“I want to help build not just a better government – but a more compassionate nation. A country that remembers its soul. A society that never forgets the God who walks with us“
(Last of two parts)
STANDING in the Manila Cathedral, I couldn’t help but think about those who came before us.
Centuries ago, during the Spanish colonial period, government officials would begin their term in prayer at that very same church.
It’s a beautiful tradition. And one we seem to have rediscovered.
That night, I learned – or maybe re-learned – three things about faith.
First, faith gives meaning and purpose to human life. In a world that moves so fast, where everything is measured by productivity and performance, it’s easy to forget that we are not just workers, lawmakers, or professionals – we are people with hearts and souls.
Faith reminds us that life isn’t just about what we do, but about why we do it. It roots our actions in something bigger than ourselves.
It connects our day-to-day efforts to a deeper sense of calling. When you know you’re doing something not just for applause but for purpose, everything changes.
Second, faith hasn’t lost its place in building a just society.
Some people say faith has no place in public life. I disagree.
Faith isn’t about imposing religion. It’s about grounding our choices in values that endure – compassion, justice, mercy, truth.
Our Constitution may separate Church and State, but it doesn’t separate leadership from moral conviction.
A nation built on laws must also be built on conscience. And conscience needs a compass. For many of us, that compass is our faith.
Third, faith can enrich the life of our nation.
Not by making us perfect. But by making us human.
It reminds us that governance is not just a science, but a form of service.
Faith teaches us to look beyond our own interests, to lift up the last, the least, and the lost. It calls us to listen more than we speak, to serve more than we command, to give more than we take.
That’s why Speaker Martin Romualdez deserves special mention.
It was his quiet but meaningful initiative to organize the Thanksgiving Mass.
And in doing so, he reminded us that leadership is not only about power or policy – but about posture.
The posture of humility. The posture of prayer. The posture of seeking God’s wisdom before carrying out the people’s will.
It may have seemed like a small gesture. But it wasn’t. It set the tone for what this Congress should be about.
Because at the end of the day, the work we do – no matter how important – cannot stand on ambition alone.
It must be built on something stronger. Something more enduring. If we want to build something that lasts, something good, then it must be God who builds it through us.
So as I begin another term in Congress, I carry more than just the hopes of those who elected me.
I carry a prayer. A prayer for clarity. A prayer for strength. A prayer for the grace to lead not just with head and hand, but with heart.
It’s easy to get caught up in the power, the pressure, and the politics.
But in the end, what matters most is the posture of the heart.
That night reminded me: I want to serve not just because I can, but because I’m called. I want to lead not just with authority, but with humility, courage, and grace.
And I want to help build not just a better government – but a more compassionate nation. A country that remembers its soul. A society that never forgets the God who walks with us.
Because if we let Him lead – then we can truly build something that matters.
