“All of these I have observed. What more do I need to do?” (Mt 19:20). Frankly, the young man sounds a little like the Atong I knew some 24 years ago. Fr Atong belonged to a rather historic novitiate batch of 2004. Thirteen entered the novitiate—the last double-digit batch of novices in the Philippine Province, as far as I know, and the last batch accepted by the late, much-loved Provincial Fr Archie Intengan. Today, only four remain in the Society. Aside from Fr Atong, they are in alphabetical order: Fr Rico (chaplain in Ateneo de Naga), Fr Mark (director of Fe y Alegria in Cambodia), and Fr Henry (pastor of the Afro-Asian Migrant Center in Lebanon).
Fr Atong and I spent much of our formation practically together: one year in the novitiate, a year promoting vocations, a summer of political education in Bicol, two years in philosophy, a year of regency in Ateneo de Manila High School with Frs Eli and RB, and finally two years of theology before we were ordained together. Through all those years, Atong has always been the good formand: conscientious, diligent, trustworthy—the kind who did what was asked of him and did it well. When I asked Henry for some juicy trivia about him, he protested: “Buotan man kaayo na si Atong! Basin magabaan ta!” Mark remembers something else: “Atong was medyo nerbyoso—I mean, pinakanerbyoso in our batch.” But Mark quickly added: when Atong is placed in charge, rest easy. Even as a novice, he was entrusted with managing the Retreat House… keeper ng kaban, kumbaga!”
Before entering the Society, Atong was a banker. So this was no accident: Banker, keeper of the kaban, perennial batch beadle—Atong has spent much of his Jesuit life being trusted with things that matter. So perhaps nobody is surprised that today he is a school president. Give Atong responsibility, and you can rest easy. Which is why I can almost hear him saying with the young man: “All of these I have observed. What more do I need to do?” And Jesus gives a surprising answer: “If you wish to be perfect, go, sell what you have… Then come, follow me.”
While the young man asks what more he needs to do, Jesus responds with what he still needs to let go. This is where today’s Gospel begins to speak about Final Vows. Atong has already given much: twenty years of perpetual vows, eleven years of formation, eleven years of priesthood and mission.
After ordination, he would have preferred the missions in Bukidnon. The Provincial thought otherwise. He was sent to Ateneo de Zamboanga, where he stayed for nine years: chaplain, principal, Vice President for Basic Education, and eventually Jesuit superior. Atong wanted Bukidnon. God kept him in the schools. The Lord seems to have His own apostolic preferences. But Atong did not merely endure a mission he had not chosen. He entered it, worked at it, learned to love it, and excelled in it…
And precisely here the Gospel becomes more demanding. After many years in religious life, our “possessions” become subtler: our reputation, competence, accomplishments, preferred ministries—even our preferred way of serving God. Sometimes the last possession we surrender is our preferred version of our life.
Rico remembers their novitiate pilgrimage trial from Bulacan to Manaoag. They had to beg for food along the way. Atong would decide which houses to approach. But Rico would do the actual begging. Once, Atong tried to beg… Boom! Rejected. They were turned away because they looked too well-fed to be begging. Napahiya si Atong. After that, Rico resumed begging. According to him, Atong hated rejection and embarrassment. Besides, Rico said, “mas credible yata akong mamalimos dahil mas mukha akong pulubi kesa kanya. Kailan ba nagkaroon ng Intsik na namamalimos?”
Perhaps that pilgrimage taught Atong that some things are harder to surrender than money: our dignity, reputation, our fear of looking foolish. This helps us understand our difficult first reading. God calls Ezekiel’s wife “the delight of your eyes.” What is being surrendered is something precious. The deepest sacrifices in religious life are often like that. God asks us to place at His disposal what is good and beautiful: people we love, dreams we cherish, ministries into which we have poured ourselves.
That is why obedience requires the freedom to go when mission says go, stay when mission says stay, and leave when mission says leave. To love wherever we are sent without possessing where we have been sent. Mark recalls how Atong does not deal too well with uncertainty and doubt. How wonderfully ironic that God gave a man who dislikes uncertainty a vocation built on not knowing what comes next. Stay another year in the Prenovitiate. Go to Zamboanga instead of Bukidnon. Become principal. VP. Superior. Leave after nine years. Xavier School for 6 months. Tertianship. Iloilo presidency.
And tomorrow? We do not know. There will still be uncertainty and anxiety, a common struggle for an Enneagram Six. Atong knows I can say this; for it takes one to know one. Atong may still be asked to go somewhere he did not choose, stay longer than expected, or leave something he has learned to love. Final Vows will not change the uncertainty. After all, Final Vows do not remove uncertainty. Rather, they relocate certainty.
Moses in our Responsory gives Atong, and all of us, the image we need today: the Rock. “You were unmindful of the Rock that begot you; you forgot the God who gave you birth.” The road may change. The mission may change. What Atong is asked to do may change. But the Rock does not. Truly, certainty finally rests on God, the Rock: in knowing the God who leads, whatever the road; in knowing to whom we belong, whatever comes next. Atong’s story began with God choosing him, calling him, and making him His own. Every vow, every mission, every office has unfolded from that first and deepest belonging.
Atong already made the first perpetual vows at the end of novitiate. He already gave himself to God in the Society for life. In a sense, that young novice said: “You may count on me.” Then followed years of formation and mission, testing and discernment, trusting and being trusted. Final Vows bring him back to that most fundamental belonging. In receiving Atong fully into its apostolic body, the Society also says: “Fr Arnel, we count on you. You belong fully to this body, and we entrust its mission to you.” Final Vows confirm a belonging already tested through time.
It is alright that the road ahead remains uncertain because what anchors Atong is certain. Atong may not know where obedience will take him. But he knows whose he is. Earlier, I quoted Mark: “Kapag si Atong ang naatasan, rest easy.” Perhaps this is the deeper grace hidden in Atong’s story: a man whom others have learned they can count on discovers more deeply the God on whom he himself can count on. And therein lies the paradox of Final Vows:
More responsibility, but deeper surrender.
More authority, but greater obedience.
More trust, but greater availability.
This brings us back to that road to Manaoag. Many years ago, Atong tried to beg. He was rejected. Napahiya. So Rico took over. Today, Rico need not beg for him anymore. Atong himself can stand before Christ, with open hands, and beg. Twenty-two years of following Christ in the Society have taught Atong that love eventually asks for more than what we can do. It demands all of ourselves.
The young man asks what he still lacks. Atong has learned from Ignatius to beg for only what is enough: “Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me.” With that, one can follow wherever Christ leads. Today, Christ says once more: “Come, follow me.” Atong knows much better what it costs. But more importantly, he knows much better Who matters most. When Atong professes his Final Vows later, he simply answers Christ: “Take, Lord, receive.” Not because he has nothing left to give. But because today, he holds nothing back.
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Preached on 17 Aug, in the Oratory of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, Ateneo de Iloilo, Iloilo City.