By Efren de Guzman, SVD

Dearest MISYON Friends,

May the Love be the real joy of our life. What a privilege to have time to write you through my stories are sometimes sad. Will I write what’s really happening to me or things that will not worry you? Some friends were saying: “We all have problems. But sometimes it’s good not to tell them to our loved ones and make them unhappy. “But how will they know what to pray for it if I don’t tell them our latest news. I told you already what happened last December when we got involved in a shooting incident. Thank God we survived!

February

February 19

On our way to Luanda, Fr. Raymun and I were attacked by a mob (around thirty young men). They blocked our way, started hitting and shaking the car; then one of them took the sunglasses of Raymun. They also opened the door on my side and were about to pull me out of the car. Suddenly a thought came to me: Fear not, just smile.” And they just stopped. We were surprises. Again, we thanked God for another lease of life. After the incident during thanksgiving prayer, one of our catechists who was tortured during the massacre of 1992 read the passage of 2 Corinthians 4:8-9 “We are often troubled, but not crushed; sometimes in doubt, but never in despair; there are many enemies, but we are never without a friend; and though badly hurt at times, we are not destroyed.”

February 23

Bad news form Cameroon. My eldest sister Emma with other two ICM Sister has an accident. Their car fell down on a ravine. Luckily the car got stuck between trees which served as buffer, sadly the Sister who was driving died when she was thrown out of the car. May our loving God grant her eternal rest. Meanwhile, the government teachers and health nurses and medics continue their strike against corruption. People were asking: “How long are we going to suffer for lack of security, food, medicines and other basic needs?”

February 26

Danu, 22 years old, one of our helper, who is taking care of the orphans, was assaulted in his own house. He was black and blue form the injuries he suffered. He was thrown almost naked in form o our house, we brought him to a hospital center in the capital, But he not admitted because the doctors are still on strike. Good thing we knew some First Aid.

February 28

The fourth meeting between President dos Santos and rebel leader Dr. Jonas Savimbi. Under UN supervision the two agreed to have one Armed Forces. At present the big problem we have is the control of guns. Image, for every five Angolans, three have arms.

February 29

Good news for the lepers, the orphans and the mutilated. Today we received the documents of the container of food, medicine, school materials we had purchased in South Africa. The beneficiaries are 150 lepers, 652 orphans, 80 amputees.

‘Forgotten People. If ever in the worked there are forgotten people, they are the captives lost behind the turmoil of revolution, dying of hunger, of heat or cold and filth, going insane from grief and hopelessness...’

March

March 2

Formation of the Catechists and Teachers. As we are in the season of Lent. We invited our collaborators and resource persons. Theme: “Conversion must begin now. Between a thousands yesterday and ten thousands new tomorrows there is only, and one, today.”

March 12

Meetings of missionaries in the province of Bengo, Caxito, 60 km. from Luanda. Some missionaries were complaining about their situation. One sister from Mexico had an answer: “It’s not so important where you live, but how you live.”

March 14

This is the day to check the logistics – water, food supplies. Medicines, in favor of the lepers in Funda, Menongue, and other places. March 15-16: out of 46 villages of the displaces people we were able to visit five villages in two days and brought basic help to the orphans who are living as members of the families who received them. Today was the day for the formation of the youth.

March 15-16

Passing through Kikola, I was surprised to see a man pointing a fun at me. It’s like in the Old West where guns seem to be everywhere. I didn’t react as if nothing happened. Fr. Raymun and other companions were also used to these kinds of threats. Just continue your work and leave the rest to God. One old catechist said: “Remember young man, when you lose your control, dignity and honor, you seem to lose your all. If you survive life’s eternity, our life is just a twinkle of an eye.” Dr. Juana, OSB told us that last week two convents of the Dominican’s and Salvadorian Sisters were robbed. The car of the Dominican was taken.

March 20

Today I visited the mutilated prisoners of war, the survivors of the last massacre of Luanda. My heart bleeds to see them.

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Mistaken Identity

Mr. William Opare, in-charge of Entertainment Club of Kintampo Rural Health Training School, came to invite me for a talk. “Where is Fr. Joe?” he asked. “Oh, do you have any message for him? I can give it to him.” Innocently, he gave me the message after which we continued talking about Fr. Joe. He assured me he would follow-up the invitation the following day. When he came back, he asked again, “Is Fr. Joe in?” “Yes.” “Where is he?” “Infront of you. Lucky you did not say anything bad about him the last time.” I said laughing.

Snakes Alive

I have rarely seen a snake in our compound garden. But one morning while watering the flowers. I was almost attacked by a black cobra crossing the gutter. Luckily the door to the corridor was open. I grabbed my bolo (similar of the Andres Bonifacio used in the Cry of Balintawak!) and I cut the snake in two but I was really trembling. At around ten o’clock . I was passing through the laundry room when I saw a ‘cobra’. I jumped and shouted “Cobra! Cobra!” The mission helper came running only to laugh at me. it was the coiled cord of the electric iron which looked like color of a black cobra. One traumatic experience needs to be exorcised or it may cause others!

Repent

Not knowing his personal background, I asked my devoted co-worker at the garden the meaning of Sakyire which is the name of the dog. He said, “It means REPENT.” Later I was told he was just released from prison. He had caught stealing a motor bike but now he had repented. But why blame the dog?

Call no one Father

Greeted “Good afternoon, Father!” by the children in our mission compound, one of our Filipino visitor advanced in age and quite bald complained to me. “Those children are greeting me as ‘Father. Everywhere I go they call me Father and I don’t like it because I am not a priest. But I wouldn’t mind if they called BISHOPS “he said flashing a smile from ear to ear.

Feel at Home

The parish priest Fr. Victor Leones, SVD from Abra, Philippines, and I were thinking of making a signboard for our church cemetery. After a few months, I suggested, “Why Roman Catholic Cemetery, Feel at Home!’

Inculturation

Out of idle curiosity, one village teacher wanted to know why I choose Ghana as my mission. I replied, “When I was asked to choose, I looked first at my skin, thought African, and told myself that I must to the place where I will be easily inculturated in color.

