In My Father's House

Patience and Fr. Bob

2008-04-23T08:03:00.000+08:00

Patience is the ability to endure waiting, delay, or provocation without becoming annoyed or upset, or to persevere calmly when faced with difficulties.Impatience is an opposite of patience or having a lack of patience. (from Wikipedia).

I will be graduating this Friday in UP. I love to tell my friends that I would be getting two MA degrees: one for Comparative Literature, the other for Patience. After a series of delays, postponements and last-minute changes within a four-year period I would be getting my diploma. And of course, to those who studied in UP or know UP system, patience is really a virtue that you should always carry with you.

But no, really, I'm a very impatient person. I hate situations wherein I have to wait for more than what I have planned for the day. I easily get annoyed by people who agree meeting me at a certain time but would show up 30 or 45 minutes late. I tend to walk out of conferences or seminars that do not start on time. I complain when movies do not commence on the advertised schedule. When I was a kid that I went home alone after attending Mass in Parañaque when my elder sister did not show up after ten minutes of appointed time and place. I had to walk some eight kilometers back home only to find that my sister was not home either. So I had to walk back to the church. I was five years old at that time and had to cross Bicutan interchange twice!

Long queues at ATM's, flight delays, bus drivers and conductors who take their sweet time at stop-overs, waiters who make me wait interminably really get me fuming mad. I am a very impatient person. But last week I was given a crash course on the value of waiting and being patient. I just came from Mall of Asia with my brother and his kids. I chanced upon Fr. Bob Hogan seated like a toddler on the stairs of Loyola House of Studies lobby. His hands were on the rail of the ramp for wheel-chair bound persons. His eyes, straight, focused on the driveway. He was obviously waiting for someone. I approached him and asked matter-of-factly,
"Father, are you okay?" To which he replied softly, "I sure am." Then I asked him the obvious, "You're waiting for someone to pick you up?"
"Yes, I am."
"How long have you been waiting here?"
"Well, she said she's going to pick me up at around 7:00." I looked at my watch and told him,
"But it's already 8:45, Father. Do you think she's still coming?"
"I'm not sure."
'But you're still going to wait."
"For a few more minutes."
"Really, you are that patient?"
"Well," he said without any hint of bragging, "I just spent an hour with a lady who had been lying sick in bed for 7 years. I think I can wait for a little more."
"That's incredible, I wish I had even half of your patience." To which he merely shrugged his shoulders as if saying, that's how my life's been, one of patient waiting.

I went to my room and promptly forgot about the incident. At 10 pm I called the porter and asked whether someone did pick Fr. Hogan up. The porter said no, nobody came. I asked when did Fr. Hogan leave his place, the porter replied, about past nine. I even forgot to ask the old man if he had eaten before his long wait with someone who never showed up.

Patience. I realize how easy it is for me to dismiss people who do not meet my expectations, who do not show up on time at the exact appointed place and hour. It's easy to label them as insensitive and chronic late-comers. Easier even to say that MY TIME is more important than theirs. Yet this one old Father showed me much more than I can learn from self-help books and recollections: that patient waiting is a divine act. Divine because it allows people to commit mistakes without judging them. It enables those who wait patiently to exercise their freedom, their generosity and understanding to be in the position of those who are being waited. Patience recognizes the need to let go of our desire to control many things including those that are really beyond our control.

And finally, patience recognizes too that in one time or another, people have been patient with me when I needed it most.

The Gucci Gang Controversy and the Challenge of Spreading the Word of God

2008-04-22T12:00:00.000+08:00

For days I have resisted the urge to type in Google's search box the phrase "Gucci Gang" for fear of stumbling into a "mindless and shallow" controversy that is currently rocking bloggers' world. I had been hearing stories spread from mouth to mouth about a certain Australian blogger who created a blog so he could exact vengeance (financial and psycho-emotional) against a high society member who did him wrong. The Australian threatens that until he is fully paid of the money owed him by his erstwhile lover and now mortal enemy, he shall continue to write revealing stories about the latter and his cohorts now known as the Gucci Gang. Local and international papers carried stories about the so called members of this gang and the things they supposedly do because they could afford to do it (and all because they are "high and mighty," says one blog commenter).

A few days ago, I threw caution to the wind and gave in to the itch of peeking into the lives of the most talked about personalities in the whole world wide web. From the moment I read the first entry of Brian Gorrell's blog I knew I was taken completely like an Earthling whisked into a hitherto unknown yet fascinating and fearful galaxy. Fascinating because the blog entries are written in flowing prose with the cadence of poetry while the stories read like the latest in Korean soap opera. Fearful because I have not read anything like it--the foulest and most irate words ever written against persons enough to make a grown man weep with shame.

In less than thirty minutes I was introduced to a world of intrigue involving fame, fortune, drugs and betrayal. I went back to the site again and again sniffing for more. The accusations and counter-accusations have yet to be proven in proper courts but what frightens and frustrates me is the possibility that those who are involved in the controversy and the people who want to get a slice of them may have been people we attended school with, taught, learned and went to church with. Judging by the flawless command of English written as reaction and responses by those who visited the blog, we could assume that they are 1) young men and women who attended or finished college, 2) have work in urban centers as they are familiar with the trendy bars and hang-out places, 3) know a thing or two about the members of the group and 4) are willing to spill the beans on those who have time to listen.

Mr. Gorrell was catapulted to a celebrity status when his blog clogged internet lines that Google initially contemplated shutting his site down to prevent traffic. His overnight success earned him a place in Wikipedia and all of a sudden CNN and other international media outfits are after him. Now he can talk all he wants and he has the world all ears. How easy it is for him (and for any other person who has the guts and gumption to tell all) to get willing and listening ears.

I wish the same was true with people who write and speak about the Word of God--that they get a million hits each time they post something about their reflection. Luckily we have a few people who continue to write about God and things of God despite the meager number of visitors to their sites. I was reminded of that story about a boy who learned that a dam in his village was about to burst. When everyone was told about the impending disaster and was preparing to leave, they boy remained, he stuck his finger in the crack of the dam, hoping that doing so would buy precious time for his villagers to escape.

Such is the challenge awaiting those few souls who preach the Word of God "in season and out of season."

In My Fathers' House

2008-03-27T07:04:00.000+08:00

In My Fathers’ House

"In My Father's house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you.” John 14: 2

When asked by a friend where in Cagayan de Oro was the best place to eat, Fr. Jett readily replied, “Loyola House.” The president of Xavier University was not kidding nor was he being partial to the members of his community at the Jesuit Residence. He was simply telling the truth.

