By Bo Sanchez

“How are you, Philip?” I asked a friend one day.Philip retorted, “I’m fine. My son died in an accident, my house burned down, my wife ran away with another man, I lost my job last week and my doctor told me I have lung cancer. Aside from that, I’m okay.”

Philip is the model stoic. I’ve exaggerated his calamities to give you a picture of a wrong way of handling negative emotions; to deny them and cover up our pain. I'm not surprised that Philip has cancer. Why? Because any inner pain that we don’t allow ourselves to feel will manifest itself through tumors, hypertension, heart disease, muscle pains, ulcer. Because of this, I have a fascinating hunch: I bet that if I could only help people acknowledge and feel their hidden emotions of anger, fear, worry and grief, I‘d probably be able to remove 50% of their physical disease. Because our bodies are blueprints of our emotional life.

Sandra, on the other hand, is Philip opposite. “How are you Sandra?” I asked her one day. “Oh Bo, “she crumpled down on my shoulder, “I don’t know what to do with my life. Everyone hates me. No one loves me!” Do I cry with her? The first time, yes. But the eighty-sixth time? I’ve gotten used to her drama. Because every time I see Sandra she always breaks down in a river of tears. Only to find out that her world was about to end because of favorite shirt got damaged in the washing machine or her dog didn’t wag his tail at her!

The good news is that between Philip and Sandra, there’s a middle path: when we respect our negative emotions as friends, not monster; as teacher, not masters. Negative emotions are the windows of our soul – and they will teach us about who we are and what exactly we need from God. Simply put, emotions need to be felt. And then, unlike Sandra, you can let go. Because you cannot let go of what you have not held. There are no short cuts. You can’t go around them, over them or under them.

The only way is through the negative emotions. My suggestion is simple. Whenever you feel sad or lonely or depressed or angry or fearful don’t run away from it, cover it up with busyness or entertainment, or worse, silence the negative feeling with an addiction. (All addiction, whether to drink, food, bulimia, shopping or sex are an escape from feelings we don’t want to face.) My prescription: whenever you feel a negative emotion, be alone in a room and just sit down with it and feel it. Don’t judge it, criticize it, intellectualize it, explain it away. Allow yourself to feel the pain. It’s okay. Accompany it, breathe into it, and after a while, you’ll feel the anger or fear or saddened lose its urgency and power. Allow God to tenderly embrace you in your pain.

And then, at the right time, you can let go. When you get healed of 50% of your diseases, I’ll bill you.

Salamat sa Kerygma

By Fr. Pat O’ Donovan mssc

As a young boy I have fond memories of my grandparents. During my summer vacation I looked forward to staying with them and to the times they should stay with us. We did many things together, visiting neighbors and friends, working on the farm, going to the nearest town to do our shopping and to attend daily Mass. We enjoyed one another’s company going for a walk, playing cards in the evening and saying the rosary before going to bed.

Joy in serving the Mass

I attended the local Christian Brothers School in my hometown of Tipperary for elementary and high school. I was a member of the Knights o the Altar for five years. Her I enjoyed serving Mass especially on the week days. Whenever there was a funeral Mass in the morning, we were allowed time off from class. This used to really annoy our classmates who were not members of the Knights. Saturday were even better because of weddings; we received a little money for serving the Mass so we were eager to serve.

First inquiry letter

Growing up I was impressed with the priests of our parish with their dedication, service, prayer, friendliness and they way they worked together as a team. We subscribed to different missionary magazines in our home and one of them being the Far East magazine equivalent to Misyon. I enjoyed reading the different stories of the missionaries working in different stories of the missionaries working in different parts of the world. I wrote to Fr. P.J. Kelly who was one of the Vacation Directors for the Columban Fathers for some information on the Society. He wrote me back a very friendly letter encouraging me to pray for my vocation and telling me that he would pray for me also.

Vocation weekend

During my high school years the desire to become a missionary priest began to grow. I found the vocation literature I received from the Columbans helpful and I maintained my correspondence with the Vocation Directors during high school. My last two years of high school I attended the scheduled vocation weekends (Search-Ins) in Dalgan Park, the home of the Columban Fathers in Ireland. It was here that I met various Columbans young and old who were on vacation from different missionary countries. They shared with us at the Search-ins about their lives as Columban missionaries, working among people of different cultures and languages. I like very much the warmth, hospitality and humanness of the priest that I encountered. I learned more about how God calls a young person to priesthood, about commitment and service to people in another culture and belief. Moreover, about a spirit of love and service to one another. The priest assigned in Vocation Ministry came across as being interested in us, a group of young people who were on the vocation weekend.

Growing interest to become a missionary priest

The final year of high school was a time of searching. What will I do with my life after high school? One of the brothers, our principal, approached me several times asking me what I was going to do he was a very fine man and genuinely concerned for all of us graduates that year as he was for every year  before after us. The retreat was coming up at the “Holy Ghost Novitiate” (Spiritans) only a few miles from our home. I looked forward to it and to going to the place, a place were missionaries spent time during their formation. I remember speaking with Fr. McDonagh, CSSP during confession. I told him I was interested to become a missionary priest with the Columbans. He shared a little about his life as a missionary in Africa and encouraged me to join the Columbans.

