scribbling through time: thoughts of a formandi

2011-08-14T03:25:00.000-07:00

Faith-Sharing
For who I am now and what I have become so far, I know I should be thanking a lot of people. Lately, I have come to realize how I have failed to express this gratitude to God and to the specific persons who have helped me in various ways in my life journey. Hence I have recently resolved myself to spend some time writing and sending letters so that I may put my “salamats” into words and communicate them to certain individuals. This is my way of making amends with my past and celebrating the gift of my present life—the noviciate.
As I was beginning to write my letters of thanks, I have been caught up between doing the task in the traditional way—the handwritten style or making it typewritten and sending it via e-mail. Nowadays, the former seemed to be a thing of the past, old-fashioned and requires quite a lot of work as compared to the latter which appears to be more convenient. This is so not only because typing is rather effortless as compared to writing but even the manner of sending mails, whether by way of post or e-mail, has a glaring difference. E-mail is certainly better off than Snail mail, or so it seems. The temptation is to do it the easy way. Yet after some thinking over what should be done, I saw that my purpose is defeated when I settle for the convenient way. Writing in drafts and rewriting it for a final copy may sound tedious. But it dawns on me that it can be a way of showing how thankful I am to the person receiving the letter. The effort and the intentionality involved in writing it capture, aside from the words therein, my expression of sincere and heartfelt gratitude.
Words will merely be empty rhetoric unless they are lived, applied and acted upon. It is one thing to say thank you. Yet I find it more meaningful and worthwhile to show how thankful I am not only in words but in actions. The same goes with faith. Professing my belief in Jesus Christ is not the same as leading a life grounded on a belief in Jesus Christ. This is the message of the Gospel for me today: to be a man who has a word of honor, a man true to his words. It is challenging me not just to say what I mean, but mean what I say. Indeed Jesus’ powerful message is true: “Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father in heaven.”-Mt 7:21
As I ponder my life, I feel ashamed and guilty of the countless times that I have not been true to my word to many people. Yet even more shameful are the instances when I have not been true to my promise to God. I have been very inconsistent, saying “yes” to God but finding myself leading a life doing otherwise. God has been the only one who has been truthful to his promise of loving me and of being always with me. There remains this feeling of unworthiness to stand before God as I recall the numerous times that I have turned away from Him trying to search for meaning and fulfillment on other things but to no avail One time when my teaching job was about to end, a friend of mine asked me what were my next plans. I told him, “I am going back to the seminary.” She then had a curt reply, “Aren’t you just wasting your time?” Her spontaneous remark had left me stunned for a while. It kept me thinking how true I was to my word. Was I really sincere of, in a sense, leaving the world behind in lieu of following Christ the Redeemer? Was I ready to face the gravity and the consequences of saying “Yes” to God?
Before, I may have associated the noviciate to a prison. But I see noviciate now as my rite of passage to manhood. I am not, and I don’t need to be a boy anymore who tends to be immature and irresponsible to choices I make. I must face this life that I have freely chosen. I have to walk the talk. And though it seems that this road that I’m taking is narrow and uncertain, I press on still for I know that God’s grace suffices. To be honest, the temptation to succumb to secular and worldly life still teases me. Even the invitation to take another vocation does not slip my mind. Just recently, an ex-girlfriend of mine who has lately been keeping in touch e-mailed me saying, “I hope I am not talking to a priest right now, you know I’ll always be waiting.” But God knows I have resolved myself. I have never felt this free before. In my heart, I know I have chosen a path that is wonderful, meaningful and worthwhile. This will be my way of facing God as a man, of rising up once more from where I have fallen, and of being true to my promise just as He continues to be.

“Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my father in heaven.”-Mt 7:21

2011-06-22T05:35:00.000-07:00

Prayer: A Buried Treasure

2011-05-22T02:07:00.000-07:00

I woke up in the middle of dawn. I didn’t know what had awakened me. Though feeling half-asleep, it hit me that I had forgotten to pray that night. And so, I bowed down my head and talked to God whom I suspect was the culprit for having interrupted my sleep. And then, I felt peace. After I prayed, I dozed off.
When I was young, I was taught by my parents that you could talk to God through prayer. Adding to this, you could also present your wishes to God which had the chance of being granted depending on how you have behaved that day. These ideas gave me the impression that prayer is something that costs quite an effort. It was something that you work for—that you needed to please God in order for your wants and wishes to be granted by him. It didn’t take too long when I was by and by setting aside my prayer life. My eagerness to pray waned. I just thought that God was too demanding. Pleasing anyone even God was just not my forte.
As I grew up, my prayer life changed as the way my image of God changed. There came a time when I experienced God as a loving person who understood and accepted me as I am. During this time, God became my confidante. My prayers were then opportunities of ventilating to God my struggles and problems in life. Most of the time, I was the one talking to him, telling him my thoughts, reflections and inner yearnings in life. From an image of a God who wanted to be pleased, I knew Him now as a friend who listens and journeys along with me in life. This would be then my attitude and understanding of prayer in my early years in the seminary.
Yet there still came a time when I began to lose my habit of praying. This was particularly true when I had a teaching job. Living outside the walls of the seminary meant detachment from a structured prayer life. Before I knew it, my appreciation and love for prayer were then slipping away. In times of being unable to pray, I justified myself that I was either too busy or exhausted from work. I knew for myself that these were half-meant or even not totally true. They were alibis to veil the startling truth that I just refused to talk to God anymore. But even in the times of my “turning away” from God, I still suspected that He was constantly extending Himself, making His presence felt in my seemingly preoccupied and restless life. I would wake up in the middle dawn having forgotten to pray the night before. He wanted to reconnect. It dawned on me that I felt the same.
Recently, I realize that one of the reasons why I came back to the seminary is to befriend again the God who I thought I lost. Just as my relationship with God has its ups and downs, so too is my prayer life. If I am to describe what my prayer life is like at this moment, it will be like this: A young man is digging up a treasure that he has buried before in his earlier years. The digging is quite laborious and is taking long. He begins feeling anxious and worried. The treasure might not be there already. Someone might have stumbled upon it and kept it for himself. He might be digging in a wrong spot. But his hope never fades. His faith tells him to go on. Until he finally finds what he is looking for. He finds the treasure. He is elated, overwhelmed by the feeling of joy. He clutches the treasure with his hand as if it is his most prized possession. He ponders the value of his treasure and savors that very moment.
Prayer for me today means pondering God’s presence. Now, I keep myself still and let myself be in awe and amazement at this great and unfathomable God. Not much talking and thinking is required, only loving. His friendship is the treasure I once buried, but now I so cherish. And somehow, I can’t help myself but to share this treasure to others as well.

2011-05-22T02:02:00.000-07:00

“And the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world”

