By: Fr. Melanio Viuya, Jr., CICM

Melanio Viuya was born in Tarlac, Tarlac. He joined the CICM’s and studied in Baguio and Quezon City. In this article he tells us about his mission work in Zaire as he prepares for his ordination. The strange thing is though Zaire is a fabulous wealthy country, Melanio has a different story to tell. The question is why so much poverty amidst so much wealth and what has the gospel has to say?

 For one reason or the other, despite the fact that I have already been here for several weeks now, it’s my first time to participate in the Sunday Eucharistic celebration.  I have been attending the daily mass at 5:30 in the morning. We start the mass amid the darkness with two flickering timid lights of candles and we end the daily celebration with the triumphant lights of the sun. Once I commented to the assistant parish priest: “People seem to be not enthusiastic in responding during the mass.” He agreed. People whisper their response as if ashamed to proclaim their faith. During these daily masses I have already noticed that people come in their soiled and old clothes. Some are even almost naked. One of the sacristans serves barefooted.

No Clothes
Today is Sunday, I told myself, it will be different! It’s the day of the Lord! Well, I spoke too soon. Why should Sunday be different to any other day? I should have expected that! Gone were the days when people went to mass in their best clothes. I was even told that many people went to mass no longer go to mass for lack of any clothes to wear. Then, I should have been more appreciative of these people who summon all their courage to be at the mass despite their old clothes.

A Requiem Mass
Today is Sunday. It’s the day of the Risen Lord. Early this morning I was singing the Halleluiah. I always get a kick out of that.  However, when I was already in the Church, with the mass proceeding so slowly, I wondered if I was right to start the day with the great Halleluiah. I wondered if it was not more fitting to sing “Were you there when they Crucified My  Lord” or “Stabat Mater” or “Into Thy Hands I Commend My Spirit”?  Yes, this mass appears to me as a requiem mass.  It’s as if we are lamenting the sorry state of the country; the great unbelievable impoverishment of the people. The singing of the choir did not improve things. It even added to the sorrowful and almost spiritless atmosphere of the celebration. Sorry for the expression but the way the choir sang was as if they skipped several meals. And maybe they did!

Eating Caterpillars
Today is Sunday. And it is on this day of the Risen Lord that I was made more aware of the pitiful plight of these people in this lost corner of the world. This is the parish of Yakamba which belongs to the diocese of Badjala in the north-west of Zaire, to the west is the French Congo while to the north is the Central republic of Africa. People feed themselves with the products of their fields; cassava, corn, banana and other green leafy vegetables and with fish from the rivers; wild animals and caterpillars of the forest. Given that, food seems not to be a problem. However, it is! For one thing, salt hardly reaches this place. That explains the astronomical rise of goiter patients. Yet more acute is the problem of clothes, medicines, school supplies and other processed products. There are two schools here, one for the boys and the other for the girls. Both are dilapidated and are in the process of decay unless they are repaired.

Fertile Forest
In this very fertile forest, are spread several plantations of coffee and cassava. In other places, I was informed people used to cultivate cotton. All these are abandoned now, left unattended. The sharp fall of prices is one reason, the main reason is the problem of transporting these products to the capital. Aside from the lack of transportation, the roads are in a state of progressive deterioration. Nothing is being done at this level. If this continues, I’m afraid even the neighboring villages will be isolated not only from the capital but also from one another. A beast of burden is non-existent here. If there are no vehicles the only other option is to do it on foot.

No More Hope
My older confreres note that people are tired physically and psychologically because of the failure of the government in all aspects of life. They are in total confusion! There seems to be no hope.

During Offertory
However, today is Sunday. It’s the day of the Lord. And today I saw a ray of hope while attending to what seems to me a requiem Mass. During the offertory, very few people line up around. Inspite of their poverty (should I say misery?) people at least some of them, are still able to offer something. Some mothers offered squash, corn, rice, vegetables. If ever there are those who gave cash, they are really very few and the amount very small. I was told that all these offering will be distributed to the poorest families in the parish. Now surely that is enough reason to sing Handle’s Alleluiah? Truly, I said, the Good Friday always leads to the Easter Sunday.

Voice of the Voiceless
 As I was writing this, a boy of twelve shyly approach my window. I recognize him, he’s the boy who “greeted“ me first when I arrived here in Yakamba. He’s a deaf and mute. For me it’s significant, almost symbolic, that he’s the first person to “greet” me upon my arrival here. Now, he is here in front of me trying to say something. He is opening his mouth and producing sounds unknown to human language. Aware that I cannot understand what he was saying he accompanies his talks with gesture. Unfortunately, I still cannot understand what he was trying to say. He suddenly appeared to me as a symbol of his people suffering in silence, wanting so much to share their truth with me, in the world. Is this God’s way of asking me to be the voice of the voiceless? This sends a shiver down my spine. Like the disciple after the crucifixion, I am afraid. I’m as confused as the people.

