Lord My Chef Daily Recipe for Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II First Friday, Thirty-first Week in Ordinary Time, Year II, 06 Novvember 2026 Philippians 3:17-14:1 ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> Luke 16:1-8
Photo by author, sunset at Subic Bay, 02 November 2026.
Praise and glory to you, Lord Jesus Christ in reminding me today through St. Paul to find directions in my life to heaven, our true home.
Join with others in being imitators of me, brothers and sisters, and observe those who thus conduct themselves according to the model you have in me. For many, as I have often told you and now tell you even in tears, conduct themselves as enemies of the cross of Christ. Their end is destruction. Their God is their stomach; their glory is in their “shame.” Their minds are occupied with earthly things. But our citizenship is in heaven, and from it we also await a savior; the Lord Jesus Christ (Philippians 3:17-20).
Give me, O Jesus, the courage and clarity to truly examine my life and confront myself with the kind of direction I am truly taking my life seen in what occupies my heart and attention, in what I really hunger and thirst for that bring me closer or away from you, Lord.
Most of all, awaken in me, Jesus, your light that I may always be wise like that steward in thinking ahead to do what is good, what is right in dealing with others because the way we treat others show the kind of pathway and direction we are following - are we alone on a highway concerned with one's self or with others on a two way street of respect and justice, kindness and care, love and understanding? Amen.
Photo by author, Cathedral Parish of Our Lady of Pillar, Imus, Cavite, 27 October 2026.
Photo by author, Don Bosco Batulao Retreat House, Batangas, April 2026.
You read it right: when I die, it is my wish that Steely Dan’s 1972 classic Do It Again shall be my funeral music. Aside from the fact that it was the first SD song I heard that started my fascination and love for this duo and their music, it speaks so well of my life that if I should live again, I will repeat everything. Just like Jack in Do It Again.
In the mornin' you go gunnin' for the man who stole your water And you fire 'til he is done in but they catch you at the border And the mourners are all singin' as they drag you by your feet But the hangman isn't hangin' and they put you on the street
You go back, Jack, do it again, wheel turnin' 'round and 'round You go back, Jack, do it again
When Walter Becker died on September 3, 2017, it was the last day of a retreat I facilitated for graduating high school students in Bustos, Bulacan. They were dumbfounded, wondering what had happened to me after hearing their confessions as I spoke of Becker and Steely Dan, singing and playing some of their songs they could hardly relate with. Soon, other musicians died along with actors and actresses whose music and films have shaped us during our growing up years that as a priest, I would include them in my prayers and Masses, hoping some day we could all jam in heaven!
Aside from praying for the souls of my favorite musicians on this All Saints’ Day and tomorrow’s All Souls’ Day, I thought of writing about Do It Again as my funeral song after watching a reel sent by a friend of an imaginary movie of someone dying with this opening track from Steely Dan’s debut album Can’t Buy a Thrill. My friend who sent that said he would have My Old School; but, as I have said, I will have Do It Again.
I must confess I never truly understood the meanings of the SD songs I used to hear and listened to while growing up except that they were all weird and odd like me while at the same time smooth and sophisticated. For me, what matters most always is when the music and lyrics jibe – something Walter and Donald Fagen perfected so well, putting them on top of the pantheon of gods of music.
As I matured, I realized, like me, SD music is deep and profound. Yes, surreal and psychedelic that an aunt (may she rest in peace) used to ask me how would I become a priest while listening to such kind of music. But, I eventually became a priest, still a Danhead! (You should see how some people react when they ask me explain the origin and meaning of Steely Dan.)
Going back to “Do It Again”, it is one of those tracks that I listen to every time I drive because the Remastered Best of Steely Dan is the only CD in my player. Of course I have a USB with other music but every time I drive, Walter and Donald with their fellow gods accompany me in my trips.
Before the Smiths came whom I also love, Steely Dan were there first to “romanticize” life’s many failures and disasters. Alex Pappademas is right after all when he wrote in “Quantum Criminals” that we are actually Jack in Do It Again – the gambler always losing, the one always caught in the crossfires of every battle in life but still somehow survives that hence, we do it again.
That is what I like most with Walter and Donald: they can express truly what we feel in every failures and losses we have had without pinning us down; instead, in their perfectionist music, we feel uplifted that like Jack, we just do it again like in our failed relationships – whether our own fault or others fault. Just choose for yourself and still be consoled, Jack….
When you know she's no high climber then you find your only friend In a room with your two-timer, and you're sure you're near the end Then you love a little wild one and she brings you only sorrow All the time you know she's smilin' you'll be on your knees tomorrow, yeah
You go back, Jack, do it again, wheel turnin' 'round and 'round You go back, Jack, do it again
I have realized in life that coming to terms with death is coming to terms with life. And vice versa. The moment we start living fully, meaningfully, authentically, that is when we befriend death. That is when we truly become free from others say, from everything that enslaves you to fully become free as your true self.
