Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 07 May 2024
My favorite photo of my mom and dad, so candid, “silang-sila talaga”; now, they are together in heaven.
Yes. It is true. I just realized today that we never get used to any death because every death is different as the person who dies. And most especially, now I have realized, every death is always a blessing from God.
I was preparing for our 630AM Mass today when my youngest niece called me, crying, and the only word I understood she was saying was “Mamu”, referring to my mother. I then asked my brother priest to take over my Mass as I headed home. In less than half an hour, I was anointing my mom for the final moment, said prayers and blessed her body with Holy Water with my sisters and only brother.
I knew this day was coming, even approaching.
In 2020 during the COVID pandemic, I begged God to keep us all safe, not to take any one from my family, especially Mommy who had a stroke in 2005. June last year she had another stroke but refused to stay in the hospital, begged me not to have her confined, “Father, huwag mo ako ipa-ospital…tama na… ayoko na.” What can I do but obey my mother. Last January, she had permanently been bed-ridden, been sleeping for days, and had refused to eat on several days. But one thing we noticed she had always been bubbling with joy, cracking jokes whenever she would wake up.
Mommy would always say the day she married my dad was the happiest day of her life.
Every week, I would visit her, anoint her with Holy Oil and bring her Holy Communion. Since January this year, I have been praying to God to give my mother a peaceful death. I did not ask for her happy death because I felt how happy she has been this past year. Lord, just make it peaceful. No more pain because she had gone through many pain in her life since her childhood as she used to tell me. That is why she insisted on us to all finish our studies because she never had the chance to even reach high school because of that dictum in those years “mag-aasawa lang ang babae…”
And she died peacefully. Definitely, happily early today. My sister said she was supposed to give her medications before 6AM when mommy did not move or even twitch a little. She was still warm, my sister said but unusually still unlike before. That was when they called me.
Like when my dad suddenly died on mommy’s birthday, June 17, 2000, I could not cry hard enough. I feel very sad. But there is that inner joy and peace within me. Especially with my mom’s passing. I thought I would be used to her dying, having prepared for this day, having through dad’s sudden death 24 years ago.
By the way, my homilies since Sunday have always revolved around mommy:
I never knew mommy would “join” daddy today in heaven.
Iba pa rin pala. God is so good. That’s all I feel at the moment. God is so good. He listens and grants our deepest prayers. All praise to Him. Kindly pray for my mother, Corazon. God bless you too and thank you.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 22 March 2024
Photo by author, Sacred Heart Novitiate, Novaliches, QC, 19 March 2024.
Salamuch to all your birthday greetings and prayers. You were all prayed for during my five day silent retreat here at the Sacred Heart Novitiate in Novaliches, my “Bethel” and “Peniel” in the last ten years.
It was in Bethel where Jacob dreamt of a stairway to heaven that upon waking up realized “the Lord is in this spot, although I did not know it” (Gen.28:16, 19) while it was in Peniel where he wrestled with an angel that he was given the other name “Israel… because you have contended with divine and human beings and have prevailed” (Gen.32:29, 31).
The newly reblocked tree-lined road of Sacred Heart Novitiate.
God has been so kind to me to let me reach 59 – isang taon na lang may Senior Citizen Card na ako!
Last Sunday I had a long lunch with two of my former students in our girls’ high school in Malolos. It was a great feeling of being “reconnected” not only with Karen and Kweenie but also with myself.
God is our most important “connection” in life. To be connected, to reconnect with him is to be one, to be whole again with one’s self, with others and the rest of creation. And that is what a retreat is, a vacation with the Lord which is to reconnect with Him, to be healed and be whole again to find our other vital connections in life (https://lordmychef.com/2024/03/18/re-con-nect/). Here are some of my reflections; hope to help or guide you too to God.
After sunset at the Sacred Heart Novitiate, 21 March 2024.
If I say, “Surely darkness shall hide me, and night shall be my light” — Darkness is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but one.
Psalm 139:11-12
Very often, we feel disconnected from God and everyone, even from one’s self when there is darkness in life due to sins and failures or disappointments as well as when we are tired and feeling sad, even depressed, for varied reasons.
But, the grace of God is actually most bountiful when we are in darkness. And the irony of it all, it is in our darkness is also our light! It is the other side of that another irony I realized a few years ago that it is in emptiness when we are actually full. Kung kailan wala, at saka mayroon!
From the refectory of Sacred Heart Novitiate, 18 March 2024.
In His great silence, God never stops doing something in us and with us while we are groping in the dark. Many times, the very things we complain and cry about that brought us darkness are in fact the most beautiful things we can have and must have done in this imperfect world. Feel God tapping our shoulders, even thanking us that despite the darkness we are into, we remain faithful and committed, still caring and loving those entrusted to us, especially the children and the sick as well as those who hurt us or a burden to us.
Life is always difficult but many times we ignore this reality.
Have you sometimes wondered why life has become so complicated and competitive these days that even if you are not in the “rat race” itself especially when friends and family come to unburden themselves to us, we also get affected. That is when we overextend ourselves helping them, connecting them without realizing we are the ones getting disconnected too with our very selves and the realities of life.
When things are getting dark, stop and accept the fact we are tired or sad. That it is already night time and too dark to go out, that we need to stay inside or remain where we are. Let the darkness pass to avert disasters like breakdowns, feeling exhausted and depleted that we get sick physically and emotionally. When darkness comes, rest in the Lord and enjoy the stars and the moon above.
The Novitiate abounds with calachuchi trees that one can smell the sweet scent of its flowers especially in the evening.
I praise you, so wonderfully you made me; wonderful are your works! My very self you knew; How precious to me are your designs, O God; how vast the sum of them!
Psalm 139:14, 17
Why can’t I accept that I am good, so wonderfully created by God? What a shame at how I always tell people, especially students and youth, to always believe in themselves, that our main problem in life is self-rejection which I am also guilty of.
Lately I have been questioning myself if I am really good at all: “talaga ba akong magaling at mahusay o ma-papel lang?”
Tranquil afternoon at the Sacred Heart Novitiate, 19 March 2024.
It is funny that as I cross into the threshold of senior years, I still have many insecurities in life, still doubting my abilities, of who I am.
One thing God has revealed me this week of prayers is how self-rejection is a result of lack of gratitude to Him. It is only when we are truly grateful to God can we accept, then own our giftedness as a person.
Many times we thank God for his “material” gifts to us that include our family and friends, jobs and career, house and cars and gadgets. Not to forget money and wealth, including fame for some. We thank God for everything except our very gift of selves. We are the most precious gift of God we always forget to thank Him for – our giftedness as a person with all of our talents and abilities.
