Mercy over sacrifice

CHRIST said it plainly: “I will have mercy, and not sacrifice.” He made this declaration after some leading Jews accused his disciples of violating the sabbath by plucking ears of corn to satisfy their hunger. (cfr. Mt 12,1-8) 

 With those words, Christ was teaching a fundamental truth: mercy, compassion, and genuine human need must always take precedence over a rigid and legalistic observance of rules. The sabbath was instituted for man's benefit—for rest, worship, and renewal—not as an oppressive burden. 

 That lesson remains relevant today. We need a proper understanding of laws and the attitude we should have toward them. Laws are necessary and indispensable for maintaining justice, peace, and order in society. Without them, confusion and arbitrariness would prevail. 

 But beyond simple compliance, we should recognize that every law finds its fullest meaning only in the heart of Christ, where justice is always united with mercy and truth is inseparable from charity. 

 That’s why there are occasions when exceptions to human laws can rightly be made. No law, however carefully crafted, can fully capture every concrete human situation or perfectly express the boundless mercy of God. Human legislation is always limited because it is the work of finite minds. It must therefore be interpreted and applied with wisdom, compassion, and a sincere concern for the good of persons. 

 We should be especially vigilant against the danger of legalism, which values the letter of the law while neglecting its spirit. The best safeguard against this temptation is to cultivate a living union with Christ. 

 Everything—including our legal and judicial systems, as well as the drafting, interpretation, and enforcement of laws—should constantly be referred to him. 

 Christ himself made this point unmistakably when the Pharisees questioned him about his disciples' conduct on the sabbath. He answered: “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath. That is why the Son of Man is lord even of the sabbath.” (cfr. Mk 2,23-28) With those words, he restored the proper hierarchy: laws exist to promote authentic human flourishing and ultimately to lead us to God. 

 Our human laws should therefore be grounded on the natural law, which is our participation in God's eternal law. God, our Creator, is the first and ultimate lawgiver, and every just law derives its authority from him. 

 More specifically, the natural moral law recognizes God as the source, foundation, and end of all law. It reminds us that we are created in God's image and likeness, called to become his children and to share in his divine life. Every legal system worthy of the name should respect this transcendent truth and direct the human person toward authentic freedom and moral goodness. 

 A legal system detached from this foundation is already defective from the beginning. When law rests solely on human consensus or changing public opinion, the letter inevitably prevails over the spirit. Man then assumes the role that belongs to God alone, acting as though he were the supreme lawgiver, fully capable of defining truth, justice, and even human nature according to his own preferences. 

 Yet even when our legal system explicitly acknowledges God as the source and end of all law, it still reflects the limitations of our human condition. That is why the letter of the law must always be enlivened by its proper spirit—the Spirit of God, who inspires wisdom, justice, mercy, and charity. 

 For this reason, God must remain at the center of every stage of our legal life: in making laws, interpreting them, and applying them. Only then can our laws truly serve their highest purpose—leading every person toward his ultimate destiny: communion with God, holiness of life, and everlasting happiness in him.

Immersed in the world but not swallowed up and entrapped

CHRISTIANS are not called to flee the world. They are called to transform it. That means living fully in the midst of ordinary affairs—work, family, culture, politics, business, science, and recreation—without allowing these realities to become our masters. We are meant to be immersed in the world, but never swallowed up by it. 

 That distinction matters. 

 The world is God's creation, and therefore it is good. It reflects His wisdom, beauty, and generosity. Yet Scripture also reminds us that this world is not our permanent home. It is a pilgrimage, not the destination. It is where our fidelity is tested and our love purified. The question life constantly poses is whether we truly desire what God desires for us: to become His children, to bear His image, and to share in His divine life. 

 The danger begins when temporal realities cease to be means and become ends. Careers become identities. Wealth becomes security. Success becomes the measure of worth. Pleasure becomes the highest good. Without realizing it, we shift our center of gravity from heaven to earth. 

 That is worldliness—not the use of created things but the worship of them. 

 The Christian vision is far more balanced. We are called to love the world because God loves it. After all, "God so loved the world" that He sent His only Son. Yet loving the world does not mean adopting its values uncritically or allowing its passing attractions to dictate our choices. We are to engage the world without becoming captive to it. 

 This requires interior freedom. 

 Detachment is often misunderstood as indifference or contempt for earthly things. It is neither. Christian detachment means possessing things without letting them possess us. It means enjoying God's gifts while remembering that every gift points beyond itself to the Giver. The more detached we become, the more capable we are of loving both God and the world rightly. 

 That interior freedom does not happen by accident. It is cultivated by constantly referring everything back to God. Before making decisions, pursuing ambitions, or embracing opportunities, we should ask a simple question: Does this bring me closer to God or draw me away from Him? Such discernment keeps earthly pursuits in their proper place. 

 Faith makes this possible. Left to ourselves, we naturally evaluate life according to comfort, profit, prestige, or convenience. Faith widens the horizon. It teaches us to judge everything in the light of eternity rather than the urgency of the moment. But faith can flourish only where humility exists. A proud heart trusts only its own calculations. A humble heart allows God to reshape its vision. 

 This is why every circumstance—whether success or failure, joy or suffering—can become a path toward holiness. The believer learns to ask not merely, "What do I gain from this?" but, more importantly, "What is God asking of me through this?" That shift changes everything. Daily work becomes a vocation. Trials become occasions for growth. Relationships become opportunities for charity. Ordinary life becomes the arena of grace. 

 Christ gives us the principle that orders every other priority: "Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well" (Mt. 6:33). That is not an invitation to neglect earthly responsibilities. It is the surest way to fulfill them without losing our soul. 

 Every day should leave us with the quiet conviction that we are moving closer to God. That is not presumption; it is the very purpose of the Christian life. We are in the world for a reason—but we must never forget that our true home lies beyond it.

Both a deterrent and an incentive

ONE of Christianity’s most profound yet often forgotten truths is that no believer lives in isolation. Through Christ, we become members of one Body, united not merely by common beliefs but by a supernatural communion established through grace. 

 If this truth truly shaped our thinking, we would realize that every thought, word, and action affects not only ourselves but the entire Body of Christ. Nothing we do is ever purely private. 

 St. Paul makes this unmistakably clear. “None of us lives for ourselves alone, and none of us dies for ourselves alone. If we live, we live for the Lord; and if we die, we die for the Lord” (Rom. 14:7–8). Christian life is fundamentally relational. We belong first to Christ, and because we belong to Him, we also belong to one another. 

 Paul expands this vision in First Corinthians through the image of the human body: “If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together” (1 Cor. 12:26). This is more than a beautiful metaphor. It expresses a theological reality. The Church is a living organism whose life flows from Christ, its Head. Every act of fidelity strengthens that Body; every sin, even the most hidden, weakens it. 

 This changes how we understand solitude. We may be physically alone, socially forgotten, or separated by great distances, but we are never truly isolated. God is always present, sustaining our existence and pouring His grace into our lives. Divine providence never ceases. The Christian is never abandoned, even when human companionship is absent. 

 Communion with God also draws us into communion with others. Grace does not simply reconcile us with the Creator; it binds us to every member of Christ’s Body. Created with intellect and will, we are made for this communion. Alienation is not our natural state but a wound caused by sin. The illusion that we exist only for ourselves becomes fertile ground for temptation, discouragement, and despair. 