Now you swear and kick and beg us that you're not a gamblin' man Then you find you're back in Vegas with a handle in your hand Your black cards can make you money so you hide them when you're able In the land of milk and honey, you must put them on the table
You go back, Jack, do it again, wheels turnin' 'round and 'round You go back, Jack, do it again
I have no claims to greatness nor holiness. I am just like Jack and at this stage of my life at 61 years old, 28 years as a priest, if given a chance to live again, I will do everything again. Yes, still be a priest. And a Danhead. Even perhaps add more mischiefs for more lessons and adventures and fun. Like Jack and the rest of the gang we have come to know as Steely Dan. To all Steely Dan fans, hail! For those wondering what is this all about, listen.
Lord My Chef Daily Recipe for Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II Tuesday, Twenty-Third Week in Ordinary Time, Year II Feast of the Nativity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 08 September 2026 Micah 5:1-4 ><]]]]*> + ><]]]]*> + ><]]]]*> Matthew 1:18-23
“The Birth of the Blessed Virgin Mary”, a 1305 painting by Renaissance artist Giotto in the Scrovegni Chapel in Padua, Italy. The two babies depicted are both the Virgin Mary: below is Mary upon birth wrapped in swaddling cloth and washed by attendants and then above being handed to St. Anne her mother. Photo from en.wikipedia.org.
Feasts of saints are often based on the date of their death when they enter eternal life; sometimes it may also be the date when their remains were transferred for proper burial.
There are only three birthdays we celebrate in our liturgy, two are of the highest order as a Solemnity, our Lord Jesus Christ on December 25 and his precursor St. John the Baptist on June 24; the third is that of the Blessed Virgin Mary which is a rank lower as a Feast, falling on this date, eighth of September which is nine months after her Immaculate Conception.
In this age of social media when every platform has its unique way of alerting everyone of someone’s birthday so that nobody can no longer hide to celebrate silently one’s birthday, the Blessed Mother’s nativity offers us a beautiful opportunity to reflect on the significance of a birthday always seen in relation with Jesus Christ’s birth and coming. St. John Paul II perfectly expressed this in his 1995 Encyclical Evangelium Vitae (The Gospel of Life), declaring that “Every birthday is a small Christmas because with the birth of every person comes Jesus Christ” (sorry I can’t recall the citation).
What makes that so true with every birthday beginning with the Blessed Virgin Mary is God’s great mystery of becoming small, of being “insignificant” in the birth of his Son Jesus Christ which we find even in his birthplace prophesied by Micah:
“You, Bethlehem-Ephrathah too small to be among the clans of Judah, from you shall come forth for me one who is to be ruler in Israel; whose origin is from of old, from ancient times” (Micah 5:1).
Photo by Ar. Philip Santiago, Angels’ Field Chapel in Bethlehem, October 2025.
And if we go further, this true greatness of Jesus Christ in being small is found also in his Mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary who came from the obscure town of Nazareth, the only place in the New Testament never mentioned in the Old Testament.
Recall how Nathanael or Bartholomew the Apostle belittled the Lord’s hometown after being told by Philip that they have found the Messiah from Nazareth, saying, “Can anything good come from Nazareth?” (Jn.1:46) because Nazareth was totally unknown during that time.
And so was Mary!
That is why it is so disappointing and sad when many Catholics unfortunately led by some priests have the misimpression of portraying Mary as a “beauty queen” with flawless skin and Western features when she is clearly Middle Eastern woman. Worst of all is the pomp and pageantries we have in the recent fads of processions and coronations in many dioceses and parishes.
Photo by author, St. Paul Spiritual & Renewal Center, Bgy. Tanyawak, Alfonso, Cavite, 19 August 2026.
How sad we have missed the Blessed Virgin Mary as the model disciple of Jesus was the first to embody his teaching of being small like little children with her simplicity and humility so very well expressed in her 20th century apparitions in Fatima, Portugal and Banneux, Belgium.
Enough with the extravagant sometimes imeldific celebrations of Marian feasts and events that have become egregious display of wealth and power.
Being simple and small like Mary, both as a child and as an adult, enable us to see again the value of life and of every person.
Aside from the lack of any account on the birth of Mary, we heard proclaimed today the birth of Jesus to teach us that truth expressed by St. John Paul II that in every person Jesus actually comes. The more simple and true we are like Mary and Joseph, the more Jesus is seen and experienced in us!
That is why when we greet somebody a “happy birthday”, what we really mean telling him/her is “I love you, I thank you for making me who I am today.” Through one’s simplicity and littleness in Christ, we are transformed into better persons because we are able to have glimpse of God’s love and kindness.
The true joy of celebrating a birthday is not found in the externalities of gifts and parties and guests with all the fun that come along but in the silent, prayerful reflection of our life’s beginning and direction into eternal life. See how there are still people who only celebrate Mass on two occasions each year – on their birthday and on Christmas, a clear recognition of our origin and direction in Christ in life.
Photo by author, Sacred Heart Novitiate, Novaliches, QC, March 2023.
In the birth of Jesus Christ, we are reminded by every birthday that life is precious because it is so fragile – any infant and every person can be easily hurt and harmed, be sick and eventually die.
Like Mary and Joseph, the little Child born in Bethlehem asks us, even begs us to take care of him found in everyone among us.
Let us be more loving and kind, understanding and caring, even merciful and forgiving with one another especially in this time of calamities.
