November-December 2005

'You are precious in my eyes'

By Katherine Santiago

The author, from Pagadian City, Zamboanga del Sur, is a novice with the Sisters of St Columban. You can learn more about the Columban Sisters at www.columbansisters.org

I woke up one morning at four feeling excited that very soon I’d become a novice. As I lay in bed, a flood of memories came to me. In the silence of the dawn, I recalled the many events that led me to joining the Columban Sisters.

As a child, I used to play a lot with the other girls in school; however I don’t think it was all play because records show that I also did well in my studies. The whole family attended Sunday Mass. My grandfather was a member of a charismatic group and as a child, I used to go with him to their meetings. The first Christian song I learned was ‘Alive, alive, alive forever more … My Jesus is alive forevermore.’ I learned to love singing it without knowing what it was all about.

Flores de Mayo

Every feast day of the Sto Niño, my family joined the Thanksgiving Mass and the fluvial parade afterwards. I was very happy to join, watching the people dancing the Sinulog while carrying the statue of the Sto Niño. This gave me a sense of happiness, but as I look back now I realize that I failed to see the real meaning of it all.

Every summer my sister and I joined the Flores de Mayo, a special devotion to our Blessed Mother that I always looked forward to. My mother bought us small baskets for our flowers. These baskets were full every day. It was in the Flores de Mayo that I learned how to say the Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be and so on. After the prayers, we had time to play, something I really liked. I never failed to join the Flores de Mayo every summer but what I failed to see was the real essence of that activity. I didn’t even ask why we had it. All I had in mind was to play and to enjoy the day.

In my teenage years, I never failed to attend the Stations of the Cross, witness the Salubong, the ‘Meeting of Jesus and Mary’ at dawn on Easter Sunday, and the Simbang Gabi, the pre-dawn Masses before Christmas. But again their real meaning escaped me. I didn’t ask why Catholics celebrate them. There were so many things that I didn’t know, didn’t understand and didn’t bother to ask, ‘Why?’ I think I was just full of myself.

Carefree life

I was carefree and easy-going, always out having fun with my friends, attending parties, knowing the latest trends in clothing. But I failed to see the realities of my life, like my father having to work very hard to support us, like being so dependent on my parents, to the extent that I left even little things like sewing a button on my blouse to my mother. Yes, I played many tricks just to forget and to run away from the hard realities in my life. I failed to see the real meaning of life because of my pretenses. Most of all, I failed to thank God for His constant love and blessings.

Religious life

There was a sudden awakening in my life when I decided to join the Columban Sisters. My parents were very supportive, but the people who knew me just shook their heads in disbelief and couldn’t understand why I wanted to become a religious. The first step was to take Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) in Makati Medical Center where my journey towards knowing myself started. I learned to live and do things on my own. I was experiencing for the first time a sense of being independent and responsible for myself. I had to take care of myself and do things for myself because nobody else would do them for me. This wasn’t easy. In CPE I also learned to know and understand myself better. Seeking the truth about oneself isn’t easy.

When I started formation as a pre-novice, I discovered more about myself and was helped to face my dark side. Little by little I learned how to accept weaknesses and realities in my life that for years I had been refusing to face and had been running away from. This was indeed painful. The day I was able to accept them, I felt I was coming from a long journey inside a dark, stony and muddy cave. I now started walking on a new path.

God's love

Looking back, I am able to see God in all my experiences. God has revealed himself to me in many different ways and is always with me. Because of God I’m able to face and accept my shortcomings. God has given me strength and courage to persevere in my vocation. God has allowed things to happen in my life because God wants me to be strong and to grow as humanly and spiritually as possible. Through these experiences I’ve felt God’s love for me. Isaiah says, ‘Because you are precious in my eyes I love you.’ In the eyes of God, I am important and am God’s beloved daughter. God has allowed me to feel His love through the people who surround me. The journey in learning the truth about myself has been difficult and bittersweet, but meaningful and helpful. I will treasure it for the rest of my life. I am thankful to God for being with me as I walk through the path of life. And the real change in my life can only happen when I begin to accept myself without pretense.

Ready for the next journey

It is because of God’s love for me that I am here. I want to respond to God’s love generously. I want to serve God’s people. I am ready for my next journey and my ‘suitcase’ is ready. I’ve already put into it all I’ll need for the next journey – things like openness, understanding, guidance, enlightenment, courage and God’s overflowing love for me. I know the road ahead isn’t easy but I know that God will always be there for me. God is within me and the Holy Spirit will light my way. I will keep myself open, faithful and strong. And things will turn out just right.

Indeed life is full of surprises. It’s like a huge box that is full of gifts. One never knows what one is getting. One may not even be sure what kind of gift one will get, but one thing is sure – God is in the gift because God loves us and God will remain faithful to us always.

The ringing of the church bells woke me up from my deep reverie.My alarm clock said it was already five o’clock and so I hurriedly got up to fix myself and get ready to attend the 5:30 Mass in the parish.

A Contemplative In Ireland

By Sister Mary Cynthia OCD


L-R Srs Concepcion, Rose Alice and Mary Cynthia


Years ago ‘mission’ was foreign to Filipina Discalced Carmelite nuns, since we’re contemplatives and normally stay for life in the community we join. Many Carmelite communities in Europe and the USA, because of the lack of vocations, are faced with the possibility of either closing down or joining together. To avoid that possibility, some European Carmels asked the Association of Monasteries of Discalced Carmelites in the Philippines for help. As a result of this, there are now Filipina Carmelite missionaries in France, Africa, Belgium and, most recently, in Ireland, where we are now. There are still requests from other countries.

I am one among many volunteers from different Carmelite communities in the Philippines. I applied for the mission without any country of preference. I believe that it’s God who chose Ireland for me because He knows this is where I can be at my best. Our mission differs greatly from that of other missionaries who go around and meet people through their apostolate and ministries.

The main objective of our presence in St Joseph’s Monastery, Mount Carmel, Loughrea, County Galway, is to serve as a bridge to younger Irish vocations. I feel that the most effective way to fulfil this mission is to continue my contemplative life through prayer, and love God in charity and service to my new community. The Irish nuns are very welcoming and accommodating, sensitive to our needs and make us feel very much at home, which helps us to adjust easily to their food, customs, traditions and culture. 

As I go along in my life of prayer and service, God reveals other aspects so I can understand my mission in Ireland more. Foremost, is to express the gratitude of the Filipino people for the many Irish missionaries who selflessly offered their lives and sacrifices to deepen our faith and knowledge of God through education and their witnessing in living the Christ-like life among our suffering poor Filipino people. We Filipino Carmelites are grateful to our Irish Carmelite Fathers who worked hard in their mission to form the Philippine Commissariat for our Filipino OCD friars. We nuns benefit from their service, not only in spiritual but in other things and ways in which they have helped us. I hope that our presence here lets them see and taste the fruit of the labor of their loving service to the Order and to the Church. 

Then, the presence of Filipino workers in Ireland, about 70 in Loughrea, gives another dimension to mission for me, that we will give them moral support and a sense of family to ease the pain of being away from their loved ones. This came to reality when we met them a week after our arrival and one said, ‘nakakagaan sa puso na narito kayo.’ What a consolation! We had Filipino Christmas and Easter parties with them in our big parlor (visiting room). I’m sure that God will let me see the broader spectrum of this mission in my moments of silence with Him. 

Though I am unworthy of this task, I hope and pray that what I’m doing in mission will bear everlasting fruit. It doesn’t matter if the harvest isn’t in my lifetime as long as it will be for the Kingdom of God, to whom everything is due. I give thanks to God through this mission for He is good and His love endures for ever. I think it’s about time that the Irish should reap the harvest of the seeds they planted in the many countries where they served as missionaries. The generosity of Irish priests, religious and lay people, whether in service or financial support for different causes, ranks among the best in the world. They are the living gospel of Jesus.

My thanks to the Irish nuns and priests who have visited us, who knew beforehand of our coming. Many of them spent many years as missionaries in the Philippines and they treasure our country and people, recalling the past with nostalgia. We owe them a lot. The service with pleasure of those who helped us process our papers in different government agencies is commendable. May God reward them with more to share with others.

You may contact Sister Rose-Alice at rosealicee@yahoo.co.uk .

A Little Story

By Sister Mary Rose-Alice Escote OCD

Ireland has sent many missionaries, including Carmelite friars, to the Philippines in the last 100 years. Here is one of three ‘little stories’ of Carmelite contemplative missionaries from the Philippines in Ireland.

At the baccalaureate graduation Mass at UST, Manila, after I finished a two-year course in Religious Education, I signed the profession of faith in red ink to signify by the color of blood that I wouldn’t refuse any offer when asked to go on mission.