Easter Sunday
Yet, today is Sunday. The day of the Risen Lord. It’s the fact that the Good Friday leads to the Easter Sunday and Easter Sunday is the beginning. Pentecost will surely follow.

By: Fr. John Burger

From the interview with Columban seminarian Philip Bonifacio taken by Fr. John Burger while Philip was on overseas training in Japan

‘Seeing missionaries at work with sugar workers changed my view of the church, which I had experienced in a strictly sacramental way. These missionaries were different; doing justice. This was a way of seeing the church not just as the hierarchy, but as the people of God. It broadened my view of Church. Where the Church is there is life for people, hope for people. Helping people see their rights as workers and as human beings. The poor are not the only ones that the Church is for, but the church is like a mother who gives special care to a crippled child, a child with special needs, even though she still loves the others.

‘I feel I am not just a student but am already a missionary. My work is not something in the future but has begun already. I am not yet equipped with all the language skills that I need, but I find myself very at home with people who come to my level. In my pastoral placement I’ve spent a lot of time with old people and young children. Children don’t hesitate to come to me, and the old want someone to listen to them,”

They are lucky to have a gentle listener like Philip.

By: Sr. Ma. Fidelis Ong PDDM

Sr. Fidelis Ong, a missionary in Taipei, Taiwan, was born in town of Abuyog, Leyte in 1947. She’s the eldest and the only daughter of the eight children of the Cresencio Palaña Ong and Rufina Modesto Realino, both from Abuyog. She enrolled at St. Michael’s College, Iligan City, which was run by the Columban Fathers at that time. Then later on it was given to the care of the religious of the Blessed Virgin Mary (RVM) sisters. Fr. Frances Carey, SSC, became the Dean of College. She completed her studies in 1969.

She says: “Seems to me that my attraction to religious life originally was to be a ‘priest’. That is why maybe I was called to this vocation with a Priestly zeal, the Pious Disciple of the Divine Master.”

Knock Knock
Every Easter and Christmas, this parish is always graced with new members. There is always a group of adult baptisms and entrants to the catechumenate. Before baptism there is a long preparation which is called the catechumenate. The drama is that, the candidates are asked to stay outside the closed door of the church. When the mass starts, they knock at the door, the celebrant priest entering by the sanctuary from the sacristy hears the knocking, walks toward the main door of the church while the entrance hymn continues. Then he opens the door from the inside and asks: “What do you want?” The catechumens respond: “We want to know Christ and learn from Him!!!” Then the celebrant priest would say: “Come in and welcome, God bless you.” And the candidates follow the celebrant priest marching together with their sponsors and catechists going toward the front seats. Then the celebrant starts the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

Leave after Gospel
After the reading of the holy Gospel, before the homily, one of the catechists stands to call each candidate by their names (still the pagan names) to go in the front of the altar for a blessing. They stand before the priest and make their solemn promises. The priest blesses them and hands them a certificate for entrance to the catechumenate. Then led by their catechist, they go out from the church for their catechism. They do this every Sunday morning at the nine o’clock Mass. They only join the beginning of the Eucharistic Celebration, until the reading of the Gospel, then they leave. Because they are not yet Christians.

 Period of Trial
Most of them are very busy business and professional people. So they can come to church only on Sunday.

Therefore the catechists have to adjust themselves, to see to it that they will not miss the Mass on Sunday. There are six masses anyway here every Sunday.

After the long period of laborious catechism, the catechist can recommend, but the priest has to ask the catechumens whether they are ready or not, or willing to receive the sacraments of Baptism.

The Big Day
Last Easter Vigil, April 1994, we were graced again with 13 adult baptisms. The oldest 75 years old and the youngest was 16 years old. The following day Easter Sunday there were another 3 adults and one infant baptism. It all indeed in great JUBILATION!

Trial
The rite of baptism here at our Lady of China Church id not like that in the southern area where tribes are still existing, They have indeed a special celebration of their own, using their own customs and own costumes.

Joy in the Heart
What is special for me here is that, they are “Chinese and adult.” They are grown up. I can see visibly from their countenance the feeling of joy, the feeling of belongingness as member of Christ Body, the feeling of joy having received  new names, Joseph,  Maria, Teresa, Paul, and Peter are the names they like most. They are also happy and proud at being dressed in white baptismal vestments and veils which we, PDDM sisters prepared. They are delighted too to receive big decorated-lighted candles and the Holy Bible and others items such as rosaries, crucifix and medals. And of course the simple and delightful snacks.

Renewed Sisters
I, myself and everyone experiences the feeling of joy, the joy of Easter , the joy of new life and as the new Christians make their baptismal vows to love God and to love their neighbor we, the faithful, renew our vows made long ago.

“The church asks for the long and careful preparations for the Baptism. We, in the Philippines must ask ourselves if the ignoring of this by us is one of the causes of so many problems on the Filipino Church.”

