to bisoy and lyndell
Several Valentine's Day past, Bisoy came to the prefect’s room and asked me if I could permit him to go out. A young man of 21 years, asking to go out on a class day and on Valentine's day at that, is anything but routine. I seldom asked for reasons why a person will go out, but the time and date were situations that arouse the curiosity even of the unsuspecting. And so I did what I usually didn’t do, I asked, “why are you going out?” And Bisoy told the truth.
He said he was going on a lunch date for Valentine's Day. Just as I thought! Despite my being a prefect and despite the understanding that prohibits them from maintaining exclusive relationships with the opposite sex, I never had any inkling to interfere and stop the affair. For one, prohibitions such as these are always an exercise in futility. And so I said, “OK you can go.” As he thanked me and as he was about to leave, I gave him my own proposal. I said, “forego of the lunch date and I would bring you to dinner the next day with another seminarian of your choice at Promenade.” He must have thought that the proposal was worth considering for he stopped and remained silent for a while deep in thought, broken only by some negotiating if he could have both. But I did not budge. He had to choose only one – either the lunch date or dinner at Promenade. And so to make the long story short he accepted, and poor Lyndel was exchanged for a dinner at Promenade. Indeed it is true that the shortest way to a seminarian’s heart is to through his stomach!
Little did I know, however, or did I just miss it altogether, that two days later was a Sunday and it so happened that that Sunday was their free day. My victory was short-lived. He got his lunch date that Sunday. Indeed it is also true that the shortest way to a man’s heart is self-interest! I was negotiating not with a lover. I was negotiating with a capitalist. He was not denying something. He was merely delaying it.
Lovers always start that way. It almost always starts with an odd mixture of self-giving and self-interest, a confusing combination of love of the other and self-love, a love with a capitalistic twist which asks questions like “what’s in it for me, what would I gain from all these?”
Everything in our life starts with what we have, everything in our life including love begins with what we have, and what we have is human love, a love that may be less than perfect but a love nonetheless.
When Bisoy came to me one night and asked for an honest assessment whether he could get married, with Lyndel around, I gave him my honest reply – No. When he asked whether he is ready for theology to become a priest, I gave him also an honest reply, No! again with Lyndel around. See how you confused both of us! (Just joking.)
My point is human love is not enough, and that’s the point also of our gospel today – the wedding at Cana – to get married and stay married relying merely with what we have will only end up with what the gospel implies – a failure of provisions - a failure of provisions on the part of the couple – they have no more wine, they ran out of wine . . . because love has remained human and it has not been suffused yet and transformed by divine love. A failure of provisions – and that is where many marriages end up today.
This necessity or provision is not something that you acquire in a parish office, or something that you fulfill in a pre-Cana seminar. It is something that you ask for, something that you beg for, and it is something that cannot be given by any other but Jesus. What we have, human love, must be suffused and even transformed by divine love, by Jesus, in order that it can become married love, a love that perseveres, a love that is faithful, a love that is ever true and loyal, a love that is always forgiving, a love that moves one to willingly and wholeheartedly offer, not just one’s convenience, not just one’s whim, but even one’s life for one’s friend.
When Mary realized that the young couple ran out of wine, she ran to Jesus and said, “Son they have no more wine.” Son, they ran out of provisions. What Mary did was to bring the situation of need to the attention of Jesus, and you know the rest of the story.
When you bring your situation of need, when we bring our failure of provisions to the gaze of Jesus, something happens. Jesus, our wine has run out; Jesus we have no more wine; Jesus our love is not enough . . . our love is not enough for this kind of relationship. Beg Jesus for that, ask him, permit him to see and to know that helplessness.
And then you will see the superabundance of divine love – six stone water jars containing twenty to thirty gallons of water . . . that may be much but that is water, that is what we have, and only Jesus can turn what we have into the sweetest and the best wine – the superabundance of divine love where imperfections become perfect, where the tasteless and bland become sweet and pleasant, where grace becomes illimitable and sufficient and even more than sufficient for every need. Only in Jesus – only in him who showed us what it takes to really love when he was there hanging on the cross for you and me.
I have nothing more to say to you Bisoy. I have said what needs to be said. Just remember what you made me do on your last year in the seminary on that stage in the auditorium, my first and my last as an actor. You gave me a supporting role on a play you and Mark wrote entitled, Some Facts About Bread. You know the meaning of that bread. It was a simple bread which did not remain just a simple bread. It was made into something when brought within the ambit of God’s powerful love. So take what you have, what you both have, and bring it to Jesus and you will realize that it will not remain a simple bread, just as water did not just remain water. It became wine.
I have something else to say to Lyndel though. You are getting married to a play writer, a director and an actor. Be careful! When he graduated from the seminary I forgot to thank you for inheriting my problem. Remember he exchanged you once for dinner at Promenade, although in the end I lost a possibly good priest and almost nine hundred pesos for that dinner. He repays me once in a while by bringing me packs of cigarettes - which to my mind now is his ingenious application of the ancient warning, beware of Greeks bringing gifts. This much however I can say, Bisoy is a good and faithful friend – he has been, and continues to be. Our loss may just be your gain.
