The Father saw everything that He made, it was good, and He was so happy. Jesus grimaced in pain as whips brutally squashed his bloodied, trembling and dying body. The Holy Spirit bound them in love amidst separation and death; and on the resurrection, unity. Joys and sorrows of the Trinity. O Great mystery of LOVE!
Thanksgiving. Anamnesis. Epiclesis. It’s all in the Holy Eucharist. The source and summit. It capsulizes everything. There’s the Food that nourishes a hunger commonly shared by people from all walks of life. That’s why people flock endlessly at the Cathedral or at the Nazareno church, etc. Each one is bringing his/her own unique story. A farmer is all smiles and gratitude for winning in the Swertres. A nanay grieves as she remembered her apo drowned helplessly by the flood. Tears of joy well from the eyes of a young lady as she reminisced the moment she and her baby were finally accepted and reunited with her parents after long months of struggling over the trauma of unwanted pregnancy. Joys and sorrows – though with different stories, come as one. Yes, this may sound ordinary; we may have been used to hearing that. But the fact of integrating such common experience of people who flock into the Church to the very experience of the Trinity, from ad intra to ad extra, seems to be awkward to a paternalistic and superstition-oriented culture. So, with this “Filipinos-are-not-used-to” presentation, we would expect a poor fisherman question, “Didn’t you mention about the “joys and sorrows” of the Santisima Trinidad, at the same time our very human “joys and sorrows”? You mean, God, who is up there, connects with our poverty? Naa diay na nga koneksyon? Or aren’t we just minimalizing the greatness of His power? Isn’t the Santisima Trinidad a mystery that can’t be fathomed? Well, if that’s the case, how then can we be able to connect the two? How can you make us, poor, feel that there’s such a connection?” I myself got intrigued and asked these questions even long before until the first few sessions of the class. Well, I can’t blame myself, this was where I was reared up and this was what I was brought to think, to the extent of looking at God as punisher. Going back, so, how then? Through ME! Through any future servant-leader! (Sorry if I sounded boastful, but I do not really intend to, for I deeply felt that this is one of which a pastor is challenged to do). The Trinity will always be a mystery, and we accept that – unfathomable, hard to grasp; so hard that one Viannista priest preferred to focus and expand the “going-back-to-Galilee-experience-with-Jesus-whenever-we-are-struck-with-problems” message in his homily (of course, I respected his reason of simplification and context for using this other rich and meaningful message). But, what if I were on his shoes, what will I probably share in the homily? Honestly, with the little grasp of knowledge that I had that time since before, I would still probably give the same content (actually, I had been affirming and nodding during the homily since it resonated excellently to my still-fresh and brimming GY formation experience). Now, the class which really focused on the Trinity had ended. Indeed, I learned ever more than I expected; the competence of the professor, the simplifications, the nexus mysteriorum to the other aspects particularly the social dimensions, the lively interactions, honest sharing of limitations and insufficiencies regarding the doctrines, the presence of grounded lay persons, etc. – displayed the brilliance and excellence: One of the “full-of-surprises” grace of God that I received. There was more to say then, about the Trinity despite the limited grasp. So, what if I were to deliver a homily about this “considered-untouchable-and-hard-truth” to a far-flung simple barrio in our place? What if I were to enlighten the fisherman’s confusion? Then, at first, I thought it would be absolute to give a full-packed doctrine about it (yes, probably I could, with God’s grace, depending on the context). But, later, I was just put back in “discontentment” upon realizing that the Holy Trinity, through the class, has prepared instead a very simple, “already-there-in-every-heart” homily understandable and connectable even to the lowliest fellows far away (I was reminded of Coelho’s The Alchemist). God allowed me to see that. The message is already there pala in the hearts of the poor; I even am experiencing it – it was barely due to the fact that WE ARE NOT SIMPLY AWARE because it’s just ordinarily lived everyday; never that complicated.
Giver. Given. Gift-ing. Allow me to start in this light. Joys and pains in the Trinity. He laughs, He cries, He binds deep separations in love. “Manong, He’s not at all paternalistic, authoritarian, absolutely untouchable.” Love: His very initiative of “emptying Himself and taking the form of a slave” just to be in our own state. “He’s name is Emmanuel, Manong!”
Joys and pains in the squatter community. Children and adults (even drunk) dance on the street with festive hearts on Christmas Day despite the neighborhood’s cracking and busting sound of the cheap and brand-imitated speakers. Crime is uncontrollable due to poverty and drugs. Tension, grief and uncertainty ruled over the news that their tiny, constricted houses will be demolished. A relocation site led them to start anew with a spark of hope.