By Fr. Francisco Hoare, SSC

Sr. Pushpa is a 30 year old Missionary Sister of the Society of Mary. She is the first Indian Sister from Naleba, Labasa. Her father, Arjun, presented Pushpa, her three brothers and younger sister Shakuntula to Fr. McCaffey for instruction and baptism when Pushpa was about 7 years old. She joined the SMSM order in 1985. She has been appointed to work as a missionary in the Philippines. Fr. Frank Hoare interviews her here.

Fr. Frank: How did your Hindu parents decide to send your and your brothers and sister to Church?

Sr. Pushpa: Some of my happiest memories as a child were Fr. McCaffey’s unexpected visits to our house, he once arrived without warning as my mother washing clothes at a well while I as sitting under a tree with a boil on my knee. He talked with my mother while she washed the clothes and when she had finished he carried me home. Although he was of a different race he was very close to us. Because of his visits my father, with whom he was especially friendly, came to admire the Catholic religion and he decided to send us younger children to church. He himself did not ask for baptism though he supports us by helping with the cleaning of the church compound at Easter and Christmas. My mother stayed quietly in the background.

Fr. Frank: Why did your father want yourself and your brothers and sister to become Catholic?

Sr. Pushpa: My father said the he sent us to church because he wanted us to be good people. Though he remained a Hindu himself, he supported us in our Catholic faith. If we skipped our prayers, even just one day. He would say, “Watch out”. When father comes, I’ll tell him that you did not pray.” He sat behind and watch us. We said long prayers – evening prayer followed by rosary with hymns in between. When my brother Lingam would doze of my father would shout at him. “Hey, what are you doing? Pray!” hew was a Christian at heart and I admired him. He himself would say his own Hindu prayers every night.

Fr. Frank: How did you decide to become a religious Sister?

Sr. Pushpa: After leaving school I stayed at home for a couple of years. My father began  to arrange a marriage for me. I told him that I didn’t want to marry because the boy was a Hindu. It had taken me so many years to get to know Jesus. It had not been easy. My paternal uncles had opposed us going to church and I had seen my father off by Fr. McCaffey at times for making work on the farm Sundays instead of sending us to church. After all that I didn’t want to go back. My faith was precious to me and I knew that my intended husband wouldn’t allow me to go to church. So I gathered courage and spoke out. That was the first time any of us had spoken back to one of our parents.

Fr. Frank: Was your father surprised at you?

Sr. Pushpa: He certainly was! My brothers too were speechless. My father began to question me. “I think I want to be a Sister,” I told him. “I think God is calling me to be a Sister.” He said, “Look, I have been doing puja (worship) all these years and God has never told me anything. How do you know that God is calling you? Did you see God?” “No” I answered. “But I fell in inside me” he was amazed. After that he initiated conversations almost every night about God calling me to be a Sister. He found it really fascinating. I was really happy that my father listened to me and was interested in what I was saying. I realized though that I wouldn’t be able to convince him on my own so o wrote to Sr. Frances, SMSM in Suva for her help. When she came to a wedding in Naleba she talked to my whole family and asked them to let me try. “Nothing would be lost by trying” she told them. My parents accepted that.

A couple of years later, on the day I actually left home to enter the convent as an aspirant, my father made sure that I had everything he never did that for anybody. He was sad that I was going. At the last moment he asked me if I had oil. He went to the kitchen and got little of oil for me. That really touched me. When I left he just stood there watching until I disappeared.

Four weeks later, I was allowed to go home in Labasa from the convent for the first time. My father was overjoyed. I just stayed home for one night but he and my whole family were very happy. That was the last I saw him. I was supposed to go home for Easter but he died before that.

Fr. Frank: What did you find difficult about religious life?

Sr. Pushpa: I cried a lot during the first few months as a postulant in Suva. I missed my father who died. I also missed home, the people I knew, and the things I usually did. I missed my mother’s home medicines when I was sick with flu. And I found the food in the convent very bland at first. There was no Hindi Mass every Sunday and I was always late for the prayers because I had nobody to wake me up. It was the beginning of my living independently. The Sisters from different countries with their strange accents were new to me. Although they where very nice to me, I told Sr. Stella that I wanted to go back home to Labasa with her. Gradually I got used to being away from home though I still feel homesick and miss my family at times.

Fr. Frank: What kept you going when it was difficult?

Sr. Pushpa: Prayers. I learned new ways of prayer – reading the psalms, meditating, saying the rosary and other prayers in English. I found the Christian doctrine classes interesting and I asked a lot of questions.

Fr. Frank: What do you think it means for the people in Naleba that you and your sister Shakuntula are Sisters?

Sr. Pushpa: I think that they are very proud of us. I have heard people saying. “Though their parents were not Catholics and they came form a poor family they want to do more for the Church they can at home.” But I find that they have set expectations of us. I have changed through being exposed to different cultures and to my studies. My mind is more open to new things than theirs. I explain this to my family especially to my eldest brother who wanted me to remain a village girl. But I know they are proud of us because every time we go home they have a formal welcome for us at the church and during prayer meetings. They make speeches and we give speeches, too.

Fr. Frank: Thank your very much, Pushpa. I wish your well for your ministry in the Philippines.

“My father said that he sent us to church because he wanted us to be good people.”

By Fr. Tom Gonzales, MSP

Msgr. Tomas Gonzales is from Baliuag Bulacan and was ordained for the Archdiocese of Manila. Having served in Tondo and Pasay and later as Pastor in Alabang and Sta. Cruz, he then volunteered as a missionary to Papua New Guinea and then at present in Hong Kong as an associate member of the Mission Society of the Philippines (MSP- is the official missionary arm of our Philippine Catholic Church). Here he tells of the two different worlds he has come to encounter. GUTBAI is the Pidgin word for 'Goodbye’, the GUDE for ‘Hello’ and ‘Good Day,’

Yes, after four years of missionary work at the MSP Missions at Lietre and Utai of Vanimo Diocese of the Sanduan Province of Papua New Guinea (bordering the Indonesian province of Irian Jaya), I have to say ‘Goodbye’ and move on. Indeed m we have to constantly keep Jesus Christ before our eyes, and never hesitate to go anywhere He leads us. We have to constantly ‘go and preachin’ the Gospel – a continual journey of a missionary who is always looking forward with eagerness to what lies ahead.

