Singing in Mass

There used to be a time when people dressed UP to go to mass... now, what with the proliferation of mall chapels in Manila, people go to hear mass in mall attire. At best, it's too casual for mass (e.g. branded wife beaters, shorts and slippers). At worst, it shows too much skin for mass (there's a joke about a priest who, instead of saying "The body of Christ" as he held out the host towards a lady showing her generous decolletage, said: "Christ! What a body!").

There used to be a time when the mass was the highlight of Sunday, the main event upon which all other activities are scheduled around. Now we tend to look at the mall's movie schedules first, before selecting the most convenient mass schedule.

There used to be a time when people sang joyfully, out loud, during the mass. Now, most people are content to let the choir do all the singing. But they're missing out on one of the best parts of the mass!

I can no longer count the number of times I've gotten glances and looks from other members of the congregation, presumably on account of my singing with gusto along with the choir.

They say St. Augustine once said, "To sing is to pray twice." As for me, I sing because I can't help it. I sing because it is a way of aligning my mutated, misshapen soul back towards God. I sing because it is a way to get my soul "in tune" with His Will, with the communion of saints both on heaven and on earth.

On Coincidence

I’ve never been on a silent retreat. I’ve always wanted to, but never got the chance. And so it was really wonderful that I got chicken pox this past Christmas break, because it afforded me a great deal of free time, something I’d been longing for immensely. (Note: Don’t get me wrong… I’m not anti-social or anything like that. I just happen to be an introvert, and what it means is, I need to be alone once in a while to recharge. Being with children and students all day is an enjoyable part of my job, but introverts tend to find it draining at times. Hence the need for “alone” time.)

And of course, it was similar to a silent retreat because I was in quarantine and couldn’t talk to anyone as I was “imprisoned” in my room. So basically, I got sick and tired of myself, haha!

I say getting chicken pox was great, because for me, it is evidence that He grants us the innermost desires of our heart. I was yearning for alone time, and I got it! And it was sooo nice to wake up to the singing of the birds outside my window, with the sun gently shining on my face… instead of at 5 a.m., when it’s still dark outside, with the incessant beeping of my phone alarm. It was soooo nice to eat my meals in peace and quiet, with a good book in hand, and take as long as I wanted instead of wolfing down my food to get to my next class on time. I was even able to make a considerable dent in my To-Be-Read book pile! And realized that, even if I didn’t buy books for the next ten years, I still would have plenty of books to read.

Of course, the down side was getting quarantined in my tiny isolation room, and missing out on the season’s get-togethers and naturally, missing the highlight of the holidays (for me): Christmas eve mass!! Where you sing the most beautiful music on earth, together with the congregation. And your voice becomes one with theirs, and it blends and lifts up to Heaven… one big communal, musical offering.

So today being the Feast Day of the Epiphany a.k.a. the last day of the Christmas season, I went to mass and was hardly expecting any Christmas songs to be sung (seeing that none were sung during the New Year’s eve mass).

Lo and behold! Not only did the choir sing Christmas songs all throughout the mass (even during the homily!), they even sang my top three favorites! Lo How A Rose E’er Blooming, What Child Is This and O Holy Night. Lo How A Rose is not a very popular song in the Philippines, so it was really a huge surprise and an unexpected pleasure to sing along to it!

Some might call it coincidence… but I think it’s a sign of Our Father’s love, how He grants even the ‘trivial’ things that bring us so much joy.

And so, the holiday season comes to an end, the carols will no longer be heard, the Starbucks Toffeenut latte will be discontinued… but in the words of a certain poet, NOW is the time that the real work of Christmas begins: with the start of a new year, a challenge to be the answer to somebody’s prayer… everyday. 

2013 in Books

My Life in Books (2013)

Titles in bold are HIGHLY recommended, while italicized titles were ones I found rather disappointing and hardly worth the effort/time/money.

