Confessional Box*

When we think about the confessional, we often picture two small, intimate spaces divided by a simple screen—a physical representation of a profound spiritual reality. From one confessional box to another, we encounter a sacred dialogue between the penitent and the priest, a moment steeped in grace and transformation. This perspective serves as a powerful reminder that every day offers us the opportunity to seek forgiveness and, in turn, to experience the fullness of God's mercy.

In our fast-paced lives, it can be all too easy to overlook this divine gift. We may carry the weight of our shortcomings, mistakes, and regrets, believing that we must bear them alone. However, the confessional stands as a beacon of hope, inviting us to let go of our burdens and embrace the healing power of repentance. The Lord is always there, patiently waiting for us to come forward and acknowledge our need for forgiveness. His love is not contingent upon our perfection; rather, it is in our imperfection that we find His grace most profoundly.

If we could just open our eyes and hearts to this truth, we would realize that God’s mercy is not confined to the walls of the confessional. It permeates our lives, offering us solace in moments of sorrow, strength in times of weakness, and joy in the simplest acts of love. Every encounter we have, every breath we take, can be infused with the awareness of God’s unwavering presence. It invites us to experience His mercy anytime, anywhere.

This realization can transform our perspective on daily challenges and interactions. When we approach our fellow beings with a heart open to forgiveness, we begin to reflect the very mercy we receive from God. Each moment becomes an opportunity to extend grace to others, to seek reconciliation in our relationships, and to embody the love of Christ in a world that desperately needs it.

Moreover, this perspective encourages us to cultivate a habit of reflection and humility. When we take the time to examine our lives, acknowledge our faults, and seek to improve, we not only honor our relationship with God but also grow in our capacity to forgive ourselves and others. This cycle of forgiveness enriches our spiritual journey and deepens our connection with the divine.

In essence, the view from one confessional box to another serves as a powerful reminder of the ongoing opportunity we have to ask for and receive forgiveness. It encourages us to open our eyes and hearts to the transformative power of God’s mercy, allowing it to flow through us and into the lives of those around us. As we embrace this gift, we become not just recipients of grace but instruments of it, carrying the message of God’s love into a world longing for healing and hope.

The Door

This door, that is about ten lbs. when you push it, leads the seminarians to the Lord everyday. It is always kept closed so that the seminarians can pray solemnly but it is never locked.

Always kept closed in obedience to the directive of the Fr. Rector but never closed for the Chapel is always open to those who are willing to submit themselves wholeheartedly to God amidst all difficulties.

Holy Hugot

The original meaning of the word “hugot” is to draw or to pull out. Its use in social media as “#hugot” became popular and is usually associated with song lyrics, a quote, etc. that the person tweeting can relate to. "Hugot" connotes a potentially and personally deep sentimental or emotional undertones. Because feelings come from "deep within" so one may have pulled it out ("hugot") and actually blurt them out in an emotional fashion, subconsciously or otherwise.

The Liturgy of the Hours (often referred to as the Breviary) is the official set of prayers marking the hours of each day and sanctifying the day with prayer. It consists primarily of psalms supplemented by hymns, readings and other prayers and antiphons. Together with the Mass, it constitutes the official public prayer life of the Church. 

Come to think of it, these psalms are the "hugot" of the psalmists. There are psalms of grief, of joy, of anguish, of praise, of thanksgiving and basically all emotions. Sometimes, when we pray the Liturgy of the Hours, our personal "hugot" jives with the psalmist.

Abortion Graffiti*

On May 29, 2017, a priest in Italy discovered something terrible: someone had sprayed blasphemous pro-abortion graffiti on his church. The graffiti read: “Free abortion (also for Mary).” The reference to Mary appears to be a blasphemous reference to the Mother of God.

In response, the priest Fr. Andrea wrote an open letter to the vandals on Facebook that has been going viral.

Dear anonymous wall-writer,

I’m sorry you couldn’t take an example from your mother. She had courage. She conceived you, carried on the pregnancy and gave birth to you. She could have aborted you. But she didn’t. She raised you, fed you, washed you, and dressed you. And now you have a life and freedom. A freedom you’re using to tell us that it would be better if people like you weren’t supposed to be in this world.

I’m sorry, but I disagree. And I really admire your mom because she was brave. And she still is, because, like every mom, she’s proud of you, even if you’re acting badly, because she knows that there’s still good inside you.

Abortion makes nonsense of everything. Death wins against life. Abortion is letting fear control a heart that normally wants to fight and live, not die. It is choosing who has the right to live and who does not, as if it were a simple right. It’s an ideology that takes away all hope. You obviously have no courage. Since you’re anonymous.

And while we’re at it, I’d also like to tell you that our neighborhood has already experienced a lot of problems, and we don’t need people to vandalize the walls and ruin the little beauty we have left.

You want to prove yourself brave? Then improve the world instead of destroying it. Give love instead of hate. Help those in suffering to endure their sorrows. And give life instead of taking it! This is real bravery!

Luckily our neighborhood, which you destroy, is full of brave people! Who can love you too, you who don’t even know what you write!

Signed,

Fr. Andrea

__________________

ORIGINAL TEXT:

Caro scrittore anonimo di muri,

Mi dispiace che tu non abbia saputo prendere esempio da tua madre. Lei ha avuto coraggio. Ti ha concepito, ha portato avanti la gravidanza e ti ha partorito. Poteva abortirti. Ma non l’ha fatto. Ti ha allevato, ti ha nutrito, ti ha lavato e ti ha vestito. E ora hai una vita e una libertà. Una libertà che stai usando per dirci che sarebbe meglio che anche persone come te non ci dovrebbero essere a questo mondo. 

