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From Wikipedia: Olympic Motto

The Olympic motto is the hendiatris Citius, Altius, Fortius, which is Latin for “Faster, Higher, Stronger”. The motto was proposed by Pierre de Coubertin on the creation of the International Olympic Committee in 1894. De Coubertin borrowed it from his friend Henri Didon, a Dominican priest who, amongst other things, was an athletics enthusiast. The motto was introduced in 1924 at the Olympic Games in Paris.

The motto was also the name of an Olympic history journal from 1992 to 1997, when it was renamed the Journal of Olympic History.

A more informal but well known motto, also introduced by De Coubertin, is “The most important thing is not to win but to take part!” De Coubertin got this motto from a sermon by the Bishop of Pennsylvania during the 1908 London Games.

“Run as to win.” - Corinthians 9: 24

View a Video: The Greatest Race

The Olympics can be viewed from a Christian perspective. We do our best to to journey towards our Goal, God’s Kingdom. We persevere. We stumble many times. We get up one time more than our fall. We run. We soar. We conquer.

In the end, may we all be able to say:

“I have competed well; I have finished the race; I have kept the faith.” - 2 Timothy 4:7

Turn off the TV.

Unplug those earphones.

Do the same with the radio, cellphone, computer and gaming gadgets.

Put those board games away, or those cards. Close that novel or book (unless it’s the bible).

Unless you work for a critical utility or your job absolutely requires you to be connected, this week is the most appropriate time to set aside the distractions of modern life and become one with Jesus to commemorate His Passion, Death and Resurrection.

Choose an hour or two (or more) this Maundy Thursday or Good Friday to spend quality time with the Lord.

Thank Him for His sacrifice and love.

Ask for his compassion and mercy.

Bask in His Spirit.

Quiet you heart and listen to His Voice.

Be present and feel His presence.

I wanted to celebrate and jump for joy during the Easter Vigil but found
myself lacking the energy to do so. I had the “sniffles” as my daughters
would call it. The air was humid. Plus, I had a ton of things in my mind
(Yup, just like you).

Easter Sunday came and my celebratory meter was at 5 out of 10. I knew
cerebrally that it’s “party time” but negativity was rearing its ugly head,
almost getting the better of me. This morning, the Risen Jesus asks Mary
Magdalene: “Woman, why are you weeping?” - (John 20:15). It was as if He
was asking me.

We had something in common, Mary of Magdala and I. We were pre-occupied with
our misery and troubles, missing out on the most important point of all:
Jesus. Instead on focusing on the essential, we wallowed in our self-pity
and feelings of helplessness. It was about me, myself and I. How wrong we
were.

Then Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew,
“Rabbouni,” - (John 20:16).

How wonderful she must have felt!

I think Jesus must be shouting at me, too: “Jun!”

Christ’s words moved me to think of the wonderful things in my life: The
kids have finished the school year with good marks. Gina has finished
discerning an important decision. I’ve got a lot things lined up for
personal and professional growth. In addition, we stood as godparents to our
kids’ yaya who was initiated (baptism, confirmation and first communion all
in one go) to the Catholic Church during the Easter Vigil. What a privilege
in that holiest of days.

Looking back at His goodness, I can only proclaim “Thank you Lord!”

I’m still sniffing a bit but my shoulders are lighter now. I still have the
same concerns but they are not as big as they seemed. Darkness has given way
to light. Things are brighter once again.

Thanks be to God, Alleluia, Alleluia!

Some musings on names.

When I was little, when I am asked “What’s your name?”, I automatically answer: “Rolando Asis Jr.”

If you ask me now, I say, “Jun Asis.” It’s shorter, less formal-sounding and probably easier to remember. Being Rolando Jr., people who knew my father can’t help but compare me to him. Papa was tall and handsome and had a great way with people and friends, and was known to be on the brighter side of the
classroom. He read voraciously, always carried a pocketbook or newspaper, solved crossword puzzles with ease. Just pick which traits I got from him.

Be nice, okay?

