By Argee Guevarra

Five years ago, Jesuit Seminarian Richie Fernando was killed in a landmine rehabilitation center in Cambodia. In his attempt to stop a crazed student throwing a grenade at some of the already handicapped inmates, he prevented their death but was killed himself. We have a poem written by his friend Argee Guevarra in memory of Richie’s action.

Today we shall let our crosses stand
on a square foot
of the Khmer hearthland—
And knell with one leg, or without
even for hours,
on your sacrament
of giving up your life for ours.

This is your way
of atoning for the sins of the rogues
who once headed our hopes into a rosary
of skull and bones.

Perhaps it is time to piece together
your gospel of peace and bury our anger
with the limbs ripped by every landmine
roused from sleep.

Because of you,
dearest brother,
Our fragmented body is now of one soul
Learning to limp

Through life on crutches,
Our daily crosses.

-Argee Guevarra

By Father Seán Coyle mssc

The first book I ever read, when I was, 7 was Treasure Island. A map guided Jim Hawkins and his friends to the hidden treasure of my vocation during my teenage years.

My first clue

The first clue was Sister Gemma in my second year in kindergarten. She spoke about the need to support missionaries and asked us to speak to our parents. My classmates brought in the equivalent of a peso but mine gave me the equivalent of five, a lot of money for them as my father worked as a carpenter on a construction site. Sister Gemma gave me a little calendar with a picture of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, Patroness of Missionaries. I didn’t know at that time that the saint would influence me greatly years after my ordination, even though I still don’t like the name she gave herself, “the Little Flower”.

Father Woods

The following year Father Woods came our school. He was a parishioner but worked somewhere in Africa, which was unimaginable far away for us, a place where the people hadn’t heard the Good News. At least that is what the Sisters told us. I don’t remember a thing Father Woods said but I can still see him sitting in front of us, a fascinated audience, showing us articrafts from the country where he worked.

Pineapple don’t grow on trees

When I was a child pineapples were very expensive in Ireland and I dreamed of living in a country were they grew. Only after two years in the Philippines did I discover that they didn’t grow on trees!  But my childhood dream was all part of the Lord’s gracious invitation.

My first contact with the Columbans in kindergarten was tier magazine, The Far East. It had a picture of a traditional Chinese boat, a junk, on the cover. That was to take to my “Treasure Island”.

Influential Johns

I was confirmed in Grade Four. My teacher, John Gallingan, was a very proud of his family and always talking about his wife. He once brought her to meet us, the only teacher who ever did that. He also had a great love for the Mass and taught us how to use t he bilingual Latin-English missal in those pre-Vatican II days when everything in Church was in Latin. John Gallingan, as I realized only years later, had a deep influence on me, as did another John, my father, who went to Mass everyday of his life up to the day he died. My Dad didn’t talked about his faith. He just lived it and was the same person with everyone he me, deeply respectful to all.

An eye for the girls and spitfire

In high school I tried to go to Mass every day, often enough, especially on cold, winter mornings, I just turned over and got some extra sleep instead. By this time too I and already begun to see that girls my own age were very attractive. And I wanted to be a pilot, as did all my barkada. We were all strongly under the influence of Biggles, a fictional fighter pilot in the Royal Air force. We devoured the novels Captain W.E. Johns wrote about him. He flew a Spitfire, a fighter plane that with the Hurricane won the Battle of Britain in 1940. To this day, though I am a pacifist, more or less, I find few things more beautiful than the graceful spitfire in flight, the closest thing to a bird that man has ever made.

Of that barkada of would-be pilots, two became doctors, one a diplomat and I a priest. During that first year in high school I began to feel the stirrings of an interest in being a priest. And it was always an interest in being a missionary priest. Other countries have always fascinated me and God built on that natural interest which he had put there in the first place.

Missionary shopping

The following summer, 1957, I got my first job, at a small gasoline station. There weren’t too many costumers and I had lots of time to read. I used to bring copies of The Far East and other material about missionaries to work and it became very clear to me that I really wanted to be a missionary priest. I still had four years to do in high school but my desire never wavered, despite the fact that I continued to notice that girls my own age were not only nice to look at but even nicer to be with. The idea of not being with them was the most difficult part of joining the Columbans in 1961. I had decided on the Columbans two years before that. I had shopped around all the missionary groups.  Reading the students’ column in The Far East I wanted to be with these young men who were so human, not too much unlike myself. A Christian Brother who taught us, who didn’t know what I was thinking, said to us in class one day, “Only the best join the Columbans.” That encouraged me.

Another factor that drew me to the Columbans was that they had been founded in my native Ireland but were international in membership, with men from Ireland, Britain, Australia, New Zealand and the USA working together in each country where there were Columbans. That international aspect has expanded and now we have members from Chile, China, Fiji, Korea, Peru, Philippines, Tonga and Vietnam.

The Columbans are secular priests not religious. I never felt any desire to take a vow of poverty, though I had no expectation that I would become a millionaire either. Nor have I!

To be a missionary – nothing else

Behind all of this was a desire to bring the Good News to people who hadn’t heard it or whose church still needed support from overseas. I had a simple view of thins but it was real and I’m convinced that the Lord was speaking to me through it.

The seminary years only strengthened my desire to be a missionary priest. Time and time again my experience as a priest has confirmed that, especially on occasions such as students’ retreats when young people, who so often judge themselves harshly, get an inkling of God’s unconditional and tender love for them. In recent years I find myself repeating more and more to people one of my favorite lines in the Bible, and it occurs many times, “God takes delight in his people.”

Maybe God has called me to be a Columban just to learn for myself and to tell others about it.

By Fr. Jerome Cayetano svd

Bishops Cornelius Kipng’eno Arap Korir, the bishops of the Diocese of Eldoret, had made an urgent appeal to the SVD Superior in Rome to send a missionary to help out in the chaplaincy work of his diocese several years ago. His request was finally granted and Fr. Jerome Cayetano was sent to Kenya in 1996.

I started my chaplaincy work at Moi University (Chepkoilel Campus) and Eldoret Medical Department in February of 1996. Fr. Crowley, the part-time chaplain of these institutions for four years, gave me a good orientation before I began my new assignment.

Moi University has approximately 1, 500 students, about 500 of whom are Catholics and members of the Catholic Students Association (CSA), while the latter Eldoret Medical Department has 200 students of whom 70 are Catholics. This figure reflects the same percentage of Catholics in Kenya. There are 29 million here in Kenya, only 29%, of the people are Catholics. However, the Catholic Church in Kenya is promising by the fact that infant and adult baptism was increased considerably, new dioceses have been created and vocations to the religious life are always on the rise.

I am directly involved in the Catholic Students Association. My primary concern is to provide the spiritual and pastoral needs of the students. I usually meet the students at 7:30-10:30 in the evening of Tuesday, Wednesday and Fridays since it is impossible four the students to see their chaplain during the day because o classes. Traveling in the evening from Langas to these campuses is not easy. I always pray that nothing bad will happen to me whenever I visit the students. So far God has been gracious to me. I haven’t experienced any vehicular accident or even engine trouble or a flat tire in the middle of the night.