Bethel and Peniel in one.
Being grateful to God means seeing myself as God sees me His beloved child. Not the way we see ourselves before God that would always be in extremes, either we are too good like the Pharisee in Christ’s parable (Lk. 18:9-14) or too bad almost like the devil.
The more I am grateful to God, the more I cherish my personhood that despite my many flaws and sins, I am still loved by God our Father.
Gratitude is more than being thankful; it is entering into a deeper relationship with God and with anyone good to us. Ungrateful people who could not say “thank you” are the ones who do not care at all to others and their kindness. Whenever we say “thank you,” it means we not only appreciate and acknowledge their gift but most of all, their personhood inasmuch as they have recognized us in the first place.
Photo by author, Sacred Heart Novitiate, Novaliches, QC, 20 March 2024.
This morning in our Mass, I felt so touched by God that tears swelled in my eyes twice. First when we sang in the entrance hymn “Buksan ang aming plad, sarili’y maialay; turuan Mong ihanap kami ng bagong malay.”
I think that is one thing I need this year, a new consciousness about God, of myself, and my vocation. Lately, I have been “romancing” death. It is not being morbid but simply accepting that reality becoming more real as we age. But, sometimes, I must confess, any fascination with death is defeatist in nature like when we start thinking of retiring early. I have always believed the priesthood is always seeking new directions in the ministry, in serving God and others but lately with all the darkness in me and around me, I just feel like retiring early, of just waiting for the end, whatever that may mean.
Lord Jesus Christ, bring back that fire and enthusiasm in me; give me a new consciousness of You, of me, and of my ministry.
The beauty and majesty of God at the Sacred Heart Novitiate.
Tears swelled in my eyes the second time during the Offertory in our Mass as we sang Take and Receive which is actually the surrender prayer by St. Ignatius. It was the last prayer I recited before the Blessed Sacrament last night as I closed my retreat with a Holy Hour. It is my most favorite prayer but also the one I rarely pray after realizing and feeling its “existential” meaning during our 30-day retreat in 1995.
Try contemplating its meaning and you feel scared praying it, as if telling God, “not yet, Lord, not yet”: “Take Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will, all that I have and possess. Thou has given all to me. To thee, O Lord, I return it. All is Thine, dispose of it wholly according to Thy will. Give me thy nlove and thy grace, for this is sufficient for me.”
As I closed my retreat last night, I felt praying it again with the same conviction in 1995 after our 30-day retreat, in 1997 for our diaconal ordination and in 1998 for our presbyteral ordination. Once in a while I pray it too in high moments with the Lord. Like last night and this morning.
Thank you, dearest Father for the gift of life, for the gift of personhood; Lord Jesus Christ, You have given me with so much and I have given You so little; teach me to give more of myself, more of of Your love and mercy; take whatever I still have so that I can give more of You in the Holy Spirit. With Mary, teach me to be poor in You. Amen.
Thank you everyone for your love, for your gift of self, for your friendship.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 14 March 2024
Image from Pinterest.
I have rarely watched Netflix for over a year except on Sundays after lunch. Aside from my busy schedule, I find really nothing so special nowadays with Netflix. Even my folks back home rarely watch it.
However, three Sundays ago at the start of Lent, I felt like that kid in the 1982 Poltergeist movie wanting to scream “they’re… back” not out of fear but of sheer joy like a child when I saw NBC’s Law & Order: Special Victims Unit streaming! I had to forego my siesta and spent the whole afternoon binge-watching an old favorite.
The following Sunday as I looked forward to another afternoon of Law & Order, I found Netflix streaming anew another favorite, Midnight Diner: Tokyo Stories.
From then on, I have found another good reason to binge-watch Netflix once in a while even on weekdays. And what a wonderful daily trip to have between the world’s two greatest cities, New York and Tokyo!
From en.wikipedia.org
I have always loved watching police stories since childhood. It was my first “dream” job – to be a detective like Jack Lord, a.k.a. Steve Magarette of Hawaii Five-O, Michael Douglas with Carl Marden of Streets of San Francisco, and the many cops of Hill Street Blues.
A spin-off from the original series Law & Order that was equally good, Law & Order: SVU is distinctly unique with its introduction that says,
In the criminal justice system, sexually based offenses are considered especially heinous. In New York City, the dedicated detectives who investigate these vicious felonies are members of an elite squad known as the Special Victims Unit. These are their stories.
Opening narration spoken by Steven Zirnkilton
The show premiered in September 1999 and has now become America’s longest running crime series now on its 25th season. What Netflix is streaming are the five seasons from 2009.
But, we love reruns!
The same thing is true with Midnight Diner: Tokyo Stories. Originally called Midnight Diner when it premiered in 2009, it was renamed to its present title in 2016 when Netflix took over its production to make it more slick perhaps and palatable to worldwide audience without losing its Japanese touch and flavors that make it so irresistible especially the Nihongo language and songs.
Like Law & Order: SVU, Midnight Diner has a distinctive introduction that promises it to be a series one should not miss.
When people finish their day and hurry home, my day starts. My diner is open from midnight to seven in the morning. They call it “Midnight Diner”. [cut to menu listing “pork miso soup combo, beer, sake, shochu”] That’s all I have on my menu. But I make whatever customers request as long as I have the ingredients for it. That’s my policy. Do I even have customers? More than you would expect.[1]
Opening narration by the chef known simply as the “Master” played by Kaoru Kobayashi
But of course, we love “reheated” food as much as we enjoy reruns in TV shows and movies!
Like old movies and TV shows, some food tastes better when reheated the second time. Even the third time like mechado or anything with sarsa (sauce).
We call it in Filipino, pangat for pangalawa (second) o pangatlong (third) init (reheat)! Actually, pangat is the simplest way of cooking fish boiled in small amount of water with tomatoes and/or onions or kamias.
Maybe, as we get older, everything becomes simpler in life. We do not want so many complications or “dramas” as we say. Simple food, simple drinks, simple evenings. Even reruns and replays, whether food or shows. Why, even people maybe because our bestest friends are those we have kept all these years that whenever we get together, we just rerun our conversations of the same topics when we were together 30 years or 40 years or 50 years ago!
Law & Order: SVU and Midnight Diner: Tokyo Stories are two great series like our good old friends. Both shows have got better as they age but always relevant because in their very heart is still the dignity of every human person who must be loved and respected always.
It is amazing that both series are set at two great cities of the world, so apart with each other in everything yet, it is always nice to find kind souls with warm hearts willing to lay everything down for what is true and good. And noble.
