By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

Night-Walking
In a parish situation like mine here, walking to the villages is unavoidable but night-walking is something my village people would not normally do. I introduced it only as a way of escaping the blistering sun. One time my church helper and I were walking a distance of more that sixteen miles under the silver sheen of a moonlit night. Having covered more than half of the distance, we rested an I must confess I was so tired I wanted to give up. In a meditative mood, I found myself musing, “Lord, at this stage of world civilization, here I am, still walking.” And the Lord said, “Joe, how lucky you are; you have legs and you have health.” Since then I stopped complaining.
***

Kalinga-Apayao
While on vacation from Ghana, I went to Gaang, my birthplace in Kalinga-Apayao. There I met my classmates from 1969. I discovered some of them have more than seven children and are about to have grandchildren. They look old – apparently worn out by a hard life. Looking at them, I said teasingly: “Anyway, as the sages would say, “It is better to wear out than to rust out,’ “How about you? What are you eating? It seems you are not getting old at all,” replied those emaciated but delighted faces. “I am like wine; the older I become, the better,” said the flattered Pinoy missionary from Ghana to his old acquaintances now wild with laughter.
***

 

“Pari ho Kayo?”
While in the Philippines for my homeleave, at a jewelry store in Manila, I bought something for a gift. The sales girl requested me to sign the guarantee card which I did sign, “Fr. Joseph D. Panabang, SVD.” Reading my name, the salesgirl looked up a t me surprise and blurted. “Pari ho kayo? Wala sa mukha. “as usual, I just smiled. Sometime later, in our SVD Retreat House I Baguio City. I told the story to our cooks who were mostly Ilocanos. After telling them the story. They said in chorus. “Agpayso piman met” (“Totoo naman ah”). So you see me to clerical attire, you know why.
***

Good Samaritana!
Last Holy Thursday, I was the main celebrant in our SVD Retreat House. There had been a water crisis in the house for quite long with which made the Washing of the Feet a humbling task. Moreover, I was wearing rubber shoes the right foot of which was torn apart already as I had been using it trekking the mountains of Kalinga. The following morning, on my way to the kitchen, one of the visitors remarked, “Father, you give a good homily, and she trust her right hand into my pocket and continued, “but I think you should buy a pair of good shoes. Your shoes now are ‘Calvary’-Calvary na talaga.” On the same  day, I bought a pair of good shoes out of the money that “Good Samaritan” pushed into my pocket. And sa the Good Samaritan did not tell his name, so she did not tell hers.
***

Beautiful versus Handsome
I was showing my slide films to the catechists during their summer catechists during their summer catechetical classes at Mary heights, Baguio City. In the slides there was a picture of a beautiful Ghanaian woman standing with all her colorful Ghanaian attire and I told the catechists, “This woman kept saying to me that she is pretty and beautiful, and told her my mother also told me that I am tall, dark, and very handsome!” With that the catechists burst into gales of laughter.
***

Twi
Twi, one among  the many Ghanaian languages, is a tonal language which makes it difficult to learn. Much depends on the tone, how you say the word whether up or down or a bit slurred. To really speak good Twi is almost like reading the musical notes of do re me...

Listening to my recorded Mass in Twi, one of my nieces, very much aware of my physical appearance said archly, “Oh, uncle, such a language is very much fitted to your thick lips.” They others burst out laughing.

More in next issue

 

 

By Fr. Joseph D. Panabang, SVD

Ghana, West Africa

Red River
Last December, 1988, Patrick and I started our first missionary journey to Asukoko. “Asukoko” means red river. I jokingly asked my guide whether this red river had some connection with the Red Sea and he said emphatically, “Oh no, none at all.

Even a Tractor Can Not Pass
Because of the bad road, most of the vehicles going there are tractors but they only get as far as Kunsu. Alighting from the tractor at midday in Kunsu, we proceeded the last four miles to Asukoko by foot. The catechist of Kunsu joined us to make the group “Trinitarian.”

