Pentecost Sunday marks the 50th day after Easter Sunday. It is a big feast for our Church, for our Christian community, for the people of God because it is our seal of quality and authenticity.

 

Most of us look for a note in the products we buy: “Do not accept if seal is broken.” The seal assures us of the quality of the product.

 

When we present official documents, the seal is desired to guarantee the authenticity of the document.

 

We search for seals because we long for authenticity. Pentecost is the mother of all seals and authenticity. The Spirit of the Risen Lord sealed and authenticated the first Christian community that gathered in Jerusalem.

 

Return to basics

 

Pentecost Sunday calls us back to authenticity, a return to basics: who we are as the sons and daughters of the Father, brothers and sisters in Christ; why we exist as a community, and our mission to proclaim that “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.”

 

Viktor Frankl, in his classic work “Man’s Search for Meaning,” pointed out that in the Nazi concentration camps in World War II, those who survived the cruelty and nightmare of the experience were people who felt and believed there was something meaningful that they still wanted to do in their lives. He said it could be as simple as wanting to see a relative or a loved one, or as serious as hoping to complete a research project.

 

Frankl posits that to hope and to live for meaning is an ability unique to the human person.

 

This is also the uniqueness of the early Church. The hope is, “Christ will come again.” The drive and inspiration to proclaim the Cross and Resurrection of Christ come from this hope.

 

Let me suggest the focus on “Christ will come again.” I think we are pretty good on the “Christ has died” and “Christ is risen.” The strong and vibrant devotions in our Church reflect this. One interesting and enlightening perspective was made by the Liberation Theologians three decades ago, that one expression of the Resurrection is the devotion to the Blessed Mother.

 

Complexities

 

Yet the complexities of our times also highlight the lack of what was once the strength of our Church. The many changes within and outside the Church call us to renewal—and I contend, as I also do in other fields, this must come first before reform.

 

Technology, globalization, the information revolution, the fall of communism, the scandals that wracked the Church, we can go on and on. But what is becoming clearer in the midst of this sea of change is the search for a center that will give stability—an anchor that assures us of authenticity, of something to hope for, of a meaning that will help us survive all this.

 

Icons

 

Think of all the things we have witnessed in the past decade or two, when the information and technology revolution ushered in this tsunami of change. Look at the icons of the era.

 

Pope John Paul II captured the hearts and souls of many people and he was loved by the young and restless worldwide despite his dogmatic conservatism.

 

Barack Obama, in his first appearance, seemed like a radical choice for a president. But one must remember that he represented what is perhaps one of the most ancient and fundamental values of the United States, the American Dream.

 

PNoy delivered a simple message, “Kung walang corrupt, walang mahirap (without corruption, there will be no poor),” and this gave him a clear mandate as the new Philippine president. Time and again, despite all the criticisms (which I distinguish from genuine critique) by even the most intelligent of analysts, the message has a power that gives him a fresh mandate not just from our people, but even from the international community. The past senatorial elections—again despite criticisms—gave him another fresh mandate.

 

Pope Francis is the latest among these icons. The name and the simple act of asking for his flock’s blessings and prayers endeared him to a Church in search for renewed hope and meaning amid its many controversies and challenges.

 

These icons all embodied renewed hope as they embodied what is authentic to the human person, simple and unique—the power to hope and to live in hope and meaning.

 

Irony, tension

 

This is the power of our faith. In the midst of human imperfection, there is a promise of future perfection when Christ comes again. This is an irony and a tension we must live with in the day to day.

 

Last Friday, as I was driving to an early morning appointment, there was a Filipino woman, Mercy, residing in Taiwan who was being interviewed on radio. She vividly described the plight of our fellow Filipinos there after the rejection of the President’s apology for the death of a Taiwanese fisherman.

 

There was a part of me that demanded justice, “an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” But another part of me was also inspired to fight evil with good. It was a struggle.

 

It seems the only way the struggle can be resolved is to choose and to act out of love—to concretely care for our Filipino workers affected by the situation, care for their families who in some way also suffer because of the crisis.

 

Then later the same day, a close friend of mine was upset and told me how someone we both know was maligning me again publicly and to people who hardly knew me or the issues this person was talking about.

 

Again, a part of me was hurt, admittedly, and also angered. I must also confess, it did not come automatically to remember and say, “love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.”

 

Struggles

 

After the initial reaction of hurt and anger, the choice was to dismiss the person—who was problematic anyway—with a shrug.

 

These are the struggles we must deal with on a personal and communal or social level, if we are to authentically and thus concretely live in hope that “Christ will come again.” We must build communities that reflect this proleptic presence of the Kingdom of God—communities that care and love, meet hatred and anger, malice and evil with love and understanding.

 

To build communities of love and hope is a choice made on a personal level and lived out in community. It springs from the seal of quality and authenticity of our faith: “Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.”

 

We have been through so much as a Church, nation and people this past Lenten season, the last Holy Week and the concluding Easter Season. Today, we pray that God’s Spirit will seal us as a people, a nation and a church to live a life of quality and authenticity, a life of love and hope. There is no other seal.

 

Come, Spirit of Christ who has died, is risen and will come again.