Archbishop Thomas Morris’ sharing

Shortly after our retreat I attended a vocation vigil at Holy Cross Abbey, Thurles. This was an all night vigil of prayer for vocations organized by our diocese. Different priests, sisters, religious brothers and lay people were invited to speak about their way of life during the course of the evening. The atmosphere was very prayerful with chanting, singing and silence and silence throughout the night. I remember praying and asking God to guide me in following his will for me. At some stage during the night Archbishop Thomas Morris of our diocese appeared and gave a sharing on vocation. He spoke very warmly during his talk at one stage about a Columban friend. Bishop Cleary who was a bishop in China. At that time I felt happy as I listened to his sharing and I remember feeling that maybe God wants me to try for the Columbans. After graduating in high school I attended the final search-In for the Columbans. I decided to present my self as an applicant for the Formation Program. I filled up the application form, completed my medical exam and had my interview. I felt happy after doing all this and said now it was time and I was enjoying my vacation at home. Usually I had no problem passing the summer, as there was always plenty to do at home, painting and repairing. Halfway through the summer an official letter arrived from the Director of the Columbans Fathers in Ireland. I remember holding it in my hand, saying a prayer to the Lord and saying to Him, “If you want me to be a Columban it will happen and if you don’t I will try something else.” I opened the letter, read it and discovered to my joy that I had been accepted for the formation program in September 1981. I shared my joy with my family and they were happy for me and a little sad at the thought of I leaving at home.

New world in the Philippines

A  whole new world opened up for me in the formation years that followed with experiences of growing in relationship with God and prayer, understanding myself as a person, developing relationships with others, facing the challenges of academic studies, developing pastoral skill, working in a center for special education. In 1985 to 1987 I came to the Philippines as a seminarian for my Fist Missionary Assignment along with both my classmates. These two years provide the living experience of working among people in a new culture with a new language and gave us a deeper appreciation of our future life as Columban priests. After this experience I continued my studies in Theology, was ordained a deacon and served in the Columban parish of Ballymun, Ireland. I was ordained on February 11th 1990 in my home parish.

A happy Columban Vocation Coordinator

That same year I returned to the Philippines to take up my assignment in the Parish of Karomatan, Lanao Del Norte, Mindanao. These were happy and challenging years.

After serving for six years in parish ministry I was asked to become the vocation director for the Columbans in Mindanao for the next four years.  Once again these years were filled with challenge and adventure working with young people who were searching to follow God’s call in their vocation journey.

My present assignment is National Vocation Coordinator for the Columban Fathers in the Philippines. Working as a team in vocation ministry gives us the opportunity to journey with many young people in their search for God; to understand who they are and discover their calling in life. They young people we work with bless us and it is a joy to experience the life and energy among them. I am enjoying my life and work as a Columban Priest Missionary. I thank God for all the people whose presence has helped me to come to know Him and the Joy of serving in the Church today.

Growing up I was impressed with the priests of our parish wit their dedication, service, prayer, friendliness and they way they worked together as a team.

By Anabelle Badilla

When I was a kid I used to think that Christmas is as simple as exchanging gifts and hanging socks on the wall. The rest of the details like attending dawn Mass and yawning the whole time and helping my mother prepare the Noche Buena were as unexciting and ordinary as fixing my bed each morning. But one day in my adult life, I found out the real meaning of Christmas.

I was busy wrapping gifts for my family when I got a surprise call from my long lost friend, Alma, Alma and I were so excited to see each other and so eager  to share our many stories. We decided to meet down town, take out a Jollibee meal which we both still love all these years, and chat the night away at their house while feasting on our yummy Jolly hamburgers and French fries . We took a jeepney and began exchanging stories non-stop. But after awhile as I was sharing with her how happy I was to have my first salary raise, I noticed that she wasn’t paying attention to me anymore. She was staring at the old woman who was sitting across us. She looked really room and malnourished. Her wrinkled and unsmiling face told of the hardships she must have gone through. I thought, “Okay. She’s a poor old lady. Fine, “I mean, I have seen these same faces many times already and I don’t mind them anymore, especially now that I’m with my long lost friend.

Suddenly when we were about to get off, Alma handed our food to the old woman. I didn’t know what to say! I couldn’t wait to get to their home and grab my hamburger. I would have wanted to snatch the bag before she could even hand it to the old woman but when I saw the look in the old lady’s eyes I just froze. Her wrinkled and unsmiling face suddenly lit up as if she had seen an apparition. Her eyes turned misty and she gave us a toothless grin and said, “Thank you.

My sick daughter needs this.”

Deep inside me, something had sparked, I have heard so many definitions of the meaning of Christmas. Definitions which my simple mind couldn’t often comprehend. But this particular evening Christmas stared at me right in the face.

It’s as simple and as complicated as that.

This poem was composed by Fr. Aedan McGrath during his third Christmas in prison in China. He had no paper so he had to create the poem and memorize it immediately.

T’ was Caesar’s vanity that caused so much
Disturbance in their little home that day,
A soldier bidding them to have their names
Enrolled at Bethlehem with out delay.

To Joseph’s mild appeal for patience on
Behalf of Mary for her time was due,
No answer but the gruffest words to move
At once or bitter consequences rue.

There was no choice but leave that day and hope
To make their home again before the birth.
Thus Mary seated on an ass is led
By Joseph bearing things of little worth.

Anxiety was stamped upon his face
When they arrived one day in Bethelehem.
So crowded was that street that slender were
The chances of a vacant place for them.

If they were rich or well dressed ther would be
No douth about a place or even choice,
But being poor the only answer was
“No room” in a decided tone of voice.

A poor and sympathetic stranger, moved
By Mary’s beauty and apparent plight,
Suggested that outside the walls there was
A stable that might house them for the night.

A sign from Mary showing that it must
Be so, and even thus without delay,
Had prompted Joseph to proceed at once
To find it and the Will of God obey.

In truth was it a stable differing in nought
For mall they knew, with dusty walls
And muddy floor and dampness in the air
And oxen an a-munching in their stalls.
Poor Joseph did his best, with sinking heart,

To sweep those walls and cover floor with straw
And set about to find some branches dry
To let a fire dispel that dampness raw.
Returning to that hut he was amazed

To find not darkness as their was before,
But Light within that Crib wherein there lay

A Babe-with Mary kneeling to adore.
He dropped his sticks and knelt beside the cot
In silent adoration of the Child,
His God –Redeemer and his nation’s hope

Before him lay – so helpless and so mild.
The Shepherds of the Jewish race who heard
From Angels of the Child, and where to find,
Approaching offered gifts of tiny lambs
And bent their knees and reverent heads inclined.

