Homily for Wednesday of the Fourth Week of Easter 06 May 2020, John 12:44-50
An apostle is ONE WHO IS SENT. We usually think of an apostle as one sent by Jesus, or those sent by the Holy Spirit, like Barnabas and Saul in our first reading—who are sent by the Church at Antioch. But we forget that Jesus also speaks of himself as an “apostle”—one who has been sent by the Father. In today’s Gospel, he says “Whoever sees me sees the one who sent me.”
I know that in the Catholic Church, we bishops are called the “successors of the apostles.” There is something both good and not so good about this title. On the one hand, it keeps us conscious of the need for continuity of the Christian faith from its foundation in the apostles, (which is good). But one the other hand—there is the not-so-good consequence that most other Christians never graduate from being mere disciples, in the sense of followers, into being true members of an “apostolic Church”.
I think we bishops can only claim success as successors of the apostles, if we are able to make sure that most, if not all of those who have been baptized into Christ, are able to grow from disciples to apostles. Christianity is not just about being a follower, even if it does indeed begin there. There is no sense in being a disciple if you do not grow into a fellow apostle as well. Meaning—a participant in the saving mission of Jesus, our apostle par excellence.
I hope you were able to watch the psycho-spiritual health forum where I guested yesterday. The program was live-streamed at 5-7pm of May 5, by PETA’s Lusog-Isip. It was a wonderful conversation with PETA facilitator Mae Medina and fellow guests, Cardiologist Dr. Erric Cinco and Psychiatrist Dr. Mel Batar, and beautifully synthesized by renowned psychiatrist, Dr. June Lopez.
One of the points highlighted by Dr. June in our conversation was the importance—for the mental health of our frontliners—of a sense of mission and purpose, especially in this rather stressful time of the pandemic crisis. It cannot be “trabaho lang, walang personalan.” None of them would last without a sense of personal commitment to what they are doing, not just as a good-paying job or a profession, but as a vocation and mission, if I may use our religious jargon.
We have heard many stories of health workers, especially of doctors and nurses, who feel that they have been stretched beyond their limits; that, like all other human beings, they cannot pretend to be superheroes or martyrs. They also snap or break down every now and then. They also feel like giving up or walking out or calling it plain madness, marching into battle like Don Quixotes fighting a windmill or like suicidal warriors who are not even equipped with the proper battle gears.
But when asked what has kept them going in spite of all the odds and challenges, their common answer shifts from the professional to the spiritual—a sense of mission and purpose. They speak about the need to search deep within themselves during the little pauses in between their battles, for the meaning of it all—ang kahulugan o kabuluhan, ang layunin at pinaglalaanan. What could be worse than suffering itself, as to engage in a meaningless, pointless, useless endeavor? Most of them say it is that sense of mission that helps them recover a sense of inner peace and equanimity.
This goes with the awareness that I do what I was called to do. I do it because I followed a calling, a vocation, and I need to remain attentive to the One who called me to this work, God, whom I seek out in prayer.
Jesus says in the Gospel, “My mission is not to condemn but to save.” Not everything in our conversations was aired on livestream, by the way. A lot of other things were said before and after the program. One of the things that struck me deeply among the issues that did not come out on air was the horrifying situation that was experienced by nurses and doctors in Italy, Spain and in New York—namely, having to decide whom to let go of, and whom to save. Between a younger and an elderly patient who are both in need of a ventilator, whom do I save? The very thought of having to make the decision was terrifying for them.
But there was one thing—in the midst of the challenging task of saving others that did not seem to figure too prominently in our conversation: what about saving myself? If not for my sake, at least for my family and my loved ones? The fact that it was secondary to their concerns made me feel nothing but deep admiration for these people’s sense of mission.
One of the movies that I found circulating on Youtube recently was The Mission. It was one of the few movies that had a tremendous impact on me in my younger years as a priest. The lead role was played of the Jesuit missionary Father Gabriel, was played by Jeremy Irons, who, in the opening scene, dared to climb a rocky cliff and go against the current of the waterfalls to be able to reach a tribe of Guarani natives. On reaching the top, even in his nervousness, he played the haunting music that tamed the hearts of these warlike natives. On the other hand, there was the role played by Robert De Niro—a slave trader named Rodrigo Mendoza who had committed a crime of passion and killed his own brother who had fallen in love with his girlfriend, and wallowed in guilt thereafter. To make an act of penance, he climbed the same cliff, dragging in a net all the weapons of war he had used against the natives. No one could end his impossible act of penance, except the natives themselves who cut off the ropes on his shoulder and finally released him from his burden, paving the way to his entry into the Jesuit order. The film ends with the Missionaries, led by Father Gabriel, being killed as holds the Blessed Sacrament like a spiritual weapon against the conquistadors who try to suppress their Mission. It is tragic, but the sense of a mission accomplished gives you a sense of victory in the end.
I wish to end by asking: have you grown from disciple to fellow apostle? How are you participating in the Mission of our Savior and Redeemer in this time of pandemic? Or are you still dragging your life uphill like a heavy burden? If you are, I wouldn’t mind playing the tribesman’s role of cutting the ropes that will truly liberate you to take part in THE MISSION.