“Obruni, Obruni
We had to walk through wide open savannahs but that was no problem. With my big umbrella I looked like an important chief on a palanquin. People of the few villages we passed by were shouting “obruni”, “obruni” (white man, white man). Most whites here are insulted when called “obruni”. But I always answered by smiling and waving my right hand (it is taboo to greet with the left hand). I waved with a twinkle in my eyes because for a brown non colonial Filipino to be called “obruni” is no problem.

Sun Turns Yellow
From the open field, we entered the dark deep jungle along the “red river”. I was almost expecting to meet Tarzan. The breeze was cool and refreshing after the vile dust of Harmattan. Harmattan is the season from December to February, when the dust the Sahara Desert is blown all over Ghana. During this time the sun is covered by dust clouds and everything is so dusty and dry that even your lips are cracking. You can even look at the yellowish sun with your naked eye. The river is not really that big but people say it is big and impassable during the rainy season.

Strange Medical Plants
All along the way, aside from learning the local language, my companions kept me busy by identifying herbs and trees which according to them, are medicinal. Some of these herbs and trees, weird and peculiar in from and shape, made me suspect perhaps their power lies in their weirdness and peculiarity. I am no herbalist but I teach you something if you come to Asukoko.

 

 

Great Shout
By twelve, we arrive at Asukoko. People near the river, suddenly, like a driving tornadic wind, burst into terrifying shouts as if to signal a final assault against an invading army. I was frightened and when I asked why, they said to my relief, “They are announcing your coming.”

African Tuba
We are led to the house of the catechist where they welcome us with pots of “pitoo” (a native beer brewed from guinea corn. Walking for several hours under the rising humidity and scorching heat of Harmattan, it would be a “mortal sin” not to drink “pitoo” which I personally call the ‘good water”. But before we drank, there was the customary libation, not to forget to invoke the intercession of the Saints – the real ancestors who help the living. This is my own way of trying to incorporate this practice into their Christian faith.

Handsome Ears
After the traditional welcome, we had to go around the village, house to house, greeting everyone repeating the same greeting over and over again- an excellent way of learning a local language. It was an amusing sight to see hordes of children following me with killing curiosity. “Look at his hair; look at his skin, his ears, oh how handsome,” they were telling one another not knowing I could understand some of what they were saying.

Big Clan
One unique characteristic of this village is that, they are all members of the same clan. It is a big family of more than fifty and all are solidly Christian.

Limasawa
The mass was lively with a little dance to rhythmic throbbings of royal drums and mesmerizing polyphonic singing; it was irresistible. I thanked the people for their presence. In response, they told me they were so happy and grateful for they did not expect that the foreigner could also walk the way they do. That December 9, 1988 will go down in their history for it was the First Visit by a white man and the First Mass in their village. It seems it was Limasawa island all over again!

Safety Home
On our way back the following day, there was a big army car parked at the main road, partly hidden. At first I thought there had been a coup d’etat. But after greeting the soldier with my usual smile they offered us a ride. I felt proud riding a breakneck speed on a Ghanaians First Class Combat Car for the first time. So terrible was the speed that I thought the driver was not driving fast but only flying low. No such thing as bumps or holes! But I was all thanks when we reached Kintampo safe and sound.

By Sr. Nihita Maria, SSpSAP

A group of Pink Sisters from  the Philippines Sr. Nihita Maria, Sr. Maria Cecilia, pink describe their habit not their politics- started a House of Adoration in Bangalore, India. But before they got there, while still in Bombay, they set up a unique friendship with a Hindu Brahmin Professor.

Now Read on:

Fears
His name was Sri Phadnis…
We had apprehensions concerning our future relationship with the Hindu Brahmin Professor who taught us Hindu and Sanskrit. But our fears were quickly dispelled at our first meeting.

Only Half a Cup
Although Brahmins usually do not accept food from Christians, whom they were consider as of a lower caste, our new acquaintance graciously accepted the cup of tea we had set   before him. But he took only a cup. We learned later, he had been taught the value of moderation from early childhood.