We have Masses, confessions, penitential services, spiritual counseling sessions, symposium, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, Bible study and sharing sessions.

One thing I have observed, the attendance of students at     these religious exercises has increase considerably. I feel that in some way my presence has inspired the officers of CSA to perform their duties inspired the officers of CSA to perform their duties and responsibilities well.

After a few months, the Eldoret Polytechnic College was added to my concern. The CSA of Polytechnic College are happy to have a full time chaplain. I visit them on Thursdays.

One of the things that inspire me in this ministry is the interest, responsiveness and seriousness the students exude with regarded to their faith. I just hope that I would have the energy and gusto to assist them in their journey in quest for perfection.

In the Missions, what is important is our inner disposition with a sincere zeal to work for God’s Kingdom. With right motivation and disposition, I believe, we can overcome our difficulties and frustrations.

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Portable confessional box

During confession in one of Wenchi villages where there was no confession box, an old woman whispered her many sins to my ear, so many that she got tired and began to rest her chin on my shoulder, her weight pushing me down. I was already leaning to my left as if  I a had a stiff neck. I should have brought a portable confessional box with me.

“Don’t wash my feet...”

Fr. Joseph Glatzel, svd, was the parish priest of Yamfo in Sunyani. On Holy Thursday, the parishioners decided to dramatize the washing of the feet but forgot to inform Fr. Glatzel. During the ceremony, Fr. Glatzel was about to wash the feet of the one representing Peter and Peter, according to the script, said, “You will never wash my feet.” Stunned momentarily, Fr. Glatzel retorted, “Then why are you here?” if he knew it was a drama, he should have said, “Peter, if I don’t wash your feet...” Poor Peter, how he must have stumbled over his script.

Acknowledging the acknowledgment

Fr. Niall O’ Brien, in an endless acknowledgement, acknowledged my letter in this manner of acknowledgement: “Just a line to acknowledge your letter. No need to acknowledge my acknowledgement, other wise I will have to acknowledge your acknowledgement of my acknowledgement of your acknowledgement...”

Footwear fashion

I was rushing for my catechism class in Akrobi village fearing that the catechumens might leave the church for it was getting too late in the evening. As I entered the church, I noticed my left foot was making noise while I walked but my right was not. To my horror, I saw my left foot was still wearing slippers! Thank goodness no one noticed it, O, holy night.

By Niall O’ Brien mssc

Fr. Eddie Allen died at the Columban Headquarters in Batang, Himamaylan on Saturday the 3rd of March at 8:30 in the morning after a long illness in bed. He was 94 years old age and had worked in the Philippines for the last fifty years. I am sad that I was not in Negros and able to attend his funeral, as I was in Ireland getting a medical check up.

A Mystery

There is a little mystery about Eddie. He never learned to drive or at least he never drove here in the Philippines; he never built any churches or organized schools; he lived quite life in the Convento, going out when called but he was ever into initiating any evangelizing projects or social projects. Yet, he was the most popular and sought after Columban priest in Negros. I don’t think the word popular is the right word. He was not interested in popularity, maybe I sold say the “love”. The most loved Columban priest.

His Secret

Fr. Eddie took a stand on social justice and if necessary spoke to people directly about the need for justice for the poor, but he managed to do this without alienating them. So what was his secret? He listened and was available at all times to people who had problems. I think he gave many hours each day to listening to people’s problems. His favorite quote was from the Gospel of St. John, the words of Jesus: Without me you can do nothing. He never tired of quoting this to his visitors and he made it the central truth of his own life.

Just like that

Two little incidents come to mind: as an old priest in Himamaylan he was blessing a vehicle for someone; after doing the blessing he said to the woman who was requesting the blessing, “And how are your yourself?” She responded by sitting down with him and pouring out her problems for a long time. And she became one of his special friends, just like that.

During his long illness I used to read out to him the letters and card he had received, even if they had been read out before. One occasion I red from a Filipina, married happily in Boston, to whom he had been a spiritual director for years. In the letter she said simply: Fr. Eddie, you are the one who taught me how to love.

We use word saint about our friends too lightly. Though in the epistles of St. Paul he calls all Christian “saints”...I think he means “called to be saints”. Those who knew Fr. Eddie know in there hearts that her really did answer this call and I think the people of Kabankalan are lucky to have him buried there amongst them. May his call presence remind them all of us how to love.

P.S. Fr. Eddie’s last years were difficult but he was surrounded by the care of Mila Villavicencio and her nurses, doctors and friends. Those of us watching from the sidelines knew that nowhere in the world was a sick person so cared for or so cared for our so cherished as was Fr. Eddie. We, Columban Fathers, will be forever grateful for such love.

 

By Gee-Gee O. Torres
Assistant Editor

When I went to Korea last year. I meet many wonderful people and among them were our Filipino missionaries. Here I would like to introduce to you five wonderful persons who chose to live their life on mission.

Sr. Norie Mojado, mm
Maryknoll Sisters
33 Hwadong Chongno Gu
Seoul 110-210, Korea

Sr. Norie arrived in Korea in 1978 and worked with the urban poor. After several years she was reassigned to the US to work in the vocation ministry. And now she’s in Korea as a pastoral counselor and spiritual director. Sr. Norie says that until now she has not mastered the Korean language which is said to be one of the most difficult languages to learn. “However, I think I can understand more than those who master the Korean language because I have mastered the language of love.”

Sr. Norie reminded that as missionaries we should always remember that God is already here before we came. In the old days missionaries were perceived to be bringing God to the people. We need to come to them with respect and love. To be a missionary is to learn from the people you are working with.

Sr.  Michaela Santiago, fma
Salesian Sisters
Yongdungpo-gu Shin-gil
5-dong 253-242
Seoul 150-055, Korea

Sr. Michaela Santiago, fma is the oldest Filipino missionary in Korea. She arrived in Korea in 1957 at the age of 24. Korea then was just recovering from the devastation caused by the Korean War.

“When I first arrived in Korea, there was nothing – no food, no water, refugees everywhere. We had to go the US Military campus to ask for food and water.”

Sr. Michaela always wanted to become a missionary when she was small. The Lord answered her prayer by showing her the way to the Salesian Sisters.

Now at the age of 72 she is happy to see the fruits of her labor. “I feel my mission now is just be a candle and continue to give light to the people around me.”

Sr. Amy Baybay, ssc
St. Columban’s Clinic
Kang Won Do
Chunchon 200-050, Korea

Sr. Amy, from Albay, is the first Filipino Columban sister to be sent on mission. In 1962 after her final vows she was assigned to Korea to help in the medical mission at Mokpo Hospital. “When I first came there was no water supply, no electricity. It was so difficult to take care of the patients. Many died of various diseases such as tuberculosis. I remember us once having an emergency surgery in the hospital. An eight-year-old-boy had an acute abdominal pain. He had to be operated on. As we were doing the operation the electricity went out. I was holding the flashlight and I was terrified to see parasites coming of the child’s stomach. After a year of taking care of him at the hospital, the boy recovered.

