letters he sent all over the world. His seal bears the first three letters of the name of Jesus, IHS. It became the seal of the Society of Jesus.

When we look at the seal of Ignatius and the Jesuits, think about and reflect on your own seal. If you were to draw, or create a seal for yourself, how will it look like. What images will it contain? Will it have animals like wolves? Or initials and symbols? I am sure that many of you have made such visual representations of yourselves. In our modern-day pop technological jargon, we call them Avatars, like those we use for yahoo emails. In Facebook we can choose any type of profile picture, and represent ourselves with cartoons, photos, notes, links, and others. In the dazzling world of computer games like the amazingly phenomenal DOTA or Defense of the Ancients, we can choose our favorite heroes – Zeus, Naix, or Lina Inverse from all of 97 heroes, sentinels or scourge, level-up in experience, strength, agility, intelligence, craft our game plan, strategies and tactics, or in Guitar Hero, select and synchronize our favorite rhythms, songs and artists. We can construct our own personal websites, webspaces, chatrooms, games, rules, and others. The possibilities – creative and exciting – are endless in terms of defining ourselves today, introducing, presenting ourselves to the big world. And yet, the question remains: who are we, who shall we be, who do we want to be. In the Gospel, Jesus asks his disciples: who do people say that I am? The question of identity confronts us. Are we real or virtual? Actual or imagined? Are we portraying our selves as we are now, or as we wish to be in the future? Who do you say you are? Who do people say you are?

In the case of Ignatius, he chose his identity to be simple, uncomplicated, yet deep and profound. He chose his identity, his avatar, his hero, to be near, to be close, to the identity of Jesus. Jesus, simply, profoundly Jesus. The first Jesuits named their group in honor of Jesus, the Compaña de Jesus. They wanted themselves, their identities to be near that of Jesus, so that they will not wander far and forget who they are. Perhaps whenever we see the seal of Ignatius and the Jesuits, we can reflect on our own personal seals, symbols, images, our heroes, our profiles, and our avatars. Do we identify with Jesus as Ignatius did? Or do we identify with someone else, with something else?

And so, dear students, dear faculty and staff, in this feast of our founder, St. Ignatius, let us reflect on his legacy and his spirit, a legacy and spirit that remains alive today, almost five centuries after. His sword, his star, his seal. Our own swords, stars, and seals. His spirit and tradition. Alive and burning in our community here in Ateneo. Alive and burning in our hearts.

St. Ignatius of Loyola, pray for us.

ATENEO HIGH SCHOOL

ST. IGNATIUS FEAST DAY MASS

29 July 2010

Of Success and Magis

by Sch. Ambrosio F. Flores, SJ

In honor of St. Satnislaus Kostka, the Ateneo de Manila High School Community gathered at the HS Covered Courts last 13 November 2009. Scholastic Ambrosio Flores, SJ, Jesuit Regent, delivered this shared Homily.

What do you want to be when you grow up?

I am certain that all of us here right now have been asked this question when we were kids. And I surmise that you would have rattled off standard answers like becoming a doctor, lawyer, engineer or even the president of the Philippines! What was intriguing for me then was that it was not enough for us to say, I want to be a doctor. We would often append the adjective successful like: I want to be a successful doctor, a successful lawyer, a successful engineer. Now that I am an adult, I ask myself why it was necessary to append the word successful. What does it mean to be successful? Today’s mass media dictate that to be successful means to have not just more but MOST: having the most expensive car, having the most extravagant house, having the most beautiful girlfriend, having the most number of awards, having the most stable and financially rewarding career, having the most trendy gadgets.

Today, let me propose an alternative definition. I learned this definition from a friend that became my personal definition of success. It eventually led me to become a companion of Jesus, a Jesuit. He said, success is becoming what you are designed to be.

Let me illustrate it. Success is becoming what you are designed to be. This microphone is only successful when it can amplify my voice across the covered courts. The Monobloc chair you are sitting on is only successful as a chair if it is used for sitting. That Clavinova piano is only successful when it can produce music as pianos should. Things are successful when they are used according to their designer’s intended plan.

Pushing it even further, we are successful when we become who we are designed to be. No, it is not just becoming what we said we wanted to be when we were kids. Well, it is a possibility but more primordial than achieving our childhood dream is becoming who we are called to be. This is also the theme of our first reading today. Be zealous, brethren to confirm your call and election. We can only be successful when we follow our inherent call as unique human beings, when we become who God designed us to be.

Since this call of being successful in life is not something that happens overnight but is a result of the many little decisions we make daily, let us narrow it down to our day to day activities. Here in the Ateneo, we are always pushed to succeed, to excel, to exhibit magis, to do more and be more! This is evidently translated as class banners, honor cards, Kostka awards and Eagle and staff awards for excellence. In some respect, this is not really different from the world’s demand of having the most, of being the most. Yet, there is something much deeper to magis than this. This is what I want to focus on.

We always aspire for the much coveted banners. There is nothing wrong with that. However, if we aspire for the banner even at the expense of the relationships in class, I believe something is amiss. If in the process of getting the banner, we become scheming tacticians and deceivers then something is wrong. What happens to you in the process of getting banners is much more important than the banners themselves. Success is becoming who our Creator designed you to be.

There is nothing wrong with making it to the honors list. In fact it is very commendable and edifying. However, if we got it through cheating, then something is really, really wrong. If we made it to the top of our class because we never helped a classmate since he is a potential competition, then you never deserved the academic honors from the Ateneo after all. What is more important is what happens to you as you proverbially burn the midnight candle, as you struggle to comprehend logarithmic functions, decipher quantum numbers or help your classmates understand the history of western Asia. Success is becoming who our Creator designed you to be.

There is nothing wrong with being a Kostka awardee. You should be really proud of it. However, if you got it by behaving and cooperating merely because the teachers are around, then the award is meaningless. If you bully your classmates, commit all possible violations that the prefects could ever imagine when no one is looking and then boast that you have outwitted the prefects, then you just cheapened the Kostka award. What is more important is what happens to you when you try to discipline yourself in class in order to be attentive, when you follow rules even when no teacher is looking, when you actively participate in class. Success is becoming who your Creator designed you to be.

There is nothing wrong with being given the Eagle and staff excellence awards. Ateneo expects excellence from us. However, if in the process of becoming excellent formators, we pull down our colleagues, damage our healthy working relationship or smear our co-workers reputation just to put ourselves in good light, then something is really, really wrong. Our work output, no matter how excellent it is, becomes futile if in the process we have become monsters out to destroy each other’s integrity and credibility. Success is becoming who our Creator designed us to be.

