By Fr. Efren de Guzman, SVD

He came into the room in a bloodshed cassock. I looked up at my brother wondering, seeing fatigue and pain painted all over his face yet hope still filling his eyes.

"Two of the tribal minority groups had a clash today. One of the chiefs was killed and I had to attend to him personally. It wasn’t pretty. But I know that as I served the people, they understood better God’s love,” he said quietly.

It was then that I wanted to be a missionary-priest like my brother.

It started in the Family

Our parents had a lot to do with the development of missionary hearts in us. I remember how often we had beggars with us during lunch. My mother would feed them and talk to them as though they were special guests, I did not know what to make of this at first. I knew our neighbors laughed a little at us and I didn’t like that. But when I told my Mom this, all she said was “Its Jesus we’re serving.”

We grew up seeing our parent’ genuine love for the poor. It was only natural then that my brother, my sister and I learned to have this same kind of love for the poor. One day, when I asked my mother what she wanted me to become when I grew up, she answered simply, “Whether you become a doctor , a lawyer or an engineer, if it is not according to God’s will, you will never be happy. God is your only security.”

Soon after, my brother became a priest. I saw how committed he was to the poor. Then my sister became a nun. She was assigned to the missions in Africa.

They both became an inspiration for me to take the same path.
And the bloodied cassock was the turning point for me.

Angola

I was ordained in Tagaytay on November 11, 1979. I volunteered to got the war-ridden Angola, a country many shunned because of the conditions we knew we would be facing there.
The culture shock I experienced when I got to Angola was severe. But I knew it was not my place to impose my culture on them. I had to learn their language, their traditions, and avoid comparing these to what I was used to. At first, I did not even know how I could be of service to anybody there, I see now that it was His way of teaching me to draw nearer to Him, to depend more on Him. I had to get down on my knees and pray a lot for guidance from the Lord. The Lord did not tarry in answering. He led me to the refugees.

The situation in Angola, as the Africans would say is akin to two big elephants fighting each other. It is the grass that gets crushed, the grass of curse is the old people. The children, the women, the innocent.

Hunger Amidst Riches

Angola is very rich; it ranks second as the biggest producer of oil in Africa and ranks fourth as producer of diamonds worldwide. Yet ironically, its citizen die of sickness and hunger.

First Year Difficult

My first year there was very difficult. I had to eat what they ate, and their food was too spicy or too salty for me. Then I had to contend with the heat and the bid mosquitoes. Twice or thrice a year I had an attack of malaria. Keeping personal hygiene was also difficult because the scarcity of water prevents us from taking daily baths. Then, of course, there were the lepers. The smell they emitted was almost intolerable. And when my fellow missionaries and I discovered them, they were nearly dying of hunger until we did something about it.

The War

Also, there was the war. We had to be very careful to stay away from crossfire and to watch out for landmines. Many missionaries died in ambushes but we always proclaimed to the people, “Who can separate us from the love God?” (Roman 8:31)

We also had to deal with voodoo and witchcraft. Once, a witchdoctor cast spell on us. The following day, many of us were struck with skin allergy. The doctor gave us anti- allergy pills but I told him that we didn’t need medicine for this because this was a spiritual warfare. He wouldn’t believe. I prayed before the tabernacle and fasted for three days. After a week, the sickness that they cursed us with backfired on them.

Life in Angola is really hard. Their is hunger and sickness everywhere. Each day, hundreds of people die. Countless children die because of lack of vitamins and protein. There’s violence. Even a 10-year-old child already learns to carry a gun. These children even take drugs. Then there’s apartheid. Left and right. There are killings everywhere. There’s so much hatred in the hearts of the people.

So many sleepless nights. Sometimes, you can’t help but think, “Bakit ba ako nagpapaloko dito?” but once again, you stand.. for the sake of the Kingdom. To learn to love- to risk being hurt, being betrayed, being disillusioned. And until now, I am learning to really love the unlovable especially those who are the very cause of injustice.

Mourning Into Dance

The Africans love to sing. This is one thing they taught us;. When your spirits are down and the pangs of homesickness seem to be unbearable, sing out your blues. The Africans express themselves through song form birth to marriage to death. It is there that I see morning turned into dancing. When someone dies, they jump and dance a if rejoicing. So when the blues get to me, I would pick up my guitar and sing songs of praise to God. I compose songs of joy, hope and love.

Illness

Then it happened. I was stricken with cerebral malaria. This is a life threatening kind of malaria because it affects the brain, the liver, the pancreas. It has a lot of side effects. It’s like you’re treating someone with drugs. I would throw up whatever food I took in. Everything seemed so dry that even my hope waned. I cried out to God to take me. Death would have been such a sweet relief.

I needed proper treatment and medication, something I could not get in Angola. I had to be sent home to the Philippines. Before I left, I asked the orphans I was taking of what they wanted me to bring them when I returned. They told me they wanted was for me to return to them. The lepers too, had one request that I eat well so I can come back strong and healthy. They were worried because I had become so thin.

Back in the Philippines, I develop a tumor in the throat. For about a year, I had no voice. The doctor told me that if it continued to grow, I would slowly choke and I would no longer be able for the missions.

A while after, I felt that the Holy Spirit was leading me back to Angola.

Back in Angola

My life now is deeply-rooted in the missionfield. I still get hurt.

And I still fall. Anger a sometimes overcomes me and the temptations of the flesh always hover around me. The evil spirits are there like a roaring spiritual warfare. Through fasting and prayer, I battle against this unseen enemy. So I always try to be watchful and prudent all times. That is why it is important for me to have a check and balance in my life – to be accountable and transparent to the people I serve, I have to be totally dependent on the Holy Spirit. For to be a real missionary is to live a simple life. You only have to bring the essentials- the Word of God and your witnessing.

In Africa, it is important that you are armed not only with theology. I am not a medicine man but everyday I give comfort to the sick and dying. I am not educated in agriculture but I have to bend to till the soil. I don’t know how to handle a school but I teach children and old alike, I am not a diplomat but we have to face generals and government officials. That’s the miracle of the Lord. I am able to do something which I could never have imagined I could do. I am like a jack-all-trades-master-of-none but I am able to accomplish things through the grace of God.
Life is short. Like the breeze of the wind, it comes and it goes. So why not give it to God.

