THAT’S what love does. By definition, it needs to grow, to heighten, to go to the limits of possibilities. If these things are not happening to one who says he is in love, you can be sure of it, he is actually not loving. He’s merely playing games.
This is the predicament that many of us usually find ourselves in. We in theory can realize this demand of love, but in practice we get hampered by a number of reasons.
Love is supposed to be lived without measure. It’s in its character to be generous, heroic, full of excitement and eagerness, inventive and resourceful. It’s never passive. It plans, anticipates, watches.
Problems and failures only offer opportunities to love in other ways. Successes never spoil it. They on the contrary spur it.
But difficulties abound along the way. For one, there’s tension between the bodily and spiritual dimensions of our nature. The body needs to cope, and often fails, to the impulses of our spirit. Our flesh often pours water on the ardor of our soul. As our Lord said, “The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
We have to contend with the realities of our natural human weaknesses—our laziness, idleness, self-centeredness, our proneness to tiredness and to discouragement, to narrow-mindedness, etc. It’s not easy at all to handle these things. These blur and degrade our understanding of love.
And so, what starts as an individual case can spread into social dimensions, creating a culture that shapes love in terms of our weaknesses rather than enhancing its potentials.
There’s also that tension that needs to be resolved between our nature and the supernatural goal to which it is oriented. This is made more dramatic because our nature has been wounded by sin. This is where love is not only degraded, but corrupted.
We can think, erroneously of course, that love can be grounded on us alone, according to our many human criteria, and not on God, who is actually the source of love. He, in fact, is love. “Deus caritas est.” This is what we are seeing these days—people loving on their own, detached from God.
Still, the objectivity of love’s nature and character is not obviated by these difficulties. It’s still possible to love the way love should be done and lived. In the first place, God never leaves us. He always intervenes in our lives and finds has his ways to help us.
What is impossible to us is always possible to him. From darkness he can always draw light. From death, life. He has shown that his mercy is forever. And his wisdom is such that he could take advantage of our stupid mistakes to derive something good.
His love goes all the way, even up to death. If our love flows from his, nothing could stop it, not our mistakes, not our sins. Like water, it will find a way to go to the sea.
But we have to do our part. We have to see to it that we conform our love to his. That’s the only way our love can also go all the way. If ours are simply grounded on human reasons—sentimental, human attraction, political, social, philanthropic, etc.—it will stop at some point.
As St. Paul said: “Charity bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” It has a way of sustaining itself even when we reach the limits of our human powers.
Just the same, we have to understand that love needs to build up. We should go to the extent of feeling such build-up, such heightening. When we notice that such fire is fading or, worse, is missing, we have to realize we have a problem insofar as love is concerned.
How else can we interpret Christ’s own words: ”You shall love the Lord your God with your whole heart, and with your whole soul, and with your whole mind.”
This total self-giving is a dynamic thing, whose law can only be that of a continuing intensity of love, perhaps not so much in terms of feelings as of the will. This distinction is important so that we know exactly how to measure our love’s intensity.
Ideally, of course, the will and the feelings should go together. But given our human condition, there will be times when the will has to go on even while the feelings run dry.
True love—the love of God with the corresponding love of neighbor—always abides in spite of and also because of difficulties.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
My Gloria Diaz problem
I’M actually referring to my language problem. I was reminded of this recently because of the brouhaha arising from Gloria Diaz’s alleged slur against the Cebuanos.
I did not see the offending portion of the interview and neither do I intend to look into it. What have been written about it, including what Miss Diaz said to explain her side, are enough for me to say let’s move on, let’s go to the next page.
Whatever may be the shortcomings of this former beauty titleholder, we cannot deny the fact that about 40 years ago, in 1969, she turned the whole country electric when for the first time, a Filipina became Miss Universe.
I remember the journalistic hype that time. While the US conquered the moon with their Apollo landing, the Philippines conquered the universe. No one complained about that claim. Everyone was happy.
Those were more simple, more innocent times when beauty contests were good sources of national joy and dignity, something we can hardly say about our present time. Virtue still attended those contests. Now, it seems it’s greed and vanity.