1.      Rules of Civility by Amor Towles

2.      Love and Other Dangerous Chemicals by Anthony Capella

3.     The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barberry

4.       Immanuel’s Veins by Ted Dekker

5.     Ireland by Frank Delaney

6.      The Journal by Henry David Thoreau

7.      The Third Gate by Lincoln Child

8.     Kristin Lavransdatter by Sigrid Undset

9.      The Golden Compass by Philip Pullman

10.  The Virgin Cure by Ami McKay

11.  The Voice That Challenged A Nation: Marian Anderson and the Struggle for Equal Rights by Russell Freedman

12.  Breaking Faith: Can the Catholic Church Save Itself? by John Cornwell

13.  The Sorrows of Young Werther by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

14.Heart-Shaped Box by Joe Hill

15.  Suffer the Little Children by Frances Reilly

16.The Gate to Women’s Country by Sheri S. Tepper

17.  Paris: The Collected Traveler by Barrie Kerper

18.  Savage Beauty: The Life of Edna St. Vincent Millay by Nancy Milford

19.  I’ve Got Your Number by Sophie Kinsella

20.  The Art of Practicing: A Guide to Making Music from the Heart by Madeline Bruser

21.  Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris by Sarah Turnbull

22.  Letters of a Portuguese Nun: Uncovering the Mystery Behind a 17^th Century Forbidden Love by Myriam Cyr

23.The Thread That Runs So True by Jesse Stuart

24.  Teaching Stories: An Anthology on the Power of Learning and Literature by Robert Coles

25.  A Good Man Is Hard To Find and Other Stories by Flannery O’Connor

26.  Star Maker by Olaf Stapledon

27.If I Live to Be 100: Lessons from the Centenarians by Neenah Ellis

28.  The Faith Club by Ranya Idliby

29. Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky

30. Empress by Karen Miller

31. The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris

32.  The Great Transformation: The Beginning of Our Religious Traditions by Karen Armstrong

33.   The Paris Wife by Paula McLain

34.  Manila Noir by Jessica Hagedorn

35.  Longfellow: A Rediscovered Life by Charles C. Calhoun

36.  Two Graves by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child

37.  The Story of A Soul by Saint Therese of Liseux

38.   The Ingredients of Love by Nicolas Barreau

39.  Jerusalem: The Biography by Simon Sebag Montefiore

40. The Various Flavors of Coffee by Anthony Capella

41. The Mauritius Command by Patrick O’Brian

42.  The Battle for God: A History of Fundamentalism by Karen Armstrong

43.   Twitterature: The World’s Greatest Books Retold Through Twitter by Alexander Aciman

44. The Modern Inquisition: Seven Prominent Catholics and Their Struggle With The Vatican by Paul Collins

45. The Most Beautiful Book In The World: Eight Novellas by Eric-Emmanuel Schmitt

46. Venice Is A Fish: A Sensual Guide by Tiziano Scarpa

47. Tales of Wonder: Adventures Chasing the Divine (An Autobiography) by Huston Smith

48. Augustus by John Edward Williams

49. Abigail and John: Portrait of a Marriage by Edith B. Gelles

50. Panic in Level 4 by Robert Preston

51. The Traitor’s Wife by Kathleen Kent

52. Bella Tuscany by Frances Mayes

53. Sister Genevieve: A Courageous Woman's Triumph in Northern Ireland by John Rae

54. The Secret of Lost Things by Sheridan Hay

55. Directing for Theater: A Personal Approach by Edgardo Bengson de la Cruz

56. The Small Rain by Madeleine L'Engle

57. Sake and Satori: Japan (Asian) Journals by Joseph Campbell

Previous Years:

2012 in Books

2011 in Books

2010 in Books

2009 in Books

2008 in Books

2007 in Books

Life's Grace Notes

"My joy is much greater than my tiredness." -- Pope Francis

It has been one super duper hectic week. And yet, in the midst of life's busyness, there is always joy to be found. 

"Grace notes" in music function as ornaments, and are defined as "less important" notes that preempt or anticipate the actual note.

In life, God gives us so many grace notes, instances when we suddenly glimpse a perfection beyond words, His way of showing us slivers of the joy and happiness that we can expect in the heavenly kingdom. Each day sings its song of small grace notes, and we should always be alert so we can catch them. It is as C.S. Lewis said: "To let no bird fly past unnoticed, to spell patiently the stones and weeks, to have the mind in a storehouse of sunset, requires a discipline in pleasure and an education in gratitude."

I am grateful that, as I grow older, I am able to cherish more and more of these grace notes, something I was too rash and impatient to do when I was younger.