But now, I have to move on... to say “GUTBAI PNG” and at the same time say “GUDE”, HONG KONG”. For upon the request of the Bishops of Hong Kong to the Commission for the Pastoral Care of Migrants and Itinerant People of the Catholic Bishop’s Conference of the Philippines, I was sent by the Mission Society of the Philippines to minister to the Filipino Migrants in Hong Kong m now numbering 140,000 (excluding the illegal immigrants). Thus, with the opening of the new missions, I began a new chapter in my missionary journey. I no longer make long patrols on foot with a heavy bag on my back as in the jungles and rainforests of Papua New Guinea; nor do I experience more the hard life of the PNG mission – with no electricity, no roads, no basic necessities in life; crossing rivers with crocodile, or treading thick forest with danger of meeting a snake, a wild pig, a cassowary...or your legs being feasted on by leeches or being bitten by the malaria-carrying mosquito. Now I live in an environment which is the extreme opposite of my former mission. Now I live among a highly industrialized and hi-tech community; a materialistic world where time is gold and money is the thing that counts. I walk among well –clad people who are always in hurry ...running...rushing –to catch the bus, the MRT, the LRT, the train or the star-ferry boat. I walk in the midst of the “jungle” of concrete, tall buildings and skyscraper. Yes, now I could easily take the modern means of transportation, but still, I walk a lot... and walk past too, especially if I have to meet the different Filipino groups. Yes indeed walking literally and figuratively. And in a month’s time, my shoes are battered from over walk and also get sick from on overfatigue. But it is living our MSP charism:

In love and gratitude to the Father, ours is a joyful missionary spirit flowing from a deep union with Christ through Mary and in the power of the Holy Spirit to be willing to spend and be spent in sharing His Gospel to all.

I no longer risk my life crossing rivers with crocodiles or treading thick forest with the danger of meeting a snake, a wild pig, a cassowary...

By Sr. Andrea Cabunilas, AR

Bonthe, Sherbo Island was where the first Filipino Recollect Sisters went to Work. This place could be mistaken for a Filipino Town since the climate is the same as ours. The houses are not big and most of the rooves are of galvanized iron. The town is just beside the river with breakwaters or cement walls. Mangroves, coconut, palm and cotton trees grow around the town. Our means of transportation is wooden launch or speed boat.

How we got here

In 1986, Mother General Eufemia Lauzon. A.R. receives a letter from Cathedral Sin asking if our congregation could send sisters to Sierra Leone, a country in the West Africa. There is a need to work in an island where the Cluny sisters of St. Joseph were leaving due to lack of personnel. The first volunteers were Srs. Rachelda Liorando, Cristina Versoza, Teresa Bauitista, and Natalia Oliver. They left for Africa last May 15, 1986.

Poorest of the Poor

The nature of our work is divided into four: teaching in the secondary schools, running a clinic, a feeding program and the pastoral apostolate. The people are so dependent on drugs. The poorest of the poor are abandoned by their families. We feed, clothe and tend to their sickness. It they die without relatives we are the ones who bury them. When the parish priests leaves for three four months, we take charge of the liturgy and even perform services especially for funerals.

Ecumenism

The religious aspect of the town in very encouraging. Bonthe town is a model of ecumenism which is rarely seen in other dioceses and parishes. There is a yearly Easter reunion with religious heads: Catholic priest, the Muslim Eman, and all the pastor of the different Protestant sects leading the thanksgiving celebration. During Christmas and Easter vigil, masses, the church is full. There are Protestants, pastors and many Muslims.

Secret Society

The culture of the Sierra Leonians is very different from ours. Most of them the girls as soon as they reach adolescence have to join a secret society preparing them for marriage. Marriage is always arranged by parents and usually not a church marriage. Polygamy is so rampant. Fathers do not care for the education of their children. Poverty is everywhere. The girls easily enter the flesh trade due to poverty. Job opportunities are very scarce. Parents do not teach spiritual and moral values to their children. Nor are these include in the school curriculum although Bible knowledge is a subject in the secondary and college.

Our school apostolate is particularly challenging because we have to use it to instill moral values in the students. We have a lot to do and pray for in the vineyard of the Lord.

By Hector Pascua

Last Pentecost Sunday, 40 youth in our parish received the Sacrament of Confirmation. The preparation for this big event lasted for six months. Every week the youth gathered in the parish hall in four groups to discuss topics related to the Catholic faith. Every group had its own leader who was responsible for the group and acted as teacher. This year, three lay leasers m who took a religion course offered by the Diocese of Vienna, volunteered to lead each group. I myself took the fourth group composed of ten youths. .I designed a catechism booklet for the preparation with 10 chapters covering themes such as: Confirmation, church, Jesus, Faith, Eucharist, Mission, Christian Living, Reconciliation, Celebration pf the Sacrament.

Lively Sessions

Our sessions were lively and sometimes too short for the things everyone wanted to say. I asked the question: What comes to mind when you hear the word GOD?

As I already expected, different pictures and explanations of the word of God came out. Typical answers of youth from 13-15 years of age were Church heaven, an old man with beard. When I was still in elementary school, my mother always told me, God manifested himself in everything that is good. One answer that really touched me, (which at the end took me some time to reflect and eventually to design a pastoral strategy to answer such question) came from a four teen-year-old soft-spoken girl.

She said, “I could not simply explain the word God on two or three words. As a child and a young girl I was really a devout Catholic. Actually I am still a Catholic now. That is why, I am here attending religious lessens in preparation for the Sacrament of Confirmation. Though I have a lot of doubts about my faith...about the term God, I believe there are a lot of metaphors in the bible which really have a meaning but are difficult for us to understand. I believe there is SOMEBODY out there, who is looking at me and trying to put things in order. This somebody is the one whom we call on when something goes wrong. It is also the same in our lives. We call “Mama” or “Papa” when we are in need of their help. And this somebody we call on is maybe GOD. Nevertheless, when I try to reflect, many times I call on to God for help that my family live a happy life, that my parents would really understand each other. But I failed...my parents decided to separate.” Tears stared to flow from her eyes. I couldn’t utter a word. Silence filled the room. As a theologian, trained to give guidance in such situation, I found no answer for her. After a while, I tried to bring out our experiences and questions which more or less enlightened her. I spoke about freedom and responsibility which God gave us. In return, we have to transform these gifts into some thing that could bring a harmonious life... a life where there is sharing, love, peace.

