The Lord Is My Chef Daily Recipe for the Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II Wednesday in the First Week of Advent, 06 December 2023 Isaiah 25:6-10 ><))))*> + ><))))*> + ><))))*> Matthew 15:29-37
Photo by author, St. Scholastica Retreat House, Baguio City, 23 August 2023.
God our loving Father, may we go back to you our very life; forgive us who have easily forgotten you especially after these difficult years of the pandemic; now that COVID has waned and life is back to "normal", we are back to our unholy ways.
May we always search you, Father, and dwell in you; destroy the “veil that veils all peoples, the web that is woven over all nations” (Is.25:7) that mislead and imprison us with false hopes in superficial relationships and materialistic briberies of this world.
Let us go "hungry and thirsty" to realize the most essential in life are you, dear God and the people who truly care for us and love us like our family and friends.
Like the crowd who have followed Jesus in the wilderness for three days with nothing to eat: they experienced advent, your coming, O God, when Jesus fed them after they were finally disposed to desire the longings of their soul than of their bodies; it was only then when Jesus fed them through the miraculous multiplication of the loaves of bread for the second time.
May the darkness and gloom that envelop us this season of Advent like the wars in Gaza and Ukraine and other military show of force by other nations and groups elsewhere, the barbaric terror attack last Sunday in Marawi and the frequent earthquakes we have been experiencing along with our other personal crises dispose us to desiring you alone, God our Father, so we may finally enter your heavenly banquet in the Holy Eucharist with “rich food and choice wines” (Is.25:6). 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, 10 November 2023
Lady of Sorrows from a triptych by the Master of the Stauffenberg Altarpiece, Alsace c. 1455; photo from fraangelicoinstitute.com.
There’s a beautiful interplay between crying and living. And dying.
When we were growing up as kids, siesta was obligatory at home. It was a moral ought that my mom would tell us stories in bed to fall asleep, always holding a copy of the Reader’s Digest with its beautiful pictures and illustrations.
One siesta time, the image of a newborn baby being delivered caught my eyes from the copy of the Reader’s Digest my mom was holding. Then the next illustration struck me – I was about four or five years old – as it showed the doctor held the baby upside down, crying so hard after being spanked by the doctor! My mom explained to me that’s the way it is with babies when they are born: if they cry, that means they are alive but if they do not cry, the doctor had to spank the baby in order to cry and be alive.
That was my first lesson about life strongly etched in my mind. As I grew up and matured, especially after being ordained as priest, I realized deeper meanings from that simple explanation of my mom: crying is part of our lives. If we get hurt, if we suffer, if we cry, that means we are still alive.
Many times in life for us to live, we have to kick hard and cry so hard enough like newborn babies to breathe and be alive. It is in crying we realize so many things in life, about real friendships and relationships, about joy and sadness. There are times we cry not only when in pain and agony but even when we experience joy. In fact, our most profound experiences in life are best expressed with tears when we cry, best when in silence and alone.
But, death had also taught me something so amazing and lovely about crying. I consider it as the other side of crying. And of life.
Photo by author, Baguio City, August 2023.
It happened when my best friend, Gil died in 2015. He asked me in February that year to pray for his long-delayed medical checkup; that same night, he called me again that his doctor had him confined for suspected cancer. After a series of tests, he had radiation then surgery after which followed his series of chemotherapy.
Gil cried a lot when diagnosed with cancer. He was angry and bitter with his sickness. And for a good reason because among us from high school seminary, he was the healthiest and most health conscious! I knew it because when news of that mad cow disease from Europe broke in early 2000, he stopped eating beef even burgers!
In mid September, her Ate Lily called me that doctors had told them Gil’s cancer cells were very aggressive and would have a short time to live. It was a Sunday and we his friends rushed to Makati Med that afternoon. I came to visit him for another three days before he died early Sunday morning, September 22, 2015.
It was during his final week in the hospital when he asked me for a “permission to die” (see our blog, https://lordmychef.com/2023/11/08/giving-permission-to-die/). Gil simply told me he was ready to go. His face was radiant and light, he was so at peace on his hospital bed as he gave me other final instructions for his kids and ex-wife.