Mi dispiace ma non sono d’accordo. E ammiro molto tua mamma perché lei è stata coraggiosa. E lo è tutt’ora, perché, come ogni mamma, è orgogliosa di te, anche se ti comporti male, perché sa che dentro di te c’è del buono che deve solo riuscire a venire fuori. 

L’aborto è il “non senso” di ogni cosa. È la morte che vince contro la vita. È la paura che vince su un cuore che invece vuole combattere e vivere, non morire. È scegliere chi ha diritto di vivere e chi no, come se fosse un diritto semplice. É un’ideologia che vince su un’umanità a cui si vuole togliere la speranza. Ogni speranza. 

Io ammiro tutte quelle donne che pur tra mille difficoltà hanno il coraggio di andare avanti. Tu evidentemente di coraggio non ne hai. Visto che sei anonimo. E già che ci siamo vorrei anche dirti che il nostro quartiere è già provato tanti problemi e non abbiamo bisogno di gente che imbratta i muri e che rovina il poco di bello che ci è rimasto. 

Vuoi dimostrare di essere coraggioso? Migliora il mondo invece di distruggerlo. Ama invece di odiare. Aiuta chi è nella sofferenza a sopportare le sue pene. E dai la vita, invece di toglierla! Questi sono i veri coraggiosi! 

Per fortuna il nostro quartiere, che tu distruggi, è pieno di gente coraggiosa! Che sa amare anche te, che non sai neanche quello che scrivi! 

Io mi firmo:

don Andrea Andre

Withered Hand*

The Congregation for the Clergy has issued an updated instrument for the formation of priests entitled Ratio Fundamentalis Institutionis Sacerdotalis or ‘The Gift of Priestly Vocation’. In an interview with the Prefect of the said Congregation, His Eminence Beniamino Cardinal Stella stated that "The last Ratio Fundamentalis dates back to 1970, even though it was updated in 1985. In the meantime, the historical, socio-cultural and ecclesiastical contexts have changed, above all due to the effects of the rapid evolution to which the world is subjected nowadays." The updated Ratio was promulgated on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, 8 December 2016.

The Gift of Priestly Vocation, placed by God in the hearts of some men, obliges the Church to propose to them a serious journey of formation,” the opening line of the document reads. It is meant to provide guidelines for the formation of priests, which “needed to be revamped, renewed, and restored to the center.” Along the way of priestly formation, reinforcements are needed in order to persevere. The Lord reaches His hand towards us and we must stretch out our hands towards Him in return so that we may stretch our hands to others as well.

Our Lord Jesus Christ went into the synagogue on a Sabbath and healed a man with a withered hand under the watchful eyes of the Pharisees and the teachers of the law (cf. Mt 12:9-13, Mk 3:1-6, and Lk 6:6-11). Then He said to the man, "Stretch out your hand." So he stretched it out and it was completely restored. We encounter a man in this passage, who could neither receive nor offer because his hand was withered. It means that his hand became dry and deprived of life, stiff and unable to move, and shrunken down in size that it cannot be extended to help others. Although his situation was not life-threatening, it limited him. A withered hand represents the inability to reach out and take hold of what is before us.

What is our withered hand that renders us dry, stiff and atrophied in our vocation? Is it our sense of inferiority? Is it a painful past that freezes our vision of the future? Is our withered hand the negative words implanted in our mind that crush our self-esteem? It could be our academic limitations, physical struggles, or lack of time management. It might be the lack of self-confidence, spiritual dryness, or our sinfulness. There may be something in our life that is limiting us from being whole, productive, or from enjoying the blessings of life. Whatever is our withered hand in life, Jesus commands us, "Stretch out your hand." Be restored and made whole. This updated Ratio, more than anything, will guide the formandi to go beyond their limitations and stretch out their hands.

In the Philippines, we have an exceptional custom called mano po to manifest our respect by kissing the hands or putting the hands of the elderly on our foreheads. In mano po, we stretch out our hand to others and humbly ask for blessing, and the blessing is imparted with these words: Kaawaan ka ng Diyos (May God have mercy on you). For us Filipinos, to be blessed is to receive mercy; and it all started when we do our part, when we stretch out our hand, and go beyond our limitations in life.

In Kapampangan, it’s is not only mercy that is imparted by the elders but God Himself. So when one asks for the hand and say “manu pu”… the elders will respond with not just “Kaawaan ka ng Diyos” but “Dis pu” meaning “May God bless you.” Literally, to impart blessing is not just to give mercy but to give the Source of Mercy, who is God Himself.

The Gift of Vocation is received when we stretch out our withered hand in total dependence on God, when we stretched out our hands to humbly ask for mercy in order to be restored and made whole. The grace of our vocation overflows when we stretch out our hand towards God who first loved us (cf. 1 Jn 4:10) and towards the people whom we shall minister.

So Near yet So Far

Little Diomede Island (USA)

Little Diomede Island (2.8 square miles) of the United States of America retains a permanent native Eskimo population unlike the Big Diomede Island (11 square miles), which is part of Russia. Though only less than 2.4 miles (3.9 kilometers) apart, these islands are not only separated by political jurisdiction but are also separated by the International Date Line. They are near each other yet they have a 24-hour difference.

This reminds me of the mercy of God. Every opportunity to be close to God has been given to us... yet, oftentimes, we choose to move far away. God is always with us. "If we are unfaithful, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself" (2 Tm 2:10-13). We are sinful, yet God is merciful.