My Tattered Barong
I serve in our parish as a lay minister. It's one ministry where I help out, along with the other lay ministers, the priest in giving the Host during Communion, and we also give the Holy Communion to the sick and elderly members of our parish.
But before I am a lay minister, I was getting inspirations in clear words during my prayer time: "FEED MY FLOCK". And I thought well, maybe I have to do another service in the parish or give a talk or something. Until a friend approached me one day and invited me to become a lay minister. I didn't think it was that literal. I was a very hesitant recruit in the ministry. I mean, I objected to God's calling to be a lay minister with all my energy. I know I am not worthy to hold His Body and moreso to give the Host to His people. I must be nuts to be one. No Lord, not me! 'Am pretty messed up to be entrusted with the Eucharist. But then my friend, who's bugging me to be a lay minister answered my objections and he said: "But who is worthy to serve Him? Nobody, really."
So daily I keep on ignoring the prodings until one morning, I was cruising the Macapagal Blvd on the way to work when suddenly an SUV cut me very sharply that I have to floor the breaks. And guess what the bumper sticker on the SUV says? FEED MY FLOCK! The next morning, I was talking to my friend and asking him how to become a lay minister. Then the rest is a deepening relationship with God. Yes, it is a relationship for me. Serving Him as a lay minister isn't ritualistic at all, rather a very personal relationship with Him and sharing Him to the body of the Church.
So I had me first, a barong and a pair of black pants. And later on, when I served in the university where I worked as a lay minister too, I was given another barong. But sometime later, our laundrywoman accidentally, ruined one of my barong. And I was left with just one. I couldn't afford to buy me another because of my other priorities. And I reckon since I only use that once a week, one barong will be fine. Until it started to tater.
My barong is a very reliable thing to me every Sunday. I wear it every Sunday to serve Him. I wear it to go and give Communion to the sick and the elderly. I wear it to serve in Mass weddings and even some Mass in a school in our parish. I wear it to serve Him. Diligently. It maybe a bit tattered now but it still helps me serve Him, like really.
My taterred barong reminds me of who I am in my relationship with God. I am worn out with my struggles. I am tattered with my imperfections, yet I come to Him and serve. Not because I have to and not because it's a duty of being a good minister. I do it because I love Him and I can't thank Him enough for the goodness, mercy, provisions, care and guidance He gives me and my family. And the people around me too. Yet every time I serve, it is a renewal. A renewal of my being. His son. Forgiven. Blessed. Loved. I may be tattered like my barong, but He fixes me right, everyday, every time, every moment.
One of these days, my barong will get a renewal too. And God will provide me for a new one.
But before I am a lay minister, I was getting inspirations in clear words during my prayer time: "FEED MY FLOCK". And I thought well, maybe I have to do another service in the parish or give a talk or something. Until a friend approached me one day and invited me to become a lay minister. I didn't think it was that literal. I was a very hesitant recruit in the ministry. I mean, I objected to God's calling to be a lay minister with all my energy. I know I am not worthy to hold His Body and moreso to give the Host to His people. I must be nuts to be one. No Lord, not me! 'Am pretty messed up to be entrusted with the Eucharist. But then my friend, who's bugging me to be a lay minister answered my objections and he said: "But who is worthy to serve Him? Nobody, really."
So daily I keep on ignoring the prodings until one morning, I was cruising the Macapagal Blvd on the way to work when suddenly an SUV cut me very sharply that I have to floor the breaks. And guess what the bumper sticker on the SUV says? FEED MY FLOCK! The next morning, I was talking to my friend and asking him how to become a lay minister. Then the rest is a deepening relationship with God. Yes, it is a relationship for me. Serving Him as a lay minister isn't ritualistic at all, rather a very personal relationship with Him and sharing Him to the body of the Church.
So I had me first, a barong and a pair of black pants. And later on, when I served in the university where I worked as a lay minister too, I was given another barong. But sometime later, our laundrywoman accidentally, ruined one of my barong. And I was left with just one. I couldn't afford to buy me another because of my other priorities. And I reckon since I only use that once a week, one barong will be fine. Until it started to tater.
My barong is a very reliable thing to me every Sunday. I wear it every Sunday to serve Him. I wear it to go and give Communion to the sick and the elderly. I wear it to serve in Mass weddings and even some Mass in a school in our parish. I wear it to serve Him. Diligently. It maybe a bit tattered now but it still helps me serve Him, like really.
My taterred barong reminds me of who I am in my relationship with God. I am worn out with my struggles. I am tattered with my imperfections, yet I come to Him and serve. Not because I have to and not because it's a duty of being a good minister. I do it because I love Him and I can't thank Him enough for the goodness, mercy, provisions, care and guidance He gives me and my family. And the people around me too. Yet every time I serve, it is a renewal. A renewal of my being. His son. Forgiven. Blessed. Loved. I may be tattered like my barong, but He fixes me right, everyday, every time, every moment.
One of these days, my barong will get a renewal too. And God will provide me for a new one.
