God’s gifts to the shaken
Two men are on my list of icons; men I never met but read a lot about, men who make a difference.
One is Nelson Mandela, whose funeral, attended by world leaders and covered extensively by media, signified his impact when he was alive, and will, as African speakers described him, live forever in their hearts and minds.
I first learned about the ignominious effects of apartheid when I was doing a paper for a graduate course in sociology decades ago under Mary Hollnsteiner at the Ateneo. How a man like Mandela led the South Africans’ struggle against racism under white-man rule, is a story worth retelling till the end of time. That he was jailed for 27 years and became the first black president of South Africa is an unparalleled story.
Among the traits eulogists ascribed to him were his humility and compassionate heart, his forgiving those who had oppressed his people; his rule was to forget the past hurts and move forward.
An amazing, living icon is Pope Francis. I am an evangelical Christian overwhelmed by the humility of this figure leading billions of Roman Catholics. He is a man for others, a man shunning extravagant lifestyles, choosing to live in a simple building for priests; a man like Jesus who washed ordinary people’s feet; who wore jeans and rode in public buses. He shakes his flock by saying let’s not dwell on such controversial concerns as homosexuality and reproductive health; let us focus our attention on the poor.
With his warmth and compassionate spirit, it comes as no surprise that Time magazine has voted him its 2013 Man of the Year.
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This Christmas season is the best time to demonstrate generosity , compassionate, and love for others. I am thinking of former President Arroyo, who has been in confinement at the Veterans Memorial Hospital for a severe spinal dysfunction. Because she is in detention for charges of plunder, she is kept under close guard, and can stay out in the sun for only one hour a day. There is no television in the room; nor is she allowed to use a cellphone. Visitors are screened and could stay only briefly. Even her husband is not allowed to sleep in her room.
A request has been made to allow her to spend Christmas in her home, to be with her family, but we are told the request has not been granted. As a humanitarian gesture, she should be allowed to experience the joys of the Season, a season of cheer, love, compassion.
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The world honors heroes — men and women, even youths, who have sacrificed their lives, given their time and resources to come to the rescue of victims of calamities of such unimaginable magnitude as Super Typhoon Yolanda that wiped out communities, killed thousands, and rendered residents homeless.
Our appreciation is unbounded: for countries that have quickly brought over relief goods for the victims, for the material and cash gifts given by civic and religious organizations, office employees, and students.
It’s a month since Yolanda struck. Rehabilitation has just begun; structures have risen from the mud. Government and private planners and the residents have begun to rebuild shattered, vanished communities. The reconstruction of shattered dreams and visions has is taking place in hearts and in spirits. With everyone giving a helping hand, God is in heaven, all will be right with the world.
My friend, Priscilla Lasmaras Kelso of Newtonville, Mass., sent us her reflection on the destruction wrought by Yolanda. I am taking the liberty of sharing her beautiful, touching reflection.
Advent’s Long Road
By Priscilla Lasmarias Kelso
“I learn by going where I have to go.â€â€¨â€” Theodore Roethke
“When was it ever a perfect time to prepare for Advent?
“The road to Bethlehem was long for Mary, looking for a place to birth her child in the most ungracious of surroundings.
“The journey of the magi was long and arduous, with unscheduled interruptions, inclement weather, and even some doubts as to the final outcome of following the star.
“This year the road to Advent for me is fraught with grief over the thousands who died in a killer storm that destroyed a region of the Philippines, which is my home. The magnitude of this disaster is hard to comprehend. Why the Philippines? Because, according to an MIT meteorologist, the country has the warmest deep ocean in the planet which spawns monster storms. But why the poor? Why were the impoverished families of fisherfolk who lived by the sea swept away by the storm surge?
“Perhaps Mary also asked why she had to take on such a difficult role in the salvation story. ‘And a sword will pierce your soul.’ (Luke 2:35 ) Perhaps the three kings, in search of the Christ child, sensed, with foreboding, Herod’s evil intent to slaughter innocent babies in his lust for power. Perhaps killer storms leave people like me reeling from the onslaught of nature ‘red in tooth and claw.’ How does one find meaning in randomness?
“This obviously is no Hallmark greeting card reflection. In a season when merriment is the norm, the Philippine disaster goes against the grain of fa-la-la-la-la. I did not plan on this interruption. My holiday calendar, until a week ago when the storm struck, was already starting to fill up with Christmas cheer.
“Yet this catastrophic event is making me pay attention this year, more than any other time. I am paying attention to Simone Weil’s statement: ‘Two things break the human heart — beauty and affliction.’ This week, I comforted a Filipino friend who had not heard from her family — located in the epicenter of the storm — and who did not know if they were still alive. As I held the phone to my ear, I happened to look out of my kitchen window and saw the most breath-taking sunset in the autumn sky. The tears came. How can such beauty coincide with such bad news? Is this ‘the irrational season’ that Madeleine L’Engle refers to?
“In an inexplicable way, I feel more humbled this Advent season, perhaps because my heart has been broken. I will still wrap presents, sing carols, look at Christmas lights, but with a different heartbeat. Because halfway across the world, in a cluster of islands, a cyclone from hell has knocked me off my comfort zone, even threatened to unhinge my illusions of safety. But that’s not all bad. This Advent is teaching me to cling closer to God, to Jesus . . . the rock, the hiding place, the ultimate shelter in times of desolation and chaos.
“In this Advent’s difficult path towards God’s blessing, like Mary and those who searched for the Christ child, ‘I learn by going where I have to go.’’
Priscilla Lasmarias Kelso, a university professor and a consultant for international programs, is a Silliman University Outstanding Sillimanian awardee. She did her graduate work in English and American Literature at Stanford University on the theme of the fall and redemption in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s novels. Her two-track career has also taken her to seven countries in her work with international education. She is currently retired with her husband, Bart, a Presbyterian minister. Over the years, they have nurtured a cross-cultural marriage and grown many gardens.
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