By John B. Din

The author is from San Miguel, Zamboanga del Sur. In 1993 he went as a Columban Lay Missionary to Brazil where he spent seven years before being assigned to Peru. In 2011 he was appointed Coordinator of the Columban Lay Missionaries in the Philippines. Last year, after his sabbatical year, he was appointed Regional JPIC (Justice, Peace and Integrity of Creation) Coordinator and is based in Quezon City.

John Din (left) and friends at graduation, University of Edinburgh 2015

In his book The Light Which Deems the Stars the late Columban Fr Colm McKeating, who worked in the Philippines for many years, argues that the sabbatical is the climax of creation and includes the care and protection of every creature because they all belong to God. Thus a sabbatical year is a not about rest and idleness but is rather meant to be an active and intense experience of God who is the ground of our existence. Indeed, it is about breaking with routine and the familiar and uncovering the extraordinary behind the veil of everyday experience. It is amazing how a different kind of work can reinvigorate when it fits the desire of the spirit.

By Emmanuel Trocino

Welcome to Peru, Land of the Incas (‘Land of the Kings’). Many would say that you’ve never really been to this resplendent country until you’ve set foot in the majestic and incomparable Machu Picchu. I was able to visit this Incan legacy. But there’s more to Peru than just visiting its archaeological sites, being amazed at its mountains, jungles and deserts, and getting stuffed with local delicacies. If you stay awhile in Peru you will fall in love with its culture, its tradition, its faith and its people.

I am a Columban seminarian from Pulupandan, Negros Occidental, on First Missionary Assignment (FMA) in Peru. FMA is part of our formation as future Columban priests. We leave our homeland to taste what it’s like to be a missionary in a foreign land, crossing boundaries, experiencing an unfamiliar culture and encountering God in a new face and language.

by Fr Noel Kerins

Columban Fr Noel Kerins was ordained in Ireland in December 1965 and has spent most of his priestly life in Peru.

Columban Fr Noel Kerins and his prison team at a Mass for prisoners.

It was a hot and humid day. The jail is isolated and surrounded by sand. The prisoner's name was Peter; he was 22-years-old. I asked him his name, but he looked at the ground. His face was sad. He had just been baptized; his mother and sister had arrived for the ceremony. I had embarrassed him by asking for his father's name.

In Peru, I would be called Noel Kerins Fitzgerald: both my father's and my mother's surnames are included. When Peter responded ‘My father never recognized me’ he suffered a double loss of face. He had only one surname, and now he had lost his honor, admitting that he was illegitimate, and that in front of a foreign priest.

Perhaps to some this episode might appear trivial. Eight years as a prison chaplain in Lima has taught me otherwise. The vast majority of those in that prison - in all 3,600 - are victims before they victimize others.

In Peter's case, his single mother was the bread-earner of his home. She worked a 12-hour day for the equivalent of US$10 dollars a day. His sisters, one five years older than he, the other three, looked after and nourished him from the outset.

By Fr Jovito Dales

Father Jovito shares how his childhood wonder at the ‘huge house inhabited by white strangers’ in Ozamiz City led him ultimately to leave a good job in the bank and become a Columban priest in Peru. He is now back in the Philippines as vocation director. He will be very happy to hear from any young man interested in following his footsteps at seladmj@yahoo.com

‘I pray especially for you to have the gifts of the Spirit of Discernment and the Spirit of Mission.’ That was the prayer of Columban Fr Desmond Hartford when he confirmed me in January 1997 in the chapel of the Carmelite Sisters, Marawi City, Lanao del Sur. After finding no proof of my confirmation Monsignor Des, then Apostolic Administrator of the Prelature of Marawi, suggested that I be confirmed there. He looked for my baptismal godparents, whom I had never met. He eventually found them and brought them to the ceremony. That was an unforgettable event precisely because I was born and baptized in Marawi City in 1969, but grew up in Catadman, Ozamiz City, when we left the war-torn place in 1972.

Encounter with the White Strangers

My first encounter with the Columbans was during my elementary years. Going to school I passed by a huge house inhabited by white strangers. We called it ‘Ang Palasyo’, ‘The Palace’, as it was the biggest house in town. Those passing by were curious about the overwhelmingly big house, about those white men what they were they doing in our place. Their towering height seemed threatening to little kids like me. But I was not afraid of them because they were very nice. They tried to speak and ask questions in Bisaya, and would even laugh as they were corrected. I learned that they were missionary priests and that Ang Palasyo was the central house of the Columban Fathers in Ozamiz City. Most of the Columbans I met in Mindanao were people-oriented, lived a simple lifestyle, were very down to earth and courageous, and chose to stay despite the danger – things that captivated me as I was silently discerning my vocation.