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Bo Sanchez in his blog wrote about names which started with: “Find The Meaning Of Your Name—And You May Find The Meaning Of Your Life.” There he tells the amazing story of Grace Princesa as well as the meaning of his real name. Read through the comments to and see the meaning of other people’s
names. You might want to add yours, too.

By the way, I’ve researched the meaning of my name, Rolando Mercado Asis, Jr. too:

Rolando came from Roland, A nephew of Charlemagne who was a defender of Christianity. I defend my faith by sharing the message of God’s love through MabutingBalita.net and its email ministry.

Mercado means Market, a term often used for the workplace where I must also live my faith and share God’s Word through my work and dealings with the people I encounter.

Asis - I’ve always admire St. Francis of Assisi who helped a lot of people become closer to the Lord and that is one of my main mission in life, my “assist”, like in basketball, to reach the Goal - Heaven.

Jr. - Junior means younger. As a Salesian past pupil, the charism of Don Bosco to minister to the young resonates in me, specially to my children.

———————
There was a man who was complaining to a friend when the parish priest didn’t allow his son to be baptized. “He didn’t like the name I gave my son. I don’t know why,” he said. “I named my eldest Mercedes and there were no questions. The second was Audi and all want smoothly. But he flew into a
rage when he asked what name we were giving our son.” The friend asked “What name did you give your son?” Came the reply “F-150”

I wonder where he goes for oil change ..

Gloria, a blogger friend who half-seriously mused on naming kids recently the way we categorize vitamins, chemical compounds, asteroids or like some serial number. R2D2 Cruz. A1 Smith. CO2 Santos.

While it may be orderly and easy, it does not seem right, don’t you think?
————————

There were some “name games” in the the Bible. Abram became Abraham. From “a father of a nation” to “a father to many nations” Saul became Paul. Simon got a second name: Peter, meaning “rock”.

Popes may choose a different name (usually from saints or previous popes) when they are elected. Cardinal Karol Wojtyla became Pope John Paul II. Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger  became Pope Benedict XVI. Presumably to model their papacy and life with that of their namesake or to honor that person or
saint.

——————

And then Bobby Q asks “What’s in a name?” There he tells us that Jesus, the name above all names, is calling us, knows us by name.

Do people hear “Jesus” when they speak of your name?

Do you know what HHWWPSSP stand for?

Holding Hands While Walking, Pa-Sway-Sway Pa

Gina tells me that she knows my hand so much that she can identify it just by mere touch. If you regularly hold somebody’s hand, it will become so familiar that you can distinguish it with by  running your palm on his.

When do you hold hands? We hold hands riding the jeep, during mass or in a prayer meeting, while seated on the sofa. We don’t do it the entire time we are together but regular enough that I  think of it as “seeking the other hand that you love”.

We hold hands when crossing the street or taking a stroll. Our hands clasp when we talk serious, when we just talk. Our hands hold fast and tight when we pray.

Her hands are dainty and fit perfectly in mine which are veiny =)

Why holds hands? Holding hands say “I’m yours and you are mine.” And more.

From a Christianity.com article:

“A recent study of how human touch affects neural stress release indicated that married women who hold their husband’s hand feel instant relief from extremely stressful situations.

Tom DeMaio, a clinical psychologist in Charlottesville, North Carolina, says that he often recommends that couples hold hands during an argument. “It keeps them connected when they are trying to work things out during tough times,” he says.”

It says “I am here. I support you.”

A squeeze means a lot; like wait, stop or go. Sometimes it acts like is a mini-hug, a light kiss, a pat on the back.

When you hold her hand close to your heart, it tell that them “You are dearly loved.”

Holding hands says “Thank you” and “I love you” and all other good things.

Hold hands just because.

The only thing permanent is change.

Are you feeling the heat? The weather just changed a few weeks ago from cold to boiling. One moment we were complaining of the rains, now we are complaining about the heat.

We all experience change. Some welcome, some not at all. Sometimes we can do something about them. At other times, they are beyond our control.

