Be Another One?

 May 19, 2026 

Hello!  How is each and every one?  Last Sunday the Church celebrated the Ascension of the Lord as He said “But now I am going to Him who sent me… Nevertheless I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you.  And when he comes, he will convince the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment…” (John 16: 6-8).  This coming Sunday, we will be celebrating The Descent of the Holy Spirit (Pentecost Sunday).  Since He is also called the Great Unknown, allow me to  share with you from the Q and A Catechism by Fr. M. Guzman some basic truths about the Holy Spirit so that you and I may get to know Him a little bit and from here onwards try and learn more about Him as He is the one who is indwelling in our souls and will guide us along our way through life.

The Holy Spirit is God, the third Person of the Blessed Trinity, who proceeds from the Father and the Son.  He is equal to the Father and the Son because he is God. He dwells in the Church as the source of her life and sanctifies souls through the gift of grace.  He sanctifies us by indwelling in our souls through the gift of grace, enlightening our minds to know God by faith, and strengthening our wills to do the will of God. We should practice devotion to the Holy Spirit by striving to be constantly aware of his presence in our souls through grace; by invoking his help to enlighten our minds and strengthen our wills; and by responding immediately and faithfully to his inspirations.  Get to know Him and His seven gifts and 12 fruits.

Following now is the second word on the beatitude of the merciful (From The Cries of Jesus from the Cross, A Fulton J. Sheen’s Anthology).

Blessed Are the Merciful

At the beginning of His public life, on the hill of the Beatitudes, Our Lord preached: “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy” (Matt. 5:7). At the end of His public life, on the hill of Calvary, He practiced that beatitude as He addressed the thief: “This day you shall be with me in paradise.”

The beatitude of the world is quite different; it runs like this: “Blessed is the man who thinketh first about himself.” Life for the world is a struggle for existence in which victory belongs only to the egotists. Liberality, generosity, and graciousness are rare. How often the world insists on “rights,” how rarely does it emphasize “duties”; how often it uses the possessive “mine,” and how rarely the generous “thine.” How full it is of “courts of justice,” but how few are its “courts of mercy.”

Our Lord came to correct such an exaggerated justice, which knew no mercy. Mercy, he reminded us, was something more than a sentimental, emotional tenderheartedness. The very word mercy is derived in Latin from miserum cor, a “sorrowful heart.” Mercy is, therefore, a compassionate understanding of another’s unhappiness. 

A person is merciful when he feels the sorrow and misery of another as if it were his own. Disliking misery and unhappiness, the merciful man seeks to dispel the misery of his neighbor just as much as he would if the misery were his own. That is why, whenever mercy is confronted not only with pain, but with sin and wrongdoing, it becomes forgiveness, which not merely pardons, but even rebuilds into justice, repentance, and love.

Mercy is one of the dominant notes in the preaching of Our Lord. His parables were parables of mercy. Take, for example, the hundred sheep, the ten pieces of money, and the two sons. Of the hundred sheep, one was lost; of the ten pieces of money, one was lost; of the two sons, one led a life of dissipation.

It is interesting to note that the lost sheep is the one that was sought, and the shepherd, finding it, places it upon his shoulders and brings it into the house rejoicing. But there is no record in the Gospels of any such attention being paid to the ninety-nine sheep who were not lost.

When the woman lost a piece of money and found it, she called in her neighbors to rejoice. But there is no record that she ever called in her neighbors to rejoice in the possession of the other nine, which were never lost.

One son went into a foreign country and wasted his substance living riotously. And when he came back, he was given the fatted calf. But the brother who stayed at home was not so rewarded. All these illustrations Our Lord followed with the simple truth: “There shall be more joy in heaven upon one sinner that doth penance than upon ninety-nine just who need not penance.”

One day Peter went to Him to inquire just what limitation should be placed upon mercy. And so he asked Our Lord a question about mercy and gave what he thought was rather an extravagant limit: “How often shall my brother offend against me, and I forgive him? Till seven times?” And Our Lord answered, “Not till seven times, but till seventy times seven times” (Matt. 18:21–22). And that does not mean four hundred ninety — that means infinity. 

Developing the idea of infinite mercy, Our Lord said He had come “to heal the contrite of heart”; and that “they that are in health need not a physician, but they that are ill. . . . For I am not come to call the just, but sinners” (Mark 2:17).