I could not say anything except cried. And I cried so hard, especially as I anointed him with holy oil and prayed the commendation to the dying. It was from Gil that I realized the dying receive that special grace of knowing the end, possibly even of seeing heaven that is why they are always so composed like Jesus Christ on the Cross on Good Friday. I told him how I wish I could have that same courage in facing death when my time comes. He assured me God would give me that grace too.
From that experience, I realized when people get sick, they cry because that’s when death faced them. Who would not cry and be terrified? We their friends and family in turn, console them. The inverse happens when they approach death: they are so composed, we their family and friends are the ones crying. And the one dying are the ones consoling us! When they die, we cry. Why? Because we do not know what happens next, of what lies ahead when our loved ones are gone. Paano na tayong naiwan? That’s the saddest and scariest part of life when someone dear to us dies.
In 1999, St. John Paul II wrote a letter to his fellow elderly where he said that the grace of getting old is to be able to look back to the past with gratitude and to look forward to the future with joyful anticipation of eternity. That holy Pope must have been seeing heaven while still here on earth!
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, 06 November 2023.
It is in death when we see its strange contrast with life, of how when we were born, we cried and kicked hard to be alive while those around us rejoiced with the gift of life; when we die, we do not cry because we are already joyful with the coming bliss while those around us are filled with grief and sadness, crying not only with our demise but because they do not know what lies ahead.
In both instances, we find the grace of God so pronounced, so present that indeed, St. Paul was absolutely right:
None of us lives for oneself, and no one dies for oneself. For if we live, we live for the Lord, and if we die, we die for the Lord; so then, whether we live or die, we are the Lord’s.
Romans 14:7-8
When we were growing up, there was a baby shampoo that advertised itself so mild that would not hurt your eyes, marketing itself with the words “No more tears”. It also played a commercial of a young boy going to shampoo his hair declaring, “a man should not cry” to bolster that old belief that crying is weakness.
At the sermon on the mount, Jesus taught us one of the beatitudes as “Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted” (Mt. 5:4). I love using this gospel in funeral Masses. Where is the blessedness of mourning the death of a loved one? What is good with mourning, with crying?
Answer: love.
Blessed are those who mourn because they have love in their hearts. We cry at the death of a beloved because we love them. But, the greatest blessing we have when we mourn is from the love we have experienced from the one who had died. It is said that “if you have love in your heart, you have been blessed by God; if you have been loved, you have been touched by God.”
We are blessed when we mourn, when we cry at the death of a beloved because they loved us, they gave us a glimpse of God, they made us experience God’s love in their love! Is it not a tremendous blessing indeed?
We are so blessed these days that crying is no longer considered as a sign of weakness but actually of strength – the strength to live and the strength to forge on in life after the death of a beloved. Cheers to our tears that keep us alive! Have a wonderful weekend!
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Valenzuela City, 2021.
Quiet Storm by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II, 08 November 2023
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Valenzuela City, 06 November 2023.
A very dear friend died last October 16 after more than three years of fighting cancer. She used to be one of our elementary teachers at the school I was first assigned after ordination. She later resigned to teach abroad but every year whenever she was home for summer vacation, she always invited me to join their mini-reunions of former co-teachers.
Everything changed in 2020 when she had to retire early to return home for her cancer treatment. We could not visit her during the pandemic lockdown, occasionally meeting her via zoom and video phone calls. When COVID subsided a little in late 2021 and early 2022, we finally met briefly. She seemed to be responding well to her chemotherapy except that she had lost hair that was natural. Last December, we were finally able to go out with other fellow co-teachers twice after Christmas and after New Year’s day last January. We were so glad she had regained weight and strength. And hair too!
Saw her again last June but in late August, she stopped answering our messages. It turned out that her cancer had metastasized to her lungs and liver. When I came to see her October 7, the first thing she told me was for me to “allow her to die”. According to her brothers and elder sister, she had also asked them for “permission to die” earlier that night because she said, she was already tired and was ready to go back to God.
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Valenzuela City, 06 November 2023.
It was not the first time somebody had asked me a “permission to die”, especially since I have become a hospital chaplain two years ago. But, I must confess, in all instances, there was always hesitancy on my part in giving “permission to die” especially when those dying are close to me like friends and relatives. In fact, the first person who asked me “permission to die” was my best friend from high school seminary. I just cried, said nothing when he calmly told me he was ready to go.