Such is the wisdom of God in making life small and fragile so that we may care and value it because there lies also its greatness. The best birthday greeting we can express to the Blessed Mother Mary today is to start being small and simple like her to share Jesus with everyone. Not with those many cakes we buy and “offer” – tayo rin naman kakain!Amen.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 20 August 2026
How amazing, O Lord Jesus that when it is already evening, when darkness is all around us, that is when you are actually inside us, if we could just open our hearts and eyes of faith then we shall see you truly our Light glowing within, bringing warmth and joy.
Many times in our darkness we lose sight not only of you, Lord Jesus but also of our self that away from you we lose our identity and let our job and tasks define us or worst, our possessions and achievements as well as pains and hurts; we cave into our darkness within not seeing your wounded handed touching me holding me unmindful of your holding me, loving me.
When things get dark and we can’t see anything teach me Jesus to listen to your silence to feel your presence sense your movements follow your steps waiting trusting self-emptying.
Most of all, Jesus, help me emulate your Mother our Mother too, Mary most holy, to remain focused on you cusping you in my palms when all is dark holding on to your words believing they shall be fulfilled when I remain and stay with you there on the Cross. Amen.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 20 August 2026
Photo by author, Anvaya Resort, Bataan, 21 July 2026.
Let me come home to you, Lord God: to gaze in your loving eyes anew, be wrapped around with your tight embrace without being judged nor blamed.
Let me come home to you, Lord God: with nothing at all, to be poor of material wealth and rich in Spirit and virtues, empty of pride, filled with your humility and simplicity so scarce of everything abundant in you and your love.
Let me come home to you, Lord God: no longer afraid of the dark and everything not yet known and seen, nor terrified of great waves of tasks and duties, of strong winds like what people think and say about me because in you alone is my certainty as well as safety and security.
Photo by author, Pundaquit, San Antonio, Zambales, 15 May 2025.
Let me come home to you, Lord God: to be nourished by your words that give life and meaning, to be quenched of my thirst with your living water that restores my being, cleanses me of my sins and shame.
Let me come home to you, Lord God: to rest in you, be at home in you because you are my origin, my root my home my peace my destination in this long journey in life for you are my Lord and my God. Amen.
Photo by author, San Juan, La Union, 09 January 2026.
Lord My Chef Sunday Recipe for Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II Eighteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A, 02 August 2026 Isaiah 55:1-3 ><}}}}*> Romans 8:35, 37-39 ><}}}}*> Matthew 14:13-21
Photo by author, Anvaya Cove Resort, Morong, Bataan 21 July 2026.
Salamuch July, hello August! Though this eighth month of the year is named after the Roman emperor Augustus, August actually came from the Latin word augustus meaning venerable; used as an adjective, it describes something as majestic and grand like when we say “august halls” or “august chambers” of power and justice.
So, please stop demonizing August as “ghost month” which is a pagan belief. For us Christians who affirmed last Sunday to Jesus that we have “understood” very well his parables, Matthew challenges us this August not only how well we have understood the parables on the kingdom of heaven but most especially how much do we know and love and trust Jesus the Christ.
Photo by a friend living in Washington state, 28 July 2026.
From the shores of Galilee, Matthew now brings us to the wilderness with Jesus where he fed more than five thousand people from a few loaves of bread and pieces of fish.
When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick. When it was evening, the disciples approached him and said, “This is a deserted place and it is already late; dismiss the crowds so that they can go to the villages and buy food for themselves.” Jesus said to them, “There is no need for them to go away; give them some food yourselves.” But they said to him, “Five loaves and two fish are all we have here.” Then he said, “Bring them here to me,” and he ordered the crowds to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish, and looking up to heaven, he said the blessing, broke the loaves, and gave them to the disciples, who in turn gave them to the crowds. They all ate and were satisfied, and they picked up the fragments left over – twelve wicker baskets full (Matthew 14:15-20).
See again that distinctive detail Matthew shares with us when Jesus saw the crowds who have followed him and his disciples to the other side of the lake: his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick. That is how great is the love of Jesus for each of us. He is always moved with pity which is more than a feeling but of actually doing something, even a miracle for us like in this scene in the wilderness.
Life is a wilderness. So vast and uncertain. But, lovely and beautiful. Not really august but grand and majestic, so difficult to explain, often ambiguous, largely mysterious. Even captivating. That is why it is always good to be alive even if life is difficult.
Last Thursday I officiated at the funeral Mass of another best friend from our minor (high school) seminary. In fact, Jonas was my classmate way back in second grade who partly inspired me to become a priest. He is my second best friend after Gil also from the seminary whom I have accompanied spiritually in life and at their deathbeds. Before going to his funeral at prayer in my room, I asked God if I would still have friends alive to attend my own funeral?
The mystery deepened after we have laid Jonas to his final resting place when a few hours later his mother-in-law – the mother of his widow – died too! Imagine the devastation to my friend’s wife who has not rested yet after taking care of him for a month in the hospital then her mother died too? And to their only child just starting her career as a medical doctor?
Photo by a friend living in Washington state, 28 July 2026.
Many times Jesus teases us.
Or seduces us as the Prophet Jeremiah insisted on how God lured him to following him despite the many hurts and pains he had to go through but could not turn away from him because he had grown to loving him so much too.