Miss Diaz broke some old molds and introduced new beauty standards in the international scene with her dusky, bright complexion, swan-like neck, a pretty pout that would suddenly break into a wide grin, revealing the spunk inside her.
But, of course, you cannot expect her to be everything. We’re thankful that we got quite a lift with her victory. She was not known for depth or substance, and neither was she expected. But, hey, let’s treat a lady very kindly whatever may be her faults.
To our current titleholder’s “major, major,” Miss Diaz popularized the “you know, you know,” that even our Manny Pacquiao tries to imitate. Come on, let’s giver her a pass.
I was ashamed when we thought of branding her persona non grata. We’re making a storm in a teacup. Have we become that sensitive? Can we not make fun of ourselves from time to time? You know, it’s a Filipino trait. We are inveterate jokers, and we like to make fun of our faults.
This leads me to a more serious matter. I think my predicament reflects that of many people, especially those of my generation. I believe it’s a most complex problem and I hope something can be done about it. If it takes a thousand years to solve it, we better start now.
And it is that while my English is quite developed, my Bisaya has remained primitive, restricted only to domestic and pedestrian use. I’m truly ashamed of this situation. I feel betrayed, a traitor to my own self.
This painful realization was sharper when I was in Rome and Spain to study. There the locals were really good in their mother tongue, such that they could talk philosophy and theology with it.
Not so with me. In these higher branches of knowledge, I had to use my acquired languages—English, Latin or Spanish. Bisaya seems to have no place in them. This, for me, is really a shame.
There can be many explanations to this. What immediately comes to mind was that in my growing-up years, my parents, my father especially, were frantic to have me and my siblings learn English. It was like it was a matter of survival. I suppose they were only thinking of what was best for us in the future.
And so, instead of going to the public school where Bisaya was the medium of instruction for the first few grades, we went to the private school run by some American nuns and priests. We learned English, read and spoke in English, even thought and dreamed in English.
We were surrounded by English literature. I did not find anything in Bisaya, except when I occasionally visited a neighbor’s house where they had Bisaya magazines—Alimyon, etc.
There was a shameful side-effect to this. And that was we developed a condescending attitude toward Bisaya. There I have said it. I can now expect to be stoned. But that’s the truth, about which I now am atoning and making up.
But this language issue, I suppose, now requires a more serious, concerted effort, with a strong political will from our leaders, so it can be resolved properly.
From what I could gather so far, Bisaya has a very distinctive beauty and depth that cannot be captured by our acquired languages. Let’s do something about this problem. May our technological progress be used to help solve this problem.
That’s why, in a way, I thank Gloria Diaz for reminding me of this issue.
I did not see the offending portion of the interview and neither do I intend to look into it. What have been written about it, including what Miss Diaz said to explain her side, are enough for me to say let’s move on, let’s go to the next page.
Whatever may be the shortcomings of this former beauty titleholder, we cannot deny the fact that about 40 years ago, in 1969, she turned the whole country electric when for the first time, a Filipina became Miss Universe.
I remember the journalistic hype that time. While the US conquered the moon with their Apollo landing, the Philippines conquered the universe. No one complained about that claim. Everyone was happy.
Those were more simple, more innocent times when beauty contests were good sources of national joy and dignity, something we can hardly say about our present time. Virtue still attended those contests. Now, it seems it’s greed and vanity.
Miss Diaz broke some old molds and introduced new beauty standards in the international scene with her dusky, bright complexion, swan-like neck, a pretty pout that would suddenly break into a wide grin, revealing the spunk inside her.
But, of course, you cannot expect her to be everything. We’re thankful that we got quite a lift with her victory. She was not known for depth or substance, and neither was she expected. But, hey, let’s treat a lady very kindly whatever may be her faults.
To our current titleholder’s “major, major,” Miss Diaz popularized the “you know, you know,” that even our Manny Pacquiao tries to imitate. Come on, let’s giver her a pass.
I was ashamed when we thought of branding her persona non grata. We’re making a storm in a teacup. Have we become that sensitive? Can we not make fun of ourselves from time to time? You know, it’s a Filipino trait. We are inveterate jokers, and we like to make fun of our faults.