By: Nguyen Xuan Tien

Nguyen Xuan Tien, originally from Vietnam and educated in our Australian seminary, had his experience in Japan. Here he bids farewell to the people of Takatsuki Parish in Osaka where he found the acceptance that meant so much to him because of his personal journey which he now shares with us...

When I was just fifteen years old, about four years after the Communist took over South Vietnam. My father tried to get the whole family to escape from the communist, but he could not. We were cheated by some of the escape organizers and we lost almost all of our money.

From then on, my father tried to save money, but this time we could only go only one by one. I had been suffering from asthma for five years my parents brought me to the different kinds of Eastern and Western doctors to no avail so my father hoped that if I could go overseas, my sickness might be cured with the medicine available there. It was my school’s summer holiday so I did not want to go. I did not want to leave my family and friends.

Caught and Life Spared
But my father said go, so I did, sure that I could make it. The escape failed. I was caught and put in prison. I was so scared and did not know why God let this happen to me. I was afraid I might be shot. As I was led by several soldiers with guns along the beach, I was even more sure I would die when I saw a dead body of man who had just been shot by the soldiers. Thank God, I was not killed.

Lonely Cell
After a few days in prison, I started to feel lonely, more frightened, sad, homesick, worried and angry with my father. I really needed someone to be with me and help me. I needed to be accepted. There were about 70 people in the 50-meter-square cell but I could not trust anyone except one person, because I heard that the guards had put spies in the cell. I never met him before although we were in the same escape group. He told me that he was a former seminarian. I trusted him then.

Comes a Friend
He accepted me, cared for me, supported me, secretly advised me when I was going to be interrogated, and led me into prayer. We used to pray quietly together every day. That helped me to keep going. Now when I look back, I ask myself, “Did God send him to me?” I believe God did. After three and half months, I was released! Later on I discovered that the asthma had disappeared. My family and I did not know why. My father’s hope was fulfilled, not overseas, but in prison, I did not go back to school. Somehow I hated the whole system and did not have the will to study anymore. I stayed home until the age of eighteen, and my father taught me how to repair musical instruments. At this time, I was forced to join the army. I did not want to join because I would be sent to Cambodia to fight and I might be killed.

‘Shipwrecked’ in Malaysia
My father did not want me to join either, so he tried to help me to escape for the second time with my three younger brothers. This time was more frightening and I worried more than I did the first time because my brothers were with me. I did not know what would happen if we all were  put into prison. After thirteen days in rough seas in a boat with 49 people, we landed safely in Malaysia. I was happy that I had made it. I was free. But that feeling did not stay long. I felt very sad as I did not know if I would be able to see my family again. That was painful. Once more, there was a yearning to be accepted, as my brothers and I were on our own in the strange land.

Nightmare Over
We spent nearly a year in a refugee camp. There was joy, happiness, worries, hopelessness, doubt, peace, support, hardship, homesickness mixed emotions! We all survived. I still remember the day when our names were called over the loudspeaker. We were to be transferred to Kuala Lumpur and from there to Australia. Could it be true? I cried in joy. God heard my pleas and granted my prayer. We were accepted by Australia. My hopes and dreams were coming true. We would meet our sister and brothers again in Australia and our future would be brighter, free and hopeful.

Great Reunion
We arrived in Australia on June 10, 1983. It was my first experience of winter and it was really cold! The cold seemed to go right through me. My T-shirt and thongs were not enough to keep me warm. I met my sister, my brother, my new brother – in law and my little nephew, Vinh. We all cried. We had been separated for three years. I told them many stories about my family the escape, the camp, etc., all night long.

Scare
After a few days of enjoying our reunion and new life in Australia, I had to go to hospital like the other refugees for a complete health check. I was examined by the doctor and everything was ok! The next day my sister got a telegram from the hospital requesting me to come back to the hospital immediately. I was a bit scared as I did not know what was wrong.

There was a mark like a burn on my right arm. I had reported it on the paper but the doctor forgot to check it out. There was no feeling in that particular spot. The doctor used a needle to check all over my arm to see if there was a loss of feeling anywhere else. It was painful! The doctor told my sister that I had leprosy. My sister was shocked. So was I! The doctor also said that I would have to stay at the hospital for further examinations.

Lonely
That was it! God, You brought me to Australia and now why have You brought me to this place? At the time I knew very little English. There was no way that I could talk to anyone. I was kept in a big isolation room by myself. There was a little window near the top for circulating the air but not for viewing outside. I wondered if anyone could see me. I was very lonely. This might be the end of all my hopes and dreams in the First World country. I would be separated from my family. I was dying to see someone, to be visited, and to be accepted. I was isolated and felt hopeless. There was a yearning to be accepted once more. It was very difficult to take this situation.