I left Korea in 1977 and went other US for another assignment in Korea when I arrived I couldn’t recognize Korea anymore. It blew my mind to see the changes – subway, high rise buildings, concrete roads.”

Sr. Amy is now the administrator of St. Columban’s Clinic in Chunchon, the only clinic run by the Columban Sisters in Korea today.

Sr. Genevieve Jabasa, cm
Carmelite Missionary
35-74 Tongui-dong, Chongnu-ku
Seoul 110-040, Korea

Sr. Genevieve is from Guimaras, Iloilo. She is one of the pioneers of the Carmelite Missionaries of the Carmelite Missionaries in Korea. She came to Korea in 1977 together with Spanish Isabel Vidart and Amparo Baquedano. “I thank the Lord for helping me survived in Korea – 24 long years. Perseverance and humility are two important things which help all these years. I really enjoyed my missionary life. Yes, there were difficulties along the way but it made me even a stronger person. I always thought of what my father told me before I left for mission, never to let down my congregation because in doing so I would be letting him down too. Now as I look back I feel fulfilled. I could say all the hardships were worth it – we now have a Korean delegation. “Sr. Genevieve is now the sister general in their Provincial House in Seoul where she continues to support their Korean Sisters by being a living witness to God’s love.

Sr. Rita Danganan, rgs
Good Shepherd Sisters
Kwang Jin Gu, No Yu 1 Dong 5-8
Seoul 143-301, Korea

Sr. Rita arrived in Korea in 1966. She was assigned in Chonju, south of Korea, where she helped victims of prostitution. After six years the Good Shepherd Sisters left Chonju and moved on to Seoul. “In the seventies Seoul was very different from the bustling city of Seoul today. It was then the factory area. We started a night school for factory workers. Many of them hadn’t been to high school. Students volunteered to help us in our apostolate.”

The Good Shepherd Sisters now have two apostolates in Korea: Good Shepherd’s Home for runaway girls and Euphrasia Home, temporary shelter for unwed mothers.

Sr. Rita would have wanted to go to Vietnam for her next assignment. She almost made it but due to a heart problem she had to let go for Vietnam for the moment. She is now staying in their convent in Seoul helping in their various projects in her won little way.

By Sr. Eva, Calingo cm

There was a time when we needed another pairs of hands in the kitchen in our General House. The suggestion in my community was “Why don’t we get a Filipino helper?” The next very day, I received a call from Annie. She became our cook.

Annie, our cook

In our General House, we are an international community of more than 40 Sisters. Annie comes very afternoon, six days a week, at times on Sunday as well. She has bee in  Italy for many years, working indifferent households. She easily won the hearts of the Sisters with her sincere smile, openness, kindheartedness, patience and, surely the food she prepares. You only have to see her working and moving kitchen and you’ll say it’s her domain.

Silent language

Italian, English, Filipino, Korean, Polish, Hindi and many other languages are spoken in our community and Annie can only understand Italian and Filipino. But then, she still gets along well with the Sister. Language is not a barrier. As St. John of the Cross said “The language that God best hears is the silent language of love.”

Refreshed in the Kitchen

Since Annie arrived, I began taking my afternoon snacks in the kitchen. I work in a ‘jungle’ of computers, machines and papers in our General Secretariat. Going to the kitchen is a real refreshing break especially when the days are too full and I cannot even to the garden for a breath of fresh air. The kitchen working table is our silent spectator and listeners. There, I came to know Annie a little deeper, her life, work, struggles, dreams, family. He husband also works here in Rome and studies music in the afternoon. They are very active in the Filipino Community at Sacro Cuore and wouldn’t miss the Sunday afternoon Mass for anything.

If he smiles back, he’s Pinoy

In Rome, the Eternal City. The Filipino are a very organized migrant group. Priests and religious help them in their spiritual needs. Many are lucky in their jobs. A Filipino here can find plenty of “kababayans” at the bus stop, church, grocery, parks, trams, buses and in the streets when they go to or from work our during their day off. In a city with plenty of migrants like Rome, at times it is not easy to say if one is a “kababayans” or not what do we do when in doubt? We smile at the person, and if he or she smiles back, we immediately ask, “Pilipino? Kamusta po?”, which is usually followed by a friendly conversation, particularly if we’re in a bus or in the tram, until we reach our destination. This is a wonder to my Sisters of other nationalities. They told me first time but engage in a conversation as if we’ve known each other for ages!

Two serving hands and a heart

Having Annie with us and some brief encounters with other Filipino workers here, I marvel at their faith, their inner strength to face the ups and downs of lied in the foreign country. They give good examples of a life of strong faith in God, hard work and close family ties. I remember one Spanish Sister who was teary-eyed when she related to me about her Italian friend, an old woman who lives alone. A Filipino lady takes care of her friend and she admires her kindness and dedication. She said, “Yes, they do their job to earn living, but how they do it is something money cant buy.”

An Interview by Sr. Ma. Michelina Brondial, fsp

Fr. Ernesto Montuero grew up in Manila. Coming from a religious family, young Ernie used to attend daily Masses and was active in religious activities in high school. It was then that he started to feel the call to the priesthood. He met a Dominican priest and got attracted to the order; this made him join the order as a postulant, stayed with them for sometime and later left. He got involved in different Christian organizations while pursuing his personal ambitions, plans and worldly life. But when he graduated from the temptations of great jobs and a rewarding future was too exciting. He got a job in the prestigious company. However, he felt something was missing in his life. He let go of his career, family, relationships and embraced God’s invitation which he had been declining – he joined the Carmels. He was ordained priest last May 31, 2000 at Our Lady of Mt. Carmel Shrine in New Manila, Quezon City.

Sr. Michel: Where you excited about your ordination?

Fr. Ernie: Not really. I was more excited during my perpetual profession and solemn vows where I made my lifetime commitment to religious life, the Carmelite spirit and color. Ordination for me was just a bonus

Sr. Michel: The relics of St.  Therese of the Child Jesus came to visit us for two months. How did you feel when you were carrying the reliquary in the procession?

Fr. Ernie: Ever since I entered Carmel, her presence in my life is always pervading especially during my motivate year. My novice master, Fr. Alan Reigner, would always tell me, “Read her life, teachings and writings and it will surely help you surpass the trials and hardships in the Novitiate.” I followed this advice and I think that if not for St. Therese I would not be in Carmel. I felt her intercession very much when I was yet a novice. I always told myself that I would wait for her visit one day. And indeed she did.

Sr. Michel: I understood that you take charge of the youth ministry in your parish. How do you find the youth of today?