Growing up in high school, my family ran a small bakery shop just beside our house. I remember being greeted every morning with the wonderful smell of freshly baked pan de sal that had just been taken out in the oven. During weekends, I would gaze with curiosity and awe at the minute details of how a dough is made and processed; how it finally ends up in becoming good-tasting bread. Occasionally with the baker’s guidance and instructions, I would participate in the making of the bread; beginning from the mixing of the necessary ingredients, kneading the dough when it is formed, cutting it into the prescribed weight and sizes and finally letting the dough be cooked into the oven. The rest would be putting the bread into display for people to purchase them. There was a special feeling of pride and gladness in seeing people buying and eating the bread on which I had spent some amount of labor.
Situated a stone-throw away from our house was a slum area where most of my childhood playmates and friends reside. One time, I invited some of them to come over at our house. Upon arriving, I pleaded to my mom to give them free bread to eat. I did that because I know for a fact that these guys were always hungry, some who in their houses have barely even something to eat. On that day, there was again that special feeling of pride and gladness in being able to share our bread to the poor of our neighborhood.
Reflecting on the gospel of today wherein Jesus reveals himself to us that He is the bread of life brought back my own memories of making and sharing bread with other people. Yet while pondering God’s word, I noticed that the familiar feeling of pride and gladness that I have felt before are gone. It dawned on me that when I compare my own act of sharing bread to my friends, with that of Jesus giving himself as bread to others, my efforts were of little value. Although I honor that positive sense in me to be thoughtful of others, I am guilty of the fact that that my acts of giving were blemished with impure intentions and immature motivations. In hindsight, part of my being generous was to please my friends. I was giving because I expected something in return. It was certainly convenient for me to give off something that did not really matter that much at that time. In the midst of my attitude of seemingly being generous, was the guilty presence of selfishness.
Jesus is totally otherwise. While I give out of convenience and excess, He gives until it hurts. He has even given his own life just so that others may have life, just so that I may have a true and meaningful life. He lets himself be vulnerable. He has suffered and endured pain. What a great love! I realize that this is what true love really means. It is when I am willing to sacrifice, to be vulnerable, to be helpless, to suffer even to the extent of laying down my own life for the sake of the other, only then will I gain the right to say that I am truly giving—that I am truly loving.
In the initial days of my noviciate journey, I felt displaced and unsecure. The sacrifice of throwing away life’s conveniences, of being away from my loved ones, made no sense. I struggled. I was unsure of how long will I last. I questioned God, “Is this the best way for me to love?” Unknowingly, those doubts, fears and pains were God’s ways of telling what generosity and love truly means. Give up your own self. Love until it hurts. I realize now that I am like a dough in the hands of a baker who kneads, cuts and transforms the dough into bread. God is now the baker. As I see it, Jesus is transforming my life.
The giving of his own life has given me new life. My noviciate life is my way of returning the favor and passing on his example.

The Christ in the Farmers

2010-05-27T08:36:00.000-07:00

There is this Greek term in theology known as kenosis describing God emptying Himself for the salvation of His people. This self-emptying of God had its ultimate expression in the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Son of God who sacrificed himself for the atonement of the sins of humankind. I came across this teaching through seminary studies and professors of theology. Yet little did I know that the kind of people who would really make me understand this truth would come from the humblest of sectors of our society—the farmers.
The week-long orientation of the newly hired ACD teachers, guidance counselors and office personnel reached its final toll with an exposure in Brgy. Salvacion, Sitio Cogonon, Trento, Agusan. It was an opportunity to have a first-hand experience of the lives of the farmers. After a trip of more than three hours in a rented van, the place could be accessible via a 30-minute ride with a 5 to 6-seater katig-motorcycle. I must say, the travel by motorcycle was one heck of a bumpy ride leaving us exposurees calling out to God for our dear lives.
But the most striking experience for me was coming to see and feel the pitiful situation of most farmers in the area. Since most of the agricultural plain lands were owned by big corporations and private companies, farmers are forced to plant on distant and steep terrains deep in the forest. It took us more than an hour of hiking just to reach a relatively small area of rice plantation in a bakilid terrain. Despite the scorching heat of the sun, we tried to accompany the farmers in harvesting. Yet unlike the lumad farmers, we did not stand too long since the toil proved to be too much to bear for most of us. The thought that a single grain of rice is borne out of a farmer’s single drop of sweat finally made sense to me. Personally, the impact and learning drawn out of the Exposure-Immersion experience was far more moving than any book, movie or case study could give. It was as if blinders had been taken out of my eyes. At that moment, I was grateful that I knew and felt how it’s like to be a farmer.
Christ’s act of kenosis or self-emptying is a redeeming sacrifice for others. In the same way, the farmers of our country are doing that same act of self-emptying. They are the silent heroes who empty themselves just so that others may live. I find it ironic that those who toil in planting and harvesting our country’s staple food are those who have less or even nothing to eat. They are the Christ who are persecuted and crucified by the unjust system of our society. Thanks to them, they have taught me who Christ truly is.