Like the people who followed Jesus to the wilderness, we gather every Sunday to listen to his words and share in his Body and Blood because we have felt so empty in life that only him could fulfill us.
But, that is so easy to claim as we can readily profess our faith in God, in Jesus Christ but it is different when it is borne out of a wilderness experience like the disciples.
How many times have we felt like them thinking more of our selves than others when in a difficult situation, telling Jesus to send the people home because it was getting late and dark; most of all, so that they could get food for themselves?
It was easy for the crowd to just come to Jesus and think only of themselves but not with the disciples – like our parents, our kuya or ate, our superiors, or those people we look up to with responsibilities over us. That is why be kind with those in positions too. So easy to accuse them of their shortcomings and worst, to spread gossips when we do not realize the enormous weight they carry on their shoulders.
The equation becomes different and heaviest when Jesus tells us to “give them some food yourselves”. It is scary because at that moment Jesus asks us too of “what do you have” which we already knew beforehand as too little. Not enough. Just five loaves of bread and three pieces of fish.
Recall those moments you knew so well your limits, you capacity. And that’s when you start regretting why you have accepted the position or why have you volunteered at all or perhaps why become a priest or why got married?
Photo by author, Anvaya Cove Resort, Morong, Bataan 21 July 2026.
Life is a wilderness that looks so lovely with its sunrise and sunsets but in between, it is so difficult. Because it is in the wilderness of this life when we truly come face to face with the harsh realities of our insecurities and inadequacies, scarcity and emptiness.
But Jesus shows us today that wilderness too becomes our grace-filled moment when he asks us to bring to him whatever little we have. It is the crucial point, turning point when we have to choose between turning to Jesus and trusting his instructions or retreating to our selves, to what we have or believing more to what the world offers.
Let us choose to radically believe in Jesus by surrendering to him whatever we have.
Photo by Mr. Nicko Timbol, OLFU Campus Ministry, 25 October 2025.
This is actually an extension of his question last Sunday, “Do you understand all these things?”
As we have reflected last week, to understand in Filipino is “maunawaan” from the root word “una” which is to be first. To understand the parables of the kingdom of heaven is to entrust ourselves to Jesus completely, to surrender even the little that we have, including our fears and insecurities.
That is why in the first reading God tells us through Isaiah to “come to him” to eat the true bread and drink true water fulfilled in Jesus Christ his Son. To understand all these things is to be convinced that in this life, only God suffices. He alone in Jesus Christ can fulfill our deepest desires and longings like peace and joy, love and hope, all the real reasons for living. Not things. Or even persons and relationships that do not last, often manipulative because not rooted in Christ.
This Sunday, let us not be ashamed of the little that we have, the worst that we have. For as long as we have Jesus, there is nothing that we cannot accomplish nor be fulfilled. St. Paul said so well in the second reading, nothing – not even death – can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (Rom. 8:39). Amen. Have a blessed august month fulfilled in Christ!
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 08 July 2026
It has been three days since Sunday when we heard Jesus calling us to “Come to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am meek and humble of heart; and you will find rest for your selves. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Mt.11:28-30).
It is one of the shortest and most memorable passage in the gospel but, how do we really come to Jesus in order to rest and feel light?
The good news is, it is Jesus who actually comes to us first, inviting us to come to him to find rest and feel light. Exactly like at the meeting of the Risen Lord and Thomas the Apostle eight days after Easter as narrated to us by John. You will recall that last Friday was the Feast of St. Thomas the Apostle (June 3) when I presented in my homily Caravaggio’s painting called The Incredulity of Thomas done in 1602. This is the second time I have used a painting by this renowned Italian painter said to be the favorite of the late Pope Francis too.
Photo of painting by Caravaggio, “The Incredulity of Thomas” via wikipedia.commons.org.
Thomas “refused” to believe the Apostles’ news to him that Jesus had risen, saying that “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (Jn.10:25).
Many times we are like Thomas, a Didymus, with a twin in life like doubt and certainty, belief and unbelief, darkness and light.
Like Thomas, we say unconsciously that “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger into the nail marks and put my hand into his side, I will not believe” (Jn.10:25) because it is when we are suffering, when we are in darkness, when we are in doubt when we truly search and long for God and Jesus.
It is not that Thomas nor we could not believe that Jesus had risen or doubted Christ at all; actually, Thomas believed in Jesus that is why he came on the eighth day to await the Lord’s coming in the same manner that we still pray despite our “doubts”.
Now a week later, his disciples were again inside and Thomas was with them. Jesus came, although the doors were locked, and stood in their midst and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here and see my hands, and bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:26-28)
Photo of painting by Caravaggio, “The Incredulity of Thomas” via wikipedia.commons.org.
See the artistry of Caravaggio in this painting, that characteristic play of light and darkness emanating from Jesus, illuminating Thomas and his elder Apostles Peter and John.
All darkness in life are diminished, even vanished completely when we bring everything and everyone in the light of Jesus Christ who comes to us to enlighten us, to illumine us from many darkness we go through in life like Thomas on that night of the eighth day of Easter.
But, there is more to the light of Christ that we can see in this Caravaggio painting.
