In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.

"Are you going to watch 'Harry's Secret and the Chamber Pots'?"



Check this out.

The following is a true story.

It was a Wednesday in 1994, Holy Week. I was doing my obligatory abstinence from any luxury. My baptism was the coming Saturday, during the Easter Vigil Mass. I was caught up in intense prayer, which centered around a certain dilema: a Christian name.

For those who have known me my whole life, I've carried with myself, with understandable reasons, several aliases. I was once David, because I saw David Copperfield a few times on TV. I thought I would like to fly like him. Then I was Kelvin, because Alvin was taken up by my favorite first cousin. Why Alvin? I was crazy over the cartoon Alvin and the Chipmunks. And I was Michael, because Michael Jackson was quick with his footwork. Then Joseph, because it was, what I thought, the coolest name in the bible, and that one day, I might marry someone who was carrying someone else's child... *wong*!

Being the intellectual that I was back then, I researched on Christian names... stuff of legends like Peter, Paul, Simon, Francis, Ignatius, so on, so on... I couldn't decide what I was going to call myself when the time came for me to be reborn. I looked up the phone directory (and as a result, made a few prank calls), the orbituary, history textbooks, books of saints... etc. Even prayed about it as I did on Holy Wednesday. No answer came to me. Vexing, huh?

The next day, Maundy Thursday, I suddenly got struck by one name. I was passing by the TV (was abstaining from watching it, but my dad wasn't Christian so he could watch all the TV he wanted), I heard the mention of "Christopher". Sounds alright. Sounds like a straight Christian name. I took it up... because it had the word "Christ" in it. Yes, Sis, you were right about the reason I took "Christopher" even if you don't remember it now. I didn't need to research it at all. I had decided, and God, with all His Majesty, was going to rename me "Christopher". And I, for that part, will take on the role of what the name meant.

When I was baptised, I still didn't know what the name meant. Only later did I find out that it was Greek for "Christ-bearer".

I did my research: Christopher was the traditional name of a giant (who later became a saint - St. Christopher) who ferried people across a huge and violent river. This is ironic. I am quite small-sized. Second: One day, a small little kid came up to him on the riverbank to ask him if he could fetch the kid across the river. He thought, Hey, that would be no problem. You're just a small kid, after all. So he lifted the kid onto his back. Suddenly, he felt that the kid was very heavy! The giant thought that this child must have been the heaviest person he had to carry. It's freaky, I know. But he proceeded to ferry the child across the river. It was a hard task. Several times, he almost went under but his pride and sense of duty as a river warden pushed him to work his way through to the other side. Finally, when they got to the far bank, he let the kid jump off his back. He was panting like mad, extremely tired. He looked at the kid and suddenly realised he was look at the face of Jesus! Georg F. Handel's Hallelujah Chorus comes to mind.

The Child Jesus said, "For here onwards, you are known as Christ-Bearer, because you have carried me on your back with the weight of the sins of the world on your back." Hearing this, the newly-named Christopher was healed of his fatigue and tiredness. So, for carrying Jesus for just a short while on the river, this uneducated giant became a saint and a patron of travellers. Funny, huh?

Not so. I lived by my name in the wrong context for seven years. All that time, I had accepted that because God had named me Christopher, I was to bear the sufferings of the world, which, in a short time, broke me and landed me in the realm of self-pity. Even when I wanted to pick myself up again, I had believed tat in order for God to forgive me for my sins, I had to go through continuous suffering for the rest of my life. I had to carry my own cross.

It was only a about 5 months ago did I realised that no one can take up the cross except Jesus, that I have no power to carry the cross without the Lord. God had released me from my self-begotten burdens at once, and I became free, more free than when I was baptised. All those years, I had been doing it all wrong. But now that God has enlightened me, I realised that the mistakes that I made were from the decisions that I made under the influence of my own name. Instead of living up to God's Will, I had taken my name as a idol. I had seen too much in my own name. I lost my focus for the Lord. So now, even though I'm still Christopher Michael Ong, I'm still a child of God and will always want, in endless streams, blessings from Him.

Thank you, Lord. You have pulled me out of darkness. I thank you. All this time, You have never forsaken me, but rather, You have sustained the life in me and brought me back to Your household. When I arrived, You, like a father of a prodigal child, celebrated with my brethen with the best meats and wine. You are great, Lord Jesus, and I love You forever! Amen.

Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam