Two Guiding Stars
On the evening of the Thomasian Welcome Walk, my fellow Centralite
Freshies and I took a paseo around the university, hoping to catch up and take
part in what was left of the Welcome Activities. As we walked around, talked,
laughed and took pictures, I noticed my fellow Centralite freshie, Sem.
Christian Angelo Leopardas, looking up at the night sky in quite a meditative
mood. He then turned to me and remarked, “Isn’t it strange? There aren’t any
stars at all.”
I looked up and I wasn’t surprised with what I saw. Despite the fact that
the clouds had already dissipated, not a single star twinkled at all. I then
explained to Christian that this was Manila after all, where the glare of
metropolitan lights drown out the natural light of the stars in the night. He
still felt strange and uneasy about it, but nonetheless, it made him nostalgic
about his hometown in Leyte where the stars could be seen by the naked eye on
cloudless nights. I could easily relate to him knowing that in my own native
place in Bohol, especially on the islands were there was no electricity in the
evening, even the Milky Way Galaxy was visible in all its glory.
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| St. Francis of Assisi, the Seraphic Father. Founder of the Order of Friars Minor. |
When I was a sixteen-year old just like Christian, I was just like any
other teenager at the advent of the 21st century. Unlike him who had
chosen to follow Christ at such an age, back then I was typically worldly. Occasionally
going to Sunday mass and half-hearted participation in the required religious
activities of our university were just about as religious as I could go. Back
then, I could not see the ‘stars in the night’ because I was enamored by the
artificial lights and excitement the world had to offer. But when I was plunged
into a darkness not even the lights of the world could reach, it was then that
I saw a star shining brightly. The star that showed me the way was none other
than St. Francis of Assisi. After graduating from college and finally
discerning that I had a calling to the priesthood, I immediately joined a
Franciscan order, namely the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate.
The star of St. Francis guided me as I went through the years of
religious formation in a life of prayer, poverty and penance. These were years
of outer and inner silence and constant meditation far from the lights of the
world. I was living, as it were, the hidden life of Nazareth. It was a life permeated
with pure joy and fraternal charity despite the trials and a constant struggle
to faithfully follow the Rule of St. Francis. Despite the peaceful and simple
life that the friary gave me, I began to slowly come to a realization that I
was more attuned to a more active life. Notwithstanding the conflicts that
arose within our institute at that time, a similar tempest was going on in my
soul as I tried to discern whether this was truly the kind of life for me. With
the help of my spiritual director and most especially, the help of another
guiding star, my patron and religious namesake, St. Camillus de Lellis, I
decided to forego the renewal of my simple vows. By the end of my tirocinio, I returned to Bohol and
became a diocesan seminarian.
The four walls of the friary provided safety from the wiles of the world.
By becoming a diocesan seminarian, I had to learn how to live in the world once more and while trying not to become of it. Its glaring lights once more try
to drown the light of the stars which guided me. More often than not, I
succumbed to them due to personal laxity and laziness. But it was in these
times that I was threatened to give in that these stars shown all the more
brightly to show me the way. St. Francis of Assisi led me by the hand once
more. He led me to his dearest friend, St. Dominic. In ways I never thought
possible, I now find myself a freshman studying theology in the Royal and
Pontifical University of Santo Tomas. The
Catholic University of the country run by the black friars of St. Dominic.
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| St. Dominic, Founder of the Order of Preachers and St. Francis of Assisi. Painting by Angelo Lion |
St. Francis and St. Dominic found themselves in a world which was
gradually plunging into avarice and falling into heresy. It was a time where
the spirit of the world was gaining ground in bringing souls away from Christ
due to scandals and the lack of Gospel witnessing of the clergy of the day. As
Dante Alighieri in his Paradiso put
into the lips of St. Thomas Aquinas, he said:
“The Providence that rules the
world with wisdom…
…commanded that there be two
princes,
One on this side, one on that side,
as her [the Church] guides.
One prince was all seraphic in his
ardor;
The other for his wisdom, had
possessed
The splendor of cherubic light on
earth…
In high seas [both] kept the bark
of Peter on true course…[i]
Now, we are facing times when old heresies resurrect and run amok. We
find a world so steeped in gaining profit as to enslave poorer countries to
meet the demands of consumerism of richer nations. We are in a world so bent on
getting pleasure only to lose their humanity in the process.
