On symbols

Do you know why I can't see any stars tonight ? Because you outshine them.

Do you like bananas or blueberries? I want to know what kind of pancakes to make in the morning.

Do you know you're like my blood? Because you're A+ and you're always in my heart.

Did you just fart? Because you blew me away!

***

Pick up lines have been in the limelight of late. I’d like to think that they are so because of our attachment to symbols.

The bananas or blueberries, the the stars in the night, the blood, and yes, even the fart could be stretched a little further to symbolize how they remind us of the person whom we consider significant to us.

Or if there is no connection at all, we’ll try to find one.

A grade six student from Albay in the name of Janela Lelis, must have found that strong connection between the Philippine flag and the country it represents when she braved through the floodwater as she tightly held the Philippine flag in a heroic act to save the national symbol from being swept away by the raging water on that stormy day on July 26.

To recognize her act of bravery, a little Philippine flag was pinned on the left collar of her uniform. She was also given P 20,000 in cash for this selfless act.

More than two thousand years ago, a group of wise men found a connection between a star and the coming of the Great King who would rule them all.

That star, in my opinion, could just be any random stars in the sky if it did not lead the magi to their supposed destination: the infant Jesus.

But it did what it ought to do. That explains why every year we take pains in thinking of what type of star to crown our Christmas
tree.

Symbols are fundamentally important not because of what they are, but because of what they stand for.

In that first Christmas night, the star was there to symbolize the coming of God and to announce the reign of His Kingdom.

May we, who also seek to discover God's will for us, may become ourselves an
outstanding sign of God’s loving compassion.

So that when people--when our companions, when the young people we relate with--see us, they will be reminded that Christmas is not an event which only happens once a year. For with our witnessing, it goes on. Daily.

Merry Christmas. God bless. Good evening.

True to our humanity

Before Paulo Coelho, JK Rowling, Bob Ong, Dave Peltzer, Arun Gogna invaded the seminary, there was first Robert Fulghum.

In his magnum opus, entitled "All I really need to know, I learned in kindergarten," he outlined lessons, which were not taught to him by his professors in the graduate school, but learned in his lowly kindergarten class.

These are some of the things he learned:

• Share everything.
• Play fair.
• Don't hit people.
• Put things back where you found them.
• Clean up your own mess.
• Don't take things that aren't yours.
• Say you're sorry when you hurt somebody.
• Wash your hands before you eat.
• Flush.
• Live a balanced life.
  
• Be aware of wonder.
  

I am reminded of this when I was having my personal spiritual reading on the life of Savio the other day, and reached that episode when he sought the help of St. John Bosco to help him attain sanctity.

Don Bosco told Dominic that in his school, to become a saint, one needs to be cheerful. The former made the latter realize that to be genuinely holy, one needs to be a real human person first. The age we are in may be characterized by immediacy: think of pancit canton ready in just three minutes, when antique furniture could be manufactured while you wait, we come to realize that "instant" does not apply in the process of sanctity.

We cannot short circuit the process.

Here in the seminary, we have to learn how to become human first. And when we have mastered that lesson: when we are able to say sorry, inculcate discipline, develop the habit of denying ourselves; the task of becoming a saint will just be some corners away.

In our quest to reach sanctity, let us be first true to our humanity.

Back from the camp!

We're back from a three-day rolling camp in Central Luzon. It's a tiring activity and I'm not yet sure if I did enjoy it. Our not pushing through in conquering Mt. Pinatubo has really been a big disappointment. But I guess, it's not really meant to be. At least, not yet.

Nevertheless, the camp was one opportunity to bond with new community members and even expose myself to the Salesian setting in the northern part of the FIN province.

Back to blogging

I'm back from a five-day mandatory spiritual annual retreat.

Retreat?

A retreat is an important 'pause' from our ordinary life as religious. It is where the heavy schedule in the seminary is set aside, albeit for only a week, to give way to a longer time of prayer, reflection or simply, quietude.

Yes, the people of the secular world may call it a respite, a vacation.

I guess, in some respects, it really is.

This retreat made me a chance to be with myself and the person I call my God in the midst of an environment that is much suitable for prayers.

The moment did not only give me the chance to reflect, pray and meditate. It also afforded me with the opportunity to renew my ties with some friends and to keep up with them.

But if there is anything this retreat has left in me (aside from the many rosaries I was able to make), it is the thought of the year ahead.

My second and final year as a postnovice brother, and the penultimate year before the much dreaded practical training years set in.

Some musings on community life

If one asks about the difference between diocesan and religious clergy, one of the most common answers is community life. Religious thrive in communities; on the other hand, a diocesan priest lives in a parish all by his lonesome.