It is not really that we have feast everyday. Special dinners at Loyola House are limited to major Church holidays, feast days of Ignatius and Xavier and birthdays of Jesuit priests and brothers. Outside of these special occasions, mealtimes at Loyola are plain ordinary. However, among the younger Jesuits of the house, we are in agreement that it is always better to eat at home rather than in any other place in the city because it is expensive to eat outside and the food is not always as good.

What is the secret of Loyola House? What makes residents and visitors stay for dinners and give generous comments on our meals? In my two years of stay at Loyola House, I have not purposely missed any dinner as much as I would not want to miss our communal liturgical activities. I have been thinking what makes our community special, what’s in it that we could forego invitations to eat in posh restaurants just to be with our fathers and brothers. These may be the reasons why.

We have an excellent chef in the person of Bro. Jody who is in charge of the kitchen, dinner preparations and serving. He is our secret weapon. His taste buds are as discriminating as Remy of the Ratatouille animated movie. He is very strict in the choice of ingredients, always insisting on the exact amount, freshest quality and instructs the kitchen staff to meticulously follow cooking directions.

But more than the food, I think it is the companionship, the collegiality and friendship of this motley crew of Jesuits with age gap as wide as six decades that keeps us together at dinner tables. We may be as colorful as any cast of characters in a comedy series or we may have different temperaments ranging from the saintly to the combustible, one common thread that binds us all is our love for conversations. Pick any topic under the sun, comment on it and pretty soon you’ll have the Jesuits around you talking seriously, passionately and animatedly about it.

We also like some friendly banter, the joking around at the expense of oneself and one another. Former Fr. General Pedro Arrupe cautioned young men who wanted to enter the Society of Jesus with this: You have to have a sense of humor if you want to join the Jesuits. This love of humor and exchange of sharp wit spice up any of our stale viands and transform them into something ambrosial.

However, for us scholastics who recently finished our regency assignments at Xavier University, what we would certainly miss is our fathers and brothers who are so unsparing with their praises and so lavish with their care and concern for us. Whenever we do the littlest things, they are always there to thank us and congratulate us, profusely and sincerely, that it sometimes makes us blush. They look for us whenever we are not around, wish us good luck on our upcoming projects and activities, ask later on about its successes and short-comings, pray for us when we leave for distant places and welcome us back home with smiles on their faces. You can’t get that even in the most expensive restaurant in all of Cagayan.

They say that Cagayan is the City of Golden Friendship. It is true. I have gained some good friends here, sometimes whole families. But what I would really cherish and miss most as I go back to Manila is the friendship that I made inside our very own home, in my fathers’ house.

To the members of Loyola House Jesuit Community, for inspiring us, mentoring us, showing us the deeper meaning of “Friends in the Lord,” A BIG THANK YOU.

Speak Loudly, Love

2007-03-01T10:19:00.000+08:00

Last Wednesday, February 21, was Ash Wednesday. We begun our formal entry into the season of Lent: A Season of Love and Loving. Nothing can be more spectacular, more profound and dramatic than the Love of the Greatest Lover of all time: Our Lord Jesus Christ. We allowed the ministers of the Church to smear our foreheads with ash taken from the remains of palm branches of last year’s Domingo de Ramos. Just why are we doing this? Can we not just quietly go into a silent and less conspicuous way of reminding ourselves that despite our best efforts we have not approximated God’s glory and we falter along the way to perfection?

Actually, we can. But here's the catch: our Lord is a proud and loud Lover. He wants to declare from the top of the world, from deep within the deepest of seas and across broad valleys, how immense and great and lasting His love is for us! He is the type of God who wants to proclaim His undying love not simply by texting “luv u”. He wants us to understand, in loud and clear manner, and sometimes with accompanying heart-rending background music how He adores us. His love is not secretive and cannot be hidden like the love theme of the movie The Godfather:

Speak softly, Love so no one hears but the sky…

As much as possible Christ wants everyone to hear what He has in his heart. This He has shown by dying on the cross—perhaps the most scandalous and ridiculous event that happened in the history of mankind. And also the loudest. But that’s how He is, a fountain of love whose very essence is to give forth love. He was willing to undergo unspeakable torture and agony just to be able to communicate audibly this love which is also the Father’s love for Him. And for us. If there is a song that could capture this great love of Christ for us, it is Josh Groban’s Se from Cinema Paradiso:

If you were in my eyes for one day / You could see the full beauty of the joy / I find in your eyes / And it isn’t magic or loyalty / If you were in my heart for a day / You would have an idea / Of what I feel / When you hold me strongly to you / Heart to heart, / Breathing together / Protagonist of your love / I don’t know if it’s magic or loyalty / If you were in my soul for a day / You would know what is inside me / That I fell in love /At that instant, together with you / And what I sense / It’s only love. /

Huh! Tough love. Can anyone top that?

The Gospel According to Wrestlers

2007-02-13T21:20:00.000+08:00

As a kid I loved sleeping over at my uncle’s house on Wednesday nights just so I could watch my favorite wrestling program. Once the program had started, nothing and no one could drag me away from my seat, which I fiercely guarded, in front of the television. But when I learned in grade school that the human body was actually composed of fragile bones and tearable muscles, my fascination at watching Hulk Hogan take on a dozen opponents at one time all but faded. I had also confirmed the rumor that the matches were “scripted” (actually, choreographed is a more accurate term) and that those gargantuan guys were merely actors with over-sized biceps and bloated egos.

However, when I heard that the 2006 Wrestle Mania champion, Dave “The Animal” Batista, is half-Filipino, I have since reconsidered my smug snobbery of what advertisers pride as “the greatest show on earth.” From time to time I would watch the highlights of The Animal’s fights and I would be transported back to the days when nothing was better than a glass of warm milk after watching a good Wednesday night wrestling match. From the furtive glances at Batista’s Smackdown and RAW fights I am re-acquainted with the likes of Kane, Chris Benoit, Triple H, Rey Mysterio, JBL, Randy Orton and the Big Show. Watching them perform—as they jump and dive, elbow and punch, kick and slap, and strangle each other and utter insults at one another—make me realize that they are actually re-enacting in a crude fashion some Gospel values. Yup! Absurd as it may sound but you read it right: The Gospel according to 300-pound wrestlers.