Pastoral Considerations

The situation described above shows that a number of youth have little knowledge of Christian life. Therefore I tried to design a program that could motivate them in understanding and realizing their Christian faith. The objective of our youth ministry in the parish is to accompany the youth not only during the preparation for the Sacrament of Confirmation, but more importantly, to motivate them to attend and participate in youth related activities in the parish. In line with this, I would like to share some pastoral considerations to attain, this objective.

a) The so-called “ANGEBOT” (special offer)

This term is very popular in Austria especially during summer when supermarkets make special-offer sales. I borrowed the term and incorporated it into the youth program. After the celebration of the Sacrament of Confirmation, I gave-out pamphlets and placards to the youths and other interested parishioner. An example of an eye-catching placard says: “SPECIAL OFFER: An invitation to love – a night of prayer and songs. ADMISSION IS FREE!”: From the 40 youth, ten confirmed their interest in joining our weekly sessions.

b) Encounter

Encounter for me is synonymous with accompanying, sharing, acceptance and openness. In the parish. Thought the youth mi-nistry is still unfolding. I am already trying to go deeper into the encounter phase. Activities such as volleyball, football, table tennis games and other recreational sports can help the students get to know each other. And in the process, when camaraderie has been established, the third phase can then be introduced.

c) Communication/ Dialog

In this stage, the youth are invited to listen to inputs about faith and its relation to their lives. It gives them also an opportunity to share freely their faith experiences and questions. I am convinced that it is through dialog that the youth can voice out their sentiments (be they for or against the Church). Comments with something negative in it always come up when youth discuss matters regarding the faith and the Church.

From my encounter with different youth groups, I have learned that it is not always good to counteract such negative feelings and ideas. Sometimes such ideas do not need answers at all. What is important to them is to have somebody to whom they can voice out their sentiments – somebody to whom is willing to listen to them. Such attention is not present in most Austrian families. Children are sometimes neglected because of their parents’ work. Thus the youth ministry is making these pastoral considerations.

d) Evangelizers

The aim of every endeavor is to propagate it, make it fruitful so that it could be shared to others. Pope John Paul II said that the Church needs the youth for the transmission of the faith. The Vatican II likewise noted the youth as Hope of the Church. Indeed, this is our main objective. That the youth in the parish who are being evangelized will serve as evangelizers, too. That they themselves will impart the treasure they found in the Church. This is my wish and prayer. And I am very optimistic that with the increasing participation of the youth in the parish, we will accomplish faithfully these pastoral hopes – enabling the youth t o say: “it is wonderful to belong to the Church.”

The situation described above shows that a number of youth have little knowledge of Christian life. Therefore I tried to design a program that I could motivate them in understanding and realizing their Christian faith.

By Bo Sanchez

Perfect

There was a man who was looking for a perfect woman. So he searched for her far and wide, someone who was intelligence, beautiful, and charming..., (Note: This is not my personal story, no matter the man similarities, okay?) And after many years of exploring and waiting, he finally found her. So he courted her to ask for her hand in marriage. But sadly, she rejected him. (Sob) In his misery, he realized why; she was searching for the perfect man.

Let me tell you another story. I remember a friend of mine who told a priest one day, “Father, I have finally found the prefect Catholic community to join! They are such wonderful people. I’ll leave my old prayer group and join them!”

The priest replied, “Oh please, don’t join that group!” “Why not?” my friend asked, baffled. “Because then,” the priest smiled, “that community won’t be perfect anymore.”

Oh, why are we like this? We want perfect relationships, perfect prayer groups, perfect families, perfect jobs, perfect leaders, perfect spouses, perfect parents – we insist on it! We demand it! But for all that to happen, everyone has to be perfect.

Including us!

I remember passing by a huge display of cars. People came with their old cars, wondering  if they could exchange them with newer ones.

I began to think: I there was a store specialized in “trade-in” of spouses, prayer group leaders, parents, bosses, officemates, parish priests, friends, etc.—I bet that business would beat Shoemart in sales. But there is one place where the only thing we can “trade-in” is ourselves. You can “trade- in” your heart of stone for a heart of flesh (see Ezekiel 36:26).

I have discovered something terrible about myself. When I persistently see the wrong in others, I am shocked that many times it is because I subconsciously can’t stand the wrong that myself do. I hide my sins behind the sins of others. Somehow, it is easier for me to pull down others than for me to rise from my weaknesses.

Who is the loving person?

The one who sees imperfection in others and prays.
“Change me.”

Thank you, KERYGMA.

By Fr. Edgar S. Saguinsin

Could I be one of them? As I watched Serge laid in his grace, I have to say, I felt a level of pride. It was I who recruited him to join the labor union! Serge stood head the shoulder over the crowd of union members and officers as the most inspiring of them all! His story hints that this man might be a saint even though a controversial one.

Looking back I recall my conversation with Serge in 1973 at the Catholic Church rectory of La Carlota City where I was the parish priest. We talked about the plight of the sugar workers. It was not hard to convince Serge that one of the most effective ways of helping to improve the economic and social conditions of the sugar workers in Negros was to organize even under Martial Law. But we needed qualified labor union organizers, I told him, “I wonder if I could be one” Serge said. That remark started the history of Serge’s involvement with the National Federation of Sugar Workers (NFSW). We agreed that he would apply as an organizers and I would sponsor him.