Now, you might ask me: how do we know our call? How do we know who we are designed to be? We have to go back to our roots, to our fundamental identity in order to know our call. This reminds me of a scene in the movie, The Lion King. After the tragic death of Simba’s father, Scar drove the young Simba away. He grew up to become a carefree lion in the jungle, away from his kingdom. One night, he was visited by the spirit of his father. Let us watch this brief video clip:

Simba: Father?
Mufasa’s spirit: Simba, you have forgotten me.
Simba: No. How could I?
Mufasa’s spirit: You have forgotten who you are and so have forgotten me. Look inside yourself,
Simba. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the
Circle of Life.
Simba: How can I go back? I'm not who I used to be.
Mufasa: Remember who you are. You are my
son, and the one true king.



Look inside yourself. You are more than what you have become. You must take your place in the Circle of Life. Remember who you are. You are my son... Remember…remember….

The gospel today echoes that same line when Mary and Joseph, after finding Jesus with the elders, confronted him. And Jesus replied: “Why were you searching for me? Didn’t you know that I had to be in my Father’s house?” Jesus knew who he was and to whom he rightfully belonged. No, not even tradition and filial love could deter him. He had to be where his Father wanted him to be.

And so, I pose that same question to you my friends: Who are you? Whose are you? When we know deep inside ourselves who we are and are deeply rooted in it, no amount of mass media enticements of having the most can ever enslave us or stop us from pursuing what really matters.

This was the experience of St. Stanislaus when he decided to leave family and country and walked miles just to join the Society of Jesus. No amount of anger from his father or threat from his brother or the unpredictability of the weather or the risk of crossing countries by foot could stop him from what he believed was his call, from becoming who God designed him to be.

It is in the same spirit that we, the AHS Jesuits will once more renovate our vows before God, with you as witnesses. It is our hope that in spite of our individual weaknesses and limitations and the many challenges we face and may continue to face, we may hold firm to God’s plan for us. We may always be reminded that our call is irrevocable. In spite of the lures of the world as we struggle for magis, we may be reminded of the perpetual vows we made years ago, and be strengthened in our commitment and zeal to confirm our call as companions of Christ, as men on mission, as Jesuits.

And it is in the same spirit that we, the AHS community are invited to ponder today: That in our pursuit for magis, may we not be carried away by the lures of the world to simply be the best, the brightest and the strongest. In our effort to aspire for more class banners, to make it to the honors’ list, to receive the Kostka award and the Eagle and staff excellence awards, may we always be rooted in our identity in God and in the process, be transformed into men and women that God has designed us to be. Whether or not we get the banners or the awards after the struggle, it will no longer matter as long as we know that in our struggle for magis we have gradually become the persons God, our Father and Creator designed us to be.

And so let me leave you with this question for reflection: In your search for the magis as student, teacher, staff, parent or administrator, what has become of thee, the person that God wanted you to be?

Homily for the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary

By Fr. James Gascon, SJ
Delivered
A story is told that in heaven, it was decided that every newly arrived soul should sing a song outside the gate. One’s song would determine whether he or she was worthy to enter the gate or not. Archangel Raphael posted this instruction at the entrance of Paradise.
It happened that the soul of a great patriot, who died fighting against a corrupt government, arrived in heaven. He stood outside its gates and read the instruction. The patriot took a deep breath and begun to sing…
“To dream the impossible dream;
To fight the unbeatable foe;
To bear with unbearable sorrow…”

After the song, the gate of heaven opened and the patriot entered Paradise. Then the gate was locked.

Then came a woman philanthropist. After reading the instructions, she began to sing…

“Climb every mountain, ford every stream,
follow every rainbow, ‘til you find your dream.
A dream that would need all the love you can give…

Again, after her song, the gate of heaven opened. Joyfully, the woman philanthropist entered Paradise and the gate was locked again.

Two souls, who were both hardened criminals on earth, arrived and read the instruction posted at the entrance. After reading it, both of them shook their heads in disappointment. “How are we to enter heaven?” the first criminal asked his companion. “While on earth, the only songs we sang were vulgar and obscene ones. Our songs would reflect our earthly life, heaven’s gate will surely not open for us!” And both of them went away heartbroken.

Then, a lady came. She was a simple mother. She read the instruction, not without much difficulty. She knew not many songs. There was only one she knew. And then she began singing…

“Ang puso ko’y nagpupuri, nagpupuri sa Panginoon.
Nagalak ang aking espiritu, sa ‘king taga-pagligtas.”

Sapagkat nilingap niya, kababaan ng kanyang alipin.
Mapalad ang pangalan ko sa lahat ng mga bansa.”

Once more, after her song, the gate of heaven opened. Gratefully, the Lady entered Paradise. But from then on the gate of heaven was never locked again. And since then, every soul was assured entrance into paradise in her stead. Thus, countless got the chance to enter the gate of Paradise despite their unworthiness. The Lady’s name was Mary.

Can you be an Atenean without a special devotion to Mary? Can you call yourself an Atenean without a rosary in your pocket? Can the days of October pass by without you proudly wearing the medal and blue ribbon on your chest? Can you end a game at the UAAP without singing a hymn to our Lady, win or lose? Here in the Ateneo our special devotion to Mary defines who we are. She is our model, our inspiration, and our mother.

In Mary we find a model. Holy Mother Church teaches us that Mary was the first Christian, the first follower of our Lord. She listened to him because she knew him. She followed him because she loved him. She served him because she believed in him. Mary showed us the way to know, to love and to serve Jesus, and thus she is our model. We only look up to her and we find Jesus her son.
Mary is also our inspiration. Despite her lowliness, she was able to do the will of God. By recognizing the power and compassion of the almighty, she was able to say her Fiat: Let it be done according to your will. From her lowliness she was exulted by God and prepared to be the mother of the Lord. We too can say yes to God if we take our inspiration in Mary. And our experience has shown us that like Mary, we can say yes to God if we recognize his compassion and care for us.
Finally, she is our mother. In the same way that she took care of her son, she takes care of us by interceding for us. How many times have we run to her when we were engulfed in fear and uncertainty? We have the boldness to approach her because we know that she is our mother. And as our mother, she will never refuse us. We are confident children of our Lady.
And today, our Lady’s birthday, we celebrate this Eucharist to honor her. We gather as a community to sing hymns for her, to pray together with her, to honor her as our patron and most of all to thank God for giving us Mary to be our mother. These are the reasons why on her birthday, we give thanks. Gratitude is our response. It is also our gift to her. We thank Mary for her life. We thank her for her openness and for her yes. We thank her for how she raised Jesus to be so full of compassion and a friend to sinners and the poor. We are grateful to her for after she entered the gate of heaven, it remained open welcoming everyone despite all unworthiness.
So today, Mother Mary, our inspiration and model, on your birthday, as sons and daughters of Ignatius, we pray his prayer: Dear Mary, place me with your Son. Let me know him, love him, follow him and serve him more closely. Stand guard over my heart and let the gift of peace remain there especially when the challenges of life confront me and uncertainty haunt me. And when my final hour comes, pray for me and be with me—now and forever. Amen. Hail Holy Mary, my Queen. Pray for us your children.