 This supernatural bond even transcends death. The Church professes the communion of saints—a fellowship that embraces believers on earth, the souls being purified, and the saints already in heavenly glory. Death changes the manner of our communion; it does not destroy it. Hence St. Paul’s triumphant assurance: “Neither death nor life... nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 8:38–39). 

 Once we grasp this doctrine, our moral vision changes. Hidden acts of charity are never insignificant. Quiet sacrifices enrich the whole Church. Likewise, private sins are never entirely private because they wound the communion to which we belong. Christianity therefore rejects radical individualism. We are responsible not only for our own holiness but also, in a real sense, for the spiritual good of others. 

 This awareness should inspire a genuine culture of prayerful solidarity. We pray for one another, remember the faithful departed, and seek the intercession of the saints. Such mutual charity reflects the Church’s deepest identity as the family of God united in Christ. 

 The Eucharist stands at the center of this mystery. In receiving Christ, we are united not only with Him but also with every member of His Body. Holy Communion renews the bonds of charity and reminds us that holiness is never a solitary achievement. The closer we draw to Christ, the closer we draw to one another. 

 Living with this conviction transforms daily life. It becomes easier to resist temptation because we know our choices affect the whole Body. It becomes more natural to forgive, to serve, and to love generously, even when no one notices. Every hidden act of faithfulness strengthens the Church. Every quiet sacrifice becomes a channel of grace. In Christ, no one walks alone, and no act of love is ever lost.

Fear does not have the last word

HUMAN beings are wired to feel fear. We fear danger, uncertainty, loss, illness, failure, and the vast territory of things we do not understand. Fear is not a defect; it is an ancient alarm system, a built-in response that warns us when we perceive a threat. Sometimes it protects us. Sometimes it merely exposes our vulnerability. 

 Because we live in a world crowded with risks, surprises, and mysteries, fear will surface again and again. At times it can even swell into panic. The real challenge, however, is not how to avoid fear altogether. It is how to keep fear from taking command. 

 A raw emotion, left unexamined, can become a tyrant. Fear that remains at the level of instinct or reflex often magnifies the very danger it seeks to escape. Instead of protecting us, it can paralyze judgment, distort perception, and erode hope. That is why fear must be processed, disciplined, and guided. Reason should examine it; faith should illuminate it. 

 Classical philosophy and Christian thought agree on a crucial point: the emotions are not meant to rule the person. They are powerful energies, but they require formation. An educated fear knows when to warn and when to yield. An uneducated fear appears when it should not, disappears when it should not, and constantly exaggerates the shadows. 

 To handle fear well, we must cultivate an interior life strong enough to govern our reactions. Faith is not the denial of danger; it is the refusal to believe that danger is the ultimate reality. It trains the intellect, steadies the will, purifies the imagination, and keeps memory from becoming a warehouse of anxieties. In theological terms, grace does not erase our humanity; it orders and elevates it. 

 We are not merely bodies reacting to stimuli. We are a union of body and soul, capable of transcending immediate circumstances. If we reduce life to the material and the temporary, fear easily becomes our master because everything appears fragile and perishable. But if we recognize that human life also has a spiritual and supernatural horizon, then fear loses its absolute power. 

 Faith widens the frame. It reminds us that reality is larger than what we can measure, predict, or control. It frees us from total dependence on earthly factors and places us under a higher wisdom. The believer is not exempt from storms; he simply learns that the storm is not the final word. 

 So, what should we do when fear strikes? 

 Go to God immediately. Not after panic has exhausted us. 

Not after every human strategy has failed. God first. God already knows the questions we cannot formulate and the wounds we do not yet recognize. Prayer is not an escape from reality; it is a return to the deepest reality. In that encounter, we often receive clarity, practical direction, unexpected peace, and the courage to take the next step. 

 The Gospel repeatedly returns to this theme. Christ never promised a trouble-free life. He promised His presence within it. “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (Jn 16:33). Those words are not sentimental consolation; they are a declaration of victory. 

 When the disciples trembled at the sight of Jesus walking on the water, He answered with a command that still speaks to every anxious heart: “Fear not, it is I.” The Christian response to fear is not bravado. It is trust. Fear may knock at the door, but faith decides who gets to stay in the house.

What is true worship

THE prophet Isaiah delivers a startling message from God. Speaking to the rulers of Sodom and the people of Gomorrha, God asks, “What are your countless sacrifices to me?” 

 He declares that he has had enough of burnt offerings and ritual sacrifices. Instead, he commands them: “Wash yourselves. Make yourselves clean. Remove your evil deeds from my sight. Cease to do evil. Learn to do good. Seek justice. Help the oppressed. Defend the orphan. Plead for the widow” (cf. Isaiah 1:10–17). 

 The point is unmistakable. God is not looking for religious performances. He desires transformed lives. Worship that ends at the altar but never reaches daily life is incomplete. The sacrifice God wants is a heart converted to him and expressed in justice, charity, and holiness. 

 This does not mean that God rejects the Holy Mass, novenas, the rosary, or other devotions. On the contrary, these are precious gifts that nourish our relationship with him. But they lose their meaning if they are disconnected from the way we live. 

 Beautiful liturgies and fervent prayers cannot compensate for dishonesty, selfishness, or indifference toward others. The altar and everyday life must never be separated. 

 It is easy to appear devout inside the church while living by a different standard outside it. We cannot worship God on Sunday and cheat our neighbor on Monday. We cannot kneel before Christ in the Eucharist and then ignore him in the poor, the lonely, or the difficult people we meet. 

 Authentic worship is measured not only by how we pray but also by how we work, forgive, serve, and love. 

 True worship continues after the final blessing of the Mass. It accompanies us to the office, the classroom, the marketplace, and the home. It is reflected in honest work, faithful family life, integrity in business, patience under pressure, and generosity toward those in need. Our prayers should make us more Christ-like, not merely more religious. 

 Unfortunately, modern culture often reduces worship to a private affair between an individual and God. Religion is seen as something confined to churches, chapels, or moments of personal prayer. As long as it remains hidden and does not influence public life, it is considered acceptable. 

 But this view misses the heart of worship. Worship is not simply an activity we perform. It is an attitude that should shape our entire existence. We worship because we are creatures who owe everything to our Creator. Made in God's image and adopted as his children through grace, we are meant to live in constant communion with him. 

 This is why worship cannot be limited to rituals alone. It must embrace every dimension of life. We acknowledge that without God we are nothing, while with him everything has meaning. He cannot be pushed to the margins of our schedule or treated as an occasional concern. He deserves the center of our lives. 

 Every task, every relationship, every success and failure, every joy and every trial can become an offering pleasing to God. Our work, ambitions, sufferings, and daily responsibilities all become acts of worship when united with Christ and carried out for his glory. 

 Isaiah's challenge remains as urgent today as it was centuries ago. God is not impressed by outward displays of religion if they are not matched by inward conversion. The worship that pleases him is the worship that transforms lives—a faith that leaves the church, enters the streets, and makes Christ visible in everything we do.

Psychology needs a proper spirituality

FOR years, psychology has helped us understand the labyrinth of the human mind. It explains why we fear, why we love, why we break, and sometimes even why we heal. Yet amid its remarkable advances, one uncomfortable question persists: Is understanding the mind enough to understand the person? 

 The Christian tradition would answer with a firm no. 

 Psychology excels at describing human behavior. It identifies patterns, diagnoses disorders, and offers therapies that restore emotional balance. These are invaluable contributions. Mental health deserves serious attention, and the growing acceptance of psychological care is one of the healthier developments of modern society. 

