These Formation Years

It has been a long time since we played Volleyball against other teams. This afternoon was a one-of-a-kind game against the aspirants. I was laughing most of the time. First, because it was really fun playing with them, and second, we were winning. Some aspirants at the other side of the net are natural stand up comedians I had the best laugh since Lent.

These are the moments that really stick into my head. Having been an seminarian or aspirant and living in the seminary has filled my life with many beautiful memories. I can say that I really grew up in the seminary. Contrary to the notion that it is some restricting place of rigid order and strict discipline, the seminary is where we really grow to become the person God wants to send in the mission field.

Most of who I am now has been honed and cultured in the seminary. It was in my aspirantate years that I was able to conquer my own fear of facing the public, of public performance, and of making mistakes before a crowd. I learned to use the guitar and saxophone and rekindled my piano skills in the seminary. I made a lot of friends and brothers in the seminary, most of whom have chosen to leave but is still in close contact with me. I got to know the ball in the seminary when I learned Basketball, Football, and Volleyball. There would be a long list if I were to continue in this manner.

Now I understand why Salesians take time to visit formation houses. Instead of shooing them away with the supposed memories of discipline and rules, the familiar buildings and playground remind them of the years where God has made them into the man they are now. The formation houses remind them of the graces God has poured upon the tender seedling of a vocation nourishing it to become the great cedar trees that becomes part of the building of Christ's body, the Church.

We Are An Easter People

If you think Christians are rigid people, you are wrong.
If you think Catholics are masochists, you are wrong.
If you think working for holiness is a sad, and lonely path, you are wrong.

We are an easter people. We believe in the Risen Christ. The Christ that who suffered and died on a Friday, kept in a tomb on a Saturday, arose from the tomb on Easter Sunday.

We are a happy people. We are happy because our hopes arose with Jesus as he exited the tomb. His Resurrection assures our own resurrection. Just as the resurrection filled the early Christians with joy, so it still continues to fill us with joy. The message of Christ does not end with the cross. It leads to Easter. For whatever sufferings we endure now is nothing compared to the promises made to us by God.

We are a hopeful people. We no longer fear anything except to lose God. We are full of hope because we know that Christ truly risen is truly God. Christ being truly man enables us to "go into" the Godhead. We are no longer just a part of creation. We have become sons and daughters of God. Jesus promised to be with us till the end of time and he never lies, so what have we to fear? We have by our side an all-powerful God and an all-empathizing Brother.

I personally think we should not limit ourselves to our Good Friday's but take another step to fully appreciate the Easter in our lives. Life may be full of sufferings and pain, but just as the sun continues to set and rise again, we are reminded that this pilgrim journey is not the final journey. The rising sun and the risen Son reminds us of our Easter dignity!

All Things To All Men

The subdued atmosphere of the post novitiate made me think a lot.  Gazing at the cross, my thoughts ran to that lacerated body who willingly sacrificed himself in our place. It must have hurt a lot and much more. The pain of longing for an absent beloved excruciates. For Christ, it was the Father. He may have experienced the pain of losing the Father... because sin drove God away. "And He Himself bore our sins in His body on the cross, so that we might die to sin and live to righteousness; for by His wounds you were healed." (1 Peter 2:24).

We Catholics are called to be all things to all men. Just as our Master has given everything of Himself, to the last drop of blood, to the last ounce of breath, we are called to share who we are to everyone. It is this losing of our selves that we are distinguished from the world. The post modern man thinks only of the "I", so he cannot understand us when we choose to do the seemingly foolish things of penance and prayer, of abstinence and self-control, of discipline and asceticism. When we have truly detached ourselves can we be emptied just as Christ was emptied on the cross. Only then can God have the chance to pour out Himself in us, to fill us, to overflowing and we are much more than what we thought we are.

We Religious are called to live this radically. We leave everything: our ordinary lives, our dear families, our raucous friends to follow Christ in obedience, chastity, and poverty. And people cannot help but ask us why throw away so many good opportunities, why live a very structured life, why bind ourselves with vows and rules and constitutions. We have to show them why. It is because of that Man who chose to live it radically that we let go of everything that we might mirror Him in us.