Postulancy formation... for-mission

2010-04-03T03:10:00.000-07:00

Our Postulant Director once told us that when it comes to any stage of Redemptorist seminary formation, Postulancy stands closest to the actual Redemptorist way of life. Unlike college which generally stresses academic formation, postulancy allows formandis to have much time being immersed into the mission areas. For us postulants, one thing that stands out among many experiences we’ve had is indeed mission. As one confrere rightly puts it, “Mission is the flagship of our congregation.” That may have been the reason why mission is clearly stressed as early as collegiate, and continues to be so as one progresses in formation. And, although we have been involved in many other wonderful activities such as ecumenical forums, vocation promotions and lots of pamiesta and Pamertday (fiesta and birthday celebrations), much of our time have been devoted to mission.
The current mission here in Dumaguete is in Sibulan. If I’m not mistaken, a Redemptorist mission was held in the same place many years before. Sibulan, the port in Negros across the island of Cebu, is a developing municipality. Known for its devotion to San Antonio de Padua which falls on every 13th day of the month, thousands of believers from all walks of life would flock the believed-to-be miraculous image of St. Anthony offering him their petitions and devotions. The first missionaries who settled and initially developed the place were Agustinian Recollects. It was up until recently that the Parish was handed over to the Diocesan clergy.
Like many developing places, a lot of issues that have emerged from Sibulan are being faced up by its Church. One evident concern that has come into sight is morality. Currently, a lot of night clubs, bars and motels have been put up which consequently encourages prostitution and moral devaluation. Many foreigners have become attracted with the place because of this growing business. And, the local government and the Sibulanons seem to have mixed, if not indifferent, reactions regarding the issue.
Doing mission in this semi-rural and semi-urban area can be quite testing. One particular goal of doing mission in this place is to encourage the people to live their faith. Addressing this challenge to people, whether they be from bukid or poblacion, requires a lot of initiative and creativity on the part of us missioners. The constant question for us is “how do we become living witnesses of the Gospel values in this kind of society?” By the time the mission in Sibulan has culminated, which is on Dec. 13, we still may have not figured out the sufficient answer to the question. But, we are certain that we have made a difference in our own humble ways. The challenge of doing mission is indeed not that simple and easy. Yet it is a journey worth taking precisely because it is a way of witnessing to the faith.

Sugar Isn't Sweet at All

2010-03-04T07:31:00.000-08:00

Waking up at 7 in the morning, I knew we postulants were late for a hard day’s labor in the tapasan. An hour ago, the obreros would have started harvesting sugar canes—cutting off its long shoots and carrying a heap of them over their backs toward the carrier trucks. Almost all their lives revolve around this back-breaking labor in the haciendas. Being paid for the service rendered each day is a matter of having something on the table to eat.
After a quick breakfast, we went off to the tapasan area where the obreros had been working. From where my batch mates and I had spent the night, it took us 30 minutes of hiking before arriving to the place. With a lending a hand in mind, we stumbled upon a group of men who were drenched under the scorching heat of the sun. Yet, they seemed tireless, working on a half-hectare sugar cane plantation with espadings (a cutting tool resembling a Bolo) held firmly on their fists. The scene, only pausing for lunch breaks at noontime, would last until late afternoon. It’s hard to believe that by the end of the day, these people would only earn 90 to 100 pesos—way below the supposed standard minimum wage of every Filipino.
They say truth can be hurtful at times. Something is meaningfully true only to those who experienced why it is so. I remember having some little knowledge about Sakada workers in my high school days. I knew of them through magazines and movies. At that time, I felt pity on them being in subhuman conditions. But nothing compares having been exposed to their situation in real life. When I was there, just a few minutes after having started harvesting sugar canes myself, tears fell down from my eyes. Their work, their burden, their life, after having experienced it myself, proved to be too much to take. It’s hard to imagine that many Filipinos have to live with this kind of situation. It’s quite ironic. Those who harvest the sweetest of grains the earth soil ever produces, are those who live the bitterest of lives.
For four days, we postulants lived with the Sakada workers and their families. The place was in Brgy. Sta. Rosa, around 5 kilometers away from Murcia, Negros Occidental.