“Ang puso ko’y nagpupuri, nagpupuri sa Panginoon!

By Fr. James Gascon, SJ
President/CEO
Center for Family Ministries (CeFaM)

Delivered at the Ateneo de Manila High School Covered Courts
Septmeber 08, 2009

A story is told that in heaven, it was decided that every newly arrived soul should sing a song outside the gate. One’s song would determine whether he or she was worthy to enter the gate or not. Archangel Raphael posted this instruction at the entrance of Paradise.
It happened that the soul of a great patriot, who died fighting against a corrupt government, arrived in heaven. He stood outside its gates and read the instruction.

The patriot took a deep breath and begun to sing…

“To dream the impossible dream;
To fight the unbeatable foe;
To bear with unbearable sorrow…”

After the song, the gate of heaven opened and the patriot entered Paradise. Then the gate was locked.

Then came a woman philanthropist. After reading the instructions, she began to sing…

“Climb every mountain, ford every stream,
follow every rainbow, ‘til you find your dream.
A dream that would need all the love you can give…

Again, after her song, the gate of heaven opened. Joyfully, the woman philanthropist entered Paradise and the gate was locked again.

Two souls, who were both hardened criminals on earth, arrived and read the instruction posted at the entrance. After reading it, both of them shook their heads in disappointment. “How are we to enter heaven?” the first criminal asked his companion. “While on earth, the only songs we sang were vulgar and obscene ones. Our songs would reflect our earthly life, heaven’s gate will surely not open for us!” And both of them went away heartbroken.

Then, a lady came. She was a simple mother. She read the instruction, not without much difficulty. She knew not many songs. There was only one she knew. And then she began singing…

“Ang puso ko’y nagpupuri, nagpupuri sa Panginoon.
Nagalak ang aking espiritu, sa ‘king taga-pagligtas.”

Sapagkat nilingap niya, kababaan ng kanyang alipin.
Mapalad ang pangalan ko sa lahat ng mga bansa.”

Once more, after her song, the gate of heaven opened. Gratefully, the Lady entered Paradise. But from then on the gate of heaven was never locked again. And since then, every soul was assured entrance into paradise in her stead. Thus, countless got the chance to enter the gate of Paradise despite their unworthiness. The Lady’s name was Mary.

Can you be an Atenean without a special devotion to Mary? Can you call yourself an Atenean without a rosary in your pocket? Can the days of October pass by without you proudly wearing the medal and blue ribbon on your chest? Can you end a game at the UAAP without singing a hymn to our Lady, win or lose? Here in the Ateneo our special devotion to Mary defines who we are. She is our model, our inspiration, and our mother.

In Mary we find a model. Holy Mother Church teaches us that Mary was the first Christian, the first follower of our Lord. She listened to him because she knew him. She followed him because she loved him. She served him because she believed in him. Mary showed us the way to know, to love and to serve Jesus, and thus she is our model. We only look up to her and we find Jesus her son.
Mary is also our inspiration. Despite her lowliness, she was able to do the will of God. By recognizing the power and compassion of the almighty, she was able to say her Fiat: Let it be done according to your will. From her lowliness she was exulted by God and prepared to be the mother of the Lord. We too can say yes to God if we take our inspiration in Mary. And our experience has shown us that like Mary, we can say yes to God if we recognize his compassion and care for us.
Finally, she is our mother. In the same way that she took care of her son, she takes care of us by interceding for us. How many times have we run to her when we were engulfed in fear and uncertainty? We have the boldness to approach her because we know that she is our mother. And as our mother, she will never refuse us. We are confident children of our Lady.
And today, our Lady’s birthday, we celebrate this Eucharist to honor her. We gather as a community to sing hymns for her, to pray together with her, to honor her as our patron and most of all to thank God for giving us Mary to be our mother. These are the reasons why on her birthday, we give thanks. Gratitude is our response. It is also our gift to her. We thank Mary for her life. We thank her for her openness and for her yes. We thank her for how she raised Jesus to be so full of compassion and a friend to sinners and the poor. We are grateful to her for after she entered the gate of heaven, it remained open welcoming everyone despite all unworthiness.
So today, Mother Mary, our inspiration and model, on your birthday, as sons and daughters of Ignatius, we pray his prayer: Dear Mary, place me with your Son. Let me know him, love him, follow him and serve him more closely. Stand guard over my heart and let the gift of peace remain there especially when the challenges of life confront me and uncertainty haunt me. And when my final hour comes, pray for me and be with me—now and forever. Amen. Hail Holy Mary, my Queen. Pray for us your children.

Homilya Para sa Kapistahan ng Pag-aakyat Kay Maria Sa Langit

ni Padre Pat Falguera, SJ

Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya.
Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo.
Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat
at pinagpala rin naman ang iyong Anak na si Hesus.
Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos.
Ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan.
Ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay.
Amen.

Sa aking palagay, malamang ito ang isa sa mga unang panalangin itunuro sa atin ng ating mga magulang. Isang panalangin ipinasa sa ating mga lolo at lola, ng kanilang mga lola at lolo. Ilang beses ko na rin kasing nasaksihan ito sa parokya. Kung paano itinuturo ng isang ina o isang ama, ang panalanging ito sa kanyang anak. Bago umalis ng bahay at pumasok sa paaralan. Bago kumain ng hapunan matapos maglaro. Bago matulog matapos gawin ang assignment.

Malamang, unang nagisnan din natin ang panalanging ito mula sa mga madre at mga katekista. Sa unang pagtanggap natin ng mga sakramento ng simbahan. Sa binyag. Sa unang kumpisal. Sa ating first communion. At tila nga nakagisnan na rin natin ang panalanging ito sa iba’t ibang panahon ng ating simbahan. Tuwing Oktubre. Tuwing Pasko at Bagong Taon. Tuwing Biyernes Santo at Linggo ng Muling Pagkabuhay.

Madalas nga, hindi tayo malay na isinasambit na pala natin ang panalanging ito sa samu’t saring ritwal nating mga Pinoy. Bilang panghele sa anak. Habang nagbabantay sa ospital. Habang nakasakay sa FX papuntang opisina. Madalas, nananalangin tayo sa ating Mahal na Ina, kung may hinihiling tayo. Bago tayo mag abroad para magtrabaho ay dinadalaw natin siya sa Antipolo. Bago tayo mag job interview ay nagno-nobena tayo sa Baclaran. Bago tayo mag board exam ay dumadayo pa tayo sa Manaoag.