National Federation of Sugar Workers

But before I continue with the story of Serge, let me go back to the beginnings of NFSW. The National Federation of Sugar Worker was founded in La Carlota City. One day in late 1970 Fr. Hector Mauri, SJ, a Jesuit priest, came up to my rectory and told me,” “Edgar, let us form our own sugar workers’ union!” Without hesitation I said, “Shoot.” I had been helping the Federation of Free Farmers (FFF) with their labor seminars. Mauri told me he was aware that in my Sunday homilies I had been preaching social justice. Mauri himself had been in the La Carlota area ten years before with the first attempts to organize the sugar workers under FFF. Those awkward early attempts ended rout. And now the dogged visionary was back and telling me, “This is the right time”. Immediately that afternoon of Mauri’s visit I rushed to Bishop Antonio Y. Fortich, then Bishop of Bacolod. I informed him of my plan with Mauri. Fortich in calming manner told me, “You shall be adviser only of the labor union.” But back in La Carlota events flew fast. That evening I visited my friend, Atty. Rodolfo Uriarte, and won from him the agreement that we would rent one of his house which since then had served as the original office of NFSW for many years. Not long after I was elected chairman of the board, and remained such, in addition to being man Friday of the labor federation until I left the country in July 1981. NFSW’s beginnings were sluggish and discouraging under almost insurmountable handicaps. At the start Mauri rounded up his veteran labor leaders among the sugar workers. But they did not last long. Depressed by an experience of past defeat, they themselves demoralized prospective members with their complaint of intimidation and reprisals. We decided to get organizers from other sources. Mauri conceived of the bright idea of recruiting fresh blood from the activist youth organization called Khi Rho. From them he recruited Ed Tejada who became the first NFSW president, Edilberto (“Pedic”) Federico, Popoy Jover, Oscar Orquia,. Sony Teves. Benilda Abrasia and others many of whom dropped out before long. The Columban Fathers of the south of Negros provided their own recommendees: Bobby Ortaliz, Jun Loberas, Bilmo Correjado and other quality organizers. The Carmelite Fathers of Escalante had their share of leader recruits: Roy Mahinay among them. I had my own find, a pearl of great price from La Carlota – Serge Cherniguin. After Serge agreed to join NFSW, I immediately went to see Mauri who said he wanted to meet Serge fist. The interview convinced Mauri beyond a doubt that Serge was a valuable asset. However, when I present Serge’s application for approval at NFSW Board of Directors meeting, all the rest of the board turned it down. “Isn’t Serge the plantation owner’s encargado (overseer) of the hacienda he is presently residing in? Doesn’t he have the reputation of being strict and time cruel to the workers?” These were their objections.

But I knew Serge personally, I argued, I had observed his quiet but winsome leadership when he gathered the workers every time I came to the hacienda for Mass. I could sense his deep faith and piety as a Catholic Christian, his sincerity, and concern for the welfare of people. Anyway, Mauri and I convinced the board that we needed people like Serge who could assist in the socio-economic projects of NFSW, especially our farm lots. Serge as a college graduate in agriculture, wasn’t he? Why not try him in the meantime? On this note the board agreed to take him in – to supervise our socio-economic projects and the people involved with them. This task suited Serge well and he performed it capably until the end.

Another Role

Like all of us Serge grew in love and dedication to the workers. His leadership also developed. In less than two years the NFSW board assigned him another important job, alliance work with other workers’ task even in the international field until his death.

My four years term as parish priest in La Carlota ended in 1974 and I started working full time with NFSW. Actually my official assignment in the diocese was director of the Diocesan of Labor Relations (DLRO) of the Social Action Center of the diocese. Under this office we started to organize other industrial workers also. But I spent most of my time with NFSW where I worked closely with Serge.

In 1976 Fr. Mauri had to make leave of NFSW because of the Martial Law presidential decree forbidding foreigners from engaging themselves directly or indirectly with the Philippine worker’s and peoples’ organizations. This left us to manage for ourselves. And avail more of Serge services. The year 1978 marked the rapid growth and spread of the federation. We needed more leaders and organizers not only for the new areas we opened but also for the national office in Bacolod. By this time Serge became a full time organizer, a recognition of his emerging leadership.

We began noticing more of Serge. We noticed his facility in writing. I learned at funeral that his youth’s unrealized dream was to study journalism. He was eloquent and forceful at public discourses although a quiet man at meetings and in private conversations. People felt comfortable in his company because he was like a caring father or big brother. To them he was always available. I don’t know by what mental process but they sensed his honesty and moral integrity immediately. He was always respectful and deferent to people, and in turn won the respect even of people who hated his guts. His dedication and capacity for work was impressive.

New Approached

In 1978 the NFSW board of directors passed a policy resolution to change approach or modus operandi. Instead of being confrontational, we resolved to use reason, moderation and friendly diplomacy without, of course, selling out on the workers and our principles. It worked. For the four ensuing years, NFSW suffered less harassment from the police and military, concluded collective bargaining agreements (CBA’s) with more sugar plantations, and won more cases in the Department of Labor and in the court. Notably, we won two certification election cases in the Philippine Supreme Court- one with the La Carlota sugar mill and the other with the copper mine in Sipalay, Negros occidental and concluded CBA’s with them. Serge and all the rest of us were breathless busy during these years because of NFSW’s fast growth and expansion. In July, 1981 I left the country suddenly for my safety. Because of the resulting vacuum, Serge and the other union officials had to assume more tasks and responsibilities. I stayed in Germany for the first yes tans a half, and thereafter in Hawaii, U.S.A. until my return in July 1994. During my absence, Serge, then already vice president of NFSW, together with the other union officials, updated me regularly on developments. Serge and I had a reunion at a conference in Trinidad and Tobago in 1983, and twice in Honolulu in 1987 and 1989 on his alliance work missions. Form the fall of Marcos in 1986 until my return I had long chats with Serge each time I came to Negros for my annual one-month vacation.

During my absences many tins happened that were so painful and sad for the NFSW members and officers and for the other people affected. There were, for example, the dramatic but most painful strike at the La Carlota City sugar mill in 1982, the much publicized Escalante massacre in 1985, then other labor strikes, mass mobilizations and demonstrations, mass massacres of farmers and so on. Serge was found amidst all these events in a major supporting role. People took note of his remarkable courage and quiet perseverance during this time. Under sustained attacks, insults, lawsuits and threats, he stood his ground, insisting on justice for the workers, protest against violations of human rights, and the fall for social reform. But he showed mo sign of hatred of his enemies. He had no personal enemies either within the union or outside it! He never came across as a man of violence, but a man of peace. Later conflicts and rifts within his own labor federation and defections occurred. Serge downhearted could not see himself abandon the worker members and their federation, he faithfully assumed more tasks and responsibilities for a fragmented organization.