Some were scandalized at Him because He “dined with publicans and sinners,” but He never ceased to remind us that we should be merciful because the heavenly Father was merciful. “That you may be the children of your Father who is in heaven, who maketh his sun to rise upon the good and bad, and raineth upon the just and the unjust. For if you love them, that love you, what reward shall you have? Do not even the publicans do this? . . . . Be ye, therefore, perfect as also your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt. 5:45–48).

Here He is suggesting that we must, like Our Heavenly Father, be merciful to those who, according to human estimation, least deserve it. That is why he was merciful to Magdalen, to the woman at the well, to Peter, who denied him, to Zacchaeus, and even to Judas, whom He addressed as “friend.”

There was no mistaking His point of view; He was interested in sinners not because of their merits, but because of their misery. And now at the close of His life, He fulfills the beatitude of mercy in His second word from the Cross. 

There were three crosses on Calvary: the crosses of two thieves and the Cross of the Good Shepherd. Of the three who hung silhouetted against that blackened sky, one only was selfish and thought of himself, and that was the thief on the left. He was interested neither in the Savior, who suffered patiently, nor in the thief who begged for mercy. He had no thought but for himself, as he addressed the Man on the central cross: “If you be Christ, save thyself and us.” 

The thief on the right, on the contrary, thought not of himself, but about others, namely, the thief on the left and Our Blessed Lord. His compassion went out to the thief on the left because he was not turning to God in this the last hour of his life and begging for forgiveness: “Neither does thou fear God, seeing thou art under the same condemnation.” He also thought of the meek Man crucified between the two of them, who had just prayed for His executioners and was innocent and good: “We indeed [suffer] justly, for we receive the due reward of our deeds; but this man hath done no evil” (Luke 23:39–41).

It is interesting to inquire why the merciful Savior not only forgave the penitent thief but even gave him the divine promise: “This day thou shalt be with me in paradise.” Why did not Our Lord address the same words to the thief on the left? The answer is to be found in the beatitude of mercy: “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy.” 

Because the thief on the right was merciful and compassionate, he received mercy and compassion. Because he was thoughtless of self, someone thought of him. There is a law about mercy just as rigid as the laws of nature. What we sow, that also we reap. If we sow sparingly, we reap sparingly. If we sow generously, we reap an abundant harvest. Raised to a spiritual level, this means, as Our Lord has said, “For with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged; and with what measure you mete, it shall be measured to you again” (Matt. 7:2).

In other words, by thinking of others, we get God to think of us. If the seed of the springtime thought only of self, but never of the soil, the rain, and the sun, it would never bloom and blossom into flower and fruit. But once it forgets itself and goes outside itself, and even dies to seed-life for the sake of the soil and the sun and the air, lo! It finds itself renewed and beautified a thousand times. If the coal in the bowels of the earth thought only of itself, it would never release its imprisoned sunlight as light and heat.

And so it is with us. Mercy is a compassion, which seeks to unburden the sorrows of others as if they were our own. But if we have no such compassion, then how can compassion ever come back to us?

Unless we throw something up, nothing will come down; unless there is an action, there can never be a reaction; unless we give, it shall not be given to us; unless we love, we shall not be loved; unless we pardon evil, our evil shall not be forgiven; unless we are merciful to others, God cannot be merciful to us.

If our heart is filled with the sand of our ego, how can God fill it with the fire of his Sacred Heart? If there is no “for sale” sign on the selfishness of our souls, how can God take possession of them?

If, then, we wish to receive mercy, we must, like the good thief, think of others, for it seems that God finds us best when we are lost in others. Blessed are the merciful; for they shall obtain mercy.

In a negative way, Our Lord has reminded us of this law of mercy in the parable of the unjust steward: 

Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened to a king, who would take an account of his servants. And when he had begun to take the account, one was brought to him that owed him ten thousand talents. And as he had not wherewith to pay it, his lord commanded that he should be sold, and his wife and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. But that servant falling down, besought him, saying: “Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all.” And the lord of that servant, being moved with pity, let him go and forgave him the debt.