Take for example how the 165-pound, 5’3” dimunitive wrestler, Rey Mysterio, who pinned down and beat the 500-pound Big Show. Or how the over-bearing and overly-dressed JBL who always arrived in the arena in his spanking new limo was humbled by a virtually unknown newcomer. Kings like Booker T were dethroned by mere gladiators like Batista and those who bragged their titles about were stripped of them. In wrestling, size and number do matter but they do not an outcome make. Reversals of fortune do happen here as they are proclaimed in the Gospels.

The Blessed Virgin Mary beautifully and eloquently speaks about these and other reversals when she sings of the goodness of the Lord in her Magnificat—of how a mere maidservant could be hailed as the greatest of all women whom all generations shall call blessed, and of how those who languished for the longest time would finally find reprieve.

He has shown might with his arm, has scattered the proud in their conceit.
He has thrown down the rulers from their thrones but lifted up the lowly.
The hungry he has filled with good things but the rich He has sent away empty. (Lk 1:46-55)

And this is what usually happens in wrestling matches. The “Big” threatens the small ones. The powerful belittles the weak. The famous and wealthy scorn those who have none. But they who remain humble and trust not in the vigor of their own arms but fight until the last of their breath “shall regain their strength” (Is 40:31). They who do not cheat and whose “hands are clean” and have not “sworn as to deceive” another (Psalm 24), they shall ascend the throne [the mountain of the Lord] as rightful kings.

Finally, in wrestling matches, as in our daily lives, there are what we call Tag Teams. Two wrestlers face a pair of opponents and together they aim to defeat them. One wrestler for example may try to outwit and outplay another from the opposing team. But should he be weaker than his adversary, when he is weighed down and can no longer move, when he comes close to losing strength and hope, all he needs to do is reach his arm out and touch the finger of his tag partner (like the woman who touched the hem of Jesus’ cloak in Mt 9:20-22) and help is on its way.

In one way or another we may experience like we are being belittled, threatened, scorned by others more powerful and more intelligent than us. We may also feel that the weight of the whole world is on our bare shoulders and that we are losing stamina and strength to move on. We feel that we are ready to give up. We acknowledge that some things are just too much and too big for us. And it is in this recognition of our weakness and neediness that we get the help that we need. All we have to do is reach out our arm, or even lift a finger high, and the Ultimate Tag Partner shall finish the job for us. Isn’t that comforting a thought?

Now the more important question is, in the daily grind of your life, have you considered Jesus as a viable and available Tag Team partner?

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam.

Singing like Vincent Van Gogh

2006-06-22T06:26:00.000+08:00

What happens when a tone-deaf scholastic leads four new prenovices in singing The Theme from The Cardinal ? Well, your guess is as good as mine. I've always wondered whether St. Augustine was serious when he said, "To sing is to pray twice." Or if he did consider the fact that of the 4 point something billion people in this planet, only 0.000000012 % can sing like Pavarotti. While the rest of us mortals agonize over our "doe, a deer, a female deer" these demigods of the musical notes are already belting their Better Days song at age three.

What happened last night during our chant class was not really a total disaster. We just need, a little, um, practice! We may not be as good as the Vienna Boys Choir or Les Choristes du Saint Marc but we sure have the heart when it comes to praising God. And praise Him, we sure will, as long as we live. Now, it's really up to Him whether He would consider our singing praising or just plain croaking. Ribbit boys!

Moving Out, Moving On...

2006-05-06T06:15:00.000+08:00

I have just finished cleaning the room that I would vacate for its new occupant. It took me several days to do it. I still have some packing to do. But that can be easily done. What's taking too long is deciding on which stuff do I keep and which to throw away. I am a very sentimental person. I keep the smallest post-it notes given to me by friends. I keep receipts and movie tickets. I have worn-out business cards of friends that I haven't been in contact with for the last five years. Even spent pens find their way into my things. I know who gave what to me so it was taking me forever whether I would throw away what things. It's like you are throwing away a memory of a friend or a loved one no matter how cheap or ordinary the gift was.

But we all need to move on. We can't carry everything with us. It would be too burdensome to be carrying all the stuff we have especially those of no use to us anymore; or those that might cause harm to us. If life is a journey, we have to travel light....

On Monday, May 8, I'll be moving to my new home and work assignment in Cagayan de Oro City (Southern Part of the Philippines). I will be Director of our pre-novitiate house there and at the same time teach literature at the college.

When A Brother Leaves...

2006-03-25T07:43:00.000+08:00

Last Thursday we serenaded a Jesuit brother who decided to leave the congregation. At four am, we sang him songs that we usually sing for those who have just arrived in the novitiate and for those who are departing (this life). There where about twelve of us, sleepy-eyed, unwashed Jesuits, trying to fight sleep and tears from overcoming us.

Then it just dawned on me, that this brother of mine, will cease to be a brother to us. Yes, he will teach in the same university that I, we shall teach, but the brotherhood is broken. I'm not saying that we are not friends anymore, we are. I will not be able to relate to him as I used to as a Jesuit. He will just be a colleague. And being colleague is just as good as being a brother, but it's different.

Looking back, I am again reminded that for us, That's what life is inside. We arrive. We stay for awhile. We leave at once. We leave for longer time. We depart, to never return. New ones arrive. And the cycle repeats itself over and over again. Meanwhile fierce friendships are forged. Life-long partnerships in mission are born. Leaving comes. Death comes. Life begins.

To Art and your out-of-this-world laughter and shrill voice: you will surely be missed.

God Questions (What's Yours?)

2006-03-16T17:04:00.000+08:00

I tried Yahoo! Answers Beta. I typed this question: "If God is answering some of the questions we post here, what would your question be?" And I got some pretty, thought-provoking, heart-warming response. Here are some of them:

When can I come home. (I'm not talking about my house.)
What is President Bush's purpose?
What are God's plans for me in the future?
When is the BIG day? P.S. And can I watch?
Why are the democrats morally wrong? aka ted kennedy, bill clinton, jfk...etc ?!?!
and why did you divide us?and when is your next son coming?
wat is my purpose in life? haf i achieved it? or izzit yet to come?
how is my grandad?
did my hamster haf to die?
wat or where exactly is da balance between life n death? seeing things happen ard us somehow doesn't seem much of a balance...
What can I do to better serve you ?
Why do allow your children to be slaughtered by Bush/Blair/Howard/Hitler and all of the crazy warmongers of all time.
Why do "acts of God" kill so many others?
Why are there so many starving people in the world when people in other countries waste so much?
Why is there disease and hate and rascism?
Why are you letting us destroy the earth you created?
What are next weeks Mega Millions numbers?
Could you please talk some sense into your followers? they're missing your point and whipping themselves into a frenzy.
Why must we fight to solve our problems.
Why dont they believe ur Word and your Son Jesus? my heart hurts for these people?

