When was the last time we listened to another person’s story of his suffering? Listen, as in just listen, our silence and presence replacing unsolicited advice and actions.
When was the last time we did that?
Truth be told, I can’t remember the last time I listened. I am so used to giving my two cents, taking out pennies for thought from my piggy bank of Theology and Philosophy lessons, whenever confronted with the suffering of the other. I’m so used to throwing out lines such as “Everything will be okay. God loves you,” “Don’t despair; there is hope,” “Place your trust in the Lord and you will never thirst,” and all the quotable quotes from my notes.
My Philosophy of Religion class under Dr. Jade Principe, however, changed this. We were discussing John Hick’s article on theodicies (God’s justice, or an attempt at explaining that God is at work despite all suffering) that time. We were wrapping up the lesson and so Sir Jade, like each time he would finish discussing a philosopher, gave his critical appraisals and foot notes.
He then discussed a most interesting topic: sympathy.
Although lessons we learn about God’s love, faith, hope etc. guide us towards attaining a meaningful life and help us cope with our own suffering, it is altogether a different situation when we try to help another person cope with his own.
How do we respond to the other? When a man just lost his family and home to a typhoon, do we simply say God loves him or that there is hope in spite all of the suffering? Can we just really say that?
To this, I quote one of our thesis statements:
“One might try to rationalize evil and suffering by way of theodicy, but this not only remains problematic, but, more insidiously, runs into the danger of the supreme evil of discounting who has suffered and what is suffered.”
We must remember here that there’s nothing wrong with an idea in itself but in the way we use it. Indeed, the danger with theodicies, or perhaps with any Theo or Philo lesson we learn, is that we might just use them to apprehend reality on a conceptual level. In the words of Bobby Guev, baka utakin natin masyado at makalimutan ang kwento at sa gayo’y ang kwenta ng tao.
How then do we respond?
Here, Sir Jade discusses the importance of sympathy, an overused word we easily throw around when talks of suffering come to surface, the casualness by which we use the word strip it of its true meaning and depth, reducing it to a cliche. What then is sympathy if we no longer know what it really means?
I will quote here a passage from Francois Mauriac’s Foreword in Elie Wiesel’s novel Night. Mauriac here was having a conversation with a young Jew who was apparently a victim of the holocaust. The young man told him about how he “watched the coils of black smoke unfurling in the sky, from the oven where his little sister and his mother were going to be thrown with thousands of others” and how the flames of the oven consumed his faith forever:
“And I, who believe that God is love, what answer could I give my young questioner, whose dark eyes still held the reflection of that angelic sadness which had appeared one day upon the face of the hanged child? What did I say to him? Did I speak of that other Jew, his brother, who may have resembled him – the Crucified, whose Cross has conquered the world? Did I affirm that the stumbling block to his faith was the cornerstone of mine, and that the conformity between the Cross and the suffering of men was in my eyes the key to that impenetrable mystery whereon the faith of his childhood had perished? Zion, however, has risen up again from the crematories and the charnel houses. The Jewish nation has been resurrected from among its thousands of dead. It is through them that it lives again. We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Eternal is the Eternal, the last word for each one of us belongs to Him. This is what I should have told this Jewish child. But I could only embrace him, weeping.”
To quote also Fr. Pat Giordano, S.J., my Silent Retreat Director, there are times when “our presence is often more important than our faltering words or awkward actions.” Truly, in the face of suffering, the other sometimes just needs someone to listen and to cry on.
All we have to do is to just be there.
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Day 18-Worst drunken experience in college
Siyempre Black Magic.
Iyon ‘yong mga panahon na uso pa ang Sober Club at mga mobile bars. Hindi ko naman inakala na malalasing ka pala doon sa shots. Konseptong traydor lang. Pero siyempre, kung 30+ ‘yong tinungga mo eh malamang na madadali ka talaga.