Catch them in Netflix. Even for the second or the third or the fourth time. They are television’s finest. Both are a gem to treasure.
*By the way, we are not paid by Netflix nor by anyone for this. We just love the series. Promise.
NEW YORK – AUGUST 10: Ice-T, Christopher Meloni and Mariska Hargitay filming on location for “Law & Order: SVU” on the streets of Manhattan on August 10, 2010 in New York City. (Photo by Bobby Bank/WireImage)
Sabi ko nga sa inyo, kumbinsido ako na mas maraming nasa langit kesa nasa impiyerno. Gagawa at gagawa ng paraan ang Diyos upang masagip ang isang kaluluwa kesa mapahamak sa walang hanggang apoy ng impiyerno.
Tinawag tayo ng Diyos hindi upang parusahan, kundi upang iligtas sa pamamagitan ng ating Panginoong Jesu-Cristo.
1 Tesalonica 5:9
Maraming pagkakataon ko ito napatunayan bilang pari, lalo mula noong 2021 nang maging chaplain ako dito sa pagamutan. Hindi ko makakalimutan yung isa naming pasyente noong isang taon bago mag-Undas.
Larawan kuha ni Dra. Mylene A. Santos, MD sa France, 2022.
Pagkaraan kong magmisa ng Miyerkules ng tanghali sa aming Basic Education Department, nakatanggap ako ng sick call sa aming emergency room. Kaagad ako pumunta at inabutan ko ang isang matandang lalaki na naka-oxygen at maraming mga aparatu na naka-monitor sa kanya.
Lampas 90 na kanyang edad at ang sabi sa akin ng duktor ay maaring pumanaw ang pasyente ano mang oras. Sa malakas kong tinig, sinikap kong kausapin ang pasyente, sinabihan ko siyang magsisi sa kanyang mga kasalanan habang siya ay aking dinarasalan at papahiran ng Banal na Langis. Bumalik ako sa aming university pagkatapos noon.
Laking gulat ko nang sumunod na araw ng Linggo sa aking paghahatid ng Komunyon at pagbabasbas sa mga may-sakit sa aming pagamutan: buhay pa rin iyong pasyente sa pinuntahan ko ng Miyerkules sa ER!
At nang sumunod na araw na naman ng Linggo, naroon pa rin ang naturang pasyente – buhay! Maniwala kayo, umabot pa ng ikatlong araw ng Linggo ang naturang pasyente na dinalaw ko at dinasalan. Nagtataka na rin mga duktor at nars na kung ilang ulit na rin iyon nag-delikado ngunit biglang lumalakas na di mawari.
Noong ikatlong araw ng Linggo na iyon, kinausap ako ng panganay na anak na babae na umuwi mula sa Amerika. Nalaman ko na tatlo silang magkakapatid na puro babae, pawang mga may asawa na rin sila. Filipino-Chinese sila na may-ari ng malaking negosyo sa Bulacan. Wala na ang kanilang ina na pumanaw sa sakit na cancer noon pa.
Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Camp John Hay, Baguio City, 12 Hulyo 2023.
Laking gulat ko at nangilabot din ako sa kuwento ng panganay na anak na babae: mahilig ang kanilang ama sa mga occult practices gaya ng pagkausap sa kaluluwa ng mga yumao nilang kamag-anak at iba pang mga espiritu, ang pag gamit ng mga anting-anting, mga tarot cards, ouija board at marami pang iba.
Bago daw iyon maglubha, pilit na ipinapasa sa isa sa kanilang magkakapatid ang “kapangyarihan” na nakuha sa yumao nilang lola na ina ng kanilang ama. Inutusan daw silang kunin at dasalin mga aklat-dasalan ng kanilang ama na nasa tila wikang Latin. Noon lamang daw nila nakita mga iyon bagama’t naaalala nilang patagong ginagamit ng tatay nila mga iyon noon pa man.
Noon ko naisip na kaya hindi pa pumapanaw ang naturang pasyente na ibig ipasa kanyang mga occult practices sa kanyang anak. Tinanong ko magkakapatid ano kanilang saloobin at pare-pareho silang ayaw nilang tumulad sa kanilang ama. Natuwa naman ako sa kanilang desisyon kaya ipinaliwanag ko na rin sa kanila ang kahulugan at mga implikasyon ng occult practices ng tatay nila. Kailangan kako na “madeliver” siya mula sa impluwensiyang iyon ng demonyo at ikalawa, wasakin mga gamit niya kayat ipinakuha ko iyon habang ako naman ay umuwi ng parokya upang kunin ang aklat ng exorcismo ni P. Jocis Syquia.
Larawan kuha ng may-akda, Pambansang Dambana ng Birhen ng Fatima, 06 Nobyembre 2023.
Pagbalik ko ng parokya, una kong ginawa ay nangumpisal ng aking mga kasalanan sa kasama naming pari. Kumain lamang ako ng kaunti at saka nanalangin sa harap ng Santisimo Sakramento. Pagkaraan ng isang oras, bumalik ako sa ospital upang ganapin ang deliverance prayer sa pasyente ayon sa aklat ni P. Syquia. Muli ko siyang pinahiran ng Banal na Langis at nanalangin kami ng kanyang pamilya pagkaraan ng deliverance session.
Pagkaraan noon ay dinasalan ko at binasbasan mga aklat-dasalan, anting-anting at iba pang mga gamit sa occult ng pasyente na pinagsama-sama ng kanilang boy sa isang black plastic bag. Hindi ko na binulatlat pa ni hawakan mga iyon. Basta, mahigpit kong pinagbilinan yung boy na sunugin lahat ng mga iyon at itapon sa ilog mga abo. Huwag na huwag ka ika ko magtatago ni kukuha ng isa kungdi ay mapapasama kanyang buhay. Hapon na nang maka-uwi ako ng parokya at ang una kong ginawa ay manalangin muli sa harapan ng Santisimo Sakramento.
Umuwi ang naturang pasyente kinabukasan araw ng Lunes. Wala pa raw isang oras sa bahay habang nakahiga sa bago niyang hospital bed, payapang pumanaw ang naturang pasyente. Ayon sa mga nars, nagbalik doon ang panganay na anak na babaeng kumausap sa akin upang magpaabot ng pasasalamat at naikuwento nga paanong pumanaw ang kanilang ama.
Larawan ni Lucifer, ang Satanas, mula sa wikipediacommons.org.