Life is short. Like the breeze of the wind, it comes and it goes. So why not give it to God? By His grace, everything is possible. Just give Him your best.

By Fr. Niall O’ Brien

To the Memory of A Very Special Friend

Sometime ago our little group held a Mass for Titay Hagad. As I prepared for the Mass I suddenly realized that not only were we holding a Mass for Titay but in fact our group would never have existed if not for her. A couple of years ago just after Johnny retired from being Ombudsman Titay came to me and said, I love MISYON. I think it’s great. I‘d like to promote it. [I am not making this up!] It was an editor’s dream. Anyway so was born our little MISYON Promoter’s group here in Bacolod, Negros Occidental.

Of course, I had known Titay for years, first I was introduced to her by Fr. Eamonn Gill who had known her since his golfing day as Chaplain in Ma-ao Central. But more than that I got to know her through the Samaria movement. That was a mass movement. That was a mass movement of evangelization. It was a sort of counterpart for the Cursillo but it had developed its own flavor. Titay Hagad, Baby Gonzales, Baby Hofileña, Carmelita Yulo, Georgina Tupas, Meding Ramos. Charing Gaston and the whole host of very responsible women almost abandoned their families to help us. [Actually it was we who helped them to run the Samaria because they did most work] I look back now and know that I was a fined moment in the story of the Negros Church. Titay and Company would come down to Kabankalan or Binalbagan or to off to Cebu or other islands to lead this four day, three nights retreat. The Samaria had a marvelous effect in restoring happiness to families and introducing people to the person of Jesus and to the Church. The physical conditions in those days in the Kabankalan and Binalbagan Samaria Houses were very austere: wooden plates, primitive toilets, mosquito galore, unpredictable lights, and bring your own water if your were wise. Titay and Company would often ends up cleaning the toilets if necessary.

As Chaplain I can say without fear of contradiction from the men that these women were way a head in organization. Reality and general tidiness of mind, also in guts when necessary.

On one occasion one of the visiting priests who was giving the Rollo on the Sacraments (a four hour Rollo in Samaria) strayed from the topic during the first half of the Rollo. Not only he go on to one of his pet hobby horse but he even criticized the very women who were running Samaria itself- the women who had invited him that was a bit rich considering that he was there as their guest and had come freely. I have to confess that I did not have the heart to confront him as her was (and is) a good friend. During the break, Titay walked up to him to invite him for a snack and added while looking him unflinching in the eye, “You were very far off our agreed topic, Father. Also we feel it’s unfair to criticize us when we cannot answer back.” After the break he returned like a lamb to the original topic and I breathed a sigh of relief. I’ve never for how Titay did it. That was her gift – being gentle but being firm. Disagreeing with you but remaining your friend, that’s something we need more of. In Philippine culture sometimes a friends is someone who tells you you are right. That wasn’t Titay’s way. We need more friends like Titay.

When I left for my vacation in Europe Titays still looked well. She did not show her deteriorating health. She died just a few days before I arrived back. However I managed to arrive in time for a night with the Hagad family near the end to the novena, I admired the sense of peace among all the children and how proud they were of their mother and I thought to myself, “It won’t be an easy act for them to follow.

At a special mass the next day sponsored by the Christian Family Life (CFL) Lyn Arguelles (Another MISYON promoter) made us laugh with her stories about Titay. She said:

We teamed up (with Titay and Johnny) many times not only in Bacolod but we introduced the Marriage Encounter to Iloilo, Tacloban. Tagbilaran, Cebu, Iligan, Cagayan de Oro and many other places. Those were happy and unforgettable years. Our close association with Johnny and Titay opened our eyes to their many admirable qualities. We were their number one admirers. To me Titay was an ideal wife, always supportive of Johnny. How I wished I could be like her! I remember Baging would always point out to me how Titay would look so lovingly at Johnny during Marriage Encounter talks when it was Johnny’s time to speak. “Look at the way Titay looks at Johnny – that’s kind of look I want you to give me when I speak. The problem is you look at me so nervously and fearfully that I forger what I am about to say,” Baging would say.

One time visiting Titay I threw out the remark that I love her ramshackle house, then I wondered if my Irish attempt at a complement had misfired. And I look anxiously to see if she had taken the remark amiss. What I meant, of course, in my own clumsy, was that it was obvious that in those years when everyone else was refurbishing their houses she and Johnny had opted for spending it all of the Children’s education. As a result the house was more or less the same as when Fr. Gill had first introduced me to her in the early sixties. Anyway Titay didn’t even notice the remark.

The Paradox for a Christian is to live in the world with joy and gratitude and appreciation and yet I know it is passing. Titay decided to live everyday quietly, leaving her health in God’s hands and to go on working for others right to the end. She was such a beautiful example of this acceptance and hope that it gave great help to those of us of little faith (like myself). But I think Lyn Arguellles has made an even deeper theological point when she said:

‘What made Titay such a remarkable person? So talented yet so humble, so kind and generous to a fault. So loving to everyone that she wants you to always feel good about yourself. I think her secret was that Titay herself felt that she was special and loved not only by Johnny, her children, relatives and friends. She felt she was God’s favorite and beloved child. She had experienced so much of Gods special love in her life and this gave her the capacity to give it to everyone around her.’

That is the heart of the goodnews: to know we are loved by Him. Titay Lived that.

PS. I hope there will be many other promoters of MISYON to take the place of Titay.

Vincent Ratnam, an Indian from Fiji tells about his journey to being a missionary priest. Part of his time involved a stay in the Philippines. The interview was conducted by Fr. Francisco Hoare.

An Interview with Vincent Ratman

Francisco: Where and when were you born?

Vincent: I was born on 31st March, 1966 in Lautoka Fiji islands. I have five brothers and two sisters. As the youngest in the family my parents, especially my dad, had emphasized hard work and being well off because we had experienced poverty. Dad work for an Australian company as a stone crusher operator and Mum used to supplement the family income by doing house work for neighbors.

Francisco: Were you more educated than the others in family?