When I entered Davao Carmel, I thought that was the end. It was unheard of for contemplatives to go on mission. Besides, my health remained delicate although I wasn’t sickly.
Towards the end of 2001 my superior asked me if I would go to Thailand for a year to help Chanthaburi Carmel. I went home for the necessary papers for my passport. My father said, ‘When I was 8, sick and confined at home, a greatgrandaunt confided to me, “It’s better to have priests and religious in our family.” Her prayer was fulfilled in me through my children.’ Then I remembered and understood how my father would remind me, as a growing girl, to eat little because food on the mission would be scarce. My youngest sister was then a novice with the Missionary of Charity. After her profession on 21 May 2003 she was assigned to Macau.

In Thailand my vocation to the mission became clearer, as my health improved, and further confirmed by my superior. But after some time I was faced again with another major decision. Again, I dared to leave all and was happy with a deepening peace for having made the courageous decision to go to Ireland. It’s payback time for what the missionaries had done and continued to do in my beloved country. Their generosity challenged me, as did God’s choice, singling me out from among many Filipina Carmelites far more qualified than me.

Ireland extended a warm welcome, with friendliness and solicitude. In spite of great material progress in their country, the Irish nuns in St Joseph’s, Loughrea, remain very simple as they live the Carmelite life. Our presence brought joy, laughter, and a new vigor but also a great challenge, both for the Irish and for us Filipina sisters.

Beatification Of Charles De Foucauld

Father Charles de Foucauld, who called himself as ‘Brother Charles,’ will be beatified on Sunday, 13 November, at St Peter’s Basilica, Rome. The ceremony was to have taken place on 15 May, Pentecost Sunday, but was postponed because of the death of Pope John Paul.

Cardinal Jose Saraiva Martins, Prefect of the Congregation for the Causes of Saints, described Brother Charles as ‘A particular figure of the contemplative and the missionary, the “Little Brother of Jesus” who took the humility, poverty and charity of Christ among the Tuaregs of the Sahara, wanting to be the “universal brother” of Christians, Jews and Muslims.’

The life and writings of Brother Charles, born in Strasbourg, France, 15 September 1858, and killed in the Sahara Desert on 1 December 1916, have led to the founding of a number of religious congregations such as the Little Brothers of Jesus and the Little Sisters of Jesus, both of which are in the Philippines. The Jesus Caritas Fraternity of Priests, a movement basically of diocesan priests, and the Charles de Foucauld Lay Fraternities, adapt his spirituality to their way of life.

A good source of information about the new beatus, who in his young days was an army officer and a notorious playboy, and those he has inspiredis: http://www.jesuscaritas.info

Blessings Of The Season

By Nicholas Murray

As I write these few lines I’ve just taken down my Christmas decorations and put aside my Christmas cards.  Both have decorated my apartment since well before Christmas and have served as useful topics of conversation and teaching aids for my students who regularly attend the office hours that are a requirement of our contract.  We are expected to make ourselves available for at least two hours a week for what is often referred to as ‘free talk.’

Christmas may not yet hold a prominent place in Chinese thought but it certainly captures the attention of our students and often during this period I find myself invited to ‘tell us the Christmas story.’  How could anyone ignore such an exciting invitation!  It is here that the beautiful religious-motif Christmas cards, which I’ve received from overseas and which now festoon my apartment windowsill and flat furniture tops, come into play.  There is wonderful satisfaction to be gained from the rapt attention with which the students listen and afterwards ask their questions.  I like to think that they go away with a little better understanding of the Christmas event and the place it plays in other cultures.  Experience has shown that such efforts are not in vain.

The Christmas greetings that come from family, loved ones and friends, including my students, at this time of year have a special place in my affection and appreciation.  However, this year, pride of place is taken by a simple but beautiful greeting I got from one of my third year students, not yet a Christian but a regular participant in the ‘free talk’ sessions.  Here in China the ‘Season’s Greetings’ cards are quite simple, not the ready-made variety with verse and greeting inside, already composed. Here the sender has to compose the desired message, which in the case of my student was particularly touching.  Here is what she wrote:

Dear God,

Christmas is coming round the corner, and I’ve been wondering how I could thank my dear teacher Nick enough, for the love, patience and just hard work that goes into guiding me.  But I don’t know, dear God, except to ask you to bless him as richly as he deserves.  He is a really wonderful person.  I am glad I am a student of him.  I wish him to be healthy, wealthy and happy forever.  Dear God, please make my above wishes come into being. 

That’s all I want for him.

Eily

When I read this over the phone during the Christmas for my sister in Ireland, herself a teacher, she said, ‘You’d better stay out there in China because you’ll get nothing like that here!’ Yes, we too have much to learn.

Christmas At The Margins

By Sister Nellie Zarraga ICM

Going to Mongolia feels like going to the end of the world.  From bustling Beijing or any other metropolis, one catches a plane or a train that flies or chugs over vast frozen steppes for a long time before one sees here and there evidence of life.

And life there is!


Sr Nellie, 2nd from the left, and Bishop Wens Padilla, far right, with friends outside a ger

Whether you go to the Joy Supermarket run by the Showoo village people, or the Rainbow Special Children’s Development Center with ten children taught by four teachers, or the National Mental Hospital Children’s Section where two of our young people organize educational activities for the 30 children there, or Sts Peter and Paul Parish, where the youth are now busy preparing for the Christmas liturgy, or the evening English classes organized for the working people or struggling students, one feels the preference for the people at the margins.  Life with the marginal people vivifies and enriches us!

As I look back at these months since September when our Rainbow Center started, a thought that carried me as I went about the business of each day was one shared by Barbara, the American volunteer speech therapist who drops into the Center in her spare time from the International School.  She said something like this:  before we can improve a special child’s speech, we need to be able to observe and learn how the child is making the mistake.  Only then can we suggest a way of producing the new sound from the mistake being made.

Wow!  The children become the teachers, showing us observers how they make their sounds. We become the learners, observing how the children producing their unique sounds that we consider ‘mistakes’!

When I’m ready to observe carefully, to care deeply enough to create in my own system the sound that the child is creating, I become the ready student to whom learning comes eventually, rewarded by discovering an effective path leading the child to a new sound!  Isn’t this the age-old Zen saying:  ‘When the student is ready, the master will come’?

Isn’t that another way of realizing the doctrine of the Incarnation?   The Son of God came into our world two thousand years ago, and yet still takes on flesh every time we are ready to receive Him in our hearts.  He is born once more into hearts that have been waiting in anticipation for their Savior.   He enters once more into dwellings of people who make space for Him in their ger-‘inn.’

May our ministry at the margins of our society be one of welcoming the Savior in the hearts of our people, in our own hearts!  And as Medical Mission Sister Miriam sings:  ‘Be brave with the burden you are blessed to bear, for it’s Christ that you carry, everywhere!’  God-be-with us, Emmanuel!

Father Joeker

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

DON’T GIVE UP

My parish is divided into two major zones: Nsawkaw (Twi-speaking) and Banda (Nafana-speaking). After almost two years of organizing them, I was on the verge of giving up on the Banda people. They showed no sign of progress. Sitting under a mango tree, I was about to decide to close down the zone when out of the blue a hen with her chicks appeared from the bush. The hen started scratching on the ground and her chicks rushed but found no food. Then the hen started again … again … and again. Suddenly it dawned on me -- if the hen wasn’t giving up, then why should I? Call it craziness or what, but I literally ran to look for the hen to thank her for enlightening me!

RIDE HOME

After my Sunday Mass in Hani Village, the catechist of the Pentecost church asked me if I could give their stranded pastor a lift. ‘No, problem,’ I readily answered, thinking he was alone. But I was mistaken. His wife and a sheep were also waiting for us. When we arrived at their compound, their children with their dogs and puppies and the women in their community were jumping with joy to see them. I was so impressed. ‘How blessed you are, Pastor! Me, everytime I went home, only Peace, my dog, was jumping.’ May the late Peace rest in peace.

THREE O’CLOCK

Father Martin Moi-Gangi SVD from Papua New Guinea was hospitalized with appendicitis. When I visited him I asked him what time his doctor was coming. ‘At three o’clock in the afternoon,’ he replied. ‘Oh, no, that’s the hour Our Lord died on the cross!’ The Sisters in the room were amused but they also chided me for such an inappropriate comment. Ooopps, not again. Thank you, Sisters, for reminding me.

