In a recent formation session we had with public-school principals, supervisors and teachers, one of the groups gave this summary of their report: “Hindi nila (their students) kasalanan na pinanganak silang mahirap, pero kasalanan nila kung mamatay silang mahirap.” (It’s not their fault that they were born poor, but it would be their fault if they are to die poor.)
Coming from our public-school educators, majority of whom had humble beginnings and faced challenges brought on by poverty, this is a testament to the heroic journey they have taken and continue to take.
The Parable of the Talents, this Sunday’s Gospel, reminds us that we are responsible for the blessings we have been given. We are to give an “account” of how we have made use of our blessings.
Project Zero, an educational research group at Harvard founded in the ’60s, under the watch of the eminent scholar Howard Gardner, yielded the following findings from its study. Using the multiple intelligences theory, it discovered that up to age four almost 100 percent of the children had genius-level intelligence. By age 20 this was down to 10 percent and beyond age 20 this further dropped to 2 percent.
The study deserves serious thought, but for now we will reflect on it as this Sunday’s Gospel.
It seems we, as a society, have not been too good at allowing our children, our youth, to nurture and make use of their blessings, the talents they have been given.
We would like to believe that all of us came or, more apt perhaps, were sent into this world with a specific mission, and with this mission is a specific grace, blessing or talent with which we are to live out the mission. If our culture and society—schools, communities, families and other institutions—wean us away from this mission and inherent talent, how can one render a good “accounting”?
Often we have weaned people away from their true selves and have created a very subtle culture for people to conform. While I do not espouse nonconformity—because I believe respect for shared values draws the boundary in which we are to deal with one another—we often stifle people’s ability to discover, to be creative and to be free. In our true selves lie the graces—blessings and talents—we need to fulfill our mission.
There is a prayer from the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius of Loyola which suggests that before Christ Crucified we ask, “What have I done for you? What am I doing for you? What more ought I to do for you?” This is the “accounting” I propose we make.
At different points in our life we do take stock of things and ask these questions: What have we done? What are we doing? What more ought we to do? The other element in this triple “accounting” question, which is of such great import, is the doing “for you.” What have we done, are doing, ought to do for God and for others?
Let me share two stories. One turning point in the story of the Ateneo de Manila was during the student activism days in the ’70s which led to the imposition of Martial Law. As I remember it, some college students were seated outside the Cervini Hall (dormitory) cafeteria. This spot on campus has a majestic view of the Marikina valley.
At that moment they questioned the school’s sapientia et eloquencia. They asked, “Knowledge and eloquence for whom?” From this questioning came the famous essay that appeared on the school newspaper, “Down from the Hill.”
This one moment created tremendous change in the school that influenced generations of young men and women. It defined the ethos of a generation. It is in the service of others, especially those in need, that things make sense and become of value.
The other story is about a top executive. A major crisis hit the company he was leading which resulted in a major displacement in the lives of many. At the outset, he spoke up and issued a very simple statement, whatever it entails, the company would take responsibility for what happened.
In the aftermath of the crisis, this became the clear guiding principle of the company, including its crisis and legal team. Every action the firm made was guided by this simple statement. It was a shining moment for the company.
The crisis brought out the best in everybody.
At one meeting, the lawyers tried to coach the top executive on what to say. Very firmly he shot back, “I will say what I think I should say to be true to what we committed to at the start, that we will take responsibility for the crisis.”
This moment also set the direction the company was to take in the years that followed. It more consciously returned to its founding vision and core values.
One time it was asked how it reconciles the challenges of its industry with its core values. A company executive responded, “We may not seem to always succeed in doing this when people see us, but this much I can guarantee—we struggle with it. So long as we are doing this, struggle to live out our values in the midst of competition, we will be okay.”
These are two stories that illustrate how the freedom to discover and be creative leads us to being our true selves, our authentic self, as some say. It shows how these people did not simply conform. They questioned and in doing so they ushered in a period of renewal.
They did not simply stick to the status quo. Did not simply accept. Did not follow what seemed logical. They questioned. They disagreed. But they believed and acted from their deepest core.
This is the “accounting” we need to render.
What have we done? What are we doing? What more ought we to do?
These are questions we need to ask ourselves. Our answers will give us a glimpse of what we have done with our talents and blessings. What we are doing with them and what more ought we to do. Most important is for whom have we done, are doing and ought to do more?
We are not to be blamed for the situation we inherited or came into. But we will be asked what we have done to make it a bit better when we leave. All of us will render this “accounting.”
It is the wisdom of what the teachers said, “Hindi nila (their students) kasalanan na pinanganak silang mahirap, pero kasalanan nila kung mamatay silang mahirap.”