Napapansin ko nga, madalas may mga rosaryong nakatago sa ating mga bulsa. Lalo nga itong patagong nakalihim sa bulsa ng mga kalalakihan o lantaran na ring nakasabit sa mga motorbike. Ginagamit man natin itong agimat o panlaban sa masama. Ito ang ating dala dala, construction worker man tayo sa site o sales lady sa isang department store. At inilalabas mula sa taguan at idinadasal habang nakatirik ang dyip sa trapik. O di naman kaya’y kung tayo ay pauwi na, sakay ang MRT.

At madalas kung tayo nagkaka-krisis bilang pamilya o sambayanan, ito ang panalanging paulit ulit nating binabanggit. Nakakailang Aba Ginoong Maria kaya ang isang ina habang hinihintay ang results ng kanyang biopsy test? Nakakailang Aba Ginoong Maria kaya ang isang tatay habang isinusugod ang anak na naaksidente at duguan? At nakakailang Aba Ginong Maria kaya ang isang binata habang hinihintay nya ang sagot ng kasintahang nililgawan?

At kung titingnan natin ang kasaysayan ng ating bansa, ilang daang Aba Ginoong Maria kaya ang isinamo ng mga katipunero para makamit ang kalayaan? Ilang daang Aba Ginoong Maria kaya ang ipinalangin ng mga gerilya sa gitna ng digmaan? At ilang libong Aba Ginoong Maria kaya ang isinamo sa EDSA noong 1986 at 2001 sa gitna ng di katiyakan at pag-aalinlangan.

Kung ito ang panalanging ating unang natutunan, tila ito rin ang huling panalangin ating isinasambit sa bingit ng kamatayan. Magdadalawang linggo na noong ating nabalitaan kung paano yumao si Pangulong Cory Aquino. Sa ikalimang misterio ng hapis, huling huminga raw ang ating mahal na Pangulo. At sa mga sumunod na araw, ating nasaksihan kung paano inihatid ng panalanging ito si Tita Cory mula simbahan hanggang sa kanyang huling hantungan.

Bakit kaya malapit sa ating mga puso ang panalanging ito? Sa aking palagay, may tatlong dahilan kung bakit nakagisnan at nakaukit na sa ating mga puso ang panalangin ni Maria. Unang dahilan: dahil sa biyaya at pangako. Ikalawang dahilan: dahil sa galak at pasasalamat. At ikatlong dahilan: dahil sa pagsamo at pagapapaubaya.

Ang unang dahilan, dahil sa biyaya at pangako.

Sa unang pagbasa, narinig natin ang tila isang pangako: Isang babaeng malapit nang manganak ng isang sanggol na itinakdang maghahari sa lahat ng bansa. At sa ebanghelyong ating narinig, ipinamalas naman ang biyaya ng pagdalaw ni Maria sa kanyang pinsang si Isabel. At tila itong biyaya at pangako ay napaloob din sa panalangin para sa ating Mahal na Ina:

Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya.
Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo.

Madalas, kapag nagbitiw tayo ng salita na gagawin natin ang isang bagay, ito ay nagiging pangako. Ngunit madalas, mahirap isakatupuran ang isang pangakong binitiwan. Hindi na tayo lalayo pa para mamulat na napakadaling biguin ang mga pangako. Napakadaling ipangako ng kamara ang Comprehensive Agrarian Reform ngunit bakit hanggang ngayon napakahirap pa rin ipamigay ang lupa sa mga magsasaka ng Sumilao? Napakadaling ipangako ng isang pangulo na maganda ang larangan ng ekonomiya ngunit bakit hanggang ngayon hindi pa rin maayos ang mga tirahan ng mga maralita sa Payatas?

Ngunit sa kabila ng mga kabiguan na dulot ng mga pangakong hindi naisakatuparan, nariyan ang biyaya. Dito nag-iiba ang pangako ng Diyos at pangako ng tao. Kung sa tao, may hidwaan ang salita at gawa; sa Diyos, iisa lamang ang salita at ang gawa. Kung ganito nga ang pangako ng Diyos, bakit tila, walang nagiging epekto ang salita ng Diyos? Sa aking palagay, dito papasok ang biyaya. Ito ang biyayang madalaas ipinagkakaloob sa mga mahihirap. Kaya’t sa gitna ng kahirapan at pag-aalinlangan, hindi nating maiwasan manalangin sa ating Mahal na Ina. Na sa pangako ng sanggol sa kanyang sinapupunan, makamit din sana natin ang biyaya na dalawin nya tayo para magkaroon ng malalim na kahulugan ang ating mga buhay.

Ang pangalawang dahilan naman kung bakit malapit sa ating mga puso ang panalanging ito: dahil sa galak at pasasalamat.

Sa ikalawang pagbasa naman, narinig natin ang galak ni San Pablo sa pagpapahayag ng salita ng Diyos na may muling pagkabuhay sa bingit ng kamatayan. At sa ebanghelyong narinig natin, nasaksihan natin ang pasasalamat ni Maria pagkatapos mapuspos si Isabel ng Espiritu Santo. Itong galak at pasasalamat ay mababanaagan din natin sa ikalawang bahagi ng panalangin alay kay Maria:

Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat
at pinagpala rin naman ang iyong Anak na si Hesus.

May iba’t ibang larangan ng galak. May galak na katuwaan lamang ng barkada habang nag-iinuman. May galak na dulot ng pag-awit ng alma mater song pagkatapos ipanalo ang isang laro sa UAAP. At may galak na dama ng isang ina pagkaluwal ng kanyang sanggol. Ngunit sa aking palagay, ang pinakamalalim na galak ay yaong galak na may kalakip na kapayapaan. Isang galak na nakabalot sa katahimikan. At sa kabila ng galak na ito ay ang malalim na pasasalamat.

Naisip ko tuloy, ito ata ang dahilan kung bakit tayong mga Pinoy ay patuloy na nakakaraos sa gitna ng kahirapan at paghihikaos. Marami kasi tayong pwedeng pasalamatan. Sa gitna ng gulo sa larangan ng pultiko, nakakalimutan natin na napakaganda ng ating bayan. Masaksihan man natin ang paglubog ng araw sa Caramoan o Camiguin o di kaya’y ang bukang liwayway sa Sagada o Malaybalay. Sa di pagkakasundo ng muslim at kristiyano, nakakalimutan natin ang napakagandang kultura ng Penafrancia sa Bicol at ng Ramadan sa Zamboanga. Sa tingin ko, kung patuloy tayong makapagpasalamat matikman ang tamis ng mangga at malanghap ang amoy ng kabihasnan sa Bulacan, makakamit natin ang tahimik at malalim na kagalakan. Hindi ito naiiiba sa pagtuklas katulad ni San Pablo sa salita ng Diyos at ang pagpuspos ng Espiritu kay Isabel.