Trust – Returns
But after a while I began to trust God and put everything in His hands. God created me so He will take care of my life. After a nightmare of four long days, I was allowed to go home. The doctors could not find out what I had. It is still a mystery. I was happy and joyful to become alive again, to have all my hopes and dreams back again. And the happiest thing was able to live with my family again.

***
From there Tien went on to join the Columban Missionaries. He did two years in Japan and now back to Australia. He hopes soon to be ordained and continue his mission career as priest.

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Headless Magkal
I do not know the name of this snake but it was big it is about three feet long. But I do know it is a delicacy to some people here including my catechist. I tried one evening  to run over one with my double cabin pick – up car but missed four times. Angry, I brought out my bolo and cut its head all at once. Then I lifted the switching body the switching body into the back of the pick – up. Immediately the body started coiling and uncoiling itself at the back of the car. Not far away from the killing zone, a farmer looking tired and weary was begging passionately for a lift. I stopped, signaled the man to jump quickly into the back car. Already I started to laugh anticipating his meeting with the moon-drenched headless snake still rolling over and over as if looking for its head, at the nearest village, I got out intending to give the snake to my catechist and interested at the same time to find out my passenger’s reaction. Oh, the man was not there anymore.

Mangamili
 It was the same kind of snake which I saw at Obeng-krum village (village of Mr. Obeng). The father of a family was roasting it over a fire. When I asked him, “Is it poisonous?” “No”, he said. Doubtful weather he understood me,  I reformulated the question. If the snake bites you, what happens to you?” “Oh, you will die immediately!”

By: Rev. Fr. Edgar S. Saguinsin
Pastor, St. John’s Church (Honolulu)

Fr. Edgar Saguinsin was born in Victorias, Negros Occidental in the year 1935. He was ordained in ’63 for the diocese of Bacolod. After being rector of the Seminary and Pastor, he took up justice work for the Sugar Workers. When his life was endangered during Martial Law, he went to work in Hawaii where he eventually became Pastor of St. John’s Church, Honolulu. There he developed the RCIA Approach to evangelization that he explains below.

Techno- Babble
Many years ago, Jack Hynes, a close friend of mine and an Irish Columban missionary priest, jolted me once with a frank critism: “Edgar,” he said, “You are not speaking from your head.”  This was after our group sharing during a spiritual retreat. Jack’s critism made me aware that it was more words and concepts than self and people’s lives that were coming across in my discourses. In the first seven years of my teaching and preaching ministry, it was always a temptation to talk in terms of concepts and technical words, the “techno-babble” of theologians and philosophers. But I soon came to realize that to speak from the heart and to be understood by the ordinary women and men of the street was the real achievement. The first major development in my ministry was a shift away from the “conceptualist” way of preaching and teaching.

Stark Experience
My preaching went through another stage of development when I started associating closely with the sugar workers of the Philippine I Negros Island where I came from. I remember Jose Panganiban, one of our original labor organizers, speaking at a labor seminar in 1971: “When Father comes to the hacienda to celebrate Mass, our amo sends his car to pick him up while we have to walk some distance. After the Mass, Father is invited to go up the amo’s residence for breakfast while we walk home hungry and not sure if we could eat more than a meal that day. Then Father is brought back home with a stipend while our minimum wages are not paid in time.” Jose my trusted friend, was not attacking me. He was just explaining their living conditions and the contrast between our lives!

 National Federation of Sugar Workers
I became convinced during this period that preaching social justice and working for a more just world is an integral part of the Gospel. We organized the National Federation of Sugar Workers (NFSW), and after four years as pastor of La Carlota City where the labor organization was born and grew, I had to work with NFSW full time as one of its officer and organizers. Afterwards I had to leave the Philippines in 1981 for the safety of my life. That as a priest I could work in NFSW as a full time officer and organizer is a tribute to my former bishop, the most Rev. Antonio Y. Fortich. Under increasing pressure and opposition from sugar plantation and mill owners and big business Bishop Fortich now retired, persisted in giving his blessing to such an “unpriestly” work!

Option for the Poor
The content and style of my preaching the gospel changed radically at this point. The Gospels clearly show that our Lord Jesus has a “preferential option for the poor” I joined labor organizations because I strongly felt that the gospel of love must be translated into love and advocacy for  our hungry, exploited, and oppressed people in the land of plenty. Organizing and educating them is the best way of helping them help themselves.

Giving Witness
Our faith demands that we get involved in changing a society where wealth and political power are inequitably distributed between the few very rich and the vast majority of impoverished people. In working to change an unjust and violent society the followers of Jesus have to resist the temptation to adopt violence as an instrument of policy. But we encouraged the laborers and common people to be militant in speaking and working for their rights, and to expose abuses. In this kind of work, however much we tried to be prudent and reasonable, we could not avoid the military repression of the Martial Law government and the angry opposition of former friends, relatives, and benefactors. I always asked: “How else can we give witness to what we preach?”

