Category: Year 2

  • Chosen to Be With Him         

    Chosen to Be With Him         

    January 23, 2026 – Friday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

    Homily for the Holy Mass of the 4th Mechanized Infantry Battalion, Philippine Army

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/012326.cfm)

    Many of us know the experience of being invited and especially of the feeling of not being invited. For example, you hear about a meeting yet, you were not part of it. Or perhaps you heard of an operation decided without your feedback. A better assignment may have been given to others instead of you, even though you worked harder. And it stings, it hurts our feelings, even for those who have achieved higher education or among seasoned soldiers. Quietly, it makes us ask about our place, our worth, and whether we still matter.

    However, this ordinary human experience would help us enter today’s liturgical readings.

    In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus went up the mountain and called those he wanted. It was a deliberate act. He chose people not because they were impressive, flawless, or powerful, but because Jesus desired them. Fishermen, a tax collector, men with strong personalities and clear weaknesses, these were the ones He called. And the Gospel is very clear about the first reason for the call: that they might be with him. Before mission, before authority, before action, there is first the “presence,” of simply just being present.

    This is a powerful word especially for you, men and women of the Philippine Army. Your life is shaped by readiness, discipline, and action. You are trained to move, to respond, to protect, often under pressure and risk. These are noble and necessary qualities. Yet, the Gospel gently reminds us that strength without grounding can become dangerous, and action without inner clarity can slowly erode the soul. This means that even the strongest soldier needs an interior anchor, a grounded foundation of the self.

    The first reading from the First Book of Samuel, deepens this message. David had every reason and opportunity to kill Saul. Saul hunted him relentlessly because of jealousy. David’s men even interpreted the moment as God’s will. But David refused. Instead, David lowered his weapon and chose restraint over revenge, fidelity over impulse. David knew that power without reverence and respect lead to destruction. He understood that authority must remain under God, not above him.

    For soldiers, this scene speaks clearly. You are trained to carry weapons, but also to carry responsibility. You know better than most that not every opportunity to strike is a command to strike. David showed us that moral strength is revealed not only in courage under fire, but also in the ability to hold back when conscience demands it.

    Here is the one theme that unites the Gospel and the reading:
    that being chosen by God means learning to remain with Him, so that our strength serves life, not fear or pride.

    In today’s context, the challenges are real. Long deployments, separation from family, exhaustion, moral injury, frustration with systems, and the temptation to harden oneself just to survive. Some would cope by shutting down emotionally. Others carry anger quietly. Still others struggle with guilt over decisions made in complex situations. These are not signs of weakness. They are rather, signs that you are human.

    Jesus knows this. That is why His first invitation is not “to go,” but “to stay with me.” Only those who remain with Him can be sent without losing themselves. Only those who stay rooted can act without becoming cruel. Only those who pray can carry authority without abusing it. And only those who truly love can exercise power not as a form of destruction but to nurture and protect life.

    David spared Saul because he knew his identity before God was more important than securing his future by force. The disciples were sent because they first learned how to listen, walk, and live with Jesus. The same is true for you. Your service to the nation is honorable, but it becomes truly life-giving when it flows from a conscience formed by prayer, humility, and reverence for life.

    You are not called merely to become efficient soldiers, but to be men and women of integrity. Hence, you are protectors who know when to advance and when to restrain. You are called to become leaders who act firmly without losing compassion. And you are called to be servants who remain human in the midst of conflict.

    This means that to be “with Him” (to be with Jesus) today may mean guarding your interior life as carefully as you guard your post. It may mean seeking help when the weight becomes too heavy. It may mean choosing silence and prayer instead of bitterness. This is not weakness. This is the deeper discipline.

    Thus, I leave you now two simple and doable takeaways.

    First, make space to be with God regularly, even briefly—before duty, after operations, or at day’s end—so that your strength remains rightly ordered.

    Second, in moments of pressure or anger, pause before acting and ask: “Does my decision protect life and honor God, or does it come from my fear and pride?”

    Remember, to be chosen by God is a gift. To remain with Him is the grace that keeps your service human, just, and truly strong. Hinaut pa.

  • Staying Grounded When Applause Grows

    Staying Grounded When Applause Grows

    January 22, 2026 – Thursday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/012226.cfm)

    We have all experienced it in small ways that when you do something good, people notice it. At first, it feels affirming. Then, comparisons begin. Someone could feel threatened because of the good things we do. This is how words change and be twisted. Support from others may quietly turn into tension. And suddenly, what once brought joy to us could now bring stress. Many friendships, families, offices, even church groups quietly suffer from this kind of attitude in us.

    However, such situation in us is a good doorway into today’s readings.

    In the Gospel of Mark, we see two movements. First, people move toward Jesus. They come with wounds, sickness, confusion, and hope. They are drawn to Him because, in Him, they see life. They take risks just to get near Him, to touch Him, to be healed.

    But there is also the movement of Jesus Himself. Despite the crowds, despite His growing popularity, He does not cling to attention or power. He does not use people to build His name. Instead, He remains rooted in who He is before the Father. His popularity does not inflate Him. Rather, it deepens His compassion. And so, he is able to listen well and to bring healing.