Fr. Ernie: The youth of today? Wow! They are very different from yesterday. Many of them, especially those who are active in the parish, come from dysfunctional families or no families at all. Life is very hard for them, needless to say, and it is good that they spend their time in church activities instead of discos, gigs and x-rated movies like what most of the young people love to today. But if given the choice I’d rather not do youth ministry. With young people I have to deal with various emotional problems and I don’t feel well-equipped to handle these kinds of problems.

Sr. Michel: What apostolate would you prefer?

Fr. Ernie: If I were to choose I would like to carry out the main apostolate of the Carmelite: give retreats, recollections, formation and work in a spiritual center.

Sr. Michel: Why did you choose the Carmelites? What attracted you to them?

Fr. Ernie: I was attracted to their prayer life, the Praying Christ, their contemplation and action. And when I was reading the book of our Holy Parents – St. Therese, St. John of the Cross and St. Therese of the Child Jesus – I could feel them resonating. So I said to myself, “This must be the life the Lord wants me to live.” I tried it and I have no regret I did.

By Sr. Angela Battung, rgs

Sr. Mary Angela Battung, a Filipino missionary in Canada, challenges us, the “neither beautiful nor unbeautiful ones” to get out there and do something for the poor of the world, crying out for help.

In one of his books, Ralph Martin classifies people into two groups; the “beautiful people” who earn lots of money, make scientific discoveries, break sports record, win in elections, people who make headlines. The “unbeautiful people” are the billions of uneducated, impoverished human beings who sleep on a mud floor in one-room hut that cannot protect them form rain or heat. They fight off rats,, steal for food or scavenge in the garbage. The dead bodies of their children and parents lei briefly in the hut, unnamable, covered with flies, quickly buried. I think their is a third group. Those who are neither “beautiful people” nor “unbeautiful people”. They are the ordinary ones, like you and me. We are the ones who look at the “beautiful people” and wonder if they are happy. And who look at the “unbeautiful ones, our hearts full of compassion, yearning to do something for them, actually doing something for them once in a while but feeling helpless and inadequate because our help and efforts seem so small and useless.

They heard the call

Like Mother Teresa, there are some in the third group who have responded to God’s invitation and inspiration and faced these responsibilities for their brothers and sisters. “What you did for one of the least of these who are members of my family you did for me.” (Matt.25:40)

Patrick Zantagni

One good example is Patrick Zantagni who started an NGO in Benin, Africa. He told a group of poor women that if they could present a plan to start their own business and undergo some training, his group loan them some start-up money. These women live in one-room huts. Their husbands dead, they provide for their children and their aging parents from incomes that come from the selling vegetables. They talked and prayed to together then decided to work together and with Patrick’s encouragement the group came up with a plan – to make coconut cooking oil. Their business became a success; it helped them make first step beyond just surviving.

Albert Schweitzer

Albert Schweitzer who could have been one of the “beautiful people” left the concert stage in Europe, became a medical doctor, opened a hospital and served Africa’s poor until he died at the age of ninety. He wrote, “Out here, millions love without help or hope of it. Everyday there prevails in many far – off huts a despair we could banish. It is time we face our responsibilities.”

Sr. Mary Elise Rasch

Sr. Mary Elise Rasch was once a team member as the Good Shepherd Sisters. She traveled to many countries to visit and encourage us sisters in our ministries. She witnessed the poverty, the indifference of some governments and the greed of many unscrupulous businessmen and politicians, and the backbreaking hardships of the women to keep the family afloat. She started SHARING FAIR, a marketing project in which the Good Shepherd Sisters here in Canada sell products made by women in developing countries. This project is able to support their families, send their children to school or buy medicine. The products are well-made, creative, beautiful and not expensive. Sr. Elise sums it up like this: “There is a real human being behind each item we sell.

God did something

The Desert Monastics tell the story of a “Seeker” on a prayer run. He met a cripple, then a beggar, and then a victim of violence. And seeing them, the “Seeker” went down, down, down into deep prayer and cried, “Great God! How is it that a Loving Creator can see such things yet do nothing about hem?” And, out of the long, long silence, God said, “I did do something about them, I made you!”

By Sr. Rosalinda Gonzales, mmm

Sr. Rosalinda is a missionary doctor who has been working in Tanzania for many years now. Together with her fellow Sister nurses and doctors, they run the Kabanga Hospital mostly overflowing with refugees – one of the perennial concerns of Africa. Here she tells us of a night of terror when armed robbers broke in into their convent.

It was a quarter past midnight. Staff Nurse Loyce was walking through the dark hospital alley holding a torch because there was brownout. She was going inside the Male Ward where she was assigned when she saw a male patient and his companion go inside the neighboring Children’s Ward. She thought they just went the wrong way so she requested them to follow her to the Male Ward. Suddenly one of the two men straightened up, pulled out his gun and gave her a shove which made her fall to the ground. Then the men ordered a group of hospital staff who happened to pass by the same alley to lead them to the administrators of the hospital. With the gun being pointed at them, the hospital staff were force to bring the gunmen to the convent of the MMM Sisters who run the hospital.

Walking up to terror

Meanwhile, in my own room in the convent, I was awakened by heavy footsteps going past my window. I presumed that the security men had a problem to refer to Sister Patricia Byrne, Hospital Administrator. I tried to fall back to sleep but then the footsteps were back at my window a few minutes later. I recognized the voice of our security guard, Fredrick, calling, “Doctor, Doctor.”

I got up from bed and drew the curtains a little. It was pitch black but I could recognize about a dozen of people in the dark. One man was close to the window, holding a lighted torch which was directed to my face.

Me: “What is your problem, Fredrick?”

Fredrick: “This job is endangering my life, doctor.”

Me: “How come there are many people? Who are they?”

I did not recognize then that hey had guns and that the hospital staff among the crowd were hostages already. A voice from the crowd said, “We are policemen of Kigoma.”

Me: “How come that policemen from Kigoma are here at this hour?”

Voice of gunman: “We need your help to sustain our life.”

Me: “What help do you need?”

Voice of gunman: “Give us money.”

Me: “Sirs, there is no money here. This is a Sisters’ house not a place for money. Our work is to help and serve the poor and the sick. Money is found in banks.”

Voice of gunman: “Sister, open the door.”

Alert call of the Sisters

I suddenly sensed something amiss was going on so I retreated from the window, drew back the curtain and quickly left my bedroom to alert the Sisters. I was surprised to see the Sisters all up and awake. Sr. Fidelia Adigon, hospital matron, asked me, “Who are they?” “Robbers,” I replied. “They flashed there torches at my window but I ignored them. I closed my window as soon as they left.” Sr. Patricia added.

The firing started

The gunmen realized that I was not opening any door so they shouted, “Sister, sister, fungua inlango!” A little later there were strong bangings at the back door as they were trying to force it open. Then minutes after they started to fire their guns. As I returned to my bedroom to collect my handset I heard Sr. Celine saying, “What is that on my foot?”