Pretty interesting, right? So, what's your God question?

Jesus Take the Wheel

2006-03-11T07:37:00.000+08:00

I love watching the Americal Idol. Now on its fifth year, AI has captured the hearts and ears of millions of fans all across the globe. The competition gives dreamy-eyed crooners their chance of a lifetime to make it to Tinseltown Hollywood. Last year's winner was Cleveland-born country singer Carrie Underwood. She beat crowd-favorite Bo Bice in the final-two showdown. Now an established singer herself, Carrie has just released her first album entitled Some Hearts. In that album is the chart-topper for more than six weeks, Jesus Take the Wheel, which took America by surprise. Not everyone loves the song, as expected, but hey you can't deny that it's making waves across the mighty U.S. of A and abroad!

The song is truly a captivating song, heartfully rendered by the beautiful and gifted Carrie Underwood. Here is the lyrics to the song as well as the link to Carrie's personal website where selections from her album could be listened to:

Jesus Take The Wheel

She was driving last Friday on her way to Cincinnati
On a snow white Christmas Eve
Going home to see her Mama and her Daddy with the baby in the backseat
Fifty miles to go and she was running low on faith and gasoline
It would been a long hard year
She had a lot on her mind and she didn't pay attention
She was going way to fast
Before she knew it she was spinning on a thin black sheet of glass
She saw both their lives flash before her eyes
She didn't even have time to cry
She was sooo scared
She threw her hands up in the air

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all on my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel

It was still getting colder when she made it to the shoulder
And the car came to a stop
She cried when she saw that baby in the backseat sleeping like a rock
And for the first time in a long time
She bowed her head to pray
She said I'm sorry for the way
I've been living my life
I know I've got to change
So from now on tonight

Jesus take the wheel
Take it from my hands
Cause I can't do this all my own
I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
To save me from this road I'm on

Oh, Jesus take the wheel
Oh, I'm letting go
So give me one more chance
Save me from this road I'm on
From this road I'm on
Jesus take the wheel
Oh, take it, take it from me
Oh, why, oh

Carrie Underwood Official Website
____________________

When your world is spinning too fast and you are too furious like you wanna jump off from it, asking Jesus to take control of your life is the most practical thing to do.

He is heavy, He's my Brother!

2006-03-06T20:17:00.000+08:00

You may be familiar with this song:

He ain't heavy, He's my Brother

The road is long
With many a winding turn
That leads us to who knows where
Who knows when
But I'm strong
Strong enough to carry him
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

So on we go
His welfare is of my concern
No burden is he to bear
We'll get there
For I know
He would not encumber me
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

If I'm laden at all
I'm laden with sadness
That everyone's heart
Isn't filled with the gladness
Of love for one another

It's a long, long road
From which there is no return
While we're on the way to there
Why not share
And the load
Doesn't weigh me down at all
He ain't heavy, he's my brother

He's my brother
He ain't heavy, he's my brother...

----

This song was sung by many artists (Neil Diamond, The Holies, Olivia Newton John, among others)and is very popular among Christian circles. People often say that it is easier to carry someone when he is your own brother. I'd like to offer a different take on this theme. For me, the closer you are to someone (relative, friend, community member), the heavier he is to carry. When you know someone intimately, the more it is difficult be patient, to be forgiving. When someone close to you hurts you, the hurt is twice as painful as the one inflicted by a stranger or someone you don't care about. A brother is more difficult to correct, more difficult to please.

The emotional baggage or investment is bigger or greater with a brother. The memories you shared, experiences you had together, common things done with one another--these are what makes carrying him more difficult. When he wrongs you, the weight of these things further weigh you down. You find it harder to forgive. You find it more difficult to move on. You find it more unbearable to think that he has done the unthinkable to you (of all people, you are the least I expected to do this to me).

But here is the catch. When we truly love a brother, no matter how heavy he is as a burden on our shoulders, he becomes very light when we carry him with Jesus. I am reminded of that beautiful scene in the Passion of the Christ when Joseph of Arimatea helped Jesus carry his cross. In that scene, Joseph did not carry the cross by himself. He carried it with Jesus, their shoulders touching, their eyes meeting together. That is what makes things easy to carry, when we carry it with Christ.

Giving What You Don't Have and Leading to a Place You've Never Been

2006-03-02T08:31:00.000+08:00

A Jesuit brother eloquently preached this morning about the impossiblity of "giving what we do not have and of leading people to a place where we've never been." I realize this more and more the longer I stay in religious life. People come to us for advice on many things: relationships, career path, their struggle with sin and prayer. Often, I find myself unable to respond to their needs as much as I want. I realize that if I don't pray often enough, I cannot tell them how gracious and wonderful our God is. I cannot tell them to forgive their wrongdoers when I haven't made an effort to forgive people closest to me. I cannot lead them to salvation because very often I am the one who needs direction. How can I tell others that this is the way to Heaven, when I have no idea where the hell Heaven is?

I cannot give what I don't have. I cannot lead people to where I've never been.

Yet, there are also events in my life that say that these two statements are not necessarily always true. There had been times when I felt that I had nothing more to give, nothing more to offer yet grace abounded and filled me with blessings untold. Even in my darkest despair, when I considered that I had given all and nothing was left to spare much had been pour out. Georges Bernanos' Diary of a Country Priest describes this mystery as the Grace of the Empty Hands. He says that precisely those people who had none to give, none to offer, they are the ones who give the most because it is God, acting through them, who does the real giving.

There had been occasions when I felt completely lost yet souls found direction through my own emptiness. I remember the time when I suffered a major lost several years ago. Students and teachers thanked me for "guiding them back to God." I could not claim for myself that I did these people good. I can only say that God was using me for His Divine Purpose. The Lost Son, has become a pilgrim guide to equally lost souls. A vessel, to quote Hally Berry's acceptance speech, He used so His blessings may flow.

Empty Hands. Lost Soul. These two realities are what's giving me hope that I need not worry whether I would have something to give or have answers to peoples' questions when I lead them to Christ. It is through the mystery of the Empty Hands and the Lost Pilgrim Guide, that God shows His power to perfection. My only prayer is that God would continue to take away from me anything that would make me feel secure and self-reliant so I can continue to trust that He who "taketh away, giveth anew." He that wounds, binds. He that "leads" astray, guides back home. Blessed be the name of the Lord.