That scene remains vivid to my memory to this day, including the many lessons he had taught about life and dying.
By the way, let me put it clear that what we are referring here as giving “permission to die” is allowing death take its natural course, not mercy killing or euthanasia which is intrinsically evil we should never allow.
In my 25 years in the priesthood, two years as hospital chaplain since 2021, I have always felt the process of dying as a “grace-filled moment” too like in the birth of an infant or recovery of a sick person. Both the dying and their family and friends are blessed when death approaches or had come, like when Jesus visited Martha and Mary four days after the death of their brother Lazarus. That scene of Jesus speaking to Martha before bringing Lazarus back to life assures us of how God had turned death into a blessing in Christ: Jesus told her, “I am the resurrection and the life; whoever believes in me, even if he dies, will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” (Jn. 11:25-26)
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Valenzuela City, 06 November 2023.
If we believe Jesus and his words to Martha, we too shall find him coming to us when a beloved is dying, especially when they ask us that “permission to die” which is not actually a permission per se because only God decides when we are going to die.
When patients ask for “permission to die”, they are actually bidding us goodbye. Dying people always knew when they had to go because they have already accepted the reality. This is very noticeable at the serenity, even of joy, on their face. Despite their sickness, dying patients who have truly made peace with God and had given up everything to Him always have that grace of composure like Jesus when he died on the Cross, crying his same prayer, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit” (Lk.23:46).
Photo by author, National Shrine of Our Lady of Fatima, Valenzuela City, September 2021.
Giving “permission to die” is a grace from God He gives to relatives and friends to accept and embrace that difficult reality.
“Permitting” our loved ones to die is to assure them of our love and forgiveness of their sins against us. It is our final act of love for them when we assist them to that great passageway onto eternity like when we would lead our guests out to the door to ensure them our separation is just temporary until we meet again soon.
Due to this great amount of love in our final goodbyes, some people sometimes “fake” their dying moments, creating a “drama” in asking “permission to die” when actually, they are not yet ready to die but merely demanding love and care from family and friends. One clear sign is they tend to be more cerebral than cordial, becoming bitter and angry than ever. Even amid sufferings, they think more of themselves than feel others around them. Like the boy who cried wolf, they have not yet really seen death approaching because most likely, they have not yet faced life and living truly. Coming to terms with death is coming to terms with life. When loved ones “fake” their dying, what they really seek is how to live fully and responsibly, to be their true self. But that’s a different topic…
Photo by author, Malagos Orchid Farm, Davao City, 2017.
Death is the most terrifying moment in life because we do not know what’s next, where we are going. That is why, when people truly mean that they have accepted death, that is also when they have accepted life in its fullness. They do not reason out. They just feel God and those around them. Most of all, they have peace within amid pains.
The same thing happens with us relatives and friends of the dying. We feel their sense of peace within, affecting us, infecting us. Hence, we get lost at how to express our giving them of that permission to die. Very often, we cry because our hearts overflow with love. When we feel their seeking of permission to die is genuine, our mouths and tongues are shut, incapable of expressing our love for them that is diverted into our eyes as tears, bursting forth like waters from a collapsed dam that cleanse also us of our fears and sadness at our impending loss.
Finally, giving permission to die to our beloved is an expression of our faith in God, affirming we all came from God and would someday go home to God in heaven. Thus, giving permission to die is actually to comfort – literally, “to give strength to” – the dying of their faith in God while facing their final tests and temptations in life, assuring them that soon, we shall join them in eternal joy.
Many times, our family and friends suffer so much before death because of our refusal to let them go too. We keep on holding them back that terrify them in making the great crossover. Giving them permission to die is easing and sharing their fears so they can finally let go and let God, that is, die – the meaning of the letter “d” that stands between the words “go” and “God”. According to the prayer by St. Francis of Assisi, it is in dying when we are born into eternal life. Amen.
*Aside from All Saints’ Day and All Souls Day, the whole month of November is a traditional time for visiting the graves of our loved ones. Go and offer them prayers, especially that “permission to die” if you are still holding them and have not yet let them go.