Isn’t God doing the initiative of making us feel that He’s one of us in the joys and pains of life?! That itself is a GIFT! With that, a poor widow realizes that despite the complexities of her life, she has been GIVEN the GIFT and is constantly receiving the GIFTING from the GIVER. And thus, spontaneously and over flowingly goes out from her the generosity to hope and share the gift more than she received. A simple assurance of presence was good enough for her to give more than just presence. The squatter community made me realize that there was more than any food on every meal. It was the laughter and openness of heart to share stories that made our stomachs truly full as we gather and share a few bulad and sinugba. True generosity, indeed; goes beyond a catering service. They offered me the softest bed I’ve ever laid on: Worn-out pillows and habol matched the pinagtagping mosquito net and old banig on top of their shaking bamboo floor. Precisely the softest bed because it was prepared with an undivided heart. And the month-long sojourn was concluded with tears as the small community really waited with me on the side walk as we waited for the jeep to fetch me; and later handed me a handful of coins for pabaon with these striking words, “Ayaw bya mi kalimti Jun ha…” how could my heart not squeeze in the sorrow of goodbyes and the longing to see them back as the same community when in fact they would separate ways after the demolition. I missed them so much! What was even more striking was when we were already taking pictures after the graduation rite in the seminary, a small package wrapped in ordinary paper was handed on to me. I was so surprised to see them so happy for me, handing the gift with all humility and shyness. It was a traveling bag they secretly saved for me. “We hope Jun you’ll bring this bag as you proceed to your next journey”. That was the only gift I received on my graduation day, and they’re even coming from a community unknown and even despised by the some in the society. My being one of the “given” was limited, but they returned it much more than what was given to them. There is indeed “no poor as to have nothing to give”! Jesus gave more than what he had as a poor carpenter’s son – his very life!
Were they aware of that? I would never ever claim that through our presence there they changed; for long before we came there, it’s already in them, only that, they might not be aware of that. They may not always be present at Mass, but through God’s grace He made them do it, and through such grace and experience of the generosity of God in me, I was able to see that in them. The Giver, Given, and Gift-ing just spontaneously touch their lives and assure them of His presence and oneness in the joys and pains of daily life, and so does generosity naturally flows from them. Last summer, as I was seated on one of the seats in our little Chapel during the Mass, a poor family came in and sat beside me. As I looked at them, tears just streamed from my eyes upon seeing how they really tried to dress formally and decently despite the faded clothings and repaired shoes they had, and the simple aroma of the Johnsons and Johnson’s baby powder and cologne they could only afford to use – while I only dress in casual clothes and slippers. I could clearly see in the Father’s though pitiful eyes the responsibility and commitment to bring his wife and kids to Mass. What a father! See the generosity of offering the best out of simplicity just for the Lord! Even concretely was the very striking heroism of an unrecognized 18-year old construction worker Muelmar Magallanes who saved over 30 people from Ondoy’s raging floods in Quezon City. Finally, he heard a scream: a mother and her baby on a Styrofoam box slowly being swept away. He was able to save the mother and the baby, but he ended up not being able to save himself due to exhaustion (PDI, 19/29/09). See his generosity! Sounds familiar eh! – Bravely saving other people even though it means risking his life. Was he aware of it? He may not be that much aware of that because it was already in him; he’s living with it everyday, the grace of God never selects, even a mere construction worker. What he was absolutely aware of was the fact that God gave him ever-supportive parents that despite poverty still saw and made him aware of the goodness and intrinsic value in him; so clear in his father and mother’s testimony after his death: “He always had a good heart,” and “incredibly brave”. Consequently, the generosity to share his gift of risking his life just to help others just sparked and flowed from him spontaneously and voluntarily! He acted without one commanding him to, isn’t it a habit of grace; so moral in his way! He could have chosen autonomy, but still ended up embracing the risk and surrendered everything to God. In the life of the Trinity is communion, not autonomy. His death of self was honored as sharing in the Paschal Mystery of Christ that led him to his destiny: Life and communion with the triune God! Indeed, he received grace not just a help for him but actually elevated him to the level of transforming his being more and more in the image and likeness of God. He received the GIFT; so now, he was the one giving what was freely given to him. The whirlpool of love! See the grammar of gift!
Millions of these heroes are still alive today, and unrecognizably go to the Church everyday or on Sundays. And these same people experience the joys and pains of life; faith and hope are even shaken. One of them will probably be like Nelson Tobillo who after losing her 12-year old daughter due to Ondoy’s wrath, cried in agony, “He (God) shouldn’t have given us 12 years if it would just be taken from us!” (PDI, 09/30/09). Yes, I know, it would still be difficult for these victims to grasp the truth about the Trinity’s sharing of pain with them. For now, the presence, the just-being-there, the touch and embrace helps a lot, hope they’ll soon see the sharing-of-God-in-pain through these people. How can I, as a future pastor, be of a link and instrument to them, not just to these recent victims but to the whole Church as well who flock for prayer and alleviation? I may not be able to stroke every back always or tap every shoulder. Some will just see me stretching my hands soon as I celebrate Mass. Seen or felt, may I be a GIFT to these people. Let me conform my very life first to the very image and likeness of the Triune God. My joys and pains to Their joys and pains.
Mama expressed in tears for our Manoy who left us for a while a few years ago, “I will never lose hope Jun…” In the end, I still couldn’t really grasp, couldn’t contain my being with such awe and wonder on the fact that when God touches one in grace, he would just allow the person to utter “HOPE” and act “BRAVELY”!
Let this LOVE diffuse.
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