Prophets of the Present: Markhael

IN THOSE DAYS, turmoil and confusion loomed upon God's people living in the Philippines...

Despite seeming economic success, a greater part of the people continue to suffer because of widespread selfishness, corruption and dishonesty among its government and among the people. Even the leaders of the Church appear divided among themselves and many of our citizens feel hopelessly indifferent about the muddled situation.

Will there be true prophets bold enough to proclaim God's Word to this nation? To sort out issues and tell of what is really in store, here is one young but no less fiery prophet called by God...

The Book of the Prophet Markhael
H1E

Sample Prayer Service

Shalom Class!

A guide as you prepare for your Prayer Service this Quarter.

Prophets of the Present
Sample Prayer Service

More Creative Synthesis

Shalom Class!

Here are three more excellent videos from our Prophets Creative Synthesis Series.

Two videos from H1D:
1. A music video on the prophet Micah.
2. A very moving parallel between the Israelites experience and their own experience as a class!

Another from H1G:
1. A very cute children's drawing storyboard that has a very moving message right at its center. Very well put! (and presented before no less than the Principal herself as observer!)

Mazal Tov!

Prophets of a Future Not Our Own

Below is a copy of Archbishop Romero's poem "Prophets of the Future" which serves as our conclusion to the "Prophets of Old" and our transition to becoming "Prophets of the Present." Preceding it is a short writeup I wrote last year, which was the Jubilee of the First Jesuit Companions, as a form of introduction concerning Archbishop Romero.

Oscar Romero has always been a familiar name to drop in discussions about Church involvement in socio-political affairs. But he has never been as meaningful to me as after I watched the profoundly moving film, “Romero”. Three things struck me in particular: his vision, his passion, and his compassion which correspond to the peculiar gifts of the Three Companions whose Jubilee we celebrate this year.

One Good Archbishop

Oscar Romero began with a narrow vision: a world of books, a Church of the church, which conservative forces in the Vatican would have noted in choosing him as prelate of San Salvador. Such a narrow mind implied narrow possibilities—a certain predictability that assured the survival of the institutional hierarchy of the Church in the middle of conflicting forces that threaten to destroy one another in his native land. Romero must have seemed to them an excellent choice: one good archbishop who will never bother to stir the hornet’s nest and will surely preserve the status quo, at least for “The Church”.

But things turned out very differently. Moving from his small diocese of Santiago de Maria straight to the capital of El Salvador, Archbishop Romero began to see the situation from a wider perspective. He saw the wanton living of the military authorities and the business people who conspired to maintain their political and economic status. He saw the violence of the rebels, who were even joined by some of his priests who have ceased to believe in any other way to reform than bloody revolution. More keenly, he witnessed the anguish of the people who suffered horribly from this shameless plunder and useless conflict.

Vatican II asserts that nothing genuinely human fails to raise an echo in the heart of a follower of Christ. (GS, 1) It must have been a frightening cacophony of voices in the good bishop’s head: the subtle suggestions of the powers that be, the constant threats of the campesinos, and most of all the silent but piercing cry of the poor. Suggestions may be rejected and threats ignored; but even God who is in highest heaven, the Psalmist says, hears and is moved by the cry of the poor.

This awareness slowly, painfully led to the widening of Romero’s vision. He began to see that the interest of the Church is not only its own institutional preservation but first and most importantly, the welfare and dignity of persons whom God created in his likeness and Christ redeemed by his own blood. Romero’s famous words to his people were: “You are the Church.” The most moving scene in the film for me was that one in the parish occupied by the military. While the threat of death initially terrified Romero to peter out of retrieving the Sacrament in the desecrated church, the sight of the people emboldened him not only to return and rescue the sacramental species but to repossess the church and restore it to the people—the true Church of God. He began to see them as truly such and reminded them that they were in fact the presence of Christ here and now, tormented and crucified but on their way to redemption and liberation.

Such a vision kindled in him an intense passion to work for the liberation of his people though any possible and moral way. He negotiated with the government, dialogued with the revolutionaries, and worked in every way he can to recover a desaparecido, release a political prisoner, or comfort the widows and orphans of those who were murdered. Harassed and persecuted, stripped and imprisoned, he was weak and defenseless himself among his suffering people. But his mere presence in their midst steadily became a source of strength, courage and hope simply because he was solidary with them and they found in him not only a brave leader but a true father to lead, shelter and defend them.