So ayun, paggising ko nung umaga (na buti na lang sa kama ko) nagulat ako sa mga lumabas na photos sa Multiply, kasi uso pa rin Multiply noon. At nagulat din ako sa mga pictures ko sa camera, kasi masipag pa ako magdala ng camera noon.
Kung gusto niyo ng detailed explanation ng mga nangyari noong gabing iyon bisitahin niyo lang Multiply ko. Kailangan ko na kasi maligo eh. May grad prac mamaya.
Day 17- A picture of yourself per year
Bernice in an alternate college universe would be donning green shirts whenever she wants comfortable clothes to wear in school. She would be shouting “Animo!” during UAAP games.
Bernice in an alternate college universe would be studying Organizational Communication. Her growth would be hampered because she’s not allowed to choose communication electives to take.
Bernice in an alternate college universe would spend her breaks in Agno and at The Beach, slowly killing her lungs and liver three hours a day.
Bernice in an alternate college universe would be commuting everyday from and to school. Cranky to begin with, she would be crankier because of rude LRT passengers during the morning and late afternoon rush hours.
Bernice in an alternate college universe would be celebrating her first graduation anniversary this week while working on a report at an office somewhere in Makati. She would share this fact to her office mates who would then respond, “You don’t say?”
Bernice in an alternate college universe would be missing something from her life. She would wonder everyday about this emptiness that could have been filled by wonderful friends whose names might be Idge, Lauren, Nic, Cheen, Peter, Tet, Jek, Bianca, Aya, Aaron, Doza, and others. She would also be grappling with life with no understanding of God and of faith, love, and hope. The names Sobrino,Gutierrez, Spinoza, and Marcel would mean nothing but soundbites to her. She would always feel empty and constantly ask herself, “Maybe there’s something more to life than this?”
They say that thesis experience wouldn’t be complete without sleepovers. For some reason, my group mates (Idge and Lauren) and I never really had a legit one. We only had all-nighters in Facebook chat.
I guess my memorable thesis moment would then be that time when Idge and I had a spontaneous sleepover at my place (all the way in Malabon). We were supposed to sleep over at Lauren’s but she got sick.
My mom ordered for us two boxes of pizza, two bibingkas, and pancit. The food helped us soldier on through the night as we wrote extensively on poverty, education, and Elaboration Likelihood Model. When the clock hit 3:30 A.M., we were already in zombie mode. I was staring at my laptop screen already, randomly opening PDF files after PDF files. Idge, meanwhile, kept snoring loudly.
Just watched a man put up posters for his missing wife. I just looked at him and started crying. Please help if you live in or around the Anaheim/Fullerton area. (Taken with Instagram at Fullerton Metrolink Amtrak (FUL))
(via roxywritesaboutstuff)
Day 14-Favorite Org Memory
Plevsems are always magical, the way strangers quickly become friends (or perhaps family) in less than three days time. ACOMM’s Summer Plevsem 2011, however, holds a special place in my heart. For various reasons, really. The best moment would be chasing a bacardi-hit Mela Miranda at three in the morning. There’s also the obstacle course, water balloon fight, and my favorite, two straight nights of drinking and getting the kids wasted! Wild and crazy moments aside, it was during the Summer Plevsem that I truly felt the feeling of family in the company of ACOMM.
AHUHUHUHU I WILL MISS YOU GUYS…AND PLEVSEMS
Day 13-Favorite Barkada Gimmick
HANDS DOWN TO BICOL
Best barkada trip ever, EVER. Why?
1. First time to ride a plane with friends as companions.
2. THE FOOD. 5 times a day kumakain! #teamchunky
3. Everything’s for free! Thank you Jek and family!
4. Beautiful beaches devoid of any hints of commercialization
5. Game of Mao and other games (most of which were laglagan)
6. Learned how to play frisbee
7. Kayaking
8. Hot spring and man-made spring!
9. Closing Time
Of course 10. A2!
Which reminds me, I was supposed to blog about this. Soon, soon.
Tabing Ilog photo by Nicola de Vera