But when that servant was gone out, he found one of his fellow-servants that owed him a hundred pence: and laying hold of him, he throttled him, saying: “Pay what thou owest.” And his fellow-servant falling down, besought him, saying: “Have patience with me, and I will pay you all.” And he would not, but went and cast him into prison, till he paid the debt.

Now his fellow-servants, seeing what was done, were very much grieved, and they came and told their lord all that was done. Then his lord called him and said to him: “Thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all the debt because thou besoughtest me. Shouldst, not thou then have had compassion also on thy fellow-servant, even as I had compassion on thee?” And his lord being angry delivered him to the torturers until he paid all the debt. So also shall my heavenly Father do to you, if you forgive not everyone his brother from your hearts. (Matt. 18:23–35) 

Be merciful, then, to others, if you would have God be kind to you at the last day. Think of others, rather than of yourself. Our Lord has made mercy the very soul of His Church. I think that is the reason He chose as the head of His Church, not the innocent, not the pure, not the virgin disciple John, but that impetuous, strong man called Peter — the one who had denied Him, and who, the night of the trial, cursed and swore that he knew not the Man. His merciful Lord passed him en route to the ignominy of that sorrowful night preceding Good Friday, and Peter, seeing him, went out and “wept bitterly” (Matt. 26:75). And tradition adds that Peter wept so much during his life that even his cheeks became furrowed with tears. 

And so he who knew by experience the mercy and forgiveness of Our Lord was chosen the head of the Church, in order that the Church might forever practice mercy and kindness.

There is every reason in the world for mercy. There is some good in the worst of us, and there is some bad in the best of us. The good are those who try to find some good in others, and they generally do find it. The evil are those who look for the faults of others, and as a result, never see their own. 

It was these Our Lord rebuked: “And why seest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye; and seest not the beam that is in thy own eye? Or how sayest thou to thy brother: Let me cast the mote out of thy eye, and behold a beam is in thy own eye! Thou hypocrite, cast out first the beam of thy own eye, and then shalt thou see to cast out the mote out of thy brother’s eye” (Matt. 7:3–5).

If, then, on the last day we would receive a merciful judgment, we must begin here below to be merciful to others. Just as the clouds release only the moisture, which they gathered from the earth, so too can heaven release only the mercy we have sent heavenward.

By constantly thinking of ourselves, we render ourselves incapable of receiving the kindness of others. Only to the extent that we have emptied ourselves of ourselves can God fill us with Himself. And likewise, the best way to have our prayers answered is to pray for the intentions of others: for God begins to think of us when we cease to think of ourselves. 

Therein probably must be sought the reason more of our prayers are not answered. How can God answer the prayers we address to Him unless we answer the prayers others address to us? Do we answer the prayers of the poor? The maimed? The lame? The sinner? The missionary? If not, then by what right can we expect God to answer our requests? 

How can God give us His gifts, if we never give others our gifts? How can God fill our coffers with His treasures, unless we empty them to others?

The law is as simple as that: sow, and you reap. Do not keep your seed in your barns; give it away — scatter it over the fields. Do the foolish thing: dissipate it, so that even the birds may eat of your bounty. And lo! In a short time you will find your seed increased five-, ten-, a hundredfold. But keep it in your barn, and the birds starve, and you have no increase.

Give, and you shall receive; be merciful, and you shall receive mercy. When, therefore, you are on a cross of pain or sorrow, always think of that cross as the cross of the thief on the right.

As such, let your prayers go out to those on the left cross, that they may be mindful of the expiatory value of their suffering; let your love also go out to the Good Shepherd on the central Cross, who suffers so innocently for all men, and because you never once thought of yourself but of others, or, in other words, because you were merciful, you will hear the reward of mercy from the central Cross: “This day you shall be with me in paradise.” In that way you become another good thief, for a good thief is one who steals paradise!

— The Cross and the Beatitudes

Well, what is there more to say?  So much has been tackled above.  Do you want to be another thief of the Heart of Jesus so He’d say to you what He said to the good thief?

Ask Him in the quiet moments of your conversation with Him when you talk to Him about His teachings and encounters with different persons during His public life.

See you in the next post, “May tomorrow be a perfect day; may you find love and laughter along the way; may God keep you in his tender care; ‘til He brings us together again.”

Affectionately,                    

Guadalupinky