Amid its stillness and silence, one could feel deeply Jesus Christ’s words last Sunday – come to me – echoed softly, personally, lovingly to Thomas. And to each one of us today.
Photo of painting by Caravaggio, “The Incredulity of Thomas” via wikipedia.commons.org.
John tells us that Jesus simply said to Thomas to “Put your finger here and see my hands, bring your hand and put it into my side, and do not be unbelieving, but believe.” Thomas answered and said to him, “My Lord and my God” (Jn.20:27-28).
Okay, fine… it is just my imagination or my contemplation that I heard Christ’s words last Sunday echoed in this scene, “come to me and I will give you rest” but, there is something so beautiful and deeply personal with Jesus in saying or implying those same words here. You can hear it so close, so near you, not from afar especially when you consider its Filipino translation of “Lumapit kayo sa akin” or the informal “Halikayo at lumapit sa akin” that both indicate a separation of even a few feet away from Jesus who is calling us.
See the proximity of the four people in this painting. That is how close Jesus gets to us whenever he comes to us, inviting us to come to him in order to find rest especially in those dark moments in our lives, when we feel hurt and abandoned. When we are so stressed out as seen in those wrinkles on the foreheads of the three apostles!
Contrast their images to the serenity of Jesus. Most of all, see also the hands of Jesus, of how his left hand with the nail wound visible moving aside his garment so that Thomas and his companions may see further his pierced side.
Whenever Jesus comes to us, calling us to come to him to show us his wounds from the cross to remind us that before all our pains and hurts came, he was there first to suffer and be wounded and died for us.
And he has come to us again, calling us to come to him because he had risen, assuring us that all our wounds like his will heal eventually! That is when we experience rest. And being light in life.
But, what I love most in this painting is the way Caravaggio depicted the Risen Lord holding the hand of Thomas while probing into his side wound:
Photo of painting by Caravaggio, “The Incredulity of Thomas” via wikipedia.commons.org.
How lovely! Caravaggio must be in the highest heaven when he painted this part.
Remember when Thomas dared to say unless he sees the nail marks in the Lord’s hands and put his hand at his side, he would not believe?
Jesus knew it so well not only with Thomas but with each one of us, of our being a Didymus, always with a twin of doubt so that he does not merely appear but touches us to experience deeply, personally his loving presence through his wounds.
See how Caravaggio depicted the left hand of Jesus again with the mark of nail holding the very hand of Thomas, directing his finger into his pierced side. You could feel the sure grip as well as gentleness of the Lord’s hand in leading the finger of Thomas into his pierced side wound. So dramatic as if it is not enough for Jesus to being present but most of all, experienced as closest at possible.
Jesus touches us always, literally and figuratively by holding our wounded selves to experience his wounded self too. He does not only call us in words but leads us with his total self.
Christ’s invitation for us to “come to him” remains personal and personalized. Not mass produced like what is happening these days where speed and reach are the main considerations, not the person.
While writing this piece yesterday, one of the blogs I follow came out with a new article exactly about last Sunday’s gospel scene, claiming that if God texts us today, these very words to “come to me” by Jesus would be his “text message” to us (https://thedevotionalguy.blog/2026/07/07/if-god-sent-you-a-text/).
I believe so. Because text messages have become the closest things we can have of anyone in these days of social media. However, if ever you receive that text message from Jesus, run outside to meet him personally for surely, he had come. Amen. God bless you.
Photo by author, St. Michael Retreat House, Antipolo City, 16 June 2026.
Sampung buwan na 'kong hindi natutulog Kasi naman, ang ingay ng aming kapitbahay 'Pag gabi, disco house at videoke Kaya't sorry na lang kung wala sa aking sarili Mahal kita, pero miss na miss na miss ko na
Ang aking kama at ang malupit kong unan Ba't 'di ka na lang sumama? Hihiga tayo at kakanta
I have always loved the Eraserheads whose songs are like vintage wines that get better with age like Kamasupra from their thrid studio album considered as the best Pinoy rock album, “Cutterpillow” released in 1995.
See the genius and artistry of Ely Buendia in composing Kamasupra, a witty play of words and ideas, of the bed we call kama in Filipino and that bible of erotica Kama Sutra from ancient India.
More than a furniture, the bed is also an altar of the highest order in every home where we perform our final acts as humans at the end of each day – of retiring and of dreaming while entrusting ourselves, consciously or unconsciously to God. In the same manner, it is on our bed where we also desecrate our very selves and those dearest to us.
Photo from LightRocket via Getty Images Erotic sculptures of the Khajuraho group of monuments, part of the UNESCO World Heritage Sites in India.
Please. There’s nothing bastos with both Kamasupra and Kama Sutra; both speak of the joys and sanctity of our relationships, of our being with our loved ones in bed that leads us to eternity as every old and dying person would tell you.
I know. I have met so many of them being a chaplain in a hospital for five years now. Whether in our home or in the hospital, the bed is always the final step board of every soul going to eternity.
Whenever I would bless the master’s bedroom in a new home, I say a prayer of blessing on the couple’s bed and before sprinkling it with Holy Water, I ask them to first bless it so that they would feel its sanctity as an altar where they give themselves to each other completely.
Hence, only them the husband and wife can sleep in that bed and nobody else, not even the children.
