A woman once told a crowded prayer meeting, “I was born a Christian. I’ve been one all my life.” The room nodded in agreement, but that statement didn’t sit right with me. Christianity, in its truest and most biblical sense, is not something one inherits like a surname. It is not passed down by bloodline, religion, or rituals—it is something that begins in the soul when the Holy Spirit uses the gospel to awaken it.

For far too long, Christianity has been considered a religion, merely one more denomination of the countless religions people list on forms and documents. However, the New Testament never described it as a religion. When Jesus Christ came, he did not invite men and women to join a religion. He did not establish a denomination. He came to seek and save the lost (Luke 19:10). He made a call—a personal, redemptive relationship between a guilty sinner and a spotless savior. That call remains today, untouched by time or tradition.

The gospel heralds biblical Christianity. Not the prosperity gospel, the social justice gospel, or the gospel of good works, but the gospel of Christ crucified, buried, and raised. It is the story of the God who became flesh to absorb the punishment of sin on our behalf. That chronicle, when rightly understood, shatters man’s pride and stirs the heart to faith and repentance. It is not the emotion that leads to salvation, but a conscious recognition of guilt, a surrender to Christ’s work on the cross, and a trust so total that one no longer relies on his own righteousness.

Religion states, “Do.” Christ states, “Done.” That is Christianity. It is not church going, candle-burning, ritualized reciting of prayers, or religious playing games. It is believing with the heart that Jesus is Lord and confessing with the mouth that God has raised him from the dead (Romans 10:9). When a man does it from a position of knowledge and belief, that man is saved, not on merit, but by grace through faith.

Once that relationship has been established, it does not languish. It grows through constant companionship with Christ. Prayer is no longer a burden, but a source of power. The Bible is no longer a book, but a voice. Obedience is no longer law, but a joy instinct. There is no need to play—act for men, no need to gain an approving smile from a priest or pastor. The believer is dwelling in day-to-day talk with the same Christ who dwells in him. It is intimate, ongoing, and actively alive.

Such a Christianity is hard to counterfeit. It bears fruit. Not flashy things that receive their payoff in admiration, but subtle changes of disposition: patience rather than shortness of temper, humility where there was pride, cleanliness where there was filth, and care where there was hardness of heart. Christ in a man doesn’t merely alter his Sunday habit—He transforms his heart, his decisions, and even his worldview. He sees people not as obstacles or enemies but as souls in desperate need of the very same mercy that he received.

Because of that consciousness, a genuine Christian cannot hold his peace. Sharing the gospel is the inevitable overflow of that relationship. One does not preach out of obligation but out of necessity—because having seen what sin has done and what Christ has to give, one cannot bear to keep quiet. True evangelism is not recruitment into religion; it is presenting the savior to a sinful, hell-bound soul.

If this earth needs anything, it is a return to this primitive Christianity—uncompromising, unadorned, and founded upon Christ himself. Not on the modes of men, not on the forms of culture, but on the living intimacy between a sinner and the Savior. In a generation where churches are teaching comfort, community dependence, and reliance on group service, it is imperative for people to personally consider Calvary’s cross where blood was shed, sin was conquered, and love—pure, unmerited, and holy—was outpoured. Ushering this love into a personal relationship with Christ as savior and Lord allows biblical Christianity to exist.

THAT’S what we can get from the gospel story about the two sisters, Martha and Mary. (cfr. Lk 10,38-42) If love is pure, we would not show off the things we do, baiting for praises; we would not compare ourselves with others to see if we are better lovers; we would just give and give without counting the cost; we would give our whole heart unconditionally to our beloved who in the end is God!

The problem with Martha was precisely that of comparing her love with what she saw was the inferior kind of love her sister, Mary, showed to Christ. It’s a phenomenon that, sad to say, is very common since time immemorial, and especially these days when the hunger for recognition seems to be sharper among many people in general.

Many people today like to flaunt the good things they do. They like to compare themselves with others. They even go to the extent of indulging in virtue signalling their own deeds while gaslighting those whom they consider to be not as good as they are.

To have pure love, we have to start with the purity of our intentions, since they express who and where in the end we want to be. Do we choose to be with God completely, or do we play games trying to do things for others when fact things are done more for ourselves?
We need to realize then that we have to take utmost care of our intention, making it as explicit as possible, and honing it to get engaged with its proper and ultimate object who is God.

We should try our best to shun being simply casual or cavalier about this responsibility. We can easily play around with it, since intentions are almost invariably hidden from public knowledge. We are urged to be most sincere in directing our intentions properly.

We can easily fall into hypocrisy and deception, doing what can appear good externally but is not internally, since we could refuse giving glory to God, which is the proper intention to have, and instead feed and stir our vanity, pride, greed, lust, etc.

If our love is pure, we would do a lot of good while passing unnoticed. All the glory should belong to God. We have to rid ourselves of any signs that would show that we want to divert the glory, even if only partially, to ourselves.

We are reminded of this danger when Christ said, “Take care not to perform righteous deeds in order that people may see them; otherwise, you will have no recompense from your heavenly Father.” (Mt 6,1)

And he continued by saying, “When you give alms, do not blow a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets to win the praise of others. Amen, I say to you, they have received their reward.” (6,2)

As we can see, the intention of our human acts plays a crucial role. With it, we can determine whether we are truly good and moral, or are simply playing around, playing the game of hypocrisy, appearing righteous when we truly are not.

We know that with our intention, we can direct our acts to God, following what was once indicated by St. Paul, “Whether you eat or drink, or whatsoever else you do, do all to the glory of God.” (1 Cor 10,31) That’s how our acts become good, or moral, an expression of pure love. Otherwise, they are bad, or at least dangerous.

In an era where education often leans heavily on science, technology, and mathematics, it is essential to recognize the profound impact of Music and Arts in shaping holistic learners. For the Philippines, a country rich in cultural heritage and artistic tradition, the call for enhanced integration of Music and Arts in elementary and secondary curricula is both timely and necessary.

Music and Arts are powerful mediums through which Filipino students can explore their identity and heritage. The Philippines boasts a diverse tapestry of indigenous rhythms, dances, and visual styles rooted in centuries of history. Embedding these into the classroom offers more than aesthetic appreciation—it nurtures pride in cultural roots and fosters a sense of belonging.

Studies have shown that engagement in the arts enhances critical thinking, problem-solving, and emotional intelligence. Music cultivates auditory skills and mathematical reasoning, while visual arts encourage spatial understanding and creativity. These cognitive benefits are especially crucial in the formative years of elementary and secondary education, where foundational skills are built.

Contrary to outdated beliefs, Music and Arts are not distractions from “serious” subjects; rather, they reinforce learning. Students engaged in the arts often show improved focus, better memory retention, and increased motivation. A vibrant curriculum with artistic elements reduces absenteeism and fosters deeper engagement across subjects.

While it is true that music and arts nowadays are not that popular , the heart and the mind is without a doubt, is its biggest fan.

Creativity and peace come through it thus, it must be reintegrated strongly, sturdily, now more than ever, we need Music and Arts.