When I came back there was already blood on the floor, she had been hit by a stray bullet.

Meanwhile Fredrick, the guard, was able to run away. He jumped over the hospital fence and rang the bell repeatedly at the village hall. The village people responded immediately as someone shouted, “Wake up, wake up and help the Sisters!” They marched toward the hospital compound with their cutlasses and sticks. But I thought to myself what can they do against these armed robbers?

Handset radio

The thieves outside heard the sound of the radio being turned on. They said, “Hurry, hurry, she has a radio.” I ran towards the convent chapel silently were the Sisters had gathered for safety. It was five bedrooms away from the backdoor. I locked the sacristy door and the chapel door and joined the Sister who were fervently praying four our safety and deliverance. Sr. Celine’s foot was elevated to lessen the bleeding. She was in pain but we couldn’t apply any medication as we had to keep still for the moment lest we get hit by stray bullets. The sounds of the gunshot were like cannon balls and the bangings on the doors continued on as though the convent roof was ready to fall on us.

I sat down on the cement floor and contacted the police: “Alpha Papa One (the police) for Alpha Romeo 614 (my call sign). Please help us, armed robbers have surrounded the MMM Convent and are shouting and firing continuously. One Sister has been hit by a stray bullet. Come immediately to Kabanga Hospital.” The police mobilized their forces in a flash. While they were on their way to Kabanga Hospital I continuously gave them information on the armed robbers’ activities.

The handset radio was loaned to me by the Red Cross for easy and quick communication with Kabanga Hospital where they refer their patients from the three refugee camps under their care. All NGOs working for the refugees, the Kabanga Hospital, the Police Departments in the District and refugee camps were connected to the same channel.

Missed death by an inch

The thieves were able to open the backdoor by firing at they keyhole. The bullets penetrated the metal glass door into the long corridor. Two bullets went as far as the metal glass door in the front of the Convent. Thus the gunmen were able to enter the refectory where they ransacked everything an even punched a bullet into the socket for the bread toaster. It was a bullet which passed through the metal glass door which wounded Sr. Celine. I noted later that there were two bullet holes at the exact location where I was standing before at the corridor but missed me, through God’s grace, when I entered my bedroom to get the handset radio.

The police gave instructions to keep ourselves safe and informed us as to where they were. This gave us hope and some relief. The whole ordeal lasted for half an hour but to us it seemed eternity.

When the police cars raced up the armed robbers dashed away to the back gate and jumped over the fence.

Sr. Celine’s splinted toes

After a short while the village people filled the hospital compound. Thank God they were not harmed by the robbers. Sr. Celine was immediately brought to the operating theatre. The bullet had penetrated from the outer small toes of her left foot and out to the inner big toe. The tarsal bones were all splintered at the distal end as shown by x-ray. She was in her post operative bed by 1:30 am. The two German doctors who operated on her were volunteers at the Kabanga Hospital for two months and would be leaving at the end of the week. Sr. Raimund Feigeler is an orthopedic doctor and was assisted by his wife Dr. Waltraub Feigeler. Due to lack of facilities Dr. Raimund referred Sr. Celine for reconstructive surgery in a consultant hospital.

The following day Sr. Celine was flown to Nairobi accompanied by Sr. Helen where they took an international flight to Ireland. She was brought straight to the operating theater and had a four-hour reconstructive surgery. Dr. Raimund’s emergency surgery at Kabanga Hospital saved the foot of Sr. Celine according to the surgeon.

Who can be against us?

At the same day Misa de Gratia was held at the hospital. It was an occasion to thank God for His presence and protection during our ordeal.

It took days for the police to pursue the robbers and we found out later when they were apprehended that most of them were refugees and some locals. A newspaper account later mentioned that all the armed robbers were able to get from the Convent was a loaf of bread, a half bottle of homemade wine and two table knives.

It takes time for things to get back to normal again after such a traumatic incident. Our lives were endangered but the Sisters and the hospital workers who were directly affected continue with our work as usual. We trust that the Lord who protected and saved us will bring the healing in due time as we continue in His service. After all if God is with us, who can be against us?

By Sr. Leticia Bartolome icm

They have been hailed as “new economic heroes” of the Philippines. The estimated 6.5 million Filipino workers in 180 countries endure enormous sacrifices to be able to send home their earnings. Other than working with the special people, Sr. Leticia Bartolome is also involved with these modern day missionaries in Hong Kong.

Other than for dollars, be missionaries

Twenty years ago during a Mission Sunday homily in Hong Kong, an Irish priest shared his thoughts: “When famine struck my country many years ago our people left one in search for work. They kept their faith and they brought Christianity to the places where they settled. God used them as His instruments in spreading the Good News.”

Then addressing us Filipinos, particularly the migrant workers present, he said, “You are here to earn a living for your families. You need the dollars but you are here not only for that. You come from a Catholic country, you have your faith, go and answer our Lord who calls you to be His missionaries. Be missionaries in your own time, in your own way.”

Prophetic words, indeed. Twenty years later mission stories continue to be heard from our Filipino overseas workers. In all these stories, they have played the main character, being bearers of Catholic faith in a Buddhist country. They contribute to the liturgical life in the church as choir members and readers. Others do volunteer work in homes for the aged and centers for people with physical and mental disabilities. This life of service has even led a number of migrant workers to join the religious life. Not to mention some of their employers becoming Christians.

A Gift for China

In March 2000, I was among the congregation of more than 400 participants at the Eucharist in the Sacred Heart Cathedral at Guangzhou (Canton). It was a multi-cultural group, and leading them was the Filipino group. Throughout the Mass, I felt so close to the Philippine Church, so close to home. I was seeing “empowerment of the laity” in action. Gratitude over whelmed my heart. They are gifts to us Filipinos and they are the Philippines Church’s gifts to China and to other parts of the world. They bring abroad their faith.

By Fr. Niall O’ Brien mssc

Last year my superior called and asked me would I speak at the Jubilee Mission Congress which took place in Cebu at the end of September. I would have like to refuse. But the request had come from the bishops to him. If it had come directly to me, I would have been able to give home in Ireland and it wouldn’t be easy to get back in time to prepare. But by coursing it through my superior it was difficult for me to refuse. I am glad now that I didn’t.

Revolution from the Heart

When I got to the pre-Congress meeting in Manila I discovered the reason I was asked was not because of the gift of the gab but because of my book, Revolution from the Heart. Which to a great extent is about Basic Christian Communities. And to my dismay I was not being asked to give a talk but to give a workshop: two two-and-a-half-hour workshops. Workshops are much more difficult things. In a workshop you get another to talk, you get them to share their ideas and you collect their combined wisdom. Giving talks is the banking method. You supposedly have the wisdom and you share it with them. On the other hand, in the workshop method they have the wisdom and your job is to direct the group so that you are able to draw that wisdom out of them and pull it together and present something to the whole group which comes from each individual person in it.