-------
Thanks to Erik John for leading me to this reflection.

Ash Wednesday

2006-02-28T21:59:00.000+08:00

Today, millions of Catholics worldwide will have their foreheads blacken by ash. Some uninitiated people may think this odd. Some may even label this a 'calling attention to oneself.' Why do Catholics observe this ritual? For many it's a sign and an act of repentance. We ask the minister to put ash on our foreheads to remind us of our motal lives, our origin and our eventual destiny. From ash we were created and so to ash we shall all return.

But ash reminds us of one more important thing: that when we repent, our bodies die in sin but are resurrected in Christ. Like the ash that marks our forehead yet not forever there as it can be easily washed, our sins may mark our lives but they can be easily removed when we ask the Lord to forgive us. We die with our sins everytime we accept our faults and desire to be forgiven of them and resolve not to do them again. But we also rise again as soon as we receive God's forgiveness.

Yet Christ knows that we are humans, it's in our nature to sin. We commit the same mistakes over and over again. That's the reason why we have to ask for forgiveness over and over again. Ash Wednesday is also the first day of Lent. It ushers the triumphant entry of Jesus in Jerusalem, his passion, death and resurrection. Today, let us remember that we are sinful people and that we need God to heal us of our sinfulness. Let us make this day a special day for the Lord.

"Turn away from sin and believe in the Gospel."

Allah, the Faithful One

2006-02-23T09:18:00.000+08:00

N.B. I have always wondered how our Moslem brothers and sisters regard their God, Allah. I ask how they approach Him in their prayer. I found this poem from a Maranao website and I'm surprised at the similarity of our idea of God with their own as loving, forgiving, magnanimous and merciful God . Now, if only other Christians would realize this, I wonder how they would react. I'd like to get your idea after reading this.

LET HIS LOVE REMAIN

A Poem by Jalylah A. Mala
(Sat. 04 September 2004)

Why did you keep your burden inside you when you have Allah to tell it to? Why did you fear everyone might hate you when you have Him
who understands you?
Why did you fill your heart with pain and anguish when you have Him
to fill it with eternal bliss?
Why did you choose to settle in turbulence when there’s His pure love
that speaks of peace?

Allah never left you alone,
He was with you all along,
He was tapping your shoulder when you almost wanted to stop,
He was putting a smile on your face when you almost wanted to give up.

Allah has seen the real person in you yearning,
He was wiping your tears off when you were down crying,
He has all the answers to all your questions but you just didn’t care,
You didn’t let Him be your guide because you weren’t sure if for you,
He was there.

Open your heart,
Let Allah wash away the hurt,
Embrace the greatest love He, alone could give you,
He will never doubt you, just be true.

Allah loves what He made,
“Nobody loves me,” that’s what you said,
He wants to see you smile so never lose hope,
So now hang on to His Paradise of heaven’s rope.

Pray to Allah for He listens to all prayers,
Believe in Him alone and not the deceiving others,
Do what He says for He is your mentor,
Love Him truly and not the impostor.

So listen now and lo!
Look up and take it slow,
Walk on to the life Allah chose you to live,
Live your life with Him and you will never grieve.

When you are in a discourse with no more to tell, let Allah’s love
be your word,
When you are in a battle unarmed, let His love be your sword,
When you feel cold, let His love warm you,
When you stumble and fall, let His love catch you.

When you can no longer think, let Allah’s love quicken your memory,
When you have no more food to eat, let His love fill your tummy,
When you can no longer breathe, let His love be your air,
When you have no more to drink, let His love be your water.

When you are lost in the rain, let Allah’s love be your shade,
When you can no longer hear, let His love be your aide,
When you are lost in the dark, let His love be your light,
When you can no longer see, let His love be your sight.

When you are bruised in a fight, let Allah’s love stop your bleedings,
When you can no longer fly, let His love be your wings,
When you are wronged in an argument, let His love unleash what’s true,
When you can no longer walk, let His love carry you.

When no one understands you, let Allah’s love be searched,
When no one listens to you, let His love be heard,
When no one believes in you, let His love be seen,
When no one trusts you, let His love be serene.

When you believe nobody loves you, let Allah’s love be your confidence,
When you doubt nobody protects you, let His love be your defense,
When you feel nobody cares for you, let His love heed,
When you think nobody minds you, let His love breed.

When someone fools you, let Allah’s love make you wiser,
When someone belittles you, let His love make you greater,
When someone scorns you, let His love admire you,
When someone abandons you, let His love show you what to do.

When you are weak, let Allah’s love be your strength,
When you can no longer smile, let His love be sent,
When you are lost, let His love be your way,
When you can no longer speak, let His love tell you what to say.

When you are afraid, let Allah’s love be your protection,
When you are confused, let His love be your liberation,
When you are ill, let His love be your remedy,
When you are hurting, let His love be your therapy.

When you feel like giving up, let Allah’s love push you,
When you feel tired and fed up, let His love’s purpose pursue,
When you reach the pinnacle of your journey,
The angels of the heavens will welcome you finally.

So go on,
Walk to Allah’s throne,
Dry your eyes now and believe,
You have a beautiful life to live.

Stand up and don’t be afraid,
Walk on to where the truth is laid,
Feel the presence of Allah’s love in every air that you breathe,
Feel the might of His power in every drop of hope you grip.

Walk on to the road leading to His heavens’ grandeur,
Put your best foot forward and think not of the obscure,
Don’t go a day without his love, you will never falter,
Don’t let the devil deceive your heart, Allah shall conquer it forever.

So, smile now oh dear,
Now it’s all clear,
The Almighty Allah is forgiving,
Just let go of your hurting.

Hold on and believe in Allah’s love,
That’s the best you can have,
Please never weep again,
And in your heart, let His love remain.

Rabbi, It’s not Good to be Here! But….

2006-02-19T23:30:00.000+08:00

This is a homily I delivered to the JP community last Saturday.

Yesterday, I attended Mass at the college chapel. Atty. Jo Maribojoc of JVP was sharing her vocation story. After her sharing, an elderly Jesuit priest named Sergio Su (yes, as in seryoso!) gave a little footnote on vocation. He cautioned young people who were in that mass that many people think that vocation is a life-fulfilling career. He narrated a story of someone he knew, a man who entered the Cistercians and went out because “he did not find fulfilment there.” This man, said Fr. Su then married and begat children. Later on he felt that was not happy in the married life either and he “abandoned” his family because “he did not find fulfilment there.” This poor man, according to Fr. Su, is still looking for fulfilment. What he doesn’t know is that religious life and married life are not life-fulfilling vocations. They are life-spending vocations.