Shock in Hawaii
A third major development in my preaching took place when I began my ministry in Hawaii in 1983. Here I have been dismayed to observe people and their children, particularly Catholic Filipino immigrants, lose their faith in ways I have never seen in the Philippines. This fact has made me reflect deeply, and has challenged me. Henceforth, I have to focus my ministry and preaching on nurturing faith. If justice, peace and development have become a prominent concern of the Philippines Church, here in the U.S. fostering faith is our crying pastoral need.

Fostering Faith
With fostering faith as a preoccupation, the work of Catholic evangelization has taken center stage in my mind. It’s because faith in our Lord Jesus is what the work of evangelization id trying to bring about. Fostering faith, I have learned, is not the same teaching doctrine. For some teaching doctrine, the proper place is the classroom, and the method is lecture. But for fostering faith, the proper place is the small group, and the method is faith sharing. Doctrine and knowledge can be transferred. But faith, like love and commitment, cannot be transferred but must be personally experienced by each of us. The discovery that small group faith sharing is the most effective way of nurturing one another’s faith is something revolutionary for me. Every time we break up into small groups of four or five at our catechumenate or rite of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) session and have bible faith sharing, a miracle takes place! Part of the miracle is the preacher-teacher also learns and gets converted!

Four Elements
Not like before, I have learned that in order to foster faith four elements must always come into play as interconnected parts of a whole. They are: the message, community. prayer and service. The message we preach is Jesus Christ and his call to conversion. Here the bible becomes a necessity. At the same time we promote a sense of fellowship and community among the people we are evangelizing. At every session, a good amount of time is assigned to praying in any form of prayer. Then they are challenged to serve. Sharing one’s faith with others, starting with our family, is a form of service. Working to help make our world a more just and better place for God is another form of service. This kind of Catholic evangelization work has helped me find the focus of my priesthood: the priest’s reason for being is a pastor, to lead in planting and nurturing faith in people.

Will there be major developments in my life that will shape my preaching of the Gospel?

By: Sr. Marcelle Bual, SPC

Sr. Marcelle Therese Bual was born in Bukidnon, Mindanao where her father farmed. She went to school in Xavier College Cagayan de Oro where she took Accounting, Later she joined the St. Paul Sisters and was sent on mission to Nazareth in the Holy Land. From there she transferred to their mission in Ireland.
It is three years now since I came to Dublin, Ireland in 1991. many things have happened since then joys and sorrows, loneliness and friendships, bitter cols weather and pleasant sunny days, and other experiences, positive and negative in nature... as is always so in any normal life.

Time for Older People
Here in the Centre, my life is not always buried in figures and paper work in the accounting office. To be honest and true, three days a week would be more than enough time to tackle the accounting job to which I am assigned. However there is a lot of work to do around when one lives in community; that is expected and I like that.
Once in a while, and happily for me, I would be in direct contact with the elderly, or would have short encounters with these mellowed persons,  who made me think sometimes about what ultimately matters in life.

Miss Goodness
“How are you today? Pat?” I ask as I enter her room. She is small lady in her late eighties and is seated comfortably in her low chair. She smiles although she does not seem to hear me, and pointing towards the bathroom, she haltingly says, “Miss Goodness is in there.” I find out shortly that it is Sr. Rosario, cleaning up after her breakfast, she refers to. Now that is really touching!

They Don’t Say ‘Good Evening’
It seems to me that one of the most talked about subjects in Ireland is the weather. Instead of greeting each other “good morning” or “good afternoon” or “good evening” people would say “lovely day”, or “dreadful day” or “marvelous day” or “gorgeous day” or “terrible day” depending on the weather it is dark and wet or sunny and bright outside. Some of out residents get so affected that they become sad and depressed when it rains. But when the sun is shining brightly, they would be all smiles and it is almost like big mortal sin not to go out even for just a little walk around the block. The sunshine is too precious to be ignored. In the Philippines, I took it all for granted.

 At 9:00 P.M. It’s Like 3:00 P.M.
However, it is not always cloudy in Ireland. It has these beautiful long evenings in summer that are just unmanageable in the Philippines. Brightness would start creeping in at four in the morning and the day would stay bright and slowly turn to twilight at about eleven in the evening. Naturally, people outside would stay up late... do some activities like ball games, walks, jogs, or even work in the farm field etc. the disadvantage for me is that I could not get my sleep at the usual time of nine in the evening because outside my window, it is like three in the afternoon! That is the reason why sometimes I take the sisters instead for a nice drive around Dublin mountains or along the coast down to Wicklow, to enjoy the beautiful scenery, after our supper, which by the way we call “tea” here in Ireland. I do enjoy being a driver. Sometimes I feel that this is my main job here and the accounting is only my sideline. But of course in community it does not matter what one does, as long as it is for the good of all. I am happy with that.