Daily Mass

But most remarkable thing about Serge Cherniguin, as I am concerned, is that though all these events of success or crises and pain this mestizo Russian came to Mass and receive Holy Communion almost everyday –again quietly and without ever making deference to it! Was id his faith, hope and love for God that sustained his dedication to the service of the workers and the poor until his heart was literally broken? Serge had a dream eve since he joined the labor federation. Born and brought up in a sugar plantation and having toiled on it, he had conceived an intense dream that someday land in Negros would be in the possession of those who till it with their hands. As a college graduate in Agriculture, he had pursued this dream as his special personal crusade. He had suffered previous heart attacks due to stress and overwork. Bu the could not afford to rest. He continued working especially with the Agrarian Reform Alliance of Democratic Organization to help workers and farmers get the titles to the land they were already occupying. One morning while he was working at one such land title, he suffered massive heart attack and died in the office of NFSW – FGT. As a retired Bishop Antonio Y. Fortich said at his funeral mass, “Serge Cherniguin may have been laid to rest, but his spirit, and work will continue.”

‘I had my own find, a pearl of great price form La Carlota – Serge Cherniguin.’

‘People felt comfortable in his company because he was like a caring father of big brother to them. He was always available. I don’t know by what mental process but they sensed his honesty and moral integrity immediately.’

‘This mestizo Russian came to Mass and received Holy Communion almost everyday -again quietly and without ever making reference to it.’

By Ma. Ceres Doyo

“True to form, true to form,” a young Jesuit sobbed when he learned of the death of his friend and fellow Jesuit Brother Richard “Richie” Michael Fernando, 26. As Richie lived, so did he die. He live working among the victims of violence, he died in the midst of them.

Richie was killed by a grenade on October 17 at the Jesuit –run Centre of the Dove in Phnom Penh, Cambodia. At the time of his death, Richie was doing his two-year-regency, that stage when young Jesuits studying to be priests get immersed in an apostolate. Richie had spent two years each in the novitiate, juniorate and in philosophy studies. He had made his simple vows as a Jesuit, hence the ‘S.J’. After his name and had four more years of theology studies to go before he gets ordained. He would have been a priest by the year 2001.

An e-mail message sent to the Jesuits of the Philippines Province said: With deep sadness Jesuit Service Cambodia announces the death of Richie Fernando, a 26 year old Jesuit scholastic who has worked for 18 months as a guide and friend to the disabled students of Banteay Prieb, Kandal, Cambodia.

He was killed by a grenade at the Centre of the Dove at 9:30 AM....Two disabled students were also injured in the incident and are recovering....

Richie’s body is now at the Jesuit Service House in Phnom Penh. A very moving sight was the arrival of many of the disabled students coming to pay their respects and honour Richie in their Buddhist way. People with one arm, one leg or no legs were crouched beside the bed, their crutches making a kind of guard of honor...

The event happened when a troubled student attempted to throw a hand grenade into a class of students. Richie held him to restrain him and was hit in the based of his skull and in his back by the (exploding) grenade. By embracing the disturbed student Richie saved the lives of many other students but lost his own in this courageous act.

Richie had an extraordinary heart for the disabled people...One of the recent things Richie did at the Centre of the Dove was to welcome students for literacy and numeracy training and to prepare students graduating for the festival scheduled this coming November 1, Feast of All Saints.

Letters from Cambodia

Brother Pedro Ariston, S.J. a friend and classmate since high school, college and novitiate days, kept Richies’s letter from Cambodia. The last one he received was short, terse and in a hurry. “Kamusta”! Sorry, medyo busy ako ngayon. May biglang lumapit... nang gusto kong magsulat. Meeting o ayos mg problema kaya. Sige. Salamat sa sulat enjoy sa buhay. Richie.”(Hello! Sorry I’m busy now. Someone came when o was about to write you. Meeting and solving problems. Thanks for the letter and enjoy life.)

Brother Pedro remembered Richie as a very regular guy, crazy about rock and new wave music. He had a great collection, this friend said. Richie went to Claret for high school and Ateneo for college. He first majored in Management Engineering but late shifted to Development Studies. That was when Richie was also shifting his priorities. His parents at first envisioned a life in business for him.

“Mommy,” he told his mother, “even if I do not become a priest I want to live a simple life.” Richie first spoke to his mother about the “calling” and after a time he describes it as becoming “intense”. In order for him to discern whether or not the calling was real, Richie lived in Arvisu House, the Jesuits’ pre-novitiate, where he experienced a life of community during his last year in college. He was drawn toward the poor, his mother says, and oh, she worried about him.

In 1990, on the eve of his entrance into the novitiate Richie said, “Mommy, remember, when you turn me over tomorrow, I will no longer be your son. I will belong to the Society of Jesus.” Richie was the youngest of four children. One family day at the Sacred Heart Novitiate in Novaliches when his mom Visitation, dad Antonio and brother Raymond and sister Ma. Theresa and Angelica visited him, Richie said,” Don’t worry about me, the Jesuits will take care of me. When I die a Jesuit will be buried in the Jesuit graveyard.” He then took his family to the burial grounds.

During Pope John Paul II’s visit and World Youth Day in 1995, Richie spent time with the Cambodians amputees who came. He even invited them for a dinner with his family. Shortly after, Richie flew to Cambodia to work with the victims of the war. Brother Totet Banaynal, one of the first Jesuit scholastics to work with amputees in Cambodia, became a close friend of Richie. The two wrote each other often.

Unexploded mines

In Cambodia there are an estimated nine million unexploded mines still waiting for victims. That is one land mine for every Cambodian. There are now 36,000 Cambodian amputees who are trying to be useful to society. The Jesuits run a technical institute for them. Amputees are also trained to make wheelchairs and artificial limbs for themselves and future victims.

International NGO’s have been calling for a ban on mine production, for manufacturers to contribute to fund for victims, for the United Nations to promote landmine awareness, clearance and eradication. In Afghanistan there are close to 30,000 amputees. In Angola 20,000. Richie worked with victims during the 18 months that he was in the land of mines. He was in a milieu which was less than safe. Earlier, a similar killing occurred within the compound where he worked, but Richie was happy where he was. He felt at home in the culture; he even learned to speak and sign his name in Khmer. In one of his letter to the Raymundo (on his mother’s side) and Fernando families Richie said: I chose for follow Christ and chose to be a Jesuit. I also chose to be with the handicapped... former soldiers, farmers, workers, a young people in the neighborhood. I believe I have greater thing in life that’s why I’m enjoying life these day.” Ritchie’s mother says she never sensed her son wavering in his vacation. It was not easy giving Richie up to the Jesuits, the mother said. But when she had accepted her son’s choice she began to find it hard to imagine Richie giving up the priesthood. But she told him not to worry in case he would change his mind. Richie himself tried not to get his parent worried. Why, his mother learned he had contracted dengue fever only after he got well.