It is indeed provident that we now have a pope who bears the name of
Francis who has promised to follow in the stead of his namesake. At the same
time, we are at the advent of the 800th anniversary of the
foundation of the Order of Preachers who have remained intact and unswerving in
supporting the Church through their fervent preaching and teaching. It is
indeed a time for us to look into the lives of these great saints who, as Dante
would make St. Bonaventure speak;
“… Side by side they fought, so may
They share in glory and together
gleam..
He then sustained His bride [the
Church],
Providing her with two who could revive
A straggling people: champions who would
By doing and preaching bring new life[ii]
The bark of Peter surges onwards on this sea of turmoil. The Devil is
indeed working hard to make us lose our way. It is indeed but time for us to
look unto the stars, most especially that of St. Francis and St. Dominic to
guide us on our way. We must shun the seducing ‘lights’ of the world grasped by
the devil and even that of careerism and spiritual
worldliness, hiding behind pious appearances only to glorify ourselves. (cf.
no. 93, Evangelii Gaudium) We have to close our eyes to lights of the world and
open them only to the darkness of faith so that we may see the Light. As St. John of the Cross says, it is in dark and pure
faith that we are made to walk through so that we be united with God[iii].
It is only when we open our eyes to dark and pure faith will we be able to
behold the Light more clearly. It is the Light that makes the saints “radiant, as the sky in all its beauty” the
Light that makes them “shine like the
stars for all eternity.”[iv]
But, then what is this Light? Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI says, “Love is
the light—and in the end, the only light—that can always illuminate a world
grown dim and give us the courage needed to keep living and working.”[v]
This Love is none other than God Himself.
“God is love, and he who abides in love abides in God, and God abides in him” (1 Jn 4:16).
We need to bear this Light within us in order that we may not get lost
and consequently, imitating St. Francis and St. Dominic, guide the bark of
Peter in our own little ways towards our destination. We need to look to the stars
of the saints who have gone before us so that we may reach Christ.
As I was mulling these things in my head, something struck me: what if
the time comes that we can’t really see the stars? What if the spirit of the
world comes in all its fury to drown out the light of the saints that we would
be constantly bombarded by false prophets and their ideologies?
Sem. Christian Angelo Leopardas, a 17 yr. old faculty of Philosophy
student, remarked nonchalantly and gave me a very simple answer that night as
we walked around the UST campus, “Even if we can’t see the stars they are still
there. Although they’re hidden, we know that they’re there.”
Not all of us have been gifted with the ability to see invisible,
spiritual realities. We can only speak of these things in analogical or
abstract ways. But knowing and believing that they are there, that the saints lived true historical lives, fought
against temptation, cooperated with God’s grace and allowed themselves to
become vessels of God’s Light only means that we, too, can become like them, and
be guiding stars to others. As students of the Ecclesiastical Faculties — being
future priests, pastors, teachers, superiors of religious institutes and
servant-leaders of the Church — this is something we truly need to ponder and
thus inculcate in our lives.
When our allotted time for paseo was
ending, we returned to the seminary for Night Prayer. When I entered the chapel,
it was as if I beheld the chapel in a new light. The statue of Our Lady of the
Most Holy Rosary struck me, reminding me once more that the Blessed Virgin Mary
was the Queen of the Angels and the Saints, the Lady with the moon under her
feet. On the left side altar was none other than Jesus inside the tabernacle,
the Sun of Justice to whom all the stars of the saints lead to, hidden in the veil
of bread in the Eucharist, enclosed within the darkness of the tabernacle
silently waiting to bestow upon us His grace and give us a blessed sleep
through the night.
After a rather joyful praying of Compline, I went up to my room. When I
opened my window to let the cool evening breeze come in, I hoped that Christian
was also seeing the same thing. Lo and behold, a couple of stars were shining
in the metropolitan night sky.
[i]
Canto XI, Paradiso by Dante Alighieri, translated by Allen Mendelbaum
[ii]
Canto XII, Paradiso by Dante Alighieri, translated by Allen Mendelbaum
[iii]
Cf. No. 5, Chapter 2, The Dark Night of
the Soul by St. John of the Cross
[iv]
Antiphon to the Canticle of Zechariah from the Common of Doctors of the Church,
Liturgy of the Hours
[v]
No. 39, Deus Caritas Est, Pope
Benedict XVI
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