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| Vol. XX No. 47 |
January 31, 2001 |
Virac, Catanduanes |
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The Catanduanes Tribune Rawis, Virac Catanduanes, Philippines - 5001 Tel. No.: (052) 811-1267 or 811-2640 Fax No.: (052) 811-1267 E-mail:
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Publisher-Editor Edwin A. Gianan |
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Advertising- Circulation Manager Simeon G. Cueno |
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Web Master: Calgary, Canada |
Other Concerns
by the Cathedral Clergy
Burned to be reborn
Few days after I met an accident, Fr. Paul spoke about me in this corner. ( Remember the priest who got burned?) It’s three weeks now since it happened, and I have almost completely recuperated. My seven-day stay in the hospital yielded profound reflections which, much as I wanted them to fill my journal book, risked fading as my most affected right arm then found it hard to capture the freshness of my experience. Now my right hand is returning to normal. With joy, I don’t stay satisfied just making notes on my journal that I even take the opportunity, but humbly, to share to our parishioners at least, how God worked in my life.
Such was the most painful physical injury that I ever consciously met in my life. So intense that I could hardly breathe; but so excruciating that I experienced the meaning of suffering, that I encountered Christ is His passion.
Moment after moment, I could only cry out “God!” or “Jesus!” How else need I go through it than allow the Lord to take over me and make my suffering redemptive, i.e., saving me, not of course from pain but from sin. How could I also fail to remember the then critical situation of the country? Deep inside me, I mused, “Lord, I offer this for the impeachment trial.” “I join all the sick in distress.” “Dispose of the value of this suffering, O Lord, if there is, to anything you wish.” Believe me, but it was a grace that I could still make such musing in the midst of great pain.
I am convinced that God also works in signs. A lot of signs conspired to let me see God’s message and plan for me. First, it happened on the feast of Black Nazarene, in fact, after I celebrated Mass at the Nazareno chapel. All about sharing in Christ’s suffering was my point. But do I need to get blackened for me to experience its truth? Second, my face and arms came up in blisters. Thing that made me recall from the Book of Ecclesiastes: “Vanity of vanities; all is vanity!” More so, it led me to St. Paul’s words: “We are born of the spirit. Let us live therefore not according to the flesh but according to the spirit.” Third, my wounds were covered with placenta membrane. Luckily, a Ceasarian baby was born on my second day. It took a new life for healing to come about. Death in the evening, resurrection in the morning. Fourth, visitors came to comfort me. I said, “Ah, the love of God has been poured into my heart!”
While in deep search for meaning and longing for God’s presence, temptation nevertheless haunted me with its deceiving force. It was irresistible to recreate in mind the incident and rob it of its guilt. Guilt that says: “You ought to have done something other than what you did.” To worry about the near future had been equally inescapable. Worry that filled my dark moments with “what ifs.” “What if they found out it was all my fault?” “What if I have my face and arms deformed?” Yes, there was that temptation for me to flee the reality and the present.
This and still others I saw as the enemy’s tactics to divert my attention from the elements of conversion present in my tragic fate. I discerned a stark movement pressing me down to lurk in my misery and mourn early over a feared loss of my place in the ministry. The devil enticed me to claim a supposed important role I take in the Diocese; as if the world cannot go on its round without me. Horrible! Had I submitted, it would have been more tragic and miserable a lot. Thanks to Moses, Jacob, Job and Paul, men of weakness and infirmities, they reminded me that in my frailty God is mighty. To my mind, I may lose all things I can boast of, but let one thing be left – the cross of Christ.
The Black Nazarene, the image of the Lord’s passion, how can I fail to recount with it that Christ was consumed by the fire of God’s love, he died that I may live!