Muli, mga ginigiliw ko, noon ko napatunayan ang lalim at lawak, ang di masusukat na pagmamahal sa atin ng Diyos na hindi niya tayo tatawaging mamatay nang hindi pa handa.
Pakiwari ko ay sa tatlong linggong iyon mula nang pahiran ko ng Langis sa ER ang naturang pasyente, nakipagbuno at babag sa demonyo si San Miguel Arkanghel sa utos ng Diyos upang agawin at iligtas ang kaluluwa ng taong iyon.
Isinulat ko rin ito upang tigilan na rin sana ng mga makababasa nito ang anu mang uri ng mga occult practices pati na mga tawas at pagpunta sa mga faith healer, manghuhula at espiritista. Magpatingin muna sa duktor kung mayroong karamdaman. Lakipan ito ng taimtim na pananalangin at matibay na pananalig sa Diyos nating makapangyarihan sa lahat. Amen.
Lawiswis ng Salita ni P. Nicanor F. Lalog II, Ika-14 ng Nobyembre 2023
Larawan kuha ng may-akda, San Juan, La Union, Hulyo 2023.
Noong ako ay bagong pari, maraming pagkakataon na para ako nahihiya o nababagabag kapag iyong aking dinalaw na may sakit ay pumanaw pagkaraan ko siya pahiran ng Banal na Langis. Binibiro kasi ako palagi ng mga tao na huwag ko silang dadalawin kapag sila ay nagkasakit dahil sa halip na mabuhay pa, baka sila ay mamatay kaagad.
Napawi na lamang aking pagkabagabag nang ipaliwanag sa akin ng dati kong kura, ang yumaong Padre Nanding Ersando na ikagalak ko raw kung pumanaw ang pinahiran ko ng Banal na Langis dahil nakapaghatid ako ng kaluluwa sa langit.
Kaya mula noon ay iyon na aking pinanghawakan lalo na ngayong naglilingkod ako bilang chaplain sa Fatima University Medical Center sa Valenzuela kung saan kada araw ng Linggo ay dinadalaw ko lahat ng pasyente pagkaraan ng Banal na Misa. Madalas sinasabi sa akin ng mga duktor at nars kapag mayroong pumapanaw na “hinintay lang po kayo, Father” kasi matapos ko silang pahiran ng langis o bigyan ng komunyon, bigla silang pumapanaw kahit wala sa ICU.
At nakapagtataka rin naman na sa tuwing mayroong hihiling ng dasal, kumpisal at pagpapahid ng langis, palagi naman ako ay naririto. Bihirang-bihira na mayroong magrequest ng sick call na ako ay wala. Kung sakali mang wala ako sa ospital o pamantasan, tiyak aabutan ko pa ang pasyente pagdating ko at saka papanaw.
Para sa akin, ang mga ito ay malinaw na pagpapahayag ng pag-ibig ng Diyos sa atin na palagi niyang tinitiyak sa langit tayo uuwi sa kahuli-hulihan. Kaya sigurado din ako, mas maraming namamatay ang sa langit napupunta o kaya sa purgatoryo muna kesa sa impiyerno maliban na lamang talaga na ayaw ng sino man sa Diyos. Mismo si Jesus ang nagsabi noon:
“Lalapit sa akin ang lahat ng ibinibigay sa akin ng Ama. At hindi ko itataboy ang sinumang lumalapit sa akin. Sapagkat ako’y bumaba mula sa langit, hindi upang gawin ang kalooban ko, kundi ang kalooban ng nagsugo sa akin. At ito ang kanyang kalooban: huwag kong pabayaang mawala kahit isa sa mga ibinigay niya sa akin, kundi muling buhayin sila sa huling araw.”
Juan 6:37-39
Larawan kuha ng may-akda, San Juan, La Union, Hulyo 2023.
Hindi tatawag ang Diyos ng sino mang hindi handa. Maski ito sa mga namatay ng biglaaan at sa aksidente. Kaya nga sa mga lamayan, madalas makuwento ng mga kaibigan at kaanak kung paanong tila nagpapaalam o naghahabilin ang namatay ilang araw o linggo bago siya pumanaw.
Tayo mismo makakaramdam kung tayo ay papanaw na dahil iyon ay biyaya na kaloob ng Diyos. Totoong totoo ito sa mga nakaratay sa banig ng karamdaman, iyong mga mayroong malubhang sakit (https://lordmychef.com/2023/11/08/giving-permission-to-die/).
Gayon pa man, isa pa ring malaking hiwaga ang kamatayan na kung saan sadyang ang Diyos lamang ang nakababatid kailan darating kanino man. Kaya naman, ang kahalagahan ng pamumuhay ng tunay at ganap palagi sa pag-amin at pagtanggap ng ating pagkatao, kasama na ating mga pagkakasala sa isa’t isa.
Isang bagay napagtanto ko sa buhay na kung kelan natin tanggap na tanggap ang mabuhay, doon din natin natatanggap ang mamatay. Kadalasan takot tayong mamatay kasi marami tayong dapat gawin na hindi pa natin ginagawa o palaging ipinagpapaliban. O, hindi matanggap.
Mahirap kapag marami tayong mga bagahe na dala-dala sa buhay. Mabigat at maganit ang buhay. Walang tuwa at kaganapan. Pero kung mga ito ay ating haharapin at bibitiwan, doon tayo namumuhay ng tunay at ganap kaya sa mabuhay at mamatay, hindi na mahalaga sa atin gaya ng pahayag ni San Pablo (Fil. 1:21-23). Kung saan mayroong kaganapan, naroon ang Diyos, naroon din ang katiwasayan at kapayapaan. Kapag walang kaganapan, tiyak naroon ang mga takot at panghihinayang. Mahirap at mabigat.
Larawan kuha ng may-akda, San Juan, La Union, Hulyo 2023.
Ang langit, maging impiyerno, ay hindi lamang lunan kungdi katayuan sa buhay, kundisyon o sitwasyon. Kung habang tao nabubuhay at dama nating langit ang buhay sa kabila ng mga pasakit, langit nga ang tungo natin kapag namatay. Ngunit kung habang tayo ay nabubuhay at pakiramdam ay impiyerno ang buhay, kahit maraming pera at karangyaan, mga kaibigan at kung sinu-sino kasama natin, impiyerno nga ating tutunguhan.
Ang mabuting balita ay ito: nasa kamay natin ang pagpapasya. Lahat ay ibig pumunta sa langit ngunit, nakahanda ba tayo sa mga bagay-bagay, maging mga tao at kung sinu-sino na kaya nating talikuran at iwanan upang magkaroon ng kapayapaan at katiwasayan sa kalooban?