Allow me to reflect further on this theme.

There is nothing wrong in finding fulfilment in what one does. A social worker for example may find fulfilment in what she does; giving aid and providing resources to people she works with. There is indeed a fulfilling joy at having accomplished something; like a well written paper, a lecture delivered with panache or a project done with excellence. There is fulfilment too in relationships that go smoothly and have few kinks to iron out. Fulfilment is found in deeply consoling prayers, when one can almost touch the hem of Jesus’ cloak. These fulfilments bring joy but more often than not, the joys don’t last. At the end of the day the social worker may find herself burnt out due to the many demands of her work. The A student finds studying increasingly boring or the teacher may soon discover that despite his passion in teaching, his students never seem to appreciate his dedication. The same goes for friendships that take on a new and different meaning. Prayers too, no matter how lofty may bring aridity rather than consolation.

A person who insists that religious life can offer fulfilment to his needs may soon find himself exhausted, bored, unappreciated, therefore, lonely. Sooner or later, he will ask whether religious life is really cut out for him or he is just plodding through it all. Now when we begin to see our vocation as a matter of life and self-spending we also start to understand its mystery. Ignatius did not found the Society because he felt good doing so. He did not roam the streets looking for beggars and prostitutes because the task was self-fulfilling. Xavier did not frequent hospitals and spent a great deal baptizing children in far away places simply because he found joy doing so. These two Jesuits found their vocations not self-fulfilling but self-giving.

I imagine the many years that St. Ignatius spent writing letters and finishing the Constitution of the Society. I imagine him spending countless hours poring over documents and letters, straining his neck, blacking his fingers with ink stains, working in suffocating heat or freezing coldness in his room. I imagine too the many times when God seemed so distant to him when he was battling his own demons. I wonder how many times Ignatius cringed at his seat praying and consolation did not come to him.

I also wonder the distress and depression that Xavier went through during his trips to Africa and Asia. How many times had he cursed the waves of the Pacific that in several times tried to kill him. What hardships did he endure teaching little children the rudiments of faith. I imagine him waiting everyday for a piece of good news from his dear friends in Europe while he stared and counted the coconuts in Sancian. What could have Xavier done when those consoling letters never came?

Life and self-spending rather than fulfilling. This is also the theme of our Gospel today. Peter, in his classic impulsiveness blurted out to Jesus when he saw the latter transfigured into a dazzling figure, “Rabbi, it is good that we are here! Let us make three tents: one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Little that Peter knew that the Son of Man was to be handed to his accusers to suffer great torture and be sentenced to die. Peter was looking for self-fulfilment. He wanted to make the most out of the rare opportunities to behold the manifestation of God’s power right before his eyes. He wanted to linger on and savour every bit of that experience. After all, not many were given that opportunity.

But Christ did not come to have a self-fulfilling mission. He had to give of himself in obedience to Father’s will. That meant giving up everything he loved on this earth: material possessions, fame and even intimate friends. Peter did not understand this. The Mount Tabor experience was, for him the zenith of apostleship. It was only later Peter learned that Christ’s full transfiguration happened not on Tabor but on Calvary where he gave his life as an ultimate act of self-spending. Christ told Peter that they must hurry down from Tabor because he still had many things to do before they take his life. And Christ was right because the real battle was not way up there on a mountain but in the plains where the lame and the blind, the sick and the lonely, the abandoned and the oppressed are.

Oftentimes I feel like Peter. I look for self-fulfilment in what I do. I continually search for that elusive joy in the mundane task and the daily grind. And how often have I been frustrated trying to do so. I keep on insisting that happiness is in doing things, and achieving great happiness is in accomplishing greater things. When these things happen I find myself praying for release from this preoccupation and for a fuller understanding of a life-spending vocation. So that like Ignatius, like Xavier, I too, can find God in all things “in insta importune et opportune” (in season and out of season). And like Peter I may learn to go down from my mountain and say, “Rabbi, it is not technically good to be here. But I will prepare three tents, one for you, one for me, and let Ignatius and Xavier share in the third one. ” (Or better yet, I will prepare three tents, one for Xavier, one for Ignatius and one for You and me and let Peter, James and John patrol the neighborhood for wolves and intruders. =) )

Weng Bava, SJ
February 18, 2006
JP Chapel

Greatest Lover in the World

2006-02-15T21:19:00.000+08:00

When I was in college I read one of Johnny Hart's panels showing two ants (apparently a pair) talking atop a wall. This is how their conversation goes:

Girl ant: "Honey, do you love me?"
Boy ant: "Yeah, of course."
Girl ant: "Do you love me enough to die for me?"
Boy ant: "Yeah, why not?"
Girl ant: "Do you love me enough to die for me even if I weren't even born yet?"
Boy ant: "Isn't that asking too much from a guy?"
Girl ant: "I don't know, I just know someone who does."

Then the last panel shows that they are actually perched on a cross. (Oh, how I wish I could have that comic strip and post it here!)

That very simple comic strip says a lot of what I want to say here: there is an actual person who can love us more than what we can imagine. There is someone who can go the distance of loving us, to death, even if we aren't born yet. Now isn't that something to be grateful for?

My Fish Stink, Lord! And my Bread is Soggy

2006-02-11T22:25:00.000+08:00

Have you ever had days when nothing you did seemed right? Like one really bad event which led to something worse and turned really really worst. Yesterday was a classic day for me. First I lost two articles that had just been given to me by my friends. The first one was a black jacket that I had just left in our dining room. I know I am clumsy with my things but I did not expect that someone would actually take interest in a second hand jacket. I also left a new umbrella at the university (that was my 8th!). Two of my appointments were canceled. The web designer I was talking with couldn't get things done according to what we have agreed upon. Then I had a misunderstanding with someone who lives close to me. And on and on and on, like a long list of soiled laundry. These things can sometimes make me wish that I had stayed in bed all day.

Today's Gospel talks about Jesus multiplying fish and bread. A fellow scholastic preached about giving to God even the littlest that we have so He can make big things out of them. I'm wondering what would God do to my little "fishes" that stink. Will He multiply my mistakes? Increase the number of my short-comings? Increase my woes? Give me a string of fiascoes after one blunder?

