There is a story from the late Fr. Anthony de Mello, SJ, about friendship and devotion.
There were two soldiers, Joe and Carl, who were close friends. It was war time and they were in one company engaged in an encounter. Outnumbered and as they started to suffer heavy casualties, the commander ordered a retreat.
When the company got to safe ground, Joe noticed his friend, Carl, was not with them. He went to the commander and asked permission to go back to look for Carl. The commander disapproved, saying that under heavy fire of the enemy, Carl would surely be killed. He told Joe they would recover the bodies when it was safer to do so.
Joe apologized before he disobeyed the order and ran back to the battlefield.
Minutes later he came back carrying Carl’s dead body. As he put down Carl’s body, the company saw that Joe himself was badly wounded now. The commander furiously told Joe, “I told you he would have been killed in the firefight. You foolishly endangered yourself, and now I risk losing another man. What a waste, Joe!”
Joe, now fighting for his own life, calmly told the commander, “Sir, it was not a waste. When I got to Carl he was still alive. I held him up and propped him on my lap telling him to hold on. He gasped for breath, he smiled, and his last and only words were, ‘Joe, I knew you would come.’”
“I knew you would come.” These simple words convey the meaning of one of the deepest graces of our faith and our hope. We know God will always be there for us.
Miracle
This Sunday’s Gospel, the Multiplication of the Loaves and Fish in Matthew, shows us how Jesus, who was undergoing so much inner struggle—John the Baptist had just died and Jesus himself was beginning to sense his impending death—selflessly set aside his needs and plans out of compassion for others. He had wanted to rest and pray in a deserted place, but when he saw the crowds that had followed, yearning for his cure, the Gospel tells us “his heart was moved with pity for them.” There upon he sets aside his personal plans and needs and started to minister to them out of love and compassion.
This is now the setting for the miracle of the multiplication, a setting permeated by a sense of love and compassion. As Jesus responded to the needs of the multitudes, he filled the place with his deep sense of love and compassion. When the time came to attend to the other bodily needs—hunger and thirst—the crowds were ready for the miracle. Jesus’ love and compassion had nurtured them to be fertile ground for a miracle.
The account tells us that after he asked for the meager five loaves and two fish, Jesus blessed, broke and gave them away. Then the setting was completed and the miracle took place.
One of the interpretations of this account is that the real miracle was that Jesus was able to touch the heart and soul of the people with him so that those who had some food became generous enough to share, and because they shared, not only did all have enough to eat, but there was even a surplus of 12 wicker baskets of food. From five loaves and two fish they ended up with 12 baskets.
If there is one thing this story—the prefiguring of the Eucharist, the Mass—tells us, it is about the power of love and compassion. Love conquers all, because the first thing it conquers is the self, transforming it from being self-centered into being other-centered. This is the fertile ground that nurtures greater love and compassion. Once selfless, we are ready to offer all in love and compassion for God and others.
Mass
The Mass is the special moment Jesus gave us to remember the love and compassion He and His Father have for us, and as we remember, we bring this love and compassion into our own life and into the lives of others. One favorite acclamation of the mystery of our faith after consecration captures the grace of the Mass so beautifully:
We remember how you loved us to your death
And still we celebrate for you are with us here
And we believe that we will see you
When you come in your glory, Lord
We remember, we celebrate, we believe
This is the wonderful grace of the Mass, a graced moment of remembering when we remember and keep alive in our heart and soul the many experiences of love and compassion in our life. The remembering leads us to gratitude and out of gratitude we celebrate God’s presence, His providence, His loving providential presence in our life. Out of this grateful celebration we commit, or recommit, in faith.
We believe in God’s love and compassion for us, always lovingly providentially present, and our heart and soul become fertile ground for us to “break and give,” to share with others our own love and compassion.
This is the wonderful moment when we are able to say in the depths of our heart and soul, “Joe, I knew you would come.” We know God is always there, lovingly providential. When we need Him most, in our poverty and want, He works his miracle of love and compassion.
Postscript: Pardon the persistence (translated: kakulitan)—this is a reminder of the grace of Edsa 1. Edsa 1 was a moment of remembering, celebrating and believing. It is a grace given not just once, not just twice, but forever.
It was a moment when we as a people remembered who we are and what we valued. We valued our freedom. We valued our democracy. We valued our youth whose future we fought for at Edsa 1. We remembered we were a people who had struggled for freedom; freedom from the Spaniards, the Americans, the Japanese, and at Edsa 1 freedom from tyranny and bondage.
Now comes the greatest battle for freedom, the freedom from hunger, sickness, ignorance, and a sense of victimhood. Food security, basic healthcare and basic education for the great majority of our people remain tasks to be done. Creating a system where anyone can dream and strive to have a better life is possible, thus freeing a great majority of our people from the bondage of victimhood and a sense of hopelessness.
If we share whatever we have, no matter how little, the miracle will surely happen again.
We are called to share again as a people. We are called to remember, to celebrate, and to believe. We are called to create a society of love and compassion where everyone lives with the hope that no matter what happens we live in faith saying deep in our heart and soul, “Joe, I knew you would come.”