Close followed by three Kings of Gentle Birth
Who had by God’s bright star been surely led,
And found the hut and offered precious gifts-
Thus paying royal tribute in our stead.

Ah, Jesus, born in direst poverty,
Without a sign of comfort e’er so slight.
I thank Thee for the Grace to spend three feasts
A little less unlike that Christmas night.

Misyon magazine covers many stories of action. But this is not an action story but a story of contemplation. A group of women who have chosen to serve God in silence and anonymity, in prayer and hidden works. These are the Augustinian Recollects of the contemplative life in Tangub, Bacolod, Neg. Occ. They have set up a house of prayer and reclusion so keeping up a tradition going back to the desert Fathers.

In the printing office the Sisters earn their living by down to earth hardwork

Taking a break from a hard day's work

You may write to: Sr. Maria Cruz Aznar, oar, St. Ezekiel Moreno Monastery, Tangub, Bacolod City

 

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

How Blind is Blind

Mr. Daniel Ayamga, who everybody says is blind, insists that I should build him a nice, one-room house. He had been bothering me for quite sometime. However because of lack of funds, it was just impossible. One time, I was reprimanding Ali Jara, my assistant. I was shouting so angrily that I that I frightened a parishioner who was about to enter the house but then began to run away. I suddenly realized that it was indeed none other than Mr. Ayamga, my ‘blind’ friend running away without his stick. He was not so blind after all.

Coins Galore

I collected all the coins from my previous Masses, and brought the money to Ghana Commercial Bank. The manager greeted me with a smile and said, “Good morning, Father! How may I help you?” “I’d like to deposit – P20 million cedis,” I replied. He was stunned. He knew he was going to spend the rest of the day counting the cedis which is equivalent to our five centavo coin.

The Better Girl

Evelyn Fosua, as her punishment for misbehaving in the classroom in Our Lady of Fatima Vocational School, was asked to fill up a long, deep and wide pot hole on the road to the school. Out of pity, I offered the car for help. While she and I were gathering stones, some children passed-by and to my surprise Fosua told them, “Come, Father said we should help him,” which they did. No wonder this young lady is being punished,” I told myself. Before I left I asked her why she was punished. She said because she told her teacher that she speaks English better than her.

Uninvited Guests

One Saturday I officiated a wedding in Wenchi. I didn’t see the altar boys in the reception. I thought the new couple forgot to invite them. The next day, during our monthly meeting, the altar boys bitterly complained that they were not invited at the reception. “That’s okay, we have snack later.” After our meeting, the boys went to the table and in seconds the food was gone. No wonder they weren’t invited at the reception.

By Sr. Teresita Perez, mm

A years back, while I was missioned in Peru, our doorbell rang at around 9 pm. When I opened the door, there was Cristina, a junior student in high school, looking very distraught and panting. “Sister,” she said, “I want to talk to you.” I invited her in to sit down and without much ado she said in Spanish: “I want to kill myself.”

“Bueno” I replied. "How do you plan to do it?” she did not quite expect my question, but she answered it without batting an eyelid. “I’m going to throw myself onto the train tracks and let passing train run over me!”

“And did you think about the engineer and his family after the train runs you over?” “No,” she said, without any expression, her eyes burrowing into mine. “You’d better thinks of that man because while you accomplish your goals others will suffer: the engineer will be thrown in jails and his family will starve to death.”

“Well, I think I’ll throw myself into the street and any vehicle can run over me.” "It’s the same story, Cristina. The driver in prison and his family starving and abandoned. Tell me what  really is the problem?”

She began to cry and sobbed inconsolably. I hugged her and let her cry her heart out. When she stopped crying she told me she had just found out that day that she came into world through a casual encounter between her father and her mother, each of whom had a spouse. She never knew anything about it because she was raised by her grandmother in the farm.

“Aren’t you lucky that you are alive?” I asked her. “Here you are, strong, healthy, a varsity basketball player and studying in good school.We can’t choose the people who give us life, but we do have a choice of what kind of life we’d like to have. You have a mission in this world,, Cristina. One that nobody can do for you. And only you can find what it is. You’re already in your third year in high school. You’re on the road to discovering your mission. Your life is in your hands and you can make it as good as you want. Put your hand in God’s and you can be sure that together you will find it. What do you want to be in the future?”

"A social worker,” she said, without hesitation.

“Then a social worker you shall be. You will be able to help so many others through their difficulties, because you’ve been there.” She had now calmed down entirely and I asked if she wanted me to pray over her. She nodded. I stood up and put  my hand on her head and prayed over her. Before she left we talked about forgiveness, especially of forgiveness for her father and mother. The next day she came to the  door with a huge wicker basket filled with newly harvested vegetables from her grandmother’s farm – cabbage, cucumbers, squash, onions, carrots, lettuce, beets: a two-week supply!

Ten years later I met Cristina accidentally on the street. Our eyes locked. I said softly, “Cristina?” her eyes smiled at me and she said, “Yes Sister. You remember me? I’m now a social worker.”

Salamat sa Revista Maryknoll

By Fr. Donal Halliden mssc

Arriving at O’ Hare International Airport in Chicago on a bitterly cold Winter’s day, I was warmly welcomed by a young Filipino woman who has become a very dear friend. I was pleasantly surprised when she conducted me to where she had parked her Volkswagen “Beetle” and which she then expertly drove trough the busy highways and streets of the “Windy City”. But I am getting ahead of my story...

SCA Leader

They young lady who welcomed me was Angelita Carandang Matick who had been an outstanding leader of Student Catholic Action (SCA) during my tern as chaplain at Centro Escolar University CEU in Manila. Lita Carandang had come from the nearby province of Batangas in 1964 to take up Medical Technology at CEU. Her leadership potential was evident from the beginning and this quickly blossomed in SCA so that she became president o that very active student organizations in 1966, the first to do so in her junior year.