This past week's grace notes include seeing the angelic faces of the third graders during their First Communion, the joy of discussing "Ender's Game" with students who identify so closely with the protagonist (while the classic book offers something for everyone, I maintain that the book is truly FOR children), being able to mingle and celebrate the joys of reading amongst fellow readers in the 3rd ReaderCon, the huge blessing of catching the movie of the aforementioned novel in the newly opened cinema fifteen minutes away from our school, and the wonder of being able to rehearse onstage for our school drama club production of ROMEO AND JULIET.

Grace-filled moments, full of anticipation... and how timely, too, now that Christmas is nearly upon us! And how wonderful it was to hear mass earlier, and see that the second candle of the Advent Wreath has been lit! I've brought out my Christmas pieces, and after a year of not playing them, have begun to practice our household favorites so my fingers will be ready for the "grand concert" in our humble sala on Christmas eve (it's tradition! Along with watching Nigella Lawson Christmas specials to make ourselves hungrier for noche buena). 

Here's one of my favorite Christmas songs, not only because it is so beautiful but also because it also happens to be a Marian hymn (Happy Feast of the Immaculate Conception!!). It is sung by the peerless Kathleen Battle:

May we be able to catch all the grace notes that He sends our way!

The Music of Forgiveness

Rembrandt's "The Return of the Prodigal Son"

                                                                         

I am a teacher, but for several years in my youth, I studied music. And once upon a time, I seriously considered it as a career, until I took a Music Practicum Teaching class in college and fell in love with my present vocation. Years later, I am still drawn to music in a very primal way… I even THINK in music, at times!

I associate people with certain types of music… for instance, there’s this special person, my equivalent of Beethoven’s "Unsterbliche Geliebte,” and whenever I think of that person I always seem to hear Schubert’s “Du bist die Ruh” in my head. J (Yes, I’m weird that way.) Or when I’m in a particularly melancholic mood, the 2^nd movement of Beethoven’s 7^th symphony.

or

For my family, I always associate Boccherini’s Minuet from his E Major String Quintet (Op. 11), just because everything is light and cheery whenever I am with them. :)

But for several years now, I’ve been living in fear of a certain person who besmirched my happy memories of college life and forever made me distrustful and wary of men. Whenever I encountered a person who resembled him physically, or just the mention of his name, the opening bars of Beethoven’s 5^th symphony would play in the orchestra of my mind!!

It was only recently that I’ve been able to speak about “the incident” that occurred on Sept. 12, 2006, to others apart from my most intimate friends. Just last week, in our class discussion about Mozart, I spoke about it to my senior high school students with the goal of warning them not to be so trusting and naïve when they go to college. I also mentioned that I found it very hard to forgive this person because no apology was ever made, and that the incident was even swept under the rug by the institution I belonged to, at the time. “But whenever I hear this melody by Mozart, I find myself closer to being able to forgive,” I said, and proceeded to let them hear two minutes of some of the most exquisite music ever written, “the music of God’s absolution,” according to Salieri in the movie Amadeus. Truly, “Contessa, perdono” is the voice of God.

In her reaction paper, one of my students expressed her outrage at what had happened to me. She also encouraged me to forgive, not for his sake, but for my own mental health. And because of Mark 11:25.

And finally, finally… I have forgiven. It took seven years, but at last, it is done. For he has passed away, you see. And in death, there is new life.

I was thinking that for several years, I’d been yearning for some sort of ‘closure,’ the one we’ve been taught to expect from watching Hollywood movies with happy endings, or ones where people receive the consequences of their actions. But now I realize that, from a Christian point of view, there is no closure in the human sense, for if one believes in eternal life and in the communion of saints, then it is very clear that our actions in this world will reverberate in the next. And we shall all see each other, at the end of time, in a better place, when we are our better selves after having been purified and made better in this “valley of soul-making.”

So, thank you, Mozart. And thanks to the person who bade me forgive at a time when I found it impossible to do so. And now I have. And now my soul is truly free.

