Luke 12:32-48, 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

We, Christians, believe that all of us are blessed. All of us are entrusted with gifts: talents, material wealth/comfort, a kind heart, good health, opportunities, etc. We also believe, as Christians, however, that those gifts are not solely for our sake. They have a for-whom. For the youth among us here, you’re in that stage of opportunity! The opportunity to develop the gifts entrusted to you, to cultivate them. Because later, God will entrust people to your care, the for-whom of the blessings entrusted to us.

What a relief it must be, sisters and brothers, when people who reach the end of their journey can say with full hearts, “Lord, I’m ready. You can now let your servant go in peace (like Zechariah said). I’ve done my part in sharing your blessings with as many people who needed a fair shake in life. You have given all to me (like Ignatius of Loyola said), now I return them. Take me anytime. And as Mary finally said, “do with me as you will.” Ang sarap siguro ng pakiramdam na ‘yon kapag umabot ka na sa dulo ng buhay, at ‘yon ang huli mong buntung-hininga, your last sigh. “If it’s time, Lord, take me.”

But in today’s Gospel, Jesus wasn’t talking about when we reach a ripe old age and ready to go. At an hour we do not expect, in fact, he said, the Son of Man will come. For us, Christians, that has always referred to the day we meet the Messiah, the day we come face to face with God, when it’s “our time.” We can only hope and pray that “our time” be predictable, be timely, so we may prepare for it. Pero sabi nga ni Hesus, the Son of Man will come when we do not expect it, when it might not be timely for us. Any time can mark our final breath.

After seeing too many videos of freak accidents on the road, sisters and brothers (especially those of wayward trucks just running over unsuspecting bystanders), I’ve been extra, extra cautious, to the point of paranoia, when walking and crossing the streets. Ang liit ko pa naman. Hindi ako kita ‘pag nasa tapat ng trak. But forget the trucks. Those motorcycles alone going at full speed. The riders seem to go without much care for anyone, including themselves. So, I was thinking, as long as I have something to do with it, I don’t and won’t risk to take that last breath yet. I’ll be a paranoid-pedestrian. I don’t want it to be my time anytime soon. I’m terrified of death.

That’s because I seriously don’t think I’ve done enough and shared enough of the blessings God has given me, to people God has entrusted to me. Honestly. For quite some time now, sisters and brothers, this has been my mini-crisis. As a priest, how far have I gone, how much have I shared of myself, and to how many? “Not enough,” a voice goes every time. “So, you better keep healthy because you’ve got a ways to go.” My classmates, batchmates, contemporaries? They’re ready to retire. They’ve graduated their kids, grown their businesses, paid an army of employees and made their lives better, endowed foundations for the poor. They’ve actually saved people who needed a hand to save themselves and their families. What have I done visibly, palpably, and sustainably so I may to finally say with a modicum of relief, “My Lord and my God, I have shared it forward”?

There’s another voice, albeit a tiny, tiny one that goes: “Compare and despair, Arnel. Compare and despair. Something is better than nothing. A little more each time is better than no more, no longer, or not at all. More simplicity, so that someone with less may have a little more. Doing it together is happier than going at it alone.” Because it gives me a little comfort and it makes me doubt myself less, I just presume it must be from the Spirit. “Compare and despair. Something is better than nothing. A little more each time is better than no more, no longer, or not at all. More simplicity, so that someone with less may have a little more. Doing it together is happier than going at it alone.” But if it’s really just my own voice giving me a consuelo de bobo, sige na lang. Okay na rin. Puede na.

When I was in my 20s, I often cockily said, “Oh, I can go anytime.” Especially when we were doing our Long Retreat. Thirty days of complete silence and prayer did not bring us to the end of our wits. We felt so close to the Lord and loved by him, it was perfectly okay if our journey ended then and there. But then again, youth has a way of making us go like that: “Oh, I can die anytime. I’m ready.” When I hear a younger Jesuit say that now? I say, “Wait, wait, wait. Wait until you’re 50, or 60, or maybe even 70. And you just might realize how much farther you could’ve gone but went not, how much more you could’ve given and done but gave not and did not, to people God has entrusted to us. Wait until then. And you will know how it feels to beg God for more time.” Like I do every day. Do you, sisters and brothers, feel this way?

I don’t think the Lord is asking any one person in this room, or in the world for that matter, to solve the problem of hunger, or employ all the jobless, or pay the hospital bills of all the penniless ill, or bring peace to the world. But since we’ve been entrusted with blessings including the blessing of time, may we be caught in the act of giving ourselves away to the people God entrusted to us when the Messiah comes. If we happen to be nakaratay na sa banig ng karamdaman, spent, weak, and withered, may it still be because we had given ourselves away for the sake of others. Harinawa, when the hari ng awa does come, even when we can’t believe it’s our time already, the hari ng awa smiles, and with gentle reassurance, says, “It is, dear friend. It is time. Come.”