THANKS to God, this is not yet a hot and explosive issue, but it’s good to have some running concern about this because this is a continuing business in the Church.
The Church is a living organism, not only in the natural sense, but also in the supernatural sense. There is something stable in it, something permanent. But there is also something that changes all the time. And it’s subject to the constant inspirations of the Holy Spirit.
In fact, with the recent rise of ecclesial movements, knowing more about the dynamics between Church as institution and Church as charism cannot anymore be an exclusive affair of Church officials. It should increasingly involve everyone as well, the laity, especially.
Some guidelines are needed. At least the relevant basic principles and doctrine should filter down more widely to all faithful. And foremost among these should that while there is distinction between institution and charism, they should not be made to contradict each other. They need each other.
The time is ripe for it. We have to go past the anal stage, so to speak. It’s capital that we all have a sense of how the visible structural Church vitally corresponds to the Holy Spirit’s invisible promptings and charisms.
We cannot deny that tensions exist between these two dimensions, and we just have to learn how to grapple with them. Our consolation is that problems often contain the seeds for later enlightenment. They occasion growth and maturity in the Church.
The unfortunate split of the Couples for Christ, for example, together with the many irritants accompanying the relations between several charismatic groups and the parishes is a case in point.
And there are many others. How to handle emerging religious groups of men and women, with their respective spiritualities, that sprout in many places requires skills to effectively insert and harmonize these charisms with the institutional Church.
Thus, I was happy to learn that sometime in mid-May, some bishops gathered in Rome to study more about this issue. The seminar was aptly called, “I ask you to go out and meet the movements with much love,” words from Pope Benedict XVI.
It can be immediately gleaned that the Church is very open and welcoming to these new groups. These attest to the continuing vitality of the Church. Hopefully, the lessons learned can be disseminated more widely.
A lot of prudence, an abiding desire for dialogue should mark the relationship between Church officials and the faithful of these new ecclesial communities. There also has to be vigilance and discernment.
It cannot be denied that the initial stages of this relationship, often engaged in testing and probing, can be rocky. Prejudices, misunderstanding and narrow-mindedness can blight the attitudes of those in the parishes.
On the other hand, imprudence, inexperience and exuberance can give problems to the members of these new movements. Besides, charisms themselves seldom come in a pure and perfect state. They need to be developed, and this can create difficulties.
Charisms can also be distorted by the recipients and the followers. Thus, a lot of good discriminating judgment, patience and optimism are needed.
I suppose the whole idea is to see to it that the institutional Church with its structure and procedures get truly animated by the Spirit with his charisms, while the charismatic Church gets faithfully embodied in the institutional Church.
A continuing examination, checking and updating is needed here. We have to make our Church a true Church of the people and children of God. We have to rid it of dark-ages attitudes and practices.
One time, a friend told me this story. He wanted to organize a mass wedding for his farm workers in Mindanao . So after preparing the couple, he went to the parish to finalize it.
He was told the couples had to be members first of the basic ecclesial community. No problem, he said. But the problem came when he was told that membership meant not only some fees, which he was willing to foot, but payment of back dues, which totally turned him off.
I myself was scolded by a parish priest for baptizing a dying old man whose family prepared him for baptism. It was an emergency situation. Same reason. The family was no member of the ecclesial community. I was told I should not have done that. Unbelievable!
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Monday, May 26, 2008
Graduations make me cry
WE just had another graduation the other day. About 150 boys finished their 3-year technical courses in information technology, electromechanics, industrial electronics and mechanical technologies.
As usual, I was asked to give the invocation. Through the years, I have learned to put this little prayer into writing and to stick to it when delivering it. Otherwise, I get into trouble.
This is because graduations make me cry. I can’t help it. And I stumble and get stuck at different points of my prayer when tears start to well up in my eyes.
As the boys march in, I first get amused to see them suddenly whipped up for the occasion, in their fancy “ukay-ukay” dress shirts complete with real orchid corsage, their hair done in the latest craze, obviously a bit self-conscious, and escorted by their loving albeit battle-scarred parents.
