By Etuate Tubuka

A Columban seminarian from Fiji tells us about his first missionary journey to the Philippines. He accompanied Kurt Pala on part of the Road to Agoo in this issue.

I arrived at Manila International Airport on 25 June 2008 at 11:30 pm after a ten-hour flight from my home country, Fiji. I had completed a year and a half of seminary studies in Fiji and I had come to the Philippines to continue them. 

Fr Dominic Nolan and my new formator, Fr Michael Cuddigan, were waiting to greet me. We headed for the Columban Regional House in Manila where I spent my first night away from home.

Lying in bed that night was one of the hardest moments in my life. I was in a country where everything was different from my own. I didn’t know what to expect and how to react. I was homesick, afraid and lonely. 

Culture shock began the moment I walked out of the airport terminal. I found the noise, the people and the lights different from those at home. There were so many new things to see and marvel at in Manila: jeepneys, tricycles, the busy traffic, big malls and pollution. I remember my first ride on a tricycle. I had to get on behind the driver because I could not fit with another inside the cab. Never in my life had I seen so many people. I’m told the population is about 96 million. Back in Fiji we have just passed the 900,000 mark.

Father Cuddigan and I left for the Columban House of Studies in Quezon City the next day. Depending on traffic, it can take up to an hour to get there. I was introduced to our cook Yoli and our cleaner Minda.

The rest of the students were not around for they were still on holidays. 

My Columban brothers arrived four days after me. I was thankful and happy to see them. It didn’t take us long to blend in together. We had so many things in common and we were friends from the day we met. This friendship was strengthened when we went camping during our first week together.

The aim of the camp was to build bonds between us students and also to be a time of reflection. The campsite was a historic site, Biak na Bato, Bulacan, north of Manila, and I was honored to be part of it. It was quite a peaceful place and it reminded me of home and soon enough I was homesick again.

At the moment we are attending different institutions depending on our different years of studies but most of our lectures are in-house. I am enjoying the food and have come to try new delicacies like balut (hard boiled duck eggs which are about to hatch) and bats, ‘paniki’ in Tagalog. The trick is – eat with an open mind.

Each day I learn new things. I don’t know what the future holds for me but I am enjoying the present moment. This is an experience that I will never forget.

You may email Etuate, or ‘Etu’ as he is known, at etubuka@gmail.com or write him at: Columban House of Studies, PO Box 4454, 1099 MANILA.

By Arlenne Villahermosa

Arlenne, from Talisay City, Cebu, has worked as a Columban lay missionary in Korea after which she served a term as coordinator of our lay missionaries in the Philippines. She is now in Myanmar (Burma), a country with which the Columbans have had ties since 1936.

‘Arlenne’, with a prolonged hold on the second syllable, was the way people at home called me when I was a child in order for me to do something. And then it was followed by ‘Marika’ (Come here) if it was my mother who called or ‘Dali diri’ (Come here) if somebody else. I would answer immediately saying, ‘O,’ which meant ‘Yes’, and then went to the person who called me. 

Being an obedient child, I always followed what I was asked to do, sometimes willingly, and other times not so willingly. 

This was one of my earliest memories of being called as I am, by my name.

As a child and growing up, the sound of the tolling of the bells inviting all the faithful Catholics in our town to Mass was a beautiful call-sound and I always waited for that sound to come. ‘Primera’ was how we called the first call with continuously repeating slow-interval tolls, thirty minutes before the start of the Mass. Fifteen minutes later, the last call, ‘Remate’ (re-MA-te), came with the church bells ringing continuously in a quick tempo for a couple of minutes. The sound was loud enough to be heard by people living in nearby barangays, strong enough to wake those who were still sleeping or sleepy, and melodious to the ear which gave vibrancy to our town. As the years rolled by, the church bells stopped ringing but we still kept going to church. We already knew in our hearts the schedule of Masses. We kept responding to the invitation of the church.

This was probably one of those early signs or experiences of being called to respond to God’s love and of being invited to share in Christ’s mission, which stayed in my sub-conscious mind.

