Today's Punto
Today's Punto
In adoration, at the village green
By Bong Lacson

Dec 05, 2017

ADVENT COMES ever to me with some deeper sense of prayer. Mayhaps, brought about by some intense expectation of His coming.

The stirring of the soul assumes heightened magnitude, so to speak, even with just the usual meditative walk around the village green. Yes, about this same date ten years ago, we have written of this prayerful experience here.

THE GOLDEN rays of the early morning sun tenderly piercing the canopy of green swaying to the gentle wind: the shafts of light, a promise of a good day dawning.

The last drop of the evening dew on a blade of grass mirrors a minute world awakening. Little butterflies in white and yellow fluttering, flitting from flower to flower, abloom wild in all of rainbow’s hues, untouched, untended – beauty at its primeval best.

From the choir loft of acacia branches, a chorus of birds sings a symphony of praise to a new day; the last strains of the cicadas’ vespers softly fading.

Whistles in the wind, raining confetti from the majestic trees: the leaves wafting through the air, falling, touching the earth – in death one with the earth for a new life to rebirth. The eternal cycle unescaped.

God is good! God is great!

NOT ONLY on Sundays that a walk around the village green of Villa Victoria becomes an occasion for worship, an expression of faith, a celebration of life.

The human senses so get a feel of the elements of the Divine – magnificence, omniscience, omnipresence, beneficence – that one can only go in the total acceptance, nay, in the fullness of faith that “God is, and is ours.”

Whence comes too, the full realization that – as one philosopher put it – “The final end and purpose of every human being is the unitive knowledge of God’s being.” Indeed, an uplifting, if not a provoking thought.

At my own open cathedral of trees, grass and birds though, philosophy is the last thing to bother oneself with.

There, it is all about man and his God in a truly person-to-Three-Person interaction. Without the trappings of rites and ceremonies. Without the aid of incense and candles. Without sermons, exhortations, ejaculations and damnations. There, is but that quietude that sears the very soul.

There, I open up my worship with but a plea to my God to:

Touch – my mind O Lord, that I may think of you constantly;

My heart, and fill it with Your love;

My ears, that I may hear and listen to Your voice;

My eyes, that I may see Your loving kindness, in all of my fellowmen, in all of Your creation;

My nose, that I may breathe in your goodness.

And – open my lips O Lord, that I may sing You praise.

And then, I get myself enveloped in His grace, not only to keep, but to love and live His commandments.


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