 But emotional wellness is not the summit of human fulfillment. 

 This is where spirituality enters—not as psychology's rival but as its indispensable partner. It anchors psychology in its proper place. 

 We, of course, know that that the human person cannot be reduced to biological impulses, emotional reactions, or cognitive processes. We are created for communion with God. Every human experience—joy, work, suffering, success, even failure—finds its deepest meaning only when connected to that relationship. A purely psychological reading of life may explain our emotions, but it cannot answer the question of their real meaning and ultimate purpose. 

 Personal growth involves much more than emotional equilibrium. Authentic maturity includes the formation of virtues, the exercise of freedom, and the cultivation of one's relationship with God. Mental health is essential, but holiness remains the higher horizon. 

 The distinction matters. It should not be forgotten. 

 A person may be psychologically well-adjusted yet spiritually adrift. Another may carry emotional wounds while displaying extraordinary faith, hope, and charity. The two dimensions intersect, but they are not identical. 

 We have to be wary when we confuse feeling good with being good. Our modern culture tends to fall into this trap. 

 That confusion carries consequences. We increasingly evaluate decisions by asking, "Does this make me feel better?" rather than "Is this true?" or "Is this the right thing to do?" Comfort has quietly become the new moral compass. 

 Psychology, when detached from a sound understanding of the human person, can unintentionally reinforce this tendency. Therapy risks becoming an endless pursuit of self-satisfaction instead of a path toward genuine self-giving. 

 Christian spirituality proposes a radically different vision. 

 It teaches that the deepest fulfillment comes not from constant self-focus but from self-transcendence. Love demands sacrifice. Freedom requires responsibility. Peace grows from reconciliation—with God, with others, and with oneself. These realities cannot be measured on a psychological scale alone. 

 None of this diminishes the importance of professional mental health care. On the contrary, spiritual directors should know when psychological intervention is needed, just as therapists should recognize that many of life's deepest questions belong to the realm of meaning, conscience, and faith. The healthiest approach is not competition but collaboration between psychology and spirituality. 

 Perhaps the greatest lesson psychology and spirituality can teach each other is humility. 

 Psychology reminds believers that grace builds on nature. Emotional wounds deserve compassion, not simplistic moral judgments. Spirituality reminds psychology that human beings are more than the sum of their neurons, memories, and emotions. We possess a soul that longs for truth, goodness, beauty, and ultimately, God. 

 In an age fascinated by wellness, perhaps what we need is not merely better coping mechanisms but a fuller vision of the human person. 

 The mind deserves healing. 

 The heart deserves meaning. 

 And the soul deserves nothing less than God!

The Divine Sower still sows—Is our heart ready?

THE readings for the 15th Sunday in Ordinary Time (Year A) deliver a timeless reminder: God never stops sowing. The Divine Sower tirelessly scatters the seed of his living Word into every human heart, always hoping it will take root, grow, and bear abundant fruit. 

 The question is not whether God continues to sow. He does. The real question is whether we are the kind of soil that welcomes his Word. 

 The seed Christ speaks about is no ordinary seed. It is the living and life-giving Word of God. It is meant not merely to inform us but to transform us, shaping us into the sons and daughters God created us to be. 

 That is why the Church continually urges us to read, meditate on, and live the Scriptures. The Bible is not simply a collection of ancient writings or inspiring literature. It is God's living voice, speaking to us today with the same power with which it first went forth from his mouth. 

 The prophet Isaiah beautifully captures this truth. Just as rain and snow descend from heaven to water the earth, making it fruitful and productive, so God's Word never returns empty. It always fulfills its mission. It accomplishes what God intends and bears fruit wherever it finds a willing heart. 

 This is why the Gospel never becomes outdated. Its pages may have been written centuries ago, but its message is forever new because it is alive. Every passage has something fresh to say to every generation and to every person. God's Word speaks to our present circumstances, our struggles, our hopes, and our decisions. It always points us toward the life we are meant to live. 

 In the Parable of the Sower, Christ describes different kinds of soil. Some hearts are hardened. Others are shallow or distracted. Only the good soil receives the seed, nurtures it, and allows it to produce an abundant harvest. 

 That parable is not merely a story about people long ago. It is about us. Every day, God sows his Word into our lives through Scripture, prayer, the liturgy, and the events of ordinary life. He continues to guide us, correct us, encourage us, and reveal both the bigger picture of his plan and the practical steps we need to take today. 

 Becoming good soil requires effort. We must develop the habit of spending quality time with the Gospel—not simply reading it as another book but listening to it with an attentive heart. We should never assume that because we have heard a passage many times, we have exhausted its meaning. God's Word always has something new to reveal. 

 St. Jerome expressed this truth with striking simplicity: "Ignorance of the Scriptures is ignorance of Christ." He also reminded us, "When we pray, we speak to God. When we read Scripture, God speaks to us." 

 One particularly fruitful practice is to place ourselves within the Gospel scene. Imagine standing beside Christ. Listen to his words. Observe the people around him. Ask questions. Notice details. Let your imagination, guided by faith, make the scene come alive. 

 Soon the Gospel stops being a distant story. It becomes your story. Christ's words become personal. His invitations become concrete. His challenges demand a response. 

 That is how the seed bears fruit. 

 The more we allow God's Word to shape our thoughts, choices, and actions, the more we realize that we are not living by our own strength alone. We are living with Christ, walking beside him each day. And there is no richer, fuller, or more meaningful way to live than as God's faithful children, nourished constantly by his living Word.

Be prepared to be a sheep among wolves

CHRIST never sugarcoated the cost of following him. As he sent his apostles to the “lost sheep of Israel” (Mt. 10:16-23), he gave them a sobering warning: they would face rejection, persecution, and suffering. They would be hauled before councils, scourged in synagogues, and dragged before governors and kings because they bore his name. Their trials, however, would become a testimony not only to Israel but also to the Gentiles. 

 Still, Christ did not leave them trembling in fear. He immediately gave them an assurance that remains just as relevant today. “Do not worry,” he said. When they were called to defend themselves, they were not to be anxious about preparing clever speeches. God himself would provide the words. “It is not you who speak, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.” 

 What a liberating lesson! Christ was asking his disciples to trust more in divine grace than in human preparation. Their greatest strength would not come from eloquence or strategy but from the Holy Spirit working within them. 

 Yet this trust was never an excuse for carelessness. Jesus paired it with another command that has lost none of its force: “Be wise as serpents and innocent as doves.” Christians are expected to combine prudence with purity, intelligence with humility, and courage with gentleness. They should not be gullible before evil, but neither should they answer evil with more evil. They must remain meek without becoming weak. 

 Christ also taught them that prudence sometimes requires retreat. Escaping danger when necessary is not cowardice if it allows the mission to continue. The goal is not to seek persecution but to remain faithful to the task of proclaiming Christ wherever circumstances permit. 

 That same mission belongs to every Christian today. To accept Christ's call is to embrace a love that reflects God's own love—a love that perseveres, sacrifices, and remains steadfast regardless of the cost. 

 It is much like the promise exchanged by husband and wife on their wedding day: to love each other for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, until death. Authentic Christian commitment is measured not by convenience but by fidelity. 

 Such perseverance, however, does not happen automatically. It demands constant nourishment. The spiritual and supernatural dimensions of love must be cultivated through prayer, reflection, and a living relationship with God. Otherwise, commitment gradually becomes shallow, driven only by emotion or personal comfort. 

