Most professors of Old Testament based Christian faiths, and other religions of the Book would stick with the all too simplistic notion that God is just One Person, particularly a Father simplified in the understanding of ordinary human beings. Thus, it would be outright paganism or idolatry or polytheism to regard the Trinity or Three Persons in One God as a metaphysical and spiritual truth.

However, the New Testament may not have supplanted the belief in God the Father, but has revised our tendency to simplify everything when it is more complicated than it looks, deconstructing God's Image by the Patriarchs to an almost scientific and non-human construct.

Jesus have given hints to his Apostles and in various parts of the Gospel of His Divinity and Participation in the Trinity, but owing to the lack of sophistication in intellect of the majority of the people at that time, He had to be the Greatest Model of Humility and Homage to God, at that time was only The Father. In the Greek translation of Jesus' Statement "The Father and I are One", the word One is translated by the Greek word whose gender is in the neuter. Fundamentalists claim this pertains to their oneness of purpose but this is actually a glaring reference to the ultimate reality that God is neither male or female, or both, and Jesus, even He is incarnated as Man, His Divinity or Godhood is truly closer to the neuter, which is not human, but actually both human and more than human.

They have also argued that the preceding lines of John 10:30 convey the shared purpose of Jesus and God the Father of taking care of the "sheep" but actually, it also said there "I give them eternal life". Now which man today can give eternal life? Only God can give eternal life. With Jesus saying "I give them eternal life" together with "The Father and I are One", isn't this too much of a coincidence that the more perceptive amongst us would interpret this as subtle hints that Jesus is actually saying He is God? Other clues are "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life, whoever believes in me shall not perish but will have eternal life (John 14:6)."

Why could He not say He is God outright. For the simple reason that such theological and metaphysical complexities could not be understood immediately by Jews or anyone at that time, and during that time, the Greek philosophers had only partially perfected the arguments regarding idealism and abstract concepts. Being God, He should be the First to show How to Adore and Humble oneself before God, "For the first will be the last and the last will be the first."

There is nothing wrong with abiding only in the doctrine of worshipping only God the Father, however, it could be a great disservice to the King of Kings, the One Who is to Sit on the Throne, if until now, people have not yet comprehended the Nature of Christ. "My Sheep shall know me, and they shall hear My Voice."

With God, everything is possible.

I remember my sisters telling me that when mom and dad had these interminable quarrels, with my mom the violent and raucous aggressor, my father would drink himself to oblivion and sleep in the office. I myself, I saw him one time when I was like 6 years old, sleeping off a very odoriferous and heavy hangover, with his clothes and luggage thrown out by my mom, scattered on the lawn. Most of the times when he was gone I usually assumed he's at the office, drunk, or playing chess with his co-accountants. I also thought the guards were tolerant of him. When he did that, there was a semblance of peace in the house. But not for long. Mom usually turned on my fellow siblings, and I would end up crying and sobbing when I saw tears falling from one of my sisters' eyes.

Upon reaching 20 I started drinking heavily. Gin, beer, wine, rum, whiskey, scotch, vodka, and cocktails were my bestfriends. I also smoked, pack after pack, just like my dad. Hence, my acute asthma. Hence, my good old soft spoken dad, that former GI who fought Japs in the jungles of Asia, succumbed to lung cancer in 1982. I used to cry to ceiling, shouting, why, why do I have to lose such a wonderful dad? He was the most talented in his family. He was good sketcher, like I am. He was poet, like I am. He was gentleman. He'd punch muggers and abusers of women into submission. He was a knight of modern times. My dear good old poor dad, that's why when I pray for him, I imagine him playing chess like I used to watch him, outfoxing his colleagues. He'd wave back at me.

When I want to reflect, just be alone, I'd sleep sometimes at the office. My wife, knowing the story of my life, understands, trusts me. The guards tolerate me too, us sharing donuts and coffee and a few ribald comments. It's like reliving my father's moments of peace, respite from the rancors at home.

I miss my dad. I think he has done a great deal for my life in his absence as with his presence. Missing him somehow strengthened my faith and made me hope all the more for reunion with him in our final spiritual home.

