SEMINARIAN MON ALLEN P. ZAMORA

REFLECTION

When I heard the Gospel today, what strikes me most is Jesus’ words: “You have neglected the weightier things of the law: judgment and mercy and fidelity.” And as I reflect on these words, I realized that sometimes the things that hurt me the most in life are not only the things that happen to me, but the moments when I feel that I am not heard, understood, or given the chance to explain myself. 

When I was a child, there were moments when my father disciplined me in ways that deeply hurt me. Whenever I cried after playing with my older brothers, he would sometimes force me to eat chili peppers as a way of disciplining me and to be strong because crying was not a manifestation of a man. There were also times when he would whip me with his belt. One of the punishments that remains vivid in my memory was to kneel on salt while holding books in both hands, with another book to be balanced on my head. If one of the books fell, another book would be added.

At that young age, I did not fully understand why those punishments were necessary. But what hurts me the most was not only the physical punishment. It was the feeling that I was never given the opportunity to explain what had happened. I simply wanted to be heard. I wanted my father to listen. I wanted him to know what I was feeling. I was not necessarily trying to prove that I was right but I was just a child who wanted my father to understand me.

 
At home, crying was often seen as a sign of weakness. We were not allowed to cry. So my siblings and I slowly learned to hide our emotions instead of expressing them. I learned how to keep things inside. And as time passed, something happened to me. I became tolerant to physical pain. The body eventually learned how to endure pain without even crying. Then, I eventually realized that emotional pain is different from physical pain. Physical pain may disappear, but the wounds that are carried quietly in the heart could remain for a very long time. Deep within me a question still lingers in my heart for many years: “Why can't my father simply listen to me?”

And perhaps this is where the Gospel telling to me. Jesus told the Pharisees that they were very concerned about what could be seen on the outside, but they neglected what was more important inside: mercy, justice, and fidelity. Jesus says, “Cleanse first the inside of the cup, so that the outside also may be clean.” For me, this Gospel is a reminder that God looks deeper than what people see. But as I grew older, I slowly realized that even when I could not explain myself to others, God already knew what was happening inside my heart. God heard the cry that I could not express. I cannot change what happened when I was a child. I cannot go back and ask my younger self to stop crying or to be stronger. But I can allow God to heal the part of me that still longs to be heard. And I can choose to become the kind of person who listens.

Perhaps forgiveness, for me, is not pretending that the painful things never happened. It is not saying that what hurt me was okayy. Rather, forgiveness is slowly allowing God to take those painful memories and transform them into something that can produce mercy instead of bitterness, understanding instead of judgment, and compassion instead of anger.