P.S. to comfort the future lola (who wanted at least one of her sons to become a priest) - their first son shall be a seminarian!
He said he was going on a lunch date for Valentine's Day. Just as I thought! Despite my being a prefect and despite the understanding that prohibits them from maintaining exclusive relationships with the opposite sex, I never had any inkling to interfere and stop the affair. For one, prohibitions such as these are always an exercise in futility. And so I said, “OK you can go.” As he thanked me and as he was about to leave, I gave him my own proposal. I said, “forego of the lunch date and I would bring you to dinner the next day with another seminarian of your choice at Promenade.” He must have thought that the proposal was worth considering for he stopped and remained silent for a while deep in thought, broken only by some negotiating if he could have both. But I did not budge. He had to choose only one – either the lunch date or dinner at Promenade. And so to make the long story short he accepted, and poor Lyndel was exchanged for a dinner at Promenade. Indeed it is true that the shortest way to a seminarian’s heart is to through his stomach!
Little did I know, however, or did I just miss it altogether, that two days later was a Sunday and it so happened that that Sunday was their free day. My victory was short-lived. He got his lunch date that Sunday. Indeed it is also true that the shortest way to a man’s heart is self-interest! I was negotiating not with a lover. I was negotiating with a capitalist. He was not denying something. He was merely delaying it.
Lovers always start that way. It almost always starts with an odd mixture of self-giving and self-interest, a confusing combination of love of the other and self-love, a love with a capitalistic twist which asks questions like “what’s in it for me, what would I gain from all these?”
Everything in our life starts with what we have, everything in our life including love begins with what we have, and what we have is human love, a love that may be less than perfect but a love nonetheless.
When Bisoy came to me one night and asked for an honest assessment whether he could get married, with Lyndel around, I gave him my honest reply – No. When he asked whether he is ready for theology to become a priest, I gave him also an honest reply, No! again with Lyndel around. See how you confused both of us! (Just joking.)
My point is human love is not enough, and that’s the point also of our gospel today – the wedding at Cana – to get married and stay married relying merely with what we have will only end up with what the gospel implies – a failure of provisions - a failure of provisions on the part of the couple – they have no more wine, they ran out of wine . . . because love has remained human and it has not been suffused yet and transformed by divine love. A failure of provisions – and that is where many marriages end up today.
This necessity or provision is not something that you acquire in a parish office, or something that you fulfill in a pre-Cana seminar. It is something that you ask for, something that you beg for, and it is something that cannot be given by any other but Jesus. What we have, human love, must be suffused and even transformed by divine love, by Jesus, in order that it can become married love, a love that perseveres, a love that is faithful, a love that is ever true and loyal, a love that is always forgiving, a love that moves one to willingly and wholeheartedly offer, not just one’s convenience, not just one’s whim, but even one’s life for one’s friend.
When Mary realized that the young couple ran out of wine, she ran to Jesus and said, “Son they have no more wine.” Son, they ran out of provisions. What Mary did was to bring the situation of need to the attention of Jesus, and you know the rest of the story.
When you bring your situation of need, when we bring our failure of provisions to the gaze of Jesus, something happens. Jesus, our wine has run out; Jesus we have no more wine; Jesus our love is not enough . . . our love is not enough for this kind of relationship. Beg Jesus for that, ask him, permit him to see and to know that helplessness.
And then you will see the superabundance of divine love – six stone water jars containing twenty to thirty gallons of water . . . that may be much but that is water, that is what we have, and only Jesus can turn what we have into the sweetest and the best wine – the superabundance of divine love where imperfections become perfect, where the tasteless and bland become sweet and pleasant, where grace becomes illimitable and sufficient and even more than sufficient for every need. Only in Jesus – only in him who showed us what it takes to really love when he was there hanging on the cross for you and me.
I have nothing more to say to you Bisoy. I have said what needs to be said. Just remember what you made me do on your last year in the seminary on that stage in the auditorium, my first and my last as an actor. You gave me a supporting role on a play you and Mark wrote entitled, Some Facts About Bread. You know the meaning of that bread. It was a simple bread which did not remain just a simple bread. It was made into something when brought within the ambit of God’s powerful love. So take what you have, what you both have, and bring it to Jesus and you will realize that it will not remain a simple bread, just as water did not just remain water. It became wine.
I have something else to say to Lyndel though. You are getting married to a play writer, a director and an actor. Be careful! When he graduated from the seminary I forgot to thank you for inheriting my problem. Remember he exchanged you once for dinner at Promenade, although in the end I lost a possibly good priest and almost nine hundred pesos for that dinner. He repays me once in a while by bringing me packs of cigarettes - which to my mind now is his ingenious application of the ancient warning, beware of Greeks bringing gifts. This much however I can say, Bisoy is a good and faithful friend – he has been, and continues to be. Our loss may just be your gain.
P.S. to comfort the future lola (who wanted at least one of her sons to become a priest) - their first son shall be a seminarian!
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