Getting down to work

Well, I took myself to Cebu where various dignitaries, cardinals and archbishops. And people from all walks of life were gathering for the National Mission Congress. The city was abuzz with ‘missions’ of every possible sort and loads of hardworking workshops. In all hey expected 4, 000 people to attend through I don’t know what the final number was. My job was to get down to work and do the two-and-a-half hour workshops at St. Theresa’s College. I was scared that he participants were going to be neophytes who wouldn’t t know a Christian community if it bit them in the leg and we would have to start from scratch. But luckily on that count I was wrong. All the people attending were mature and had long experience with communities. As a result we didn’t have to waste time wrangling over problems which had been solved a long time ago. We were able to get down to work.

Women Power

We were in classrooms and the noise from the next room was terrible. I sent in a succession of seminarians to quell the chaos. Each failed – too timorous I reckoned. Then a fine, strong nun got up and said, “Leave it to me.” She disappeared and within a few seconds the next room sounded like a cemetery at midnight.

Ecclesial or Christian communities?

We tackled the thorniest problems connected with Basic Ecclesial communities. By the way, the name doesn’t matter – ecclesial or Christian. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. But when you sue the word ecclesial you emphasize the fact that a Christian community should be connected with the Church.  That it is part of the church. That it is the Church in miniature. We were anxious to use this word because this is the word used in PCP II. I suppose it is another way of saying that thought the Christian communities should act locally they should think globally – think Church in the broad sense.

Reaching out to the un-Churched

One of those thorny problems which we had to face was the relationship between the small Christian communities and the long established mandated organizations which have been around for donkey’s years. I think the result of our discussion was good on this count because it became. Clear to us that most of us who had come who into the Church had grown up in the Church with the old, true and tried organizations basically feed the Christian life. They presume faith and they try to strengthen it and refresh it. On the other had, the Basic Christian Communities to a certain extent are for the un-Churched. They reach out to the un-Churched, to those who have not been touched. That’s why they are very successful in the rural areas and maybe in the in the squatters areas, too. We agreed that it was very important that neither group should feel threatened by the other. They should work in harmony and there is plenty of room for May flowers to bloom. You could be long to a Basic Christian Community and also to the Barangay sang Birhen or any organization there is. It was a case of orchestrating. The job of the parish priest was to be the conductor of the orchestra and make sure that all the different instruments in the parish work together in tune and in harmony.

Recommendations

We were then asked to make recommendations to the bishops. We made many recommendations, but one particularly strong one which many people will agree with is that where a parish has launched into Basic Ecclesial Communities a lot of work and tears and sweat has gone into them. if the next priest appointed does not follow on that, it causes great confusion and hurt on the part of the lay people who have given so many years of their life and suddenly find themselves switched into something else and, of course, it causes bitterness in the hart of the priest who has left when he sees his work going up in smoke. So what we asked for was that the newly appointed priest should be in harmony himself with the programs of the parish that he is about to take over. He shouldn’t come in and switch off everything. It would also be unacceptable to come in and cut off mandated organizations which have been going for years and years. Or ignore them. I know of a parish in Ireland, a woman frond of mine, who with herself and other lay people, gave a huge amount of there time in enlivening the parish and when the parish priest died the successor had no time for any of what they had done so they just threw up their hands in despair and gave up all the work for the Church. Sad. Our request then to the bishops was that in the reshuffling of parishes the nature of the existing parish should be taken into account before they appoint a new priest.

Because I kept my nose to the grindstone in order to do the workshops I never got around to the various ‘shows’ there were in town or to all the speakers but I was told by the others that the Mission Congress was one of the best things that ever happened on  the Church’s religious scene tin the Philippines. May I leave you with one thought that came up at our workshop, appropriate enough in this month of October, the month of missions: Evangelization is mission at home. Mission is evangelization abroad.

Evangelization is mission at home. Mission is evangelization abroad.

By Buhawi Meneses

Mama was what I call my mother, Rosa Meneses. It wasn’t very long ago when her name rang a bell as part of the telethon on breast cancer awareness staged by ABS-CBN in cooperation wit h the Philippine Breast Cancer Network, a project she co-founded with my father Danny Meneses. That telethon aimed to raise funds for the information drive being instigated by the network in order to combat breast cancer, a disease practically unknown to any of us, until the time when it finally hit my own mother.

I was twenty years old then, unmindful of the cacophony around me. I was the typical happy-go-lucky guy – hanging around, taking my studies lightly, doing extra-curricular stuff more than going to class. But on that particular day in 1996, I felt my world stand still. I came home from school and found my mother crying by the dinner table. I sensed something seriously wrong, so I prodded her to tell her to tell me what it was. When the words breast cancer escaped her lips, I just felt strange. I didn’t know what cancer was, didn’t understand how it worked. All I knew was that she had some kind of illness.

I found out that the doctors had given her a five-year statistical chance of surviving cancer, that was if she would consent to aggressive chemotherapy and radiation. Otherwise, she was told she would only have two years to live.

Alternative medicine

After overcoming the initial jolt about my mother’s illness, the whole family – my dad, my mom, my sister and I – put our heads together and got ourselves acquainted with breast cancer. We studied options on how the cancer could be contained and obliterated, without having my mom go through the horrible side effects of substance therapy and exposure to extremely high levels of radiation. Finally, we agreed upon alternative medicine, where in my mom would have to follow a strict diet regimen and use non-toxic medication in order to tame those aggressive cancer cells.

I offered to stop my schooling, so it was agreed upon that I would take care of my mom during daytime, while my dad and my elder sister Amihan went to work and my younger siblings went to school. Anyway, ever since I was little, my mom and I had been inseparable, and I was always the one whom she could rely on to run errands for her. So I didn’t mind the set –up at all.

Mama’s nurse

Keeping Mama on her regimen to make her well became our priority, and I was glad I played a major role in her therapy. I stayed with her all day, preparing her food, administering her medications, attending to everything she needed and going with her wherever   she needed to go. Aside from taking the role of being my mother’s caretaker, I also took on the responsibility of taking  charge of my two younger sisters, preparing them for school, taking them there in the morning and picking them up in the afternoon.

This was my routine, day in and day out.  My enthusiasm was fueled by a film, I saw, Lorenzo’s Oil, about a little boy who had a debilitating disease whose parents’ persistence led to the discovery of an extraordinary substance that could prevent triggering his illness.

Reality bites

Sometimes though, there were days which got really tough. I’d see my mom grimacing in pain because of her condition. It felt as if I was in agony myself. Though I never let it show, there were times when I’d watch over her and just cry. I felt totally helpless whenever she was in pain, whenever I tried to soothe her discomfort with a special oil and I feel the hard mass of cancer cells protruding from her skin. I could only imagine how much pain those lumps causing her!