Called to Chicago

After college graduation in 1968, she received an internship call from the Little Company of Mary hospital in Chicago. Her dedication and leadership skills came to the fore again and she was soon appointed assistant head of the hospital laboratory. It was at the hospital that Lita met her future husband, a young medical intern named Henry Matick. After their marriage, Henry continued his studies, specializing in Neurology. Lita, meanwhile, stayed on at the hospital laboratory for some years until their family began to grow. She then stopped working in order to devote herself being a full-time mother.

Lita’s Taxi

Lita and   Henry both wanted to have a large family eventually they had eight children. Oftentimes when Lita was in the hospital for the birth child, suggestions were made that she have herself sterilized. But with her strong faith and the support of her husband, she firmly resisted these importunities. Eventually, in 1994, the family grew to nine children when they adopted an abandoned newborn baby that Lita learned about while on a visit home to Batangas. Little Maria is blessed to have such wonderful parents and the family blessed to have her. And the mother of that great brood has replaced her little “Beetle” with a large station wagon with which she ferries the kids to their schools and to their many extra-curricular activities. She calls it Lita’s taxi!

‘Dr. Farmer’

Dr. Henry Matick loves to farm and once told me he should have been a farmer! He and the family had settled in the small railroad town of Vincennes, Indiana where they brought a farm outside the town. One my last visit there a few years ago they were sowing 50, 000 tomato plants. There are organically grew and much in demand from local markets and restaurants. The farm has surely been a great help in rearing such a large family although at the moment, due to local circumstances, it is being leased to some neighboring farmers. The good doctor himself has a very active practice in the town and its hospital, having gone there in response to an urgent plea from local medical practitioners to have him as a resident neurologist.

Woman of faith

Lita is a woman of deep faith, and is deeply conscious that this is due to the graces showered on her by God whom she has learned to love with all her heart and soul.  She speaks of SCA as “the fertile ground which helped me establish my priorities in life, placing God first, then family and studies in a way that I was able to achieve a well-rounded and balanced student life.

Taking her role in the community

Not surprisingly, Lita has continued in the U.S. the active apostolate she started in SCA at CEU. On my first visit in Chicago, she introduced me to her Bible study-prayer group in their Brookfield suburb. Them members were mostly young housewives, several of them non-Catholic, and all accepted her as their respected leader. Today in Vincennes, in spite of her heavy family responsibilities, she is still very close to the Church and active in Pro-life, Eucharistic ministry to the sick and youth guidance. Best of all, Lita is passing on leadership gifts to her young family who take an active role in promoting Christian values in the schools and in the community.

In a recent letter, Lita says that she finds life “manageable in spite of daily challenges in raising many children (particularly the teenagers!). Our merciful God helps us meet the demands of living in this very secular and materialistic society, so different from my upbringing and environment”. Indeed because of this background, Lita today makes a difference.

By Anton Meemana

The author is a personal friend of the Editor and wrote this at his request. At present the author is a lay evangelist who sees forgiveness as the heart of Christianity - as he says “The world will be saved by forgiveness.”

I come from a Buddhist country. I spent my earliest childhood in a barrio in which the majority were Buddhists. There were also some Muslims and a very few Catholics. The religious tradition most people practiced was a hybrid of Hinduism and Buddhism with a lot of indigenous beliefs and practices. In our clan I had both Buddhist and Catholic relatives. My paternal grandfather was a Buddhist while my paternal grandmother a Catholic. From early on I was exposed to both religious traditions. Up to now I have vivid memories of Buddhist festivals and practices.

Theory of Evolution

At high school, the theory of evolution of Darwin had a great attraction for me. In fact, I was so fascinated wit ht that I immediately dropped all religious notions. I had about God and His Creation. And I quite happily declared to my father that I was an atheist and that God did not exist. He, shocked and angry, declared that the world has no future if a young boy at my age denies that existence of God. I was then 13.

Che Guevarra

Eventually through the influence of one of my teachers I was initiated into Marxism. I was then 14 and started attending the Marxist – Leninist educational classes. Karl Marx and V.I. Lenin became the two dominant figures in my life. My emotional attraction, however, was towards Fidel Castro and Ernesto Che Guevara. Che was a hero, a role model to me. I seriously fantasized that one day I was going to be a great leader like him in Sri Lanka under a communist regime.

True Believer

So I began studying, discussing and propagating Marxism. Although I continued schooling I had already lost my interests in classroom studies. What was more important was the upcoming revolution. I looked up to the leader of our political group. To me, he was the most learned and the most committed leader Sri Lanka ever had. My faith in him was unshakable. I angrily confronted people who criticized him.

Political Turmoil

From 1987-1989 was the height of political unrest in Southern Sri Lanka. During this time I started publishing an anti-government magazine. I also published anti –government articles in other newspapers and magazine conferences and seminars against the regime.

Reign of Terror

In 1989, the Sri Lankan government intensified what they called their “counter terrorist” attacks on our groups. I had to flee my hometown and started moving from one place to another in order to avoid being caught by the military. It was the height of terror in Southern Sri Lanka. Every day I could see dead bodies along the roads; tortured beheaded, half-burned, mutilated human bodies. Sometimes they were floating in the rivers. The probability of getting killed was very high. I really was waiting my death. I thought that at any moment I would get killed. It was an intense period of mental agony and ceaseless anxiety.

A place to Hide

Quite unexpectedly, one day in a public bus I chanced upon a nun with whom I became friendly. I think I was so desperate for some help. I explained to her my predicament and sure enough she provided me with some place to hide. But when hiding was getting difficult she had to look for a permanent solution. Meanwhile I tried to convert her to my own ideology by attacking the Catholic.