Crossroads

2009-11-11T07:59:00.000-08:00

Becoming aware of the many possibilities regarding one's life can be quite baffling. Life is a choice. One's course in life depends greatly on the choices that one makes. Decisions, most especially those that matter can alter one's fate in an instant. Perhaps that's one of the reasons why counselors would often advice me not to make any abrupt decisions when at the height of my emotions. Quite rightly so. One should think twice when making any big decision about one's own life. The consequences and repercussions of a choice might just be overwhelming if one has not been prudent.
I'm at crossroads right now. Life is offering me wonderful possibilities that I could realize. As to what that might be falls unto the palm of my hand. Yet, I have not made any decision yet. I'm undecided. Presently, i could not still figure out what to choose. Noviciate or Extended Postulancy? Both are promising. But I have to choose only one.
Yet somehow, it dawned on me that this crossroads is not a mere matter of choice. I should not forget to acknowledge the Superior power that emanates through the cosmos and to the whole of my being. The possibilities that lay ahead does not fall entirely into my hands. The path, way of life, decision that I'll be making is not just a matter of choice, but a matter of discernment as well. This choice should be coupled with prayer. This is a way of believing in Providence. After all, it is God who knows what's best for me.

2009-10-12T07:13:00.000-07:00

"WHY?" Why does it have to be always me? Why is life like this? Why is it that the most difficult questions on earth begin with a "Why?" Why???
Indeed, man has the inherent desire to know: one good reason why one keeps asking the "why" questions.
A phenomenon has kept recurring recently these days. In every beginning of my exposures in the mission areas, something bad happens. Talking about my health, last month i suffered from skin asthma. The next week after that my gums were swollen because of a wisdom tooth wanting to come out. And just last week, i stepped on a nail which caused me a painful injection of anti-tetanus and some more medication. All of these happened while i was on the missions. Many a times, i would ask God "Why?" Are these all signs? It really bothers me up until now, i'm still struggling with missionary work.
Yet i think its good though that one never stops asking "why?" "Why" questions demand deep thinking and reflection. And when one begins to ask "why" and pursues to find its answer, he/she embarks on an inward journey that will surely reveal a lot of truth-discoveries not just about himself but of the world around him as well.
For the past few weeks, I've been asking a lot of Why questions. And my inquiring mind has led me to a state of deep reflection and the endeavor of being in touch with my true self. I have been purifying my intentions why i am doing missionary work. I'm constantly pondering why i want become a Redemptorist priest someday. And experience tells me that I am on a journey which solely revolves around the goal of knowing myself. Up until now, this sailing forth has brought about revelations about myself which would either be hurtful or wonderful, or even both. I say it's a sojourn worth pursuing.

Don't stop asking why, and never cease to pursue its answer... you might just know yourself more.

THe Devil's Beatitudes

2009-08-17T06:00:00.000-07:00

We have Christ's beattitudes (instructions for a happy life), but there's another set of beautitudes, curiously from the Devil. Read and check if you might be living them rather than Jesus Christ's standards of living a happy life.

"Blessed are those who are too tired, too busy, too distracted to spend an hour once a week with their fellow Christians in the Church." THEY ARE MY BEST WORKERS

"Blessed are those Christians who wait to be asked and expect to be thanked." I CAN USE THEM.

"Blessed are the touchy, with a bit of luck they may stop going to church." THEY ARE MY MISSIONARIES.

"Blessed are those who are very religious but get on everyone's nerves." THEY ARE MINE FOREVER.

"Blessed are the troublemakers." THEY SHALL BE CALLED MY CHILDREN

"Blessed are those who have no time to pray." THEY ARE EASY PREY FOR ME.

"Blessed are the gossipers." FOR THEY ARE MY SECRET AGENTS.