BIG CHAIR, SMALL CHAIR

I was invited to the inauguration of the Catholic Women Association. I was sitting comfortably on my big chair when the chairwoman arrived. The moment I saw her, I did what any gentleman would do -- I stood up and offered my seat to her, which she gladly accepted. That chair was too big for me anyway.

Flight 387

By Mrs Rosie C. Cabillas as told to Mrs Roberta M. Luza

‘I’ll put down the phone now, Ma. I have to prepare yet to catch the nine o’clock flight for Cagayan de Oro. See you in March. I’ll meet you at the airport then so that you can attend my graduation. OK, Ma, bye.’ These were the parting words of my son, Artnee.

 
Archie and Artnee with their 
mom during happier times 

It was a casual telephone conversation early in the morning, Philippine time, of 2 February 1998. Artnee was calling from Fairview, Quezon City, while I was in Brisbane, Australia. What I wasn’t aware of was that it was the last time I’d talk to my son.

What happened after that conversation was a startling nightmare that shook me to the core. It was a miracle that I survived and coped with life in spite of what happened.

Our Family

Nicolas, my husband, and I were married on 17 May 1975 at Sto Niño Chapel, Brgy. Baga, now Sta Maria, Tangub City. We were blessed with two sons, Artnee and Archie. Artnee was a premature baby weighing four pounds at birth but grew up a healthy boy. Archie followed four years later.

Nick and I were both government employees. Nick worked with the Department of Agriculture as a farm technician while I was an elementary teacher in Tangub City Central School.

We lived a comfortable life, never wanting in material things, because aside from our salaries, we had other sources of income, which came from the sale of produce from the farm I inherited from my parents. We were able to send our two boys to the best schools that we knew. Artnee pursued a Physical Therapy degree at Liceo de Cagayan, Cagayan de Oro City, and was in his final year. Archie studied engineering at the University of San Jose-Recoletos, Cebu City.

My stay in Australia

My trip to Australia was made possible after I qualified for a two-month study grant at QueenslandUniversity, Brisbane, a joint venture of the government of Australia and the Philippines for the enhancement of teaching in the Project of Basic Education (PROBE), specifically in Mathematics, English and Science.

I left for Australia on 8 January 1998. I was occupied there most of the time with schoolwork, but also found time to look around and savor the beauty of my new environment. I enjoyed my daily tasks very much until that fateful day when my son phoned from Manila.

The nightmare

Early that morning, as was our wont in the boardinghouse, everybody watched the CNN news on TV. Nothing unusual happened except for some breaking news, which was about a plane crash in the southern Philippines that morning. Though no particulars were mentioned, the news kept bothering me.

Perhaps it was a mother’s innate intuition that my son must have taken that flight. So, I called my relatives in Manila to verify. Nobody was sure or maybe they didn’t want to tell me the truth. At about 10am, my school director called me to his office. With the help of a psychologist, he gradually revealed the news that I dreaded to hear. My son was indeed one of the casualties in that plane crash, Flight 387 of Cebu Pacific.

I was really shocked! I couldn’t believe what I heard. It was as if my head was swirling. My body felt numb. I felt that everything had stopped. What I heard was beyond what I could take. I cried my heart out. To think that I had talked to my son that very morning! How I wished I could have turned back the time and talked to him a little longer and caused him to miss his trip. It was my way of denial – a desperate attempt to escape reality, though deep in my heart I knew it was futile. It seemed that the world crumbled around me. I was really devastated. It was a nightmare! How I wished it was just a bad dream that I’d wake up from.

The tragic plight of my son cut short my stay in Australia. I had no choice but to go home. The compassionate school director provided me with a member of the school staff as a companion, knowing that I was emotionally unstable.

The agony of waiting

While waiting for the retrieval of the remains of my son, I stayed with some of the families and relatives of other victims at Grand City Hotel, Cagayan de Oro City, courtesy of Cebu Pacific Airlines. Although we belonged to different religious denominations, we prayed with one another. We found solace and relief telling stories about how good our loved ones were as family members and unique persons. But I preferred to be alone most of the time, trying to remember the past. Recalling happy moments and beautiful events we shared in our family eased the pangs of loneliness and emptiness I felt during those trying times.

The distance and the steep winding paths going to Mt Sumagaya made the rescuers’ work slow and difficult especially the uninhabited areas. Only a few of the bodies retrieved could be identified and claimed by their families. Most of them, Artnee’s included, were badly burned, mangled beyond recognition.

Finally it was decided that there would be a common burial of the unidentified remains at OroGardens, Cagayan de Oro City. The names of those who perished were inscribed on a large marble wall at the burial site. The burial ceremony took place on 28 March – 54 days after the accident. It was the saddest day of my life.

Picking up the pieces

I returned to work in June 1998. Because of my scholarship in Australia, I had to serve as an In-Service Facilitator of PROBE in selected elementary schools in the districts of Tangub City for two years. I also had some teaching loads in Grade One.

I had an earnest desire and intention to return to a normal routine in my work as a teacher and to divert my focus from grieving so much. God provided me with many tasks, which kept me busy. However, I discovered that nature’s healing process moves at a slow pace. It can’t happen at the snap of a finger. Lots of times I just shed tears to relieve the loneliness I felt for my lost son. His permanent physical absence gnawed at my heart.

Before and after the accident, I have never ceased praying to the Lord. I attend Mass and receive Holy Communion daily or whenever possible.

The way I coped

With the grace and mercy of God, I realized that as a Catholic, it was not enough to love, adore and honor God by myself, but to render service to others. Thus, through prayer, enlightenment and the direction of the Holy Spirit, I joined several church organizations. I became an active member of the Holy Infant Community, the Legion of Mary and the Adorers of the Holy Trinity and God the Father.

Meanwhile, God in His goodness gave my husband Nick, my younger son Archie and myself the opportunity to travel and see tourist spots not only in the Philippines but also abroad. We traveled to Hong Kong and China and to parts of the USA.The pain, suffering and sacrifices that I’ve experienced have made me a living witness of God’s love. In so many instances, I became a healing instrument to those who also had sufferings of their own, through sharing my
story with them. They call me ‘the wounded healer.’

Our gradual healing

Through my reflections, I’ve learned to accept God’s will in everything that has happened in our lives. My husband and I realize that as parents of Artnee we were only stewards of his 22 years stay on earth. Although nothing can really fill the void that he left in our hearts, we continue to lovingly cherish his memory, which has become part of our lives through the years.

As we commemorated his seventh death anniversary on 2 February this year, we were most grateful to God for having chosen us as Artnee’s parents and also thankful for the years he spent with us in our family. We know that he is now happy in heaven and our family has attained healing to some extent. Praise God!


From Baguio To Loughrea

By Sister Mary Concepcion OCD


White Christmas for Sr Rose Alice and Sr Concepcion

In His time, God fulfilled my desire to go on mission, although not to Africa. But His will be done.

When I was still newly professed in Baguio Carmel, our first Father Provincial, an Irish Carmelite, told the Association of Monasteries of Discalced Carmelites in the Philippines that a bishop in Ghana was asking for a Filipino Carmelite foundation of nuns. When this materialized after almost fifteen years I wasn’t permitted to go since we were only a few in our community.

Time passed by and I was already beyond the age bracket required. But with God nothing is impossible. He inspired me to decide peacefully to go wherever He might lead me. I didn’t know that Ireland was the next target of the association. I consulted Mother May of Bacolod, the president of our association at the time. She suggested I wait till after Easter by which time she’d have contacted the prioress of Loughrea Carmel. Anyway she said that one of the group about to go wasn’t yet ready, so I could pitch in. Pondering on God’s will, I see how He works smoothly. After only four months everything was ready, all papers cleared up.

How can I thank the Lord for His goodness to me? Only this I want, to know His will.

You may write Sr Mary Concepcion, Sr Mary Cynthia and Sr Mary Rose-Alice Escote at St Joseph’s Monastery, Mount Carmel, LOUGHREA, County Galway, IRELAND. The website of the Carmelite nuns in Ireland iswww.carmelitesisters.ie and it has a link to the Loughrea Carmel.

Letter From Sri Lanka

By Sister Rose Agnes MC

Dear Father Seán,

Greetings from Sri Lanka! May the joy, peace and love of Christ our hope be with you and all at Misyon.

I hope that you received my letter stating that Sr Paul Lynette has been sent to Jordan for her new mission. She was replaced by five of us Filipino Missionaries of Charity in Sri Lanka. Thank you so much for sending the magazine, which I pass on to the other Filipina Sisters. All look forward to each issue of Misyon.