Vincent: Yes. I studied to form six at St. Thomas High School in Lautoka. Some of the others went as far as form five but my eldest brothers didn’t to school at all. He started working when he was eleven years old to help support the family at a time when we were experiencing financial problems. So I was fortunate to receive the education I got.

Francisco: what place had religion in your family?

Vincent: My grandmother got us to say the rosary when she visited and my mum continued that. Whenever we missed night prayers or the rosary Mum would get angry and say, “You are lazy people. You only want to go out and play.” She kept our faith and hope strong where as Dad who was a Hindu till his marriage was pessimistic about life. But he changed through my Mum’s faith and devotion, and through seeing how well my brothers and sister got on.

Francisco: How did you think of becoming a missionary priest?

Vincent: I was invited then to do a lay- leadership course. Though hesitant because I felt that I didn’t know anything I decided to take the opportunity. The course really stimulated me to learn more about the Church, sacraments and Scripture. It was a big step in deepening my faith.

During the lay-leadership course one of the Columban seminarians told me about his experience at the seminary. I was interested and found jot how to apply. The Columban vocation director welcomed me warmly and I visited him monthly to discuss the missionary life and my vocation. He gave me Columban magazine to read and the stories fascinated me. I become convinced that I wanted to be a missionary, even though I didn’t fully know at that time the challenges of the missionary life. I decided that I wanted to be a Columban priest because Columbans had devoted themselves to deepening the faith of Indian Catholics. They had often visited and prayed in my home, so my response was that if I wanted to be a missionary I would be a Columban.

Francisco: What did you find difficult about seminary life?

Vincent: we were only three Indian students at the seminary at that time but there were many Pacific Islanders, with very different cultures and languages. I found then hard to relate with at first.

 To me they seemed demanding, aggressive and distracting but later I got used to them and discovered that their culture teaches them a different way of relating from mine.

As I understood them better I made some good friends form Vanuatu, Tonga, and Samoa. That help me to look at the world outside, my outlook on life has broadened. I’m not confined to only one way of thinking.

Francisco: You went to the Philippines for spiritual year in 1991. How was that?

Vincent: Spiritual year was a memorable year, a year I treasure because I learned a lot about myself. And it helped me to be more open to God’s call.

Francisco: What did you learn about the work of the Columbans there?

Vincent: On my arrival in the Philippines I met Fr. Brian Gore whose Imprisonment for standing up for the poor I had read about. I felt that I was meeting a Columban hero. When I shook hands with him I realized that being Columban means that we are for the people and not the people for us.

Francisco: Vincent how have you found the Columban formation community in Suva?

Vincent :I like the spirit of sharing there. We joke together and share experiences and the challenges that we face. We search for the meaning of Columban vocation together and we help one another. I also like the strong sense of mission among us we are always aware hat we are training to be missionary priests who will work overseas. So try to have an open attitude and to be more giving by sharing my life with other people.

Francisco: What are your hopes for Fiji Indian Catholics?

Vincent: I would like to see Fiji Indian Catholics become more active in church participation.  I hope for a greater awareness that the Good News should not only be proclaimed within the community but outside it also.

I would especially like to see Catholic Indians promoting Vocations to the religious and missionary life. I feel that this is lacking at present. Although they are proud a Fiji Indian becoming a missionary they are very hesitant to encouraged their own relatives to do so, I hope that this will change in time.

By Fr. Eugene Cañete, CICM

Zambian Youth

A few weeks after my arrival, I was invited by a young Zambian, the youth leader of Chibote Catholic Church, to join other youth leaders in their home visitation.

Strange Remark

Along the way I was told that I had to greet everyone I was going to meet in the houses. We arrived in one house and, indeed, I managed to greet them although in a strange accent. When I was seated properly in that house, I say from a distance a little boy on his mother’s lap. His eyes were fixed on me. He stated at me carefully and suddenly in a loud voice uttered candidly, “ulemoneka umweni””. At once everybody burst into laughter, I look at the person next to me and asked him why the laughter. Trying to find the exact words in English, he thought deeply then said: BaBrother, he was saying you look strange.” I was a little pensive about this and tried to ponder on what these words could mean. “You look Strange”, I was not yet satisfied, I felt that there was something more to what this little boy was saying.

Share Their Stories

On my way after the home visit I was telling myself that “if I continue to look strange before people, then I’d better remove all the barriers that keep me t a distance from people and that prevent then form feeling at ease with me. of course I was exaggerating, and yet, I was also challenging myself. I realized that if I did not want to look strange to the people, then I should do something, I should be integrating with them more often. I was now making a promise to myself. It’s time that I should be with people mote often, go with them, listen to their stories and later in share with the on share with them the stories of Life.

Trying Hard

In fact I have begun. Every Thursday and Saturday afternoons, I have learned how to grounds and street corners, with the mishanga (cigarette boys) and the fisali (sugarcane) vendors. Thus if I still look strange before the people, then it has something to do with my physical differences and cultural background.

Entering Their Life

“Physical differences and cultural background” – this reminds me of our Constitution Commentary. One statement reads that “the missionary is always a foreigner in the country to which he is sent” As a missionary to an “intercultural mission” now I am convinced that I well really look strange because of physical and cultural differences, influences from my family, my country and culture, these I can never hide. Yet they should not prevent not hinder me from entering into” a real integration into the life of the people to whom I have been sent”.

A Second Look

While I was writing this article, I tried to look back to that experience a few weeks after my arrival. I could still picture clearly the little boy with staring eyes coming up to me. Thanks to him, I am now able to look again with new eyes at myself as a CICM intern and the missionary life to which I am called. And thanks to him too I am able to reflect what all these mean id this concrete Zambian milieu.

Partners

Here in Zambia, particularly in Chibote and Chibuluma missions, missionary challenges abound. This then is my a HOPE, that the people and I will gradually feel at home with each other so that by responding to these challenges we become partners in the mission of Christ. No longer strangers, but partners in the building of small Christian communities and in transforming this world into His Kingdom of Joy, justice, and peace!

“Human life has no colour. It has no country of origin and it has no ideology. It is just life.” (Dr. Paul Lusaka)

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Somo wrestler

During one of my home leave vacations, Fr. Jake Ferrer, SVD of Pangasinan also came for his vacation from Japan to Christ the King Seminary, Manila. Looking almost like a Somo wrestler, an official at the customs counter in the airport said, “Aba, itong Hapon, marunong magtagalog.”