    This is where the first reading gives us a sharp contrast.

    In the First Book of Samuel, Saul also faces popularity, but not his own. The women began to sing, “Saul has slain his thousands, David his ten thousands.” From that moment, Saul’s heart changes. He begins to look at David with suspicion and fear. What Saul loses is not power, but his peace. Insecurity enters and Jealousy grows in his hear. Instead of rejoicing in God’s work, he feels threatened by it.

    This tells us now that when our identity is not grounded in God, success, whether ours or others, can quietly poison the heart.

    Saul’s problem was not David. It was his fear of losing control and importance. Jesus, on the other hand, never needed to protect His image. He knew who He was. That is why crowds did not corrupt Him, and rejection did not break Him.

    This speaks directly to our present struggles. Many of our stresses today come from comparison. Social media magnifies it. Our workplaces could feed it. Even our ministry and service in the Church are not spared. Why? It is because we compare achievements, recognition, followers, and influence. When our sense of worth depends on applause or the approval of others, we become restless, defensive, and easily hurt.

    This is how we also develop unhealthy coping like becoming arrogant and bitter, withdrawn from others, or having the need to control others. Like Saul, we could begin to see rivals instead of brothers and sisters. Like the Pharisees earlier in Mark, we could become suspicious rather than compassionate.

    Yet, the Gospel quietly teaches another way. People move toward Jesus because He gives life, not pressure. And Jesus moves toward people without needing to own them or dominate them. It is because Jesus’ heart remains free.

    This invites us to ask now, “Where do I find my worth? In recognition, or in being known by God? Am I able to rejoice when others are blessed? Or do I quietly feel diminished?

    Jonathan’s role in the first reading is important too. He chooses trust over fear. He protects David instead of competing with him. He reminds us that humility and generosity can interrupt cycles of jealousy and violence.

    Indeed, to live like Jesus is to stay grounded by being aware of our limits, grateful for our gifts, and at peace with who we are before God.

    And so, I leave you now two takeaways.

    First, notice when comparison begins to steal your peace. Pause, pray, and return to God’s gaze and not to people’s opinions and perceptions.

    Second, choose one act of generosity today, so, affirm someone else’ success without diminishing yourself. Hinaut pa.

  • Facing Giants Without Losing the Heart

    Facing Giants Without Losing the Heart

    January 21, 2025 – Wednesday of the Second Week of Ordinary Time; Memorial of St. Agnes, Virgin and Martyr

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/012126.cfm)

    Most of us know what it feels like to be intimidated. It may not be a person shouting at us, but a problem that keeps standing in our way. For some, it is a failing grade that threatens one’s future. For others, it is a broken relationship, a sickness that refuses to go away, a job suddenly lost, or a habit we promised many times to stop but still control us. These problems do not come politely. They pressure us, exhaust us, and slowly make us believe that we are small and helpless.

    This is where today’s readings speak clearly. In the first reading, we met David facing Goliath. David was young, untrained for war, and clearly outmatched. Goliath was not only big. He was meant to terrify and crush enemies. He mocked, threatened, and paralyzed an entire army. Yet, David stepped forward, not because he was strong, but because he knew he was not alone. He said with quiet confidence that the battle belongs to the Lord. David did not deny the size of the giant. He simply trusted more in the presence of God than in the power of fear.

    The Gospel of Mark shows another kind of giant. Jesus faced the hardness of heart of the Pharisees. A man with a withered hand stood before Him. The leaders were watching closely, not to help, but to accuse. Jesus knew that healing on the Sabbath will cause trouble. Still, He chose mercy. He allowed compassion to speak louder than fear. The real sickness in the story was not the man’s hand, but hearts that prefer rules over life.

    Here we see one clear truth that indeed, true courage is choosing life and faithfulness to God, even when fear and pressure are strong.

    This same courage shines in the life of St. Agnes, virgin and martyr. She was very young, yet she faced threats, humiliation, and death because she refused to give up her faith and dignity. Her bullying giant was not physical strength, but fear. It was the fear of pain, rejection, and death. Agnes did not overcome this by force. She overcame it by trusting God completely. Like David, she knew who stood with her. Like Jesus, she chose faithfulness over safety.

    Our giants today may look different, but they work the same way. Fear tells us to keep quiet, to settle, to hide, to give up what is right because it is easier. Fear tells us we are alone. Faith reminds us that God is present, even when the outcome is uncertain.

    The message is not that we will always win easily. David still had to step forward. Jesus still faced anger. Agnes still suffered. But none of them let fear decide who they were.

    When we face our own giants which could be a form of addiction, loneliness, injustice, or discouragement, we are invited to do the same. We are called to trust God, seek help, and choose what gives life.

    Thus, I leave you today two takeaways.

    First, name your giant honestly. Do not deny it, but do not face it alone. Instead, pray and seek help from someone you trust.

    Second, choose one small act of courage today, even if fear is still there. Faith grows when we move forward despite it. Hinaut pa.