Lawiswis ng Salita ni P. Nicanor F. Lalog II, Ika-06 ng Nobyembre 2023
Larawan kuha ng may akda, bahagi ng Tarlac sa Central Luzon Link Expressway, 19 Hulyo 2023.
Natitiyak ko kay dami
ninyong kuwento sa araw na ito
matapos ang mahabang
"long weekend";
mula halalan
hanggang Undas
inyong pinag-uusapan,
magagandang tanawin
at pasyalang pinuntahan,
masasarap at malinamnam
na pagkaing natikman
habang binabalik-balikan
mga alaala
at gunita kapiling
mga minamahal natin.
Nguni't
hindi ba ninyo napansin
bakit kay huhusay natin
kapag mga bagay-bagay
ay papatapos
at magwawakas na rin?
Kung kailan patapos
na bakasyon,
ibig mo ay extension
dahil saka pa lamang
nararamdaman ang samahan;
kay hirap magpaalam
inaasam oras ay madagdagan
kahit kaunting sandali lang
huwag nang tigilan
kuwentuhan at tawanan;
kung kailan uwian na
saka matatagpuan
maganda at bagong
tanawin, pakiramdam
laging bitin.
Ngunit kung tutuusin,
buhay ay laging bitin
lahat ay paulit-ulit
na simulain dahil
walang natatapos
walang nagwawakas din.
Alalahanin turo
ng matatanda sa atin
huwag magsasalita
ng tapos dahil kung ating
susuriin, sa pag-alis
at paglisan natin,
tayo ma'y dumarating;
maging sa kamatayan
pananaw nati'y hindi wakas
kungdi simula ng buhay
na walang hanggan
kaya naman kapag mayroong
pumanaw, mga huling araw
nila ay puro habilin,
buhay ay kay husay.
Kaya alalahanin
bagaman ang wakas ay
nagbabadya palagi,
pagbutihin bawat sandali
upang sa bawat katapusan
mabakas mas magandang bukas!
Larawan kuha ng may-akda mula sa OLFU-Quezon City, Enero 2023.
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.
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.
The Lord Is My Chef Daily Recipe for the Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II
Tuesday in the Twenty-Sixth Week of Ordinary Time, Year I, 03 October 2023
Zechariah 8:20-23 <*(((>< + ><)))*> Luke 9:51-56
The old city of Jerusalem with the Golden Dome Mosque seen from the inside of the Church Dominus Flevit (the Lord Cried); photo by author, May 2017.
Today O Dear God
our loving Father,
I pray for those going
through many difficulties
and sufferings in life;
those travelling the road
to Jerusalem,
even inside Jerusalem
already, one with Jesus
without them knowing
carrying their Cross
to the Calvary.
When the days for Jesus being taken up were fulfilled, he resolutely determined to journey to Jerusalem.
Luke 9:51
Open our eyes,
open our hearts,
dear Father to recognize
Jesus our companion
to Jerusalem,
in Jerusalem;
help us to be "resolute"
like Christ in going to
Jerusalem to face
Passion and Death
to eventually realize our
Resurrection in him
too!
I pray, dear God,
for those giving up,
have given up to
continue the journey
to Jerusalem: those
who have been living
all these years with
dialysis or chemotherapy,
those with never-ending
rehabilitation due to stroke
and other accidents,
those living daily with
medications and motivations
to fight depression,
to resist suicide;
those nursing so much pains
and hurts within not only
due to physical trauma but
especially emotional and
spiritual traumas;
Lord, I pray also for their
caregivers, their family
and loved ones so
often pushed to the limits
physically, emotionally,
and spiritually; console and
comfort them with the warmth
of the Holy Spirit, strengthen them
and assure them of your love;
tap their shoulders and whisper
to them they are doing well.
I pray dear Father
for those grieving,
those still grappling with
the loss of a loved one;
those suddenly thrown into
emptiness within and without
with the death of a wife or
husband, a mother or a father,
a brother or a sister;
Jesus Christ knew so well the
deep hurt and emptiness every
death creates; accompany them
in the eerie silence and darkness
of suddenly not seeing
nor hearing, not embracing
nor serving a beloved departed.