Here in Sri Lanka, we have eight mission houses. We recall the tragic war that some of us experienced, the confusion and pain of seeing the people live sleepless nights, the bombings and shooting. We have to be ready at any time to lose our own lives too. Now for sixteen months the ceasefire and the peace process are going on. We could see the joy in the faces of the people as they tried to go back to their own places, though only pieces of stone remained from most of their beautiful houses. Our apostolate was with the refugees, the sick and dying, those with mental disabilities, unwed mothers and so forth.

The beauty of the people here is their generosity and acceptance of everything. They have many different religions but the majority are Buddhists. They are very respectful and good to us.

For our work we have to learn two languages, Tamil, spoken in the north, and Sinhala, spoken in the south. In areas that are mixed we have somehow to manage with both. Much of the time we understand, but service with a smile and full of love doesn’t need a spoken language. So when we go on apostolate and can’t understand the people, we give them a beautiful smile and they themselves try to understand our language, often a mixture of English, Sinhala and Tamil.

Please do pray for us that we may experience a lasting peace here, and for our perseverance.

Yours sincerely,

Sister Rose Agnes

MISYON Student Essay Contest 2005 WINNERS

In the July-August issue of Misyon, we invited high school students in schools that subscribe to the magazine to enter our first essay contest. The theme was that of this Year’s  World  Youth Day, ‘We have come to worship Him.’

We offered as a guideline a quote from the message of the late Pope John Paul II for the festival in Cologne, Germany, Listening to Christ and worshipping Him leads us to make courageous choices, to take what are sometimes heroic decisions. Jesus is demanding, because He wishes our genuine happiness.’

We thank the 568 students who responded enthusiastically to our invitation

Our three winners: Zyra Corvera, Shanti Prado and Lenie Rose Jimenez

Zyra Louisee Aranzanso Corvera (First Prize)

 Zyra is a third year student in the high school department of Columban College, Olongapo City.

I often wondered why things have to be the way they are; why there are those people born with a silver spoon while others endure their downtrodden lives.  Why?  And so I continued upon my search until I came upon with this word that could offer an answer: Mission.

True enough, each one of us has our aim or goal in life.  Furthermore, I believe that even before we are born, God has already delegated a mission.  This mission does not only inscribe itself in serving God and Jesus Christ but the human race as well.

There are those soldiers who would defend and fight for their country as their end zone, doctors who would cure, care for, and continue to serve the ill, mothers who take care of their family, fathers who work assiduously to support their loved ones and children who bring smiles and laughter to each other.

Evidently, everybody has his mission but I personally believe that the greatest mission is serving God as we call upon only Him.  That is why we have people who join Christian organizations such as the Children of Mary, church choirs, youth ministry and even the altar ministry.  Some choose to be missionaries, becoming nuns and priests.  But only a few choose to serve God.  Most people perceive serving God as faking the priesthood, but it’s not. The truth is even we, kids, can serve Him.  Reading the Bible and sharing its inspiring stories: how Christ lived His life, how His disciples served the ordinary people by curing and bringing them closer to the Almighty, those stories that could trigger even the toughest heart and get them working their way to help the underprivileged.

With all these, I remember a story from my aunt.  Let me share it with you.

Some years back, back when she was still very young, she had a very kind neighbor named Lisa.  Lisa grew up in a very affluent family.  They owned numerous businesses and even a hacienda.  She was an only child that left her much taken care of.  She got everything she wanted but even so, she felt lonely.  Her parents were too aloof.  They did not treat their employees well and she didn’t want to be like them.  So, she prayed hard everyday that God with His omnipotence would make her parents good.

When she was little, she would go to school and no one would speak to her.  She had no friends. That was how even her classmates reacted to her parents’ attitude towards others.  At night before she could even go to sleep, she’d remember all this and cry.  But still her little heart wouldn’t lose hope.  Her faith in God told her that everything would be better soon.

As time passed by, Lisa’s intelligence emerged and she decided to put this great gift into use by helping her classmates understand their lessons.  Moreover, when Lisa saw that her classmates didn’t have food during recess for lack of money, she shared hers.  With all her nice doings, the time came when people finally saw her difference and they liked her.  And so, she gained friends.  Happy and enthusiastic she became!

One day, she invited some of her friends to her house.  Everyone was having fun.  Until her parents arrived.  Her friends politely greeted the house owners but the two just gave them an eye. 

When Lisa’s friends went home, her parents talked to her that they didn’t want her seeing those ‘peasants’ again.  She said yes but never meant to follow.  She remained friends with these ‘peasants’ and grew up each day as a good being.

 Time just flew and now the little girl was a teenager.  She refused to be like her parents, treating people kindly and with respect.  She even tried talking to her mom and dad that they should be good to their maids and workers but they didn’t listen.

A few more years and now she’s a college student.  The day was filled with much celebration and that was the last celebration they had as a family.  Two months quickly went by and her parents got into a car accident.  The car crashed into a tree and both died instantly.

She was completely distraught but still she stood steadfastly pulling strength from her unfailing faith. She learned that everything from the land to the business was to be named to her after her parents’ death.  This did not make her any happier but if it was of any consolation, this opened her eyes to the mission she was to take part in in this life:  to help the oppressed and impart what she had to the needy.

She increased the compensation of their workers and treated them well.  Being a doctor, she decided to volunteer with the Red Cross and gave free consultations and check-ups to those folks who couldn’t afford professionals.  She spearheaded feeding programs and sent less fortunate children to school.  With all these she didn’t find herself a husband and was living her life helping the poor and serving God.

Clearly, mission is an aim in life arising from a conviction or sense of calling.  And life has so much to offer that you just get a hold on and find your purpose.  Finally, God has every reason for your existence in this magnificent world.  You just have to believe that you are His beautiful creation and you have the power to change and inscribe your name in this great realm.

Shanti Aubren Prado (Second Prize)

Shanti is a fourth year high school student in Divine Word of San Jose College, San Jose, Occidental Mindoro.

I only heard of him from my mother.  Whenever I was faced with challenges in school, my mother always mentioned his name.  But I had not yet seen him in my life.

According to my mother, his and my family had been long-time neighbors in our town in the old days when there were still deer and flowers in the wild, and birds and butterflies to habitat the plants.

His name is known in our community and he is known in the school where I am presently studying. He belonged to the first year high school class when the school, then only an academy, opened in 1963.  In his time, the school had only one building compared to the many buildings now when I started my Grade I in 1996.

He is much older than me, even some years older than my mother.  In our school, he was active in academics, in extra curricular activities and in campus politics.  He was into reading, music and arts. In sports, he was into ping-pong, basketball, swimming and judo–karate.  And he was one of those activists before the martial law years.

After college my mother’s friend – they even treated each other as relatives – went to university and studied law.  When he returned to our hometown one summer time, he was already employed in the country’s premier investigative police agency – the NBI.

At the NBI, he met and moved with important people.  He saw the powerful and the influential who shaped the nation’s destiny.  Indeed, the city was full of wine, women and song.

But in a split second, an accident completely changed his life.  The result of the CT scan on his broken spinal column, as announced by the doctors, devastated him: ‘paralysis, in all probability, permanent.’  He was then 34, with two children aged two and three.

Back in our hometown, changes began to appear in his body.  His renal and rectal functions ceased to function.  All his right fingers stiffened.  His legs became thin and lost their sensation.  He could not even turn on his side without assistance.  At nights, rats, ants and cockroaches feasted on his feet and toes.  And massive bedsores appeared to eat his flesh.

What aggravated his sad condition was when he and his wife separated.  Because the couple parted with animosity, his wife denied him his children.  In his mother’s home later, he also felt the indifference of the other members of his family.  He sensed he was being considered a burden worth being dumped.  And my mother’s friend, who felt he was all alone in this cruel world, began to hate God.  He often asked at night, ‘God, why did you give me this wretched life?’ 

There was one option left for him to end it all – to take his life.

But the images of his children kept appearing in his sleep.  The images of the suffering Christ nailed on the cross and His weeping mother at the foot of the cross refused to leave him.  The scene at the crucifixion pestered him that one should remember God more when one is suffering.

And one night, when everything was still and everybody was asleep, my mother’s friend raised a simple prayer to heaven to ask God’s forgiveness. Tears flowing, he repented and accepted his fate – that long before he was born, his name was already written, he was already chosen by the Lord to help Him carry His cross.

He pledged to God that, in his condition now – physical body destroyed but with brains intact – he had to spend the remaining years of his life in the service of others, just as he had done when he was still in the government service.  That night, he asked God to give him the sign.

And God answered his prayers when one December day his two children stood by the door of his room.  They approached and climbed onto his bed, one on the left and the other on the right.