Creating Home
To break the monotony of day- to-day routine in a home for the elderly, we have activities and celebrations too, not forgetting the spiritual side of everything. Big feasts like Christmas, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter are traditionally special and colorful for the residents. Then in between, we have occasional “happy hour” activities that keep us continually interacting with each other all year round year, year after year. The aim is to make this quiet place as much a home for them because for now this is the only place they have chosen to be.

In community it does not matter what one does, as long as it is for the good of all. I am happy with that.

Where have People have to Pray

By: Sr. Priscila  Andaya D.C.

I am one of the ninety seven Daughters of Charity of St. Vincent de Paul missioned here in the province of Zaire- Congo. Let me explain. Since we are only twelve sisters working in Congo, we cannot be a province yet, so we depend to the Province of Zaire, hence, we call our province, Province of Zaire-Congo. Ours is an international mission of Sisters from the twelve different nationalities. I’m the only Filipino here in Congo. Before my assignment in Congo I worked twelve years in Zaire.

Not Easy to Change
I arrived in Zaire last April 1979, and the first thing I had to do was to learn LINGALA, one of the common languages in Zaire. With God’s help and a lot of effort on my part I was able to speak it fluently in three month’s time.

Twelve Long Years
I remember that day when I had to change my mission, to leave Zaire and go to Brazzaville, the capital city of Congo. That was February 1991. it was not so easy for me to say “yes” because the country, the good Zarois people and my work had already after twelve long years of joyful service become dear to be.

No Problem
I was sent there in Brazzaville to work full time in the Parish of JESUS RESSURECTED. I teach catechism three days in the parish and two days at the Military Camp to the children of our native soldiers. The medium of instruction is in French, and the children begin their catechism at the age of nine. By this time they could already speak, read and write simple French. The native language spoken here is Lari which I haven’t learned yet since most Congolese people speak Lingala, I don’t have any problem in communicating with people.

In-Charge
I was also asked to take charge of the formation of catechists teaching catechism. Last year 1992-1993, we have catechized 1,500 children in our Parish.

The People Love to Pray
Our Parish is a big one, about 40,000 inhabitants and 80% are Catholics. Our people here love to pray, in fact there are twenty two different groups of prayer organized here in our parish, each group has its day and hours of prayer. One of these groups is the legion of Mary with one hundred ten women and men members, I was asked again to be their spiritual directress. Since there are seven Praesidia I try to attend the meeting of each praesidium once a week. All these activities are time consuming and need a lot of preparation, but I still find time to visit and bring food to fifteen poor old people in the slum areas, I do it two times a week.

Three Mission Posts
Here in Congo we have three mission posts: in Epena, way to the north where there are three Daughters of Charity; in Mbanza-Nganga, way to the south where there are three Sisters; and in Brazzaville, the capital of Congo, there are six different countries: France, Belgium, USA, Spain, Zaire and Philippines.

Diversity of Nationalities
In the community we speak French as well as Lari and Lingala to the natives. Inspite of our diversity in nationality, we try to accept one another, respect and love each other with the help of God’s grace. At home we take turns in cooking and I was given two days ‘in’ a week, and do some driving when I am needed.

Firm in their Faith
Please remember all of us missionaries in your prayers. Pray for our mission countries Zaire and Congo and all other African countries suffering poor people that they remain firm in their faith. We are keeping you all in our daily encounters with the Lord, both in the Eucharist and in the people whom He gives us to love and serve.

By: Sr. Rosalinda Argosino, SSpS

Tied to the Desk
I am not in the frontier mission, but belong to the group whom Fr. Wens Padilla, CICM of Mongolia described as follows: “Some of us have to do our mission work chained to a desk.” (cf. July-August. 1991 issue of MISYON). As “computer manager” on our Generalate in Rome I spend most of my time in front of a Computer - teaching other Sisters how to use our Microvax System or a personal computer. I also gather data for our general Administrator, prepare documents for publication, write simple procedures for our needs and answers the call for help of any computer users in trouble.

Small Escape
Last year when I did not have much work, I joined some activities of the Filipino  migrant workers who came to out chapel for the Eucharist  on Sunday afternoons or served meals to the poor and refugees in the Mensas of Caritas or St. Egidio Community. This year however, I have been fully occupied with computers.

Five Languages
This assignment has given me the opportunity to work closely with the sisters from different countries, especially when there are International assemblies like our General Chapter or the Assembly of Provincial Treasurers. In our Rome community there are 58 Sister presenting 15 nationalities. Of these 31 are using computers while 4 are still learning. These numbers change often because of the fast turn-over of studying sisters and the secretarial staff, I use languages in helping computers users – English, German, Spanish and Italian , sometimes mixed with body language when we could not understand each other, so that makes.

Centre of World Wide Commitment
As a tourists came to Rome, so traveling missionaries and people who work with our sisters all over the world also visit us. Such visits give us first hand information of the situation in today’s world as well as world – wide mission and bind us closer to all people through prayer and letters.