At ang huling dahilan kung bakit malapit sa ating mga puso ang panalanging ito, dahil sa pagsamo at pagpapaubaya.

Sa ebanghelyo narinig natin ang pagsamo ni Maria sa kanyang Panginoon: “Dinadakila ng aking kaluluwa ang Panginoon, at nagagalak ang aking tagapagligtas..” Ngunit kalakip nitong pagsamo ni Maria ang kanyang pagpapaubaya na maganap nawa sa kanya ang kalooban ng Diyos. Itong pagsamo at pagpapaubaya ang bumubuo ng huling bahagi ng pagsamo natin sa ating Mahal na Ina:

Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos.
Ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan.
Ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay.
Amen.

Ayon kay San Ignacio, ang mainam na pananaw sa biyaya ay ang pananaw ng isang pulubing nanlilimos ng biyaya. Tila ganito rin ang pagsamo. Pagsamo dahil hindi tayo karapat dapat. Pagsamo kahit tayo ay makasalanan. May iba’t ibang larangan din ng pagsamo. May pagsamo na galing sa isang bata na gustong makipaglaro sa kapitbahay. May pagsamo mula sa kasintahan na hwag muna ibaba ang telepono at ituloy ang kwentuhan. May pagsamo ng isang magulang gustong makapag aral sa Ateneo ang anak. Ngunit kung ang pagsamo ay walang kapalit na kawalan, tila sumasablay ito.

Kaya naman kalakip ng pagsamo ay ang pagpapaubaya na hindi nagiging pabaya. Katulad ng pagsamo ng isang inang nagdadalang tao at ipinapaubaya ang kalusugan ng magiging anak. Katulad ng pagsamo ng isang bilanggong wala namang kasalanan at ipinapaubaya ang kanyang kalayaan. Katulad ng pagsamo natin na ang darating na halalan ay magiging daan ng tunay na pagbabago. Ngunit kailangan nga tayong magpaubaya na kailangangan nating magkaisa at sama sama tayong lahat para buoin at hilumin an gating bayan. Kaya naman tila mahirap talaga magpaubaya. Ngunit may malalim na karunungan na dulot ng pagpapaubaya. At ito nga ang naging karanasan ng Ating Mahal na Ina. Dinakila siya dahil siya ay nagpaubaya. Sa kabila ng kanyang pagsamo na matupad ang pangarap ng Diyos sa tao, nagawa ni Mariang magpaubaya.

Sa tatlong dahilang ito ng biyaya at pangako, ng galak at pasasalamat, at ng pagsamo at pagpapaubaya, nawa’y unti unti tayong namumulat na ang panalangin ng Aba Ginoong Maria ay daan para makamit ang langit at makatawid sa buhay na walang hanggan.

Sa dakilang kapistahan ng Pag-akyat sa Langit sa Mahal na Birheng Maria, tila nababanaagan natin kung paano nakamit ni Maria ang kalangitan. Isang kalangitan na hindi lang natin maaakyat kapag tayo ay sumakabilang buhay na. Ngunit isang kalangitan na matutuklasan natin dito at matutuklasan natin ngayon. Isang mithiin ng kalagitan na ipinamamana sa atin ngayon ng ating Panginoon. At ang landas patungo dito ay nasa halimbawa ni Maria. Sapagkat ang pangako pala ay hahantong sa pasasalamat; at ang pasasalamat naman ay hahantong sa pagpapaubaya. Kalakip ng pagpapaubaya ay ang biyaya; Kalakip ng biyaya ang galak; at kalakakip ng galak ay ang pagsamo na may taglay na pangako.

At habang patuloy nating dinarasal ang Aba Ginoong Maria, mamumulat tayo na lalalim ang ating pananampalataya, pag-asa at pagmamahal. Sa gitna ng biyaya at pangako, namamayani pala ang pananampalataya. Sa gitna ng galak at pasasalamat, matatagpuan pala ang pag-asa. At sa gitna ng pagsamo at pagpapaubaya, magwawagi pala ang pagmamahal. Kaya naman, hanggang may isang batang nagdadasal ng Aba Ginoong Maria nang buong pananampalataya, malalampasan natin ang disyerto at makakamit natin ang lupang pangako. Naniniwala akong hanggang may isang binatang nakaluhod at nagdarasal ng Aba Ginoong Maria, may pag-asa pa rin ang ating bayan. At hanggang may isang lolo na nagdarasal ng Aba Ginoong Maria sa tabi ng kanyang irog, limampung taon na ang nakararaan, mamamayani pa rin ang pagmamahal natin sa kapuwa at sa bayan.

Kaya marahil sa kasaysayan ng ating mga pamilya at sa kasaysayan ng bayan, tugmang tugma ang panalanging ito. Sa panahon man ng kagipitan at di katiyakan, nariyan ang ating Mahal na Ina. Akmang akma ang panalanging ito, maging isa man tayong sundalo isinabak sa Mindanao, o isang pulis na gustong manatiling tapat kahit corrupt na ang hepe ng kanyang himpilan. Tugmang tugma ang panalanging ito, maging estudyante man tayo ng Ateneo, taas noong inaawit pa rin ito sa gitna ng pagkatalo o di kaya’y isang sastre sa Sapang Palay, tuwang tuwa na nakapasa ang kanyang anak sa UP. At masasamahan tayo ng panalanging ito sa gitna ng kadiliman at kahirapan. Sa simbahan na matatagpuan sa tagpi tagping barung barong sa Navotas na malapit nang ma-demolish. O di kaya’y sa mga nagsisilakihang mga simbahan sa Rome at Milan, punung puno ng ating mga kababayang sabik umuwi dahil malayo sa mga pinanggalingan. Mapapasaatin ang panalanging ito sa gitna ng paghahanap natin ng kasagutan sa napakasalimuot na suliranin ng ating bayan. Sa gitna ng mga tanong na tila walang kasagutan.