Take for example, the weather. It is something that we cannot change. To cope, we wear heavy and dark clothes during rainy days while in the summer, we prefer our light-colored getup. Complaining about how hot or how wet it is would not change anything. As a matter of fact, some studies show that
your saying so affects your psychological makeup and make you feel worse.

The equation E + R = O, or Events + Response = Outcome, is a great way to learn to deal with change. It’s your response to events that determines whether the outcome will go your way or not. It’s up to us to cope and respond to change.

I am not as young and agile as I was. I can’t bring back my youth even if I go for cosmetic surgery or take performance enhancing-drugs. What I can do is eat healthy and right, exercise regularly maintain a positive mental attitude and have a regular prayer time. I can’t go back to my twenties but I can age with dignity and happiness.

One of the keys to a good life is knowing how to deal with change captured vividly by the Serenity Prayer.

<blockquote>The Serenity Prayer

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time; Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it; Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His Will; That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him. Forever in the next. Amen. </blockquote>

Amen indeed.

Makati workers all. Ten of us, packed in  a red Tamaraw FX. The two women in front, talking in hushed voices. The four people in the middle seats, trying to find a comfortable position while making sure that they don’t make anybody else uncomfortable.

Men usually ride at the back. There are two men in polo barong with me on this ride and a lone lady. Each of us minding our own business.

The vehicle goes out to EDSA, merging with the morning traffic. The driver weaves, finding the fastest lane possible. Unerringly, he finds just the right opening. His familiarity with the behavior of the morning rush almost makes driving for him instinctive.

One by one, each passenger settles and get immersed in their own world.

As we move with the cars, buses and motorcycles on this major thoroughfare, I faintly hear the driver complain, words like “impound, colorum, mahirap ng mahuli” come out of his lips.

The man on my right, probably thirtyish or younger, takes out his PSP. He begins to press buttons, first slowly. Then he raises the portable game device nearer his eyes to see better. Abruptly, his fingers frantically move with dexterity trying to keep his champion alive, maybe a fighting game.

The other guy wipes his sweat and savor the cool air from the aircon vent. He closes his eyes, leans back and does his best to doze off.

Another lady in the middle seats puts on her earphones and slides her fingers on her iPod Touch, trying to find her favorite song. A few minutes later, she removes the buds, and looks intently on the display. No more battery.

The lone lady at the back take her thin cellphone and flips it. Expertly, she thumbs her keypad, probably reading through her inbox. She pauses, looks out as if thinking of what message to type and to whom, and resumes.

I smile to myself, as the lady in the middle seat near the door takes out her rosary, makes the sign of the cross and thumbs through the beads, eyes closed.

I make the sign of the cross as we pass by Our Lady of EDSA church. I lean back, smiling inwardly and pray with her in spirit, as I thumb through my ring rosary.

How was your commute today?

He feared no one and nothing. But with the same degree of fierceness, he was wise as he was kind. That was enough reason for everyone to respect him; friend and foe alike. The legion regarded him highly and he was made an oft-decorated soldier. The Jews, especially the elders, held him in very high regard as he was kind to them; kind enough to support their synagogue and respect their culture. But this soldier had one secret flaw: He heard voices in his head.

“I’m crazy,” he said under his breath as he stood around a table with the high ranking officials of the Roman army. “Speak up, man!” one of the generals said. He was roused from his reverie and as he looked around the table, everyone was staring at him. He smiled impishly and proceeded to explain his plan to overthrow yet another Jewish town just in case they put up a fight. The generals were impressed.

Whether it was marching in the din of battle or resting in his tent for a quiet evening, he often heard the voice speaking a tongue he could not recognize. He had told no one and he guarded his flaw with his life.

From growing up in Rome, his father had regularly brought him to the temples to worship but he found it amusing to pray to what he firmly believed were polished stones and dumb statues. He did not believe in a god but he did not ridicule anyone who believed otherwise. Because he did not believe in a god or in the concept of one, he became fearful of no one; nothing scared him.

He could not remember ever being afraid.

Through the years, the voice continued; in a tongue he could not understand and with an ever growing intensity. But he was a disciplined man; disciplined enough to keep quiet about what he heard. Often the voice was disturbing but sometimes, he found it made him feel calm and at peace. He had given up years ago trying to fight it and he just accepted the fact that he was crazy.