Years passed and there was another call that was difficult to hear and was not quite clear. It was a stirring from deep within, a tiny voice so it seemed – a different longing that was not easy to decipher, probably being ‘pushed down’ by other calls, concerns and priorities at the time. Looking back, I suppose the seed of mission had been planted early on when I answered the call of my mother and those at home. I said ‘yes’ even without knowing the task they wanted me to do. But I knew it was always something important or something that needed to be done. I was happy in my work back then, with my life, family, friends, apostolate and involvement in the church’s activities and ministries. But the call to mission was persistent though gentle, affirming and assuring amidst its vagueness, unsettling yet giving me a sense of peace. 

This was the call I needed to address and which had been lurking at the side for a long time waiting for the fullness of time – God’s time.

Each one of us has our own calling in life. We are all called to love but we respond differently. Looking back, the experiences I’ve had in life since childhood led me to respond to the call to mission. I was called by my name and was nurtured by people, events, places and experiences of God’s unconditional love which in the process has brought me to where I am now, a Columban lay missionary. I said ‘yes’ to share in the mission of Christ, a mission to love out of love, crossing boundaries of culture, gender, creed and race.

Learning the language of the people in a foreign country is far from being easy, but an essential step. For us, it is the first ministry in cross-culture mission. It’s more than just learning how to speak, read and write. It’s learning how to communicate with the local people . . . hearing and understanding what they are saying and not saying, and being able to respond accordingly and appropriately. It is also a time to listen to one’s own self in a new culture. Oftentimes, it breaks down many defences. Once when I got sick during my first assignment in Korea, it was very difficult to fully express my condition with the little Korean I had. I felt like a child again. I had to learn to entrust myself to other people in order to get some medication. Since I am allergic to some medicines, it was difficult for me to entirely put my trust in doctors who did not know my medical history and to the pharmacists who gave me medicines I didn’t know. I simply followed what I was told to do. I trusted that the God who sent me there was there with me all the way. He knew best.

Now in Myanmar, I’m back to being a child again. I thought it would be easier this time as I’ve already experienced ‘being a child’ in my adult years. However, it’s not totally the case. I have to unlearn again, relearn again and learn again with a heart set in Myanmar, trying to understand the heart and mind of the Burmese people – seeing and experiencing them as they are without judgment or comparison, and knowing where they are coming from. In studying the Burmese language, sometimes Korean words come into play. When English, Filipino and Cebuano words join the mix-up, then I stop and I either smile or sigh, or both . . . just when I thought I was already moving ahead with my Burmese language! Humor and a positive outlook have been a good help. Before I can do anything, I need to be a child again - to relearn the attitude of a child lest I get lost in the world of the ego.

Just like in answering the call, being on mission is a process. In walking with the people I’m also being processed internally by the experiences, purifying my intentions, motivations, my heart and my thoughts. It is only with God’s grace that all these things can happen. He needs me to be open to receive Him so that He can work in me, and through me reach out to others and they to me.
When realities, idealism and values clash, and the urge to do something is strong, I feel the need at times to sit back and see things from the perspective of God’s boundless love and learn again to trust in His goodness. ‘He makes all things beautiful in His time’, as the lyrics of a song go. Oftentimes, it is easier to do than to be. But it is in the ministry of presence, walking with the people in their helplessness and struggles, joys and pains that I learn to understand them and am enabled to reach out to them in compassion, with compassion. 

To constantly maintain an open attitude for God to fill in and to be empowered by His love in reaching out to others is an important invitation in mission. Putting my wholehearted trust in God in everything is easier said than done. I can only keep on trying. But it is only in doing so that I let God, who called me first to life, be God in my life.


You may contact Arlenne at arlennev@gmail.com 

By Fr Joseph Panabang SVD

We were bringing a woman in labor to Sekesua Clinic around 3:00 in the morning. The woman was writhing in pain shouting, ‘Eyoo, eyoo, eyoo’, the cry of Krobo women when in that situation. ‘That is what you get for tempting Adam. Just beat your husband sitting on your left’, I said teasingly. ‘For getting you in trouble,’ added Joseph Kweku-Duah, our catechist. 

