This Week’s Winner
Fr. Nilo A. Lardizabal, OP, 30, is a Dominican religious priest assigned to the Bahay Domi-niko, in Quezon City. He is pursuing his doctorate in philosophy at UST. In June 2008, he was appointed the provincial secretary of the Dominican province of the Philippines.
Fr. Nilo A. Lardizabal, OP, 30, is a Dominican religious priest assigned to the Bahay Dominiko, in Quezon City. He is pursuing his doctorate in philosophy at UST. In June 2008, he was appointed the provincial secretary of the Dominican province of the Philippines.
MANILA, Philippines – I am a teacher of philosophy. And I love it. Unfortunately, philosophy is often misunderstood as a course for the insane and weird. To some extent, it’s true. But at the time when people think them insane, it is then when lovers of wisdom are actually inspired.
A few months back I was rather low and depressed over a news item about a young man studying in a good university who had committed suicide. It disturbed me for two reasons: that the young man was a student of philosophy; and the reason (or one of the reasons) he committed suicide was philosophy. Besides offering a Mass for his eternal repose, it made me think a lot about these philosophical endeavors.
Accordingly, this man, obviously from his readings, was convinced of this notion: If humans are bound to die sooner or later, what’s the reason for living it?
He committed suicide by suffocation. If there were other reasons for his desire of death I do not know, but it seems philosophy had a lot to do with it. Faced with this, I grappled with the question: “Why?” Gandhi came to mind, for he enunciated that it is all right to be open-minded, even liberal, so long as one is not swayed by every belief one encounters. I love philosophy and I encounter a lot of ideas, including those contrary to my faith, even blasphemous, but it doesn’t mean I have to be influenced by what I read.
Still trying to find answers, something caught my eye accidentally while I was shopping. It was a lone book on sale: The Meaning of Life by E.D. Klemke. I thought, besides the scriptures, maybe answers to my queries could be found there. I was right.
The book is profound yet simple. At first glance, the cover proves unattractive and drab, yet the contents are significant. Page by page I encountered men and women of philosophy, who, like so many others, sought meaning in their lives. Interestingly, the book has two major thrusts: a theistic response and a non-theistic one. There are some who find meaning ultimately in God or a Supreme Being. The other half says no, we are creatures toward death. At the very moment of our existence, we are bound to die. Either way, both views are worth encountering.
Let’s consider the latter first. They say that even without God, life can be meaningful. Living life to the fullest involves enjoying what the world has to offer — perhaps a trek around the globe, or the simple vanities to make one happy. And from here one garners purpose. Amen to that! Yet I recall a rich classmate I had in college. He was so rich that rich people borrowed money from him! When he learned that I wanted to be a priest, he chided, quite innocently: “Ang corny naman ng buhay mo.” Probably true. But then I gave him a litany of his wealth — houses, cars, assets, yachts. And I asked him very sheepishly: “Are you happy?” With eyes looking away, and after the longest pause in his life, he finally said: “No.”
He asked the same of me and I simply said: “I am very happy. More than I can tell you.” There’s something significant in a “corny” life, after all.
Life is grand indeed. One can be happy with wealth, wishes and wisdom, but they are all temporary. Maybe life can be meaningful even without them. In this book, philosophers are convinced that life is absurd — that there are just a host of possibilities that one cannot fulfill anyway, or even if they had a thousand choices, all may prove unfruitful. Quite pessimistic, yet there is truth to this. But I think that it is through these very choices that meaning in life can emerge. I can choose to be pessimistic now. It is exclusive; it is a choice that I make — who can take that away from me? I can choose to worry about the things that are not yet. That’s my right. But the reality is I become miserable in the process. Or, conversely, I can make the choice to be optimistic in life — to see the light at the end of tunnel. I can choose not to make myself miserable by doing and giving my best every day to make me happy. Then meaning in life emerges.
With the progress of the Internet, e-mail, Facebook, Friendster and others, I encounter my classmates in high school. They are now lawyers, doctors, engineers and teachers. Some have become very rich; as a priest, I’m the one left as poor. I look back at the choice I made a decade back. I gave up everything in order to live a life of service. Was it worth it? The answer is always a resounding “yes.” It was — is — worth it.
Some classmates asked me about my career as a lawyer and teacher before. I said that I am a teacher. And I love it. What about losing my family? I said I never lost them; in fact, I gained brothers — priests and seminarians! Not to mention the sisters. What about married life? I said that the religious life is meaningful if I find meaning in married life. If such a life is special, and indeed it is, and I gave it up for the religious life, then there must be something special, too, in the life I chose.
Then we came back to the same old question. “Are you happy?”
More than I can tell you! I found meaning in the life I chose. Who can take that away from me?
Life becomes meaningful when God is in the picture. Many people come to me, young and old, seeking advice, counsel or confession. You’d be shocked to know how many are unaware of the reality that God loves them.
This comes close to what some philosophers in the book say. But I speak as a lover of wisdom: We find meaning in our choices. We can choose to be miserable or to be the happiest person in the world.
What would you choose?