“JoJo Manlapaz”

At Tagaytay City, Sr. Evelyn, SSPS, a former missionary to Ghana, invited an SVD ex-seminarian Jojo Manlapaz as speaker for their workers’ recollection at the Holy Spirit Retreat Center. She told the Portress (an older Sister) that as soon as Jojo comes, she should let him in immediately for the retreatnants had been waiting.

On the same day I went to visit Sr. Evelyn. As soon as I told the Portress, “I am Father Joe”, she ushered me at once into conference room “Sister,” she called aloud, “Jojo is here!” with all the retreatants standing to welcome me, I could not hide my surprise and innocence. Unable to refuse Sr. Evelyn’s request, who was by now laughing more than anyone else with no one suspecting what is going on, I gave them a laughing session on the spot. The retreatants too did not know Jojo Manlapaz but it was their turn to laugh when the real Jojo Manlapaz appeared.

Bishop Rolando Tirona

I attended the Silver Jubilee of Sr. Lourdes Pilapil, RVM in Santo Domingo, Quezon City. The main celebrant was Bishop Rolando Tirona who disclosed that it was his first Silver Jubilee occasion since he was made Bishop. When he was about to give his homily, he said, “My principle is: short homily moves the heart; long homily that almost moved both heart and the chair.

I must have changed!

“When did you arrive?” a certain visitor, named Jayson, at Christ the King Seminary asked me, “I arrived in February,” I answered. “Only February!” he exclaimed. “And you are already very good in Tagalog. Which part of Indonesia are you from?” You should have seen his apologetic face when I told him I come from Kalinga in Northern Philippines.

Identity Crisis

Seated at my right was Fr. Agripino de la Cruz, SVD. One by one he was introducing the nationality of some SVD priests invited for the Silver Jubilee of RVM Sisters in Santo Domingo. Then one RVM Sister, pointing to me, interjected, “How about him, is he also a Filipino.

What’ll they think?

At the side of the entrance to the Italian Embassy in Manila is a beauty parlor with a veranda wide enough to sit while waiting. With me was Sr. Sonia Go, a member of Benedictine Sisters of Divine Love, assigned in Rome. She was narrating all her inconveniences at he embassy. She become so emotional that she said, “I want to cry,” “Not here Sister,” I pleaded. They might think I am courting you.” That was enough to lighten her burden.

By Totet Banaynal, SJ

It was October 17, 1996. The Jesuits in their theological formation had just arrived form a three-day rest in a beach in Tali, Batangas. Refreshed, everyone was in high spirits as they took their lunch in the refectory of the Loyola House of Studies in the Ateneo de Manila University.

Suddenly the house went black. News came that Richie Fernando, a young Filipino Jesuit missionary in Cambodia was dead. At 9:30 that morning, Richie tried to stop a troubled student in the Technical School for the Handicapped from throwing a hand grenade at a class of other handicapped students most already injured by landmines. Her ordered the other to run away and tried to restrain the young man. However, the grenade fell behind Riche and the powerful explosion inside the school building hit Richie in the base of the skull, the upper and lower back and his legs. As he was hit, he flew into the air and dropped on his back but in the process fully shielded the man who wielded the grenade from being hit. Two other handicapped students also suffered from minor injuries but the rest of the students were safe. In a second, Richie was lying dead on a pool of blood gushing out from his back. It was his last act of love for his students and friends in this foreign land.

For two weeks after that. Newspapers in Manila acknowledge Richie’s offering of life:

“Young Jesuits Scholastic Gives Up Life For Others”
(Philippine Inquirer)“A Hero’s Death” (Business World)
“Slain Filipino Missionary Honored” (Philippines Star)
“Filipino Dies in Cambodia Saving Others From Blast” (Manila Times)“Young Man-for-Others” (Philippines Star)
“Pinoy in Cambodia: Jesuits Dies Saving Lives”
(From the Page, Philippine Inquirer)
“Richie Fernando, SJ, Martyr” (Malaya)
“President Fidel V. Ramos lauds Filipino Missionary
(Philippines Inquirer)

Richie Fernando was only 26 years old when he died. He was a graduate of Development Studies in the Ateneo de Manila University. Right after college, he joined the Society of Jesus. On the first night they met in a conference, his novice master, Fr. Jose Blanco, SJ asked him, “You are only twenty years old, why are you in a hurry for the priesthood?” Richie replied, “I am not in a hurry; I think the Lord is in a hurry with me.”

In May 1995, after finishing his philosophical studies at the Ateneo de Manila University, Richie was sent to Phnom Penh, Cambodia for his Regency. For Jesuits, Regency is that stage of formation after Philosophical studied wherein one is missioned to join a community of Jesuits and their apostolic works for one or two years.

The first thing that Richie did when he arrived in Cambodia was to study the Khmer language for three months. He learned how to read and speak very easily as he played with sentences and word and spoke the language without fear of making mistakes. But such love and zeal for the language endeared him to the Cambodians. After doing his language studies, Richie worked actively in the Technical School for the Handicapped, 25 kilometers away from Phnom Pehn.

A Troubled Past

All the students in this school here are either polio or landmine victims. The landmine victims number more than the polio victoms. This is because Cambodia is one of the heaviest mined areas in the world. Landmines are small mines buried in the ground which explode when someone or something trips on then or when a small amount of pressure is exerted on them. Most of the landmines in Cambodia do not have self-detonating mechanism and are estimated to remain active for decades where they are laid. The estimates of landmines present in Cambodia’s mined provinces amount to about 10 million. Considering the lack of funds and lack of technology to remove the mines, it may still take a hundred years or so before the mined fields can be safe again.

But this is not all there is to the experience of these students. They had been through the horrors of the time when bombs almost equal to the whole number of bombs dropped during the world War II were drooped in there country just before 1975. Then there was the horror of the Pol Pot Regime from 1975 to 78 where they witnessed members of their family being tortured and killed. Communities dispersed and city centers emptied. Recent estimated say that about 2 million Cambodian’s died or were killed during that time. From 1979, the whole country was subjected to Vietnamese rule and heavy fighting. Their was mass evacuation and many Cambodians fled out of their country landing in refugee centers in the Thai-Cambodia Border, Philippines, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Malaysia and others. at present, most of the Cambodians are still struggling to gather and rebuild their lives again.

