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The Baptism of the Lord

January 13, 2019

Luke 3:15-16, 21-22

 

“You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Lk. 3:22)

 

One of the greatest joys of being a deacon is to baptize babies and little children. The joy is not simply springing from touching the cheeks of a cute little baby or be part of festive parents, but it is something deeper. In fact, my experiences with baptism are not always pleasant. I remember at my first baptism in Sto. Domingo Parish, Metro Manila, when I began pouring water upon the baby’s forehead, the little girl suddenly burst in tears and cried aloud. I realized the water has touched the baby girl’s eyes. I was shocked and almost paralyzed not knowing what to do next. The good thing is the parents were able to handle the situation well. As the little baby calmed down, I apologized and continued the rite. Traumatizing!

After that experience, the baptisms I minister do not seem to be any better. In Manaoag, Pangasinan, I could baptize 15 or more babies in each baptism. Often, with so many people jampacked in a small room, and with many babies crying, the experience, far from happy, could be stressful and forgettable for everyone including myself. So, where do I get the joy of baptizing babies?

It is springing from the Church’s understanding of baptism itself. Baptism as the sacrament instituted by Christ Himself as a means for us to receive the grace of salvation is not only Biblical and upheld by earliest Christian testimonies, but it is spiritually liberating and joy-engendering. Surely, we need one semester or more to discuss the biblical foundation and theology of baptism, and this is not the place for such discussion. Thus, allow me to share one of the reasons why baptizing is one of my most joyous moments as a deacon, and it is not far from our Gospel today.

Today we are celebrating the Baptism of the Lord, and our Gospel ends with an extremely rare revelation of God the Father in Jesus’ life. This reveals two things: First, Jesus is the Son of the Father; second, He is not only any son, but Jesus is also the joy of the Father. It is not just any rare revelation, but it is a revelation of joy. Yet, this joy is not surprising for it is natural for a father to be delighted in his newly born baby because he sees the best of himself in the baby. It is a joy of fatherhood.

One of the greatest gifts of baptism is our spiritual generation. It is true that in baptism, nothing much changes in our physical aspects, except our heads are getting wet. But, when the water of baptism touches our foreheads and the Trinitarian formula is pronounced, our souls are changed for eternity. We are not just the children of humanity, but wonderfully the children of God. And as we emerge from the baptism, our Father in heaven sees us, recognizes us as His own and says, “You are my beloved children, with you I am well pleased.”

It is my greatest privilege to share this spiritual fatherhood. As I minister baptism, I spiritually beget these little babies as my children, the children of God. As a young father rejoices in his baby, so I take delight in every newly spiritually born baby. I do not have my own children, and yet I am blessed to become a father. As looking forward to priestly understand, we understand why we call a priest “father” because he is indeed a father to his spiritual children. He begets his children in Baptism, he nourishes them in Eucharist, he leads the youth into maturity in Confirmation, he unites the love among them in Marriage, he brings back the stray in Penance, and he heals the sick in the Anointing. It is the joy of fatherhood.

 

Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

The Feast of the Holy Family

December 30, 2018

Luke 2:41-52

 

We are celebrating the feast of the Holy Family of Nazareth, the feast day of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The last event in the Bible that presents the Homily Family is the Finding of the Child Jesus in the Temple. After this event, Joseph no longer appeared in the Bible, and according to the tradition, he passed away even before he was able to see Jesus in His public ministry. Since this is the last episode where Joseph gets involved in the narrative, we shall reflect more about him.

 

In today’s Gospel, we discover a seemingly a fatal mistake of Joseph and Mary. They allow the child Jesus to be lost! That was careless! Yet, are Joseph and Mary really careless? Looking deeper into their context, it is not really the case. When Joseph and Mary go to Jerusalem for the festival of Passover, they do not go by themselves, but with other relatives and neighbors from Nazareth. Traveling together may slow them down, but it gives protection from robbers and avoids the food shortage. The responsibility of taking care of the children are also shared among the adults. After all, Jesus is twelve years old and big enough to take care of younger members of the group. Surely, it is not carelessness, but the trust is given to Jesus that allows Jesus to stay behind in Jerusalem. As dedicated parents, Joseph and Mary are looking for Jesus anxiously. To look for a boy in the capital city Jerusalem is just like finding a needle in the mount of straw, but, miraculously, they are able to find Him: Jesus is in the midst of teachers of the Jewish Laws, discussing and answering them with eloquence.

 

When Mary asks Jesus why he is missing, Jesus’ answer is mind-boggling, “Did you not know that I must be in my Father’s house?” (Lk. 2:41) Mary does not understand with the answer, and she is pondering all these things in her heart. But, how about Joseph, the foster father of Jesus? What will be his reaction and feeling when he hears, “… I must be in my Father’s house?” Will Joseph punish Jesus for disrespect to him and Mary? Will he get furious after Jesus goes away without permission? Will Joseph disown Jesus after Jesus seemingly refuse to call him as a father?