 In today's culture, love is often reduced to feelings, attraction, or emotional satisfaction. While emotions and passions are valuable gifts, they cannot carry love by themselves. Feelings change. Circumstances shift. Difficulties arise. 

 That is why genuine love must be anchored in the higher powers of the human person—the intellect that recognizes what is true and good, and the will that freely chooses to remain faithful even when emotions fade. These are the faculties that lift love beyond the merely human into the supernatural. 

 Ultimately, God is the source, pattern, strength, and destiny of every authentic commitment. The closer we remain to him, the more enduring our love becomes. Prayer is therefore not an optional devotion but the lifeline that keeps commitment alive. 

 Life will always bring setbacks, disappointments, and unexpected crosses. But the person whose love is rooted in God will not be easily shaken. Sustained by divine grace, that love continues to burn through every trial, remains faithful amid life's uncertainties, and bears lasting witness to Christ in a world that desperately needs both courage and hope.

On the paths of providence

WHEN Christ sent his apostles to proclaim the Gospel, he did not simply give them a mission. He gave them a way of life. 

 "Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse the lepers, cast out demons. Freely you have received; freely give." Then came the startling instruction: "Take no gold or silver or copper in your belts; no bag for the journey, no extra tunic, no sandals or staff." (Mt. 10:8-10) 

 Those words were radical then, and they remain radical today. Jesus was teaching his followers to let go of self-sufficiency and place their confidence entirely in God. Their mission was not to be driven by comfort, possessions, or financial security, but by faith, generosity, and an unwavering commitment to bringing God's kingdom to others. 

 That challenge was not meant only for the Twelve Apostles. It extends to every Christian who sincerely wants to follow Christ. While not everyone is called to abandon material possessions literally, all are called to cultivate the same spirit of trust. We are asked to give ourselves generously, work diligently, and yet rely first and foremost on God's loving providence. 

 Life will never be free from uncertainty. Plans change. Opportunities disappear. Unexpected trials arrive without warning. Yet the Christian does not build security on circumstances but on the certainty that God never abandons those who seek him. 

 St. Paul captures this confidence with unforgettable words: "If God is for us, who can be against us?" (Rom. 8:31). That does not mean believers will be spared suffering. It means that no difficulty, failure, or opposition can ultimately defeat those who remain united with God. His love is stronger than every obstacle, and his grace is greater than every weakness. 

 For this reason, fear should never have the final word. We move forward sustained by prayer, strengthened by the sacraments, purified through sacrifice, and guided by grace. Even when life seems confusing, we remember the familiar saying that God can write straight with crooked lines. Not everything that happens is good in itself, but through Christ, everything can become part of God's saving plan. As St. Paul reminds us, all things work together for the good of those who love God. 

 That conviction gives Christians an adventurous spirit. We continue making plans, setting goals, and pursuing them with determination, but we also recognize that God's providence is always at work, often in ways we cannot immediately understand. Nothing escapes his loving care. Even our mistakes, failures, and painful experiences can become pathways leading us closer to him if we allow his grace to transform them. 

 God's providence never sleeps. From the beginning of creation until the end of time, he lovingly guides history and every human life. Much of what he accomplishes remains hidden from our eyes, but his hand is always at work, quietly directing events toward his greater purpose. 

 That is why faith must go beyond appearances. Human logic alone may judge certain situations as hopeless, impossible, or even absurd. God, however, sees what we cannot. 

 The story of Abraham illustrates this perfectly. Asked to offer his beloved son Isaac, Abraham obeyed because he trusted God's promise more than his own understanding. That extraordinary faith made him the father of many nations. God never wastes our fidelity. He can draw blessings even from painful sacrifices and bring good out of the evil we have committed or suffered. 

 Our task, then, is simple but demanding: seek Christ in everything. Let the search for him become second nature, an instinct that shapes every decision and every response. The more we find him, the more we learn to love him. And the more we love him, the more we become like him.

Music and our spiritual life

MUSIC has always been more than entertainment. It is woven into the fabric of human life and, more importantly, into our spiritual journey. The Bible alone testifies to this truth, containing hundreds of references to singing, musical instruments, and songs. From the Psalms to the heavenly choirs in Revelation, music has long been a powerful expression of faith and worship. 

 In everyday life, music speaks a language that words often cannot. It comforts us in moments of sorrow, lifts our spirits when we are weary, energizes us during physical activity, and calms us after stressful days. It has an extraordinary ability to reach the heart, making it one of humanity's most universal forms of expression. 

 Music also brings people together. Whether in worship, celebration, or shared moments of grief, singing creates a common rhythm that unites individuals into a community. It strengthens relationships and even rekindles memories. A familiar melody can instantly transport us to a cherished moment, reminding us of people, places, and experiences that shaped our lives. 

 Its spiritual power, however, goes even deeper. Music helps quiet the distractions of the mind and opens the heart to God. Sacred songs allow us to absorb biblical truths and prayers in a way that remains with us long after the final note fades. When words seem inadequate to express our deepest hopes, fears, gratitude, or love, music gives the soul its own vocabulary for speaking with God. 

 Unlike simply listening to a sermon or reading a devotional book, singing engages the whole person. Mind, heart, voice, and body work together in worship, making our encounter with God more personal, vivid, and transformative. 

 Music is, in many ways, a bridge between the human and the divine. It transcends rhythm, melody, and technique to awaken something profound within us. It stirs the soul, deepens prayer, and makes God's presence more real and more compelling. 

 As music continues to evolve, countless styles and genres have emerged—from classical masterpieces to contemporary worship and modern popular music. Change is natural, but one principle should remain constant: music must always lead us closer to God. Not every trend deserves to be embraced without discernment. We should evaluate the music we listen to and perform according to whether it nourishes what is good, true, and holy. 

 For me, music touches a mysterious meeting place between body and spirit, between the visible and the invisible. It has the remarkable ability to elevate the ordinary into something sacred, transforming everyday experiences into moments of grace. It awakens not only our emotions but our deepest longing for God. 

 Music also expands our vision of life. It allows us to explore the heights of hope, the depths of suffering, and the richness of the human experience. In many ways, it reaches beyond what our senses and intellect alone can grasp. It gives fresh perspective and opens new horizons. 

 Perhaps that is why music speaks directly to the heart. It expresses feelings that often remain hidden beneath words and connects people across cultures, backgrounds, and generations. Its appeal is universal because it reflects something universal within us. 

 At its best, music draws its inspiration from God—His love, wisdom, mercy, humility, and truth. Such music possesses a beauty that surpasses mere artistry because it points beyond itself to the Creator. That is why we should be careful not to become captivated by music that leads us away from what is objectively good. The finest music does not simply entertain; it elevates, inspires, and ultimately brings us closer to God.

Reflecting Christ’s compassion in our life

ONE unmistakable mark of a true child of God is this: like Christ, we are willing to complicate our life for the good of others. We do not run away from inconvenience when someone needs our help—whether materially, emotionally, or spiritually. Love always demands something, and genuine love never settles for comfort. 

 That is exactly what Christ showed when he saw the crowds. The Gospel says he "was moved with compassion for them, because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd" (Mt 9:36). He did not look the other way. He did not excuse himself. He allowed their needs to become his concern. 

 We are called to do the same. If we truly want to follow Christ, we have to be ready to complicate our lives by making room for others. Their problems become, in a way, our own. Their burdens invite our generosity. This is how charity ceases to be a nice idea and becomes a concrete way of life. 