It was a good thing I became part of a band called Parokya ni Edgar. Becoming the bassist fro the group came as a blessing in the most appropriate time. Don’t get me wrong. Being with my mom was the best thing I ever did. However, the band was something I looked forward to before the day ended, just so I could get my mind off the situation at home. Besides, I was able to earn a living while I played with the band.

Keeping it to myself

But then, I just couldn’t bring my domestic concerns with me to band practice. None of my bandmates knew what the situation at home was. I kept everything to myself.  When were together, they never saw Buwi the caregiver. To them, I was Buwi the funny, energetic, and passionate bass player. Sometimes, when we were alone in my mom’s room, she’d ask me if I was getting tired of taking care of her. And every time,, I assured her that I would never grow tired and weary o f being her very own, “private nurse”. She never fussed about been sick, but there were times when I had to push her to eat her food, or chide her that she would overcome the disease and the pain and that she shouldn’t throw in the towel just yet.

Climb against the odds

Although my family had been caring for my mom for the past four years, what radically changed my life was when we joined the group of American Andrea Martin, founder and executive director to The Breast Cancer Fund, in their Climb Against The Odds! Mt. Fuji 2000. This time, it was just me and Mama. We left for Japan on August 17, 2000. For both of us, the climb was the ultimate high.

In spite of the physical weakness she was experiencing prior to the trip, her spirits were exceptionally high. She was determined to make the climb. But then, circumstance didn’t allow her to go all the way to the top. She was able to reach the 5th station of Mt Fiji though. Together with the team, I continued the climb and was able to fix the Philippine flag at the summit. But more than the thought that my mom and I had conquered Mt. Fuji on behalf of the other Filipino women with breast cancer, what really overwhelmed me was the feeling that I was with people – husbands, daughters, and sons of women with breast cancer – were individuals who I could talk to about how I felt, without me fearing that hey would not understand. There were people who were able to affirm me on what I was doing my mom. At that particular moment, I knew in my heart that I had chosen the right thing of devoting all my life to my mother.

The Final mile

Eventually, my mom came to the final lap race. One day, I chanced upon my parents holding hands, talking in whispers about how my mom was feeling exhausted, that she wanted to rest, I was so outraged that I couldn’t help but to ask, “Is this it?” Are you just giving up?” My mom looked at m e straight in the eyes, and I saw in hers that was ready to go. I felt so angry that just let the tears fall. It wasn’t long before the whole family was huddled together, our teas mingling, signifying the emotions we all shared that particular moment.

September 22, Friday, Papa and I were getting ready to got to the telethon at ABS-CBN. We were supposed to tag my two younger sisters along, but my mom requested that we leave them behind so they could watch the program on TV together. My sister Ami joined them a little later. In the wee hours of the morning, after the telethon, Papa and I went home, exhausted but somehow feeling accomplished that the breast cancer awareness campaign was finally in full swing we were having our late dinner when my sister Ami rushed out to the room and called us in. And we knew, Mama had chosen that moment, when my three sisters were all at her bedside, when the telethon was finally over, to draw her final breath.

Creative pain

The pain of losing my mother will always be etched in my heart. But then, I cannot let that pain eat me up. Instead, I’m using that pain to channel my energy into something worthwhile, like the Philippine Breast Cancer Network and the Rosa F. Meneses Foundation. Through these institutions, I want to be able to reach out for children, spouses and relatives of cancer patients and tell them that they are not alone in facing this great change and challenge in their young lives.

Salamat sa Kerygma

Pedro Calungsod was a young native of the Visayan region of Philippines. Very little is known about him. He was one of the boy catechists who went with the Spanish Jesuit missionaries from the Philippines to the Ladrones Islands in the western Pacific in 1668 to evangelize the Chamorros.

Life in the Ladrones was hard. The provisions for the mission did not arrive regularly; t he jungles were too thick to cross; the cliffs were very steep to climb, and the islands were frequently visited by devastating typhoons. Despite all these, the missionaries persevered, and the mission was blessed with many conversions. Subsequently, the islands were renamed “Marianas” by the missionaries in honor of the Blesses Virgin Mary and the Queen Regent of Spain, Maria Ana, who was the benefactress of that mission.

Spreading the news

But very soon, a Chinese quack named Choco, envious of the prestige that the missionaries were gaining among the Chamorros, started to spread the talk that the baptismal water of the missionaries was poisonous. And since some sickly Chamorro infants, who were baptized died, many believed the calumniator and eventually apostatized. The evil campaign of Choco was readily supported by some superstitious and immoral natives – the Macanjas and the Urritatos – who, along with   the apostolates, began persecuting the missionaries.

The Baptism

Them most unforgettable assault happened on April 2, 1672, the Saturday just before the Passion Sunday of that year. At around seven o’clock in the morning, Pedro, by then already about 17 years old, and the superior of the mission, Fr. Diego Luis de San Vitores, came to the village to Tomhom, on the island of Guam. There, they were told that a baby girl was recently born in the village, so they went to ask the child’s father, named Matapang was a Christian and a friend of the missionaries, but having apostatized, he angrily refused to have his baby baptized.

To give Matapang time to cool down, Fr. Diego and Pedro gathered the children and some adults of the village at the nearby shore and started chanting with them the truths of the Catholic Faith. They invited Matapang to join them, but the apostolate shouted back that he was angry with God and was already fed up with the Christian teachings.

Refused at First

Determined to kill the missionaries, Matapang went away and tried to enlist in his cause another villager, named Hirao, who was not a Christian. At first, Hirao refused, mindful of the kindness of the missionaries towards the natives. But when Matapang branded him a coward, the he got piqued and s he consented. Meanwhile, during that brief absence of Matapang from his hut, Fr. Diego and Pedro took the chance of baptizing the infant with the consent of the Christian mother.

Death of Pedro

When Matapang heard of the baptism, he became even more furious. He violently hurled spears, first at Pedro. The lad skirted the darting spear with remarkable dexterity. The witnesses said that Pedro had all the chances to escape because he was very agile, but he did not want to leave Fr. Diego alone. Those who knew Pedro personally believed that he would have defeated his fierce aggressors and would have freed both himself and Fr. Diego if only he had some weapons because he was a very valiant boy. But Fr. Diego never allowed his companions to carry arms. Finally, Pedro got hit by a spear in the chest and he fell to the ground. Hirao immediately charged towards him and finished him off with a blow of a cutlass on the head. Fr. Diego gave Pedro the sacramental absolution. After that, the assassins also killed Fr. Diego.

Threw them into the sea

Matapang took the crucifix of Fr. Diego and pounded it with a stone while blaspheming God. Then both assassins stropped the bodies of Pedro and Fr. Diego, dragged them to the edge of the shore, tied large stones to their feet, brought them a proa out to the sea and threw them into the deep. The remains of the martyrs were never to be found again.