This leads me to a more serious matter. I think my predicament reflects that of many people, especially those of my generation. I believe it’s a most complex problem and I hope something can be done about it. If it takes a thousand years to solve it, we better start now.
And it is that while my English is quite developed, my Bisaya has remained primitive, restricted only to domestic and pedestrian use. I’m truly ashamed of this situation. I feel betrayed, a traitor to my own self.
This painful realization was sharper when I was in Rome and Spain to study. There the locals were really good in their mother tongue, such that they could talk philosophy and theology with it.
Not so with me. In these higher branches of knowledge, I had to use my acquired languages—English, Latin or Spanish. Bisaya seems to have no place in them. This, for me, is really a shame.
There can be many explanations to this. What immediately comes to mind was that in my growing-up years, my parents, my father especially, were frantic to have me and my siblings learn English. It was like it was a matter of survival. I suppose they were only thinking of what was best for us in the future.
And so, instead of going to the public school where Bisaya was the medium of instruction for the first few grades, we went to the private school run by some American nuns and priests. We learned English, read and spoke in English, even thought and dreamed in English.
We were surrounded by English literature. I did not find anything in Bisaya, except when I occasionally visited a neighbor’s house where they had Bisaya magazines—Alimyon, etc.
There was a shameful side-effect to this. And that was we developed a condescending attitude toward Bisaya. There I have said it. I can now expect to be stoned. But that’s the truth, about which I now am atoning and making up.
But this language issue, I suppose, now requires a more serious, concerted effort, with a strong political will from our leaders, so it can be resolved properly.
From what I could gather so far, Bisaya has a very distinctive beauty and depth that cannot be captured by our acquired languages. Let’s do something about this problem. May our technological progress be used to help solve this problem.
That’s why, in a way, I thank Gloria Diaz for reminding me of this issue.
Friday, September 3, 2010
When practicality isn’t practical anymore
I THINK it’s good that we are trained to be practical always. I remember that as a child, we were taught that we have to move and act always, work and produce results. And so even with our little hands, we were already sweeping the floor, fixing our beds, cleaning the toilets, etc.
I was assigned to scrub the stair clean and shiny. I didn’t quite like it, but I could not complain because my elder brothers had heavier tasks. If they could do theirs, why could I not do mine, was the reasoning I pacified myself with.
What I enjoyed most was feeding the pigs, because I got the chance to shower them and play with them. Pigs are naturally friendly and affectionate, even if they never get satisfied with any amount of food. They may not be as charming and cute as dogs and cats, but they are the simplest and most transparent. What you see is what you get.
No, I didn’t develop sentimental attachments to any of them. When fiesta time came, I was happy that they were butchered and everyone was happy with the meat. Besides, I earned some money by the side, because my mother would ask me to sell some of them from time to time. I looked forward to caring for the next batch of piglets.
But I was barred from the kitchen. For some reason, my mother decided I was no good at all at cooking. I tried it once, and the result was a disaster. The pigs even would not eat it. I was not given a second chance. My mother told me to go to my books instead.
Wherever I went, I was always made to feel that idleness and laziness were a no no. And so, even if by temperament I was prone to daydream and imagine, I had to keep myself busy and wait till my rest time to indulge in my favorite fantasies.
Yes, to be practical is a great value, responsible for the flowering of many cultures and civilizations. Unless one is practical, the best ideas and the brilliant theories would just come to nothing.
Practicality teaches one how to be resourceful and it occasions the blooming of many other virtues and competencies. Work is a great school for learning many things. Opus Dei founder St. Josemaria Escriva went further by saying that work can and should be the ordinary way one achieves holiness.
I agree with that, only if one does it well, and if he does it with the right reasons. For the other side of the coin is that people can work for the wrong reasons. And that’s when work can become a curse, when practicality isn’t practical anymore.
One can work and be practical out of sinful reasons—pride, vanity, greed, lust, intemperance, and even out of sloth, as in, when one works to avoid a religious duty. Sloth is not simply laziness. It is also dislike for anything religious or virtuous. So, one can mimic working if only to escape a more important thing.