 In fact, the more our life resembles Christ's, the more complicated it will inevitably become. We will have more responsibilities, more sacrifices, more interruptions, and more occasions to forget ourselves. Yet these very complications become opportunities for holiness. They stretch our patience, strengthen our virtues, and deepen our love for God and neighbor. 

 The important thing is not to complain about these complications. As long as we remain united with Christ, they will never overwhelm us. Instead of seeing them as burdens, we can see them as privileged occasions to love. What appears to be a heavy load becomes a joyful participation in Christ's saving mission. 

 More than simply accepting life's complications, we should willingly embrace them. We should not wait until difficulties come knocking at our door. We should actively involve ourselves in Christ's work, making ourselves available to those who need our time, attention, encouragement, and service. Love is proactive, not passive. 

 Of course, this requires preparation. We need to strengthen ourselves physically, emotionally, mentally, morally, and above all spiritually. A generous heart needs a strong foundation. Prayer, the sacraments, good formation, and self-discipline equip us to give ourselves without burning out or giving up. 

 Christ remains our perfect model. His heart was always alert to the needs of others. He noticed the unnoticed, sought out the forgotten, and responded with quiet generosity. Remarkably, after performing great miracles, he often told people not to publicize what he had done. He sought neither applause nor recognition. Love was enough. 

 Such compassion demands deep humility and real self-denial. It asks us to forget ourselves so that faith, hope, and charity can take full possession of our heart. Only then can compassion become more than emotion; it becomes self-giving love that perseveres. 

 This is especially urgent today. Our culture subtly teaches us to prioritize ourselves—to protect our comfort, chase personal fulfillment, and avoid inconvenience. The Gospel points in the opposite direction. It invites us to develop the habit of thinking first of others, sincerely wishing them well, and doing whatever good we can. 

 It is not easy. But with God's grace and daily effort, this way of living gradually becomes second nature. We learn to rejoice with those who rejoice and to weep with those who weep. Compassion begins in the heart, where prayers, sacrifices, and generous desires know no limits. Even when our material resources are limited, our capacity to love is never exhausted. That is the compassion of Christ, and it should become ours.

Embracing the adventure of faith when all else fails

THAT part of the Gospel about the ruler whose daughter had died and the woman suffering from a long illness (Mt. 9:18–26) offers us a powerful lesson on faith, hope, and complete trust in Christ. 

 Though their situations were different, both individuals shared one thing in common: they turned to Christ when all human solutions had failed. Their confidence in Him transformed their desperation into deliverance, something that we should learn to do also. 

 The ruler publicly pleaded with Jesus to restore his daughter to life, despite the seemingly impossible situation. The woman, on the other hand, quietly approached Him through the crowd, convinced that simply touching His garment would bring healing. Both acted with unwavering faith, and both received the miracle they sought. 

 Their example reminds us that whenever we encounter trials beyond our strength, our first response should be to seek Christ. Rather than allowing ourselves to be consumed by sadness, self-pity, or discouragement, we should place our trust in the One for whom nothing is impossible. Even when a solution does not come immediately, God’s providence assures us that His plans always lead to our ultimate good, whether in this life or in eternal life. 

 We naturally experience limitations, not to mention our weaknesses. We face illness, suffering, failure, disappointment, and eventually death. Yet deep within us is a longing that reaches beyond these earthly boundaries. This desire reflects the truth that we are not merely physical beings. We have been created with both body and soul, destined not only for this world but also for eternal communion with God. 

 Because of this, our lives are guided by more than physical, social, or economic principles and realities. Above every human law is the law of grace—the supernatural gift that enables us to share in God's own life. 

 Grace strengthens us to overcome our weaknesses without denying our humanity. It allows us to see life's difficulties from the perspective of faith and to trust that God's love is always at work, even when we cannot fully understand His ways. 

 Learning to live by grace means becoming comfortable with the reality that our earthly journey includes moments of helplessness. Instead of fearing these moments, we can view them as opportunities to surrender more completely to God's providence. Yes, when we refer everything to God, even our limitations, weaknesses and the other negative elements in our life will work for the good. (cfr. Rom 8,28) 

 When we reach the limits of our own abilities, His mercy begins to accomplish what we never could on our own. So, rather than wasting time complaining about our circumstances or feeling defeated, we are invited to embrace the adventure of faith. 

 God knows our struggles, understands our fears, and continually guides us toward a greater good. Even when life seems filled with contradictions, His wisdom and love remain constant. 

 The Gospel assures us that our limitations and the evils of this world do not have the final word. God's mercy, His providence, and His boundless love are greater than every hardship we face. As Christ raised the ruler's daughter and healed the suffering woman, He also offers us the hope of new life. 

 Whenever we reach the limits of our strength, let us confidently place ourselves in God's hands. Through Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit, He leads us beyond despair toward hope, beyond weakness toward grace, and ultimately beyond death to the promise of eternal life.

The importance of being meek and humble

CHRIST tells us why. “I confess to thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth,” he said, “because thou hast hidden these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them to the little ones.” (Mt 11,25) 

 In short, God’s wisdom can only be shared if we are like the little ones referred to by Christ, i.e. when we are humble. We have to be wary of our tendency to seek the truth and wisdom for our own sake, and not for the glory of God. We want to be knowledgeable so we can become more self-sufficient and less dependent on God. In other words, we would just use God for our own interest. 

 The same is true when we need some rest. We have to be meek and humble, as Christ himself said very clearly, if we want to have the real rest that is proper to us as children of God. 

 It is a rest that is not only physical or emotional or natural. It is one that involves our whole selves, body and soul resting in the very home of our life who is God. When we are not meek and humble, our idea of rest would get stuck on the natural level. 

 When we are meek and humble, we would know that true wisdom can only come to us if we believe and follow Christ through our Christian faith. We have to be wary and be properly guarded against the strong pressure to acquire our wisdom from our own estimation of things and from other sources. 

 We are always in need of faith. We can never say that we have enough faith. We should never be complacent in this regard. Faith is an ever-dynamic thing that needs to grow and grow as well as to inspire us more deeply, thoroughly and consistently. 

 We need to make it grow to cope with our natural needs. In this level alone, we always need faith to make things very clear for us, even if in theory we can handle the natural challenges and difficulties we can encounter in life. 

 We cannot deny that there are just too many of these natural challenges and difficulties for us to handle with a certain ease and confidence. Especially these days when the pace of development is faster, and the developments themselves are more complicated and tricky, we need the light of faith to see things properly. 

 Besides, it is faith that gives the ultimate meaning and proper direction to all our human knowledge and endeavors. It is what gives the original perspective to all events, good or bad, in our life. Otherwise, we would end up confused and lost. 

 With regard to our rest, we should not just look for it through earthly solutions. Our rest should involve our whole being that is not only material and natural, but also, and most especially, spiritual and supernatural. 

 Unless our rest covers these latter dimensions, we can never find true rest. We may have some degree of physical relief which, if not related to the spiritual and the supernatural, can only poise us to greater dangers sooner or later. 

 To be sure, our true and proper rest can only be found in Christ. He gives us the rest that is not only physical. It is a rest that includes all the aspects of our life—emotional, psychological, mental, moral and spiritual. We need to broaden our understanding of rest to go beyond the physical dimension. 

 Again, this can only take place when we are meek and humble. It’s the condition that opens us to Christ in our need for rest.

Christ meets us in our doubts

THE story of the doubting Thomas brings to light the phenomenon about doubts in our Christian faith. We should not be surprised by it. We know that doubts about our faith can easily rise in our mind for a number of reasons. 