He embraced them, and smelled the sweet scent of innocence.  And when his children embraced him back, he whispered: ‘Ang ligaya ko po ngayong Pako.  Thank you Lord.’

This reunion with his children made my mother’s friend want to live again.  Since then, he changed his outlook in life.  If severe tests caused some men to break, my mother’s friend resolved to strengthen his moral courage and not to doubt again his faith in God.

For starters, he taught his left hand to write the ABC.  He also taught his left to hold the brush to paint – painting being his first love even when he was still a boy.

When a telephone was installed in his room, my mother’s friend went into radio reporting and aired to the public the people’s problems.  He fought for the people’s welfare, especially the poor, the voiceless, the oppressed.

To help the people more, he renewed his ties with the NBI; thus the NBI provided assistance in his hometown in investigating cases.  He helped the poor in filing cases.  By word of mouth, what he was doing spread and reached the neighboring towns.  And more people came to him for assistance.

I saw my mother’s friend for the first time on TV when Ms Korina Sanchez featured him in Balitang K. It was at this point that I asked my mother to bring me to him.

There he was, lying in bed.  His room was small and its ceiling low.  This was his world for the past 16 years.  It was true, his wasted body was permanently nailed to his bed.  Pity was the first feeling I felt toward him.

But when he smiled at me, I noticed his eyes sparked with certainty.  And when he spoke and let me into his mind, I saw his thoughts to be deep and his understanding of what life is far and wide.

I learned that he resolved to give more of his time to be of service to others.  I likewise learned that whenever people left his room with hope renewed and courage born, he realized the value of his life because people were affected by the way he lived a full life despite his limitations.  To him, this was the imposing meaning why God gave him what he, at first, thought was ‘a wretched life’ – to inspire others.

I would never forget when he quoted a line from a little book titled The Little Prince :  ‘And now here’s my secret, a very simple secret:  It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eyes.’

When I left his room, I felt humbled.  This man, my family’s long-time friend and neighbor, even relative, as they proudly announced, who once so hated God that he thought of taking his own life, found the power to renew his faith, and the power to keep it alive with the passion to live under that unshaken faith that God is always on his side.

My mother’s friend has come to worship Him.


Lenie Rose Jurado Jimenez (Third Prize)

Lenie Rose is a fourth year high school student in Lourdes Academy, San Miguel, Zamboanga del Sur.

Everyone was given life for some individual and powerful mission to accomplish in this world.  We’re given life to cultivate and handle the creation of God for every living thing.  The human which He created in His image, different from everything, is placed in a higher rank among all His creation.  But the question is, does every human think that we are created in God’s image and that therefore we should follow Him?  Are we worthy to be the highest among all God’s creation?  Is our faithfulness enough to worship Him?

Why not?  As the highest one, we are capable of doing something which can make us stable with God’s presence within us.  But sometimes we forget and disobey God to provide our own interest and happiness, and that’s through our selfishness.  We can recognize our wrong deeds if ever there’s something negative that happens, but we go through to fight this part of our self which may carry us away from our Father.

We wouldn’t be here now if there’s no God present in every individual’s spirit.  He created our parents to be his instruments for us to be born for some important mission, and that’s to worship him.  Let’s be his good instruments to guide those who are in the wrong path towards his kingdom. Perhaps some are not totally in God because of their cravenness towards modern things around them.  But the truth is:  God is the essential among all we have, for He never leaves us. Whereas the things we have may be gone and be destroyed any time.  God is very powerful.  He gives to those who follow and obey Him.  He is the life and light which shines through us in the dark.  He is our everything. 

In every man’s experience, it might be good or bad, He is there accompanying us … We should be faithful to Him for He never gives us trials if He knows we can’t survive.  Every difficulty is a just challenge to strive and develop our life as well as our hidden skills.  All we have to do is to be faithful to Him,  because He is just here beside us.  My experience makes me realize that God is really here, therefore I should be faithful.

Since before, three days after I born, I was already here in my grandma’s hands.  My parents left me for the reason that they couldn’t support my needs and my mother was still studying.  Actually they tried to abort me.  My Mom always drank strong medicines for me to die.  She deeply bound her stomach but still nothing happened.  They then hired somebody to do the process which is commonly known as ‘ipamukot’ in order to abort the baby.  But I was still alive, strongly holding on and lying in my mother’s womb.  My grandma prayed many times that I would be born healthy and normal as other babies.  My face and head were not shaped normally (in Visayan, ‘phing’).  But all of this wasn’t a hindrance to my developing life.  We very much lacked money because my grandma was not employed full-time. She could find money if someone asked her to repair their clothes. But if not, we had nothing also.  We planted some vegetables and fruits to help us survive.  Grandma found a lot of sidelines to let me finish school.  Sometimes she went to our neighbors to care for their babies to earn money.  I stood as the mother of my two young cousins. I’m the one who took care of them, putting aside my books for studying my lessons.

We carried these difficulties until I was now in high school.  I studied my lessons very well to maintain my position as an honor student to make my grandma happy even in a simple way … This was the beginning of my another journey in life.  I am very thankful that God made me strong to survive from my mother’s womb until now.  He used my grandma as His instrument to help me to go through.  I am very faithful to Him because despite those medicines which my Mom took to abort me, still I hold on… I believe God purposely strengthens me to be His good instrument towards others.

We should praise and worship Him for He never forgets us despite all the wrong things we’ve done. We should value life, for it’s fragile.  We are very much thankful for we’re chosen this life to enjoy the greatness of the world as well as His creation.

We are here to worship Him … And His peace lives in us …

Melody Lingers On

By Fr Fintan Murtagh

The author is a Columban priest who has worked in the Diocese of Iba, Zambales, since coming to the Philippines in 1964. He is a parish priest and also works with persons with disabilities.


Melody skiing with friends in Japan during the Duskin Leadership Training

Her name was Melody. It must be more than twenty years ago now since I first met her on a Saturday afternoon at the chapel in her barrio. A friend had transported her on a tricycle. She was able to maneuver herself from there. Melody had been severely affected by polio since she was only three or four. The lower part of her body was severely deformed because of this but she moved herself about in a sitting position by propelling her feet with her hands.

After Mass I had a little chat with Melody and her companions. I found out she was attending the local elementary school whenever there was someone available to take her there. It occurred to me that it would be a great help if she could get to school under her own steam. I had seen a photo of a tricycle propelled by hand. I showed it to a local welder and he produced one. Melody was delighted with it. Now she could go to school on her own. I visited her often and had a nurse give advice on what exercises would benefit her. A neighbor made parallel bars so she could practice walking with supports attached to both legs. Melody gamely tried but the polio had done too much. But she never gave up. She finished her elementary education, went on to high school, and eventually studied computer at college level.

In the March-April 2004 issue of Misyon Melody wrote of her experience in Japan with the Duskin Ainowa Foundation that gave her a great measure of independence. When she came home she wasted no time in setting up a center for independent living in her own town.

Melody contracted lupus and died on 10 April 2005, aged only 28. But she accomplished much in her short life. She inspired the setting up of the Community Based Rehabilitation Program of the Diocese of Iba, which touches the lives of almost one thousand people. 

Melody has passed on. Her spirit and example will continue to inspire us for a long time. I thank God that our paths crossed. Rest in peace, Melody. We will try to continue in the fine way you have shown us. You are gone but your memory still inspires us, still lingers on.

You may contact Father Murtagh at murtaghf@piol.net or at Immaculate Conception Parish, Barretto, 2200OLONGAPO CITY.


Our Hideaway

MAN AND THE WORLD

By Cris Evert Berdin Lato

The author is in third year at the University of the Philippines, Cebu College, taking a BA in Mass Communication. She’s also active in Youth for Christ.

Imagine a world where no human exists. Animals and plants are there, the wind blows and rivers keep on flowing. Trees bear fruit and the sea continues to produce fish; yet no man exists. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west without catching a glimpse of a single individual. Now if we will try to go back to reality, nature still continues the same routine with the presence of one being - man. Everything is turning out fine without man, but we often find ourselves asking, ‘Why does man exist?’ Man came into this world and destroyed the blissful world God created. If this is so, why did God create man?

Constantly we are plagued with different questions. We wonder why something happens and why we exist. More often than not we get the answers to all these questions but the greatest point is asking ourselves about the person that we are. Why do we exist? Why do you exist? In creation history, God created man on the sixth day, after He had set up everything for him. He let man name all the creatures. God created man in his own image and likeness. This statement alone manifests the responsibility that God bestows upon man. He created man because He believes that man is capable of doing things that He could do; that is the reason why man is called the caretaker or steward of God’s creation. God granted man the wisdom to think, say and do things that are right. He never gave wisdom because He wants man to use it with evil intent. God gave man wisdom so that he would take care of God’s creation.