Then, thousands of thoughts and emotions flashflood my mind and heart. This is when I make a conscious effort to control my feelings. This is supposed to be a happy moment, but why do tears come? They seem to like to come together.
I’ve been talking to them during their study and have been privy to many intimate details of their lives—their struggles, fears, wishes and ambitions. I get to know the conditions of their hearts, the range of their minds.
Their daily drama at home and in school, mostly petty, is the regular stuff in our chats. I get to know their growing pains, their problems and frustrations, as well as their conquests and successes.
Personal progress—from seed to tree to fruit—takes a long time. Changes can be too subtle to be detected. But I know they are taking place. We just have to be patient, hopeful and focused, dutifully doing the watering, etc.
Disciplining and redirecting their emotions, hormones and blind impulses has been the tricky task to do. Opening new horizons, giving them reasons to hope severely test my creativity.
Crafting new and appropriate arguments, encouraging words and stories have to be done daily to nourish their spirits. They can be buoyant at one time, then sagging the next.
My consolation is that many of them have been trained in the school of hardships, and they know how to rebound easily. We just have to keep an eye on them. My prayer is that little by little they become more stable and mature.
Boys cry, and I have considered that a normal sign of a developing manhood. The idea that they don’t or should not cry is a shameless lie. They have a heart, and are quite simple and transparent, unlike some of our twisted politicians.
I think boys need to cry, otherwise, they won’t grow well. They too need some outlet, a vent to let off some internal steam. Wounds and pains are inevitable, and healing can involve intense anguish and torment.
On my part, I try to give them the tools and the weapons to grow and to face life in all its possibilities. These are mainly spiritual and supernatural—doctrines, skills in praying, making sacrifices, practices of piety, developing virtues, etc.
I’m most happy when I see they are learning to put Christian meaning to everything in their life—their work and study, their personal and social circumstances, their ups and downs, etc.
When I see that they know how to convert their defects and failures into sources of strength—echoing St. Paul’s “It’s when I’m weak that I’m strong”—because they are humble, they ask for forgiveness and do something about their mistakes, then I know they are truly maturing.
When some alumni come to visit, I am happy of course to learn that they have somehow prospered materially and financially. I share their thrill when they begin their career and start receiving their salaries.
But it’s their spiritual growth that I’m most keen at knowing. When the picture in this regard is not good, they don’t go without a strong reminder or even a scolding. In most cases, they are thankful for this treatment, and they come back.
That’s why graduations make me cry. It’s a joy drenched in tears. There’s a sense of fulfillment, even as suspense that seeks outlet in prayer rises to another level.
As usual, I was asked to give the invocation. Through the years, I have learned to put this little prayer into writing and to stick to it when delivering it. Otherwise, I get into trouble.
This is because graduations make me cry. I can’t help it. And I stumble and get stuck at different points of my prayer when tears start to well up in my eyes.
As the boys march in, I first get amused to see them suddenly whipped up for the occasion, in their fancy “ukay-ukay” dress shirts complete with real orchid corsage, their hair done in the latest craze, obviously a bit self-conscious, and escorted by their loving albeit battle-scarred parents.
Then, thousands of thoughts and emotions flashflood my mind and heart. This is when I make a conscious effort to control my feelings. This is supposed to be a happy moment, but why do tears come? They seem to like to come together.
I’ve been talking to them during their study and have been privy to many intimate details of their lives—their struggles, fears, wishes and ambitions. I get to know the conditions of their hearts, the range of their minds.
Their daily drama at home and in school, mostly petty, is the regular stuff in our chats. I get to know their growing pains, their problems and frustrations, as well as their conquests and successes.
Personal progress—from seed to tree to fruit—takes a long time. Changes can be too subtle to be detected. But I know they are taking place. We just have to be patient, hopeful and focused, dutifully doing the watering, etc.
Disciplining and redirecting their emotions, hormones and blind impulses has been the tricky task to do. Opening new horizons, giving them reasons to hope severely test my creativity.