 Why do we doubt sometimes? Because our capacity to know things well is hampered by a number of limitations and factors. We tend to depend too much on our senses, we can commit mistakes in our reasoning, we can have biases that color the way we see things, we are dealing with things spiritual and supernatural that are beyond our natural powers of knowing, etc. 

 We cannot deny that we can have some doubts, for example, about who Christ is and what he is to us. These days in the world in general, we can see strong evidence of a culture of skepticism, agnosticism, religious indifferentism, if not, outright atheism. 

 This should come as no surprise to us because even during the time of Christ, many of the supposedly religious leaders were skeptical of him and were often suspicious of him, always trying to find fault in him. 

 The quick reason for that phenomenon is that the person of Christ is largely shrouded by mysteries that are difficult if not impossible for us to understand fully. That he is both God and man, that he was brought to earth through a virgin birth, are just some of the mysteries many people do not even bother to consider. 

 There are, of course, many other reasons. Many people are lazy and do not bother to know Christ, let alone, study the gospels. And even the Bible is considered by many people as a mere collection of myths and legends. And we can go on and on with reasons for the lack of interest in Christ. 

 But what we can do is first of all really to pray, to humble ourselves, realizing that the question about Christ is a matter of faith which is a supernatural gift that can only be appreciated by us if we are humble enough to accept and correspond to that gift. Of course, Christ can strike a most powerful grace to convert a person instantly into a man of faith, much like what happened to St. Paul also. 

 What we should do is to be humble to acknowledge these limitations and be guarded against them. Specifically, we should be humble enough to ask God for that gift of faith which he is all too willing to give us. And from there, we should just have to make many acts of faith in God and in things related him, even as we study the doctrine of our faith, trying to assimilate them in our life. 

 This way we would be imitating the attitude of many of the Biblical characters, especially like Our Lady who, in spite of not fully understanding how she was going to be the Mother of God, simply said “Be it done to me according to your word.” 

 But let’s remember that Christ is not scandalized by our doubts. He may reproach us for them, but he will not remain indifferent to that wounded condition of ours. Like in the case of St. Thomas, Christ would be willing to clarify them for us in his own mysterious ways. 

 In short, our doubts should spur us some more to get closer to God rather than to run away from him. That’s why we need to be humble.

Christ cares and heals both our body and soul

THAT’S what we can learn from that gospel episode about some people presenting a paralytic to Christ, asking for healing. (cfr. Mt 9,1-8) Taking note of their faith in him, Christ did not delay in responding to their plea. But instead of curing the body immediately, Christ cured first the soul by saying: “Courage, child, your sins are forgiven.” 

 Of course, the usual villains took issue with what Christ did, accusing him of blasphemy. That’s when Christ, to show his divine authority, asked the paralytic to stand up and walk. And when the paralytic managed to stand up and walk, the crowd was completely left awe-struck and could not help but glorify God. 

 In this moment, Christ wanted to show that reconciling the soul is a more profound healing than repairing the body, that spiritual restoration—forgiveness—is the ultimate healing. As a corollary, he wanted to show that it is sin that is the deepest paralysis, making forgiveness the most necessary healing. He wanted to make it clear that healing the inner person is paramount, and that a restored soul is greater than a cured body. 

 Christ, of course, is also interested in giving our body its ideal condition. And we should also be. But we should make sure that our concern for the health of our body, which can make use of whatever human means are available, should never compromise our complete reliance first on God’s grace and mercy. 

 We have to remember that our body cannot achieve its distinction as being human if it is not animated by our spiritual soul that in turn should channel the very spirit of God. Without the spirit of God, our body would not be much different from the body of an animal. 

 Our body and soul should be properly united. This is how the Catechism describes this unity: “The unity of soul and body is so profound that one has to consider the soul to be the ‘form’ of the body, i.e., it is because of its spiritual soul that the body made of matter becomes a living, human body; spirit and matter, in man, are not two natures united, but rather their union forms a single nature.” (CCC 365) 

 This clarification is significant for it would show us that somehow the condition of the body is determined to some extent by the condition of the soul, and vice-versa. There is some kind of correlation between the two, though not in a strictly one-to-one mathematical kind of correlation. 

 To put it bluntly, we cannot say that just because one has an ugly face or a frail body, he too has an ugly soul or a weak soul. That is absolutely foul. In the lives of saints and holy men and women, we can see a beautiful soul in ugly faces and sickly bodies. 

 In fact, we have these prophetic words from the Book of Isaiah that described the future Christ: “He had no stately form or majesty to attract us, no beauty that we should desire him.” (53,2) 

 So, we have to be careful with making judgments based on looks alone and other external things. Just the same, we have to say that when the body is sick, especially of the mental, emotional, psychological kind, we cannot say that the illness is due exclusively to some organic malfunction. The condition of the soul has something to do with it also. 

 The main point to learn here is that the unity of our body and soul should have Christ as its living principle.

From knowing to believing

WE somehow can get that idea of how we can shift from simply knowing to what is more important, which is to believe, after considering that gospel episode about Christ meeting two men possessed by devils. (cfr. Mt 8,28-34) The devils, upon meeting Christ, said: “What have we to do with thee, Jesus Son of God? Are thou come hither to torment us before the time?” To be sure, the devils knew who Christ was, and yet they could not bring themselves to believe in him. In fact, all they do is to disobey and go against God. This is where we are reminded that we should not remain only in the level of knowing God. Of course, we have to know God as much as we can. In this regard, we cannot overemphasize the need to study as deeply and thoroughly as possible all that we can know about him. But we have to see to it that we truly believe in God, giving our all to him, and not only our intelligence. While we have to know God as much as we can, we have to see to it that our knowledge filters down to our whole being to such an extent that we truly give our whole selves to him. That’s what believing is. We go from knowing to believing to loving and to serving. When we believe we turn knowledge into life itself. And we also have to consider that in believing, while it depends on our human understanding about God and things in general, it actually depends first of all on that supernatural gift of faith which God himself gives us, especially through the sacraments. We should continually ask for this grace, nourish it by constant acts of faith, and let it bloom into deeds. We have to always remember that given the fact that we are not meant to remain only in the natural level, relying simply on our human powers, but rather are meant to enter and share the supernatural life of God since we are his image and likeness, we have to be clear that we have to be guided by faith rather than simply by our own reasoning and our other human ways of knowing. Faith is God sharing his knowledge with us. It is how we begin to share the life of God. And he gives it to us very willingly. It just depends on us on whether we receive it or not, and to respond to it or not. Faith contains truths that go beyond the natural realities of our life. Thus, it has supernatural truths or mysteries which we have to learn to feel at home with. This means we have to learn not to stick to our natural reasoning alone, but to go beyond it. To be sure, faith does not supplant our reasoning or intelligence. Rather, it makes full use of it, although its scope is far wider and deeper than what our intelligence can fully know and understand. As the Catechism puts it, faith is first of all a gratuitous gift of God, it is grace. But it also requires the correspondence of our intelligence. It is also a human act. It asks us to do our best to understand it as much as we can. It seeks understanding. We have to remember that since the reality that governs us transcends the natural order, our human faculty of intelligence and reasoning just cannot depend on the data provided by our senses and our own understanding of things.

Staying calm amid life’s storms

THAT’S what we can learn from that gospel episode about Christ’s disciples caught in a storm while in the middle of the sea. (cfr. Mt 8,23-27) They, at first, were gripped with fear, a very understandable reaction. 