I do the same ritual of blessings in the other rooms of the children, praying that they would find rest of body and soul in their bed with a strict reminder that no visitors can stay inside their bedroom because it is sacred. Period.
This is most true for the bed of every priest. Notice how in most parish rectories and convents of nuns you find the sign “Private” to indicate no visitors allowed in their private quarters.
The priest’s bedroom and bed are literally his “inner sanctum” where only he and Jesus can be together at all times. Usually in silence too.
That is why I tell young priests to first have an altar in their bedroom where they could pray first thing in the morning and just before hitting the sack. Next to our breviary, the bed is the priest’s most beloved and blessed partner in life.
Most of all, the priest’s bed should always be “celibate” too like himself – that is, single-size only. No need to have big beds nor expensive ones because a priest’s bed is a reflection of his vows in the ministry – celibacy, poverty, and obedience.
Photo by author, personal altar in my bedroom.
Some of my most memorable images and experiences as a priest happened when I accompanied two elderly priests of our diocese in their deathbeds.
First was Msgr. Macario Manahan who died on 16 March 2014, the Second Sunday in Lent that year. I was by his side when he died that Sunday afternoon as he lived near my previous parish assignment. The second priest was Msgr. Vicente Manlapig who was confined in our hospital where I serve as chaplain. He died a few hours after my last visit to him on a Sunday morning, 26 February 2023, the Second Sunday in Lent.
Yes. They both died in Lent that is why since 2023, I have kept on telling people that life is a daily Lent, a preparation for Easter.
Bed of St. John Marie Vianney, Patron of all priests; from devotiontoourlady.com
It was at their deathbeds when I strongly realized that our bed is also our altar especially when we get sick and old, where we shall celebrate the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, where we meet and receive Jesus Christ in the Holy Viaticum when too weak to celebrate the Eucharist.
It is on the bed of a dying priest I have felt deeply and truthfully the vocation in the priesthood – of how we were called by Jesus to become his priest that in the end he shall be calling us again as his priest to join him eternally.
And there in our bed comes the painful truth of how when we were young and strong we were called to do everything for Jesus and his Church, often lording it over the flock, so powerful as if like a god until all of a sudden without any warning, we just find ourselves already old or sick and weak, bedridden.
That’s when we hear anew Christ our Eternal Priest calling us, this time not to do anything at all but simply hang there on the cross with him like the two thieves at the Calvary.
That is when in our deathbeds we priests call on Christ anew like Dimas, the good thief, admitting all sins and faults while confessing our faith in Jesus.
The priest’s bed is where the priest cultivates his intimacy with Jesus too – his very celibacy and purity, his poverty and simplicity, as well as his docility and obedience not only to his bishop but ultimately to God.
Because it is also on that bed where the priest wages all kinds of battle in his life and ministry until the end, where the devil begins and ends all temptations to displace Christ from the side of the priest.
The Death of St. Martin of Tours, detail from an altar frontal from the Church of Saint Martin in Chia, 1150-1200 (tempera on panel) by Johannes Pintor, Ribagorça Workshop (fl.1150-1200); Museu Nacional d’Art de Catalunya, Barcelona, Spain ; (add.info.: Saint Martin on his deathbed, covered with a blanket in the colours and stripes of Aragon, rebukes the devil;).
It is said that when St. Martin of Tours, our patron saint in Bocaue, Bulacan, was dying in Candes (France) surrounded by his disciples, the devil appeared at his bed side, trying to claim his soul. Having lived a life of intense spiritual warfare, most likely some of it in his own bed, St. Martin rebuked the devil with his firm faith in Jesus Christ. The devil vanished and St. Martin died on November 11, 397 AD.
Every night towards the end of our Compline, we pray Simeon’s Canticle, the Nunc Dimittis (Lk.2:29-32) with an antiphon that goes like this: “Protect us, Lord, as we stay awake; that awake we may keep watch with Christ and asleep rest in his peace.” We then close our prayers with the final words, “May the Lord grant us a restful sleep and a peaceful death. Amen.”
It does not really matter whether one is a priest or not. Most of all if your bed is comfortable or not. What is important is that on that bed we are at peace with ourselves, with others and most of all, with God. So, keep your bed sacred at all times.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 30 April 2026
This front-page photo of the Philippine Daily Inquirer on August 20, 2021 is my favorite shot taken during the COVID pandemic coverage by the local media. It is worth a thousand words indeed.
I remembered this photo last month before the Holy Week when a friend and former colleague in GMA News texted me about the death of her former staff member. Her message read, “please pray for the soul of ____ who had lost the battle with cancer.”
It is perhaps one of the most widely used template in announcing a death, lost a battle. In my 28 years as a priest, it is only now as a senior citizen that I have reflected about that most common text I receive whenever somebody dies after a lingering illness. Or battle.
Since turning “sigisty-one” years old last March, I have considered it as grace that the more I have now become aware of the reality of my mortality, the more I have become more filled with hope in life too.
Despite death becoming so real this time as I really feel ageing through weakening of muscles, diminishing stamina, failing memory, and most especially of the onset of comorbidities like diabetes, the more I am most convinced that life is beautiful, always good to be alive. Every gising indeed is a blessing!
