On the Feast Day of the Black Nazarene, millions of Filipinos once again filled the streets. Barefoot and weary, they cried, reached out, prayed, and shouted their hopes into the open air. Just days earlier, we had listened to the Gospel of the Baptism of the Lord and stood, in imagination, by the waters of the River Jordan. Two moments. One country. One wounded people. One searching faith.
At the Jordan, Jesus stepped into the water not because He needed cleansing, but because He chose solidarity. He entered the same water as sinners, the broken, the confused, and the desperate. And when He did, heaven was opened. God did not wait for humanity to become clean before drawing near. He stepped into the water with us.
On the streets during the Feast of the Black Nazarene, we witnessed a similar movement. People pressed forward and clung to the Cross not because life was easy, but because life had become unbearable. They were not foolish for believing. They were faithful because they had nothing else left to hold on to. And yet, a painful contrast confronts us.
We live in a country drowning not only in rain, but in corruption. Flooded not only by rivers, but by greed. Shaken not only by volcanoes, but by moral collapse. In moments like these, we often ask, haen ang Dios? Where is God? But perhaps the more uncomfortable question is one we rarely ask. Haen na ang mga binonyagan? Where are the baptized? The Baptism of the Lord is not only about Jesus being baptized. It is about us remembering who we are.
At the Jordan, the Father declared, You are my beloved Son. These words were spoken before Jesus preached, before He performed miracles, before He confronted injustice. Identity came first. Mission followed. That is what baptism gives us. Identity before activity. We were not baptized to escape the world. We were baptized to stand in the world, without becoming corrupted
Devotion has recently filled our streets, and that is something beautiful. But devotion without conversion becomes dangerous. Faith without conscience becomes noise. Religion without righteousness becomes empty ritual.
The Black Nazarene reminds us of a God who carries the Cross and does not avoid it. The Baptism of the Lord reminds us of a God who steps into dirty water and does not remain distant.
Here lies the hard truth we must face. We cannot kneel before the Cross on Friday and bow before corrupt systems on Monday. We cannot cry Viva Señor and remain silent when truth is crucified daily.
The rains will continue to fall. The earth will continue to shake. Calamities will come. But the greatest disaster is not a volcanic eruption or a flood. It is a baptized people who have forgotten their baptism. Baptism is not just water poured on the head. It is a mark on the soul. A responsibility. A mission.
To be baptized today means choosing honesty when corruption has become normal. It means choosing compassion when cruelty is rewarded. It means choosing truth when silence feels safer. It means choosing the Cross when compromise seems easier.
The sky opened at the Jordan. Heaven will open again only when the baptized live what they have received. The people reached for the Nazarene in procession. Now Christ reaches back and quietly asks each of us whether we are willing to carry the Cross not only in public devotion, but in daily life. The river still flows. The Cross still stands. The question is no longer where God is. The question is whether the baptized are finally ready to live as the beloved children of God.