 

Though it is hard to determine because Joseph is a silent man, I do believe Joseph will not do these violent things because he is a peaceful person. When Joseph knew Mary was pregnant out of wedlock, he could have thrown the first stone. Yet, he chose mercy and spared Mary from vengeance. As he was merciful to Mary, so he will be merciful to Jesus. Yet, there is something more. Beyond these initial reactions, I believe that Joseph is grateful and proud of Jesus. And why should he be thankful and proud? We recall that Joseph is described as the righteous man or in original Greek, “diatheke”. He is righteous not only because he knows well the Law of God, and abide by it, but because he loves the Law dearly. One of the basic duties of a Jewish father is to teach his children to learn and to love the Law. Thus, If Jesus is able to answers the teachers, to a certain extent, it is because Joseph has taught Him well. Moreover, Jesus prefers to engage with His Father’s affairs. This means Joseph does not only teach Jesus the technicalities of the Law but fundamentally, to love God above all.

 

St. Joseph becomes an example of every man, especially how to raise children. The first and foremost duty of every father is to lead their children to the Lord and to teach them to love God, and to love others for the sake of God. And how to do that? Like St. Joseph, we need to teach our children by example.

 

Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Fourth Sunday of Advent

December 23, 2018

Luke 1: 46-56

 

“Blessed are you who believed that what was spoken to you by the Lord would be fulfilled.”

(Lk. 1:45)

 

Today’s Gospel is truly beautiful. We have two protagonists. They are women, and they are both pregnant. Who are they? Mary and Elizabeth. Yet, why is the story beautiful? It is just natural for women to get pregnant. Unless we need to go closer to the stories and place ourselves in the shoes of Mary and Elisabeth, we can never see the true beauty of their story.

First, Mary, she is young, and at the same time, she is pregnant with no husband. St. Joseph is indeed the husband of Mary, but he is not the father of the baby. Perhaps, in our time, if a woman gets pregnant and yet without a husband, this is an unfortunate event, but life goes on for both the woman and child. however, if we go back to the time of Mary, way back two thousand years ago, that woman would be a great disgrace her family and community. She would be expelled from the community, and sometimes, they would be also stoned to death. Mary understands that when she accepts the will of God, to be the mother of Jesus, she faces death. Indeed, death is the future of Mary.

Second, Elizabeth. Elizabeth has a husband, so nobody will stone her, but her situation is also difficult. She is too old to get pregnant. Once I asked my medical doctor-friends, why is it risky to get pregnant if you are old? One said that as we grow old, so does our body and our muscles. With weaker muscles, a mother will have a difficult time during the process of giving birth, and this can be very dangerous to the baby and the mother.  I said further, why not caesarian? They said that it is also difficult if not deadly. As we grow old, our hearts weaken. If we place ourselves under the knife, with weaker hearts, there is a big possibility that we will not wake up. Like Mary, death may be the future of Elizabeth.

If Mary and Elizabeth know that it is dangerous and even deadly to be pregnant, why are they still following the will of the Lord?

The answer is at the very name of Elizabeth and her husband Zechariah. Zachariah is from the Hebrew word “Zakar”, meaning to remember. Meanwhile, Elizabeth is formed two Hebrew words, Eli and Sabbath, meaning God’s oath or promise. So if we combine the two names, Zachariah-Elizabeth, they mean “God remembers His promise” or “God fulfills His promise.”

Elizabeth knows it is deadly to have John in her womb, but she still follows the will of God, because she is aware the baby was a fulfillment of God’s promise. Mary from Nazareth, the north part of Israel, travels to Judea, the south of Israel, in haste. But, why in haste? Mary is excited, and she wishes to witness how God fulfills His promise to Elizabeth. The moment Mary sees Elizabeth; she knows that the baby inside her womb is also a fulfillment of God’s promise.

Every child, indeed every on us is the fulfillment of God’s promise. Mary and Elizabeth never see the babies in their wombs as mere inconveniences in their lives or unplanned garbage that can be disposed of. Yet, to accept these babies as gifts of God, Mary and Elizabeth have to be courageous because they are going to sacrifice a lot including their own lives. Elizabeth and Mary are brave women and mothers.

The questions are for us: Who among us is not coming from a woman’s womb? We are all here because of a mother. Indeed, not all mothers are perfect. Some of them are not rich, some are having attitude problems, some are not good examples. Yet, the mere fact we are here now, one woman in our life, against all odds, has decided to courageously accept us as a gift, as the fulfillment of God’s promise. To all mothers, thank you very much.

 

Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

Third Sunday of Advent

December 16, 2018

Luke 3:10-18

 

The second question that Archbishop Socrates Villegas of Lingayen-Dagupan asked us during our ordination was, “Are you broken enough?” Once again his question raised eyebrows and was, indeed, counter-intuitive. We want to be flawless, whole and perfect. We desire to achieve more in life, to be wealthy, healthy and pretty. We wish to be socially accepted, respected and gain certain prominence. We want to become somebody, and not nobody. We like others to call us as the famous doctors, the creative entrepreneurs, or successful lawyers. Or for us, people in the Church, we like people to consider us well-sought preachers, generous and builder-priests, or skillful and well-educated sisters.