Such a passion can only be fueled by true compassion—not one that is pretended but one that is so strong it cannot but issue into action: dispelling all fear, defying all opposition (including Rome’s constant ‘warnings’) and overcoming even his own inner hesitation. Such compassion moved him, not only to dedicate his ministry, but to offer his life as a final and ultimate act of witness to his faith in their struggle, his love for his people and his faith in God who calls all people to freedom and fullness of life. Indeed his blood, poured out with Christ’s own sacrifice, later proved to be, using the words of his self-fulfilling prophecy, “the seed of liberty” for his people and “a sign that hope will soon become a reality”.

Romero was truly God’s best choice for that difficult time in El Salvador. According to that dear pontifical hymn: Ecce Sacerdos Magnus, qui in diebus suis placuit Deo, crescere in plebem suam. Behold a great priest, placed by God in his own time to grow among his people. God himself emancipated and transformed him through his people to be one good archbishop who will in turn transform them and liberate them from their narrow visions, imbuing them with a passion sustained by hope and showing them a radical compassion that lays down its life in the true manner of the Gospel.

Romero died once but now he lives forever in Christ, in the Salvadoran people, and in our hearts who keep his memory a shining model and inspiration for our present struggle.

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Prophets of a Future Not Our Own
Archbishop Oscar Arnulfo Romero of El Salvador (1917-1980)

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.

The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,

it is even beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime

only a small fraction of the magnificent enterprise

that is God’s work.

Nothing we do is complete,

which is another way of saying that

the kingdom always lies beyond us.

No statement says all that could be said.

No prayer fully expresses our faith.

No confession brings perfection.

No pastoral visit brings wholeness.

No program accomplishes the Church’s mission.

No set of goals and objectives includes everything.

This is what we are about:

We plant the seeds that will one day grow.

We water seeds already planted,

knowing that they hold future promise.

We lay foundations that will need further development.

We provide yeast that produces effects far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything,

and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.

This enables us to do something, and to do it well.

It may be incomplete but it is a beginning,

a step along the way,

an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to enter and do the rest.

We may never see the end results,

but that is the difference

between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders;

ministers, not messiahs.

We are prophets of a future not our own.

Chinese Catholics exempted from abstinence on Ash Wednesday

from http://www.cbcpnews.com/

MANILA, February 5, 2008— Chinese Catholics in Manila have been dispensed from fasting and abstinence in observance of Ash Wednesday this year.

Manila Archbishop Gaudencio Cardinal Rosales granted the exemption following a request from the Chinese community as Ash Wednesday falls on the new lunar year’s eve on Thursday. In his circular letter dated Jan. 16, Rosales gave the dispensation “in the spirit of pastoral solidarity with our Catholic Chinese and Chinese-Filipino brothers and sisters.” “In solidarity with the whole church however, I request that those dispensed on Ash Wednesday will observe fasting and abstinence on the first Friday of lent (Feb. 8),” he said.

The request was coursed through Msgr. Bong Lo, who is the vicar for the Chinese and Chinese-Filipino Catholic community.

In Chinese culture, ashes symbolically represent pain and suffering and many Chinese Catholics do not want to receive such on a day of rejoicing.

The Chinese New Year falls on Ash Wednesday, a day of fasting and abstinence that ushers the season of lent.

After the Vatican II, the Church allowed the Catholic faithful of different countries to observe cultural holidays.

Fr. Genaro Diwa, of the Manila archdiocese’s liturgical affairs said that Chinese believers can receive a special dispensation to observe the ritual another day.

“That is to respect there cultural celebration so the Church gives in but they have to know that they are still obliged as Chinese Catholics,” said Diwa.

Chinese Catholics may not even want to receive ashes that day because the words “Remember man, you are dust and to dust you will return” are antithetical to the New Year practices, where death and mourning are not brought up.

