Peace! Kalilintad! Shalom!

Author: A Dose of God Today

  • When the Word Walks with Us

    When the Word Walks with Us

    December 25, 2025 – The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Mass during the Day

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122525-Day.cfm)

    One Christmas morning, years ago, after a long Misa de Aguinaldo, a parishioner shared a simple story with me. After the Noche Buena, their family was already tired and sleepy. Food was still on the table, children were dozing off, and the elders were quietly chatting. Suddenly, there was a knock on their door. It was a neighbor who lived alone and whose house had burned down a few days earlier. He did not ask for food or money. He only said, “Pwede makilingkod? Aron duna koy maka-istorya karong Pasko.” And so, they made space, reheated food, and listened. Later, the mother of the family said, “Now I understand that in Christmas, it is not only about preparing food, but preparing for someone.”

    That simple moment captures the heart of Christmas Day. After all the lights, songs, and celebrations, Christmas asks us one quiet but deep question. What happens when God truly comes close to us?

    The first reading from Isaiah speaks of beautiful feet, feet that bring good news, peace, and salvation. This image is very concrete. God does not shout His message from the sky. He sends messengers who walk, who travel dusty roads, who enter villages, and who speak hope where it is most needed. For a people who had known suffering, defeat, and exile, this message was life-giving: “Your God reigns. You are not forgotten. Salvation is near.”

    This resonates deeply with us as Filipinos. We are a people who value presence. We walk long distances just to visit loved ones. Our students here at MSU-Marawi have to travel for many hours to get home. Thus, we show up even when it is inconvenient. And in moments of crisis like typhoons, earthquakes, and sickness, we know how powerful it is when someone simply arrives and says, “I am here.” Isaiah reminds us that this is how God comes to us, close, personal, and real.

    Moreover, the second reading from the Letter to the Hebrews takes this even further. It tells us that in the past, God spoke through prophets in many ways. But now, God speaks to us through His Son. This means that God no longer sends only messages. God sends Himself. Jesus is not just a teacher of God’s word. He is God’s Word made visible. He is the image of the invisible God.

    Then we hear the Gospel according to John, perhaps the most profound Christmas Gospel of all. There is no manger, no shepherds, no angels singing. Instead, John proclaimed, “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.… and the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”

    This is a bold declaration. God chose to enter human life fully. God accepted our limits, our struggles, our wounds, and even our rejection.

    And here is the painful truth that the Gospel does not hide, John continued to proclaim, “He came to his own, but his own did not accept him.” Christmas is not always welcomed. Sometimes, God comes knocking, and we are too busy, too distracted, or too comfortable to notice.

    Yet the Gospel does not end there. It says, “To those who did accept him, he gave power to become children of God.” This is the gift of Christmas Day. Not just forgiveness. Not just our comfort and good tiding. But a new identity. We are no longer strangers. We are family, sisters and brothers!

    This leads us to this reality that Christmas is God choosing to walk with us so that we may learn how to walk with one another.

    Remember, the Word became flesh not to remain distant, but to be encountered in our everyday life, there in our conversations, relationships, and in our choices. Jesus is present when we speak truth with kindness, when we choose honesty over convenience, and when we open space for those who feel unseen.

    Today, as families and friends gather again, Christmas invites us to reflect. Why? Because it is possible to have a full Noche Buena but an empty heart. It is possible to celebrate loudly and lavishly but love indifferently. The Word became flesh so that our faith would not remain an idea, but will become our way of life.

    In our country today, many people long for good news. Not slogans. Not promises. But real good news. Indeed, as Filipinos, we long for news that restores dignity, that defends truth, that protects the poor, the conversion of the corrupt leaders and that builds peace. Isaiah speaks of messengers with beautiful feet. However, this Christmas Day asks us, “Can our lives become that message?”

    The Word walks with us so that we may walk with integrity. The light shines so that we may reflect it. And so, grace is given to us, so that it may be shared.

    As the celebration continues beyond this Mass, let us remember that Christmas does not end today. It begins today, in how we live, speak, choose and relate with one another. Hinaut pa.