God,
life is a journey;
thank you in giving us Jesus
our companion; like
the two disciples going
back to Emmaus in
sadness and disappointments,
ignite our hearts anew with
Christ's loving presence,
to go to you, to seek you
right in our hearts,
our little Jerusalem
until we come to you in heaven,
the new Jerusalem.
Amen.
Facade of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre where one finds inside another church enclosing the very site of the Crucifixion of Jesus Christ; photo by author, Jerusalem, May 2017.
The Lord Is My Chef Daily Recipe for the Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II
Thursday, Feast of St. Lorenzo Ruiz & Companion Martyrs, 28 September 2023
Haggai 1:1-8 ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> Luke 9:7-9
Photo by Mr. Jay Javier, August 2023.
Teach me,
O God our Father,
to be sincere and true,
humble and docile
to heed your call
today to "consider
my ways" in relating
with you and others:
Now thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways! You have sown so much, but have brought in little; you have eaten, but have not satisfied; you have drunk, but have not been exhilarated; have clothed yourselves, but not been warmed; and he who earned wages earned them for a bag with holes in it. Thus says the Lord of hosts: Consider your ways! Go up into the hill country; bring timber, and build the house that I may take pleasure in it and receive my glory, says the Lord.
Haggai 1:5-8
I confess, Lord,
so many times in life
I have been thinking more of
myself and less of you,
less of others,
and yet,
the more I get
everything and all
the attention, the more
I feel lost and empty
because I do not have you.
How true are your
words to Haggai, Father:
it is not really working
on so much but doing
everything for you and
in you; it is not simply
eating but also feeding
my soul that is truly
filling; more than drinking
is the reason for celebrating;
better than clothes is
the warmth of another
person; and better than
all the fruits of our labor
are the treasures of
kindness we save
in heaven that is never
lost.
Let us consider
our ways in the light
of Jesus Christ;
like Herod, many times
we just keep on trying
to see him without
any firm resolve
to follow him like
St. Lorenzo Ruiz and
companion martyrs
we celebrate today.
You are so kind,
O God; all you ask us
is to consider our ways
to become witnesses
of your love without any need
to shed our blood
like St. Lorenzo and
company; make us see,
dear Father, the life
and joys you offer us
freely, compared to
the ways of the world
that is misleading
and utterly empty,
lacking in meaning.
Amen.
The Lord Is My Chef Daily Recipe for the Soul by Fr. Nicanor F. Lalog II
Monday in the Twenty-fifth Week of Ordinary Time, Year I, 25 September 2023
Ezra 1:1-6 ><]]]]'> + ><]]]]'> + >]]]]'> Luke 8:16-18
Photo by author, view from Jerusalem temple, May 2019.
Thank you,
dearest God our Father,
in giving us this new day
to pick up the pieces of
our lives, to become better,
to be well, to be fulfilled in you
through Christ Jesus.
Let me claim this life,
Father; let me own
and embrace this gift
of life to make it good;
let me be focus with
the present and what lies
ahead, to let go but learn from
the past. Let me live
the life you have meant
for me so that when finally
I have reached the end
of this journey, you may take
my whole life as my only offering
to you, dear God.
As the psalmist says today,
"The Lord has done great things
for us; we are glad indeed. Restore our fortunes, O Lord...those who sow in tears shall reap
rejoicing. Although they go forth
weeping, carrying the seed to be sown,
they shall come back rejoicing,
carrying their sheaves."
(Ps. 126:3,5-6).
May your word guide us
as we live our lives, Jesus;
let us shine like lamps to make
you known to everyone,
that you alone O Lord is
our life and meaning,
our only fulfillment.
We pray also today
for those rebuilding their
lives - those who are finally
set free by all kinds of bondage
to sin and evil, those who have
finally decided on their own
to choose you, to do what is
good, those who have finally
broke free from vices and
every kind of slavery this world
has continued to surreptitiously
promote to hide its sinister plans;
may we find the "goodwill" of
the many other "King Cyrus of Persia"
you continue to send us, Father,
so we too, like your exiled people
of old, may start to pick up the
pieces of our lives
and rebuild our
lives in you again.
Amen.
lordmychef.com 