St. Ignatius, our patron saint, teaches us to review our days before we retire to bed. From our experiences, we dialogue with Christ how our day fared. We give Him thanks for the blessings He gave us. We are to feel sorry for offending Him or for turning His invitation down to a fuller communion with Him. We also ask Him to give us courage and determination and strength to carry on even if we don't see the significance of the trials that come our way.

Though it may be embarrasing to give it to the Lord, I guess my fish still counts, no matter how stinky it may be. After all, Jesus likes stinky people.

The Sacrament of Waiting

2006-02-09T07:31:00.000+08:00

by Fr. James Donelan, S.J.

The English poet John Milton once wrote that those who serve stand and wait. I think I would go further and say that those who wait render the highest form of service. Waiting requires more discipline, more self-control and emotional maturity, more unshakeable faith in our cause, more unwavering hope in the future, more sustaining love in our hearts than all the great deeds of derring-do that go by the name of action.

Waiting is a mystery—a natural sacrament of life. There is a meaning hidden in all the times we have to wait. It must be an important mystery because there is so much waiting in our lives.

Everyday is filled with those little moments of waiting—testing our patience and our nerves, schooling us in our self-control—pasensya na lang. We wait for meals to be served, for a letter to arrive, for a friend, concerts and circuses. Our airline terminals, railway stations, and bus depots are temples of waiting filled with men and women who wait in joy for the arrival of a loved one—or wait in sadness to say goodbye and to give that last wave of hand. We wait for birthdays and vacations; we wait for Christmas. We wait for spring to come or autumn—for the rains to begin or stop.

And we wait for ourselves to grow from childhood to maturity. We wait for those inner voices that tell us when we are ready for the next step. We wait for graduation, for our first job, our first promotion. We wait for success, and recognition. We wait to grow up—to reach the stage where we make our own decision.

We cannot remove this waiting from our lives. It is part of the tapestry of living—the fabric in which the threads are woven that tell the story of our lives.

Yet the current philosophies would have us forget the need to wait. “Grab all the gusto you can get.” So reads one of America’s great beer advertisements—Get it now. Instant pleasure—instant transcendence. Don’t wait for anything. Life is short—eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you’ll die. And so they rationalize us into accepting unlicensed and irresponsible freedom—premarital sex and extramarital affairs—they warn against attachment and commitment, against expecting anything of anybody, or allowing them to expect anything of us, against vows and promises, against duty and responsibility, against dropping any anchors in the currents of our life that will cause us to hold and to wait.

This may be the correct prescription for pleasure—but even that is fleeting and doubtful. What was it Shakespeare said about the mad pursuit of pleasure? “Past reason hunted, and once had, past reason hated.” Now if we wish to be real human beings, spirit as well as flesh, souls as well as heart, we have to learn to love someone else other than ourselves.

For most of all waiting means waiting for someone else. It is a mystery brushing by our face everyday like stray wind or a leaf falling from a tree. Anyone who has ever loved knows how much waiting goes into it, how much waiting is important for love to grow, to flourish through a lifetime.

Why is this so? Why can’t we have love right now—two years, three years, five years—and seemingly waste so much time? You might as well ask why a tree should take so long to bear fruit, the seed to flower, carbon to change into a diamond.

There is no simple answer, no more than there is to life’s demands: having to say goodbye to someone you love because either you or they have already made other commitments, or because they have to grow and find the meaning of their own lives, having yourself to leave home and loved ones to find your path. Goodbyes, like waiting, are also sacraments of our lives.

All we know is that growth—the budding, the flowering of love needs patient waiting. We have to give each other time to grow. There is no way we can make someone else truly love us or we love them, except through time. So we give each other that mysterious gift of waiting—of being present without making demands or asking rewards. There is nothing harder to do than this. It tests the depth and sincerity of our love. But there is life in the gift we give.

So lovers wait for each other until they can see things the same way, or let each other freely see things in quite different ways. What do we lose when lovers hurt each other and cannot regain the balance and intimacy of the way they were? They have to wait—in silence—but still be present to each other until the pain subsides to an ache and then only a memory, and the threads of the tapestry can be woven together again in a single love story.

What do we lose when we refuse to wait? When we try to find short cuts through life, when we try to incubate love and rush blindly and foolishly into a commitment we are neither mature nor responsible enough to assume? We lose the hope of ever truly loving or being loved. Think of all the great love stories of history and literature. Isn’t it of their very essence that they are filled with the strange but common mystery—that waiting is part of the substance, the basic fabric—against which the story of that true love is written?

How can we ever find either life of love if we are too impatient to wait for it?

n.b. I "stole" this post from a fellow Jesuit's site. I know he won't mind.

A Brother's Keeper's Prayer

2006-02-07T23:05:00.000+08:00

Lord,

I know I'm not perfect
And I appreciate the fact
That you don't want me to be one
You are just happy that I'm human
With all my faults and my weaknesses

But you won't tolerate my excesses
And short-comings
As much as possible
You want me holy
Despite my tendencies to sin and err

There are times when I feel that
I have done enough
But you still ask me to give more
To understand more
To forgive more
To sacrifice a little bit more

But sometimes I feel I want to give up
Sometimes I feel that you are asking
Too much and too many
And that you are difficult to please
And would take no for an answer

When I feel this, grant me courage
To go on, to continue loving
To continue giving the best I have
And being the best that I can be
Let me not be disheartened when things
Don't go my way or when events seem
To prove the otherwise

Make me more and more attuned
To the promptings of your Spirit
Teach me patience
Teach me endurance
Teach me serenity
In short, teach me to be
My brother's keeper.

Because most of the time,
I'm the one who need's keeping.

Amen

In the Father's Hands

2006-01-31T21:11:00.000+08:00

When I was a Jesuit novice I saw a most touching scene in a hospital that made me realize one important thing about God the Father. In the pedia ward of the Philippine General Hospital, a father and son caught my attention. The son, about 7 or 8 years old, was gasping for breath. The deep and sudden rise and fall of his chest indicated that he was in pain and great difficulty. The father was helping him breathe through the use of an Ambo bag as there was no available respirator for the son. The father was a picture of serenity and assurance.

With every gasp, the father would pump air into his son's lungs, thereby assuring his son's breathing. Any person knew that it was not enough to do that but at that time, the father was the only thing that was keeping the son alive. Yet I saw no panic nor heard any complaints from the father. He would just quietly pump oxygen into his son's mouth. From time to time, he would pause to wipe the sweat from his brow and his son's forehead. Then he would bend down to kiss his son's cheeks or utter words of encouragement to him (though I had know way of knowing for sure what he really said).