Richie, A Big Brother

That is the background of Richie’s students who are mostly farmers or former soldiers. They come to school to study one year basic skill in carpentry, sculpture, welding, electronics, machine repair and agriculture so they can be self-reliant when they go back to their villages. All their needs from food, health care, housing needs, family problems study materials are taken care of by the school and they would go to Richie for these needs.

Richie was very dear to them, he was their big brother. Early in the morning and late in the afternoon, he would go to visit them in their cottages to see to it their needs and to be a friendly presence who was ready to settle differences, give advice and provide a listening ear to their problems.

Richie was one of them. He delighted in having to join the students in their meals. He ate whatever is served to him. He ate snake, frog, gecko and any kind of vegetables with them. At times he would also cook for them and teach them how to cook his favorite Filipino dishes: adobo, mechado and crispy pata. He also loved playing volleyball and basketball with them. In the afternoon, he would be there in the basketball court he had made for the handicapped, playing with students who dribbled the ball while they mover a about in wheelchairs.

On the day he died, Sr. Denise Coghlan, Richie’s team leader write: “Richie had an extraordinary heart for the disabled.”.” his most recent work at the Center of the Dove (where the Technical school is located) had been welcoming new women and m en for their preparatory literacy and numeracy training, and preparing for a wonderful festival for 300 graduates from the fives years at the Center. This fiesta scheduled for November 1.”

Dying For Friends

Four days before he died, he wrote and eleven page letter to his close friend in the Philippines, pouring his heart out:

I know where my heart is... it is with Jesus Christ, Jesus who gave his all for the poor, the sick, the orphan... I am confident and inspired, though I feel tired physically, mentally and emotionally at times. I am confident that God never forgets His people: our disabled brothers and sisters. And I am glad that god had been using me to make sure t hat our brothers and sisters know this fact. I am convinced that this is my vocation/mission.

I honestly believe that to die for our friends her will be greatest gift that God can give us. And I continually pray for that grace everyday.

When Jesuits at Loyola House knew of the real story behind Richie’s death and the nobleness of his offering, the gloom which had filled the house slowly changed into a quite grace of joy giving us all the inspiration and the courage to continue the mission God has given to us.

Richie’s retreat Diary January 3, 1996.

“I wish, when I die people remember Not how great, powerful, or talented I was But that I served and spoke for the truth, I gave witness to what is right, I was sincere with all my works and actions, in other words I loved and I followed Christ. Amen

“Before Richie’s Death, he planned to write an article for MISYON which received regularly in Cambodia.”

By David Morrison

As a Catholic and as a homosexuality oriented man. I am deeply grateful to the Roman Catholic Church for its position on sexuality and homosexual acts. Roman Catholicism, almost alone among Christendom’s Churches, refuses to either patronize homosexual with a watered down gospel or brutalize them with a message of irredeemable hostility.

The Roman Catholic Church loves me and all the men and women like me who lice as homosexuals, looks at us the adults we are, and says that too, can resolutely cooperate with the Holy Spirit to sanctify our lives. We are called to sainthood and the narrow road that brings us there.

I did not recognize the value of this teaching easily. From the age of 21 to 28 I lived as a gay activist, accepting and preaching the message the gay community offers today: active homosexuality. As long as it was practiced safely and in commitment, was no worse than heterosexual activity under the same guide lines. Scriptural or other teachings which argued other wise were simply-out-of-date and were probably authored by homophobes.

I speedily went about accumulating the things that made up a successful gay life. I look a lover for a long-term relationships, got on the fast track at work and vacations at gay resorts. My friends were gay, my relationship was gay, my workplace was gay friendly and my life seemed filled with tough and pleasure.

But I was not happy. My heart tossed restlessly, as St. Augustine’s had also, and every new pleasure brought only sharper pangs. After having some much of what the gay world took for granted, it wasn’t enough and in the early spring of my twenty-eight year I turned my life over to Jesus Christ and began to explore what raking up my cross meant.
That exploration led me gradually, and with many fits and starts, to the Roman Catholic faith where I have lived, gratefully ever, since. The church’s teaching on homosexual orientation and chastity have been to great liberations on my journey. The uniqueness of Catholic teaching on homosexual orientation stems mainly from its lack of determinism.

Men and women with homosexual orientation are neither automatically candidates for praise (on the grounds of their being oppresses) or damnation (on account of inherent sinfulness). Just like everyone else, they can choose either good or evil. This is a position filled with respect because of recognizers us a being children of God and not mere beasts subject to instinct alone.

The church’s corollary position that homosexuals are called to chastity, also contributes to this teaching’s unique expression of grace because of what it teaches about love. Contemporary culture is filled with counterfeits to love. We say we “love” food, “love” or pets. “love” the outdoors, “love” our parents and children and “love” our spouses. But some much of the time we don not love then as much what they can do for use. We love food for its taste, pets for their companionship. The outdoors for its beauty and we often bind up or love for parents, children and spouses with conditions and tinge it with self-interest.

THIS HAS played out most strongly in my experience of life before committing to chastity and life afterwards. When I was homosexually active with my partner we would sometime call our acts “making love”, but it was not some love as utility. Each made the other, with their consent, a means to and end. But that is not love. And it contrasts sharply with my experience after committing myself to chastity.

To the surprise of almost everyone, and in defiance of all attempts to label us, our relationships has continued after our ceasing sexual activity. We found that our emotional commitment suffers most when sex becomes part of a friendship. Chaste love can be difficult at times, but then so ca all living in truth.

I give thanks to God that the Catholic Church understands this well enough to teach, and to have supported and organization in the United States called Courage, which exists to help homosexuals live out this teaching. Over the course of my two years in Courage I have mode more, and deeper friendships than I ever did during all the time I was actively gay and I an convinced that such a witness will help our surrounding culture come to a deeper understanding of the true nature of love.