 And when they noticed Christ simply sleeping in the boat, they woke him up, expressing their fear. That’s when Christ simply stood up and calmed the turbulent sea, leaving them greatly astonished. But Christ faulted them for their lack of faith. 

 Yes, we too can easily be frozen in fear when we encounter the different forms of life’s storms. But like Our Lord’s disciples, we should just go immediately to him and ask for his help. And to be sure, he will always be there to help, but maybe in ways that may escape our understanding. In this, we should not be surprised and start to loosen our faith in God’s powerful and wise ways. 

 There’s really no reason to be too worried and anxious when we encounter some difficulty in our life. In fact, we have every reason to be confident and at peace, focused on what we are supposed to do. And that’s because we are always in God’s hands. 

 Whatever situation we may be in, we can be sure that God will always provide for what is truly needed by us, and it may not be what we want. We just have to trust him completely for he knows better than we do, and what we want may not be what we need. It may not even be what is good for us. 

 God always knows what to do in any situation we may find ourselves in. He may allow some evil to come to us, an evil that can do us no harm unless we let it, but God knows how to draw good from evil. 

 Ours is simply to trust God completely, and out of that trust, we should always feel confident and courageous to do what we are supposed to do. We should not waste our time lamenting and feeling like a victim, or wallowing in doubts, passivity and self-pity. 

 We have to remove ourselves from that state mentioned by St. Paul in his Letter to the Ephesians: “children tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the cunning of men, by their craftiness in deceitful wiles.” (4,14) We have to keep going. There are a lot of things to do. 

 Yes, there will always be challenges, problems, difficulties that humanly speaking may be impossible for us to tackle. But as long as we have trust in God, we can sincerely echo St. Paul’s words: “I can do all things in him who strengthens me.” (Phil 4,13) These words have been verified to be true in the lives of all the saints, especially the martyrs. 

 It’s important that we be confident and at peace always, because that would put us in the proper condition to do the things we are supposed to do. It will make us bold and courageous, fruitful and productive. 

 It is a confidence that is not presumptuous. It goes together with prudence, discretion and tact. It is meek and humble, not pompous, arrogant and vain. It reassures and inspires people. It would make us credible in our witnessing to Christ’s saving message. 

 It is a confidence that is both in heaven and on earth. It happily blends eternity and time. It is not simply theoretical. It is also realistic and practical.

From human weakness to greatness

THAT’S what can come to mind as we celebrate the Solemnity of St. Peter and Paul on June 29. They were men with their share of human weaknesses and imperfections and yet they became the pillars and foundational columns of the Church. 

 We all know how St. Peter was. He denied Christ three times. He received from Christ that most severe and corrective rebuke, “Get behind me, Satan” (Mt 16,23) when he tried to prevent Christ from fulfilling his redemptive mission of offering his life on the cross. 

 St. Paul was hardly any different. Before his conversion, he aggressively attacked the early Christians. And even after conversion, he continued to be hounded by his weaknesses that at one point, to prevent him from being conceited, he was given a “thorn in the flesh.” (cfr. 2 Cor 12,7) 

 But what made them great was their faith in Christ and in the power of grace that always triumphs whatever human frailty they had. St. Paul articulated this when he said: “Where sin abounded, grace abounded much more.” (Rom 5,20) 

 The lesson to learn here is for us to know how to convert our weaknesses into the occasion to grow in strength. And the secret is to assume the identity of Christ and his attitude toward all forms of human weaknesses and limitations. He himself assumed our human weaknesses even to the extent of making himself like sin without committing sin, if only to save us from our fatal predicament. (cfr. 2 Cor 5,21) 

 If we would just open ourselves to the possibility of taking that leap of faith to become like Christ who gives us all the means to be so, what may appear to us as an impossibility due to our weakness and limitations can become possible. 

 We should make St. Paul’s words, “For when I am weak, then I am strong,” (2 Cor 12,10) also as our own, and feel reassured and consoled every time we are hounded and burdened by all sorts of difficulties and troubles, including when we are tempted and fall into sin. 

 We have to know what exactly St. Paul meant by those words. What we can readily see is that he made all these predicaments a reason for him to go to Christ, to identify himself more closely with Christ who went all the way to making himself like sin without committing sin just to save us. (cfr. 2 Cor 5,21) 

 We have to learn how to react to all these negative and evil elements in our life from the point of view of our Christian faith, and never just from our own estimation of things that would often lead us to be scandalized, to feel bad and discouraged, and to run away from the one who can resolve everything for us, including those problems we cannot anymore resolve. 

 Our faith in God can still work and function even if we are down spiritually and morally, because it is, first of all, a gift from God who will always give it to us irrespective of how we have been behaving. We should just try our best to receive it and to correspond to it as best that we can. 

 We need to trust in God’s providence and mercy. We have to learn to live a spirit of abandonment in the hands of God. Yes, if we have faith in God, in his wisdom and mercy, in his unfailing love for us, we know that everything will always work out for the good. (cfr. Rom 8,28) Our weaknesses can be the gateway for our greatness, the greatness of the children of God!

Christ above and before all else

THAT’S what Christ meant when he said: “He that loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me; and he that loveth son or daughter more than me, is not worthy of me. And he that taketh not up his cross, and followeth me, is not worthy of me. He that findeth his life, shall lose it. Ad he that shall lose his life for me, shall find it.” (Mt 10,37-39) 

 Scary words, to say the least! But if we study and meditate on them with our faith and piety, we know that we are actually given the best deal. That’s because by making Christ the first and our everything in our life, we would know how to properly love everyone else and to deal with whatever situation and condition we find ourselves in this life. He is “the way, the truth and the life” for us. 

 He is giving us the proper order of love. We cannot deny that if we are not guided by our faith, our loving can only replicate the love among animals. In spite of some signs of tenderness and care, it would simply be wild and raw, hardly going above the instinctive level that can be brutal. 

 We need to always look for Christ, to be with him and to follow him. That’s where we can find what is good for us in any situation we can find ourselves in. If that is not yet our greatest desire, then it’s about time that we train ourselves to acquire such desire. 

 What is that? The simple answer is because Christ already conquered what is not good for us. More than that, he has made all the negative elements in our life as a way to our salvation and eternal joy. He gives us the strength that we need, as expressed once in the Book of Isaiah who said: “They that hope in the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall take wings as eagles; they shall run and not wear; they shall walk and not faint.” (40,31) 

 Even in our difficulties and suffering, such condition of lightness, peace, etc., should be felt. After all, it would be Christ who would be bearing them more than us. We simply share a little of the weight. And when we share it with him, we would know that such difficulties and suffering have some positive value. 

 We should be wary when we are complacent in this duty of looking for Christ in everything that we do. We have to look for him, so we can find him and be with him, and share what he has with us. 

 We have to be wary when we would just allow ourselves to be dominated or ruled by our earthly condition—our moods, bodily health, the temper of the times, etc. We should be guided always by our faith which, by the way, is a gift God gives us always in abundance. The gift of faith is no problem. It’s never in short supply. 

 Right at the start of the day, let’s take the decision to be ruled by our faith, and not simply by our earthly condition, and to start looking for Christ. With him, we are assured of a happy life despite whatever. Our outlook in life would always be marked by optimism and confidence. Yes, Christian life is always a happy life!