No Egg or Meat
Sri Phadnis had just turned 65 when we first meet him. Of slight build, he had the sprightly gait of 20 years old. We think he is still so now, although we have not seen him since we left Bombay in 1982. An Orthodox Brahmin, he was faithful to his Hindu practices which included taking a bathe first thing in the morning, then engaging in prayer rituals and doing certain Yoga ‘asana’ (exercises). He never took egg nor meat nor fish

“Ji “Is “Po”
Soon a warm rapport sprang up between Sri Phadnis and us, so that we spontaneously got to calling him ‘Panditji’. “Pandit “, as you know, means a “learned man” “one proficient in his field”, as Pandit Nehru. “Ji” is much like our Tagalog “po”; it also connoted respectful affection, so that Mahatma Gandhi is often referred to as ‘Gandhiji’.

No See -Through Saree
We have yet to meet more dedicated and caring teacher than our Panditji. But he was more than just this to us. Since we were new in the country and cloistered contemplatives at that, Panditji had a fatherly concerned for us which he showed in ever so many ways. For example, he volunteered to do a considerable part of our shopping and procured after many inquiries (with the help of his wife and daughter), the right Saree materials for us which, he said was okay because it was not see-through’.
Thermos of Tea
When we went for our Hindu government exams, good Panditji accompanied us to the venue. As he had then to preside at a meeting, he commissioned a nephew of his to wait for us after the exams with a thermos bottle of tea and bananas, and to accompany to the bus stop, with express instruction that he was not to go away until he saw us safely seated in the bus.

Off to Bangalore
While we were getting ready for the great exodus from Bombay to Bangalore, Panditji kept in constant touch with us, giving us moral support and rendering us invaluable services. And when, shortly, after our arrival here, we wrote him of the warm reception accorded us by everyone, his reply ran somewhat like: “You can not imagine how anxiously I have waited news from you. I felt like a father whose newly married daughter had just gone to live with her in- laws (in India, the joint family system is still quite prevalent). It was therefore a tremendous relief for me to learn from your letter that your neighbors are very kind to you!”

Pilgrim on a Journey
Panditji is on a spiritual journey of ongoing integration with his Inner Core, his True Self, through the living out of the Bhagavad Gita’s “Nishkama karma” (selfless service or egolessness ). Perhaps a Hindu would word it differently; but in the long run isn’t it in the Ultimate Ground of our being where we all meet and find our true identity?

1,000 Kilometers Away
Although we have been inviting Sri and his wife to spend some weeks as our guest here they have so far not been able to make the 1,000 kilometer trip in the Bangalore. Nevertheless we continue our dialogue as co-pilgrims through correspondence. In one of this letter, Panditji wrote: “God dwells in the heart of all beings. (Gita 18.61; 15.15; 14.23.).Could you kindly mention quotations from   the Holy Bible that have similar meaning?”

Nailed to the Bed
In his last letter, Panditji related how, on account of an attacks of viral bronchitis, he was ‘tied to the bed’ for three weeks by his physician daughter. He then continued: Sisters, you can imagine how hard it was for me to lie in bed when I already felt strong enough to get    up and go out. How ever, there was one point in my favor – the kept me ‘tied’ to the bed she could not bind my mind.

Adoration Bower
“Whenever I felt bored, I used to sneak out mentally and take shelter in a very peaceful, calm and serene corner. Can you guess where this corner was? – In your Ardhana Kunj chapel at adhere, Bombay. I sat with you all, sang the Hindu Psalms, saw the Indian lamp burning and shared with you some moment of meditation.” (Panditji was the one who suggested the name “Aradhana Kunj “ – Adoration Bower -  for our house and chapel, and he set some of our Hindu Psalms to music.) Small wonder that he enjoys quoting a Jesuit who called him a “Christian Hindu”!

We Feel Good
Just sharing with you about our Panditji and how he touched our lives make us feel really good. It makes us re-live the wide gamut of our dialogue of word and relationship with him. And each time we call back those memories, we know we are tuning in, with increasing sensitivity, to the divine human dialogues that have been going on the thousands of years in this land and which are expressed through and embodied in, India’s diverse cultures and religious.