  • When A Child, A Love becomes more present

    When A Child, A Love becomes more present

    December 24, 2025 – The Nativity of the Lord (Christmas), Mass during the Night

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122525-Night.cfm)

    Several years ago, after a strong typhoon hit a coastal town in Samar, a reporter interviewed a family whose house had been completely destroyed by Yolanda. The roof was gone, the walls had collapsed, and almost everything they owned was washed away. When asked where they would celebrate Christmas, the father smiled gently and said, “Dito pa rin. Magkakasama naman kami.” That night, with only a small candle, a few cups of rice, and neighbors gathered around, they shared a simple meal and prayed. There were no Christmas lights, no gifts, and no loud music but certainly, there was warmth, laughter, and gratitude. In that very fragile home, Christmas still happened, because love was present.

    That story captures something deeply close to us Filipinos and deeply Christian. Christmas, for us, is not about having everything complete or perfect. It is about being together. Meaning, it is about presence. And tonight, as we celebrate the Nativity of the Lord, the Church proclaims a truth that speaks directly to our hearts that God chose to be present with us, especially in our darkness. And so, let us explore our readings how love becomes more present into our realities.

    The first reading from Isaiah, it speaks to a people who knew what darkness felt like. They were burdened by fear, oppression, and uncertainty about the future. Life was heavy, and hope seemed far away. Yet, God speaks words of promise to them. God tells them that a great light will shine upon those who walk in darkness, and that this light will come not as an idea or a feeling, but as a child. A son will be born, and through him peace, justice, and hope will take root again. This makes love ever more present.

    This promise is not only for the people of long ago. Many us, Filipinos, today also walk in darkness of different kinds. Darkness comes in the form of rising prices of commodities, unstable work, broken relationships, systemic corruption that wounds our nation, and personal struggles we quietly carry. Some families celebrate Christmas tonight with heavy hearts, worried about tomorrow or missing loved ones who are far away, sick, or gone. And into this reality, the Word of God speaks clearly to us by not waiting for darkness to disappear before He comes. Rather, the Lord enters the darkness and brings light from within. This makes love ever more present.

    In fact, the Gospel of Luke shows us how this light arrived. God did not choose Rome or a palace, but Bethlehem. He did not announce the birth to kings or the powerful, but to shepherds. They were ordinary people who worked at night and lived on the margins. The angel’s words to them are tender and direct, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy for all the people.” This joy is not selective. It is offered to everyone, especially to those who feel small, tired, and forgotten. And this makes love ever more present.

    Indeed, the child is born in simplicity, wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger. This tells us something important about God’s heart. God does not come to overpower us. He comes close enough to be welcomed, trusted, and loved. In the vulnerability of the child Jesus, we see a God who chooses closeness over control, compassion over display, and gentleness over power. This makes love ever more present.

    Saint Paul, in his letter to Titus, helps us understand what this means for our daily life. He tells us that the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all, and that this grace teaches us how to live. Christmas grace is not passive. It invites us to turn away from what destroys life and to choose what builds and nourishes life. The birth of Christ is not only something we remember now. Christmas should rather shape how we live and decide as Christians.

    This leads us to the heart of tonight’s message that Christmas is the moment when God’s light enters our ordinary lives so that we may live differently and fully. God’s light enters homes where patience is tested, relationships are strained, and forgiveness feels difficult. God’s light enters communities where honesty and integrity are challenged and where doing what is right often costs something. God’s light enters a nation longing for healing, justice, and peace. And when that light enters this makes love ever more present.

    Moreover, the shepherds showed us how to respond to this light. They did not delay or made excuses. They went, they saw, and they believed. After encountering the child, they returned to their work, but they returned being changed by that encounter. They carried joy, wonder, and praise back into their ordinary lives. Christmas did not remove them from reality, it rather, transformed how they lived within it. This makes love ever more present in them.

    This is also our challenge tonight. After this Mass, we will return to our homes, into our routines, and our responsibilities. The question is not whether Christmas will end, but whether its light will continue in us. And so, Will the child born in the manger be seen in our words, our choices, our priorities, and our relationships?

    In a society where anger spreads quickly and truth is often compromised, Christmas calls us to be a people of light. In families where silence and resentment have grown, Christmas calls us to be bridges of reconciliation. In a country where many feel powerless, Christmas reminds us that God often begins renewal through small but faithful acts done with love so that it becomes more present in us.