God and I

God created man for very special reasons: to let him know God as his father; to let man know that as a Father, He truly loves him; to serve God by taking care of His creation; and to be with Him. Yet what did man do? He used God’s creation for his earthly desires. He abused nature for himself to prosper. He destroyed the beauty of God’s creation and let himself be manipulated by his animal instincts. This should not have happened! As said, man was given wisdom and because of this he is rational. He has the capacity to think, and that is thinking for the betterment of all. Naturally, God created man as a free and loving being. But man did not know the true essence of freedom and love. Freedom is not a license and does not mean that you can do whatever you want to do. Therefore, it is not freedom when man cuts down trees without a justifiable purpose. Likewise, loving has been misinterpreted. It takes real freedom to love. People often say that they are in love but the truth is, they are just in love with the idea of love. Why are there failed marriages? Why do some men hire prostitutes to fill their earthly desires?

Man is created in the image and likeness of God. God is within each one of us. Thus, man has no right to abuse others. If one hurts his fellow human, he is also hurting God. God is the source of all goodness. God created man; therefore man is fundamentally good. In spite of man’s evil doings, he still has hope to change himself. Changing one’s self for the better will be possible if there is genuine determination and a deep conviction to change.

Your Values and the World

But the world that we are in is a world with various beliefs and a world that imposes different values. These values often go beyond or may even fall short of what God labeled as moral values. God created a Utopian World but later on, as many human beings came into existence, the world changed. It became confusing and offered ambiguous responses to problems. Politics, economics, personal intentions and the like govern the world. It has become so complex that if someone relates himself to the world, he either gets himself lost or finds himself confused. The word ‘world’ per se is not anymore used as a global term. Rather it now has its personal connotation: my world, your world. When a human person does his own thing, which is different from what others do, he is said to be ‘doing things in his own world.’ It is really tiring to think of and, worse, to do things to change the world. When you attempt to save the world, you end up facing difficult problems and so you have no choice but to quit. This is where cooperation among human beings must enter.

A Better World

In order to achieve a better world, it all boils down to man, his very essence as a human being. If one wants to change the world for the better, one must first try to make oneself better, as a person and as God’s child. One cannot give the world true happiness if within oneself happiness is absent. Somehow, a human being and the world complement each other. As a human being does things, whether good or bad, the world is affected. As the world continues to move and cope with fast-paced changes, man in turn is affected. The existence of a human being is to see to it that he does things for the betterment of all, not just because of his own desires, whims and caprices. If a human being learns to discover and probe in deeper detail that God brought him in this world for the purpose of being his steward, he will have the chance to make the world better. With the help of other individuals, man then lives a genuine life as the person that he truly is.   He then learns to cope with the world that he lives in and maintain the world God created for him.You may contact the author at:evert17_up@yahoo.com

Posadas In North Carolina

By Charles Phukuta Khonde CICM

Elsewhere we have an article showing how Filipinos have brought the Simbang Gabi to the USA. Here a missionary from the Democratic Republic of Congo discovers a parallel Mexican novena in his American parish. Both articles show how migrants can enrich the Church by bringing and adapting their religious traditions to the countries where they settle.

Advent means ‘coming.’ Hospitality is at the heart of Advent because it is a season of opening doors. During this time the community of Saint Eugene Catholic Church in Wendell, North Carolina, USA, prepares, like all other Christians around the world, for the coming of Jesus, born that first Christmas in a stable. Here, our Advent season is marked by two special traditions among others: the novena preparing us to celebrate the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe on 12 December, and the Posadas, a novena that prepares us for the celebration of Christmas. The Spanish word posada means ‘inn.’ ThePosadas begin on 16 December and end on 24 December. They are a reenactment of Mary and Joseph’s journey to Bethlehem (Luke 2:2-7).

Christmas Procession

The parish community participates in this novena on the nine nights before Christmas. The first part of the Posada is strictly religious. People process from house to house. Two young people dress as Mary and Joseph and lead the procession with the crowd behind them, symbolic of the journey before Jesus’ birth.

At each home, the people divide themselves into two groups: one group goes inside the house as innkeepers, while the other group remains outside playing the part of the pilgrims. At the first few houses, the group sings a dialogue of traditional verses, asking to be let into the homes. Behind each closed door comes the response that there’s no room for them. As the people walk from one building to another, sometimes carrying lighted candles, they sing villancicos or Christmas carols, preparing peoples’ hearts to be open to the newborn King. For the nine nights of the Posadas, the young people take turns changing roles and costumes. The smallest ones usually want to be shepherds, angels or magi all nine nights. As young as they are, the children are learning to share crowns and wings and staffs. Sharing is what love is all about, and that is what the Posadas teach, in action as well as in word.

‘Enter, Holy Pilgrims’

At the last house, the hard hearts behind the door melt and the joyful chorus, ‘Enter, Holy Pilgrims,’ ushers the participants into the home. On the last night, the Posada ends at the church where the baby Jesus is placed inside the Nativity scene at midnight.

This drama, recreating the Gospel scene, is very well produced. Each evening draws a mixed congregation of parents, their children and young people walking side by side. The procession includes many people dressed in traditional Mexican costumes. Neighbors come out to watch, allowing them to be evangelized by this ancient yet ever new tradition of Mary and Joseph knocking on doors seeking lodging.

Breaking of Piñata

A second activity associated with the Posadas is the breaking of a piñata. Piñatas are often made of paper, glue, balloons, crepe paper, and filled with fruits and candy. The piñata is firmly tied to a rope, and then hung from a pole or a branch of a tree. Someone holds the other end of the rope, pulling the piñata up and down to make it a more elusive target for the person attempting to break it open. All children present take a turn and the people sing a special song while the child follows the directions of others and tries to break the piñata.

When it is broken, all scramble for the candy, fruit and gifts falling to the ground. For the community of Saint Eugene, the piñata is a symbol of faith, hope and love of God. Traditionally, a piñata has seven peaks representing the seven capital sins. Breaking it with a stick signifies virtue, since the stick that breaks the sins plays the part of Christian faith.

Tradition of the Past

After the piñata, dinner is served, every family bringing food to share. A typical meal includes homemade tamales (a Mexican dish prepared with a mixture of meat and chilies and cornmeal, wrapped in a corn husk and steamed), ponche (fruit punch), bunuelos (a thin fried pastry sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar), champurado (hot chocolate mixed with cornmeal and brown sugar) and cookies. The Posadas constitute a powerful and meaningful church and family tradition. These traditions establish family roots and connectedness. They help tie the past to the present, linking year after year, childhood to adulthood, grandparent to grandchild, with shared experiences, values and memories. This cultivates a sense of identity – who one is and where one belongs.

Our Divine Visitor

The Posadas remind us all about the need to show hospitality to one another. The meaning of thePosada, however, is as much about Jesus’ coming as it is about our own readiness to welcome him into our hearts, our homes, and our lives. The doors of our hearts must be open and ready to welcome the Christ who continues to come to us. Advent is an appropriate time to recommit ourselves to this openness. Advent is a season of opening doors so that we can both give and receive this love. Advent is a wake-up call, alerting us and challenging us to become more aware of the Divine Visitor who faithfully knocks at the door of our lives. How we welcome other human beings into our lives is how we welcome Emmanuel (Mt 25:31-46).

What Bethlehem really means

Through the Posadas, we recall the many times we have shut our inner door on Emmanuel. It allows us to reflect about the times we’ve refused to receive the truth, love and goodness that are offered, when we have chosen to be alienated from others or ourselves, when we’ve barred the door to those who need our forgiveness, kindness and compassion. Advent is the time to let in those people who have been standing at the door of our heart for a long time. Bethlehem is not just ‘an event’ that happened and is finished. It is something we must live. In our lives, in the circumstances in which we live, we need to respond to Bethlehem’s full meaning. Through the Posadas, becoming a pilgrim and following Mary and Joseph, each person becomes part of the Christmas story.

Simbang Gabi In Seattle

By Suzanne Goloy-Lanot

This article is reprinted by permission of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, where it first appeared first appeared on 19 December 2004. Suzanne Goloy-Lanot is originally from San Juan, Metro Manila, and her husband Leonardo, now retired from the US Navy, from Mandaluyong City. They live inBremerton, Washington State, with their daughter Adrienne Marie (23) and their son Jean-Lenard (19).


PHOTO: Bob Farmer

From its humble roots in the Philippines, the Simbang Gabi has been celebrated sporadically among Filipino communities throughout the United States. Now it is observed in its grandeur and pageantry as part of the Advent devotion in the Archdiocese of Seattle.

