OUR PARISH PRIEST

JUST FOLLOW ME… We know from experience that some people are more likeable than others.   Some are easily friendly and accommodating, creating a pleasant feeling right from the start. We are of the same “vibes,” we say.   But there are others who radiate a different aura, who seem distant and unpleasant, whose presence we judge suspicious even before we fully know them. When we are with these people, we tend to treat them as our enemies. We declare war against them, whether it is the subtle, silent treatment or an all out revulsion that manifest in our actions. In the gospel, we see Jesus and the disciples travelling and passing through Samaria (Lk. 9:51ff).   The people there were not welcoming.   They rejected the Lord and his men.   By impulse, the brothers James and John declared war on the inhabitants.   They wanted to “call down fire from heaven to consume them.” Isn’t that exactly how we think about the people we consider as enemies?   How we want

RECEIVE   YOUR CROSS A man who got involved in all sorts of vices finally realized he was in need of change. He must start living right again.   But at that point so many troubles started to happen. The family had huge debts. His brother was in a critical condition in the hospital. He asked:   After I decided to reform my life, why all these trials? Who is exempted from the experience of the cross?   All of us, young and old, guilty or innocent, have our crosses, big or small. I’m sure as you come to worship this Sunday, a major part of your reflection has something to do with the crosses in your life. The Gospel today is stock knowledge in our consciousness. Jesus says: Whoever wants to follow me, take up his cross and follow me (Lk 9:23).   These words come from someone who truly knows what he is saying, someone who carried a heavier and more difficult load than all of us. Two things may happen when we look at the crosses we carry in our spirits

RESTORED BY LOVE When we were students in Rome, at first, we used to go out of our house dressed in clerical or priestly clothes.   But the Filipino workers readily spotted us and would come to us crying and sharing their woes. To avoid this, we decided to wear casual clothes when we left the house.   But still the Filipino workers there gravitated towards us. “You cannot fool us,” they said. “We can smell you are priests!”   What a Filipino instinct!   In the gospel today (Luke 7), Jesus was enjoying a party in Simon the Pharisee’s home.   Suddenly, there was a gatecrasher.   A woman, known to be sinful, heard about Jesus and entered the house to get close to him. She was not invited.   She merely “smelled” that the Lord was there!   Why did the sinful woman do such a daring action?   First, it was because of Jesus’ reputation.   Here was a man of God who came into the world looking for sinners, talking, listening, befriending them. While others labeled and

THE GOD WHO WIPES AWAY OUR TEARS Tears, they flow naturally: when babies cry for milk, when children are hurt after a fight, when lovers quarrel, when we learn we have a serious illness, when we are finally reunited with loved ones after a long absence. But no tear is more moving, more sincere, more unforgettable than the tears shed by a parent. How I can forget my father’s silent sobs during our long journey from home to the seminary on the day I left home to pursue my dream; or my mother’s swollen, weary eyes the moment I was wheeled into the operating room for my first experience of a medical surgery in high school. This background makes the readings today truly one of the most beautiful of all biblical accounts. In the first reading (1 Kgs 17), Elijah shares the sorrow of a mother who loses her son. He works a miracle by raising the boy up from the dead. The gospel is even more dramatic. Jesus comes upon a funeral cortege for a dead boy, the only son of