This sad reality has been the subject of one of Christ’s parable—the sower and the seed. According to him, the seed that fell among thorns “is he that hears the word, but the care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches chokes it up and he becomes fruitless.” (Mt 13,22)
When work and practicality are made to compete with prayer, charity, our family duties, honesty, disorder, temperance, etc., then they stop being good to us. They turn traitors, a most dangerous one since they deceive a lot of people.
For from the outside they will always look good and admirable. Let’s just see to it that they are done with the proper internal dispositions. This is the tricky part of our human condition. We need to work not only on our outside appearance, but more so on our internal motives. There has to be consistency to attain the proper integrity.
Alas, this is the hemorrhaging problem we are having at present. It’s a massive one and is threatening to be the dominant, mainstream way of doing things. We need to go through the slow process of educating everyone about the true nature and purpose of work and practicality, and also about their limits and dangers.
As we plunge deeper into our technology-driven world of work and practicality, let’s see to it that we are properly prepared, clear about our reasons for working and for being practical, and skilful enough to avoid the dangers.
I was assigned to scrub the stair clean and shiny. I didn’t quite like it, but I could not complain because my elder brothers had heavier tasks. If they could do theirs, why could I not do mine, was the reasoning I pacified myself with.
What I enjoyed most was feeding the pigs, because I got the chance to shower them and play with them. Pigs are naturally friendly and affectionate, even if they never get satisfied with any amount of food. They may not be as charming and cute as dogs and cats, but they are the simplest and most transparent. What you see is what you get.
No, I didn’t develop sentimental attachments to any of them. When fiesta time came, I was happy that they were butchered and everyone was happy with the meat. Besides, I earned some money by the side, because my mother would ask me to sell some of them from time to time. I looked forward to caring for the next batch of piglets.
But I was barred from the kitchen. For some reason, my mother decided I was no good at all at cooking. I tried it once, and the result was a disaster. The pigs even would not eat it. I was not given a second chance. My mother told me to go to my books instead.
Wherever I went, I was always made to feel that idleness and laziness were a no no. And so, even if by temperament I was prone to daydream and imagine, I had to keep myself busy and wait till my rest time to indulge in my favorite fantasies.
Yes, to be practical is a great value, responsible for the flowering of many cultures and civilizations. Unless one is practical, the best ideas and the brilliant theories would just come to nothing.
Practicality teaches one how to be resourceful and it occasions the blooming of many other virtues and competencies. Work is a great school for learning many things. Opus Dei founder St. Josemaria Escriva went further by saying that work can and should be the ordinary way one achieves holiness.
I agree with that, only if one does it well, and if he does it with the right reasons. For the other side of the coin is that people can work for the wrong reasons. And that’s when work can become a curse, when practicality isn’t practical anymore.
One can work and be practical out of sinful reasons—pride, vanity, greed, lust, intemperance, and even out of sloth, as in, when one works to avoid a religious duty. Sloth is not simply laziness. It is also dislike for anything religious or virtuous. So, one can mimic working if only to escape a more important thing.
This sad reality has been the subject of one of Christ’s parable—the sower and the seed. According to him, the seed that fell among thorns “is he that hears the word, but the care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches chokes it up and he becomes fruitless.” (Mt 13,22)
When work and practicality are made to compete with prayer, charity, our family duties, honesty, disorder, temperance, etc., then they stop being good to us. They turn traitors, a most dangerous one since they deceive a lot of people.
For from the outside they will always look good and admirable. Let’s just see to it that they are done with the proper internal dispositions. This is the tricky part of our human condition. We need to work not only on our outside appearance, but more so on our internal motives. There has to be consistency to attain the proper integrity.
Alas, this is the hemorrhaging problem we are having at present. It’s a massive one and is threatening to be the dominant, mainstream way of doing things. We need to go through the slow process of educating everyone about the true nature and purpose of work and practicality, and also about their limits and dangers.
As we plunge deeper into our technology-driven world of work and practicality, let’s see to it that we are properly prepared, clear about our reasons for working and for being practical, and skilful enough to avoid the dangers.
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