Parishes are encouraged to celebrate it, following a standard liturgy, including music and readings. Here it is a sacred ritual of lights, symbolized by the parol, which the Archbishop of Seattle, the Most Reverend Alexander J. Brunett, refers to as the Light of Christ. 

On 17 December 1997, on the eve of his installation, the archbishop celebrated the first Simbang Gabi and was so moved by the experience, he has since encouraged the entire archdiocese to participate in it.

Spearheaded by 27 parishes, the novena now involves over 80 parishes, including those without any Filipino members. Parish coordinators confer with the archdiocese and the schedule of Masses throughout western Washington State is disseminated through community publications and websites.

Like a crusade, the archdiocese tries to get more parishes involved every year. 

The Archdiocese of Seattle, home to people from different countries and cultures, has dominion over 10 deaneries that encompass over 160 parishes throughout western Washington State. My parish, Holy Trinity, as well as Our Lady, Star of the Sea and five other parishes and two mission churches, make up the Olympic Deanery.

The first novena Mass is called the Commissioning Mass, during which the archbishop commissions the parish coordinators to return to their parishes and commence the novena. Parishes within the deaneries then take turns in hosting the Simbang Gabi until the remaining eight novena Masses have been completed.

Because the vitality and significance of Simbang Gabi in the community has grown, the first Mass is now celebrated at St James Cathedral, Seattle,, the center for cultural and ecumenical events.

When I lived in the Philippines, I rarely attended the Simbang Gabi. But now, even on a stormy night and after a long day at work, I go all the way to Seattle to attend it, if only to see the parols hung near the altar, representing the parishes involved in this Advent devotion. 

For this I am thankful to Dr Telly Muldong-Tantay, a retired physician with the rank of captain in the US Navy and now a member of the Asian Pacific American Advisory Board of the Archdiocese of Seattle. She has been promoting Filipino Christian values and founded the San Lorenzo Ruiz Guild of the Our Lady Star of the Sea parish.

Kimona in freezing weather

I remember the first time I attended the Commissioning Mass at St James Cathedral. In the freezing downpour, the bus going to the ferry terminal was filled with passengers like me, clad in our nativekimona and barong underneath heavy coats and thick jackets.

Covered and protected from the elements, two parols were brought on board. One was from Our Lady Star of the Sea parish, the other from Holy Trinity, where I belong.

During the 45-minute trip to Seattle, across Puget Sound,, the ferry bobbed with the rhythm of the raging waves. However, amid the fury of the elements, there was a collective calmness among the passengers.

Because of the cold December weather and rushed workday mornings, Simbang Gabi is celebrated at night followed by a reception, ranging from a simple merienda to an extravagant fiesta, complete with cultural entertainment.

Last year, the commissioning rites were moved to a noontime weekend Mass in order to accommodate workers and to allow an easier commute for those who had to travel from the far ends of western Washington, especially during inclement weather.

Dazzling procession

As I entered the 100-year-old St James Cathedral, a fine example of Italian Renaissance style, I was immediately made aware of the Divine presence by the Latin mosaic inscription Domus Dei, Porta Coeli (House of God, Gate of Heaven) on the floor.

After admiring the stained glass windows and the exquisitely crafted paneled ceiling, which emulated the coffering techniques of some of the great cathedrals and basilicas of Europe, I proceeded toward the sanctuary which was positioned at a cross point where the transepts intersected. At the center of the sanctuary stood the altar, beneath a circular skylight called the oculus Dei (eye of God).

Then the lights were diffused and the first chords of Advent music from the pipe organ reverberated. Subsequently, rays of crimson, azure, emerald and gold radiated from a procession of parols of varied sizes, shapes and colors, illuminating the path toward the sanctuary. 

Fastened on poles and carried by parish coordinators, the parols dazzled with the brilliance of kaleidoscopic sequences and others, more traditional in design, glowed with subtlety and grace. This stunning exhibition of lights was followed by the procession of altar servers, deacons and priests, culminating in the arrival of the archbishop.

Filipino pride

Touched by the radiance of the parols, the archbishop stood in the midst of the parish coordinators gathered around the sanctuary and performed the commissioning rites that commenced the first novena Mass of the Simbang Gabi.

A choir of about a hundred members from various parishes joined in celestial harmony with renditions of Filipino liturgical compositions. As songs of exaltation filled the air, a huge, golden five-point star descended from the ceiling, preceding a stream of smaller stars. It remained suspended over the altar.

My heart swelled with Filipino pride.

Serenade for archbishop

But what touched me most was the archbishop's brief yet impressive salutation in alog, and his powerful message to the congregation, portraying the parol a as the Light of Christ.

This year, in appreciation of the archbishop's tremendous support of Simbang Gabi a serenade in Filipino fashion will honor him when he makes his entrance to the banquet hall.

Pilgrimage

The essence of this celebration is in the spirituality shared by a diverse community of believers. For me and for countless others who observe this Advent devotion, the gathering in Seattle has become a pilgrimage.


World Youth Day Vigil Address

Pope Benedict XVI

This is the talk given by the Holy Father in Cologne, Germany, at the vigil on Saturday night, 20 August. It is believed that the relics of the Magi, ‘The Three Kings,’ are in Cologne Cathedral, hence the theme of WYD XX, ‘We have come to worship him’ (Mt 2:2). The Holy Father touches on the questions discussed by Cris Evert Berdin Lato in Our Hideaway.


Pope Benedict XVI

Dear young friends,

In our pilgrimage with the mysterious Magi from the East, we have arrived at the moment which Saint Matthew describes in his Gospel with these words:  ‘Going into the house (over which the star had halted), they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him’ (Mt 2:11).  Outwardly, their journey was now over.  They had reached their goal.  But at this point a new journey began for them, an inner pilgrimage which changed their whole lives.  Their mental picture of the infant King they were expecting to find must have been very different.  They had stopped at Jerusalemspecifically in order to ask the King who lived there for news of the promised King who had been born.  They knew that the world was in disorder, and for that reason their hearts were troubled.  They were sure that God existed and that he was a just and gentle God.  And perhaps they also knew of the great prophecies of Israel foretelling a King who would be intimately united with God, a King who would restore order to the world, acting for God and in his name.  It was in order to seek this King that they had set off on their journey:  deep within themselves they felt prompted to go in search of the true justice that can only come from God, and they wanted to serve this King, to fall prostrate at his feet and so play their part in the renewal of the world.  They were among those ‘who hunger and thirst for justice’ (Mt 5:6).  This hunger and thirst had spurred them on in their pilgrimage – they had become pilgrims in search of the justice that they expected from God, intending to devote themselves to its service.

Even if those who had stayed at home may have considered them Utopian dreamers, they were actually people with their feet on the ground, and they knew that in order to change the world it is necessary to have power.  Hence they were hardly likely to seek the promised child anywhere but in the King’s palace.  Yet now they were bowing down before the child of poor people, and they soon came to realize that Herod, the King they had consulted, intended to use his power to lay a trap for him, forcing the family to flee into exile.  The new King, to whom they now paid homage, was quite unlike what they were expecting.  In this way they had to learn that God is not as we usually imagine him to be.  This was where their inner journey began.  It started at the very moment when they knelt down before this child and recognized him as the promised King.  But they still had to assimilate these joyful gestures internally.

They had to change their ideas about power, about God and about man, and in so doing, they also had to change themselves.  Now they were able to see that God’s power is not like that of the powerful of this world.  God’s ways are not as we imagine them or as we might wish them to be.  God does not enter into competition with earthly powers in this world.   He does not marshal his divisions alongside other divisions.  God did not send twelve legions of angels to assist Jesus in theGarden of Olives (cf. Mt 26:53).  He contrasts the noisy and ostentatious power of this world with the defenseless power of love, which succumbs to death on the Cross, and dies ever anew throughout history; yet it is this same love which constitutes the new divine intervention that opposes injustice and ushers in the Kingdom of God.  God is different – this is what they now come to realize.  And it means that they themselves must now become different, they must learn God’s ways.