Through a mysterious but providential set of circumstances, the Columban Fathers began with Father Edward Galvin. Before going to the seminary in Ireland he seriously considered becoming a missionary but in deference to his parents’ misgivings about missionary life, he entered the Maynooth seminary where young men were trained for their home dioceses. In 1909, on the day he was ordained, his bishop, having no opening for him in the diocese, advised him to go to America and return to home in three years. Fr. Galvin went to New York and became an assistant in Holy Rosary Parish in Brooklyn, New York. It was there he met Fr. John M. Fraser, Canadian missionary, who was the returning to China.

Fr. Galvin told Fr. Fraser that he had long been haunted by a desire to be a missionary and that he had read every book in the Brooklyn public library that had anything to do with China. Although Fr. Fraser discouraged Fr. Galvin’s enthusiasm for China, he finally said, “If you want to go with me, you’ll have to hurry. You’ll need permission from your bishop.”

Fr. Galvin wrote immediately to his bishop and within a few weeks received permission. On February 25, 1912, he was on his way to China. In those days, the Catholics of the English-speaking world played a minor part in the foreign mission work of the Church. Of America’s 17,000 priests, less than 50 were in the field as missionaries.

In China Father Galvin was shocked at the poverty and wretchedness he found. He was even more appalled by the spiritual poverty. Here were millions of friendly and industrious people who, because of the lack of missionaries, knew nothing of Christ. But what could one priest do on his own? More missionaries were the answer but who would recruit them?

Father Galvin bombarded his friends with letters seeking help and in 1916 two priests joined him. Father Patrick O’ Reilly and Joseph O’ Leary- They soon realized that if they were to have any lasting effect, they needed to set up some kind of an organization. The two new arrivals urged Father Galvin to go home and organize a new Mission Society. He hesitated. A novena of masses was suggested.

“When the novena was completed, “Bishop Galvin later wrote, “ we knelt down in my room facing each other. I cut the leaves of our Bible and on the top of the right-hand page read the following verse: “I command you: be firm and steadfast. “ Do not fear nor be dismayed for the Lord your Go is with you wherever you go.” – (Jos. 1,9)

Father Galvin broke the tense silence saying, “ I have my orders, I’ll go.”

In June of 1916, he returned to the United States. From San Fernando to Brooklyn, he visited priest friends and bishops. He shared his plans with them. He got encouragement from them. In August, he sailed to Ireland – to Maynooth, where he got his first recruits. An able young professor, Father John Blowick, joined him to help establish a mission to China. By October, the new society numbered eight priests.

With the blessing of Pope Benedict XV, Father Galvin and Blowick spent 1917 planning and laying foundations. On June 29, 1918, the Society of St. Columban was formally approved. The first Columban seminary was opened in Ireland. A few months later the American headquarters was established in St. Columban’s, Nebraskas. In a few years a seminary was opened there too.

From 1912 to 1950, China was in constant chaos. In the 20’s, the Nationalist Chinese Army fought the Communists. War lords, many of them vicious brigands, fought anyone who got in their way. Add to this the free-lance bandits who fought for no cause excepting their own, often seeking trouble for its own sake. They held individuals ransom and would loot a city unless it paid to be left alone. In the midst of all this chaos, Father Galvin was consecrated Bishop of Hanyang in 1927.

When bandits attacked Columban priests in remote mission stations, they made such serious threats and demands that sooner or later something tragic was bound to happen. On July 15, 1929, Red Army bandits captured Fr. Timothy Leonard. After a few days as a prisoner, he was murdered by them. Other Columbans were taken captive and released, but one. Fr. Cornelius Tiemey, died after three months in harsh captivity.

In the fall of 1932, Chiang Kai-sheks’s troops began attacking th Reds with a vigor never seen before. The Communist fell back on all fronts and once more people could move about with relative safely. “the reign of terror,” wrote one Columban, “far from weakening the appeal of the Catholic Church in this area, seems to have strengthened it.” It was an extra ordinary time as thousands expressed a sincere desire to enter the Church.

In 1933 the Holy See conferred a new territory to Columbans and Columban Father Patrick Cleary was appointed in charge of the Vicariate of Nancheng, south of Hanyang.

In the following year, the relative peace that began the year before shattered by the disastrous flood of the Yangtze river that left thusands homeless. Columban priests and Sisters exhausted themselves in caring for sick and dying refugees.

On the night of july 7, 1937, China’s war with Japan, that would in time become a part of Second World War, began. Columban priests and Sisters were called on to care for thousands of wounded Chinese soldiers as well as countless refugees, often dying of cholera.

Of frequently recurring disasters Bishop Galvin said, “Calamities are forerunners of waves of grace.” He recalled that when the Columbans arrived in 1920, there had been 17,000 Catholics in Hanyang Vicariate and in 1932 there were 55,000.

World War II followed in 1940 and a new era of turmoil and destruction began. Cities and town were bombed and reduced to rubble. American and Australian Columbans, regarded as enemy aliens, were repatriated to their home countries in exchange of Japanese civilians. Those who remained were restricted in their movements.

The war had hardly ended when it became clear that the Communist under Mao Tse Tung would soon defeat the Nationalist under Chiang Kai-shek. In 1946 the Holy See entrusted a new mission, known as Huchow, to the Columban Fathers. Three years later the Communist took over this area and before long they were in control for all of China. Several Columbans were thrown into jail and eventually all the Columban priests and Siters were expelled. Bishop Galvin and Bishop Cleary were expelled in 1952. By 1954 everyoone of the 146 Columban serving China were “expelled forever.”

On September 19, 1952, a weary, haggard man stumbled across the Red China border into Hong Kong. Forty years of heroic missionary service had ended – Bishop Galvin was even branded a “criminal.” Three and half years later death came quietly for this great missionary.

In spite of the nightmare of banditry, war, bombing, destruction, death, disease, flood, famine and suffering, the China venture, begun by Bishop Galvin was one of the most heroic and successful mission apostolates In modern times.

When the Columban Fathers celebrated their golden jubilee in 1968, someone asked Fr. Blowick if they had foreseen the catastrophe in China, would they have stopped in their tracks? Then 81, he considered this for a few moments, “probably not. The harvest that was garnered was immense. The good seed in the ground for a econ spring.”