    Remember what the angels proclaimed, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace.” That peace grows when hearts choose humility, compassion, and courage. Tonight, God has come home to us not to demand perfection, but to walk with us and transform us from within.

    And so, let us welcome Jesus not only with songs and decorations, or with our Noche Buena and parties, but with lives willing to carry His light beyond this night so that love becomes ever more present and concrete in our lives.

    And so, I invite you to pray with me this prayer as I end this reflection. Together…

    Lord Jesus, Light of the world, come into our homes this Christmas. Stay with us in our joys and in our struggles. Heal what is broken among us, soften our hearts, and teach us to love as You love. May our family become a place where Your light is seen, Your peace is felt, and Your presence is shared with others. Amen.

    Merry Christmas everyone!

  • God is Home with Us 

    God is Home with Us 

    December 24, 2025 – Vigil Mass of the Nativity of the Lord

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122525-Vigil.cfm)

    Every Filipino knows that Christmas is not complete without family. Even those who live far away will try their best to come home. Some travel for hours, others for days. We brave traffic, long lines, delayed trips, and empty wallets, just to sit again at the same table. And when we finally arrive, there is always that familiar scene: food that overflows but for some it may seem never enough but somehow feeds everyone, relatives teasing each other, stories repeated every year, and laughter that makes the house feel alive again. Sometimes it is chaotic, sometimes noisy, sometimes even tiring but we still say, “Lahi ra gyud ang Pasko kung kumpleto atong pamilya.”

    Tonight, as we celebrate the Vigil Mass of the Nativity of the Lord, the Church tells us something very simple and very deep that Christmas is God coming home to us. Not as a guest who stays for a while, but as family who chooses to stay, who chooses to be with us.

    The first reading from Isaiah speaks of joy and restoration. The people had suffered exile, loss, and shame. They felt abandoned. But God speaks to them with tenderness. He tells them that they will no longer be called forsaken, no longer desolate. God delights in them. God rejoices over them like a bridegroom rejoices over his bride. This is not the language of a distant God. This is the language of love. God does not just fix things from afar. He commits Himself. He binds His joy to the joy of His people.

    The Psalm continues this promise. God speaks of a covenant that will last forever. His kindness will not be taken back. His faithfulness will remain. For a people who experienced broken promises from leaders, from systems, even from family, this assurance mattered deeply. God is saying, “I am not leaving. I am staying with you. I am here for you.”

    Moreover, in the second reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Paul retells the long story of God’s faithfulness. As God chose the people, God also raised leaders. God guided them patiently, even when they failed. And from this long history, God brings forth a Savior, Jesus. This reminds us that Christmas did not happen suddenly. It was prepared through generations of ordinary people. Some of those were faithful, some weak, some confused but all held by God’s mercy.

    This brings us to the Gospel of Matthew. Instead of beginning with angels and shepherds, Matthew starts with a long list of names which we have already heard on the Second Day of Misa de Aguinaldo. At first glance, it may sound boring. But if we listen carefully, this genealogy tells us something powerful. God chose to enter a family line that is imperfect. There are saints and sinners, kings and outsiders, faithful men and broken ones. This is not a clean story but a very human story.

    In this lineage we have Joseph, a man of silence and gentleness. He does not speak a single word in the Gospel. But his actions speak loudly. When he learns that Mary is pregnant, his world collapses. He is hurt, confused, and afraid. He plans to walk away quietly. But God meets him in a dream and asks him to do something difficult. He was called to trust, to stay, to take Mary into his home, and to name the child, Jesus.

    And Joseph obeys. He chooses love over pride. He chooses responsibility over comfort. He chooses faith over fear. And because of that choice, God enters the world not in a palace, but in a home with him and in with Mary.

    Here is the heart of Christmas: God does not save us from a distance. God enters our story and becomes part of our family. Thus, Emmanuel, the God-with-us, is not an idea. It is a reality lived in the middle of human weakness, confusion, and our ordinary life.