We Salesians are called to live this specifically. "For you I study, for you I work, for I live, for you I am ready even to give my life," Don Bosco promised his boys. And so we ought to live it that way. Nothing must be spared if it concerns the good and salvation of a boy. We become teachers, drivers, carpenters, janitors, instructors, cooks, gardeners, musicians, nannies, writers, engineers, administrators, coaches, and just about anything for this noble mission. We are a little bit of everything. Most of all we are called to be fathers, brothers, and friends. For us, da mihi animas, cetera tolle.

Jesus was all things to all men, from the crib to the cross... from life unto death.

You Do Not Always Have Me

Today's Gospel was quite striking to me. Jesus tells Judas when he remarked on the expensive perfume used by Mary, sister of Lazarus, to anoint Jesus, "Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me." (John 12:7).

When Jesus said "you do not always have me", it spoke of how much limited time Jesus, as man, has. The statement can be interpreted as a stress on the primacy of the love of God over the love of neighbor. However, I'd like to dwell on how it could be seen in another way, that Jesus being man and knowing his time is near, reminds his disciples to cherish each moment he is with them. The time is coming when he won't be physically present to them moving about ordinarily.

It reminded me of the wisdom that we won't have each other for very long. People come and go. No matter how joyful and blissful the moment is, it will have to pass into the past and into the pages of history. What happens today with our beloved ones could only be preserved in memory and sooner or later will have to fade into oblivion just as the rising of the sun erases the shadows of the past day.

We must appreciate, treasure, and enjoy each moment given to us to share and encounter personally our families, friends, and loved ones. May we always make them feel they matter to us. May we always share how much we care for them. It is only in the now that we can hold them, hug them, or kiss them, lest time will snatch them away from our hands.

But we are not to fall into despair. Our Christian hope tells us that only in heaven can we enjoy the full communion that is to be ours with God and with every human. Only in heaven can there be a great family reunion, high school reunion, and batch reunion in perfect attendance. While we are in this journey of life, let us reflect that heavenly intimacy as we prepare for the life in the next.

The Will to Fight

The three-pronged calamity in Japan caused me to fear that my weekly serving of anime will have to be suspended. It would be additional penance for a manga-addict like me. Naruto and Ichigo will have to wait, but to my surprise yesterday, the Shonen Jump sent out an issue which found its way on the web, down to my laptop, and fed as a feast for my eyes.

What I liked most about the latest issue is the question on the Will to Fight. There are really times in our life that our own personal issues get the better of us for us to lose sight of what we are fighting for. There are times when we have lost the reason to fight we are too easily disarmed by the tides of life's war and tossed around in the sea of confusion and desolation. How many of us find ourselves getting bored with the seemingly repetitive, droning, and lifeless routine of daily life? There seems to be a limit to vigor and enthusiasm and we face that distinct wall of questions and confusion.

Here I find the wisdom of Don Bosco very much applicable. We must never lose sight of our final destiny, our ultimate goal, which we need to make our own and part of our very core by repetitive revisiting and renewal, through daily (short but intense) meditation, examination of conscience, and well-placed retreats and recollections. The Will to Fight for any person is founded on his very convictions in life, in the ideals that he believes in, in the values that he holds dear. Losing faith is the very torrent that dissolves the very foundation of setting high goals. Knowing what you are fighting for gives you direction. Believing in it gives you passion.

Yet let us not discount the element of Grace. Nothing in this world exist without grace. Everything except for One, came from nothing. Christian Philosophy says so. Contemporary Science has the Big Bang theory. We may have exerted the best of efforts but we also need divine grace. At most, we beg for it. Grounded on this fundamental truth, we are humbled to know that the fight is not a fight for survival nor of getting ahead of others. It is a fight towards the heights of Perfection Himself.

Never lose your Will to Fight.