Crafting new and appropriate arguments, encouraging words and stories have to be done daily to nourish their spirits. They can be buoyant at one time, then sagging the next.
My consolation is that many of them have been trained in the school of hardships, and they know how to rebound easily. We just have to keep an eye on them. My prayer is that little by little they become more stable and mature.
Boys cry, and I have considered that a normal sign of a developing manhood. The idea that they don’t or should not cry is a shameless lie. They have a heart, and are quite simple and transparent, unlike some of our twisted politicians.
I think boys need to cry, otherwise, they won’t grow well. They too need some outlet, a vent to let off some internal steam. Wounds and pains are inevitable, and healing can involve intense anguish and torment.
On my part, I try to give them the tools and the weapons to grow and to face life in all its possibilities. These are mainly spiritual and supernatural—doctrines, skills in praying, making sacrifices, practices of piety, developing virtues, etc.
I’m most happy when I see they are learning to put Christian meaning to everything in their life—their work and study, their personal and social circumstances, their ups and downs, etc.
When I see that they know how to convert their defects and failures into sources of strength—echoing St. Paul’s “It’s when I’m weak that I’m strong”—because they are humble, they ask for forgiveness and do something about their mistakes, then I know they are truly maturing.
When some alumni come to visit, I am happy of course to learn that they have somehow prospered materially and financially. I share their thrill when they begin their career and start receiving their salaries.
But it’s their spiritual growth that I’m most keen at knowing. When the picture in this regard is not good, they don’t go without a strong reminder or even a scolding. In most cases, they are thankful for this treatment, and they come back.
That’s why graduations make me cry. It’s a joy drenched in tears. There’s a sense of fulfillment, even as suspense that seeks outlet in prayer rises to another level.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Recovering ourselves through Mary
FRESH and beautiful images of the popular Marian devotion, “Flores de Mayo,” still linger in the mind.
One time, after concelebrating a funeral Mass in a town parish at 1 p.m. the other day, I was amused and charmed to see little kids, mostly dressed in white and with angel wings, waiting for their turn to enter the church.
I later learned that their activity was to start 2 hours later yet. But a good number of them were already there eager to pay homage to our Lady with flowers they got from gardens not necessarily of their own homes.
One could see they came from all levels of the local families, judging by the way they dressed and moved. But they blended quite well. No divisive tension at all was noted. Everyone was happy.
The parish priest, my friend, told me it’s something completely supernatural to have this kind of phenomenon, because there were many reasons for these children not to come.
It was hot, if not wet in the afternoons. Inconvenience for them was all over. They had to go through some period of catechetical instruction, which must be a bore to them. And yet they came, and they enjoyed the whole thing tremendously.
How I wish we, the adults, can return to this pure, child-like state of devotion to our Lady! We need it. In fact, we urgently need it.
Our Lady is our mother entrusted to us by Christ himself on the cross. Those words he said to St. John , “Behold your mother,” have always been understood as words meant for all of us, and not just for him.
Our Lady takes good care of us. She makes sure we will always be close to her son. And she does this in her ever-sweet ways. Regardless of our abuses and infidelities, she will always stand by us.
I remember the apparition of our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego. When the Mexican Indian peasant tried to avoid her because he was worried about the pending death of his uncle, she just appeared to him and said:
“I, who am your Mother, stand before you. You remain always under the shelter of my protection. Be aware of how fortunate you are to have access to my motherly care at all times.”
We need her especially these days, because we seem to be mercilessly bombarded with intoxicating elements that undermine our focus and attachment to God.
Again, the other day while on a one-day trip to an island province, it came to my mind that things seem to be done or arranged to prevent people from praying.
First of all, there’s already that weak set of attitudes and dispositions to pray. We really have to improve in this area. Our consistency as Christians gets shredded when prayer is not our default page. I
I cannot make judgments on actuations of specific people. But I make observations of the general environment, and what I saw was that the mind to pray or at least to be in God’s presence was simply not there.