Madaling sabihin ngunit sa aking napagtanto, ang buhay ay araw-araw na munting pagkamatay sa ating sarili hanggang sa tayo ay masaid at mapuno ng Diyos. Iyon ang kabanalan – mapuno, mapuspos ng Diyos. Hindi ng mga bagay-bagay at kung sinu-sino. Kaya sa kahuli-hulihan, kapag nalagot na ating mga hininga at tayo ay pumanaw, doon na rin ang kaganapan ng pagpasok natin sa langit. Mapagpalang araw sa iyo, Bai!
*Narito isang awit na paborito ko noong dekada 90 mula sa AfterImage.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 23 October 2023
The president of our hospital where I serve as chaplain posted yesterday a beautiful reflection on his Facebook page about the war and hostilities in Gaza, calling on everyone to pray hard for its peaceful resolution.
What touched me was when he said, “I am a doctor and in my heart of hearts, I feel that hospitals should enjoy certain exemptions. I wish then as now, that hospitals should never have their electricity or water cut-off… I am thankful that the hospital I work in is not in any immediate danger of being bombed. Life is already fragile as it is.”
As I have been telling you, I am a hospital chaplain. And like our president, in my heart of hearts, hospitals should be exempted from any form of violent attacks at all times. Wherever.
The word “hospital” is from the Latin word hospis which means “to welcome” from which “hospitality” also came from.
Since my assignment as chaplain at the Fatima University Medical Center in Valenzuela in February 2021, I have realized it was only then have I truly “welcomed” human mortality, both as an individual and a member of the human race. I must confess that it was only when I became a hospital chaplain have I realized in the most existential manner the meaning of being mortal, that someday I could be one of those patients lying on those beds with tubes and monitors attached to my body, perhaps in coma. During these past two years of visiting our patients every Sunday, sometimes daily or at the middle of the night or early morning when that Latin phrase memento mori – “remember you must die” – has become so true like the sword of Damocles hanging over my head always.
But, it was also during these past two years as a hospital chaplain have I discovered the amazing beauty and wonder of human life, of every person. It is only now at age 58 I have experienced the true meaning of a baby as “a bundle of joy”, of how great are the love and courage of a mother in delivering an infant. It was in our hospital where I experienced that life, indeed, is precious because it is fragile and vulnerable that so moved me in pity, even cried at seeing patients so sick, so close to death, whether a new-born infant or a 90 year-old. I am most thankful to God in making me experience his mysterium fascinans in our hospital where I am awed in the most wonderful way of finding how the human spirit fight for life, assert life and choose or find life rather than death. And when it becomes inevitable, that great wonder of faith and hope within in facing and accepting life’s end here on earth to move on to eternity in God, whatever name he is called by anyone.
Photo by author, Sinai desert in Egypt, 2019.
When I saw the news of that bombing of a hospital in Gaza, I felt something deeply different within me. At first, I wanted to get angry and curse whoever did that. What the Hamas did in starting this war was totally inhuman and unacceptable but whoever caused that hospital attack is bringing this conflict including humanity in general, to the lowest level. (It is still disputed whether it was an airstrike by Israel which they deny or a misfired rocket of the Palestinian Islamic Jihad they also deny.)
Every time I would see footages of Gaza’s overcrowded hospitals said to be at their “breaking point” due to great number of patients, I could feel as if my heart is being rend apart, teared into pieces because every hospital is like a church building or a place of worship were everybody is supposed to be welcomed to be whole again, to be healed, and most of all, to be cared at. Like churches and any place of worship, a hospital is a sanctuary for humanity, a hallowed ground where a burning bush of Moses is planted somewhere. Any act of violence in a hospital anywhere in the world is a total disregard of life and the human person, a sad reminder not only of our inhumanity but also of how can be “unhuman” too.
Very close in sound to hospis is another Latin word, hostis, meaning “enemy” from which came the words “hostage” and “hostile”. When hospitals are held hostage in war or any other situation, then it becomes a most serious and severe blow to humanity because it means we have closed all doors in welcoming each other, that we have decided to live on our own in total disregard of one another. I pray that wherever there is a war going on, enemies spare hospitals of their hatred where they can always feel welcomed and hopefully, be reawakened of our being brothers and sisters in one God we call in different names.
May our hospitals remind us this whole planet we all share as our one home is a sacred ground, whether in war or in peace, where humanity triumphs even in small packets because life is held holy and divine, a gift and sharing in the life of God. Amen. Let us keep praying and working for peace everywhere.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 18 October 2023
Photo courtesy of Fr. Herbert Bacani, Parish Priest of Immaculate Conception Quasi-Parish in Marungko, Angat, Bulacan, 15 October 2023.. When the pastor is properly dressed, his servers follow; surely, the parishioners are not far behind.
Thank you very much for the warm reception to our reflection last Sunday on the parable of the wedding garment when we took as cue the lack of sense these days of dressing properly even among us priests. So glad many priests reflected too along the same line in their homilies last Sunday. And the message is very clear: we priests have to set the example in dressing properly and decently at all times.
Methinks this deterioration in manner of dressing of people has a direct correlation with the clergy’s “undressing” of their cassocks and clerical shirts after Vatican II’s reforms they have abused and misconstrued into something else. No wonder, it started too the downward slide of credibility of clergy made worst by the reports of sexual abuses.
Photo courtesy of Fr. Len Hernandez taken during our 25th anniversary with Bp. Dennis at his chapel, 18 April 2023.
What a shame and pity when people comment how some priests not looking as priests at all at the way they dress. Some at the extreme have become so secular with their worldly fashion senses of designer clothes, jewelries even bling-blings with high end cars and gadgets who look like actors and models than priests while at the other end are those lost hippies or beatniks and rebels of no cause at all with their long hair, maong pants and sneakers in vain efforts to do liberation theology yet too far from the masses.
Again, many will argue our personhood does not depend on our outside appearances like clothes. Of course but not absolutely true! Jesus himself had taught us in the parable of the wedding garment last Sunday that dressing properly is an imperative because whatever is seen outside is always indicative of what is inside. If we, especially us priests, could not even look good outside, how can others believe we are good inside? Besides, if we could not even dress up decently for any occasion, how can we be expected to fulfill other greater things in life? Remember the Lord’s reminder, “The person who is trustworthy in very small matters is also trustworthy in great ones; and the person who is dishonest in very small matters is also dishonest in great ones” (Lk. 16:10).