---

At the annual Marian pilgrimage in Osonson, my new parish, a woman came for confession. She was nervous and I observed at the end of every sentence, she would stamp the ground with her left foot. Finally she finished what seemed to her an ordeal. Advising her, I said, ‘When temptation comes, kick it!’ At the same time I kicked the ground with my left foot, imitating her; ‘when it comes again, stamp on it!’ I stamped the ground again with my left foot; ‘if it still comes, trample on it!’ Again I trampled the ground with my left foot. With my gradually louder voice and stronger stamping, she smiled but understood, while the penitents waiting in line must have been wondering what the kicking and stamping were all about.

 

You may write Fr Joseph Panabang SVD at PO Box 55, Osonson, ASESEWA, L/R, GHANA 

By Violeta V. ‘Villaraiz

The author is a Columban lay missionary from Manila working in Korea. She spent some time before in Cameroon as an Assumption Volunteer and first appeared in Misyon while there.

“…each of the four seasons is a growing season of the heart. If you sink your roots deeply into the soil of each season’s truth, it can become your mentor.” (Macrina Wiederkehr OSB)

Trying to write something about my missionary journey of almost two years here in Korea as a Columban Lay Missionary is like my first experience of the four seasons, spring, summer, autumn and winter.

SPRING - season of Rebirth

Coming here in April 2007 from the Philippine summer was a sudden change of climate for us. The cold was around us, but we were warmly welcomed by our Columban family here. We started our language study immediately, awed at first at the big compound of Korea University, with great enthusiasm. The spring flowers and fresh green leaves around us refreshed my mind after four hours a day for five days of language studies each week. Our meals included spicy Korean dishes. I like spicy food so this was a new treat.

Seoul Metro Rail: ‘Wow!’ I exclaimed during our first ride, another new experience. How convenient and fast - yes I’m comparing it with our terrible traffic jams in Manila - and to be surprised by Korean commuters, who always seem to be in a hurry, bumping into me while saying ‘Go fast! Fast!( 빨리! 빨리! ), a Korean expression I memorized very quickly. I was also impressed by the discipline of Koreans in following traffic rules. A red light really means ‘stop’ and a green light ‘Go’ - one thing I had to adjust to, for I wasn’t used to obeying traffic lights. I am learning to be a good citizen again here. . .

SUMMER - season of Fruitfulness

After almost a year of language study we start our ministry. I chose the Urban Poor Ministry at Dongnimmun(독립문.) My very first work is to assist Father Francis in his summer catechesis; I started to play the guitar again while learning some Korean songs. Music, as they say, is a universal language and this is very true as I share music with the children, even my singing and guitar-playing aren’t that good. 

I also started my work at Kungbupang (공부방)where I have English classes. The children and I were both teachers and students - I teaching them English and they s my most patient teachers of Korean. I also have music with them once week, something I’m very much at home with. I remembered my work in the parish in the Philippines as a Pastoral Catechist. That time I had a struggle to learn to play the guitar and my singing wasn’t good. But with children you can’t go wrong. Now I found my self-confidence growing as again I was playing music, the language through which I could communicate. I loved it when we were singing together, the music coming from hearts full of love, full of life, full of fun for the children as they waited for me to sing a Korean children’s song, laughing while correcting my pronunciation. 

In the parish I usually attended the daily Mass with the grandmothers, usually not more than six of them. I remembered that also in the Philippines, it’s usually older people who attend weekdays Masses. I remembered my late ‘Dada’, my grandmother, one of those who my desire to attend Mass every day. The Mass, she often said, is our food for the soul and as I joined the Mass with the grandmothers here I was reminded to ask always for the grace of faith to do God’s will here in the community to which I had been sent. 