Escape abroad

One day she asked me whether I would like to go abroad. Flatly I said no. I also said that I wanted to continue the armed struggle. After some weeks she asked me the same question again. By this time I was tired of hiding and also felt that I was becoming a burden to her, though she never complained a about it. So I asked her “Which country?” She answered, “The Philippines.” I paused for a moment and said, “Yes”, because I had heard of the NPA. I had my own agenda for going. Everything happened so quickly. She was able to get three priests to escort me to the Colombo International Airport since she had some fear that I would get arrested at the airport. She also gathered the support of some of her influential friends for my safe departure.

Philippines

That is how I landed in the Philippines in 1989. But when I stepped out of the plane in Manila I regretted my decision. Manila was such a huge place and I was at a loss. I did not know even a single Filipino when I came here. In fact I had never seen a Filipino in my life before.  I had only $250 dollars with me. It was a do or die situation. I had no choice but to adjust. Eventually I was able to get in touch with some NGOs, individuals and institutes. True to my dream, I also got involved with some radical political groups and became quite familiar with the Philippines political scene. I receive some support from these groups for my daily survival. And at the same time I did a number of odd jobs such as janitor, messenger, cook, gardener, security guard, librarian, balot vendor, part-time teacher, sales agent, in order to support myself. I held on to my Marxist convictions and met a lot of political activists. I also became active with a Palestinian student group in Manila that was affiliated with the PLO (Palestinian Liberation Organization activists from other radical groups, especially the Marxist wing.

Pro-violence

I had this fascination with political extremists and revolutionaries. I always wanted to become one myself. I always wanted to commit myself to something intensely, passionately. I did not mind death. There was a time I wanted to kill, destroy, annihilate, wipe out, burn out, slaughter and die in the process as a hero to the people. I had a kind of messianic complex, I realize now. I believed in political violence as a necessary means to achieve social change. I advocated, justified, glorified violence and argued in favour of it and celebrated such triumphs whenever and wherever it occurred, be it in Israel, Rome, Afghanistan, Iran Iraq, Philippines, Sri Lanka, or the Soviet Union. In fact I still remember how happy I was when I learnt about the shooting Pope John Paul II by Ali Agca. I even told my Marxist friends “Very good, we should get rid of this Polish bastard”. I knew that this pope was very critical of communist regimes in Europe and for that I had a very low regard for him. In my view, whoever was against communism was an enemy of humanity. For me, to be human was to be communist. If there was something I was absolutely certain of, it was the infallibility of Marxist-Communist: it was the truth about human destiny.

St. Francis

In 1992 I went to Cebu to wok as a volunteer with political detainees. One day in a meeting I chanced upon a prayer by St. Francis of Assisi: Make Me an Instrument of Your Peace. When I read it for the first time I couldn’t believer that such a magnetic prayer had ever existed on earth. Although I was not convinced about the part in it about God, I was deeply touched by the overall meaning of the prayer. I kept a copy of the prayer with me looking at it from time to time.

There was another incident. From a book sale, one time, I bought some books at a very cheap price. Among them was a book of Fr. Teihard de Chardin. Although I could not understand everything in it. I was fascinated by his ideas and concepts. To my rationalistic and atheistic mind, his writings had an appeal, somehow. During the same time I borrowed a book on politics (Interview with History by Oriana Palaci) in which there was an interview with Archbishop Dom Helder Camara. Actually I borrowed this book in order to read about Yasser Arafat. I was very impressed by Camara’s brilliant exposition of Christianity and social change. I was absolutely stunned when he said, “Jesus is like a personal friend to me...” How could that be? It was a revelation to me that there are some people who consider Jesus a personal friend. I knew a lot about Christianity but it was my first time to hear the phrase “personal friend”. It made me think. Had I heard from an evangelist or any other preacher I would have shrugged my shoulders but I knew Archbishop Camara was very socially committed and not an armchair preacher His word had the ring of authority.

Burnt out

While all these things were happening. I was undergoing a deep personal crisis. I was losing my passion for revolution and felt dry, burnt out, lifeless. I was running out of fire and confused. I came under attack from my Marxist friends for becoming lukewarm, neutral, compromising. I was even called a “renegade” by some Marxists.

Despair sets in I was beginning to have guilt feeling, since some of my friends got killed as activists in Sri Lanka. I felt like a traitor, a deserter. I tried to commit suicide several times. This trend is in my family. We have three suicides cases in my family and one suicide survivor. Out of despair I started drinking heavily, frequenting nightclubs and having casual relationships. My life was becoming a mess, a bloody mess. This time I was also homeless and jobless. I slept wherever I happened to be and ate whatever I got. For survival I started I started stealing and shoplifting.

There was also a time I had a relationship with a married woman. I even had a live-in relationship with a woman who got pregnant. By manipulating her mind I convinced her to undergo abortion. By this time I was gradually distancing myself from political activism. Confused, burn out, dry, I was longing, searching, groping for something to hold on to.

Maryhill School of Theology

I wandered from group to group searching and after some time upon the encouragement of a friend of mine I enrolled at Maryhill School of Theology. Partly out of curiosity about Theology and partly to keep myself busy. One reason was also that I could afford the tuition fees then, eventually I also enrolled at the Institute of Information and Religious Studies. Now I think it was the right decision. I came to know a lot of seminarians and sisters. After some initial intellectual struggles, most of my biases and misunderstandings were clarified. Issues such as prayer life, sacraments and liturgy became clearer. It took me a long time to understand the meaning of the Holy Mass. Most of my doubts vanished specially after listening to Fr. Brendan Lovett’s lectures on Sacraments and Liturgy.

After five years of studies I started committing myself more and more with church groups. With the help of some priests and nuns immersed myself completely in the Catholic Church. Today I am not a member of any political group or party or affiliation. I have only one loyalty, that is to Jesus Christ and his Church. To be a catholic for me is the most meaningful life I could live. To be human is for me to be Catholic. Roman Catholicism is my home. I want to live and die a Catholic. I see Christianity as the future of humanity.

Every day I could see dead bodies along the roads, tortured, beheaded, half-burned, mutilated human bodies.

By Sr. Grace Gerong osf

Sr. Gerong knew long before that she had the calling.  However, as the eldest daughter, she helped her parents first in sending her younger brothers to school before she heeded God’s call. When she was ready to leave home, she packed her bag, she said goodbye to her supportive family, and joined the Sister of St. Francis of Perpetual Adoration. She is now in Ople, Germany.

Sr. Grace Gerong osf

I grew up in a home where prayer life is a priority. Rosary was said everyday. My mother was Marian devotion which we observed as a family, too. This was reinforced when I went to high school and college at St. Joseph College in the town of Maasin. Benedictine Sisters, mostly German, had all my religion, biology, geometry and English classes.

Daily Mass attendance became part of my life when I was in second year high school. My younger brother, Rafael, who was a freshman in high school, was a member of the Knights of the Altar. He had to serve morning Masses. As his companion, we used to wake up at four o’clock in the morning to catch the early Sogo-bound bus that drove from Ichon, Macrohon to Maasin to collect passengers. If we reached the church early we helped in opening windows and dusting the pews. Luckily, my brother was served breakfast by the Benedictine Sisters. But most of the time when the store were still closed, my snack during recess time was also my breakfast.

Religious interest

Sister Veronica Origenes, OSB was the first one to know about my interest in religious life. She asked me regarding my future plans before my high school graduation. At that time, my brother Rafael, who expressed the desire to be a Benedictine monk, was then in San Beda College, Manila. Sr. Veronica’s brother was also in the community.

First Christmas away from home

When I was a college sophomore, the Benedictine Sisters arranged that I could join a retreat for prospective Benedictine candidates in St. Scholastica’s College, Manila during the Christmas break. I would travel with two girls from Lapu-Lapu City. It meant leaving home before Christmas. My father took me to the Sister’s convent in that city where I joined my companions. After goodbyes were said, my father walked away fast and never looked back. During the mid-night Mass, I cried. That was my first Christmas away from home.

I failed the test

The retreatants came from all over the country and mostly from the Benedictine schools exclusives fro girls. With my rural orientation, I probably looked and acted like a fish out of water. The two-day oral interviews and written exams that followed the retreat were alien to me. I failed the tests to qualify for the Liberal Arts course, the candidacy program in St. Scholastica’s College. My being thin and small raised doubts on my capability, too. Well, born 5 lbs, with poor nourishment during the war and irregular meals as a student, what cold one expect? The recommendation was to finish my college course at St. Joseph’s College. Perhaps, to put some more weight on my 80 lbs. frame, I was asked to live at the Sisters convent with t tree other working students. There I learned to eat what was served.

It was at this stage that I saw the newly arrived American OSF pioneers stationed at the Franciscan College of Immaculate Conception, Leyte, they were in Maasin to have their retreat. However, after the manila episode I began to doubt if religious life was for me. Although I continued to pray that if to be a religious was my vocation that I would be given a sign.

Family obligation first

When I finished the secondary teaching course and passed the government exams, I secured a teaching position in English, Math, and Religion at St. Joseph’s College. As the eldest of two girls and four boys, my father requested that I would help the family at least for three years. This I did and supported my brothers, Melchor and Roselio, who were at the seminary for the Missionaries of the Sacred Heart in Cebu. A monthly pay of P189.00 – P210.00 at that time could go far.

Three years later, on my 24th birthday, without a reminder, my father announced to my friends that I could already freely follow my future plans. Possibly, he thought that I was considering marriage especially that I already decided to stay a regular boarding house. Meantime, all my brothers left the seminaries for different reasons.

My Turn

At this point I again started to seriously consider religious life. it was but rational to try religious life first before marriage. From fellow teachers who frequented FCIC, I learned more about the OSF Sisters and whom to contact if interested. My friends assisted me in the planning. One had to continue to pay my insurance premiums for three months after my entrance. Then my insurance after reaching the maturity of at least three years could be withdrawn and the amount could be used for my dowry. Another friend went to the seminary to clear the remaining financial obligations of my brother. A third one assisted me in securing the requirements especially the medical tests in Tacloban. I talked with my brothers and explained to them that it was my turn to go after they had tried. My parents who had no objections were the last ones to know my plan.

Messiah complex

It has been thirty-one years since Sr. Denise interviewed me and patiently related the life of St. Francis of Assisi of whom I was totally ignorant. I am grateful to my family who has been outstanding in supporting me. Once I learned of some family financial problems and offered to return home to help out but my father wrote: You have made the decision and you remain there. This is my family and it is my responsibility to solve the problems. Besides, before you were born I had problems which I solved without you. That ended my Messiah complex.

There are times that I miss home and the life in the Philippines but as His servant, following His will is all that matters to me. And he has kept His promise. For so little that I have given up, he has showered me with so much. I had that lonely tearful Christmas away from home once and He showered me a lifetime of wonderful Christmases in this lovely, faraway land. Indeed, it was worth the tears.

“Lord, help me accept the stages of life as you plan. Thank you for this season in my life and help me enjoy it to the full.”

Laborers from India were brought in to Fiji in 19th century by the British who colonized this country. The British wanted to grow sugarcane. Since Fijian were not willing to do this backbreaking work, they had to import laborers from Indian laborers settled between the Fijians and the Indo-Fijians. Six Filipino Columban Lay Missionaries are now in Fiji. As they celebrate their second Christmas in this faraway land, let us pray that they may bring peaceful Christmases to this divided paradise.

