THAT’S what we can draw from that gospel episode where Christ brought to life the dead son of a widow in the city of Nain. (cfr. Lk 7,11-17) He was just passing by, and he saw the dead body carried away for burial. Without asking any question, he was moved with compassion and then proceeded to resurrect the dead body, returning the son to his mother.
Of course, the people were floored with amazement. As the gospel narrates, “fear seized them all, and they glorified God, exclaiming, ‘A great prophet has arisen in our midst,’ and ‘God has visited his people.’” (Lk 7,16)
With this gospel episode, we have basis to believe that no matter how we are in our life, in the end it will be God’s love and mercy that will have the last say. No questions asked!
And this belief can be reinforced by what St. Paul once said: “Where sin abounded, grace did abound more exceedingly.” (Rom 5,20) Even more, we should not forget that right at the moment when Christ was about to die on the cross, he offered forgiveness to those who crucified him. “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.” (Lk 23,34)
This should give us a lot confidence in our life where, in spite of our efforts, we cannot help but fall into some anomaly and sin, one way or another, sooner or later. This confidence in God’s love and mercy, however, should not lead us to take things easy and, worse, to abuse God’s goodness.
They should rather prod us to ever do our best in following God’s will and ways. And when we fall, we should be quick to recover by asking for forgiveness and for making atonement for our sins.
We should remember that while God’s love and mercy will have the last say, the requirements of justice will never be set aside. But it’s a justice that is divine, always animated by compassion and mercy.
Why is that so? The plausible answer is that no matter how we behave in this life, we continue to be God’s children. It’s like in any normal family. The children may be misbehaving, but the parents, while clarifying things and perhaps giving some measure of punishment, will always love their children. They will do everything to save their children.
And that is what God is precisely doing with us. And he now wants us to be like him. That’s why Christ said: “Love one another as I have loved you.” (Jn 13,34) And that love for one another is precisely expressed in its ultimate form when Christ said: “Forgive and you shall be forgiven.” (Mt 6,14) That’s why Christ also said that we should not forgive only 7 times, but 70 times 7, meaning always. (cfr. Mt 18,21-22)
At the end of the day, justice has to give way to mercy. If we follow Christ, this is what we should do. In his most unfair trial, Christ remained silent when he could have defended himself abundantly. But he remained quiet and allowed the erratic wheel of human justice to roll on.
He did it only for one sole purpose—to redeem us. He had to pay for the debt we could not pay. He had to assume all the sins of men, die to them so that with his resurrection, we also would have a way to recover our dignity as children of God if we also die with Christ.
State of desperation
As the country’s debts keep rising, billions vanish from the government coffers, piled high on the backs of ordinary Filipinos. This is corruption at its most shameless form, where public funds meant to build schools, hospitals, and roads are plundered while citizens are left gasping under the weight of poverty. What is happening is despicable, and it has stripped the people of hope that the country will ever move forward.
One does not need a magnifying glass to see the scale of this rot. Commission on Audit reports year after year reveal anomalies that stretch into billions—overpriced supplies, ghost projects, and missing funds. What is meant for classrooms ends up in the luxury cars of politicians; what is borrowed for public health is siphoned into private pockets. The tragedy is that these numbers are not abstract figures, but lifeblood drained from the nation, money that should have saved lives, uplifted families, and built opportunities for a better future.
The burden is not just economic—it is deeply moral. Corruption normalizes greed, dulls the conscience, and teaches the next generation that dishonesty is the only way to get ahead. Children grow up seeing the same faces accused of plunder returning to power, unashamed, unpunished, and even applauded. This moral bankruptcy is far more dangerous than the loans themselves, because it hollows out the very soul of a nation. How can people believe in justice when the thieves walk free and the poor must carry the debts they never benefited from?
Filipinos have long been known for their resilience, but resilience has its breaking point. When salaries barely cover basic needs, when jeepney drivers struggle with rising fuel costs, when farmers sell their produce for less than the cost of production, the knowledge that billions have been pocketed by officials is like salt rubbed into an open wound. People are not simply struggling with poverty—they are choking on the betrayal of leaders who were entrusted with their welfare.
Every peso borrowed by the government is a peso that citizens will pay for through taxes. And yet, the cycle is obscene: funds are borrowed, pocketed, lost to corruption, and then repaid by the very people who never saw the fruits of those loans. It is like being forced to pay for a banquet where one was never invited, while the same gluttons who gorged themselves rise from the table untouched and smiling. This is why hopelessness festers—because the system itself is rigged against the people.
The damage extends beyond the present generation. The ballooning national debt means that even unborn Filipinos are already in the red, shackled before they can even take their first breath. What could have been their schools, their hospitals, their public parks are mortgaged away by thieves whose names are etched not in history books of greatness but in ledgers of crime. The theft of the nation’s wealth is not just about missing billions—it is about stolen futures.
What makes the betrayal unbearable is the impunity. Scandals come and go, senators and congressmen conduct hearings for show, investigations are dragged out until the public forgets, and in the end, no one of consequence goes to jail. It is this culture of consequence-free plunder that has hardened into the nation’s greatest curse. If thieves are rewarded instead of punished, then corruption ceases to be an aberration and becomes the system itself.
There is only one way out of this cycle: accountability must be real, swift, and ruthless against those who treat public office as a personal business. Institutions must not only expose anomalies but also ensure convictions. Filipinos deserve a government that treats every peso with sacred trust, for this money is the sweat of laborers, the sacrifice of OFWs, and the hope of every child yearning for a future. Without this, the people’s despair will not end, and the dream of national prosperity will remain forever stolen.