They had come to place themselves at the service of this King, to model their own kingship on his.  That was the meaning of their act of homage, their adoration. Included in this were their gifts – gold, frankincense and myrrh – gifts offered to a King held to be divine.  Adoration has a content and it involves giving.  Through this act of adoration, these men from the East wished to recognize the child as their King and to place their own power and potential at his disposal, and in this they were certainly on the right path.  By serving and following him, they wanted, together with him, to serve the cause of good and the cause of justice in the world.  In this they were right.  Now, though, they have to learn that this cannot be achieved simply through issuing commands from a throne on high.  Now they have to learn to give themselves – no lesser gift would be sufficient for this King.  Now they have to learn that their lives must be conformed to this divine way of exercising power, to God’s own way of being.  They must become men of truth, of justice, of goodness, of forgiveness, of mercy.  They will no longer ask:  how can this serve me?  Instead they will have to ask:  How can I serve God’s presence in the world?  They must learn to lose their life and in this way to find it.  Having left Jerusalem behind, they must not deviate from the path marked out by the true King, as they follow Jesus.

Dear friends, what does all this mean for us?  What we have just been saying about the nature of God being different, and about the way our lives must be shaped accordingly, sounds very fine, but remains rather vague and unfocussed.  That is why God has given us examples.  The Magi from the East are just the first in a long procession of men and women who have constantly tried to gaze upon God’s star in their lives, going in search of the God who has drawn close to us and shows us the way.  It is the great multitude of the saints – both known and unknown – in whose lives the Lord has opened up the Gospel before us and turned over the pages; he has done this throughout history and he still does so today.  In their lives, as if in a great picture-book, the riches of the Gospel are revealed.  They are the shining path which God himself has traced throughout history and is still tracing today.  My venerable predecessor Pope John Paul II beatified and canonized a great many people from both the distant and the recent past.  Through these individuals he wanted to show us how to be Christian; how to live life as it should be lived – according to God’s way.  The saints and the blesseds did not doggedly seek their own happiness, but simply wanted to give themselves, because the light of Christ had shone upon them.  They show us the way to attain happiness, they show us how to be truly human.  Through all the ups and downs of history, they were the true reformers who constantly rescued it from plunging into the valley of darkness; it was they who constantly shed upon it the light that was needed to make sense – even in the midst of suffering – of God’s words spoken at the end of the work of creation:  ‘It is very good.’  One need only think of such figures as Saint Benedict, Saint Francis of Assisi, Saint Teresa of Avila, Saint Ignatius of Loyola, Saint Charles Borromeo, the founders of nineteenth-century religious orders who inspired and guided the social movement, or the saints of our own day – Maximilian Kolbe, Edith Stein, Mother Teresa, Padre Pio.  In contemplating these figures we learn what it means ‘to adore’ and what it means to live according to the measure of the child of Bethlehem, by the measure of Jesus Christ and of God himself.

The saints, as we said, are the true reformers.  Now I want to express this in an even more radical way:  only from the saints, only from God does true revolution come, the definitive way to change the world.  In the last century we experienced revolutions with a common program – expecting nothing more from God, they assumed total responsibility for the cause of the world in order to change it.  And this, as we saw, meant that a human and partial point of view was always taken as an absolute guiding principle.  Absolutizing what is not absolute but relative is called totalitarianism.  It does not liberate man, but takes away his dignity and enslaves him.  It is not ideologies that save the world, but only a return to the living God, our Creator, the guarantor of our freedom, the guarantor of what is really good and true.  True revolution consists in simply turning to God who is the measure of what is right and who at the same time is everlasting love.  And what could ever save us apart from love?

Dear friends!  Allow me to add just two brief thoughts.  There are many who speak of God; some even preach hatred and perpetrate violence in God’s name.  So it is important to discover the true face of God.  The Magi from the East found it, when they knelt down before the child of Bethlehem.  ‘Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father,’ said Jesus to Philip (Jn 14:9).  In Jesus Christ, who allowed his heart to be pierced for us, the true face of God is seen.  We will follow him together with the great multitude of those who went before us.  Then we will be traveling along the right path.

This means that we are not constructing a private God, a private Jesus, but that we believe and worship the Jesus who is manifested to us by the Sacred Scriptures and who reveals himself to be alive in the great procession of the faithful called the Church, always alongside us and always before us.  There is much that could be criticized in the Church.  We know this and the Lord himself told us so:  it is a net with good fish and bad fish, a field with wheat and darnel.  Pope John Paul II, as well as revealing the true face of the Church in the many saints that he canonized, also asked pardon for the wrong that was done in the course of history through the words and deeds of members of the Church.  In this way he showed us our own true image and urged us to take our place, with all our faults and weaknesses, in the procession of the saints that began with the Magi from the East.  It is actually consoling to realize that there is darnel in the Church.  In this way, despite all our defects, we can still hope to be counted among the disciples of Jesus, who came to call sinners.  The Church is like a human family, but at the same time it is also the great family of God, through which he establishes an overarching communion and unity that embraces every continent, culture and nation.  So we are glad to belong to this great family; we are glad to have brothers and friends all over the world.  Here in Cologne we discover the joy of belonging to a family as vast as the world, including heaven and earth, the past, the present, the future and every part of the earth.  In this great band of pilgrims we walk side by side with Christ, we walk with the star that enlightens our history.

‘Going into the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother, and they fell down and worshipped him’ (Mt 2:11).  Dear friends, this is not a distant story that took place long ago.  It is with us now.  Here in the sacred Host he is present before us and in our midst.  As at that time, so now he is mysteriously veiled in a sacred silence; as at that time, it is here that the true face of God is revealed.  For us he became a grain of wheat that falls on the ground and dies and bears fruit until the end of the world (cf. Jn 12:24).  He is present now as he was then in Bethlehem.  He invites us to that inner pilgrimage which is called adoration.  Let us set off on this pilgrimage of the spirit and let us ask him to be our guide.  Amen.

Your Turn

The author, now a high school senior, overcomes her reluctance to fulfill a class requirement as she is touched by two articles. 

Father Seán Coyle,

I’m Myla Patricia Aquino, a junior at St Scholastica’s College Manila. I’m writing to you as partial fulfillment of my requirements in Christian Living class. At first I never really wanted to do this task but, on the contrary, not only did I find one article that intrigued me, but I found two very interesting articles. Both are from your September- October 2004 issue.One is your own article on Gianna Beretta Molla, Choose the child – I insist on it and the other Life- giving Moments by Rosemary Taker. As I read these, I realized certain things that seem to be the answer to most peer pressure problems I, and people I know, face right now.

One of my friends once told me, ‘Love doesn’t make the world go round, money does.’ When she told me that, I felt for a time that perhaps she was right. Maybe, we all don’t really need love to survive; we need money to go on. After all, those that we consider as our daily necessities we get in exchange for money. We need money to buy food, to buy clothes and maintain our homes. Sometimes, we even have this tendency to think that money, and money alone, could make us happy since it could provide us with our necessities plus our luxuries in life. This kind of mentality would also lead us to think that we need to work for money so that we could live content. But reading those two articles made me change my mind. It made me realize that money is not the source of happiness and contentment. Simplicity of life often provides us with all the experiences we will ever need to overcome the challenges of life. And with these experiences, we will always find love.

I realized that when you put money in the picture, everything else loses its value and its essence seems to get jumbled up. By the time you realize that everything is complicated, your first initiative is to get money to resolve the issue and to get money is you have to go and look for it. You feel that without money, you won’t live happily because you think that it is the only thing that would resolve everything. An example is when you are hooked on the idea that the only way to be happy is to be popular, and the way to be popular is to acquire the latest gadgets – the latest cellphone model, an iPOD, a laptop, and when you reach 18, you’d want a car. So the way to be happy is to have money. This is totally wrong. It’s like you’re looking for something that is supposed to look for you. Happiness isn’t supposed to be located through a treasure-map, but in the heart of everyone - waiting to be shared.

In your article Choose the child – I insist on it, I felt that every pregnant mother has something to learn from Gianna Molla. We all live in a materialistic, self-centered world and we sometimes have to go with the flow in order to get by. Gianna proved the world wrong by clinging to her faith for survival -- not to what her environment dictated. During her last days she involved herself, not in enjoying the world for the last few moments, but in pursuing a better relationship with Him. And it seems she died a happy death. It made me realize that when all else fails, He will always be there for us no matter what the circumstances are. As Rosemary Taker puts it in her article, ‘…becoming vulnerable and powerless has brought me closer to God and strengthened my prayer life.’

On the other hand, I admire Rosemary Taker. It takes great courage and a huge leap of faith to be able to step, no, jump down from the world she’d grown up in and known and enter a place she’s not even sure she can handle. She showed great initiative in putting aside her desires and even some needs to perform missionary work, which happens to be her passion.  Work deeply rooted in love paved the way for her to experience instances of happiness and contentment.

As for my life, I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave everything I own - material things - to experience the happiness the simple things in life might bring my way. But one thing I know now for sure, love would be the only thing that would make my world go round.

You may email the author at: torete_03@yahoo.com