However, we often forget that the people we serve are broken people. They are broken in many aspects of life. Some are broken financially, some are struggling with health problems, and many are crushed by traumatic experiences in the families. Some are dealing with anger and emotional instability, and some are confronting depression and despair. Some are hurt, and some other are forced to hurt. Many fall victims to injustice and violations of human rights. And all of us are broken by sin. We are serving broken people, and unless we are broken enough like them, our ministry is nothing but superficial and even hypocritical.

Therefore, as the ministers of the Church, we ask ourselves: are we disciplined enough in our study and allow the demands of academic life to push us hard to kiss the ground and continually beg the Truth to enlighten us? Are we patient enough in our life in the community and allow different personalities and conflicts in the seminary, convent or community to shape us up, to make us realize that life is much bigger than ourselves, and to enrich us? Are we resilient enough in our ministry and allow different people in our ministries to challenge our small world, to confront us with failures, and to face a reality that it is not them being served, but us? Are we humble enough in our prayer and allow God to take control of our lives?

In the center of our Eucharistic liturgy are the Word and the Body being broken. The Word of God in the scriptures is read, and the preacher ‘stretches’ and ‘breaks’ it into more relevant and meaningful words for the people of God. The Body of Christ in the consecrated hosts is literally broken, and so this may be enough for everyone. These Word and Body of Christ are broken for the broken people of God. Jesus saves and makes us holy by being one with us, by being broken for us. He is a broken Lord for His broken brothers and sisters.

We the ministers of God are like Jesus Christ, and thus, the questions are: Are we willing to recognize and accept our own imperfections? Are we strong enough to admit that we are weak? Are broken enough that we may share our total selves to our brothers and sisters? Are we like Christ who is broken for others to live?

 

Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP

The solemnity of Christ the King

November 25, 2018

John 18:33-37

 

“You say I am a king. For this I was born and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone who belongs to the truth listens to my voice (John 18:37).”

 

Our Liturgical Year ends with a drama of two kings: Pilate and Jesus. Pilate was representing the superpower nation in those times, the Roman Empire. So massive in its military domination and so ruthless in its conquests are Rome with her mighty legions. Kingdoms bent their knees in homage to Caesar, the king of kings. Pilate embodied this culture of intimidation and violence. He was a notoriously brutal leader, who stole from his subjects and executed people even without a trial. Surely, he thought of himself as the powerful ‘king’ of Jerusalem and anyone who stood on his way, would be destroyed.

We are constantly tempted to belong to this kingdom. A husband refuses to listen to his wife and forces his wills in the family through his physical superiority. Insecure with themselves, bigger and tougher guys bully the smaller and weaker kids in a school. Sadly, it takes place not only in school but almost everywhere: family, workplace, society and even cyberspace. The boss intimidates his employees. The government leaders violently suppress any critical voices no matter correct they may be. In the height of his dictatorship, Joseph Stalin bullied the Church saying, “How many division of tank does the Pope have?” Machiavelli, an Italian philosopher, even once concluded that the orderly society is built upon fear and violence.

However, we have Jesus, the King. But, what kind of king he is? If He is a king, why does he never put on any royal crown, except the crown of thorns forcefully embedded on his head (Mat 27:29)? If He is a king, why does he have no imperial throne except the germ-plagued manger of Bethlehem and the ghastly wood of the cross (Luk 2:7 and Mark 15:30)? If He is a king, why does he control no formidable army, except the disbanded group of naïve followers: one of them sold him for 30 pieces of silver, a price of a slave, another denied Him for three times and the rest ran for their lives? Is Jesus really a king?

Reading our today’s Gospel closely, Jesus says that His kingdom is not of this world. This means that His kingdom does not conform to the standards of this world. It is not built upon military power, forceful domination, or bloody war. Thus, He is king with no golden crown, and his kingdom has no single army. Jesus further reveals that He comes to testify to the truth (John 18:37), and indeed, He is the Truth Himself (John 14:6). He is the king that rules the kingdom of truth, and his subjects are those listen and witness to the truth. His is the Kingdom that turns upside down the values of the earthly kingdom. It is not built upon deceit, coercion, or clever political maneuvers, but upon mercy, justice and honesty. It embodies the genuine love for others even the enemies, service to everyone especially to the poor, and true worship of God.

At the end of the liturgical year, it is providential that the Church chooses this reading for us to contemplate. From the entire liturgical year, we come to the Church and listen to the scriptural readings especially the Gospel. We listen to Jesus Himself, and we are confronted with various aspects of this one Truth. Now, it is time for us to decide whether we become part of the kingdom of Pilate, or we listen to the Truth and follow Jesus.

 

Br. Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP