My sharing in this morning’s Handbook Study at the Tower of Ivory Praesidium Meeting. Ch. 39 Item 40 on page 307, “Go preach the Gospel to the whole creation”
From His humble nativity (where the world witnessed the abject, stark, unparalleled poverty of the King and Lord) to His horrible passion and death, and heavenward resurrection), Jesus did not aspire for anything for Himself. Even before He left the earth for good, His heart was for the whole of creation, which was why He rained the Holy Spirit down on earth. What was created out of love by the Father, the Son made sure won’t go to waste. He was, after all, incarnated by that same love.
I claim no cheering for what I’ve been doing since I became a Legionary in 2009. It didn’t occur to me that that event would lead to a more significant appointment, the Totus Tuus Journey, initially, and the truly manifest marvel of Mary, AMQAH. My consecration to both spiritualities, followed further by commitments to her just and equally immaculate spouse Joseph (for whom I’m currently going through a 44-day psychological preparation and education), convince me that evangelization is a mission I was ordained to pursue (as if the Gel/Geli in the word didn’t just happen to be glued right smack in its gut).
I don’t believe either that my columns on filcatholic.org was an accident. Voluntary, they compensate me with integrity. And serve as catalysts for my daily fb scripturals, which I share with one community too many. (if I may hasten to add that filcatholic.org is an online Claretian publication which reaches worlwide readership.)
My humble joy springs from my fellow church servants in San Jose ang Tagapagtanggol Parish, whose appreciation affirms the reward that my bible verses are being read and, therefore, spread. The grassroots are where the seeds are beneficially intended to establish, grow, and flourish. What the poor lack in law, they achieve, at least, in life from the Spirit. I find in them, besides, a kindred poverty, making one of my three vows already accomplished. My sabbatical from proclaiming the Word ends this month. Therefore, the glorious roses I’ve fingered with blue soldiers, and Montfortian associates, and church colleagues warmly welcome me already. What immeasurably immense pleasure to be treated as long-lost family.
Back to altar duty, I can’t wait to reunite with the discipline and decorum of an edifier of the Eucharist. Inculcating in my conduct, once again, cause to invite their interest in the source and summit of our faith. Perchance to possibly squeeze in the other identity I represent, originally that of a child of God and Mary (and Joseph, spiritually), and bearer of the banner of the Blue Army.
May I add finally that my presence in the liturgical celebration denies observation. My goal is to proclaim, not fame. That my voice needed a body is the lamest excuse I can offer for my visibility. I subscribe to St. Francis de Sales’ apparent exhortation that, sometimes, it is not hypocrisy to speak better than act. In the case of the altar apostleship, God, I think, gave me the green light to not remain silent, so long as I make the minimum of movement.
Amen.