Batid kong lahat tayo dito ngayon ay mga ipinapanalanging mga biyaya at pangako. Batid kong lahat tayo dito ngayon ay may nais ipaabot na galak at pasasalamat. At batid kong lahat tayo dito ngayon ay may itinatagong mga pagsamo at pagpapapaubaya. Kaya’t sa gitna ng katahimikan at sa gabay ng ating mahal na Ina, taglay ang pananampalataya, pag-asa at pagmamahal, manalangin tayo ngayon:


Aba Ginoong Maria, napupuno ka ng grasya.
Ang Panginoong Diyos ay sumasaiyo.
Bukod kang pinagpala sa babaeng lahat
at pinagpala rin naman ang iyong Anak na si Hesus.
Santa Maria, Ina ng Diyos.
Ipanalangin mo kaming makasalanan.
Ngayon at kung kami’y mamamatay.
Amen.

Homily for the Funeral of Former President Corazon "Cory" Aquino

By Fr. Catalino Arevalo, SJ

If I may first ask pardon for what might be an unseemly introduction. In the last days of President Cory’s illness, when it seemed inevitable that the end would come, the assignment to give this homily was given to me. By Ms Kris Aquino, in fact. She reminded me that many times and publicly, her mother had said she was asking me to preach at her funeral Mass. Always I told her I was years older, and would go ahead of her, but she would just smile at this. Those who knew Tita Cory knew that when she had made up her mind, she had made up her mind.

What then is my task this morning? I know for certain that if liturgical rules were not what they are, she would have asked Congressman Ted Locsin to be here in my place. No one has it in him to speak as fittingly of Cory Aquino in the manner and measure of tribute she uniquely deserves, no one else as he. Asked in an interview she said that the address before the two Houses of Congress at Washington she considered perhaps the supreme shining moment of her life. We know who helped her with those words with which she conquered America. These last few days, too, every gifted writer in the press and other media has written on her person and political history, analyzed almost every side of her life and achievement as our own “icon of democracy”. More powerfully even, images of her and of EDSA UNO have filled hour after hour of TV time. Really, what else is left to be said?

CORY AQUINO FUNERAL HOMILY (this follows the INTRODUCTION)

So, Tita Cory, you’ll forgive me if I don’t even try to give a shadow of the great oration that should be given here this morning. Let me instead try to say some things the people who persevered for hours on end in the serried lines at Ortigas or here in Intramuros can (I hope) more easily follow. This is a lowly tribute at one with “the old sneakers and clothes made tighter by age, soaked by water and much worse for wear” of the men, women and children who braved the rain and the sun because they wanted to tell you, even for a brief and hurried moment, how much they love you. You truly ”now belong among the immortals”. But these words are for those mortals who with bruised hearts have lost “the mother of a people”. Maybe less elegantly than the seminarian said to me Monday, they would like to say also: “She was the only true queen our people have ever had, and she was queen because we knew she truly held our hearts in the greatness and the gentleness of her own.”

One of my teachers used to tell us that if we really wanted to know and understand a position held, we would have to learn it from someone fully committed to it. Just as only one who genuinely loves a person, really knows him or her also. So to begin with, I turned to three real “experts on Cory”; to ask them where for them the true greatness of Cory Aquino lay. My first source thought it was in her selflessness, seen above all in her love of country - surely above self; yes, even above family. Her self-giving, then, for us; what she had received, all became gift for us. The second, thought it was in her faith her greatness lay, in her total trust in God which was also her greatest strength. And the third said it was in her courage and the unshakable loyalty that went with it. It was a strength others could lean on; it never wavered; it never broke. . . . . . Cory’s selflessness and self-giving; her faith (the Holy Father just called it “unwavering”); her courage, her strength. -- May I use this short list to frame what I will say? O, let me name my experts now, if I may. They were three, all of them women close to her: Maria Elena Aquino Cruz, whom we know as Ballsy, Maria Aurora Aquino Abellada, Pinky to her friends; and Victoria Elisa Aquino Dee, Viel to the family. Kris and Noynoy are the public figures; they can speak for themselves. I hope they will forgive me that I did not ask.

First, then, her generous selflessness. For us this morning what is surely most to the point is her love of country. When her final illness was upon her already, she said, -- most recently at the Greenmeadows chapel (her last public words, I think) --that she was offering her suffering, first to God, then for our people. I heard that grandson Jiggy asked her why first for country and people, and she said that always the priority line-up was God, our country and our people, and then family. On radio, the other night, the commentator asked an old woman in line why she stood hours in the rain to get into La Salle. “Ito lang ang maibibigay ko po sa kanya, bilang pasasalamat.” “Bakit, ano ba ang ibinigay ni Cory sa inyo?” “Di po ba ang buhay nya? Ang buong sarila nya? At di po ba ang pagasa? Kaya mahal na mahal po namin siya.” Early on, on TV, they ran many times the clip from a last interview. She says, “I thank God, and then all of you, for making me a Filipino, for making me one of you. I cherish this as one of the truly great gifts I have received.” A few weeks from her death, she could say that; without put-on or the least insincerity. “I thank you, for making me one of you..”
Her selflessness, her self-gift. Pope Benedict likes to say that the God whom Jesus Christ revealed to us, is Father. A Father who is wholly self-gift; the God “whose nature is to give Himself” – to give Himself to us, in His Son. And, the Pope says, that is what is the meaning of Jesus and the life of Jesus, and, by discipleship, what the Christian’s life is meant to be. We Christians too, we must give ourselves away in the self-giving of love. “Ang buhay po nya at sarili. Kaya po mahal na mahal namin sya.” In the last days, when finally and reluctantly still she admitted she had much pain, I kept thinking that only a couple of weeks before, for the first time publicly, she said that she was offering it up first of all for us.”

Secondly, her faith. Pinky says, it was her mother’s greatest strength; it was what was deepest in her. Her faith was her bedrock, and it was, bedrock . Frederick Buechner the ordained minister and novelist likes to say that through his lifetime, he’s had many doubts, even deep doubt, daily doubts. “But I have never really looked down into the deep abyss and seen only nothing. Somehow I have known, that underneath all the shadows and the darkness, there are the everlasting arms.” I think Cory’s faith was like that, not in the multiplicity of doubts (even if. in a life so filled with trial, there surely were doubts too), but in the certainty of the everlasting arms. More than once she told me, “Every time life painted me into a corner, with seemingly no escape, I always turned to Him in trust. I knew He would never abandon us if we trusted in Him. And you know, somehow, He found a way out for us.” And so Pinky says, “Mom was always calm even in the most trying times. She trusted God would always be there for us, She was our source of strength. She made this world seem so much safer and less cruel for us. And now that our source of strength is gone, we have to make our faith something more like hers. But we know in our hearts that in every storm she will watch over us from heaven.”