The touch that makes us clean

THE story of the leper who took the effort to get close to Christ, asking for healing, (cfr. Mt 8,1-4) teaches us several powerful lessons about faith, humility, God’s authority and the right use of good works. 

 As the story goes, a leper approaches Christ, kneels and begs: “Lord, if you choose, you can make me clean.” And Christ responds not so much with power as with mercy as he stretches out his hand and touches the leper: “I do choose. Be made clean!” 

 Let us remind ourselves that though we may not have the condition of leprosy, we cannot deny that we are dirty, no matter how much we try to be clean, and we gravely need to be healed, to be pardoned and purified. Our weaknesses and sinfulness will always be with us all our life. We always need to go to Christ, begging for spiritual and moral healing. 

 But, yes, whenever we have physical illness or problems regarding our bodily health, we should not hesitate to go to Christ, asking for healing. Let’s imitate the example of the leper who humbly asked for a miraculous cure. But let’s take note also that he did this without forcing Christ. He opened his request by saying, “If you will” or “If you choose,” showing the kind of faith he had by letting Christ decide what to do with his plea. 

 It’s a good example of how we should make our requests to God, even those that are urgent to us. We can beg and beg, press our requests insistently, but we should be open and thankful for however God responds to our request. 

 This story of the leper healed by Christ also shows how Christ does not heal us from a distance. He enters into our woundedness. This was articulated well by St. Paul when he said, “God made him (Christ) who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (2 Cor 5,21) Christ is willing to assume our woundedness to truly cure us. 

 More than that, Christ told the cleansed leper to tell no one about the miraculous cure. It’s not because we are forbidden to be happy and thankful about a great favor received. Rather it is meant for us not to seek worldly honor or glory. We should all the glory to God and focus on translating that immense gratitude by outdoing ourselves in doing good works. 

 In the end, what we should learn from this beautiful story are that we should bring our need to Christ, even if we do not control the outcome. We should accept whatever God’s will is for us toward our request, doing it with great humility, and we should more generous in our self-giving without seeking applause. 

 The whole story somehow tells us that while we normally use only ordinary means to solve our problems of whatever type, there are times when we have to resort to extraordinary means because the predicaments at hand are just too big or complicated to tackle. 

 This is where we can say that we need miracles. We have to go to Christ, like those many helpless characters in the gospel who approached him for a cure. In other words, we cannot anymore rely on our human natural and human powers to handle these predicaments. We have to beg for miracles! Only with him, with his touch, can we be made fully clean.

On rock or on sand?

WE have to examine ourselves to see if the house of our spiritual life is built on the foundation of rock or of sand. (cfr. Mt 7,21-29) This can be seen by the way we handle the different challenges, trials and difficulties we encounter in our life. In other words, how do we fare when we encounter the unavoidable storms of our life? 

 Of course, this rock is none other than Christ himself, the pattern of our humanity, the savior of our damaged humanity who gives us his own self for us to know “the way, the truth and the life” as we navigate the seas of life that are often turbulent. 

 But we should see to it that our relation with Christ is real and not just a matter of good intentions and sweet words. Remember him saying, “Not everyone that saith to me, Lord, Lord, shall enter into the kingdom of heaven: but he that does the will of my Father.” 

 With these words, we are clearly reminded that we should not just be good hearers of the word of God, but rather its doers. In fact, we have to convert God’s word into our very own life. 

 Let’s see to it that our profession of faith is converted into a life of faith. How? We need to walk the talk, practice what we preach, bear fruit and not just leaves. We have to be consistent with our belief. And that can only happen if we are truly identified with Christ. Only with him can we live a real spiritual and supernatural life amid the things of this world. We would not get lost. We would manage to remain on track. 

 Let’s remember that when our words and intentions are converted into deeds, we are strengthening our integrity and consistency as a person and as a child of God. As the gospel says it, we would be like a house built on solid rock. We would be more able to bear our own weaknesses, to resist the temptations around, to carry out our duties in this life, and to continue to pursue our supernatural end to be with God in heaven. 

 We have to develop a unity of life where prayer, work and the several interactions we do in the different aspects of our life are integrated under the guidance of faith, avoiding fragmented life where words and action conflict. 

 For this, we have to see to it that our faith and love must be expressed through concrete deeds, charity and good examples, rather than just through intentions or empty words. We have to avoid hypocrisy at all costs, always living in transparency, integrity and aligning our external actions with our internal heart. 

 It cannot be denied that for us to achieve this goal, we would be needing constant formation that would involve constant prayer, study and reflection, humility and a lifelong ascetical struggle to overcome human weaknesses so as to align our will with God’s will. 

 In fact, we are expected to become nothing less than an “alter Christus” (another Christ) as we are meant to be. And this is always possible and practicable because we are already given all the means for us to be so. 

 The prospect may overwhelm us, but we are precisely prodded to just strengthen our faith. We are not expected to understand everything. What is expected is that we learn to live with Christ, to follow his will and ways, to discern and obey the constant promptings of the Holy Spirit.

Decrease so love can increase

ON the Solemnity of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, celebrated on June 24, we are reminded of his very inspiring example on how to prepare our heart so that divine love can enter. 

 He clearly shows us that we just cannot jump straight to divine love without going through the process of repentance. That was the main mission he pursued as the forerunner of our Redeemer. He preached repentance and baptized the people, showing them how to welcome Christ by making sacrifices and overcoming the tendency to hypocrisy and inconsistency. 

 In short, he is asking us for a real conversion, a proper preparation for the coming of Christ into our lives. He modelled this kind of conversion by showing how love is never self-referential. That is why he said, “He must increase; I must decrease.” (Jn 3,30) That’s what happens when human love is divinized—it stops being about us. 

 We should do our best to follow the example of St. John the Baptist. Especially for us priests, we should be wary of becoming a demagogue, shouting and scolding from the pulpit. That’s because we as a true precursor of Christ would always preach in a humble manner, always pointing to Christ, and never drawing attention to ourselves. We should make Christ, not ourselves, known, appreciated and loved. 

 If we really want to be truly Christian, we need to appreciate more deeply the role of St. John the Baptist in the whole economy of salvation. He was the one who prepared the people for the coming of Christ, the one who pointed to Christ, the lamb of God who would take away the sins of the world, to the people. Somehow, we have a duty to follow the example of this saint in preparing people for the coming of Christ. 

 We know all too well that like St. John the Baptist whose call for repentance as preparation for the coming of the Redeemer was a lonely cry in the desert, we too can be like the voice of God today as well as that of the Church or of any spiritual and moral Christian teaching that has become a voice of one crying in the wilderness. 

 Present circumstances in the world point to a growing deafness and insensibility to the truths of faith and morals. The prologue of St. John’s gospel already captures this phenomenon: “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.” (1,11) 

 We cannot deny that there is a lot of ignorance, confusion and indifference to the things of God these days. The life of piety seems to be waning in many parts of our country, let alone, the whole world. Many people are hardly praying, and the practice of devotion seems to be facing extinction. 

 Just the same, we should not forget that regardless of what may appear to be a deep-seated culture of irreligion these days, every man continues in the deepest part of his heart to yearn for God. What the Catechism says about this is always relevant: 

 “The desire for God is written in the human heart, because man is created by God and for God; and God never ceases to draw man to himself. Only in God will he find the truth and happiness he never stops searching for.” (CCC 27) 

 Yes, God himself will always draw us to himself in ways that can be very mysterious. And we, on our part, should try our best to discern the directing ways of God. This is where everyone has to do his part in preparing himself to see and follow God’s ways.