AUTUMN – season of surrender
Letting go of what the familiar was something thing I had to learn the hard way through living with a Korean lady in the house in 독립문 provided by the diocese for those working on mission. We were so different from each other in culture, personality and character. But we were both learning to accept and respect each other’s difference. There were times when we just couldn’t ‘meet in the middle’. I could only say that this was part of the experience of being a foreign missionary here. 

But that wasn’t the whole of autumn for me, I had the consolation of enjoying the beauty of the change of the colors of the leaves and their soft and gentle falling, bringing me to a stillness and wonder, grateful to the God of creation for letting me feel that all was going to pass through this cycle of transformation in order for new life to arise. For me it was more a spiritual journey of letting go and dying . . . like the slow falling of the leaves I was to some extent experiencing the falling of my preconceived ideas of being a missionary and a witness here and letting those leaves of mine die and be buried in the sacred ground of the people I was with here in the community.

WINTER – season of Waiting
I felt some excitement during my first winter here, looking forward to at last experiencing a ‘White Christmas’. Unfortunately we didn’t have much snow in Seoul, and the freezing cold really got to me. We often joked that we were in a large freezer and about how heavy we were because of the many clothes we had to wear. My first experience of snow was on 19 November 2007, the first death anniversary of my father. When the snow started and when the first snow rains here, together with Maira San Juan, another Columban lays missionary from the Philippines, and I went outside and played like children, even tasting the snow. And the long cold nights of winter had now arrived.

The Christian season of Advent has as its central theme the coming of the Christ- Star into the world. It is a time to remember how God’s Beloved came to restore from shining through all beings. The Christ-Star, this Irresistible Love in us, this Radiant Goodness, is at the core of our souls. Advent reminds us that each of us has the light of this Shining Star within us. This special season assures us that we can radiate love and goodness to others. 

Just as a star led the Magi to the Christ Child, so we are meant to be stars leading to others to the Divine Love. Others are also stars for us, leading us to Divine Love. In each of us, the manifestation of Divine Love is a magnificent gift of hope and encouragement. (from The Circle of Life, by Joyce Rupp OSM and Macrina Wiederkehr OSB).

I also kept the season of waiting with great trust and hope, as every season’s entrance and departure is part of the great turning of the circle of life. I thank all I have met who in their own way, be it good or bad, are the stars who lead me to our Divine love... we are meant to be stars leading others to the Divine Love. Others are also stars for us, leading us to Divine Love. In each of us, the manifestation of Divine Love is a magnificent gift of hope and encouragement. 

With a grateful heart... MARAMING SALAMAT! 감사합니다. THANK YOU VERY MUCH!

And yes, the journey still continues, the circle of the life, the four seasons will be with us...



A reflection by:
Violeta V. ‘Villaraiz “라보라”
RP 16
Columban Lay Missionary
Seoul, South Korea


You may write Violeta at 229-1 3Ka, TONG-SON-DONG, SONG BUK KU, SEOUL 136-053 KOREA. 

By Fr Donal O’Dea

As I sat in the parish church of Dancalan, Ilog, Negros Occidental, I felt sleepy. A 5.30am flight from Manila to Bacolod and a three-hour drive to be on time had their effect. The fact that the Mass was in Ilonggo, which I didn’t understand, caused my mind to ponder on the occasion and to wander back to the day John Doohan had left The Hand, in Kilmurry Ibrickan parish, Mullagh, County Clare, to go to the seminary to become a Columban missionary. Today, 69 years later, we were celebrating his funeral Mass - two bishops, many priests, religious sisters and brothers and an overflowing congregation. It was a long journey, in time and distance, from Ireland to the Philippines, yet the banner over the church door, with his picture, said in large bold letters, ‘Welcome Home Father John’.

The farm house and land are no longer in Doohan hands, and the land at the foot of Mt Callan is planted with trees; yet it was home to nine children, all of whom brought that faith and dedication to whatever they did and wherever they traveled.

I felt privileged, as a fellow Clareman, a fellow student in St Flannan’s College with John and his brother, Father Michael, to have enjoyed the hospitality of that home in The Hand and now to share again in the genuine and open welcome he got on his return home to this, his last parish.

