Homily delivered by Archbishop Socrates B. Villegas during the Chrism Mass at the Cathedral of Saint John the Evangelist, Dagupan City on Thursday, April 2, 2026
Beloved brothers:
Today, as we renew our priestly promises and bless the holy oils, we stand on the threshold of the Easter Triduum, confronting a world heavy with troubles. Wars rage, uncertainties loom, oil and gas prices crush the poor, empty stomachs multiply and daily wages barely sustain life. Anxiety spreads like a shadow, turning us into a people stumbling from crisis to crisis. Like that old song sighs, “Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, now it looks as though they’re here to stay.”
Yet in this Mass, Christ calls us to renew our anointing as priests, not to despair, but to be his witnesses of hope amid the storm. How ironic that the oils we will bless today will be used for healing and joyous anointing; while the oil in the deserts of the Mideast are sources of war and conflict. We need the oil of the Lord and less the oil of wars.
This Chrism Mass reveals the profound communion of you my brother priests with me your archbishop in Christ’s priesthood and ministry. We come from every corner of the archdiocese, not as isolated laborers, but as cooperators in consecrating the oil of gladness that anoints the baptized, confirms the faithful, prepares catechumens, comforts the sick and ordains the priests of the future.
Our celebration unfolds in a fractured world. Moral darkness has fallen — not as divine revenge, but as self-inflicted conviction. Darkness fell on us when we heard how God was cursed and we priests tolerated the blasphemous laughter. Darkness fell upon us when we priests ignored the blood of drug addicts flowing in our streets. The drug war prospered in its murderous rage because we priests hid in silent cowardice and looked the other way instead. That darkness was the fertile soil for breeding lies, vulgarity and anger over love and murder with hatred over mercy. Darkness feel upon us when we failed to guide our parishioners against voting for convicted grafters. Darkness falls upon in our cooperation with political dynasties that bleed the poor of their necessities.
The war did not start in Gaza or Ukraine or Tehran. It started in our hearts. There was a war between murder and life. We kept quiet. There was a war between humanity and vulgarity. We laughed at blasphemy. There was a war between mediocre fake news and sublime truth. We chose gossip. There was a war between obedience and criminality. We found law-breaking easier. There was a war between stewardship and individualism. We chose ourselves first ahead of others. There was war between honesty and hidden lies. We chose convenient hypocrisy. There was a war between celebrating the sacraments in the grace of God and offering the Mass in a state of sin. We excused our sacrilegious ministry by shaky moral theology. We are priests at war.
Drug addicts multiply, fake securities lure the desperate and familiarity with sin breeds contempt for grace. Wars do not erupt from bombs alone; they germinate in cold commitments, piecemeal frauds in daily management and small lies we tolerate. When we grow numb to grace, warlike attitudes take root. The peace of grace is overshadowed.
Priestly silence in the face of the blasphemies against God signals corruption. When we priests grow rich while people starve, Judas kisses the Lord again. When priests stay mute fearing criticism for defending truth, Peter betrays Christ again. Saint John Paul II warned that today’s priests face economic upheavals, shifting values and loneliness that tempt spiritual depression. Yet he urged us: remember, we are never alone, strengthened by God’s power, called to trust fully in our ministry. In this “oil of gladness” rite, we fix our gaze on Christ’s anointing, which flows from the Eucharistic Table, filling the Church with divine fragrance.
Dear brother priests, the wars ravaging the Middle East and Ukraine — bombs falling, families shattered — are beyond our power to halt. We are not superpower leaders, commanding armies or signing treaties.
Yet God places within our reach a fiercer battle: the personal wars scorching our priestly souls, where we can claim victory through Christ’s anointing.
Stop the war in your conscience against frivolous lifestyles — let it triumph over temptations of excess. I know clergy materialism pricks a voice in us saying it is wrong. Do not ignore that priestly conscience.
End the clash between ordination promises and the lure of money and pleasurable living; instead, embrace austere simplicity, shunning greed, for the good of your priestly soul.
Quell the strife between the breviary’s call to pray and the tyranny of endless work — return the breviary to your praying hands.
Let not the Masses cause you fatigue, but let the Body of the Lord link your interior life with ministry through pastoral charity.
Silence the battle between mediocrity and holiness; let piety flow anew.
Choose simplicity over vanity that our parish offices may be approachable to the poor. Reject rushing sacred rites for more time for gadgets; reclaim lectio divina and daily study. Replace easy clergy gossip with fraternal correction in bishop-priest bonds. Conquer laxity in financial stewardship with honesty and accountability — piecemeal frauds are seedbeds of bigger sins.
Brothers, at this Chrism Mass, renew promises to win these wars within our souls. Personal conversion stops the seeds of sin; our holiness disarms global shadows. Let us offer the oils of our anointing instead of the costly oils of war.
We do not have the power of Trump or Netanyahu. We are not powerful like Putin or Zelensky. But we are the master of our souls. In the war within our souls between mediocrity and excellence, between asceticism and laxity, between piety and laziness, choose the Lord. The Lord has chosen us. He will not regret.
Choose the Lord always. Do not give up. In war or in peace, choose the Lord. Only in staying in our choice of the Lord, can we find peace and give peace, amid the wars of the world.
The wars of the world will end when the wars of our souls cease.
Peace! Shalom Aleichem! Assalamu alaykum! Amen!