    This is why Christmas speaks so deeply to us Filipinos. We know what it means to hold families together despite poverty, distance, and wounds. We know what it means to forgive, to adjust, to endure, just so the family remains whole. And tonight, through the birth of Jesus our Lord, God tells us, “That is exactly how I love you.”

    But Christmas is not only meant to touch our hearts. It is meant to change how we live. It is meant to transform us.

    In our country today, many families are struggling. In fact, in the recent SWS Survey as of September 2025, the study found 50% of Filipino Families considered themselves poor.[1] In addition to that, there are also some tables are missing loved ones because of migration, sickness, conflict, or recent deaths. Many homes carry unspoken wounds like misunderstandings, resentment, and long silence. There are families divided by politics, money, and pride. There are also homes where joy has been replaced by survival.

    Into all of this, God still comes. Not to judge, but to heal us. Not to condemn, but to stay with us. But God also invites us to respond. We are not meant to stay passive.

    And Joseph teaches us that welcoming Jesus means making space, even when it is inconvenient. Isaiah reminds us that God delights in restoring what is broken. The genealogy reminds us that God works through imperfect families. And Jesus’ birth tells us that love becomes real when it chooses to commit and stay.

    So tonight, Christmas asks us one honest question, Is there room for God to be born in our family, not just in our decorations, but in our relationships?

    God comes home to us so that our homes may become places of mercy, patience, and hope. When we forgive, God is born. When we choose to stay instead of walk away, God is born. When we protect life, dignity, and truth, God is born. When we choose honesty and uphold what is just, God is born.

    Indeed, Christmas is God choosing to stay with us, so that we may learn to stay with one another.

    As we celebrate tonight , exchange our joyful Christmas greetings and gifts, and gather around our tables, may we remember that the greatest gift is already here. God is home with us.

    And so, I leave you one invitation. This Christmas, choose one relationship in your family where you will take the first step toward healing through forgiveness, listening, or simply by being present. Let that be your way of welcoming Christ into your home. Hinaut pa.

    [1] https://newsinfo.inquirer.net/2132072/half-of-filipinos-consider-themselves-poor-sws-survey-shows

  • When Silence Turns into Courage

    When Silence Turns into Courage

    December 24, 2025 – 9th Day of Misa de Aguinaldo

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122425.cfm)

    As people, we are very familiar with silence. There is the silence we keep out of respect, the silence of endurance when life is hard, and sometimes, the silence we choose because speaking feels risky, dangerous. We have learned to endure silently during calamities and man-made disasters, economic hardships, injustice, and disappointments in our relationships. Many times, we tell ourselves, “Antos lang sa,” hoping that things will really get better in time for us. Yet, there is also a silence that weighs heavily. This silence comes from fear, frustration, or the feeling that our voice no longer matters.

    On this 9th and final day of the Misa de Aguinaldo, the Word of God speaks directly to that silence. It shows us that God does not want His people to remain voiceless forever. When God acts, silence is not meant to imprison us, but to prepare us for a braver and truer voice. I invite you now that we look closely at our readings and realize God’s wonderful invitations for us.

    In the First Reading from the Second Book of Samuel, King David was settled and secured. He had peace, power, and a comfortable home. Seeing this, he felt the desire to do something for God. He planned to build a house for the Lord. But God interrupted him. God reminded David that from the beginning, it was never about what David could do something for God, but about what God had already done for David. God took him from being a shepherd to becoming king. God protected him from his enemies. And now, God promises something deeper. The Lord said, “I will be a father to him.”

    This promise is not about buildings or a privileged status. It is about relationship and responsibility. God assured David of the Divine presence, but that presence also carries a mission for David. To belong to God is not only to be blessed, but to live in a way that reflects who God is.

    The Psalm echoes this same hope. The people proclaimed God’s steadfast love and faithfulness, not because their lives were easy, but because God remained faithful even when times were dark. In moments when leaders fail and systems collapsed, what kept the people standing was the conviction that God does not abandon His covenant. God remembers and God stays with us.

    This prepares us now for the Gospel, the Song of Zechariah, often called as the Benedictus. This song is not sung in comfort. It is rather sung after a long season of silence. Zechariah had been unable to speak because he doubted God’s word. Years of disappointment had closed his heart. Perhaps he believed that God’s promises no longer applied to him. That silence, however, became a space where God slowly worked wonderfully and powerfully.

    When Zechariah’s mouth was finally opened, what flowed out was not anger or self-defense, but praise and truth. He blessed the Lord, not because everything suddenly became perfect for him, but because he already saw clearly and recognized that God has visited His people, that God is fulfilling His promise, and that salvation is unfolding before his eyes.

    Indeed, Zechariah’s song is deeply prophetic. It speaks of God raising a mighty savior, of people being rescued from fear and terror, of hearts being turned back to God. But it also speaks of mission. Zechariah realized that his son, John, will go before the Lord to prepare His way, to give people knowledge of salvation, and to lead them out of darkness into light.

    This is where the Song of Zechariah becomes painfully relevant for us today.

    We live in a society, a nation wounded by massive corruption, dishonesty, and insincerity in public service. Many Filipinos have grown tired of broken promises. We have seen leaders speak beautiful words but live empty lives. We have watched truth being bent, justice delayed, and the poor always forgotten. In such a climate, it is tempting to withdraw, to just stay silent, and to say, “Wala na tayong magagawa,”– as if we can do nothing at all anymore.

    However, Zechariah’s song challenges this attitude of indifference. His praise is not passive. It is rather courageous because he speaks of light shining on those who dwell in darkness. He speaks of guiding feet into the path of peace. This is not poetry at all meant to entertain us.

    The Benedictus is a call to conscience.

    John the Baptist, whose mission Zechariah proclaimed, will grow up to become a prophet not by pleasing people and those in power and authority, but by telling the truth. John will speak against corruption, hypocrisy, and false religiosity. His integrity will disturb the comfortable and awaken the complacent. He will remind people that preparing the way of the Lord means changing how one lives, not just how one speaks.

    Today, the Church invites us also to see and situate ourselves in that very mission. We may not stand in public platforms or wear camel’s hair like John, but we are called to be prophetic in our own spaces. In our offices, schools, barangays, organizations, institutions and communities, we are called to let conscience speak. Integrity must become our language then. Honesty must be our habit. And truth must guide our choices, even when it costs us comfort or approval from others.

    Like Zechariah, many of us certainly, have experienced seasons of silence. We stayed silent to survive. We stayed silent to protect ourselves. Yet, Advent reminds us that silence is not the final word. God opens our mouths. And God restores our voices. Indeed, God calls ordinary people to speak light into dark places.

    This is the one theme that binds everything today that God frees our voice so that we may become witnesses of truth and hope.

    As we begin Christmas this evening, welcoming Christ means more than celebrating His birth. It means allowing Jesus’ light to shape our conscience. It means refusing to normalize corruption, dishonesty, and indifference in our hearts and communities. It means choosing integrity even when it is difficult.

    Zechariah taught us that when we finally trust God again, our voice becomes a blessing not only for ourselves, but for the whole community. John taught us too that preparing the way of the Lord requires courage, clarity, and faithfulness.

    So, may this final dawn of the Misa de Aguinaldo awaken in us a renewed conscience and a braver voice. And so, I leave you now the two concrete takeaways.

    First. Practice integrity deliberately. In one specific situation this Christmas season, choose honesty over convenience, even if no one is watching.

    Second. Speak truth with charity. When silence allows wrongdoing to continue, find a respectful but firm way to stand for what is right in your family, workplace, or community.

    May the God who turned Zechariah’s silence into prophecy also turn our silent endurance into courageous witness, so that our nation may slowly walk again in the path of peace. Hinaut pa.

  • Called by Name, Sent with a Mission

    Called by Name, Sent with a Mission

    December 23, 2025 – 8th Day of Misa de Aguinaldo

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/122325.cfm)

    Maayong Good Morning! In many Filipino families, the giving of a name is never simple. When a woman is pregnant, there are long conversations, sometimes even gentle arguments in giving a name to the baby. Some want to name the child after a grandparent, as a way of honoring family roots. In the case of my father, he chose to name me after his nickname.

    Well, others also choose the name of a saint, hoping the child will grow under that saint’s guidance. There are names inspired by faith, by gratitude, or by a story that touched the parents’ lives. And we believe that a name carries meaning. A name carries a story. A name also carries a hope.