Jennifer Chan

I was christened on the Feast Day of the Immaculate Conception. The fifth in a brood of nine. I grew up in a happy environment, constantly surrounded by people. I consider my college years as the best in my 26 years. I relished the freedom, independence and the romance of youth! But now, as a Columban Lay Missionary in Fiji, I feel really blessed. I am here because I know I have something to share – my faith, my culture, and my own person. Fiji has captured my heart. It won’t be difficult to call it home for the next three years.

Ma. Cynthia Empleo

I was raised in the central plains of Luzon where rice is grown and coconut oil is produced. I finished my degree in Bachelor of Science and Education in Aquinas University at the foot of the magnificent Mayon Volcano, famous for its perfect cone. I had worked in Manila with an Environmental Group of Companies and spent my free days helping in the Parish of Our Lady of the abandoned run by the Missionary Society of the Philippines.

Fiji is a challenging mission area especially on faith dialogue and the marginalized. The Fijians are proud of their culture and were able to preserve it, something I admire in them. On the other hand, the Indo-Fijians have contributed a lot to the country’s economy through their being hardworking and industrious. To see the Fijians and the Indo-Fijians fighting is like a dagger in my heart. I pray that someday they see the light of living together peacefully in this Paradise of the Pacific.

Rowena Cuanico

I come from a small family: my parents, my only brother and I. I had worked in development planning, communication as well as in helping the poor. Becoming a lay missionary was the biggest decision I have ever made in my life. It opened a whole new world for me in terms of my relationship with God, with others and with myself.

I am fascinated at the richness and uniqueness of the Fijian culture. I find the people very warm and friendly. Some things are familiar: the sea, the coconut trees. They remind me so much of home. When I think of the Fijian lay missionaries currently serving in the Philippines, and us here, Filipinos serving in Fiji, I realize just how generous God is for allowing us to experience Him through other cultures, other people, other paradise. In my three years here, I hope to be able to show to the Fijians my own experience of God’s love.

Elizabeth Ordonio

I am the youngest in our family. Before I decided to join the Columban Lay Mission Program I was working with the National Commission on Indigenous Peoples. It is a joy to see the paradise of the Pacific as Fiji is commonly called and also to share the gift of life God has given me-my culture, my faith and my being a Filipino. I find the people of Fiji very friendly, generous and kind.  I have listened to them share their stories about their lives and their struggles which often breaks my heart. I cannot promise them anything but my own self and pray that my presence here will make a difference.

Elizabeth Briones

I am from the northern part of the Philippines, Baguio City, the summer capital of our country. I’m a Chemical Engineer by profession and have worked for Colgate-Palmolive Philippines Inc. as quality control laboratory analyst for three years and Quality Control Supervisor for your years in Uniden Philippines.

My being here in Fiji brought me back to the roots of my being, of my own origin and people – the Filipino people. A feeling of sadness overcame me when I realized that I had lost my own sense of culture and tradition and that the other tribal Filipinos are slowly losing theirs. I have become more aware of this reality when I attended several Fijian celebrations and experienced how they integrate their culture in the liturgy and in the feasts. I marvel and appreciate at how they kept their tradition alive and preserved it up to the present so that even young children know it. I’m impressed too with their sense of community and sharing; it deepens my missionary calling to be with others and share Christ and myself with them. Same goes with the Indians. Their culture is still intact and preserved and I admire their perseverance and their being hardworking; I respect their being reserved . The paradox though of having both cultures preserved is that it has caused division which I really feel sorry and sad about. But I am hopeful and challenged to be an an instrument of God’s peace and reconciliation.

By Gee-Gee O. Torres, assistant editor

In the famous confession of St. Augustine, “My heart is restless until it rests in Thee”, Augustinian Fathers Arlon Vergara and Adam Lasmarias realize the restlessness of their own hearts. Here I tell you how they find peace and serenity in the mountains of Kangwha, far away from the bustling city of Seoul.

Fr. Arlon Vergara, from Bicol, arrived in Korea in 1993. He was the first Filipino Augustinian missionary to be sent there. His superior asked him what apostolate would he like to be involved in: formation or parish work? He chose parish work. “Parish work for me is the actualization of being a priest because I am able to use all the faculties I learned in sharing the Good News.” In 1999 he was given his first parish assignment in Onsuri, one of the parishes in Kangwhado Island.

Jack-of-all-trade

Normally in a Korean parish there are two office staff and two religious sisters to help the priest in running the parish. But when Fr. Arlon started out in Onsuri he was jack-of-all-trade. During that time the community couldn’t financially afford to support the staff. Needless to say it was difficult, but with a very supportive community Fr. Arlon couldn’t asked for more. His active parishioners were always involved in any of their church activities. One of the projects he initiated was the putting up of a beautiful Stations of the Cross at the hills at the back of their church.

Attraction to trivial things

Fr. Arlon misses home, too. “In my missionary journey there are lots of obstacles and difficulties along the way. Sometimes I’m even tempted to go back home because of convenience and comfort – I need not worry to adjust to another culture and learn a new language, I need not cook, clean and even wash my own clothes. With all these I realize that the cause of my restlessness is personal attraction to trivial things. I believe that what is important is to seek refuge first in Him, who have promised to provide everything we need. Therefore my personal view of mission is not a work for God but primarily the work of God. I am just His instrument to spread the Good News for those who do not hear God’s message yet”

Fr. Adam Bede Lasmarias in from Bais City, Negros Oriental. Since the opening of their Augustinian mission in Korea he has expressed his interest to go on mission in Korea like Fr. Arlon. And in 1994 three years after his ordination to priesthood he was sent to Korea. After almost four years he left t\for England to study Spiritual Counseling in preparation for his present assignment as Formator.