Abba: Father
Whether we see its fruition here on earth or not, we trust that our dialogue with our non Christian brethren will deepen our mutual involvement with the Kingdom of God, the center which is Jesus Christ who calls the Father “ABBA” in the Holy Spirit!

The divine human dialogue has been going on for thousands of years.

By Fr. Joseph Broderick, SSC

Guess Who
The doorbell rings and I open the door to a young couple who, by the look of them are up to some good.

Not Christians
We greet each other and I invited them in. “WE would like to get married in your church. It is possible? We are not Christian.”

Testing
I like them. At least their first question isn’t, How much?” Still they need testing.
What do want to get married for?” This question usually startles them
They started getting redfaced and say, I want to be with this person,” or something like that.

Crazy Foreigner
Finally, I get them to state openly that they love each other; they gave me a look that has “Hen na gaijin” (a crazy foreigner) written in their faces.

17 ½ Hours
Most of the weddings in our churches are between non-Christian parties. Some are mixed but the vast majority are between non-baptized people. Of course both parties must be not divorced. Also they have to attend pre marriage course: even two- and- a- half hour sessions, under the guidance of Columban Fr. Sean Ryle, who is in charge of pre-marriage courses in this area. If the couples refuse to attend the course, I tell them we can’t do it

Much Displeasure
The course is down to earth: great emphasis in the world of feelings, sharing, respecting life in its totality, and on the spiritual aspects of marriage. The couple who begin the course with much displeasure (“Why this Course? Why can’t you just marry us?”) Usually come back when the seven weeks are over to thank me for arranging such wonderful preparation. Fr. Sean Ryle does the work, I get the praise, thanks be to God!

Childhood Wish
Many young couples want the church wedding because it is meaningful, understandable, and all their friends can attend. In many cases, it had been the wish of the bride since she was young, and maybe because of some Sunday school or Christian kindergarten she attended.

 

Open to all Nations
We, of course, stress the Christian meaning of marriage, the eternal love of God and the indissolubility of marriage of marriage. For us, it is one way to become contact with people, to introduce Christ to them, to open the house of God to all nations, and to provide for the upkeep to the church.

Misunderstanding Disappear
From the point of view of spreading the Gospel, what value have these “Church weddings”? Do many people seek baptism as a result? Very few. But the Church, because of such marriages, has gained many friends. “He who is not against you, is for you.” Many understandings about the Church disappear.

Blessing Babies
Many read the Bible that the church gives as wedding present. God becomes more important to them. Many bring their babies for me to hold and bless. The baby usually ends up crying, demanding to be returned to the mother’s. Good for the baby and good for me.

Fr. Ryle
Much credit is due to Fr. Ryle and his co-helper, Sr. Yuri Yoshinaga, for all the work they do in this field. Fr. Ryle is always in the move giving pre-marriage and post - marriage courses, instilling into groups the sanctity and holiness of the family. He is doing great thing to stem the evil of abortion.

Abortion Down by Half
Thanks to God’s grace working through Mother Teresa, who has visited Japan three times pleading on behalf of the unborn, and people like Fr. Ryle and Sr. Yoshinaga, the number of the abortion of Japan has been decreasing considerably. According to the official statistics available here in Jumamoto Prefecture as in the rest of Japan, abortions have dropped by more than half in the last 30 years. Still, much is left to be done.

Too Busy
Many of the working men claim they are too busy to attend the talks because of the company work and ask if wouldn’t be all right for the girl only to attend. It’s deadly for them to say that to me.

Mousiness/ Gutlessness
I give them an off-the cuff-sermon on the mousiness of Japanese men who love the company more than their wife, the gutlessness of Japanese men who are so self-centered that they expect everybody to sit and serve them, the savageness of Japanese men who by unwillingness to be gentle, crucify the women. Usually at some stage the man can take no more and say, “I’ll attend! I’m not like the rest of the Japanese men.”
Then they ask “How much for the priest?”
“Nothing”
“Hen na gaijin!” (“A crazy foreigner!”)