By Fr. Raymond Husband

Last year we had a blistering hot Good Friday afternoon. Well before three o’ clock Mariano Cagula set out with his wife Nena and their children for their barrio chapel to attend the ceremonies. They went with a light step and delight in their hearts because Mariano had been chosen to play the part of Christ in the Passion. This was big honor for Mariano, and he took great pride in being chose one. The community of his barrio. San Vicente, in the Philippines had chosen him because of his commitment and dedication. Mariano had spent the morning learning his lines and had been assured by Nena they were correct.

For many Filipinos, Good Friday is the most important day in the Church calendar. Churches and chapels are full to capacity many hours before the ceremonies begin. The people identify their sufferings with those of Christ, and thus the ceremonies hold great meaning for them.

The chapel of San Vicente, like all others, was overflowing with people. At three o’ clock the ceremonies began and Mariano played his part impressively. Just as he spoke the words, “It is finished,” a shout pierced the silence of the chapel, “Fire! Fire!” rang though the air, Mariano and the others run in the direction of the smoke, discovering to his horror that it was his home that was on fire.

There was nothing that anyone could because the fire was too far advanced. In desperation Mariano and Nena watched as everything they owned consumed by the flames. They literally were left with nothing but the clothes they were wearing. Their pig and cow. Tied beneath the house, also died in the blaze. Sorrowfully Mariano and Nena and their children were taken away from the scene and given shelter by their neighbors.

On Easter Sunday morning I was able to visit Mariano and Nena. Two days after the fire, Nena could not bear to look at the place where once her home had stood. I thought of the death of my own father a few moths earlier in a house fire. I could emphasize with her and feel her sense of loss. Words alone could not ease the pain but the concern and the care of the neighbors did help Mariano and Nena, as they helped me.

While I stood there looking at the place where there had been a happy home just two days before, a sense of loss came over me. It was the voice of Mariano that lifted my spirits, “Father, I thank God I have my family, my friends and my neighbors. We lost our home but not our hope. Today Christ is Risen and He will help us to build our live again. We put our trust in Him.” On that Easter morning he helped me to recognize the Risen Lord in the midst of suffering. For that, and for the people like Mariano I am truly grateful.