  • God Looks at the Heart

    God Looks at the Heart

    January 20, 2026 – Tuesday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/012026.cfm)

    Jesus often made people uncomfortable, especially those who thought they were already right with God. In today’s Gospel, the Pharisees watched Him closely, not to learn, but to find fault. They complained because His disciples picked grain on the Sabbath. For them, the law mattered more than hunger, more than people, more than life itself.

    The Sabbath, which was meant to be a gift, had become a burden. Something meant to give rest had turned into a tool for control. A hungry person could not eat. A suffering person could not be helped. All because the “rule” had become more important than mercy. Jesus saw this clearly and said it plainly, “The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.” God’s law is meant to give life, not to choke it.

    This same problem is already present in the First Reading from the First Book of Samuel. Samuel was sent to choose a new king among the sons of Jesse. Naturally, Samuel was impressed by the tall, strong, and confident sons. They looked like kings. But God stopped him and said something very important, “Not as man sees does God see; man looks at appearances, but the Lord looks at the heart.” In the end, God chose David, the youngest, the least noticed, and the one left tending the sheep.

    This brings into the realization that when we focus only on appearances, rules, and status, we miss the heart of God.

    The Pharisees saw a violation of the law but missed hungry men. Samuel saw strong bodies but almost missed a faithful heart. In ordinary life, we could fall into the same trap. We judge quickly. We complain easily. We focus on what is “wrong” rather than what is needed. We protect rules, routines, and even our religious practices, but sometimes forget compassion.

    You know, Jesus is not against the Sabbath. God is not against leadership or structure. What both reject is a faith that forgets people. If our religious practice makes us hard, judgmental, and bitter, then something is wrong. If our sacrifices prevent kindness, then they are no longer pleasing to God.

    God chose David not because he was perfect, but because his heart was open. Jesus defended His disciples not because rules do not matter, but because mercy matters more. God’s question is never, “Did you follow every rule?” but rather, “Have you given life?”

    This challenges us to look honestly at ourselves. We may ask, “What do we see first, rules or people? Faults or needs? Appearances or hearts? It also challenges us to ask, “What kind of God do I really worship? A God of love and mercy, or a god made of rules, pride, and status?”

    Jesus invites us back to the center. Faith is not about winning arguments or pointing out mistakes. Faith is about choosing what gives life. Like David, we may feel small or unnoticed, but God sees our heart. Like the disciples, we may be judged by others, but Jesus stands with those who choose life. Hinaut pa.

  • Listening Is Better Than Explaining

    Listening Is Better Than Explaining

    January 19, 2026 – Monday of the Second Week in Ordinary Time

    Click here for the readings (https://bible.usccb.org/bible/readings/011926.cfm)

    Most of us want a life that feels safe and predictable. We follow routines, hold on to habits, and protect traditions because they give us a sense of control. We know what to expect, and that feels comforting. But slowly, without noticing it, what once helped us can begin to trap us. We start doing things not because they give life, but simply because “this is how it has always been.”

    In the Gospel of Mark, Jesus uses simple images: old cloth, new cloth; old wineskins, new wine. He is not attacking tradition. He is pointing out something deeper. When God is doing something new, old containers may no longer be able to hold it. New wine needs fresh wineskins, not because the old ones are bad, but because they have become rigid.

    The same struggle appears clearly in the First Reading from the First Book of Samuel. King Saul follows God’s command only halfway. He defeats the enemy, but keeps what he personally considers useful. When confronted by the prophet Samuel, Saul explains himself, even claiming he did it “for God.” Samuel’s response is sharp and unforgettable, “Obedience is better than sacrifice.” Indeed, God is not impressed by religious excuses. What the Lord desires is a listening heart.

    This makes us realize that God desires obedience that flows from a listening and open heart, not from rigid practices that protect our comfort.

    Saul thought sacrifice could cover disobedience. The people questioning Jesus thought fasting defined holiness. In both cases, the problem is the same. People believed and were more attached to their way of doing things than to what God was actually asking of them at that moment.

    This is where the message becomes very close to our daily life. Sometimes we are like Saul. We obey, but only up to the point where it does not disturb us too much. We pray, but avoid forgiveness. We serve, but refuse correction. We keep traditions, but resist change when God asks us to grow.

    Jesus does not come to destroy what is old. He comes to fulfill it. But fulfillment always involves change. New wine stretches us. It questions habits that no longer give life. It exposes excuses that sound religious but hide fear.

    God’s invitations often feel uncomfortable because they ask us to listen more deeply and let go of control. But this discomfort is not meant to break us. It is meant to renew us. Like fresh wineskins, we are called to remain flexible, humble, and attentive to God’s voice.

    The real question is not, “Am I doing religious things?” The real question is, “Am I truly listening to God today?” As Samuel reminds us, God prefers a heart that listens over hands that perform rituals.

    When we allow God to surprise us, we discover that His call, though challenging, always leads to life, healing, and deeper freedom. With that, I leave you two takeaways for today.

    First, pause and listen before acting. Ask daily, “Lord, what are You asking of me now, not yesterday?”

    Second, let go of one habit that no longer gives life. Replace it with one concrete act of obedience, however small, but begin today. Hinaut pa.