Second Sunday of Advent [December 9, 2018] Luke 3:1-6
During my ordination, Archbishop Socrates Villegas of Lingayen-Dagupan asked this question to us who would receive the sacred order, “Are you weak enough?” The question was mind-blogging and unexpected because often we have strength, power, and talents as our favorite subjects, and even obsession. We like to show to the world that we are achievers and conquerors. We parade our good education, high-earning job, or a beautiful face. The ‘superior’ mentality does not only affect the lay people traversing in the ordinary world, but also people dressed in white walking through the corridors of the Church. The clergy, as well as religious men and women, are not immune to this hunger for approval and sense of worthiness.
I have to admit also that our formation in the religious life is colored with this kind of ‘spirit.’ The study is important in our Dominican tradition, and we are struggling to meet the academic demands of philosophy and theology. Those who are excelling are honored, but those who are falling, are facing expulsion. Prayer and community life are basic in our spirituality, and we are living to meet the expectations in the seminary or convent, like regular prayers and various community activities. Those who meet the standards may pass the evaluation for ordination or religious profession, but those who are often late or absent, are deemed to have no vocation. Preaching is our name, and we give our all in our ministries. Those who are successful in their apostolate are exemplary, but those who are not able to deliver a good speech may wonder whether they are in the Order or ‘out of order.’
The ordination is for the worthy ones, meaning for those who ace all the requirements. However, the good archbishop reminds us that relying too much on our strength and goodness, we may hamper the work of God in us. When we become too handsome, the people begin focusing on us, rather than the beauty of the liturgy. When we preach too brilliantly, the people start admiring us rather than the Truth of the Word. When we teach too brightly, we outshine the Wisdom made flesh. We forget that all power and talents we have, belong to God, not ours. What we have, are weaknesses.
However, it is only in our weakness that God’s strength is shining brightly. He called Moses who was a murderer and a fugitive, to liberate Israel from the slavery. He called Jonah, a reluctant prophet, to save Nineveh. He chose Simon Peter, who betrayed Jesus, to be the leader of His Church. He appointed Paul, the Pharisee and the persecutor of Christians, to be the greatest apostle. He elected Mary, a poor and insignificant young woman, to be the mother of God.
Are we weak enough to allow God’s strength working in us? Are we enough to allow God’s beauty shining through us? Are we weak enough to let other people see God’s wisdom in us? Are we strong enough to admit that we are weak?
Deacon Valentinus Bayuhadi Ruseno, OP
Saat pentahbisan saya, Uskup Agung Socrates Villegas dari Lingayen-Dagupan bertanya kepada saya, “Apakah kamu cukup lemah?” Pertanyaannya tidak terduga dan bahkan membalikan nalar karena sering kita merasa bahwa kekuatan dan talenta yang kita miliki adalah hal yang penting dalam hidup kita, dan menunjukan siapa diri kita sesungguhnya sebagai milik kita. Kita ingin menunjukkan kepada dunia bahwa kita adalah orang yang berprestasi. Kita memamerkan bahwa kita memiliki pendidikan yang baik, pekerjaan yang berpenghasilan tinggi, atau rupa yang cantik. Mental ‘superior’ ini tidak hanya mempengaruhi orang awam yang bergulat dalam kehidupan sehari-hari, tetapi juga orang-orang berjubah yang putih berjalan di koridor Gereja. Para klerus, serta biarawan dan biarawati, tidaklah kebal terhadap hasrat untuk mendapatkan persetujuan dan rasa kelayakan.
I have been in the Dominican formation for more than 12 years, and if I add four years of my minor seminary formation in Indonesia, it stretches to 16 years! It is insanely long that it occupies a more than half of my life. If we believe that everything has a purpose, I can ask myself, “what is the point of this extremely lengthy formation?” Why should I stay through thick and thin of formation life, through hours of assiduous study, through various programs, through daily rigor of prayer life?
When I was assigned to the hospital to serve as a chaplain, I witnessed the rise of diabetic cases as well as its terrifying effects on the patients. In simple term, diabetes is a condition in a person who can no longer naturally manage their blood sugar. In more serious cases, the body loses its natural ability to heal its wounds. In the beginning, it was a small open wound, yet since the body no longer heals, the infections set in, and this leads into gangrene or the death of the body’s tissues. I accompanied some patients who were struggling with this situation and witnessed how their fingers or even foot were darkened and deformed. When the ordinary treatment no longer worked, the amputation became the only merciful option as to prevent the spread of infections. As a chaplain, accompanying these patients was one of my toughest missions in the hospital.