When I was in my second year in seminary formation, our former teacher in elementary school, the late Miss Santiago saw me on my way to serve in the Mass at our parish church. When she saw me perspiring a lot, she said, “Naku, Nicanor! Iyang pagsusuot pa lang ng sutana pala e malaking sakripisyo na sa inyo? E basang basa ka na ng pawis.” That compliment by one of our kindest teacher has been etched in my heart ever since, teaching me that valuable lesson that our cassock in itself is a homily. That is why in teaching communications in the seminary, I have always insisted to seminarians that the priest himself – his clothes, his hair, his language and everything – is a sign of God before the people. Hence, I have offered them with these simple propositions:
If the priest is not that good looking and his homily is also not that good and then he comes poorly dressed during the Mass, what would people think? What an ugly God we have! Ang pangit naman ng Diyos!
If the priest is not that good looking, his homily is also not that good but his vestments are beautiful as St. John Vianney would say are a homily in itself, then people are at least consoled to have a glimpse of God’s beauty.
If the priest is not that good looking but his homily is good complemented with his beautiful vestments, people are blessed as they feel God is indeed so good all the time.
If the priest is good looking, his homily is well prepared and prayed for with his matching beautiful vestments, people joyously sing “alleluia!” in their hearts as they are touched by God.
In 403 AD, St. Augustine wrote a catechism manual for his deacon named Deogratias called De Catechizandis Rudibus (On Catechizing Beginners) in preparing candidates for Baptism. Its most important lesson is found at the last part of the thick book when St. Augustine told Deogratias to always remember “the teacher/catechist is the lesson himself/herself.”
In the same manner, the priest is always the homily himself whatever he is doing and especially wearing, 24/7. There is no way of dissecting our being a priest from our being individuals and citizens; everything in us will always be seen and measured in Jesus Christ our eternal Priest and Master. That is why last Sunday in the parable of the wedding garment, Jesus taught us also of the need to be conformed in him, to be like him.
How can we priests demand people to dress properly in coming to the celebration of the Eucharist when we priests are the ones shabbily dressed?
What a shame when priests give as pretexts for not wearing the prescribed garbs because of the hot weather in the country or to be more attuned with the people we celebrate Mass with like the poor. Where is our sense of sacrifice? It is as if saying we are awaiting autumn and winter in the country before we could wear our cassocks and albs and vestments! And for those who insist on being one with the poor that they wear the simplistic white chasuble and stole, I say it is a disgrace because those who have less in life must have more of God. Mahirap na nga sila, titipirin pa natin sa magagandang gamit at damit natin?
How can we be vessels of God’s grace and blessings when we are untidy and dugyot at the altar and after the Mass?
Pinning and capping ceremony of our nursing students, Our Lady of Fatima University-Valenzuela City with our faculty members acting as Florence of Nightingale, 2022.
Another pretext many priests use for not wearing the proper clothes in their ministry is practicality which is essentially the capital sin called sloth. How could a priest bless a car or a store or a house no matter how small they may be with just a stole without an alb and still get stipend meant in part so he can be decently dressed? Where is our effort in serving the people if not in proper attire?
The worst case of priests along with their sacristan not dressed properly is in the celebration of the Mass for a wedding. It is so unfair and unjust when priests do not take time to consider polishing the minute details of the Mass for God’s sake as his signs and channels of grace for those embarking on a lifelong journey in Christ as husband and wife.
In my 25 years as a priest, I have always prayed for my family and friends to also love my priesthood. I think the same holds true for the people who need to embrace our priesthood, not us priests! If you love our priesthood, then, you will love our cassocks and albs and chasubles and clerical shirt too. Demand that inasmuch as we must prepare our homily, we must also prepare for our vestments. Inasmuch as you help us to be good, help us to look good too in representing Jesus Christ here on earth, reminding you of eternal life and bliss.
We live in so different a time than before where sentiments against the Church and her clergy are growing. This situation calls us priests to strive harder as witnesses and reminders of Jesus Christ. And that begins with the way we dress, the simplest and most basic sign of our identity.
Me during my conferral of the cassock, June 1991, Immaculate Conception Major Seminary in Guiguinto, Bulacan.
One of my unforgettable moments in my vocation history happened in 1991 when I returned to the seminary, nine years after being told to leave in 1982. That Sunday afternoon after being conferred with the white cassock, I felt something so different inside me as if telling God like the Prophet Isaiah, “Here I am, send me” (Is. 6:8).
The same prophet reminds us priests whenever we wear our priestly garments for the liturgy and ministry of that great song to God, “I will rejoice heartily in in the Lord, my being exults in my God; for he had clothed me garments of salvation, and wrapped me in a robe of justice, like a bridegroom adorned with a diadem, as a bride adorns herself with her jewels” (Is. 61:10). Let us sing that song rejoicingly, heartily! Amen.
This is a long overdue prayer-reflection, a fruit of one of my prayer periods during that week leading to October first when the gospel was the parable of the two sons (26th Sunday in Ordinary Time).
Jesus said to the chief priests and elders of the people: “What is your opinion? A man had two sons. He came to the first and said, ‘Son, go out and work in the vineyard today.’ He said in reply, ‘I will not,’ but afterwards he changed his mind and went. The man came to the other son and gave the same order. He said in reply, ‘Yes, sir’ but did not go.
Matthew 21:28-30
It was a Thursday, my day off I normally spend with a Holy Hour at the chapel of the PDDM Sisters at James Alberione Center in Araneta Ave., Quezon City. I usually present to God my Sunday homily every Thursday but that afternoon, I did not feel good. Maybe partly due to the weather that was so humid worsened by the afternoon drizzle. That was when I felt God telling me something about being “scattered” in life.
The word “scattered” has very picturesque translations in Filipino, sabog and kalat-kalat. Sabog is the direct translation of “scattered brain” or one who is disorganized and forgetful, could not think well clearly. Hence, sabog is also used to describe someone who is high on drugs or simply drunk and could not think seriously of everything. It came from the literal meaning of sabog which is an “explosion”.
Photo by author, summer 2021.
On the other hand, kalat-kalat means the same as sabog, could not think well because one is disorganized and messy, the literal meaning of kalat that may refer too to trash and dirt.
Many times we are like the two sons who were both scattered because their lives were not in order, both so concerned with one’s self, forgetting their father including their livelihood which is the vineyard. Many times in life, we get so focused with tasks and duties as well as obligations that we forget our relationships, forgetting the persons for whom our work are intended. That is why we also feel at a loss as we miss our bearings in life that are our relationships with God, with others and with one’s self.
