Misyon Online - January-February 1995

January-February 1995

We will never Forget Them The story of Malate Martyrs

By: Fr. Arthur Price, MSSC

One Day Long Ago

My own arrival in Malate is still clearly etched in my memory. Four of us, newly ordained priests, James McDevitt, Dermot Feeney, Martin Strong and I, arrived in Manila Bay on a beautiful tropical evening, just before sunset. We made our way to Malate Church which we found in a festive mood as the annual novena in honor of Our Lady of Remedies was then in progress. It was November 15, 1936. A wonderful atmosphere of relaxed enjoyment was everywhere. Religion really seemed to be the center of the lives of all people in more ways than one.

The Mysterious Call to the Take Hold of the chalice of Love and Suffering

By Rev. Gideon Wagay’s Ordination Day

Some years ago a young Filipino went abroad to Europe to make his fortune – well not only to make his fortune but to help his family. He went through many countries and trials and all sorts of jobs (even a bounces in a night club). He ended in London where he met the Columban Fathers who were trying to help the overseas Filipinos. There in London he decided to become a priest.

The Day the Slaves We’re Freed

By: Ariel Presbitero

My name is Ariel Presbitero. I am a Columban lay missionary in Salvador, Bahia where majority are black people and Africa culture is very strong. It’s necessary to understand it’s historical roots: Slavery.

For example, the Good Friday tradition during Holy Week, in the community where I lived (called Terra Para Todos), the people are aware of the “jejum” (fasting) because it was taught by the first evangelizers. However, in practice it’s a feast (fiesta). With all the typical foods: with red wine, loud music, singing, visiting of houses, dancing and many forms of festivities. I was a bit shocked by these customs on Good Friday. Personally, I think that Good Friday should be a day of prayer, silence and fasting. So this Brazilian tradition surprised me.

The Day the Pope Was Shot

By Charlie A. Agatep

Thirteen years ago on May 13, 1981, at 3:15pm GMT, I saw Pope John Paull II being shot as he was riding around St. Peter’s Square in his white, open jeep.

At the time of the shooting, which took place five days before the Pope’s 61st birthday anniversary, he was giving his blessing (Urbi et Orbi) and waving to a crowd of some 10,000 persons who had gathered in front of the Basilica of St. Peter’s since noon. He had just finished holding a boy in his arms inside the jeep when the shots rang out.

Please Dance at My Funeral

By : Sr. Maria Mercedes Yañez, RVM

I am Sr. Maria Mercedes Yañez, an RVM sister working here in Ghana since 1984. I am from Salcedo Eastern Samar, Philippines. I am thirty six years old now. I am the hospital administrator here in St. Theresa’s Hospital, Nkoranza – a district of Brong Ahafo Region of Ghana. There are one hundred fifty thousand people in the whole district. We have many AIDS patients here, most of them are from Ivory Coast, a French/African border state which is an eight hour drive from where I work. Hospital work is fulfilling. I feel myself to be a wounded healer! Life here is extremely fulfilling. I live daily filled to the brim with gratefulness for what God has given me.

Matchmaking Is An Art

By Sister Maryanne Terrenal, RGS

I am a Filipina Good Shepherd sister living in Korea. We Good Shepherd Sisters, as everybody knows, try to help girls and young women rejected by society. Here in Korea, we have two homes for those who have not only received rejection from society at large but from their very own families, too. One of the problems that arises is, the absence of parents who will marry them off. On the other hand, we receive many requests from eligible bachelors who do not mind what kind of girl one has been as long as she is willing to live in the countryside. For here, as elsewhere the city is thought to be the best place to be in. so I decided to try my luck at “chungmeh”.

In the Heart of Bolivia

By: Sr. Victoria Lerin, FMM

Bolivia, the heart of Latin America is very rich in culture like every country. The northern part of Bolivia is called Pando where I am working with a population of 40,000 people of which ninety percent are Catholic.

Good Samaritans To The Wounded Land

By: Fr. Vincent Busch, MSSC

Robbers Strike. So?

A lawyer, seeking to inherit eternal like Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” In answer, Jesus told the story in which a priest and a Levite, respected religious authorities in the Jewish community, passed by a wounded man left by robbers to die in the side if the road. A Samaritan, a foreigner disdained by the Jewish community took compassion on the wounded man and nursed him to health. Jesus ends the story with the question: “Which of these three proved neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?”

God had a Dream for You

By: Sr. Tammy Saberon, SSC

Here is a little story of how Sr. Tammy, a Filipino missionary in Hong Kong came to write many songs which are now available in a book called: “God had a Dream for You.” In this article Sr. Tammy now in-charge of vocation tells us how she came to write songs and thanks all those who helped her to produce the book and the cassette tape.

Fleeing from Terror in Rwanda

By: Sr. Martina Machacon, OSS

How it Started

The conflict started with the shooting down of the plane of President Juvenal Habyimana, the President of Rwanda on April 6, 1994. Immediately after the incident, communications were cut off and Kigali was blocked. People started evacuating the city with their few belongings in a bundle on their heads to escape being killed.

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Oops: The Transmission

To facilitate the animation of twenty Christian Communities, I divided them into three zones. One zone is accessible by car only during the dry season. The bush road is too much even for James Bond driver, so to avoid going back and forth, I do a live-in visit: I stay in the village for a week or so and come home only to refuel and then go back again. Last January, I started out. In the middle of the hilly road, I managed to dodge all stones and to the obstacles; this impressed my companions very much. Then came the sandy road. “At last!” I told myself and relaxed not knowing that beneath the sands was buried the remains of a big tree. As I hit it, the engine died out. “Here we go again, I thought.” As I looked at the condemned transmission, I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. The following day, observing me so crestfallen, my church helper simply said, “Well, as our elders say, Man proposes and God disposes.” Believe it or not, I got back my courage and thanks to the inventor of the four-wheel drive. I managed to tow the car back to base.