Ketika saya bertugas pelayanan di rumah sakit di Manila, saya menyadari bahwa kasus diabetes berkembang secara pesat, dan juga efeknya yang menakutkan bagi para pasien. Secara sederhana, diabetes adalah suatu kondisi pada seseorang yang tidak lagi dapat secara alami mengelola gula darahnya. Dalam kasus yang lebih serius, tubuh kehilangan kemampuan alami untuk menyembuhkan luka-lukanya. Pada awalnya adalah luka yang kecil, namun karena tubuh tidak lagi bisa meyembuhkan, infeksi-infeksi pun berkembang, dan ini mengarah pada gangren atau kematian jaringan-jaringan tubuh. Saya menemani beberapa pasien yang bergulat dengan situasi ini, dan menyaksikan bagaimana jari atau bahkan kaki mereka menghitam dan berubah bentuk. Ketika pengobatan biasa tidak lagi bekerja, amputasi menjadi satu-satunya pilihan untuk mencegah penyebaran infeksi. Sebagai seorang frater yang bertugas di rumah sakit, mendampingi pasien-pasien ini adalah salah satu misi terberat saya di rumah sakit.
Several years ago, I gave a talk on the introduction to Christology to a group of young Filipino professionals who wished to deepen their spirituality. The first question I asked them as we commenced the short course was, “Who do you say that Jesus is?” The answers were varied. Some gave a dogmatic formula like Jesus is God, one quoted the Bible saying Jesus is the Word made flesh, one expressed boldly that Jesus is Savior and Lord, and the rest shared personal convictions like Jesus is their closest friend, or Jesus is their Shepherd. All these answers were right, but nobody claimed that Jesus is the Christ. Considering that our subject was Christology, we missed the basic Jesus’ title, in Greek, “Christos,” in Hebrew, “Messiah,” and translated into English, the Anointed One. Fortunately, around two thousand years ago, Simon Peter was able to spell the title when Jesus Himself asked the question.
Beberapa tahun yang lalu, saya memberikan ceramah pengantar Kristologi bagi sekelompok profesional muda Filipina yang ingin memperdalam spiritualitas mereka. Pertanyaan pertama yang saya tanyakan kepada mereka adalah, “Menurut kamu, siapakah Yesus itu?” Jawabannya beragam. Beberapa memberikan formula dogmatis seperti Yesus adalah Allah, ada yang mengutip Alkitab dan mengatakan Yesus adalah Firman yang menjadi daging, seseorang menyatakan dengan berani bahwa Yesus adalah Juruselamat dan Tuhan, dan sisanya berbagi keyakinan pribadi seperti Yesus adalah sahabat terdekat mereka, atau Yesus adalah Gembala mereka. Semua jawaban ini benar, tetapi tidak ada yang mengklaim bahwa Yesus adalah Kristus. Mempertimbangkan bahwa ceramah kami adalah Kristologi, kami sepertinya lupa akan identitas dasar Yesus, dalam bahasa Yunani, “Christos,” dalam bahasa Ibrani, “Mesias,” yang berarti “Yang Diurapi”. Untungnya, sekitar dua ribu tahun yang lalu, Simon Petrus mampu mengucapkan identitas dasar ini ketika Yesus Sendiri menanyakan pertanyaan ini.
In today’s Gospel, Jesus seems to denounce all traditions. However, this position is rather simplistic and unattainable. The reason is that human beings are the creatures of traditions. Tradition comes from Latin word, “tradere”, meaning “to hand down”. Thus, crudely put, tradition is anything that has been handed down from our predecessors. Traditions range from something tangible like technologies and fashions, to something intangible like values, languages, sciences and many more. I remember how my mother taught me basic Christian prayers, like Our Father, Hail Mary, and the Rosary, and how my father would regularly bring us to the Church every Sunday. This is my family’s religious traditions. As an Indonesian living in the Philippines, I appreciate the “Mano Po” tradition among the Filipinos. This is a simple gesture of respect and blessing. The younger Filipinos are to hold a hand of older Filipino, and place it on their forehead.
Dalam Injil hari ini, Yesus tampaknya menolak semua tradisi. Namun, pernyataan ini terlalu disederhanakan. Alasannya adalah bahwa manusia adalah makhluk tradisi. Tradisi berasal dari kata Latin, “tradere”, yang berarti “menurunkan”. Jadi, secara sederhana, tradisi adalah segala sesuatu yang telah diturunkan atau diwariskan dari para pendahulu kita. Tradisi berkisar dari sesuatu yang berwujud seperti teknologi, hingga sesuatu yang tidak berwujud seperti bahasa, ilmu pengetahuan, dan banyak lagi. Saya ingat bagaimana ibu saya mengajarkan saya doa-doa dasar, seperti Bapa Kami, Salam Maria, dan Rosario, dan bagaimana ayah saya secara teratur membawa kami ke Gereja setiap Minggu. Ini adalah tradisi agama keluarga saya. Sebagai orang Indonesia yang tinggal di Filipina, saya mengapresiasi tradisi “Pano Po” di antara orang Filipina. Ini adalah sikap menghormati orang yang lebih tua dan juga memberi berkat kepada yang lebih muda. Orang Filipina yang lebih muda akan memegang tangan mereka yang lebih tua, dan meletakkannya di dahi mereka.
In Medio Ecclesiae 