Similarly, the solemn clothing appropriate for Mass goes against the New Year sense where the colors for penitents—black or white—are avoided. (Roy Lagarde)

The Ashes of Lent and the Water of Easter

The Ashes of Lent and the Water of Easter

Leo R. Ocampo

Ash Wednesday signals the beginning of Lent, a season of cleansing and renewal preparing us for Easter. On this day, ashes are traced on our foreheads in the form of a Cross as we are told: “Turn away from sin and believe in the Good News.” You may find it ironic that we soil ourselves with ashes as we begin this special time when we are supposed to clean up and renew our lives. But looking a little closer at the symbol of the day and two familiar stories from the Hebrew Scriptures may show us the meaning of this important ritual and the entire season of Lent.

Turn Away from Sin

The ashes that we use come from the palm branches that were blessed during last year’s Palm Sunday. The burning of these dried and withered palms signify our dying to our old selves, once green and fresh in our commitment to Christ, which may have become dull and lifeless because of complacency and sin.

We burn to make space for something new and something better. Since ancient times, our ancestors have burned forests to clear up space where they can live and plant. We burn fat to build more muscle. Even in this modern age, we burn computer files to accommodate new documents and more important programs in our hard drives.

Thus, we observe the season of Lent and its threefold discipline of fasting, prayer and almsgiving for us to slowly and gradually die to our old selves and make space for something new and something better. We fast and try to abstain from things we usually binge in—not only meat but perhaps soda, TV or computer games—to restrain our impulsive attitudes and have more self-control. We pray some more—not just mumbling our usual prayers but perhaps looking at ourselves some more in front of the mirror and before God—to temper our restlessness and to focus again on the things that really matter in life. We give some more of what we have to others more in need—not just the usual coin to a beggar but perhaps more kindness and forgiveness to those who frequently get on our nerves—to overcome our self-centeredness and cultivate compassion.

Believe in the Good News

The Hebrew Scriptures shows us the good that God can create from ashes. In the Second Creation Story, we see a dry and barren wasteland where nothing could be found:
At the time when the LORD God made the earth and the heavens—while as yet there was no field shrub on earth and no grass of the field had sprouted, for the LORD God had sent no rain upon the earth and there was no man to till the soil… (Gen 2: 4)

Suddenly, water gushes out of nowhere and begins to water the parched ground. We see God form man from the dust of the earth with his own very hands and blow into his nostrils the breath of life.

…but a stream was welling up out of the earth and was watering all the surface of the ground—the LORD God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being. (Gen 2: 6-7)

God’s work of Creation does not stop there. After a time of terrible destruction, when the people of Israel were defeated by the Babylonians—their city burned to the ground and the people hopelessly scattered like ashes away from the Promised Land—the Lord transports the prophet Ezekiel back to the battlefield full of dry, decaying bones, and asks him:

“Son of man, can these bones come to life? Prophesy over these bones, and say to them: Dry bones, hear the word of the LORD! Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: See! I will bring spirit into you, that you may come to life.” (Ezekiel 37: 3-5)

As the prophet proclaimed God’s Word, the ashes began to form and cover the dead, withered bones with sinews, flesh and skin. God then breathes on them once again with his spirit and gives them life.

This is the Good News of Lent. From the ashes of our dying to self, God himself will form something new and something better. As we come to Mass on Easter morning, we are sprinkled with refreshing water to irrigate our old, lifeless dust and raise us to new life.

Traced in the Form of a Cross

The ashes of our dying to self are traced on our foreheads in the form of a Cross to remind us of the even deeper meaning of what we are trying to do. We do not just die to ourselves but we die with Christ who was sinless and pure but did not feel ashamed to soil himself with our life, in all its dryness and dullness, and even our death. God stoops to the ground once again and with his loving hands, now bloodied and nailed to the wood of the Cross, forms us from the dust of the earth and the ashes of our dying.

Receiving the ashes means accepting the challenge to clean up our lives and change ourselves for better with the assurance that God himself will carry our efforts through. He does not tire of ever creating so this should give us the courage to keep on purifying and improving ourselves. Year in and year out, he gifts us with Lent, an opportune time to burn bad habits, rid our lives of useless clutter and allow him to form of us, something new and something better.

This is the mystery of the Cross, which we celebrate during the season of Lent and ought to live out throughout our lives: we die to ourselves in union with Christ so that the Father may also raise us together with him to newness of life in the Spirit. If we die with Christ in the Cross of Lent, we shall surely be refreshed and created anew by the water of Easter—resplendently rising from the ashes in glorious Resurrection!