Present Miracles

Solemnity of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist

24 June 2025

 

First Reading: Isaiah 49:1-6

Responsorial Psalm: Psalm 139:1-b3, 13-14ab, 14c-15

Second Reading: Acts 13:22-26

Gospel: Luke 1:57-66, 80

 

Reflection

By: Bernard M. Borja

Two years ago, I wrote a reflection based on the same Gospel about the Nativity of John the Baptist. During that time, my son was only 2 weeks old, and I shared some of the things that made me asked, “What, then, will this child be?” Fast forward to today, I want to share some insights that I was able to gain after I continue to witness “partial miracles” and why I think I will keep asking the same question that the neighbors and relatives of Zechariah asked after his mouth opened, and his tongue freed.

My son is now a “terrific” two. I don’t want to say “terrible”, a common label referring to a toddler, because I that may also reflect how I am doing as a parent (at least in words and thought). Just like he was so busy inside his mother’s belly, he became a very active toddler running around at every chance he gets. His cries are louder now, and he can now tell what he wants and insists on it. He sleeps well now but getting him to sleep has become one of the greatest challenges for me and my wife. Everything I thought about him has evolved from an overwhelming emotional and mental rollercoaster, into a gigantic, humongous volcano with its own weather system constantly erupting and thundering inside my head. But he will always be one of our greatest miracles and we will always believe that “the hand of the Lord is always with him.” Seeing only a part of a miracle may help us hold on to faith. However, there are times seeing most of the miracle, if not all, being laid before us may add to those uncertainties that we were already thinking about. I still worry about being a good father; I still worry about guiding him properly in life; I still worry if I’ll be able to take care of him and keep him away from harm all the time. But I continue to learn that these worries are also part of the miracles that push me forward to face every obstacle head on. Because the other part of that miracle is doing my best to be a good father; one part of that miracle is learning how to guide him properly; and another part of that miracle is accepting that my son will experience hurt and pain, but I can choose to be with him as he goes through it.  Being part of a miracle may sometimes take our gaze away from its benefits. Fear came upon the neighbors of Zechariah maybe because they were overwhelmed with emotions thinking about the future that must come – especially the duties and responsibilities they will have. Like them, when we get overwhelmed by the wonderful things, we tend to focus only on the uncertainties and forget that God has always been working His miracles in us. It is also in those moments of being overwhelmed that we need to remember how God calms our hearts and remind us that we are all part of His Divine plan.

The words of the prophet Isaiah – “The LORD called me from birth…from my mother’s womb he gave me my name” – has struck me by the tender certainty of a Father’s voice speaking from the beginning. As a father guiding my little one down life’s path, I know what it feels like to carry dreams for someone who is yet to learn more about life. One of my prayers for my son, as I likely thought Zechariah also whispered to John was: “May your life shine, may your strength be well spent, may your calling be clear.” Sometimes I cannot help but think that like Isaiah’s words, “I thought I had toiled in vain” when I feel I am not giving what my son needs and deserves. Yet I marvel that every distressed effort and every uncertain step has already been intertwined into a recompense only God could plan.

The calling of John the Baptist also recounts to this Divine Plan. Chosen from the womb to prepare the way of the Lord, he lived as a father’s vision of faithfulness manifested. He did not appear on center stage for applause, but stood in the wilderness, a light of conviction, pointing beyond himself. I imagine Zechariah praising God each time his son’s voice echoed across the Jordan river, confident that every prayer of preparation, every offering of guidance, had not been wasted.

While I still ask, “What will my son be?”, I pray that I keep my eyes fixed on the present miracles: the joy of learning and discovery, the tears and comforts during hurts, and the thrill of being part of every precious moment no matter how small it is. Without seeking an answer to my question, I pray that these miracles would keep reminding me that despite fear of uncertainties, I can redirect back my gaze of partaking in the greatest miracle of God, who journeys with His children and help us grow to become strong in spirit.

Prayer

Dearest Lord, in Your perfect timing You granted Elizabeth the miracle of a son. You showed great mercy, and all who heard rejoiced. By Your providence through Zechariah, John’s name was proclaimed, defying expectation and revealing Your wonderful plan. Graciously fill our hearts with the same wonder and amazement that we may praise and glorify you despite our fears. May we, like John, grow strong in spirit, carrying Your eternal light into the desert of our lives until Your presence is revealed. AMEN.