“Maybe this is the time—not to point fingers, not to settle scores, but to let grace guide us back toward accountability, integrity and truth”
SAINT Paul once offered a thought that is both unsettling and comforting: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more” (Romans 5:20). It’s a strange pairing. Sin and grace. Darkness and light. Wounds and healing. One drags us down, the other insists on lifting us up.
These past months, with accusations being fired from all sides, I find myself asking how deep our political troubles really are. And the more I reflect on it, the more I see that our problems run deeper than politics. They touch the moral core of our national life.
A friend and lay preacher once reminded me, “Eight out of ten Filipinos are Christian.” A simple line, but it forces us to look in the mirror. If most of us hear the same Gospel every Sunday, how do we still end up tangled in dishonesty, shortcuts, and corruption? How can a people known for kindness and generosity find themselves constantly struggling with issues of integrity?
This is part of what the Church calls mysterium iniquitatis—the mystery of evil. Knowing the good doesn’t always make us do the good. But this mystery is not an excuse; it is a wake-up call.
As I think about where we are, three things become clear to me.
First, our political controversies reveal deeper fractures within us. Corruption in public life often begins as small compromises in private life. Before a scandal becomes national, it begins with a decision in the heart—a decision to bend, to hide, or to take more than what is fair.
Second, no system of governance survives without virtue. We can write the best laws and perfect our institutions, but if the people running them lack integrity, everything eventually collapses. Character is the true backbone of public service.
Third, crises, for all their messiness, give us clarity. They force us to confront uncomfortable truths. They shake us awake. And sometimes, they open doors to renewal—personal and national.
In a recent statement, Cardinal Pablo Virgilio David appealed to this very possibility of renewal. His challenge to corrupt officials was not about politics; it was about conscience. And he offered three essential steps toward genuine conversion.
The first step is admitting wrongdoings. This is hard. It demands courage. And it requires leaders to put truth before pride. But no healing can begin without honesty. A nation cannot move forward if its leaders will not even acknowledge the harm done.
The second step is repenting for sins. Repentance is more than a public apology. It is a change of heart—a willingness to confront what we have become and choose a new path. It is the inner transformation that gives meaning to every outward act of contrition.
The third step is returning stolen public wealth. This is where sincerity becomes measurable. Words can be crafted; statements can be scripted. But returning what belongs to the people shows the heart has truly changed. It repairs trust, even if slowly. It restores what was broken.
These three steps are not just for the accused. They are a mirror for all of us. Because corruption thrives not only because of powerful people, but also because everyday citizens sometimes lose hope in honesty, excuse wrongdoing, or quietly look away.
But let me add one more thing: in the middle of all this anger and disappointment, we must not lose sight of grace. Grace does not deny wrongdoing. Grace does not excuse it. Grace simply says: change is possible, conversion is possible, and forgiveness is possible—if we are brave enough to ask for it.
The Philippines has been wounded many times before. But our story has never been one of despair. Again and again, we rise. Again and again, we rebuild. Again and again, God gives us another chance.
So as we confront these moral and political storms, may we remember Saint Paul’s strange and hopeful promise. Yes, sin abounds. But grace abounds even more.
And maybe this is the time—not to point fingers, not to settle scores, but to let grace guide us back toward accountability, integrity and truth, toward conversion of self and society, and toward the kind of nation we were always meant to be.