I never knew what happened to the son, whether he survived or not. I never learned what happened to the father either but one thing I knew was that the Father showed his son the best act of love that he could do. His son needed him by his side, and he was there. He never left the son during the time that he needed him most. He didn't mind the exhaustion of having to pump oxygen into his son's mouth again and again even though he wasn't sure whether his son would survive. At that moment, only one thing was in his mind: I have to be with my son because he needs me.

Whenever I reflect on this scene I could not help but cry. I know that God is exactly like that untiring father in the pedia ward: He never leaves our side especially when we are in great pain or loss. The son in the hospital might not even know that his father was by his side during his most difficult times. But his father was there nonetheless, like our own Father in Heaven. There have been many times (I'm sure you and I have) when we think that we have been abandoned or rejected by God the Father. Sometimes, all things seem to convince us that He has left us, but He is there. Always. If a father here on earth could show much love to his suffering son, how much more will our Father in Heaven show His love for us? God the Father will never forsake us or leave us. He is with us all the time. Only we have to believe in this so that we can feel His wonderful love for all of us...


: Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you. See, upon the palms of my hands I have written your name; your walls are ever before me. Isaiah 49:15-15

The Need to Pray

2006-01-19T22:45:00.000+08:00

I miss my friends at the Cistercian Monastery in the island of Guimaras (in the province of Panay, Philippines). They are about 10 to 12 monks whose mission in life is to pray and work. They start their day at 3 am to pray together as a community. I had an opportunity to join them in some occasions. It was truly a marvelous experience. It seemed that everything stopped inside their chapel--no wind, no howling of dogs or noise in the street. Even Time seemed to be respecting the monks' time. You can almost hear monks' cassocks brushing against the cold pavement of the chapel.

These monks have the most peaceful faces I have ever seen. It is as if they are in perpetual trance in contemplating something Beautiful. Their manner of speech is gentle and unhurried. Even their actions are deliberately slow. And they are a happy group. Once every end of the month, I went there when I was still teaching in Iloilo and I would feel refreshed at the end of my stay.

Prayer is such a luxury these days. A lot of people I have encountered have expressed genuine desire to pray, not in the hurried and formulaic way but in quality-time kind of prayer. They just lack time, they invariably say. Someone said that if you find it difficult to find time to pray, then you are really not giving yourself time to pray. Another one said that it's a waste of time to pray. I know of someone who says that prayer actually saves time. By praying at the beginning of the day you can begin discussing with God things that concern you. Then you can identify which of these are really important, that is, will deepen your relationship with Him and with others.

I wish I can visit my friends again. =)

In His Time (He Makes All Things Beautiful)

2006-01-15T20:36:00.000+08:00

A fellow scholastic's niece, Bea, gave me an unexpected gift last Christmas. It was a picture of the Crucifixion encased in a gilded glass frame. It's very ordinary. Nothing remarkable about it except that it has an analog clock inside. I haven't put battery on it so I can't say whether the clock will work. I kept it on my bedside table for several days. It was only this morning when I picked it up again that a flash of intuition, a sudden insight hit me like a lightning bolt. Then I heard a song I used to sing when things don't seem to go according to plan.

In His time, He makes all things beautiful
In His time, He makes all things beautiful
Lord, please show me everyday
That You'll do just what You say
In Your time, in Your time You make all things beautiful
In Your time, In Your time

I'm not sure whether I got the lyrics right but I sure got the message.
God is not only God of Time but also Timing. When it seems that nothing is going right or things take infinitely long to take shape according to my wishes and desires, then maybe I have not allowed Him to be God of Time. I make plans, they are often thwarted by things beyond my control. I build things, only to see them destroyed. I struggle to keep something from falling apart to later on see it crumbling before my very eyes.

So my fervent wish is to remember, remember that He is the God of Time and in due season He shall restore things to their proper places. He shall make all things beautiful, in His time. May I not be blind in appreciating that in the seemingly impossible, God makes miracles.

The Road Without End

2006-01-09T00:52:00.000+08:00

Take a look at this picture. What do you see? Is it the end of the road or the end of a long journey? Is the traveller on his way home or on to a new home? Are those clouds sinister or hopeful? What feelings are evoked in you as you look closely at this picture?

This new year is a perfect occasion to go back to your life and see where you're going, how many friends have you met along the way, what places you've been to, what memories do you cherish and which people have journeyed with you.

Something to Think About

2006-01-06T21:31:00.000+08:00

1. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.

2. Dear God, I have a problem, it's me.

3. Growing old is inevitable . growing UP is optional.

4. There is no key to happiness. The door is always open.

5. Silence is often misinterpreted but never misquoted.

6. Do the math. count your blessings.

7. Faith is the ability to not panic.

8. Laugh every day, it's like inner jogging.

9. If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray, don't worry.

10. As a child of God, prayer is kind of like calling home everyday.

11. Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape.

12. The most important things in your house are the people.

13. When we get tangled up in our problems, be still.

God wants us to be still so He can untangle the knot.

14. A grudge is a heavy thing to carry.

15. He who dies with the most toys is still dead.

Prayer for a New Year

2006-01-05T22:52:00.000+08:00

May you get a clean bill of health from your dentist, your cardiologist, your gastro-enterologist, your urologist, your proctologist, your podiatrist, your psychiatrist, your plumber and the I.R.S.

May your hair, your teeth, your face-lift, your abs and your stocks not fall; and may your blood pressure, your triglycerides, your cholesterol, your white blood count and your mortgage interest not rise.

May New Year's Eve find you seated around the table, together with your beloved family and cherished friends. May you find the food better, the environment quieter, the cost much cheaper, and the pleasure much more fulfilling than anything else you might ordinarily do that night.

May what you see in the mirror delight you, and what others see in you delight them. May someone love you enough to forgive your faults, be blind to your blemishes, and tell the world about your virtues.

May the telemarketers wait to make their sales calls until you finish dinner, may the commercials on TV not be louder than the program you have been watching, and may your check book and your budget balance - and include generous amounts for charity.

May you remember to say "I love you" at least once a day to your spouse, your child, your parent, your siblings; but not to your secretary, your nurse, your masseuse, your hairdresser or your tennis instructor.

And may we live in a world at peace and with the awareness of God's love in every sunset, every flower's unfolding petals, every baby's smile, every lover's kiss, and every wonderful, astonishing, miraculous beat of our heart.

~Extracts from a Prayer by Rabbi Jacob Pressman~