I wrote this story for another blog. It's an autobiography of sorts, recalling his final moments when I was a kid:

"I think 1982 is a good year to die. My body is all swollen. My lungs may as well be breathing in shards of glass. I am in constant excruciating pain. My God, thank God this will soon end. The waking moments wherein this man fought against the Imperial Army in the jungles of Bikol, my memorable first dance with Pearl, or my promotions in the government have come to this. I am drifting in and out of consciousness, but these hours are all the more precious for me, and this eight-year-old boy beside me. My son, who is oblivious of the cancer cells consuming me, is the only one who has made me so happy in these my last days.

All my children and even my wife have more and more left me alone in this room. I hold no bitterness. Humans don’t feel easy around a terminally ill person. I reckon they could not bear seeing my pain as I am committed to this bed, the smell of sickness all around. All kept away as much as possible, except perhaps my favorite daughter Simone. But it was my son who really lay beside me more than the others.

I remember when he would stay up late at night just to wait for me arriving from work. He would take off my smelly socks and bring me my slippers, looking up to me with my own round brown eyes on his face, smiling like a cherub. I also remember when he dropped his spoon and fork when I suddenly bellowed at him for holding his utensils the wrong way. Yet unfortunately, my time with him was too few and far between. It’s too late to change that.

He touches my hand with his small fingers as he sits across me. Silently, he looks into my eyes, waiting for me to get well so that we can visit again the Zoo. He has learned to operate the Sony cassette player beside the bed to play for me Stardust Melody, Tennessee Waltz, and Green Green Grass of Home, melodies that calmed me after the war.

My son climbs up my bed and snuggles close to me. He seems not to smell the last aromas of necrotic tissues around my chest. Here he is, smiling in his sleep. I can’t even wipe off the tears flowing down my cheeks, knowing very, very well that I will not be there for him as he grows up. I had written his aunt Honey to take care of his studies when I’m gone.

Let me hug you one last time, son. I love you. I love your mother, brothers, and sisters. You have made me the proudest father ever. Goodbye. I will still watch over you. I can’t leave you.

You may not know me, your father, completely, but I will know you very well."

I believe it's never too late or totally unnecessary to recall sins done in the past, and then feel more remorse for it now than before. And one of the most grave I have lived is being an atheist, that is, denying the existence of God despite having intuited Him in the magnificence of Nature, like a blazing cool sunrise amid iridiscent clouds, much much early before I felt Him in a church or worship house.

I have no excuse, when I think of it now, even when the cruelties I have experienced as a child and adolescent made me think that He may not be Living after all, giving in to that seduction that since there is so much evil in the world and in my experience, therefore, that. I felt Him, I adored Him with my first truly conscious morning breath but after the darkness has fell, how weak was I.

It is truly a great Mercy from Him that He has spoken through His Messengers and Beloved on Earth that I came back around and finally humbled myself to acknowledge His Being and finally feel His Infinite Love even through all that suffering. But it is no easy experience or past, or a phase that I have gone through. Looking back, I cringe at the thought of what if, what if I remained stolid and stubborn despite overwhelming evidence, or the cries of my own human heart?

My Dear Beautiful and Loving Lord God, Oh My Almighty God, My Omnipotent Creator, please, I ask forgiveness for this lowly servant, this ignorant fool, that he has the audacity to not see You with the eyes that You have fashioned out of Your Loving Hand. Oh My Dear Lord, I cry out my shame and remorse, and accept my sufferings as atonement for my impurity and unworthiness.

Praise Be Your Eternal Name. Thou art Our Lord God, Forever and EVer!

I saw her on the hospital, taking a leave of absence from the office so as I can look after her after her caesarean delivery, and she was a pitiful sight on the hospital bed. She could barely speak, she was swollen all over. She had the smell of a sick person, although she was injected with more antibiotics that I could take in my lifetime, all because, for her love for me, she bore our youngest child Ronn, even that she knew that her pregnancies were getting complicated each time.