Both sons indicated strained relations with their father. The elder son outrightly refused his father’s order because he did not see him that important, perhaps due to anger and resentments he harbored against him although deep down inside, he loves his father. That is why he was bothered by his conscience and later obeyed his father to work at their vineyard.
The younger son, on the other hand, was also scattered because his ego was so bloated in appearing so good to their father. He readily said yes to their father’s order just to look good before him but never fulfilled it because he never really had that deep love and respect for him.
Photo by author, 2022.
The first sign of being scattered, of being kalat-kalat is when we talk a lot that put us into trouble not necessarily with others but primarily with our self like the first son. We feel our inconsistencies and incongruence within ourselves with what we believe, what we know as right and good. We realize we are not walking our talk because of the great mess we are into, the mess around us like negative and other selfish thoughts that flood us. And all we wanted to do is to “pick up the pieces” of our selves, of our lives, and of our relationships. With God and with others.
Being scattered is something like a “soft depression” caused by burn out and lack of recreation and rest, a sign we have been losing grip of ourselves that we have to reassess anew our priorities and values in life. And always, the first person we forget is our very self as we get sickly, feel exhausted and tired easily, even grouchy and irritable for trivial even no apparent reasons at all.
First thing to do when we feel scattered is to naturally gather our self. Distance from our usual routine and people. Have that postponed medical check-up. And have quality “me time” like a movie or a short out-of-town vacation. We need to empty ourselves to be filled anew with God and his grace. Like Jesus, we need to go to a deserted place by ourselves, literally and figuratively speaking.
To gather one’s self is an invitation from God himself for more intense prayers to bond again in Jesus by laying aside all our plans and goals, forgetting all about ourselves even of others for a while to ask the Lord what he wants from us. It is easy to claim and convince ourselves what we are doing are for the Lord but the real thing necessary is that we simply do his works!
Christ had repeatedly said that “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters” (Lk. 11:23 or Mt. 12:30). If what we are doing are the works of the Lord, there will always be joy and fulfillment. Even despite difficulties and exhaustion.
Photo by author, 2022.
Overall, this feeling of being scattered is an invitation from God himself for us to put him back at the center of our lives and we start doing his works that are often simpler than what we envision and plan. Whenever there is this feeling of being scattered, I pray:
God our loving Father,
help me find my way back home
to you in Jesus your Son;
many times I talk too much,
even write a lot about you
and for you but often,
they are for me too
and against others;
help me, dear Father
in this mess and disorder;
when you created the world,
everything was in chaos;
breathed into me your
Holy Spirit
to make me alive again
in you and for you,
doing your work,
obeying your will
in the way you want it,
not mine.
Amen.
Yes! I have proven this most truest when we pray for the sick, especially for babies and children. And when we are also sick or, very sick.
The late Fr. Henri Nouwen said in one of his writings that “life is precious because it is fragile.” I have gradually grasped and experienced this most wonderful truth of life only these past two years when I was assigned as chaplain at the Fatima University Medical Center in Valenzuela City.
Every Sunday after Mass at the University chapel, I visit our patients to bring them communion (viaticum), hear their confessions and anoint them with oil. One of our patients last Sunday was a young mother named Rachel who delivered a sickly baby boy Saturday with difficulties in breathing.
Rachel was crying when we entered her room. After receiving the Communion, she asked me to visit and pray over her baby at the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU). I readily said yes to her request then asked her if I can baptize her baby and what name would she like to give him. “Daniel Steven, Father,” she said softly as she wiped her tears.
After putting on my hairnet and gown and slippers, the nurse led me inside the NICU where I saw two doctors and three nurses gathered around Rachel’s baby. Soon enough, both doctors came to me to explain the delicate – “toxic” – situation of the infant as we walked closer to him.
It was “solemnly silent” inside the NICU that morning with the warm light above the baby giving that holy feel like being before a Belen or a creche; the scene was so “disarming” that I just felt praying to God deeply from my heart, begging him to please bless and heal this baby who is much like Jesus Christ who was right away subjected to dangers upon birth in Bethlehem. I prayed too to God to remember Christ’s special love and concern for children, warning anyone who would harm them that angels look after them (Mt. 18:10) to keep them safe always.
At that moment, the baby opened his eyes – and sparkled as I saw his face lit up despite the little tubes connected to him. At that instance, I just felt something like a giant wave gushing within me like a tsunami and, boom! I burst into tears as if that giant wave inside washed me.
It was a very good cry, like a catharsis, so pure that seemed to have cleansed me resulting in joy within with the baby seemed to be looking at me, making sounds from his little mouth.
“My God, did he hear me praying?” I asked myself while standing there, praying with my arms still outstretched as tears rolled profusely to my face mask. After a few minutes, I wiped my tears and came forward to pour Holy Water on his head, saying, “I baptize you, Daniel Steven, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”
I have visited many sick children in our hospital with the most unique even bizarre sickness and diseases and accidents. They have all moved me in pity but it was only Daniel Steven who had made me cry.
That moment when he opened his eyes and “looked” at me even though I knew infants could not recognize nor actually see, I felt God was ultimately the one really looking at me, listening to my prayers. At the same time, it was then when God fully opened my eyes and my heart to see him in baby Daniel as the One always listening to our prayers especially when we are facing dangers like death – the greatest and ultimate danger we all face in life. It is in such moments of great dangers when God is most closest to us in Jesus Christ who became human like us to be one with us in everything including death (but except sin).
Less than 80 days from now it would be Christmas but, have we realized this reality of how Jesus Christ have seriously faced death right after his birth being born in an “unsanitary” manger to being transported in harsh conditions to Egypt when Herod tried to kill him?
It is in sufferings and death when we truly experience the preciousness of life, the value of every person, no matter how small like a child or how old like any senior citizen. It is in the face of death when we are most human, truly and naturally weak and fragile that we also realize deeply, existentially the meaning of being alive when we are close to its end. That is when we feel life is precious because that is also when we feel it slipping away from us, slowly losing it.
That fragility of life is most evident when we struggle for breath, gasp for air, and reach out to someone’s hands to hold and clasp in order to rise again, to cling to another human and simply to be alive. From that we experience life’s meaning and value when it is shared and lived in God who is life himself through others. That is why we also feel closest to him at those moments when we see those sick and suffering and dying when we are close to God who comes most nearest to us in those grave moments.
Back in 2007 when I was in my first assignment as one of the teacher-administrators of a school in Malolos while we concurrently ran a parish, I felt burned out being there since 1998. One Friday afternoon during a Holy Hour, I begged God to give me one good reason why I should stay in that assignment when I was asked to answer a sick call in a nearby hospital. When I got in the hospital, the doctors and nurses were resuscitating the patient I was supposed to anoint.