Today, as he rode back to his outpost in Galilee, he heard the voice again, almost screaming. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Everything alright, sir?” his attendant asked. “When has a headache ever bothered a Roman soldier?” he said with sarcasm. The attendant smiled and proceeded to
walk on. The soldier dismounted. The attendant was surprised. “Here,” the soldier said, “take the horse and go back. I’d like to walk.” “Is everything alright, sir?” the attendant asked. “I’d like to walk,” the soldier repeated. “Sir, it’s dangerous,” but the soldier glared at him. “Very well, sir,” the attendant said as he led the horse away.

“There is no god,” the soldier said. And he kept repeating this line as he walked along the road by the riverside. He was alone but the voice screamed every time he said this. “There is no god,” he repeated again and again challenging the voice and irritating it greatly. Finally, when the din of the voice was nearly unbearable, he spoke one last time “there is no god!” and the voice stopped; as abruptly as it started.

For a few minutes, the voice did not speak and the soldier felt at ease and disturbed that a voice he had grown up with, was suddenly quiet.

“Jesus”.

The soldier looked up because it was a different voice he heard; calm, collected and almost holy. “Who’s there?” he asked loudly with so much authority he didn’t even hold the handle of his sword. He wasn’t afraid. But there was only silence. He remembered the word this time and knew it was a Jewish name. He didn’t care but he tried to remember to ask around about that name anyway.

“There is no god,” he resumed his mockery but the voice was quiet. He laughed and his laughter reverberated into the forest. For the first time he could recall, it was quiet; outside and inside his head.

“I knew it, there is no god and if there were, I will only consider believing if fire was shooting out of his hands or if he could fly.” He laughed again and remembered the name he had heard. He stopped laughing. The heavens were turning dark and it looked like rain any minute now. He didn’t
care. “Oh rubbish,” he said to keep from being ill at ease at remembering the name. “Alright, perhaps I would consider believing in god if he could make me disappear and reappear before Caesar.”  He laughed again. The dark clouds moved faster than he thought and it almost looked like night. He
didn’t care. “Oh, alright,” he continued his mockery, “let’s make it simple for you, I’ll only consider believing in a god if I saw him walking on water.”  He laughed even harder as the thunder joined him in chorus.

The river was noisy now; the waves were big, the wind was strong, the thunder was loud, and the lightning was hitting the water with a powerful clasping noise.

As the soldier turned towards the port area, he was greeted with a wider view of the river. And as he continued to walk, he stopped dead on his tracks; he couldn’t believe what he was seeing ñ there on the river was a man walking on the water.

For a few split seconds he couldn’t move; then getting back his senses, the soldier laughed as hard as he could. He bowed slightly, took hold of his helmet, and threw it on the ground. The rain was soaking him now but he didn’t care. He looked again to the river and there, on the water, as clear as he could see his own hands, stood a man dressed in white, holding the hand of another man who seemed like he was rising from out of the water.

“Oh you of little faith,” he heard the voice of the man in white. As the other man came out from the water, the storm died down faster than when it came. The soldier stood dumbstruck. He wasn’t laughing anymore. He watched both men as they walked on the water towards a waiting boat. He saw others
on the boat bowing as the man in white approached the boat. As the man in white climbed into the boat, He glanced back toward the soldier. For a split second, both men looked at each other and for the first time in his life, the soldier was gripped with so much fear his knees gave in and he dropped
bowing to the ground.

“Jesus”.

He heard the name again but it wasn’t a voice in his head anymore. He had spoken it himself. He could not understand but somehow, somewhere within him he had never known, he believed.

There is a God, and His name is Jesus.

You have the gifts.