Oh, I prayed so hard to Our Lord beloved God, that May 3, that He preserve my beloved wife from lasting harm, and He did answer my prayer. Now, she is so well that she could carry all those heavy laundry without my help, although I reminded her from then on not to carry anything heavy until I come home from work.

I guess I was guilty really not praying as much as I think I should have prayed to Our God concerning my wife's recovery from surgery but I was genuinely afraid of what might happen if in case God...but now I know what I think or fear doesn't really influence God's decision. HE KNOWS MORE ABOUT WHAT WE NEED THAN WE KNOW ABOUT WHAT WE WANT.

Now I have a very healthy wife and newborn who never cease to babble cheerfully everytime I come home, my beloved son, and I have always prayed that he will serve all of God's Will on earth and that my son will glorify His Glorious and Everlasting Name.

Recently our pastor told us to totally trust in the Lord, and that even himself is just an instrument of God's Saving Grace and Healing Power. Was I an instrument of my wife's healing? I hope so.

I take this chance to thank Our Great Creator for making everything alright for my wife and newborn son, who at for months, is the most eloquent baby I've ever heard and beheld.

Oh My Dear Immortal Lord, Lord of All, Kind and Gentle and Merciful God, thank You for curing and bringing my wife from the brink of nothingness to being my companion in nurturing life in Your Beautiful and Glorious Unfolding of Creation that is a Testament of Your Magnificence.

Praised be Your Holy Name MY Lord My God!

Well, life has plenty of reasons to celebrate, just like Independence Day. But sometimes, one can feel that celebrating may be inappropriate when reflection stemming from unpleasant experiences may be more important than having a good time.

I have been reflecting on my recent visit to my mother's.

I came there to check on my brother and despite the modicum of distaste it brings me whenever I'd be exposed once more to her words that I'd rather have muted to somebody else's ears, I'd sometime regret even having stepped on the cracked porch.

So I went on in and saw my mom as she's never been so emaciated before. She was so thin! Couple that with not wearing her dentures when she met me at the foyer, I was moved with pity as to the frailty of her appearance, this once an iron lady of our household.

She told me that she has not eaten for days because of some glitch in the computers where she gets her pension money, she's without any doe to buy food and she was to proud to call us or ask some from her wary but still kindly neighbors in that not-so-good part of my city.

"I'll be back a sec, okay Mom?"

I went to the nearby grocer, with all the money in my pocket (I dare not withdraw from the ATM nearby, always the paranoid guy, I am.) and bought all the foodstuffs she and my alcoholic brother would need and certainly draw nutrition from, so I deliberately left out cholesterol-rich stuff and more on veggies and fruits and a lot of bread and cereals.

I came back, my arms laden with bulky paper bags, and handed them to her. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and thanked me in such a way that really unnerved me, like she just showed me after a very long time her vulnerability.

I checked on my brother. As usual, I found him sleeping off a hang-over, with a little puke on his shirt. I made a mental note to bring him some shirts my wife bought me that I didn't like. I wanted to bring him to our house in the hopes that I could get him to stop drinking, but my wife just said one word: the kids.

My mom saw me out of the door and though she wanted to thank me profusely, I don't know, she didn't have the heart to say it, though her eyes did. I just want to run away, flee the place that very sec. Because I didn't want her to see me cry. Because, memories flashing in my mind that moment, I saw how she ignored my crying when she tore my Spidey and Superman comic books when I was a little boy. She went on throwing my He-Man action figures in the trash her fellow workers brought me as gifts. She took the picture of my first girlfriend, and when I asked for it, she said she disposed of it and I should concentrate my studies.

I didn't know why that came about in my head, but I figured that won't change anything now. I fled, and stopped at a vacant lot a few blocks down, and sobbed my heart out. A few neighborhood teenagers called me a sissy. I didn't care.

I went home.

Why the sudden flashback? is it my vengeful self? Is it just a psychological comparison of the past and present? Is Our Lord telling me something here? Am I asking the wrong questions? All I know right now, I will go back and check on them more often.

I am praying for them, for you, and for all my friends. And I am praising God that I am still alive and well.

Happy Fourth everybody.