Spending these past few months are the most humbling moments I ever had in my life. It reminds me that I am just a simple pilgrim travelling and searching here on earth. These moments of being all by myself gave me almost all the spectrum of feelings I felt with myself. Sometimes I pity myself; I got angry with myself with the choices I made; I felt sorry for how life events turned out for myself; and, I felt proud for what I have done these past few years particularly for all the graces and opportunities I got in joining the Marist Brothers.
I am sorry for sometimes disregarding and being indifferent to people I have met along the way especially to my family and friends. You know well that I always say sorry to you guys. If I have hurt you in ways I am not aware of, patawad po (I’m sorry).
Though people hurt me, stabbed me in the back, maligned me, called me names, used me in any manner, treated me indifferently, or though some of them keep hurting me, I forgave them all and will forgive them anyway. They might have almost broke me down but all of them made me stronger, tougher, and wiser. So thanks to you all.
It has been 29 years of existence for me and I am still keeping on dreaming. I don’t know what I really want exactly for myself to be quite honest and I am okay with that. But one thing I am sure of that no one can take away from me is hope. But yeah, hope is a good thing to paraphrase Andy Dufresne of Shawhank Redemption, my all-time favorite film.
I know myself well that I sometimes miss the point of how it is to live as a brother and I forget sometimes to do things with love. Love is also synonymous charity. Speaking of it, it reminds me that I might be speaking in tongues and be great in many things but without love, I am nothing. I know without it, I am nothing. Let it be for the sake of love and let it be with great love that I will be able to do great things.
If I feel proud, let it be not because of myself but because of all the great things God has done for me in my life. Let it be for God’s grace that people will call me blessed.
I attended a baptism of one of our teacher’s daughter since I was chosen as a godfather. Aside from the parents, the godparents has a role to play in forming the faith of the child. It matters how we “pass on” the faith to the young ones and it’s not just during Christmas season that we become Santa Claus-like to these little ones. It is a life-long responsibility especially that these children are still children. It can be shown in simple ways such as praying first before our meals.
I remember witnessing my nephew who said the grace when he was still five years old. It was cute and evangelizing even for adults like my sisters and brothers. A catechized child also plays a role in inspiring adults to keep the faith especially those who have lapsed or became nominal Catholics.
Now, I am an uncle to the newest addition to our family, a baby boy named Justise. He was born in the last week of October so go figure out how he was named like that. I haven’t seen him personally but I have the chance to see him next week before Christmas.
I am contended with seeing my sibling’s children. I love children. When I see them pray, though their faith is simple and innocent, I envy them in a good way. I am invited to be like these little ones, to have a child-like faith to our Father.
I know I am not married and not planning to since I’m consecrated so contributing to the gene pool is out of the equation. My inheritance wouldn’t be biological; it is spiritual. Catechesis is my inheritance. It’s not really mine; it’s about the One who, too, became “little” and His love for all of us. I’ll just pass it on. I just hope I am doing what I am supposed to do. And if not, then I’ll just keep trying and pass it on again. That is my inheritance.
As I learned from my previous classes in MAPAC through Sir Francis Castro, it’s interesting to note that life after death was not in the “theology” of the early Jewish tradition. Before, when Jews die, they believe that that was it. The end. No more life after death. Somewhere along the way, they developed this idea of life after death. Notice that in the Hebrew Scripture (Old Testament), only in the second book of Maccabees will you find the word “resurrection”, the rising of the dead, of those who have fallen “asleep” (2 Maccabees 12:43-45). That was in the context of a family who was forced to eat “swine’s flesh” (2 Maccabees 7). For them, to eat pork is to abandon the faith of their forefathers, surrendering to false gods and idols. So when they die as witnesses to their Jewish faith, shall they die in vain? No. These family died with the hope that, through Lord God’s compassion, they will rise from the dead.
Reading Maccabees is teaching me of faith. It is not about certainty. It is groping in the dark. By believing, I surrender to whatever will happen. And through this darkness, God will be walking side by side with me.