Richie’s last letter by e-mail was to Brother Totet. It was dated Oct. 13, four days before his death. Ang puso ko ngayon ay nasa mga mahihirap. Estudyante natin. Feeling ko and lapit ko ngayon kay Jesus. Masayang masaya ako.”

Richie was laid to rest at the Jesuit burial ground in Novaliches.

By Sr. Perlita Ponge

Our first Holy Week celebration in Pakistan started in Holy Thursday when Sister Maureen Donohoe and I arrived loasa Nagra, a Parkari Kohli village. We were greeted by the village elders and, after drinking a welcome glass of cold water, we went house to house to meet the villagers. The men were busy preparing a meal in huge pots while the women tidied up their homes.

The colorful clothes they wore stood out in sharp contrast to the dusty pants and mud walls of the houses. Outside each house was a mound of dried mud, we were told that grain is stored inside. One woman made a hole in one of then to demonstrate and to make sure we had understood.

As the sun went down, we sat with a group of women and children trying to communicate to us as best as they could through signs, here we had our first language class, picking up words from them and sharing in their delight when we pronounced them correctly.

As darkness fell, everyone gathered at the center on the village for supper. As we sat threw on the path beneath the starry sky and looked around, the feeding of the 5,000 seemed to be happening again as food was passed around and everyone of ate.

Since they didn’t have even a small chapel, the Mass was held in the open air, and young and old prayed together for some time. During the mass., sweets and flowers were offered as gifts and then distributed to everyone at the end. This was something new for us.

After the mass we walked in procession in the moonlight to a house where the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament was to take new for us.

On Good Friday we went to a Punjabi community of workers in one of the sugar mills. Before the service we were asked to pray for a woman in the community who had died. We followed others to the house where we found men praying, and women crying and laminating. We were surprised to find that the woman had already been buried for some time. But then we were told the women don’t attend burials and they continue to grieve together long after the burial.

On Holy Saturday we stayed in the parish. The church was ablaze with colors. A small group came for the services. It was strange to be with just a dew people after having experienced the crowds during Holy Week in Peru and the Philippines.

Easter Sunday was quite a contrast, as many came dressed in every color imaginable. It was really a festive occasion. We were intrigued by the musical instruments and the beauty of the music and singing. Throughout the Mass, small children put rose garlands around Columban Fr, Denis Carter, the celebrant.

During the mass a man waked up to the altar, gave flowers to Fr. Denis and also placed a garland on the statue of our Lady. He noticed us and placed rose petals in our hands. He then threw flowers in the church. We discovered later that he was a Muslim, who had come to greet the people Easter. After the Mass everyone gathered and has a meal together.

This Easter we did indeed “sing a new song in a new culture” as we began a new life in mission. It was challenging surprising and life- giving.

By Rene Tumang

A bare hut. Five hungry children. A simple carpenter for a father. A compulsive gambler for a mother. These were my memories of childhood. I did not know if the pain could be erased.

When I was 9 years old, my father, our sole breadwinner, boarded a bus to Manila from our hometown in Pampanga. He never came back. He met an accident and he died on the spot. Our eldest had to stop studying to work. We found out that we could not count any of our relatives for help and we had to learn to fend for ourselves because they have families of their own. One of my sister got married at the age 14 and she took me to live with her mother-in-law in Dagupan City. She said that I could continue studying high school there. What I did not know was I would also serve as a house boy there.

With all the work I had to do, I never had a chance to have friends. For four years I cleaned the house, tended pigs. Washed clothes, ironed them, and studied. When I go to college, things sometimes got so bad that I did not come home, preferring instead to sleep at a bus station and go straight to school where I had to beg for breakfast from classmates. This wasn’t new to them, this scraggly boy in shabby clothes groveling.

I hate this kind of life. And I vowed that one day, I’d break free of it.

Getting Rich

When I went to Manila to find work, I bumped into a film exchange company where I became a sales representative. From there, I moved from one film outfit to another, I moved up until I became part owner of the production company. AEON Films. I noticed though that the bigger my dream, the bigger the empty space in my heart became.

Sin became my lifestyle. I was living in with a woman I had fallen in love with but was not willing to marry. Our relationship was characterized by frequent fights as she knew that aside from her I had other women. Believe or not, I had a total of 69 girlfriends in a span of 13 years and I was proud of this casanova image. I did not care if my girlfriend was on the verge of suicide. I was too preoccupied with seeking my own pleasure to see the misery I was causing other people. I knew, though, that in the roughest moments, in my live-in partner turned to prayer.

Wanting More

God must have heard her. My Godfather, Danny Cabrera, who is a director started speaking me to God. I was surprised to learn that he had stopped directing bold films and that he only accepted assignments which did not lead him to sin. I was skeptical about this. I thought, “Diyos ka ng Diyos, eh, wala ka namang trabaho.”

For a time, I turned a deaf ear on him, but later on, he was able to convince me to go to confession and to Mass. It could have been a good chance to turn over a new leaf especially since two other friends joined us in our walk with the Lord. But after a while, I lost contact with them as I became more and more immersed in work.

I already had a lot of money, but I wanted more. In my pursuit for more, I earned to ire of many people. I learned not to trust anyone for I saw how quick the people around me saw opportunities to steal me. I became short-tempered and I was beginning to feel frustrated and fed up with life. Was there a way out?

My Child’s Life

On December 23, 1985, my teen-month-old baby was given by the doctor only 24 hours to live. She had a rare disease which he failed to identify but whose mortality rate was high.
“Her life is no longer in our hands, it is in God’s,” he said.

My reply to that was, “Aba pati pala doctor nabobola ng Diyos.” Then I turned my thoughts to the Lord and said, “If You are truly God then you would have known that I should be punished, not my innocent child.”

We kept watch over Zaire all night, her condition was deteriorating. At 4 AM, she was strangely silent, yet tears flowed continuously form wide staring eyes, she looked straight at me and I felt like she was telling me that I had failed her as a father. I had not given the love and attention she needed.

I could not bear the guilt I felt, I rushed to the hospital chapel and for the first time in a long while, I sought the Lord, begging Him to spare my child and take my life instead. It he really was God, he could do that, couldn’t He?