Amid the vacation mode that seems to be how most of my co-passengers were, what was obvious was boredom. The Chinese movie, full of fighting scenes fantastically executed in the air, failed to remove them from their ennui.
And for those who might have wanted to pray, they were continuously distracted by all sorts of things, not the least of all was the constant flow of movies.
It would seem people are not allowed to have peace for their mind to think and their heart to pray. Their senses have to be kept engaged and aroused, while the spiritual faculties have to be sedated.
Devotion to our Lady can be a corrective to this anomaly. She reminds us to be always pondering in our hearts everything that Jesus said and did. She shows us how to be simple and full of faith and hope.
She is the strong proof that Jesus can always be found even in the littlest things of our day. She tells us where our peace and joy lie. She shows us the way to keep a supernatural outlook in the middle of our earthly affairs.
Our Lady teaches us what are the proper priorities in our life, snatching us from jaws of the ever-present threat of confusion and of developing all sorts of obsessions and compulsions.
One time, after concelebrating a funeral Mass in a town parish at 1 p.m. the other day, I was amused and charmed to see little kids, mostly dressed in white and with angel wings, waiting for their turn to enter the church.
I later learned that their activity was to start 2 hours later yet. But a good number of them were already there eager to pay homage to our Lady with flowers they got from gardens not necessarily of their own homes.
One could see they came from all levels of the local families, judging by the way they dressed and moved. But they blended quite well. No divisive tension at all was noted. Everyone was happy.
The parish priest, my friend, told me it’s something completely supernatural to have this kind of phenomenon, because there were many reasons for these children not to come.
It was hot, if not wet in the afternoons. Inconvenience for them was all over. They had to go through some period of catechetical instruction, which must be a bore to them. And yet they came, and they enjoyed the whole thing tremendously.
How I wish we, the adults, can return to this pure, child-like state of devotion to our Lady! We need it. In fact, we urgently need it.
Our Lady is our mother entrusted to us by Christ himself on the cross. Those words he said to St. John , “Behold your mother,” have always been understood as words meant for all of us, and not just for him.
Our Lady takes good care of us. She makes sure we will always be close to her son. And she does this in her ever-sweet ways. Regardless of our abuses and infidelities, she will always stand by us.
I remember the apparition of our Lady of Guadalupe to Juan Diego. When the Mexican Indian peasant tried to avoid her because he was worried about the pending death of his uncle, she just appeared to him and said:
“I, who am your Mother, stand before you. You remain always under the shelter of my protection. Be aware of how fortunate you are to have access to my motherly care at all times.”
We need her especially these days, because we seem to be mercilessly bombarded with intoxicating elements that undermine our focus and attachment to God.
Again, the other day while on a one-day trip to an island province, it came to my mind that things seem to be done or arranged to prevent people from praying.
First of all, there’s already that weak set of attitudes and dispositions to pray. We really have to improve in this area. Our consistency as Christians gets shredded when prayer is not our default page. I
I cannot make judgments on actuations of specific people. But I make observations of the general environment, and what I saw was that the mind to pray or at least to be in God’s presence was simply not there.
Amid the vacation mode that seems to be how most of my co-passengers were, what was obvious was boredom. The Chinese movie, full of fighting scenes fantastically executed in the air, failed to remove them from their ennui.
And for those who might have wanted to pray, they were continuously distracted by all sorts of things, not the least of all was the constant flow of movies.
It would seem people are not allowed to have peace for their mind to think and their heart to pray. Their senses have to be kept engaged and aroused, while the spiritual faculties have to be sedated.
Devotion to our Lady can be a corrective to this anomaly. She reminds us to be always pondering in our hearts everything that Jesus said and did. She shows us how to be simple and full of faith and hope.
She is the strong proof that Jesus can always be found even in the littlest things of our day. She tells us where our peace and joy lie. She shows us the way to keep a supernatural outlook in the middle of our earthly affairs.
Our Lady teaches us what are the proper priorities in our life, snatching us from jaws of the ever-present threat of confusion and of developing all sorts of obsessions and compulsions.
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