Allow me to offer three points—three reflections drawn from the First Reading—that capture what we celebrate today.
First, Isaiah speaks of a voice crying out: “Prepare the way of the Lord… Every valley shall be lifted up, every mountain and hill made low… and all flesh shall see the glory of the Lord.” We often hear that the prophet prepares the way for God. But allow me to reverse the lens: perhaps God also prepares the way for His prophets.
Bert, I believe your vocation story, much like mine, is rooted in the mission of Jesuits who planted the seeds of faith in our islands. In your case, it was the Spanish Jesuit Fr Argarate—whose zeal led to the establishment of the parish in Olutanga. His missionary presence shaped and nurtured your parents’ faith, and in time, yours.
“Prayers and going to Church are part of our family,” your sister says. Another recalls: “Prayerful na dyod na siya,” referring to you, her Manoy. Your parents themselves testify how you were drawn to prayer early in life. One wonders: had Fr Argarate not reached Suba-Nipa, would you be here today?
Later, the Jesuits founded Xavier High School in Mabuhay in the late ’60s—another stretch of road God cleared for you. It awakened your desire to learn, to excel, to strive beyond circumstance. Finishing at the top of your class eventually brought you to Ateneo de Zamboanga, where you learned not only Chavacano para no puede sila bende contigo, but also graduated with Latin honors.
Your siblings simply call it as it is: “Bright lagi.” “Kugihan mag-study maskin kandila ray suga.” God paved these roads—through people, through schools, through circumstances—shaping a heart ready for the Jesuit vocation. If the Jesuits had not established Xavier High School, would we be gathered here today? Truly, Fr Bert, God has long been preparing the way for you.
Second, Isaiah continues: “All flesh is grass… Ang sagbot gakalaya ug ang mga bulak gakalawos. Apan ang pulong sa Diyos magpabilin kanunay.” The prophet reminds us of our truth: we are finite. Before God, we are but grass. Our proper stance, therefore, is humility.
And this, Bert, is a virtue deeply ingrained in you. Back in 2001, when we were still exploring our vocation, Arvisu held open-house Mondays for young men discerning religious life. After Mass and dinner, when the guests left—mao na to ang tinood nga trabaho: cleaning up.
Some companions, mga rich kids, would compete for the easiest tasks—arranging chairs, packing up tables. The slower ones ended up washing plates. But the most avoided job? Scrubbing the greasy pots, pans, kalderos, kalahas—those piled up in the kitchen corner. If nobody wanted the task, you stepped forward. Quietly. Diligently. Without complaint.
One brother even joked, “Uy, palagi ka na lang diyan. Kakulay mo na ang kalaha.” But beyond our teasing, we noticed. Your siblings noticed. Even Amon and Novario, your former students in East Timor, attest to your humility. And today I say: this humility grounds your priesthood. It conforms you to Christ, whose kenosis—self-emptying—is the purest expression of divine love.
Finally, Isaiah hears God say: “Fear not to cry out… Here is your God! He comes with power, ruling with a strong arm.” A prophet proclaims God’s strength. But what emboldens such proclamation?
CS Lewis once used a simple image to describe our relationship with God: mirror and light. Or in Pope Francis’ words: the moon and the sun. The moon shines not on its own but only by reflecting the sun’s light. So it is with the prophet. His zeal is but reflection—born from a deep personal experience of God’s power and mercy.
Bert, your twenty-four years in the Society have taught you precisely this: That God’s strong arm is the arm of mercy. That His love is stronger than our limitations. That His grace outstrips our failings. And so you know in your heart that you were called to be a priest not because you are bright, or hardworking, or well-behaved—maskin wa gyud kadungog imong pamilya nga nangita kag away or sumbagay—but because of God’s boundless love and mercy.
This is the message you proclaim. This is the fire you carry. This, Dodong Bert, is the heart of your vocation.
And so today, as you pronounce your final vows, remember that this vocation is not something you merited. The Society’s acceptance of you today is bound to how God has long been preparing your path. Your long walks from Laparay to Xavier, your disciplined love for learning, your silent humility, your years of service—these form the road God shaped for you so that you may walk behind Christ.
And above all, remember this: Your call to proclaim God among His people is rooted in your own experience of His strong arm—an arm most clearly felt not in strength, but in our weakness… when we rely not on ourselves, but on the mercy of God.
Homily at the Final Vows of Fr Roberto M Boholst SJ, preached on 9 Dec, Holy Family Chapel, Ateneo de Zamboanga Lantaka Campus, Zamboanga City.