A few hours later, I stepped back into my daughter’s room. Three doctors were checking her. For more than half hour I waited with baited breath for their diagnosis.
“Your daughter will live. This is a miracle!” cried out one of them.

For a few moments, I could not react with joy for I thought, “There is a God! And He took me seriously.”

New Life

When friends started to invite me to attend Life in the Spirit Seminars (LSS) again after this incident, I no longer refused them. I learned about a different kind of God. In the past, I thought He was none who only watched over us to punish our wrong doings. But now, I was getting to know a God who was longing to embrace me, to save me from sin, and to make me His child.
I found myself listening intently to all the talks at the LSS. It was like stepping into cleansing fire which was washing away my weaknesses and sins. I repented sincerely and humbly for hurting my Heavenly Father who loved me more than anything, I was now ready to turn my back completely on my old life. My first step toward this was to marry my live-in partner Beth the mother of my child.

Slowly But Surely

Changing my ways was a difficult painstaking process. God began to mend the broken pieces of my life, especially my relationship with my family, but many temptations still came my way, though I no longer chased after women, I found out that they were the one chasing after me.

After my LSS, my prayer to the Lord to take me away from show business was answered. Though I wanted to minister to my colleagues and draw them with me into a personal relationship with Jesus, I knew I was still weak and I needed a change environment. God answered in a unique way: Our Company went bankrupt, but He provided an alternative source of income. My wife and I went into food business and the Lord has faithfully blessed it abundantly.

You Must Forgive

In 1993, my mother came to me. I hated her because I felt that she was the one who ruined or lives. I was only in the early stages of my renewal and she was the only person I did not want to see. I told my wife to talk to her and to give her anything she wanted but she could never stay with us.

However, sometime early stages in 1994, my wife persuaded me to let my Mom stay with us since no one wanted her anymore. She had gone to her brothers but they would not accept her, she had a stroke and half of her body was paralyzed. If you look at her, she was like a beggar, and she smelled so bad. That was how she presented to me.
But there was only one thought in my mind, “Buti nga sayo. Pagbabayaran mo rin lahat ng ginawa mo sa min.”

I told my wife, “Do what you want with her. And don’t bother me anymore.”

Beth took good care of my mother who was like a kid who needed to be washed up and cleaned. And she even bought new clothes.

For the six months that was with us, I did not want to see her. Until one day, I was invited to lead a prayer meeting by a certain community but I could not start any prayer. I felt there was something wrong in me. so I talked to God, “I know You’re asking me to forgive my mother. But I cannot. But if this really what You want, then give me the grace to forgive for I cannot do it on my own. I also asked the grace to love my mother as her son. Only You can do this for my heart is empty.”

For one month, this was my prayer and my struggle. Sometimes I was tempted to go back to my old ways rather than do what was very difficult for me.
One day at 6 PM, as I was about to attend a prayer meeting at the OASIS of Love, I bumped into my mother, She asked me, “Anak, kamusta kana?”

With a stony face, I just answered, “I’m just fine.”

Then she added, “Anak baka pwede mo na akong patawarin.”

When I heard her asking for forgiveness, I felt the grace to forgive was over me. It was only then that I felt like I had a mother after all. I also felt for thee first time the love of a son for his mother.
My mother passed away on November 3, 1994. I missed her up to now because I feel we did not have enough time together to replace all those lost years. But I thank God for the moments we still had.

Life in the Light

I am amazed that I am now living a life in the light. It‘s really a big miracle because in spite of my sins, I still felt the love of God. It was His hand that lifted me up. How I can I not love Him back?

I now have a new lifestyle, a lifestyle with God. A live each day under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

“There is a God! And He took me seriously.”

Thank you KERYGMA!

By Ariel Presbitero

On morning during one of my house visitations I encountered a very interesting question that went like this: “What is the color of God?” I paused and thought a while wondering where was this coming from? I never heard that God has color. As far as I know, I learned from my childhood catechism that man and woman were created by God according to His own likeness and image. It didn’t say what is the color of God. Does God really have a color? Is He white? Black, Brown, Yellow? Is He a mixture of all these colors?

In Brazil where slavery became a part of the people’s painful history, the disparity between whites and blacks penetrated to their own subconscious. When you see a white man running in the streets, he’s jogging. When you see a black man running, he’s a thief. Why is that the blacks are treated with malice? It is a sin to be black? Why is society like this? These are the questions that need answers by personal convection to uncover the color behind colors. What is really the color of God? Is it important to know the theology behind this? Perhaps it is just mere curiosity for the sake of adding more information who God really is. I personally wouldn’t take this reflection literally but related it to people and events. I think the question is valid and can be viewed in a different perspective.

Diocese of Salvador

When I was first sent to mission, the physical environment mirrored back to me my strengths and weaknesses. In the Diocese (Salvador) where I was assigned , the people were mostly black. About 90% of the three million people living in this city was black. In corners of the streets, plazas, anywhere, there were black people. Would this be my kind of environment while on this mission? I was afraid, I did not know yet why. But I was sure of one thing. This reality showed my personal indifferences towards black people. In mission God did not say, “Go wherever you want.” But He said, “Go and cross boundaries of culture, and belief.” Of course, this implies race too. I grew up in a culture where people believe that whites are beautiful. White people are gentle, delicate and loving people. They are more often seen in television or on print ads as gorgeous faces in malls and parties. On the other hand, the blacks are public taxi drivers, street sweepers, domestic helper or objects of slapstick comedy in theater. Hoe come that this is happening? Does it tell something about my own culture? Does it mean that we give more importance to the whites than blacks? Only then did I realize that the blacks are the same as the whites. They are human beings, with emotions too. They experience pain and joy in their lives. They also have dreams for their life to have decent homes and an identity to call their own.

Though slavery had been abolished in Brazil in 1888, the blacks are still struggling for life because of poverty and discrimination. The hundreds of years of slavery brought inferiority to the blacks and paled them in the lowest place in the society. What Zumbi (a black revolutionary) started 300 years ago in the battle field of northeast Brazil must continue lest thousands of blacks be killed by inhumane and indecent discrimination. People have been created by God according to his own likeness and image. He did not create discrimination nor injustice but man did. What do you think is the color of God?