That good seed no only remained in China but it put down deep roots and bore splendid fruit during the years of cruel persecution of every Chinese Catholic – bishops, priests, Sisters and laity without exception. An account of Chinese Catholic’s fidelity and heroism reads like that of Christians who suffered and died during the persecutions of the early centuries of the Church.

Today the church in China is experiencing a second spring in spite of restrictive and controlling efforts of the Communist government…
We Columbans continue to long for and are preparing for the day when the doors of Bsihop Galvin’s beloved China will once again be opened to the whole world.

By Sr. Rosalinda Gonzales

A letter brought bad news

Anthony is dead. The new from my aunt gave me a shock. Could it be true? He was 19 years old, a third year seminarian at the major seminary.

Trip Home

Two years ago, I went home to the Philippines for Papa’s first death anniversary. There I met Anthony at my aunt’s house.
Anthony had graduated from the minor seminary ad was waiting to be called to the major seminary. My aunt’s wanted me to meet him since I am a religious Sister. He is the eldest son of my first cousin Maribel. He has two other brothers and a sister. Maribel is a teacher married to a soldier.

Simplicity

When I saw Anthony, I was impressed by his simplicity and natural kindness. He was 17 years old, quite tall and with good physical looks. I asked Anthony in the course of our interesting conversation if he would like to become a missionary priest someday? He was open to that possibility if that was where Our Lord would lead him.

Correspondence

Soon after, I returned to Tanzania, Anthony and I started corresponding with each other. His first letter was joyful. He was accepted to the major seminary in Sipi, Daraga, Albay. He apologized for not enrolling for a diploma course in a university which would allow him ‘a time apart’ to ponder things over. He had derided (lest he lode his vocation) to go straight away to the major seminary.

Misyon Magazine

The missionary group to whom he had written to, affirmed his decision. Anthony could think it over and if he still wanted to be a missionary priest after he had completed his studies in the major seminary then he could. I requested Fr. Des Quinn to send Anthony some MISYON magazines (which he did) give to him, an idea of my own missionary life here in Tanzania and other missionaries in the different parts of the world.

Happy in Seminary

He found his formation very much focus to a deep and disciplined spiritual life and there was a balance of play –study-eat-rest and pray. He loved the seminary. He would mot imagine himself anywhere else. It was his second home. He was full of gratitude to all his professors, directors and classmates. During vacation which he considered as part of his formation, he looks forward to being with his family, and friends. He did some apostolate in the meantime so that ‘my vocation’ he said. He was greatly devoted to our Blessed Mother and always prayed for peace and justice in our world.

Death Take Him Away

He was not aware of his own holiness. He became an inspiration to me. One of his great challenges was, ‘If anyone wants to follow me, let him deny himself. Tale up his cross and follow ME’. He asked me to explain this test to him, I tried. Now he understands what it meant. He lived it.
During his short illness from which he never recovered, many priests and friends offered daily masses for him. The well attended funeral mass was a manifestation of a life well live, short ad it was, but a simple step towards the greater glory of God.

By Sr. Alma Quisto, OSSR

Like Yesterday

Almost three years have gone since my passage from the Philippines to Venezuela. Yet, everything that transpired during those first few months of my stay here seemed only as if it happened yesterday.

Being a new comer, I was welcomed at our Provincial house in Caracas where I remained for eight months. Living there was great indeed inspite of the many times that I got homesick and the Spanish language was difficult for me.

La China

The majority of the Venezuelan people are not familiar with Filipinos and for this a number of them would often call me “La China”. It annoyed me at first but later on, I found out that this is how they fondly call all Asians.

Change to Maracaibo

Life in Maracaibo is quite different form that of Caracas. Here I have to cooperate with the sisters in carrying out our difficult mission. Ever since I was told of this assignment, fears and doubts started to invade me. It was hard to imagine myself working directly with the girls who are engaged in prostitution. A lot of silly thoughts occurred in my mind too like, “What if I’ll get sick? Or what will I say to them?” thank God I was able to overcome my fears.

Meeting The Prostitutions

he first I went alone to the ‘sanity center’ where the girls have their monthly check-up, was really unforgettable. They had already finished taking their blood tests and were waiting for the gynecologist when I arrived. As customary. We try to take advantage of this opportunity to converse with them but at that moment I didn’t know how to start. Finally, one girl took notice of me and asked if I had come also for check-up (we don’t use the habit anymore). Her question brought a sudden blush to my face but I immediately dissimulated it with a big smile while shaking my head. It was then that I was able to have the guts to introduce myself. What a pleasure indeed upon seeing them all ears to my broken Spanish. But I was filled with much surprise when they told me that many of their clients are Filipino seamen. In fact, they have spokes some words in Tagalog like: “Mahal, magkano and bayad mo”?

Hey, Nurse, She’s a Sister

Hardly did we finish our conversation when a nurse came to distribute something to the girls, and kept telling them one by one to use it as prevention from all kinds of venereal disease. As she reached towards. As she reached towards my direction, she also gave me three pieces to my surprise, I almost accepted the rubber sheaths; a good thing that one girls interrupted and said, “Hey, nurse! She’s a sister.” Everybody burst out laughing and you can’t imagine how must I blushed.

God is Powerful

Sometimes I ask myself, “Am I really doing something for these unfortunate women?” or I would tell God how unworthy I am. But I believe He’s powerful enough to be able to manifest His goodness and mercy even through a poor instrument liked me and I remember these words in the Gospel when Jesus said that the prostitutes would go into heaven before many others.

By Rocky Culanag

Looking back, I consider it a real blessing that I got sick during my Physical Therapy internship at the University of the Philippines. It was during my ‘blues’ period that I got to hear about the community-based rehabilitation program in Fr. Conal’s parish of Malate. I decided to give it a shot and try to help. It turned out that these children were the ones who really helped me.

This is the story of these chldren who despite having problems in their mental growth have helped me grow as a person.