On Death and Fear

"The Scream" by Edvard Munch

These past few days have been utter bliss! I’m getting 8-9 hours of sleep each night, a rare luxury! And it’s SUCH a blessing to be able to continue reading that page-turner until past 9:30 p.m., to spend more time playing with our three romping rottweilers (who are too darn GIGANTIC nowadays to be called “puppies” any longer), to savor a cup of coffee and chocolate Belgian waffles with former students.

Even more luxurious, we got to spend some time at the beach during our faculty outing last weekend! However, I confess I didn’t get to go in the water at all because of two reasons: 1) I couldn’t put down my Patrick O’Brian books (a nautical theme to match the setting!), and 2) of fear. Specifically, I was afraid that the jellyfish and sharks would get me.

You see, that morning, a baby shark had been caught swimming near the shore, and one of my co-teachers also got attacked by jellyfish. Having survived a jellyfish attack myself, which occurred while snorkeling two years ago, I knew how painful and potentially dangerous another attack could be, especially when swimming in deep waters! So I was in no hurry to experience it anew. However, I DO regret passing up the chance to go cliff-diving with my siblings and some co-teachers.

“Put those books down and get in the water!” they said. It occurs to me now that I SHOULD have. I’ve been looking at it the wrong way. Not just because of the experience of exposing oneself to surf and sun (and sharks and other nasty sea creatures), but because the water is a metaphor for life itself. I passed up an opportunity to live my life more fully.

Yet another great Filipino passed away recently. THE F. Landa Jocano, the foremost anthropologist of our nation, author and a great educator besides, has gone on to a better place. He was a former teacher of our dad’s, and so my sister and I paid our respects at his wake. It was a solemn occasion, but I couldn’t help but reflect how wonderful it was to live out such a meaningful life! For as we gazed about the room, we saw joy, love, laughter and LIFE all around. We saw his beautiful family, his amazing son, his daughter, his grandson… we saw so many others like us who went to the wake of a great man who may not have accumulated a great deal of material wealth, but left behind something far better for his family: the legacy of a great name.

And with it being All Saints’ Day tomorrow (and All Souls’ day the day after), it is the great annual tradition of UNDAS for Filipinos, the time when families go back home to their provinces to hold grand family reunions over the graves of their loved ones. Cemeteries are filled to the brim with overnighters who feast, drink and often gamble while remembering their dearly departed. And while I may not personally agree with the practice of what (I think) is too much and unseemly merrymaking, I do agree with the idea behind it: that the way to face death is to celebrate life. That the best way to honor our dead is to live honorable, meaningful lives.

Tonight, as we were feeding our three romping rotties their dinner, we got approached by several neighbor’s kids in costume: “Trick or treat!” We apologized for our lack of candy, and thankfully our three huge rottweilers looked menacing enough that they didn’t pressure us any further. J But how do you say to your neighbor that this house’s inhabitants don’t believe in the Western foreign practice of Halloween?

Perhaps I’ll feel differently about Halloween when I have a child of my own. Dressing him/her up would be great fun, I imagine! But even then, I wouldn’t dress him/her up as a monster or fantastical creature. If she was a girl, I’d dress her up as Gabriela Silang. If a boy, as Macario Sakay or Andres Bonifacio (no Emilio Aguinaldo for me, thank you!). Heroes for their country… or perhaps, heroes for other people’s souls. But then again, walking around the village at night is no longer safe these days, so maybe we’ll just take pictures of each other in costume and have our family dinner and obligatory candy fest in the safety of our home.

Wouldn’t it be better to focus on the Feast of All Saints (and All Souls’)? It’s really worthwhile to pause and reflect on how much we owe the martyrs of the past. I think one of the most beautiful teachings of the Catholic faith is the Communion of Saints, of how the church triumphant in Heaven can continue to have a huge impact on the church militant on earth. It gives us comfort and hope to know that our departed loved ones continue to pray and watch over us, that we can communicate our love for them through prayer and make them proud with the way we live our lives.

And so, here’s wishing everyone a blessed All Saints’, and All Souls’! And may our lives be filled with more happiness and chocolate (yes, I firmly believe there is a direct correlation between the two!).

