A Life Worth Living

It was a private affair for the community. The doors were closed and eight people prayed in the air-conditioned chapel at night. Gone are the festive decorations and letterings. Gone are the majestic voices of the choir. Gone are the invitations and all the other massive and grand preparations of the first profession. This time, it is a simple and intimate profession. Last May 4, 2011, we renewed our profession.

Fr. Charles received our profession in behalf of the Salesian Society and the Church. Fr. Dixie and Fr. Joe were sitting and quietly smiling over us as we once again took our candles, light them up at the Paschal candle, and kneel before the altar we are used to celebrating mass every day.

I once again moved my left hand over the bible and my right holding the lighted candle. There were no camera flashes. The number of priests were much less than before. As I glaze my eyes over the text of religious profession, that 24th article of the constitutions which silently binds me to Christ and His Church, I realize it is the same profession even without the pomp and the romp.

There isn't that much excitement anymore. It is the second time already or perhaps I have become used to this life? But no, it is not the excitement or the time that counts but rather the intent of doing it again, and even more again and again and again in the future.

In a world where happiness is the measure of success I may sound foolish because the life I am living is certainly not the everyday-blissful type. At times it becomes dragging, boring, and even painstakingly burdensome as it becomes light, beautiful, and fluffy in some days. Am I really ready to live this life and soon take the vows for ever? Is it a life worth living? Yes, I have convinced myself a long time ago. It is not about happiness, success, fame, power, standing, or whatever that seemingly add to who I am. It is certainly about finding meaning. It is about finding meaning in who I am, what I am, and what I am for. And I can say with a firm resolve that I can live this life even for ever.

Chastity. Poverty. Obedience. I bind them once more to me. I bind them closely to my heart. I bind them closely to my spirit. For another year I will do my best to live them as Christ did. I know I can fail but it won't stop me from trying. The faithfulness of a Salesian, or of any religious, does not depend on his faith alone, but ever more in the faithfulness of Christ who would continue to love us and call us to Himself despite ourselves.

Blessed be God forever.

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!