"Come to Serve" - A Reflection for the 29th Sunday of Ordinary Time - Year B

Although I try to stay clear of the scholarly approach, my reflections, however, are often "homily oriented." Today, for this beautiful Gospel from St. Mark, I wish to share a much more personal reflection of one who seeks the vocation to life of service in Christ Jesus.

 “For the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”

To the Blessed Mother,

Mother of All the Poor and the Oppressed

To My Mother

Who from My Early Childhood

Has Infused Me with Love for the Poor

And, to All My Brothers and Sisters

Who Have No Voice,

I Will Be Your Voice.

After all,

“For You I Study, For you I Work,

 For You I live,

For You I Am Willing to Give My Life.”

St. John Bosco

These are the words of dedication that I put in my under-grad thesis at St. John Vianney College Seminary. They reflect my deepest desire to give myself to serve the Lord in the poor, the destitute, the outcast, and the vulnerable. However, just as it took James and John a long journey that ended up in many trials and suffering to learn what it meant to drink the cup that Christ drank, so it did me to recognize the meaning of my “yes” to the Lord…

As a teenager, briefly after my returning to the Church, I became very interested in the priesthood. The intention wasn’t as noble as one would expect it to be. The truth was I had been watching videos of Pope John Paul II making Cardinals. Seeing how awe-striking and impressive those Cardinals were, so, the 15 year-old Martin proudly said, “I, too, want to be a Cardinal.”

No matter how silly and ignorant that statement was, it was the start of a wonderful lesson of service the Lord had prepared for me.

I entered the seminary as the youngest in the house. Admittedly, I wasn’t the most humble seminarian there was. Not that I was obnoxiously proud. However, I enjoyed attention and sought to impress both my superiors and my peers. After all, I was only 17 and was quite still immature.

As I continue journeying on this path of Vocation, I was privileged to encounter many people from different states and statuses of life. I was assigned to several different works. It was then that I slowly found myself increasingly becoming more and more attracted towards those who were underprivileged, who were oppressed, who were poor, and most especially, those who were vulnerable and were with disabilities.

What changed?

I cannot be sure.

Perhaps, the many trials and difficulties that God has allowed me to go through was a great contributing factor. But, there ought to be more than that, it is a grace – a seed planted by the Divine in my heart.

Whatever the case is, I feel so much more connected with these folks and serving them brings me more joy than any compliments or praises I have ever received. I am most content when I am among those whom society often overlooks and neglects.

For the first time, I came to understand what St. Paul meant when he said, “I have become all things for all people, so that I may at least save some” (1 Cor. 9:22). To the homeless, I have become like one among them (as once, one of my seminarian brothers pointed out that I smelled like a homeless person after I returned from my pastoral work). To the deaf, I have become like a deaf person in seeking to learn their language and emerge into their culture. To the mentally handicapped, I have played with them and joked with them as one of them (so much so that one of them actually thought I belonged to the institution itself – is that a good thing?). To the children, I have become like a kid (ask any of my friends who have seen me working with kids).

My point here isn’t to brag.

I want to show the beauty of the life of servitude in the Name of the Lord. It wasn’t I who minister, but Jesus Christ who works through me. I wasn’t I who have done anything or made any difference in these folks’ lives. Somehow, I always feel like I received much more than I could give. There has been as much sorrow and pain as there has been joy. But, somehow, in the midst of all, it’s worth it.

It’s worth it to see the mentally handicapped residents laughed heartily after chasing me around the courtyard, calling me “silly” and “crazy.” It’s worth it to see how touched an old deaf lady was, seeing a young seminarian took the effort the sign and to reach out to her. It’s worth it to sit in the rain with some homeless folks laughing and cracking jokes.

I do receive more than I can give.

People often think so highly of seminarians. No, we are far from being perfect. Not all of us have the right intention following the Lord. Don’t be shock to find out quite a few, just like James and John, seek to glory and honor rather than learning the life of service.

But, time and again, the Lord would always find his way to remind us, as he did me, that “Those who are recognized as rulers over the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones make their authority over them felt. But it shall not be so among you. Rather, whoever wishes to be great among you will be your servant; whoever wishes to be first among you will be the slave of all.”

This vocation is to never a stepping-stone for career ladder, nor should it be a way to gain prestige. It has always been and will always be about service, and only in service do we find contentment.

As a 15 year-old, I was an ambitious brat for wanting to be a Cardinal. As a 23 year-old seminarian, I ought to be what the world would undoubtedly define as “lacking of ambition in every aspect of life,” for I want nothing but to remain unnoticed among the forgotten of society. Is it a bad thing? To quite a few, maybe yes. It doesn’t quite matter to me. In the end, what I and all of us who are following the Lord should keep in mind is that which He himself has said today:

“The Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many.”