AND why should we, like God, be forgiving also? These questions can rise after reading that gospel episode where St. Peter asked Christ how many times should he forgive someone who has offended him. (cfr. Mt 18,21-35) St. Peter dared to suggest, 7 times, which already meant a lot. But Christ told him, not only seven times, but seventy times seven times, which practically means always.
The quick answer to these questions is that no matter how we are to God and to each other, we will always remain children of God and brothers and sisters to each other. As such, we are meant to love God and everybody else, irrespective of how we behave. And it is forgiveness which is the ultimate form of love.
If God, in Christ, loves us so much that he became man and went all the way to offer his life for us, and if we are children of God who are supposed to be like God, then we too should have a love for God and for one another that is boundless.
Christ’s boundless love for us is shown not only in the fact that he offered his life for us—and as St. John said, “Greater love has no than this, that a man lays down his life for his friends” (Jn 15,13)—but he also offered forgiveness to those who crucified him. (cfr. Lk 23, 34)
We should just learn how to be forgiving the way God in Christ is always forgiving us. And the reason is because by always forgiving, we liken ourselves with God, with Christ, who is the pattern of our humanity and the savior of our damaged humanity. Forgiving is the ultimate act of love which is the very essence of God and which is also intended for us since we are supposed to be God’s image and likeness.
Thus, we have to learn to be forgiving always of others, no matter how undeserving we feel they are of forgiveness. That’s how God forgave us. He took the initiative. He offered forgiveness and continues to do so if only to bring us back to him.
The awareness of this truth should also help us to develop the attitude to forgive one another as quickly as possible, since that is the only way we can learn to love. When we find it hard to forgive others, it is a clear sign that we are full of ourselves, are self-righteous, proud and vain.
We have to continually check on our attitude towards others because today’s dominant culture is filled precisely by the viruses of self-righteousness, that feeling that we are superior to others, etc. We have to do constant battle against that culture that undermines our duty to be always forgiving.
Obviously, to be always forgiving, we need to make a lot of sacrifice since we have to conquer our pride. Forgiveness is a real game-changer since with it we would be willing to let go of whatever hurt and anger we may have. It actually takes a huge weight off our shoulders.
Pride often stems from the feeling that we have been wronged or disrespected. But with forgiveness, we can manage to let go of that feeling, enabling us to be stronger than our ego. It’s not actually about letting someone off the hook. The guilty still has to face the consequences of his acts. But with forgiveness, we free ourselves from negative vibes.
With forgiveness, we can manage to be at peace with anyone even as we continue to sort out things to fix whatever problem or issue we may have at hand.
Surviving the war
Oil prices begin to climb the moment war intensifies in the Middle East, and the tremor is felt immediately in countries that import fuel. When that happens, every bus fare, market delivery, and electric bill slowly follows the same upward path. That is precisely why this moment demands one thing from ordinary households: restraint and careful living.
I have seen this pattern before. Whenever conflict erupts in that volatile region, the global oil market reacts almost instantly because a large share of the world’s petroleum supply passes through the Strait of Hormuz. The Philippines, which imports most of its fuel, cannot escape the consequences. Once pump prices rise, transportation costs climb, food prices creep up, and the daily rhythm of family spending feels heavier. The crisis may be thousands of miles away, but its shadow falls quietly across the kitchen table.
In moments like this, the first practical adjustment is movement. Not every errand requires gasoline, and not every trip demands an engine. Walking to nearby places and riding a bicycle for short distances suddenly regained their old importance. A bicycle leaning against the wall becomes more than a childhood relic; it becomes a small declaration that survival does not always require a full tank of fuel. Many of the world’s most disciplined societies rely on this habit even in prosperous times. It would not hurt if families here rediscovered it.
Another habit worth reviving is the quiet art of planting food. A few tomato vines behind the house, a row of pechay beside the fence, or eggplants growing in recycled containers may look modest, but they reduce dependence on expensive market produce. Vegetable gardening is not a romantic hobby; it is a practical response to rising food costs. Every harvest gathered from one’s backyard is a purchase that no longer needs to be made at the market.
At the same time, households must rethink what truly deserves a place in the shopping cart. Difficult times reveal the difference between necessity and impulse. Gadgets that entertain for a few weeks, clothes that crowd the cabinet, and decorative items that gather dust do little to strengthen a family’s stability. When the economy becomes uncertain, every peso must justify its existence.
Saving money also begins with small, disciplined habits inside the home. Lights left on in empty rooms, appliances left plugged in all day, and water running longer than necessary may seem trivial, yet they quietly drain resources month after month. The wisdom of previous generations often rested on simple rules: waste nothing, repair what can still be used, and stretch every resource as far as possible. Those old habits were born from experience, not nostalgia.
What strikes me most is how crises often remind people of skills that modern comfort has pushed aside. Cooking at home instead of ordering takeout, fixing broken items instead of discarding them, and sharing resources within the family were once ordinary practices. They now return not as burdens but as practical shields against uncertainty. There is something steadying about rediscovering these small acts of self-reliance.
If the war continues to escalate, the economic ripple effects will intensify. The wise response is not panic but preparation. Families that begin tightening their spending, planting food, reducing fuel use, and setting aside savings will face the coming months with far greater confidence. In uncertain times, careful living becomes the quiet strength that keeps a household standing.