At Confirmation, all of us received the Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit: Wisdom, Knowledge, Counsel, Fortitude, Understanding, Piety and Fear of the Lord. St. Thomas Aquinas said that the first four of these gifts (wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and counsel) direct the intellect, while the other three gifts (fortitude, piety, and fear of the Lord) direct the will toward God. (Summa Theologica)

“Theologians consider the gifts of the Holy Spirit to be supernatural and permanent qualities given by God that are magnified after the Sacrament of Confirmation; that make one attentive to the voice of God; that render one susceptible to the workings of actual grace; that make one love the things
of God; and that, consequently, render one more obedient and docile to the inspirations of the Holy Ghost.” - Newadvent.org, Catholic Encyclopedia

In Corinthians 12:6-11; Corinthians 12:28-31; and Romans 12:6-8, we read of the Charismata, manifestations of the Holy Spirit in us. This second class of gifts or fruits of the spirit, are extraordinary favours granted for the help of another. Each of us, having any number of appropriate gift
to strengthen the church, as apportioned by the Holy Spirit. These include, healing, prophecy, speaking in tongues, administration, giving, discerning, faith, teaching, etc.

You have your inherent God-given human strengths. You may be good at basketball, with cooking or taking care of children. Maybe you have a way with dogs or cats or people. Do you have talent in writing, speaking, or listening? How about your math, computer, selling, typing, organizing, reading, dancing, singing, painting, cleaning, connecting, idea generating, leading, following, consoling, etc. These are things you easily do that others might find difficult.

Instead on focusing on how you failed or made a mistake, direct your energies on how you can use your gifts to do better for yourself and for others. Offer your help on something you are good at to those who need it. (Ask help when you are stumped from someone who is good at something you are
not.) You are gifted. We are all gifted. Don’t let anybody tell you or let you believe otherwise.

Ask for the fruits of the Spirit. Pray that you may develop and use the Seven Gifts regularly. Offer to God your talents and strengths that He may direct you to use them for His will.

After all, you are God’s gifted child.

References: Wikipedia.org, Newadvent.org Catholic Encyclopedia and Americancatholic.org articles.

It could be fun. It could be frustrating. It could be rewarding. It’s an adventure. Or a misadventure. Whichever way it turns out, pray with yourchildren.

We started praying with our children since they were able to mimic our words. Since then, we have made it a family practice to sit by our bed (or theirs) and be together with God. We usually go by ACTS - Adoration, Contrition, Thanksgiving and Supplication.

Now that they are a bit older, Iani and Tesa can pray on their own. We’ve noticed that even at 6 and 5 years, praying has clearly proven beneficial.

They are developing a great relationship with God and more.

One time, Agnes and Tesa, godmother and godchild, slept together. The following morning, Agnes related that she was humbled when they prayed. While she started with “Lord please give us….”, Tesa gently interrupted and said “Ninang, let’s start with “Thank You” first..” You could just imagine how glad Gina and I were. (Her Ninang admitted to being “napahiya” - in a good way).

Being toddlers, their attention shift from pray to play in a span of a few seconds. I sometimes wonder if it’s a good idea to pray with them at this stage. After they have said their part, one would go by the window and peek at the stars or the cats, the other would be playing with her fingers while
their parents would remind them several times that “We are still praying.”

A few weeks ago, Gina and I came home from work. Iani followed us to our room and sat by our bed. While I was taking my shoes off, she blurted “Dad, how is your career?” Gina and I looked at each other, speechless. With Gina’s impending early retirement (after more than a year of discernment), we regularly prayed for my work and career, where the question clearly stemmed from. My guess is Iani was very concerned about my job. Recovering, I replied “It’s great.” That made her happy. After that I realized that they understood and took to heart our prayers - despite their “inattentiveness” every now and then.

About 5 days ago, their Ate Daday stepped on a cat that resulted in some scratches. That night, Tesa prayed for her healing, her concern showing in her prayers.

Iani usually catches what we pray for easily. She now prays for “our concerns, community and relationships” - big words for an incoming Grade One pupil. I’m sure she does not fully understand what these concepts are. But since they are Daddy and Mommy’s prayers, they are hers too.

When praying with your children, remember that they do not have the wisdom, concentration and self-control of adults. Pray with them nonetheless - to show them how it’s done, to get them into the habit and to develop their love for God.

Many times, you’d rather pray the way they do.