Quickly upon seeing me, they let me come to the patient to pray over him and anoint him with oil. After that, I stayed in the room to watch the doctors and nurses struggled to revive the patient. Then another doctor arrived who turned out to be the son-in-law of the dying patient (also an ex-seminarian ahead of me in the minor seminary). After conversing with them, that doctor told them to stop the procedures as he would explain everything to his wife, the daughter of the patient.
Soon enough, the patient flatlined and died. His son-in-law called me and told me the patient had died and if I could bless him again. I did bless him again with Holy Water. As the doctor thanked me for being there at that crucial moment, I also thanked God for listening and answering my prayer in giving me a sign why I should remain in my assignment. What a precious sign he had given me, the first patient I have seen dying in front of me.
Now as a hospital chaplain, I have lost tracked of how many patients have died before me after praying and anointing them. But in each one of them, I have felt God present among us, saving their souls in eternity. But most of them, God had kept alive and healthy until now because he always listens to our prayers. Amen.
Photo by Mr. Red Santiago of his son Cayden praying in our former parish in January 2020.
*Daniel Steven is still in the NICU, fighting for his life that is so fragile, so delicate. And most precious. Doctors said these first 72 hours are very crucial. Please help us pray for him so he would get better and live life into maturity like most of us. Thank you.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 20 September 2023
Photo by Mr. Ryan John Jacob, December 2022.
Every time we pray is a moment of grace from God, not only to the one praying or pray-er but most of all to others. To see somebody at prayer is a sight filled with great wonder and blessings from God because every prayer period is a divine operation.
Please don’t get me wrong. Whenever we pray and others see us, it always has an effect on them. Many times we have heard some people saying nasty things at the sight of those deep in prayer especially here at social media with ready templates casting moral aspersions on pray-ers as hypocrites and show offs. People who do that most likely do not pray at all, do not know anything about prayer. Most likely, they are a variant of the self-righteous Pharisee in the Lord’s parable (Lk. 18:9-14). Prayer moments are founts of grace not only for pray-ers but for others as well.
My point is simple. Just keep praying. Follow your inner leading to pray, to stop by a church or a chapel, to kneel and make the Sign of the Cross because every time we pray, our prayer is already answered by God. Not only for us but for others too.
Photo by author, Our Lady of Fatima University, 13 September 2023.
The other day I shared with you how my mother had taught us how to pray. Today I share with you an aspect of prayer I have learned from my father who witnessed to us the essence and beauty of praying.
As far as I can remember in my early childhood days until I have become a priest, my immediate, unforgettable image of my dad is being a man of prayer, a man at prayer.
Every morning before he would go to office, I have seen him praying in front of our altar of Christ the King and Sacred Heart. It was a ritual I have come to unconsciously imitate that would start with the lighting of candles before the sacred images, after which he would genuflect making the Sign of the Cross in deep silence and as he rose after a few moments of pause, that is when he pulls out his Rosary. That’s every morning before leaving for work he had continued until his retirement.
When he comes home in the afternoon, his ritual began with washing himself to change clothes before going to the altar with the usual lighting of candles, silent genuflection while making the Sign of the Cross. He would leave the candles burning to go down and join us kids in front of the grotto to pray the Angelus at 6pm while listening to Radio Veritas.
On weekends, he did the same routine in the afternoon. Daddy spent Saturdays and Sundays doing his two favorite things, cooking in the morning and reading in the afternoon. Oh, he read everything from old newspapers and magazines to his many book collections and finally in the afternoon, his two staple reading companions – that big, red Holy Bible and that little green book called “My Spiritual Diary” by the Daughters of St. Paul which I could not remember where I have kept.
My mom and dad always together, our first teachers about God and prayer.
When people ask me how my vocation started, I tell them my parents never encouraged me to become a priest. In fact both were surprised when I sought their permission to enter the seminary after grade six. But, I believe it was my father who unconsciously planted the seeds of my priestly vocation when I would always see him praying since childhood.
When my only brother Willy, our youngest, was born prematurely at eight months in December 15, 1973, dad gathered us three siblings in our sala downstairs near his big escritorio to inform us of his condition, of how he was very sick inside the incubator and would have to stay longer in the hospital for treatment while my mom might come home before Christmas. Then he told us almost in whisper as his voice would crack that we pray hard for Willy and mommy. We did not understand then what he meant to pray hard. All I remembered was how that night I saw him in bed alone as my mother was still in GSIS Hospital (now East Avenue Medical Center), staring at the ceiling as he held his rosary on his chest. Decades later when I was back in the seminary, he told me that was the only time he really learned to pray hard when Willy was born prematurely. I never understood dad’s words of “praying hard” except that like him, I have tried to pray always.
Photo by author, Jerusalem, May 2019.
I have no claims to holiness for I am a sinner. And that is why I always pray even if at times I doubt my prayers or if God listens at all to me! But God never fails to console me at times when people tell me how they have learned to pray after seeing me prayed.
Parishioners notice us priests when we pray or not. Both here and abroad, I have heard lay people saying how they love seeing us priests pray because they are touched. Imagine that simple act of praying as a form of witnessing to Christ. What is wonderful is that parishioners learn to pray more for their priests when they see them praying which leads to more grace and blessings for everyone from God!
Of course, we pray not to be seen but prayer is our life as priests and lay alike. We are all blessed when we pray. Period. No one can judge if we are praying right except God. What matters is we keep praying. Hence, give us your priests those sacred space and sacred moments to pray most of all! Don’t invite us out at night anymore.
Though Jesus had instructed us that “when you pray, go into your inner room to pray in secret” (Mt.6:6ff), he does not tell us not to pray in public. What is essential in prayer is being true and humble before God, of going inside our selves – our inner room in secret – like in Christ’s parable of the proud Pharisee and sinful tax collector at the temple (Lk. 18:9-14).
Prayer is being one with God. We call it communion. It happens most truly when we pray and others see us that they too are moved to be one with God. And that is when communion starts to happen, when we truly follow Jesus as his disciples by praying together.
Photo by Mr. Red Santiago, January 2020.
He summoned the crowd with his disciples and said to them, “Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me. Whoever is ashamed of me and of my words in this faithless and sinful generation, the Son of Man will be ashamed of when he comes in his Father’s glory with the holy angels.”
Mark 8:34, 38
For us to be truly the Church, the Body of Christ, we have to be a community of disciples at prayer. Together. In Christ, with Christ, through Christ. Amen. Have a blessed and prayerful remaining half of the week!
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