Baclayon, Bohol

Image source: adventuroj.com

There are few sights I shall never forget. One is the wonder that was Baclayon Church, Bohol, which I was lucky enough to visit after a seminar in Tagbilaran, two years ago. I can still remember the utter smallness I felt when I beheld its soaring arches as I entered into its dim interior, which made the sunlight streaming in its windows all the more dramatic. Centuries had not diminished its grandeur… not the flashy, gaudy kind in some modern churches in wealthy neighborhoods in Metro Manila where, as my dad puts it, “Jesus wears an Americana,” with their spotless, nigh-near-sterile white domed palaces and gold-plated decorations. But the grandeur of old churches like Baclayon comes from its sheer majesty, from their mere existence after centuries of storms and punishing tropical weather. Imagine… a place that was built in 1595! It boggles the mind!

Grand old churches and cathedrals, “places between heaven and earth,” inspire awe in us not just because of the visual and sensual feast they provide, but because of what they stand for. They are the work of generations. Throughout the years, the workers toiled unceasingly as they cut stone and laid them lovingly onto places so high that no mortal man would ever see them again. But then, these workers didn’t mind. They knew that their labor was for the sight of God. Their perfect bricks and tiles were their loving prayers, their offerings borne out of love and toil, blood and sweat. Each man knew he wouldn’t live to see the finished result of this labor of love, but worked hard all the same, knowing that his children and children’s children would be baptized under the roof of his labors, would be married before the sacred altar he lovingly crafted.

I thought those thoughts as I quietly meandered from one end of Baclayon to another, envious of the lucky Boholanos who could pray and visit this historic monument, this place that seemed to make souls bigger simply by one’s entering. The idea that this historic church is now nothing more than a pile of rubble is heartbreaking!

The other sight I cannot ever, ever erase from my memory is the sight of our family’s favorite priest overcome with emotions, weeping in front of the congregation during today’s homily. You see, he hails from Tagbilaran, Bohol. And this past week, Bohol was one of the hardest hit areas in a devastatingly powerful earthquake (with a magnitude of 7.2) that not only claimed hundreds of lives, but also destroyed national heritage churches like Baclayon. Apart from being known for being a musical province, Bohol is also famous for its old churches. Boholanos IDENTIFY themselves with their churches! Their loss is a terrible psychic scar, comparable to what the Jews felt upon the destruction of Solomon’s temple.

I can’t forget how Father Ted had to pause several times, to collect himself, but tears streaked down his face all the same as he recounted the damage his hometown had endured. “Churches that took generations to build… all gone in 30 seconds,” he lamented. People have lost their homes, centuries old buildings are reduced to mere rubble, and they lack even drinking water and food. The homeless are sleeping beneath the ruins of their old churches, simply because they have no other place to go.

He appealed to us for help, of course, but he did it in a very powerful way, not from a position of weakness, but from strength. He was confident that fellow Filipinos would come to the aid of fellow Filipino, and reminded us that faith is not identified with orthodoxy, but with orthopraxy: faith is made manifest in action.

I remember seeing Father Ted on TV on the fateful day of the earthquake. One of the news reporters asked him: “Father, has this terrible incident made you lose faith?”

“Of course not!” Father Ted said, “It has increased it.”

And in his homily today, he reiterated his message: “We have faith in our countrymen, in Bohol. God has given us this opportunity to arise from the ashes like a phoenix, to come together to rebuild His church. And just like in today’s homily (Luke 18:1-8), we are asked: But when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth? Oh, when he comes to Bohol, he will… he truly will. He will find Bohol overflowing with faith.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For those who are interested in helping Bohol directly, here are some numbers and contact information that you might find useful. They are from Father Ted, the musical priest from Bohol, whose weekly sermons give strength and guidance to so many.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELIEF SERVICES, FOOD, WATER, AND CLOTHING:

Metrobank-Tagbilaran Branch

Account Name: Social Action Center- Diocese of Tagbilaran

Account Number: 712-3-712-04324-6

FOR THE REHABILITATION / RESTORATION OF CHURCHES:

Metrobank Account Name: The Roman Catholic Bishop of Tagbilaran

Account Number: 123-3-123-51030-6

Donations through “Kwarta Padala” are welcome. Please address them to Fr. Valentino U. Pinlac, Director of the Pastoral Program of the Diocese of Tagbilaran)

M-Lhuiller-Tagbilaran 1 & 2 Branches

Cebuana Tagbilaran Branch