This is not an attempt to romanticize or make death palatable. I know. This is easier said than done. Memento mori is a reality like the sword of Damocles literally above us daily, not just a fashion fad we put on our t-shirt or some on their skin as a tattoo.
We all shall die. What is scary is the process of dying, not death itself which we shall not feel because we are already dead. Dying is a defeat, a loss when all we have is bitterness and anger, unforgiveness and resentments because that is when we resign and stop living, losing life by default.
Death is a loss as in a battle when we deny its reality, its being a fact and part of life that we have refused to look beyond it that is fuller and eternal.
Photo by author, Manaoag Basilica, 09 January 2026.
But, when we have love and forgiveness, contrition and acceptance, death turns into a victory. And life. Especially when we have Jesus Christ.
In Jesus, every death and its other faces of poverty, losses, failures, sufferings and sickness are all a gain, a true wealth, a victory because these lead us to fulfillment not just happiness; fruitfulness not only success in life because death leads us to the hereafter.
Recall Luke’s beautiful account of the road to Emmaus when Jesus joined the two disciples walking at the opposite direction, leaving Jerusalem late afternoon of Easter. They did not recognize Jesus during their journey because their eyes were fixated on what happened on Good Friday; their eyes would only be opened after Jesus broke bread with them in their home in Emmaus. It is when we are broken like bread that we experience the fullness and meaning of life. (See https://lordmychef.com/2026/04/18/leaving-disbelieving/)
Photo from Sel Nanquil-Darilag.
I recently went to the wake of former RPN-9 reporter Ed Nanquil who “battled” prostate cancer for sometime until dementia hit him two years ago that abruptly cut off our communications.
Despite my busy schedule that week, I made sure to come to his wake to offer Mass as a final tribute and gratitude to Ed who was very instrumental in my becoming a priest.
We last met in 1993 at the WPD headquarters in UN Avenue, Manila. It was our seminary break and I have come to join my former GMA News cameraman Jun Fronda in his graveyard shift duty when Ed approached me that night at the lobby of the police headquarter.
“Totoo pala ang chismis na nagpapari ka,” Ed calmly told me in his characteristic genteel voice.
I looked at him and laughed, telling him how I have been used to that comment. As we talked about my vocation, I told Ed how I felt God playing a big joke on me: first, when he made me a TV reporter when I do not have the broadcast voice at all, explaining that I applied as a news writer but by God’s grace, I was catapulted to being a reporter. And secondly, how God brought me back to the seminary to become a priest who would be preaching, singing and chanting a lot when my voice has remained small and sintonado!
That was when Ed told me that “many times, the things we hate and do not like in ourselves are exactly what God likes in us.” Whoa! It was the tipping point in my vocation story as I felt Ed was an angel sent by God to assure me He wanted me to become a priest, that I have to stop doubting Him and His call despite my many weaknesses and limitations. And sins.
That night at his wake, as I blessed the remains of Ed, I silently thanked him, and whispered to him he had not lost his battles with cancer and dementia. I have become a priest partly because of him who had taught me along the way how to battle with my many doubts of self and of God.
Photo from Sel Nanquil-Darilag.
When we refer to death as a battle we have lost, it means more of the grief of losing a beloved because the truth is the opposite: it is when we die that we win the war in life with the many lives we have touched and won over who would continue to live and touch others too in the process.
For those battling with cancer and other sickness, as well as those hurdling so many obstacles and trials in this life, especially those “lumalaban ng patas”, God is with us always. Our battle had long been won by Jesus Christ. We just have to be present. Do not lose by default. Accept. And “surrender” like St. Paul:
…the time of my departure is at hand. I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith. From now on the crown of righteousness awaits me, which the Lord, the just judge, will award to me on that day, and not only to me, but to all who have longed for his appearance (2 Timothy 4:6b-8).
May we have the same courage of St. Paul in life. And in death. To live forever and ever. Amen.
Photo by author, Don Bosco Batulao, Batangas, 08 April 2026
Lord My Chef Sunday Recipe for the Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II Third Sunday of Easter, Cycle A, 19 April 2026 Acts 2:14, 22-23 ><}}}*> 1Peter 1:17-21 ><}}}*> Luke 24:13-35
Photo by author, view from Jerusalem Temple, May 2019.
We heard last Sunday Jesus Christ’s coming to his disciples on the evening of Easter and a second time eight days later when Thomas was present, reminding us how Easter is a story of coming and believing, of believing and coming.
This Sunday we find an opposite movement and direction in the two disciples leaving Jerusalem in disbelief at the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.
That very day, the first day of the week, two of Jesus’ disciples were going to a village seven miles from Jerusalem called Emmaus, and they were conversing about all things that had occurred. And it happened that while they were conversing a debating, Jesus himself drew near and walked with them, but their eyes were prevented from recognizing him (Luke 24:13-16).
“The Road to Emmaus” painting by Ronald Raab, CSC, from ronaldraab.com.
Easter is also about leaving in disbelief. Not necessarily because of not believin like Thomas last Sunday.
Cleopas and the other disciple were leaving Jerusalem in disbelief which our Filipino language adequately express in “hindi makapaniwala” and “matay ko mang isipin” that both indicate a strong sense of belief with a dash of doubt because the story, the event, or the very person involved is beyond comprehension.
