(First of Two Parts)
“The real measure of our work isn’t found in our press releases. It’s found in the lives we touch, the futures we help shape, the dignity we uphold“
THERE was something new this year as the 20th Congress officially opened.
Something different.
Something quietly powerful.
A day before the formal opening of Congress, more than 200 members of the House of Representatives, led by Speaker Martin Romualdez, walked into the Manila Cathedral.
Not for a meeting. Not for a press conference. But for something deeper.
We gathered together for a Solemn Mass of Thanksgiving presided by Manila Archbishop Jose Cardinal Advincula.
And, to be honest, it moved me more than I expected.
Sitting there in the pews of that centuries-old cathedral, surrounded by my fellow lawmakers, I found myself recalling the words of the Psalmist: “If the Lord does not build the house, in vain do its builders labor.” (Psalm 127:1)
Those words hit differently that night.
Because the truth is, our work in Congress is not easy.
It’s full of pressure, expectations, and responsibility.
It’s about decisions that affect lives and shape the nation’s future.
And it can get overwhelming.
So being in that sacred space, beginning the legislative calendar not with noise or politics – but with silence, with prayer, with unity – was something truly meaningful.
In that moment, I thought of Solomon’s prayer in the First Book of Kings: “Give your servant an understanding heart.”
Not riches. Not fame. Not power. But wisdom. A heart that discerns. A mind that understands. A soul that listens.
That prayer says a lot about the kind of leadership we all need to have – especially now.
Because let’s be real. Our nation needs more than laws and policies. It needs leadership rooted in wisdom, in compassion, in humility.
And that doesn’t just come from credentials or experience. That comes from grace. From faith.
The Cardinal’s homily struck a chord with me.
It reminded us that being in Congress isn’t just a position – it’s a mission.
We are here not to serve ourselves but to serve the people. And to do that well, we need to anchor ourselves in something deeper than ambition or agenda.
He said something I won’t forget: that the laws we pass must reflect God’s guidance.
The policies we create should be signs of His protection, especially for those who suffer. And that the national budget – the most powerful expression of our values – should show God’s providence for the poor and forgotten.
That was a humbling wake-up call.
Because it’s easy to get lost in the day-to-day grind of legislation.
We get buried in committee hearings, political debates, and policy papers.
But the real measure of our work isn’t found in our press releases. It’s found in the lives we touch, the futures we help shape, the dignity we uphold.
And so, that Mass reminded me – and maybe all of us – what this is really about.