"Blessed are those critical of church leadership." FOR THEY SHALL INHERIT A PLACE WITH ME IN MY KINGDOM.

"Blessed are the complainers." I'M ALL EARS FOR THEM.

"Blessed are you when you read this and think it is about other people and not yourself." I'VE GOT YOU!

Banana

2009-07-17T09:24:00.000-07:00

Master Oogway, the wise turtle in the animated movie “Kung Fu Panda” once said, “Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery. But, today is a gift. That is why it is called present.” I guess that kind of wisdom best describes our journey to postulancy as of this time. We live each day one moment at a time. Each day brings experiences which vary from being familiar, dull, exciting, challenging, novel to being funny. Each experience is significant since it is part and parcel of a wonderful journey of formation.
We ended the month of June with a bang as the Jubilee anniversary was celebrated here in Dumaguete. The three of us, after having just finished our short-lived mission exposure in the parish areas were again busy for the grand fiesta celebration. One notable project we had was a mural painting which was to be used as backdrop both for the variety show the night before the feast, and as a part of the decoration during lunch on the very feast day. We had sleepless nights just to finish that project since it was given to us only a week prior to the fiesta. If collegians are having the thought that in postulancy, gone are the days of working until the wee hours, they better think again. The library in the monastery which served as our workplace looked as if it were struck by the bagyong Feria, signal no. 4! Anyhow with utter perseverance and dedication, we finished our Obra Maestra just in the nick of time. That experience gave us lots of lessons about teamwork, patience and commitment. It also strengthened the working dynamics of the batch as we poured out our talents and skills, each contributing for the success of the project.
Our involvement in the Jubilee anniversary celebration didn’t just end there. We also had assignments at the variety show which showcased the talents of many parishioners and people from the area. During that night, we had a discovery about the Dumagueteños: Their very, and I mean very, enthusiastic about healing. Here’s how we came to know that:
That night, the talents being showcased were becoming monotonous. For some reason, most were dance numbers with music that could only either be Jaiho (by the Pussycat dolls) and Poker face (by Lady gaga.) It was obvious that many were becoming bored already most especially the aged people. Others were leaving while others were just waiting for their turn to present and soon they would be off as well. One of our tasks was to animate the audience by teaching them the Banana dance. (If you have no idea about that icebreaker, better consult the SACFH collegians who are fond of doing this dance.) Anyway, it dawned on us that in order for the people to be participative about the activity, we had to disguise it to something that would have an appeal to them. Bombit and I thought that they would surely cooperate if we’ll say that the activity was about healing. And we were so right. After announcing that it was a healing activity, the audience ran closer to the stage. Just imagine, even the nanays who were at the gate of the church, clearly about to leave, came back. I said to them, “Tonight, we will call on the Espiritu sa Kaayo for us to be healed.” Of course, I really didn’t mean that since obviously neither my companion nor I had the gift of healing. To even impress the audience more, we had the special participation of Fr. John Michael Salatandol, C.Ss.R. who served as the mananabtan, invoking the Espiritu or whatever that is. With Gregorian music, Fr. John slowly danced with moves I could not understand. I was already trying hard not to burst into laughter. But the people bought that, imitating every move of the mananabtan, I mean Fr. John. Judging from the looks of their faces, the people were falling for the activity. Suddenly, Peter Paul grabbed the mike and sang with a very high-pitched tone, “Ba…na…na…” The people were shocked. Their jaws dropped. But they had no choice. It was too late for them to realize that it was a prank. And so we sang, “peel banana, peel peel banana… chop banana, chop, chop banana…” Along with the thumping beat of the drums, what the people could only do was to dance with us. All burst into laughter since they were all victimized by our simple prank.
The people thought it was healing, but were stunned finding out that it was a prank. As for me, I still thought that it was healing. Only that it was of a different sort—the kind of healing brought about by laughter, joy and happiness.

Remeniscing the recent past....