BALONG

Balong, real name is Alfredo, is seventeen, he looks very grow-up, complete with beard and all but he is really a child at heart. He is very gentle and gentlemanly. Although he speaks mostly in monosyllables and cant’ even spell his whole name, I think he knows about the more important things in life. One time, the parents has a meeting and Balong we there. Everybody was seated. Balong stood up right away to offer his seat. I was really touched when I saw this as he was the only one of all the people sitting there who offered his seat. He’s really thoughtful, sometimes during class when I have to take care of everything, I really get exasperated but suddenly Balong would be behind me, patting me in the back and reminding me that I, and “basa –basa” and then he gives me one of his gap-toothed smiles. Hearing those few syllables is the greatest consolation to me. Offer me a lengthy oration or Balongs two words and I’ll take Balongs’ grunts anytime.

ANALYN

Analyn is a sixteener with Down’s Syndrome. When I first met her she was really very quite. I decided to bring her along with me whenever I visit other children in their home. After this exposure and with gentle encouragement in class it really takes an effort to keep her quite now. She’s developed into a really friendly and outgoing young lady. She greets everybody by saying “Ang pogi mo. Ang ganda mo” (you’re handsome. You’re pretty). She says this to Fr. Conal who I thick believes it even though handsome is hardly how I’d describe him.)
She really makes me feel special; when she says: Rocky, Mukha ka Sharon Cuneta, lab kita”. She almost always accompanies me when I visit the paraplegics in Balay Kalayaan (a branch of the Cheshire Homes in nearby street). She entertains them with her impersonations and her knock knock jokes. They really miss her when for some reason or other she doesn’t accompany me, who would have though that a special child like her would be the one to bring joy to other handicapped people.

GLADYS

Gladys is a young girl with cerebral palsy. Despite difficulty in walking she often drops by the office just to chat; by ‘chat’ I mean squeaks and grunts. Never the less she manages to cheer me up especially when she runs to greet me on the street. With her lopsided grin and her squeals of delight she perks me up.

JASON

Jason is mentally retarded. He scoots on his bottom instead of walking. I really get a kick out of working with him, laterally. The first time I saw he gave me a real hard kick on the shin. Later, I realized it was his way of communicating with me. He really tests the limits of my patience. One time I cried because he pulled my hair very fiercely. The funny things was when I glanced the other way with him still holding on to my hair, I saw that Cathy (one of the Irish lay missionaries) was in the same predicament with other child. We just laughed at each other, at the next class we both sported very short hair. Inspites of his violent forms of expression Jason can also be appreciative. He claps with glee when we visit him at home. There was one time I was shocked when he suddenly grabbed my hair, I thought he was angry but then he only wanted to give a kiss on the cheek. After found do he let go of me and smiled. What could I do but smile in return?

My Problems are Petty

Working with these children and other volunteers and parents ha really opened up my world. They have made me see how pretty my problems are. They made me realize the value of life. Because of them I came to appreciate God’s gifts to me. It is to them that I offer these gifts in return. For I have seen that working together we cam make this world a better place for live in. we all have gifts to share and I’ve come to realize how much the special children have to share even though at first glance they seem to have so little. It is in sharing that everybody is made whole.

“Only in sharing can we become whole”

By Fr. Sean Coyle, SSC

Henri Pranzini was a notorious criminal who was sentenced to death in France on July 13, 1887, four days after his trial opened. At the time Therese Martin was 14. Her father Louis, a watchmaker, was a widower. His wife, Zelie Guerin, had died ten years before. Louis did not allow his children to read the newspapers, even though he subscribed to La Croix, the Catholic daily which is still published in Paris. However, Therese had heard about Pranzani because the whole of France was talking about him, even I those pre-radio, pre-TV days. Everything she had heard pointed to his not having repented. She decided that she would pray in a special way for him. And she asked God for a sign.

God granted this sign. Therese read in the paper, judging that under the circumstances she was not being disobedient, that just before he placed his head under the guillotine Henri Pranzini “took hold of the crucifix the priest was holding out to him and kissed the sacred wounds three times!” then his soul went to receive the merciful sentence of Him declares that in heaven there will be more joy over one sinners who does penance than over ninety-nine just who have no need of repentance as the saint wrote in her autobiography Story of a Soul.

Therese’s response to the situation of Pranzini was one of concern for his eternal salvation. She felt that alone she could do nothing and so, “I offered to God all tie infinite merits of Our Lord, the treasures of the Church, and, and I finally begged Celine to have a Mass offered for my intentions.” Therese was afraid that Celine, her older sister would laugh at her if she knew what this intention was but when she discovered it “she asked if she could help my sinner.” Therese also asked God for a sign that her prayer had been heard. She was absolutely sure that God “would pardon the poor, unfortunate Pranzini...even if he went to his death without any signs of repentance or without having gone to confession,” She begged God for “for a ‘sign’ of repentance only for my own simple consolation.” And she did received a ‘sign’.

Through this incident Therese, who was to enter Carmel with special permission at the age of 15, began to live one part of the mission for Carmelite nuns which is to pray for sinners. Another part of that mission, which Therese also began to live, was to pray for priests.

The insight of the young Therese into the mercy of God was something that she lived by until her death ten years later as a Carmelite nun in Lisieux, the place with which she is now eternally associated. The prevailing image of god at the time was that of a stern judge, not that of a loving, merciful Father.

St. Therese, canonized in 1925, has captured in an extraordinary way the imagination and devotion of Catholics throughout the world. She has left us with her “Little Way” of following Jesus, a way in which she saw herself being at the heart of the Church, at the total disposition of Jesus. She was sure that her daily humdrum activities were used by God to bring life to others. She “understood that to become a saint one had to suffer much, seek out always the most perfect thing to do, and forget herself.”

Therese lived this out, with much suffering, in a Carmelite monastery. Her “Little Way” is a key to the Gospel for everyone, especially those who live “unexciting” Lives. After her death one of her companions asked, “What can we write about her?” little did this nun realize that Therese would be declared a saint less than thirty years later. In 1927 Pope Pius XI declared St. Therese co-patroness of the missions along with Francis Xavier

Therese is a saint whom the young, the sick, the “unimportant” those with loved ones in jail. Parents who find it painful to allow their sons and daughters to enter religious life, those with family members suffering from mental illness, can claim as one of themselves. She is a person now in the eternal presence of a loving God whom all missionaries, all with physical and mental illnesses, and sinners, especially those condemned by society, can claim as a friend.

‘She was sure that her daily humdrum activities were used by God to bring life to others.’