Sure thing, your idea of what a Salesian community is is different from what we Salesians know. This is not because it's explicitly inscribed in our Constitutions, nor because we devoted one whole month to discuss the subject once upon a time in our year of novitiate.

But more than anything else, we Salesians concretely experience community life on a ‘24/7’ basis. To live and work together is for us Salesians a fundamental requirement and a sure way of fulfilling our vocation (C49).

It is queer to realize that in this age of individualism, which tends to emphasize the value of independence and self-reliance and puts a premium on achieving one’s personal goal than to work towards collective development, there are still individuals who profess to live in a community ‘where their love for each other leads them to share all they have in a family spirit, and so create communion between person and person’ (C49).

As we celebrate our community day today, we also give due reverence and love to the leader of our community who has been an efficient father, teacher and spiritual guide for each of us.

I am aware that the past year was not an easy one for our community. I say this as a young Salesian barely crawling towards my first year in the congregation. But amidst the challenges we encountered, our beloved Fr. Rey did not only share with us courage and principled leadership, but also led us to the path of charity in accepting possibilities which might go against our liking.

Enjoying the ride

If I had fallen asleep and suddenly woken up on a roller coaster, what would I feel?

Well, I would feel trapped and sick, terrified of every bend, wanting to get off. However, if I believe that the track is my destiny and that God is in charge of the machine, then the nightmare becomes something thrilling. It becomes exactly what it is, a roller coaster, a safe, reliable toy, which will eventually stop, but, while the journey lasts, I must look at the surrounding landscape and whoop with excitement.

This lengthy quote from Coelho's book struck me this morning. Such reminder that life carries turns and trots and loops and whatnot. And we just have to sit comfortably and relish the experience as someone in control takes charge.

Thorny lent

I received from Brs. Paul and Jun some pots of cacti (or if you want it anglicize, cactuses) after their trip to Baguio. Baguio is in the northern part of Luzon and is known to be the summer capital of the country. But we'll not go there for our summer break. It will be somewhere in the south of Luzon. But that would be another entry.

Baguio is known for its flourishing flora. And ornamental plants are sold there like anything. I pleaded to Paul and Jun if they could get for me cactus as I am starting a "cactinarium" (it's a coined word, please credit me for it). And you know what? They happily obliged! They brought home not only one or two or three but five kinds of the species.

This one is not part of the 'present' since I got this from our backyard. I shoveled some little grits sprinkled them around the cactus.

Now, I'm sure you want to see some photos. I'm ready for them. Here they are:

Now, my problem is how to properly identify them. Anyway, Br. Jomar who is heavy in preparing for his de universa this Friday is very much agog to help me as we browse over photos and try to decode the polymaistic scientific names of cactus provided in the web. And as of this writing, we are failing.

This one is interesting since it bears flower. And what is more interesting is that its flower closest in the afternoon, and blooms again the following day.

The moment I arranged them all on our circular table, I gasped because of their beauty. The Gardener who 'planted' them must have been really 'most splendidly magnificent' since despite willing these cacti to have spikes and thorns and needles and all, they still communicate His beauty.

Happy birthday, Lonxs!

I met Br. Lonxs nine years ago in Bansud, Mindoro during our vocation camp. Both of us were part of a 20-something or so group bound to enter the seminary. We were relatively young then. Both of us were in our early 20's, while most of our companions were fresh out of high school, in their late teenage years, perhaps.

He was unassuming (humble at many times!), naive (almost childlike), funny (he is always ready with some dose of banter), friendly (a real people-magnet), helpful (most of the time, people take advantage of his goodness), hardworking (I ran out of ideas here J).

These were true then and they are still valid up to this point.

But more than these, he has this profound sense of people skills he could rightfully call his, and his alone. He has a compassionate heart. Always willing to set aside everything just so he is able to help. He’s considered as the elder brother of the batch because he seemed to have taken upon himself to be responsible for each one. Once, I was surprised knowing that he tasked himself to wake up a classmate whenever the latter falls into sleep in the wrong time and in the wrong place.

When were supposed to fly to Cebu five years ago as a novices, I backed out, leaving all of them--Lonxs included. But it's funny that it was providential then since the person (I don’t know who he/she is) who booked the tickets for all of us got tickets for everyone—me included—excluding him. It was a blessing in disguise since he eventually used mine.

Whenever reunions among the members of the batch is held, that anecdote would find into the scheme of things.

We were not close then. We were friends, we belonged to the same batch, but we belonged to different worlds. He had his circle of friends, while I had mine. Now, despite being advanced in formation, he seems to be the closest to me. We grab the chance to keep up with each other. Some quick exchange of banter precedes an intimate dosage of what's been happening to us .

I'm a batch collector. And in my process of collecting individuals in various seminary batches I've had over a span of nearly a decade, I could easily say that he's a precious catch I'm not willing to let go.