2009-07-06T06:21:00.000-07:00

I am indebted to a lot of people... those who have become part and parcel of my life journey...
without them, I would not be what I am today...

I was teary-eyed when I graduated college, moved by the very thought that a lot of persons walked and climbed with me through the different mountains...

Here's my graduation speech on that unforgettable night when i had the chance to say thanks to all who have touched my life...

"We have finally come to this momentous day of our graduation. Years of seemingly countless academic endeavors have not only taught us the values of hardwork, dedication, patience and perseverance, but have made us grow to become better human persons. Indeed, today marks the culmination of our college years. Yet the journey has not come to an end. The dawn of a new beginning awaits each of us. Tomorrow, we shall face the challenges of life with ever more inspired and passionate minds and hearts, inculcated with profound learnings, values and insights.

Yet what sets us apart from typical college students of our time is not merely the intellectual or academic training we have received from this institute. More significant is the holistic religious formation that has created in us transformed and integrally developed beautiful persons. We have emerged victorious and successful because we strove not just with our own bare hands, but we labored with the grace and guidance of God’s loving hands. All of our pursuits would have been in vain if it were not for Him. In our venture, we have not just learned and understood, but we have also prayed and believed. Our faith in Him has made us realize our dreams.

We are graduates not merely of a Philosophy degree, but we are graduates of a precious college seminary formation as well. We owe the human values and the various lessons of life we now possess to God, the source of all wisdom, and to the many instruments he has sent: our formators, spiritual directors, professors, families and all who have unrelentingly shared their gift of person, empowering and inspiring us to continue and to soar high in our sojourn.

I remember once asking God, “Why was I born?” and “What is the meaning of life?” He answered by telling me that life has a purpose and mission to fulfill. Even beyond this is the deeply touching truth that God is calling me to love because He loves no matter what, and he has loved me since the very day I was born. My fellow brothers, the same is true in your unique lives. Let us not be shaken by our doubts and fears. The scriptures say, “God does not call those who are equipped, but he equips those whom he has called.” Though many people and even we may not truly understand the deep mystery of our calling, we nevertheless sail forth without knowing what lies ahead, only knowing that, in our hearts lies our faith and trust in Him.

Today we celebrate the gift of our vocation and we give our heartfelt and utmost thanks to the Lord who calls and sends holy apostles to His Church!

For the many persons who have become part and parcel of our life-mission, we seminarians extend our sincerest gratitude!

To my fellow brothers, Padayon! Let us continue to be the bearers of the light of Jesus which touches, transforms and redeems the lives of His people."

who am I?

2009-07-05T11:16:00.000-07:00

Perhaps it would be nice to begin this blog with a little introduction about myself.
My name is Niel. I hail from Davao, Philippines and is currently a Postulant seminarian of the Redemptorist congregation. Yes! I aspire to be a priest someday, and each day that dream seem to be becoming more and more real. I am the type of person who loves to do a lot of adventures... travel, meet new people and establish new acquaintances, eat and explore, eat and run... eat and sleep... and do a lot of praying.

I see life as colorful, filled with vibrant colors. In my hand lies a brush through which I paint my life with different human strokes. But the mural I'm working on is not yet done. Its upshot is still a mystery. Somehow, I sense that it is not solely I who's painting the mural of my life.

I love art. Art was my first love. Then came music. It was the second best thing besides art. Then I realized that they could be coupled. That's when magic came.

I believe that life is purpose-driven. Each has his/her mission to fulfill. In a sense, we are missionaries or pilgrims. As for me, I own the mission of being good. Sounds simple but quite complicated and challenging in reality.

I believe that best way to know a person is the way he leads his/her life. Each person is a mystery. Yet each human being has the capability of radiating his/her inner beauty depending on his/her choice.

I have the traits of being serious, reflective, jolly, cheerful, crazy, witty, moody, enthusiastic, loving, frank,.. all rolled into one. That's me.

I think that will be it for now. I've been up until wee hours for many days now. My body needs to doze off after having a heavy day.