    Today, on this 8th Day of Misa de Aguinaldo, the readings invite us to reflect not only on names, but on calling. They remind us that before we were named by our parents, we were already known by God. And more than being known, each of us is called for a purpose. And so, let us journey deeper into our readings today and realize God’s invitations for us.

    In the Gospel, we have heard the story of the birth of John the Baptist. Elizabeth gave birth, and the neighbors rejoiced with her. On the eighth day, the child is to be named. According to their custom, they want to call him Zechariah, after his father. That was the normal way. That was what people expected. But Elizabeth spoke firmly, “He will be called John.” The people were confused because no one in the family had that name. So they turned to Zechariah.

    Here, something important happened. Zechariah, who had been silent for many months, wrote on the tablet, “John is his name.” At that moment, his mouth was opened. His tongue was freed. He began to speak, praising God. And so, silence ended as he began to praise God. Yet, fear and wonder filled everyone who witnessed this moment.

    To understand this better, we need to remember that Zechariah doubted God’s graciousness. He asked for proof. Because of that doubt, he lost his voice. His silence was not just physical. It was also spiritual because it because a time of waiting, listening, and learning to trust again.

    When Zechariah finally obeyed God’s word and named his son John, something was healed. His obedience opened his mouth. His trust restored his voice. This teaches us a powerful lesson that indeed, when we align ourselves with God’s will, even after doubt or failure, God gives us a new beginning.

    Hence, God’s graciousness was revealed in John. He is the one spoken of in the first reading from the prophet Malachi. John is the messenger who will prepare the way of the Lord, who will purify hearts and turn people back to God. John’s life will not be easy. He will live simply but will speak boldly and will call people to repentance. And his mission is clear and that is to point not to himself, but to the One who is coming.

    This is why the people ask in wonder, “What, then, will this child be?” They sensed that God’s hand is at work. They knew that this child has a purpose beyond ordinary expectations.

    Here, the Word of God gently turns toward us now. Like John, each of us has been called by name. We are not accidents. We are not forgotten. Our lives are not meaningless. God knows us deeply, even more than our parents do. And like Zechariah, we sometimes struggle to trust that calling.

    Indeed, many of us today are perhaps carrying silent doubts. We doubt our worth. We doubt our ability to change. We doubt that God can still use us after our mistakes. Some of us have lost our voice. Not literally, but spiritually. We stop speaking about what is right. We stop standing for truth. We stop working for justice. We stop expressing faith because we are tired, afraid, or disappointed.

    However, the story of Zechariah today gives us hope. Silence does not have to be the end. Waiting also does not mean abandonment. God uses even our silent seasons to shape us. When the time is right, God can open our mouths again, not to complain, but to praise. Not to defend ourselves, but to proclaim His goodness and graciousness.

    The psalm today echoes this message, “Teach me your ways, O Lord.” It is the prayer of someone who knows that life is a journey. Hence, we do not always see clearly and so we need guidance. We need humility. God leads the humble in what is right. He teaches those who are willing to listen.

    As Christmas approaches in two days, John the Baptist stands before us as a reminder of our role that we are not the Savior. But we are called to prepare the way. In our homes, workplaces, schools, and communities, we can help make hearts ready for Christ. Not through loud words, but through honest lives. Not through perfection, but through our sincerity.

    Like the parents who choose a name with hope for their child’s future, God has placed hope in each of us first. Our names, our lives, our stories matter to God. And even when we have doubted, like Zechariah, God patiently waits for us to trust again.

    So, remember this, we are called by God not just by name, but for a mission. When we listen and obey, our lives become a voice that points others to Christ. I leave you now your two takeaways.

    First. Live your name and calling with intention. Ask yourself: How can my words and actions today help prepare a place for Christ in the lives of others?

    Second. Use your voice for good. Speak words that heal, encourage, and tell the truth, especially in situations where silence allows harm or indifference to grow.

    As we continue our Misa de Aguinaldo, may John the Baptist remind us that even before Christ arrives in Bethlehem, God is already at work, calling us by name and sending us with purpose. Ok lang? Sana All.