 Servant of the Holy Spirit
In short: praying for all people, especially those who are suffering, living in an international community and helping fellow Sisters carry out there mission with the use of computers, this are some ways I live  out my calling as servant of the Holy Spirit. There a four other Filipinas in our community: two are members of the General Administration, one is a translator and one is involved with the Filipino migrant workers.

Sr. Rosalinda Argosino was born in Lucena City, Quezon Province where she also went to school. She finished B.S. Chemical Engineering at University of Santo Tomas and taught Chemistry and Theology before entering the convent.

By: Rev. Msgr. Tomas Gonzales, MSP

Msgr. Tomas Gonzales is from Baliuag, Bulacan and was ordained for the Archdiocese of Manila. Having serves in Tondo & Pasay and later as Pastor in Alabang and Sta. Cruz, he volunteered as a Missionary to Papua New Guinea as an associate member of the Mission Society of the Philippines. (MSP). Here he tells us about some of his travails and joys in Papua New Guinea.

My first mission posting in 1990 was among the coastal tribes of Leitre at the North Western corner of Papua New Guinea.I was the second mission established in the Diocese of Vanimo. The people are peace loving and friendly and considered the most cooperative in the diocese. For two years I lived in their midst with three MCST Filipino Sisters.

No Priest
Towards the end of 1992, the bishop asked me to take care of the Mission at Utai, which lies on the southern side of the Bewani Mountains directly to the south of Leitre. Utai is deep in the bush of the Papua New Guinea rainforest. The people are aboriginals and hence more warlike and nomadic than those on the coast. The shortage of priest meant that the Mission was without a resident priest for eight years. Despite the good grass airstrip, Utai is regarded as a difficult and isolated Mission station. There is no roads, no electricity, not even a decent house or a convento!

A Plain Missionary
In this area the people live in small village groups long distances apart. Some villages are two or three days walk from Utai. The mission has an airstrip (the mission plane provides our daily way out) a community school, an Aid Post, Church and houses for the teacher and nurses, mostly constructed from bush materials. I live in a very poor room, which was formerly the aid post. I cook my own food and I wash my own clothes.

Empathy
In my one year stay in the area, I have learned to live and work with these people of a different race and culture, developing that empathy and adaptability which is required of a missionary. As a missionary priest, many demands are placed upon me.

Reluctant Midwifes!
My priestly and apostolic work requires physical endurance and good health to manage foot patrols to remote villages at other times, I am required to be a “jack of all trades” for it is often very difficult to find anybody to do the ordinary jobs of repair and maintenance on buildings and machinery. Wherever radios or watches are not functioning, people come to me. Once, when there was no nurse at the station, I was forced to attend a woman who gave birth – my goodness! What did know of midwifery?

Hunter Gatherers
Most challenging for me is the specific work I came to do to bring the Good News to people who are animists and nomadic. Everyday they look for food from sago palm trees and root crops in the forest; they search for wild pigs or cassowary with bow and arrow; they fish in the many rivers flowing through their ancestral lands. Families travel together with their hunting dogs, and they stay in one place for a day, weeks, or for months.

Close to Nature
I have discovered that the priest’s effectiveness depends on working with the people by training and forming Lay Leaders, Catechists, Church Leaders and Prayer Leaders. I must remember their strong bond with nature. For these leaders, the call to leave their church work to hunt, fish and wander is very, very strong. It is their life. If I go to visit the village unannounced, it will be virtually empty. Everyone will be in the bush.

Gold Rush
In the middle if last year, a new serious problem came to my people: a gold rush. In June 1993, Matei a man with three wives (this is common here) and eight children, came to me with small penicillin bottle full of small stones. Immediately, I identified them as gold nuggets. I helped him sell the gold in town and that bottle fetched him almost a thousand dollars. Faced with such a huge amount of money, he did not know what to do it. I taught him how to deposit the money to the bank and buy the food and clothing which needed, that opened the minds of all the people. In the days followed, there was a gold rush. Everybody went deep into the mountain to look for the precious gold nuggets.

 Fire Went Out!
With the search of gold suddenly becoming important, problems began to develop. Matie’s children could already do gold panning, so they were prevented from going to school. Many other children already enrolled in our school, were left to fend themselves. Their parents had gone seeking for gold. Twice the school children returned to their home village for the weekend, only to find themselves all alone! They manage to find food but were unable to cook because the fire which is continuously kept alight in the village had been left to burn out. On several occasions, our mission school has feed children for they were hungry.
Not only are the children affected. Ignas went to look for gold with his son and a neighbor. Late in the afternoon, he was forced to stop because he was so tired and hungry and the sun’s heat so strong. He asked his son to cut the shoots of a palm to eat, but when the palm tree had been felled, Ignas had lapsed into unconsciousness. Failing to revive him, the two companions made a sling and carried Ignas on their shoulders back to their village. The walk of two days. Ignas, still unconscious, seemed closed to death. They could not bring him down to the mission aid post, still another three hours walk, because their legs were swollen from carrying Ignas. There was no one at the village helped them. Although Ignas finally regained consciousness he had developed bed sores and his physical condition had deteriorated. Finally he was carried to a camp near the mission. When I heard about him, I walked to see him and gave him the last sacraments. After several days more, Ignas was died. I fell full sadness for Ignas and all our people.  

