Monday, October 12, 2026

When even miracles are not enough

THE complaint of Christ in Luke 11:29-32 is one of the saddest moments in the Gospel. "This generation is an evil generation; it seeks a sign, but no sign shall be given it except the sign of Jonah." 

 Notice what grieves him. It is not ignorance. It is unbelief. The people have already seen enough. They have heard wisdom that no philosopher could match. They have witnessed healings, exorcisms, and acts of mercy. Yet they keep asking for more evidence, as though God were forever on trial before human opinion. 

 It is the oldest spiritual trick in the book. We tell ourselves, "If only God would give me one unmistakable miracle, then I would believe." But history proves otherwise. Even those who witnessed spectacular miracles often remained unconvinced. The problem is rarely the lack of signs. It is the lack of a heart willing to accept them. 

 That is why Christ points to Jonah. Nineveh had only a reluctant prophet preaching a short message of repentance, yet an entire pagan city changed its ways. The Queen of the South traveled a great distance simply to hear Solomon's wisdom. Now someone infinitely greater than Jonah and Solomon stands before God's chosen people, yet many remain unmoved. `

Their tragedy is not that God has been silent. It is that they have become deaf. The same danger stalks every generation. We live surrounded by God's fingerprints but behave as though he has left no trace. We demand extraordinary manifestations while overlooking the countless ordinary ways he visits us each day. Every sunrise, every act of forgiveness, every unexpected providence, every Eucharist, every invitation to conversion is already a sign. Faith does not invent these signs; it simply recognizes them. 

 The greatest sign, of course, is the death and Resurrection of Christ, prefigured by Jonah's three days in the belly of the great fish. Here God answers every doubt, every fear, every sin. Yet even this supreme act of love does not force belief. Love never coerces. It patiently invites. 

 How fitting, then, that the Church celebrates Our Lady of the Pillar. According to ancient tradition, while the Apostle James was discouraged by the slow progress of his mission in Spain, the Blessed Virgin appeared to him upon a pillar, encouraging him not to lose heart. The pillar became a symbol of steadfast faith. When everything seemed fruitless, heaven reminded him that God's promises do not depend on immediate results. 

 That lesson is especially relevant today. In the Philippines, devotion to Our Lady of the Pillar has flourished for centuries, particularly in communities such as Pilar, Bataan and in Zamboanga, and in many parishes bearing her title. Every October, processions, novenas, and fiestas draw thousands of devotees. 

 Yet the real tribute to the Virgin is not measured by the length of a procession or the grandeur of fireworks. It is measured by whether believers become pillars themselves—firm in faith, constant in hope, and generous in charity. 

 Christ still laments whenever hearts remain unmoved despite countless graces. His sorrow is not the frustration of a defeated teacher but the pain of a Savior whose love is repeatedly ignored. He continues to call, to forgive, and to wait. 

 The question is no longer whether God will give us another sign. He already has. The question is whether we will finally stop demanding proofs and begin responding with the obedience of faith. For those who truly believe, every day becomes another pillar on which God builds a life that cannot be shaken.

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