SEMINARIAN JASON A. ECAL

THOUGHTS

Good morning, Fathers and Brothers.

Actually, I’m emotionally disturbed right now because I had a dream just before I woke up. In the dream, I was being ordained as a Deacon. In that scenario, I saw myself crying, especially during the laying on of hands by the Bishop on my head. Well, I don’t know whether it is a coincidence. Bro. Francis announced yesterday during our lunch that today would be the feast of St. Lawrence, and it came to my mind a while ago, while praying, that St. Lawrence is a deacon. What a coincidence. But anyway, what could be the reason I was crying?
Well, as I reflect on it, I can see the answer in my reflection on today’s Gospel. (The blue text is something I added during the Mass because I felt that the Holy Spirit was allowing me to share my dream.) There is a story that I often heard from one of my professors in graduate school outside the seminary. It is about a soldier who fought bravely in a war but was left alone after all of his companions died. Alone, surrounded by his enemies, he faced a difficult question: How could he survive? Should he fight until death for the sake of honor, or should he surrender in the hope of living?

When we think of ancient epics such as The Iliad and The Odyssey, war is often portrayed as a struggle between honor, glory, and survival. The heroes are frequently challenged to choose between dying with honor or living without it. The Gospel, however, offers a different perspective. Although it is not about war, it speaks to those times when everything seems to be falling apart. I ask myself? What should I do? The Gospel reminds me that the answer is not to rely on my own strength or seek my own glory, but to surrender myself to God and die to my old self. Jesus says: "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it produces much fruit."

Dying to myself has not been easy. It has been a long journey of encountering my weaknesses and allowing God to transform me throughout the years, even before I came here. It means letting go of my stable job, leaving behind the comfort of my family and friends, and confronting my pride, ego, and selfishness. It also means accepting that, despite my sins, I am still loved and called by God. And this is the reason why I was crying in my dream, there in front of the altar—not simply because I was being ordained, but because, in that moment, I remembered all the sacrifices I had offered to God, all the times I had to die to myself, and everything I had surrendered to Him. I found myself saying, “Thank you, Lord, for choosing me. Thank You for the grace You have given me and for all the blessings You have showered upon me.” (The blue text is something I added during the Mass because I felt that the Holy Spirit was allowing me to share my dream.) There was a time in my life when I experienced a personal crisis that led me to turn back to Him. In my prayer, I told God, Why? It seems that I am being persecuted by my own guilt. I am nothing, yet You continue to touch my heart and fill it with a deep desire to love You. That crisis became the turning point of my life. It taught me to surrender everything to Him, to die to myself, and to recognize that life is no longer about me—it is all about Him. Then I tell myself, I do not want to die merely while living in sin. Rather, I want to live serving Him. And that is exactly the Gospel invitation to me today. Follow Me, follow Me, and must follow Me. Amen. (Delivered on August 10, 2026)