Within this faith was her devotion to Mary, the place Our Lady of Fatima and the rosary held in her life. All we can say on this, this morning is that Our Lady truly had a special, living presence in her life: Mary was, for Cory, true mother and incomparable friend; as we say in the hymn, - vita, dulcedo et spes, - life, sweetness and hope. No, Mary was not the center of her faith, but its air, its atmosphere; and the rosary, her lifeline through every trial and crisis. In the long harsh months of her illness, Sister Lucia’s beads almost never left her hands. She was holding them, as last Saturday was dawning and her years of exile were at last done, when we know her Lady “showed unto her, the blessed fruit of her womb.”

Lastly. Her courage, her strength. Her children tell us that their father was only able to do what he wanted to do, because her loyalty and her support for his purposes was total, so she practically raised them up as a single parent. Ninoy himself wrote, again and again, that he endured imprisonment and persecution, leaning so much on her courage and love. And after his death, when she could have withdrawn in a way “safely”, to her own life with her children at last, she stayed on her feet and fought on in the years that followed, through the snap elections and what went before and after them, through her presidency and the seven coup attempts which tried to bring her down. Even after she had given up her rule, could she not have said “enough”, and we would all have understood? But with not the least desire for position or power again, whenever she thought the spaces of freedom and the true good of our land were threatened, she went back to the streets of struggle again. Once again she led us out of the apathy we so readily fall into; once again she called us out of our comfort zones to the roads of sacrifice.

Here, even hesitantly, may I add one trait, one virtue, -- to those her daughters have named? One day Cardinal Stephen Kim of South Korea asked if he might visit her. Through Ballsy, she said Yes. It was a day Malacanang was ‘closed’; they were making up the roster of members of the forthcoming Constitutional Convention. Someone from the palace staff ordered us turned away when we came; it was Ballsy who rescued us. Stephen Kim, hero and saint to his own people,--perhaps, along with Cardinal Sin, one the two greatest Asian Catholic prelates of our time,- = spent some 45 minutes talking with her. When we were on our way back, he said, “I know why the Lord has entrusted her with power, at this most difficult time. … It is because she is pure of heart. She has no desire for power; even now it is with reluctance she takes it on. And she has done this only because she wants to do whatever she can for your people.” He said, “she truly moves me by the purity of her spirit. God has given a great gift to your people.”

With this purity of heart, in the scheme of the Christian Gospel, there is joined another reality which really, only the saints understand. It is suffering. How often (it is really often; over and over through the years) she spoke of suffering as part of her life. Much contemporary spirituality speaks of suffering almost as the epitome of all evil. But in fact for all the saints, it is a mystery they themselves do not really understand nor really explain, Yet they accept it quietly, simply as part of their lives in Christ. There is only one painting she ever gave me. Kris said then, when her mom gave it to me, that it was her mom’s favorite. The painting carries 1998 as its date; Cory named it “Crosses and roses” There are seven crosses for the seven months and seven weeks of her beloved Ninoy’s imprisonment, and for the seven attempted coups during her presidency, and many roses, multi-colored roses all around them. At the back of the painting, in her own hand, she wrote a haiku of her own: “Crosses and roses/ make my life more meaningful./ I cannot complain.” Often she spoke of her “quota of suffering.” When she spoke of her last illness, she said: “I thought I had filled up my quota of suffering, but it seems there is no quota. I look at Jesus, who was wholly sinless: how much suffering he had to bear for our sakes.” And in her last public talk (it was at Greenmeadows chapel), the first time she spoke of her own pain: “I have not asked for it, but if it is meant to be part of my life still, so be it. I will not complain.” “I try to join it with Jesus’ pain and offering. For what it’s worth, I am offering it up for our people.” Friends here present, I tell you honestly I hesitated before going into this, this morning. But without it, part of the real Cory Aquino would be kept from view. Quite simply, this was integral to the love she bore for her people.

At this point, may I, following the lead Mr Rapa Lopa has given, just speak a word of thanks to President Cory’s children, who shared so much of her service and her sacrifice. They have almost never had their father and mother for themselves. For so many years, they have been asked to share Ninoy and Cory with all of us. And because of the blood and the spirit their parents have passed on to them, they too gave with generosity and grace the sacrifices we demanded of them. – Ballsy and Pinky, Viel and Kris, your husbands and your children, and Senator Noynoy, may we thank you this morning from all our hearts, and may we offer also the gratitude of the hearts of a people now forever in your debt.

In have used up all my time, some of you will say, and I have not even approached the essential: her political life, that she was our nation’s unique icon of democracy, that Cory Aquino who, throughout the world. was TIME magazine’s 1986’s woman of the year, she who led the ending of the dictatorship that had ruined our nation, the bearer of liberation, of freedom, and of hope for a prostrate people. So, by your leave, may I add one item, along this line at last. In October 1995, Milano’s Catholic University, conferred on her the doctorate honoris causa in the political sciences (incidentally, only her twenty-third honorary degree). This was only the fifth time this particular one had been given since the university’s inception: the first time to an Asian, the first ever to a woman. She wanted, at the end of her lectio magistralis, to spell out, perhaps for the first time with some explicitness and completeness, her personal political creed. She listed seven basic beliefs which, regarding political life , she said she tried to live by. Then she spoke of one more, “one more I may not omit.” Perhaps the paragraph which followed is worth citing here, even without comment, because it has something to say to our present hour.

(We cite her words now.) I believe that the vocation of politics must be accepted by those who take up the service of leadership as a vocation in its noblest meaning: it demands all of life. For the life of one would lead his or her people, -- in our time as never before, -- such a life must strive for coherence with the vision aspired to, or else that vision itself and its realization are already betrayed. That vision must itself be present, in some authentic way, in those who seek to realize it: present, in the witness of their example; present, in a purity of heart vis-à-vis the exercise and usages of power; present, in an ultimate fidelity to principle, in a dedication that is ready to count the cost in terms of “nothing less than everything.” It is Cardinal Newman, I believe, who said that in this world, we do good only in the measure that we pay for it in the currency of our own lives. For us Christians, there is always the image of Jesus, and the price his service demanded of him. And for me there has been, as a constant reminder, the sacrifice my husband offered, and the word that it has spoken, to me and my people.” (Cory Aquino, end of citation)

Conclusion

With all this said, I am done. Ma’am, tapos na po ang assignment ko. It has been so hard to do what you asked. But I comfort myself that these so many words really do not matter. What counts in the end is really – what all this week has been; these past few days’ outpouring of our people’s gratitude and love; what will come after all this today; what we will do, in the times ahead, in fidelity to your gift. I received a text last night from a man of some age and with some history behind him. “She made me proud again, to be Filipino.” Maybe that says it all., Cardinal Sin used to put it somewhat differently. “What a gift God has given our people, in giving Cory Aquino to us.” The nobility and courage of your spirit, the generosity of your heart, the grace and graciousness that accompanied you always. They called it “Cory magic” – but it was the truth, and the purity and beauty, clear and radiant within you, that we saw. And the hope that arose from that. And when the crosses came to you and you did not refuse to bear them, more to be one with your Christ and one with your people and their pain. “Blessed are the pure of heart; for they shall see God.”