Or, bigger than reality like Jesus Christ and his very mystery of love for us.
Many times, we could not believe how good and loving God can be to us, so personal, so real and true but how can it be he “allows” bad things to happen to us or in the world.
Like the two disciples going home to Emmaus, we walk away from God to distance from him and everything and everyone to find our selves and see the real picture of what is going on when times are rough for us.
Those are the times we silently tell ourselves “this could not be happening” especially when it is so difficult, so unbelievable simply because – we believe. Hence, our usual litany of striving to be good, of serving the poor and needy, of going to Mass every Sunday, of always praying…
Look back in our many experiences in life when we could have died or have lost more or could have been a total wreck. Amazingly, despite our being in the opposite direction in life, consciously or unconsciously, that is when we feel more blessed. That’s when we are able to declare with conviction, “hindi ako pinabayaan ng Diyos, napaka-buti ng Diyos, and binigay niya pa rin ang lahat”. This is what the first reading reminds us of Peter’s speech before the Jews at Pentecost, at how God never left us, sending us Jesus Christ as fulfillment of his promise to Abraham and David.
Modern painting of the road to Emmaus from the internet.
Like in the road to Emmaus, Jesus journeys with us in the opposite direction only to bring us back to Jerusalem filled with joy by reminding us how everything that happens in our lives, Jesus had gone through the same sufferings too as foreshadowed and explained in the Sacred Scriptures.
Here we are reminded of the importance of personal prayer which is more than the mere recitation of prayers but having a relationship in God who never leaves nor abandons us.
Most of all, here we are reminded too of how the Sunday Eucharist opens ourselves to Christ’s reality and loving presence among us as experienced by the two disciples after Jesus had broken bread with them. It is called a Holy Communion because in that “breaking of bread”, we share in our common experiences of suffering and death. That we are not alone. Most of all, that we too like others rise to new life in Jesus Christ who suffered, died, and rose to life first for us.
It can happen that our eyes too are prevented from recognizing Jesus like Cleopas and companion on the road to Emmaus because of our many fixations in life like that blessings can only be in positive things like good health, security like steady income, a rising career or a profitable business and endeavor.
But, experience has taught us so many times that blessings are not only found in good things but even in bad or negative ones like sickness, failures, losses and death. And when we look back, they were not really that bad at all because it was in our failures and losses, sickness and deaths when we realized and learned most in life.
Notice how Luke succinctly narrated the breaking of bread in the home of Cleopas in Emmaus, it was so swift unlike the building up of drama along the road to Emmaus. It was so simple because that’s how things happen in life too – so quick that the simplest things and gestures, even so bad can suddenly become so loaded with meanings that we realize God’s loving presence in us.
“Supper at Emmaus” by renowned painter Caravaggio. See the emotion depicted by Caravaggio with his trademark of masterful play of light and shadows. At the center is the Risen Lord blessing the bread that caught the two disciples who are seated in disbelief, one outstretching his arms and the others pushing back in his chair. The third character in the painting is the innkeeper unaware of the significance of the gesture of Jesus. It was at this instance that the two disciples recognized Christ as the travelling man with them to Emmaus.
During the COVID pandemic, on the first Sunday of lockdown when there was no public Mass, I started a motorized procession of the Blessed Sacrament in my former parish by mounting our big monstrance on the roof of a parishioner’s truck. I announced the route of our procession during our online Mass that Sunday and people waited.
What an amazing sight of the people’s deep faith in God as they knelt and bowed before the Blessed Sacrament whether on the main highway or the inside streets. Some were crying while everyone was deep in prayer.
There lies the great mystery of Easter: Jesus need not appear to us in person because as he vanishes in the Blessed Sacrament, that is when we recognize him!
In the most simple gestures of the Mass under the most simple signs of bread and wine, Jesus vanishes from our outward view and through this vanishing our interior or inner recognition opens up that we “see” him in the many instances he had touched us especially in our “heart-breaking” experiences in the past, our Emmaus road.
Photo by Ms. Anne Ramos, 22 March 2020, Bagbaguin, Sta. Maria, Bulacan.
We know with certainty that “it is the Lord” – Dominus est – present in every breaking of bread because part of the Easter mystery tells us deep within that it is only in his vanishing that he truly becomes recognizable to us. That is why we have to stop all those “theatrics” in our liturgy as noted by many netizens this past Holy Week and Easter. Unknown to many priests and their alalays, the more we have gimmicks in the Mass or even in our sacred spaces, the more we “displace” and remove Christ.
After an hour every Sunday, we leave the Mass and go back to our usual way of life, facing life’s many challenges. Peter reminds us in the second reading to hold on to that “faith and hope in God” who gave us Jesus Christ, “the spotless unblemished lamb.”
Let us not forget this mystery of Easter that, the more Jesus vanishes, the more we recognize him because Jesus is more than enough than anybody or anything else especially when we in our Emmaus experience. Let us pray like Cleopas and companion “Stay with us, Lord” so we may show him in our witnessing especially when we could not find him in others. Amen.
From Facebook, 21 April 2021: “There is an urgency to announce the Joy, the joy of the Risen Lord.”