Everything Neglected
The responsibilities of the whole community are being neglected. Usually groups of people cut the grass around the aid post, school and mission area but not now. Construction of school buildings and teachers houses are normally done by the voluntary help of the villagers but no longer. Far away in the mountains, searching for gold the people are no longer bothering to come for Mass.

Looking for a New Way
A new way to reach my scattered people must be found. Such is the price of gold. Utai will never be the same again. The simplicity and lifestyle of the people will be changed. Perhaps their beautiful vast forests are also in danger. I pray the “I have the strength to face all conditions by the power that Christ gives me,”

By: Fr. Fintan Murtagh SSC

Fr. Fintan Murtagh is a missionary in Luzon for 30 years. His work with the handicapped reveals a true and beautiful Church of the poor which must surely disturb us all and challenge us.

Many people don’t like the sound of the word handicapped. It just does not sound right. It may be offensive to some, especially those concerned. “Special People” or “Mobility Disadvantaged” or any number of other names are used. Personally, I think it betrays an uneasiness that we all experience in the presence of disadvantaged. Allow me to use the term “handicapped” when referring to those special people who suffer some disability. Even the use of the word special is a little misleading because I believe that everyone is special, even myself!

Melody
In the Philippines it is the custom, that the children approach the priest and make mano (ask for blessing) by touching the priest’ hand to their foreheads. When a beautiful little girl called Melody asked for the blessing I noticed that she was a polio victim.
Melody was two or three years old. Polio had left her paralyzed from the waist down. She was lucky to have loving, caring parents who sent her to elementary school. In fact, her father made a side-car attached to his bicycle to take her to school. We were able to have a tricycle made which Melody could propel herself. And one of her neighbors made parallel bars from bamboo poles so that she could do therapeutic exercises everyday.
Meeting Melody was a new beginning for me. It made me focus on a need that I had not seen before.
There were man handicapped people in the parish. We now have 120 in our rehabilitation programme. Some suffer from cerebral palsy, polio, Pott’s disease, meningitis, muscular dystrophy, deafness, dumbness or blindness.

Community Based
Our programme of rehabilitation is based on David Werner’s book “Disabled Village Children.” Barney McGlade, an Irish layman sponsored by GOAL (Ireland) came with some of his team from Malate parish in Manila. With there help the Community Based Rehabilitation Programme (CBR) was set up here in Candelaria, Luzon, Philippines.
The programme is community based. Families understand that God has given them a special person to help and encourage in their development. They trained to give therapy to victims of cerebral palsy and polio. They teach the deaf and their families and friends the sign language. We have attempted projects like making picture frames from sugar cane stalks and baskets from bamboo or rattan. We have taught sewing and needlework. All the encouragement to share their skills with each other. This has contributed to a growing sense of community where the handicapped, members of their families and many others support each other. Some have very special gifts that enrich the community.

Arlene, Edgar, Ate Fe, & Rolly
Arlene is a nurse who has specialized in therapy for the disabled. She visits the homes teaching mothers how to give treatment to their disabled children and supervises the progress of each one.
Edgar is a teacher whose specialty is education for slow learners. He has endless patience putting his student through various teaching exercises and lessons.
Ate Fe, is a mother of 14 children and is an expert physical therapy, herbal medicine and acupressure.
Rolly is a high school graduate who is very gifted sign language teacher and expert in handicrafts. He is studying to be diesel mechanic and gives generously of his free time.

Elvis, Marlon, Bernard, Letty, & Roger
Besides these dedicated workers some of the handicapped are active in helping each other. Elvis who cannot walk because his legs were severely deformed by polio and is also deaf and dumb, is a champion basket maker. He shares his skills with others. He is an able teacher of the sign language.
Marlon makes beautiful ornate picture from sugar cane stalks and delights in sharing his talents with the others.
Bernard, who is blind is a gifted guitar player. He plays in church every Saturday and Sundays and he teaches others.
Letty was sent to a special school for two years where she learned dressmaking and needlework. Now she is a teacher the skills she has learned to others.
Rogers, who is deaf and dump, teaches sign language, basket making and gardening, and many other things.

What a Mass!
When we had a special liturgy for a handicapped all the main participants were disabled. A team of six interpreted the readings, homily and hymns in sign language. The collection was taken up by those in wheelchairs. A blind guitarist was our principal musician. Most of the choir gave full voice to our praise from their wheelchairs.
I noticed many moist eyes in the congregation. In fact, I myself had to clear my throat a few times.