The Korean Language

Fr. Adam stressed to me the importance of learning the Korean Language. He found his first few months in Korea very stressful. Often he had stomach trouble and muscle pain. He realized later on that it must be because of the pressure of learning the language. “Even in conversation,” he said, “my mind was unconsciously working on the grammar and the vocabulary at the same time. Somehow I lost confidence in myself because I dint have the command of language. But now that I can speak their language well, I have gained friends and this has helped me a lot in bringing me back the confidence I lost. This has also helped me in building relationships and rapport with the people. It’s not easy though. Most of the Koreans believe in Confucianism where they highly regard respect and deference to hose in positions of authority. In the Philippines it is easy to make friends with anybody he her or she elderly or young age, religious or not. Single or married. But in Korea social hierarchy matters.”

Pinoy Association

In 1993 our missionaries got together and set-up the Catholic Association of Filipino Missionaries in Korea. Fr. Willy Jesena of the Redemptorist Fathers was elected president. And this year we have Fr. Arlon and Maryknoll Sr. Norie Mojado, heading the association. They have a quarterly newsletter called Yoboseyo, meaning hello, which keeps the missionaries in touch with each other. Every season they get-together to take a break from their various work. The association serves as a support group which our Filipino missionaries could always count on.

Emptiness in my heart

A few years ago when a close relative of Fr. Adam passed away he felt sand and helpless. He really wanted to attend the funeral but he couldn’t. “I felt an emptiness in my heart because I wasn’t able to pay last respect to my cousin and mourn with the family.” True, it is sad that he wasn’t able to attend the funeral of his cousin. However he believes that his cousin has gone no further from us that to God and God is very near.

Indeed living away from home is difficult for missionaries like Fr. Arlon and Fr. Adam. Let us keep them in our prayer as they follow the footsteps of St. Augustine and find their way into the restless hearts of the People of Korea, in the Land of the Hermit Kingdom.

Edited by Sean Hogan

Father Aedan McGrath, died on December 25th 2000, aged 94, had been a Columban priest for 71 years and was imprisoned by the Chinese for nearly three years in 1951. In his later life he did wonderful work in the Philippines going around all the islands even in his nineties and strengthening the Legion of Mary which was his first love. He also organized many lay missionaries called Incolae who went from the Philippines to Oceania. Up to his mid-nineties he was still playing a good game of golf. (Ed)

He joined the Columban Fathers and was ordained in 1929. Six months later he was sent to Hanyang in China. “I was there just in time for the flood. The Yangtze and the Han Rivers met and overflowed. Millions of people drowned. For six months, there was 16 feet of water in the house where I was staying. We had to live upstairs.”

A straw hut and 24 missions

Following a couple of years around Hanyang, he was sent to T’sein Kiang, where he lived with the Buddhist family. “There were three generations: a grandfather, three sons and twenty grandchildren. They had pickle factory. Life was simple.”

He had 24 missions spread out over a wide area. “I spent three days in each mission, staying in a straw hut. I brought my own blanket. There were no roads or buses. I walked.”

Legion of Mary handbook

When he asked from another priest to assist him he was sent a copy of the handbook of the Legion of Mary. “I called in six men with no particular qualifications. I did not think it would work; I intended to give the book back to the bishop failed. To my utter amazement, those men were able to do many things that I could not do.”

Saved by Loretta Young

In 1939, during “the rape of Nanjing”, 4, 000 Japanese soldiers arrived. “The women ran to me looking for protection. I was supposed to keep the Japanese army out. God directed me to one particular soldier. We started talking about movies. He asked me if I like Loretta Young and I said, ‘She a personal friend of mine. I had met her in Hollywood.’ He was very excited to learn that I knew his love in Hollywood. He wrote something and sealed it and put it on the door. The soldiers all saluted and stayed away. The women stayed wit home for six months. They were all baptized in that time.”

Wider mission after expulsion

He was expelled for two years because Eamon de Valera the President of the League of Nations – accused the Japanese of trespassing when they went into Manchuria. “When I was allowed back, I expected to find nothing . instead, the parish was working perfectly without me. The Legion of Mary had kept everything going, baptizing the babies, instructing the children, performing marriages.”

Following a visit to Dublin in 1946, he returned and was instructed to start the Legion all over China. Within half-an-hour, the first praesidium was formed in what was probably the most sophisticated university in China at the same time in Shanghai. “From Shanghai, I went to central China, Hankow, and did the same. Then up to Beijing. Within two years we had 2, 000 magnificent groups.”

“The work was not lost on Mao Zedong. He sent out people to search and find how the church was still alive. He called the Legion public enemy number one.”

Arrested for his faith

Father McGrath, whose work in China has been told in Enemies Without Guns by James Myers, was arrested by the Chinese in September 1951 and remained in jail for two years and eight months. He was expelled in April 1954. I was put in a tiny cell, like a dog box. It was solitary confinement for three years. There was no table, chair or bed. I could lie on the floor. I was never allowed to close my eyes, talk, or sneeze.” Aedan McGrath attributed his survival to his Columban formation, which hand taught him how to meditate.

Home to Dublin

On his release he returned to Dublin and a huge reception in the National Stadium attended by President Seán T. O’ Ceallaigh, Eamon de Valera, John A Costello and the Legion founder, Frank Duff.

In 1955, he worked with Irish emigrants In England and I 1966 traveled to the USA and Canada to work full-time for the Legion of Mary. He went to the Far East in 1977 to speak about Legion, traveling through Japan, South Korea, Indonesia, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong and Taiwan.

And now off the Philippines

Shortly before his death in 1980, Duff asked Aedan McGrath  to go to the Philippines. So, now in his 70s, he headed for the Philippines, where he was still working up to the time of his death. Countless Legion branches were established – in one Jesuit-run university there are 19 branches.

Platinum Jubilarian

Small in stature, Aedan McGrath possessed extraordinary vitality. He had a tremendous capacity for friendship and still enjoyed a game of golf. In August 1999, a celebration for Columban jubilarians was held at Dalgan Park. The homilist was the platinum jubilarian, Aedan McGrath, who earlier had remarked to a friend: “I think you will have to call me a platinum blonde.