Thank you Father in heaven, for your gift to us of Cory Aquino. Thank you that she passed once this way through our lives with the grace you gave her to share with us. If we give her back to you, we do it with hearts of thanksgiving, but now, oh, with breaking hearts also, because of the greatness and beauty of the gift which she was for us, the likes of which, perhaps, we shall not know again. Salamat po, Tita Cory, mahal na mahal po namin kayo.

Photo Credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rog3rs/3784297625/

Dare We Ask the Question?

By Fr. Arnel Aquino, SJ
Homily shared to the Ateneo High School Community
July 30, 2009 Ateneo High School Covered Courts
Solemnity of St. Ignatius of Loyola

When I was in grade four, there was one time when my dad thought it a brilliant idea to cut my hair instead of bringing me to the barber. Back then, I already thought it was bad news. But what could I do? So dad cut my hair, bangs-style, as we called it back then. It was horrible. He combed all my hair down towards my forehead, and ran his scissors on a straight line from right to left. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I looked like I was a wearing an inverted black bowl on my head. I hated it. I went dreadfully to school and as soon as my best friends saw my hair, one of them named Raul who didn’t have front teeth walked up to me and said, “Bakit parang bunot ang buhok mo?” And all I could say was, “Gagu. Bungal.”

A month ago in Boston, when I passed a group of well-dressed high school students on my way to church, I overheard one of them say, “Dude, I don’t wanna be seen with you. You look like a tree, man.” It was obvious that they were going somewhere special, and this guy was dressed in a green top-coat and brown corduroy pants. He looked like a tree. And I felt like saying, “Your friend’s right…dude.” But they were very big boys so I just shut up and minded my own business.

Two weeks ago, when fellow Jesuits and I were walking up to the high school covered courts for the Ignatius Mass, I spotted three students seated on a bench near the ATM. And I overheard one guy sincerely tell his sad-looking friend, “Alam mo problema mo, pare, kapal ng mukha mo eh. Abusado ka eh.” I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. But the guy who was being told off by his friend certainly looked like he agreed with him anyhow.

I remember these stories and something at the back of my head says: “Arnel, remember those times when people were actually able to tell each other what they thought about one another? Especially the lowdown’s. Remember those times when your friends could actually tell you that your attitude sucked? Those times when you and your friends could actually tell a friend ‘Alam mo, style mo, bulok’?”

For some reason, when we grow older, we lose a lot of that. We lose that spontaneity. We lose that kind of friendliness that’s able to tell each other what annoys us about one another. All grown up, you get more and more scared of being honestly told who people think you really are. If we dared ask a friend: “Who do people say that I am?” the question will most likely fetch the lowdown about ourselves. And who would want to hear that? Let me hear praise. Let me hear compliments. Let me hear what a terrific guy I am. But a lowdown? When we grow older, we begin to live with an implicit rule: “I won’t tell you your lowdown’s, so that you won’t tell me mine.” That way, we live peacefully. “Peacefully”.

Or do we? Do we really?

Many a time in the parishes and seminaries all over the world, nobody stood up to a fellow priest who was playing favorites with seminarians or spent too much time with altar boys or young girls. Suddenly, sexual scandals rocked Christendom and led to the ruin not only of priests, not only of their victims, but also of innocent faithful people scandalized out of their wits, and walked out of the Catholic faith shaking their heads. Why? No one wanted to hear the lowdown about themselves, so they weren’t confronting anyone else’s.

Recently, in a well-known school in Manila, nobody had ever gone up to the parent of a kid who bullied his way around. The kid obviously believed he could do anything he wanted because of the power of family money and the force of his dad’s rage. One fine day, out of a sudden urge to show off his stupid wrestling skills, he put a smaller classmate in a headlock and never let go. Blood stopped flowing to the little guy’s brain. The guy wilted, and fainted, and his heart stopped beating, and he died. All because despite the alarm bells that rang around the bully and his family, nobody ever had the gumption to tell him or his parents who people said the kid was, and the kind of monster the kid was turning out to be.

God knows how many more years it will take us to tell people like the Arroyos and some stupid congressmen and senators, “God love you but you’ve made a fool of us enough. So get the hell out our lives.” Because nobody would tell them who they really are for us, we, as a country, are waist-deep in c-r-a-p.

Fellow Ateneans, brothers and sisters, we have to be able to ask the very same questions that our Lord asked Peter. “Who do you say that I am? Who do people say that I am?” In the experience of Ignatius of Loyola, in every moment, God works very hard at each of us so that we may have an ever-deepening self-knowledge. You know why? Because that is where God works His miracles—from within the deepest part of ourselves. Because that is where God works His healing—in the darkest parts of ourselves. Because that is where God dwells—within the deepest part of ourselves. One of the best ways to approach that deepest part is to dare ask the question: “Pare, who do you say that I am, really?” “Bespren, who do people say that I am? Yung totoo.” “Anak, magtapat ka nga sa akin, hindi ako magagalit, promise, kumusta ba ako sa iyo?”

Matanong ko nga kayo: among the hundreds and hundreds of friends you have on your Facebook “community”, is there at least one—one soul in there who knows you so well that you can dare ask, “Anong palagay mo sa akin? Ano ba talaga ang palagay ng ibang tao sa akin?” If no such person exists on your Facebook or in your life who can answer that question with brutal honesty, then I guess you’re just a face in a book. Because regardless of the wealth of friends we have on Facebook in terms of figures, we are actually only the poorer if none of them may tell us who we really are to them. And what you have is really only a virtual personality; a Facebook personality. Little do those friends know, suplado ka pala sa personal.

Knowing the self deeply is knowing how we affect one other—both in good ways and in bad. Oh it will hurt to be told the lowdown’s about ourselves, of course it will. And it will be bad news to many of us, of course it will. And it will even take some of us by surprise, sure it will. But realize this, if we are so perfect as we often take for granted that we are, then maybe we don’t need God. Maybe we don’t need healing. If you are so good that you don’t have any lowdown’s, then you must be the Messiah the world is waiting for! And Peter must have been wrong, because we have a Messiah back here, there are hundreds of us, Messiahs, in fact.

But thankfully there already is a God. There already is a Messiah, who himself was nailed to a cross despite his utter goodness. And if this Messiah-God dared ask who people think he was, how dare us say we are his followers when we never dare enough ask that question ourselves.

Ad majorem + Dei gloriam!

Photo courtesy of Sch. Weng Bava, SJ