“Fortunate youth” exclaimed the companion missionaries of Pedro when they learned of his death. “How well rewarded his four years of persevering service to God in the difficult mission are; he has become the precursor of our superior, Fr. Diego, in Heaven!” They remembered Pedro as a boy with very good disposition, a virtuous catechist, a faithful assistant and a good Christian whose perseverance in the Faith even to the point of martyrdom proved him to be a good soldier of Christ (cf 2 Tim 2:3).

Fr. Diego Luis de San Vitores was beatified in 1985. It was his beatification that brought the memory of Pedro Calungsod to our day.

Salamat sa CBCP Monitor

For some time we have been asked to put in Misyon a section on Questions which our readers would like raised. We are not too sure how appropriate our suitable this is so please let us know if these questions have been of any help to you. We are calling this article To Search is To Find because we do not have the answers to every question – but the very asking of the question is the beginning of the answer.

Misyon to China

Sometimes you have articles on priest going to China. I thought China was not open to missionaries.

Answer: China is not a present open to missionaries in the traditional sense. You cannot preach the Gospel there publicly by word of mouth. But China does allow Christians to wok there and is quite content of them to preach the Gospel by their lives. Indeed it is the most effective way to preach the Gospel though a much more difficult way. That is one of the ways the Church developed in the early times; look at these Christians, see how they love one another!

Father Shay Cullen

Fr. who runs the Olongapo Center for abused Children was recently accused himself of child abuse. What happen to the case?

Answer: Fr. Shay was completely cleared by the courts and by the Philippines government as he had also been cleared of many earlier cases which did not reach the papers as this case did. These cases were engineered by a group of pedophiles who resented the fact that Fr. Shay and his team had gone after hem in the   courts for abusing children. Fr Shay has won International awards for his work with children. You should visit his PREDA Center at Kalaklan in Olongapo.

OFWs and OCWs

You often cover the lives of overseas Filipino workers (OFWs) and overseas contract workers (OCWs) but each time you give a different figure for the number.

Answer: You are very observant and you are correct. The truth is no one knows the real number of Filipinos working abroad and we quote the figures from different government departments. Some departments give figures as high as seven million. Others around five million. One source of the discrepancy is that all OFWs are on contract and therefore cannot be called OCWs. We cover there stories in the hope that they will become missionaries and help bring the good news of His love. Indeed that is what they are doing all over the world.

Priests with problems

I have been told of two priests in our diocese who have a bad reputation with women and yet both are very high profile when it come to various demonstrations in the diocese. All the diocese is talking about them.

Answer: Priests are human beings with all the frailty of human beings but at is no reason to tolerate them abusing their position and talking advantage of young women. You must report this immediately to the diocesan bishop but make sure first hat you are not just depending on hearsay. It is the bishop’s obligation to help these priests to a change of heart and to help those they have abused. We should also help them. But changing parish or diocese is no the answer.

Born Again

You seem to have articles telling us to be ecumenical and open to other religion but the Born Again in our diocese use our ecumenical spirit to take advantage and gain converts. For example, we are invited to prayer meetings. But that leads on to attacks on the Virgin Mary and the Holy Father.

Answer: Sadly what you say is true, Filipino courtesy and the desire for interpersonal relationship push us to say yes to these people when at times we should be frank and ask some sharp question before joining such groups. But the Catholic Church is committed to being ecumenical especially with the Orthodox churches which hold most of our beliefs.

The Bible

Our teacher says that the early Church did not have the Bible. Is that true?

Answer: Yes, if one means the complete Bible. The early Church - the communities which group around the apostles after Resurrection – and the communities which descended from them had access to the Old Testament. But the Gospel s and letters were not yet written. And that was so right up to the third generation of Christians when the Gospel were finally set down. So the early Church depended on the word of their pastors and the memory of their fellow Christians to have access to the words of Jesus.

Misyon in Schools

Why don’t you send Misyon to schools? It could be used as a religious textbook

Answer: Many schools are taking Misyon already and have it as part of the curriculum. We also give a free teacher’s guide to those schools. If you are interested write to Fr. Donal O’Hanlon, St. Columban’s, 1857 Singalong. Tel. No. (02) 523-6238

Medjugorje Apparitions

Where does the Church stand on the claim of miracles at Medjugorje, Yugoslavia? Has the Holy See issued an official and final decision an official and final decision on the alleged apparitions there?

Answer: The Holy See does not usually issue decisions on reported apparitions. That responsibility belongs to the bishop in the region where the alleged appearances have taken place. In 1991, the Yugoslavian Bishop’s Conference declared by a vote of 19 to 1: On the basis of inquiries conducted up to the present time, one cannot affirm that we are dealing her with supernatural apparitions or revelations.”

By Bo Sanchez

Let me tell you a story.

Three construction workers were on top of their half-finished skyscraper. “Rrrrrrng!” the lunch bell sounded, and there tree men sat on a steel beam jutting out of the 56th floor with their lunch boxes in hand.

The first guy opens his and groans in exasperation, “Tuyo! There is not a day that I don’t get tuyo for a lunch!” He turns to his buddies and announces, “Mark my words. If I still get tuyo tomorrow, I’m going to throw myself from this building.”

The second guy opens his lunch box and moans, “Tinapa. Everyday, I get tinapa!” He looks at his friends and declares, “Believe me when I say this. If I get tinapa tomorrow, I’m going to jump and kill myself.”

The third guy opens his lunch box and it was his turn to despair. “Galunggong! All I get is galungong!” He looks to his co-workers and says, “I’m telling you, if I still get galunggong tomorrow, I’ m going to jump from this building and die.”

The next day, the lunch bell rings and all three men are again seated on the 56th floor.

The first guy opens his lunch box and starts crying, “Tuyooooooo!” And so he jumps and crashes of the ground. The second guy opens his lunch box and wails loudly, “Tinapaaaaaa!” and he also hurls himself off the building and dies. The third guy opens his lunch box and screams, “Galunggongggg!” and so he too jumps off the building and splatters on the ground.

Days later, during the funeral of the three men, their three wives embrace and weep together. The first wife cries out, “I didn’t know my husband didn’t like tuyo anymore! Why didn’t he tell me? if only he told me, I would have prepared something else.”

The second wife echoes her statement, “Yes! If only I knew, I would have cooked something else, not tinapa.” The third wife, between sobs, speak up, “I don’t know why my husband killed himself.” The two wives look at her curiously. “Why?”

She went on, “Because... my husband prepares his own lunch everyday....”

I love this crazy story because it presents a very important truth: all of us prepare our own lunch. If we don’t like our jobs, if we don’t like the stated of our relationships, if we don’t like what’s happening to our spiritual lives – we have no one to blame but ourselves.

Because God has given us free will. He has given us the power to prepare our own lunch. If you want to earn more and be free from debt, if you’re sick and tired of your bad habits, if you want to put more joy in your marriages, if we want to grow in our relationship with God – then go back to your kitchen and prepare yourself another dish.

Because you design your own future.

You create your own destiny.

Ask yourself: what kind of future do you want to have? What kind o f millennium? What kind of eternity

You decide.