04/04/2021
๐๐จ๐ฐ ๐ ๐๐๐ญ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฌ
๐๐ฒ ๐๐จ ๐๐๐ง๐๐ก๐๐ณ
As a kid, I remember my dad putting his arm around my shoulder and saying, โYouโre my favorite son.โ
โGee, Dad, thanks,โ Iโd say, feeling wonderful. Until I found out he didnโt have much choice. I was his only son.
But Iโm the youngest with five older sisters.
He used to joke me, โI almost named you Atlas. Because when the doctor said I had a boy, I said, โAt last!โโ
Mom and Dad were very Catholic. Together with my evil sisters, er . . . I mean my elder sisters, we went to Mass, wore a scapular, prayed the rosary with the family every night, and learned religion in a Catholic school. So I knew about Jesus. Sort of. But something radical happened when I was twelve years old.
๐๐๐ข๐ซ๐ ๐๐ญ๐ฎ๐๐
It was another Friday night, and my mother invited me to their little Catholic prayer meeting. For the past six months, my parents and sisters had been attending something weird on Friday night. Theyโd go home with stories of how people prayed in tongues, got healed, received miracles. Really strange.
But even as kid, I knew something was happening to them. First, I noticed my sisters were different. They were kinder to their cute and lovable brother. Second, my entire family was excited about God. I never saw that happen before. They kept talking about Jesus like He was real.
But one day, they wanted to pull me into their weird stuff. It was nice just watching them from a distance as they went through this transformation, but when my mom wanted me to join them, I told her, โSorry, Mom, Iโm too young to give my life to God. Besides, isnโt this thing for old people and women?โ
In my mind, I thought to myself, โGee, I havenโt yet puffed my first cigarette, havenโt tasted my first bottle of beer, havenโt had a girlfriend. Perhaps when I get older, Iโll attend that prayer meeting.โ
Like when Iโll be seventy-five years old.
๐๐ฒ ๐
๐ข๐ซ๐ฌ๐ญ ๐๐ซ๐๐ฒ๐๐ซ ๐๐๐๐ญ๐ข๐ง๐
My father, however, was a stubborn man. He said, โIf Bo doesnโt want to go to the prayer meeting, weโll bring the prayer meeting to Bo.โ
I didnโt know what he meant by that.
After praying the rosary one night as a family, Dad stood up and said, โWeโre going to have a prayer meeting right now.โ
โJeepers, Dad. Itโs Starsky and Hutch on TV!โ (Yes, thatโs how old I am.)
โSit!โ my father commanded, and so I did. He then asked all of us to close our eyes and hold our hands together. Naturally, holding hands with my older sisters was a nightmare for a twelve-yearold boy. Clowning around, I closed only one eye, curious at what my father will do next.
I was expecting another barrage of formula prayers, like โOur Fatherโ and โHail Mary,โ but Dad simply talked to God from his heart. I looked at the peace on my fatherโs face and realized he actually believed God was listening to him.
Was God really there in front of him? Didnโt the Almighty have more important things to do than be in our living room?
I didnโt want to admit it, but praying with Dad made me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
However, lest my family discover that I was being โtouched,โ I tried to make my face as stiff and angry as possible.
That was when the most unpredictable thing happened. My dad saw my stony face, stood up, and casually placed his hand on top of my head. He then said, โIn Jesusโ name, devil, get out!โ
What did he say? The devil was in me?
Actually, Dad didnโt know what he was doing. He just wanted me to get closer to God and he was willing to try anythingโincluding imitating TV evangelists in their exorcisms.
As if reading my thoughts, everyone in the family stretched their arms toward me and shouted in unison, โAmen!
But because he was very new in this whole thing, he started committing mistakes.
โIn Jesusโ name, devil, get out!โ he said again and again. And then the big blunder came when he said, โJesus, Jesus, Jesus, get out! Get out! Get out!โ
My mother was the first to discover the great heresy that was happening, so she elbowed him hard and said, โYour prayer is all wrong! Youโre asking Jesus to go out!โ (That happened many, many years ago. For the next six years, my father still felt a dull pain on his lower left rib cage.)
So my fatherโs face turned white, and in panic, said to the family, โQuick! Letโs pray again! Letโs pray again!โ
โJesus,โ he implored out loud, โcome back!โ
๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ๐จ๐ง๐๐ฅ ๐๐ง๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ๐๐ซ
OK, I exaggerated the story to make you laugh.
Hereโs what really happened: After my first ever prayer meeting with my family, I asked, โDad, what happened to you?โ
He said, โI came to know God personally.โ He paused for a second as if searching for how to explain himself, and then asked me, โDo you know Ferdinand Marcos?โ
I frowned. โOf course, I know him. Heโs the president of the Philippines.โ
Dad shook his head. โNope, you donโt know him.โ
โYes, I do! He lives in Malacaรฑang and comes from Ilocos and his wifeโs name is Imelda.โ
โIf you really know him,โ my father smiled,
โdo you pick up the phone and dial his number and say, โFerdie, are we playing golf today?โโ
I got his point.
He went on, โYou donโt know him. You know about him. And thatโs what happened in my faith. There was a time when I knew about God. Today, I know Him.โ
My life has never been the same since that day.
๐๐ฒ ๐๐ข๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง ๐๐ง๐ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ข๐จ๐ง
So growing up as a teen, Jesus became real to me. He wasnโt just some dusty historical figure. Or a faraway deity sitting on the throne, oblivious to what was happening to me.
I came to know Jesus as the God who loved me perfectly and completely. The God who knew me through and through, including all my weaknesses, and still accepted me, treasured me, and celebrated me. The God who was involved in my daily struggles, no matter how tiny or trivial they were.
I realize that all the Catholic stuff I did as a kid
was a beautiful foundation. And the moment I got to know Jesus, I began to understand my Catholic faith. And little by little, I discovered its depths.
So for the past forty years, my mission and passion has been to invite all Catholics to encounter this person named Jesus.
Through this book, I invite you to discover Him, and in the process, discover how beautiful and amazing your Catholic faith is.
Without Jesus, the Church is a human organizationโnothing else. Its doctrines and its rituals will never give you life. But because of Jesus, the Church becomes the living Body of Christ, and she becomes life-giving.
In this book, I share with you the ten biggest reasons why I love being Catholic. There are many more reasons, but for this book, I chose the ones closest to my heart.
Through this book, may you meet Jesus and follow Him forever.
*This excerpt is taken from Why I Love Being Catholic By Bo Sanchez, available on paperback and e-book copy at
https://bit.ly/feastbooks_forbetteryou