After primary school in Coor, John and others like him were day-boys in St Flannan’s, the diocesan college (high school). They stayed in boarding houses in Mill St, Ennis, and on weekends went home by trap or bicycle and returned with food and fuel.

They were used to hard work, and brought that ethic with them to the Philippines. 

In 1950, the Columbans were asked to staff the southern part of Bacolod diocese in Negros Occidental and took over four parishes. These were difficult years, with many challenges, especially in the social conditions in this sugar-growing province. Yet to-day, those four parishes, are a diocese, with a local bishop and 50 diocesan priests, in 23 parishes. John’s sister Mary, who started the Little Way Association, was a big help in this. Philomena, their sister, served as a Columban Sister, in Myanmar, the Philippines and Chile.

To his surviving brother and sister, relatives and friends, we sent our condolences and thanks; to Father John, we said thanks again, and though far from the shadow of Mt Callan, he is resting in his new home, under the volcanic cone of majestic Mt Canlaon, 2,450 meters high. May he rest in peace. Ar dheis Dé go raibh a anam – may his soul be at the right hand of God. 

By Lucille Arcedas

The author, from Kabankalan City, Negros Occidental, teaches at Colegio de San Agustin, Bacolod City, and is currently studying at Cornell University in Ithaca, New York.

‘I might be in a wrong group’, I thought as I was attending Mass. It was kind of different. After the prayers of the faithful, when the people themselves offered individual petitions and then everyone going up to the sanctuary, the priest at the center of the altar and the faithful surrounding it. My dilemma was enlightened when the priest said, ‘for Benedict our Pope, and Matthew our Bishop’. I sighed in relief.

It was 22 August 2008, my first time to attend Mass in Ithaca, New York. Before I arrived, I searched the internet and found out that there were two Catholic Churches there and also the CURW (Cornell United Religious Work) held at Anabel Taylor Hall. Each denomination has a schedule and a room where they can have their own form of worship. I knew that the room that I had just entered was the venue for Christian services but I wasn’t really sure if the service was really the Mass of Roman Catholic Rite because the priest was sitting among the congregation while giving the homily. During the Lord’s Prayer, everyone held hands. Communion was different too. A woman was the first to receive the Body of Christ and then the Precious Blood. The priest then gave each of us the Host, and the woman let us drink the Precious Blood from the chalice. Although there were two other men in the group, the altar servers were ladies. After Communion, we went back to our place and the priest read a verse from one of the letters of St Paul. The final blessing was the culmination of the celebration.

It was a nice feeling, especially on the Queenship of Mary. That first Mass was followed by other daily Masses, when I was free. My Sunday Masses were at St Catherine of Siena Parish, the nearest Roman Catholic Church to my boarding house. It is relatively small, with a very welcoming atmosphere. There are also many families who attend the Eucharistic Celebration there. I think this confirmed what I had read somewhere that divorce is very rare among Catholics in the US.

In my experience as a parishioner in the Philippines, in the Diocese of Kabankalan, my hometown, and in Diocese of Bacolod, my workplace, I observed slight differences from my communities in the USA, St Catherine of Siena and Cornell Catholic Community. The smaller number of church-goers made it possible to give Holy Communion under both forms at Sunday and weekday Masses. There are female altar servers and extraordinary ministers of Holy Communion. The Nicene Creed, not the Apostles’ Creed, is prayed every Sunday during Mass. Communications are done mostly via email and each parishioner is invited to be actively involved, especially in decision making. I don’t know if there are religious organizations in the parish, as there is not even a single Legion of Mary praesidium. Weekly parish bulletins are given and the financial statements are updated.

For a new member like me, I was given the parish kit, with all the necessary things to know about the parish, including the invitation to be involved with whatever parish ministry I wanted to help in. I’m not very active in the parish because I don’t attend any meetings or the monthly social hour.

Sacramental preparations are also longer. For one to become a Catholic, at least six months of studies and other preparations are made. They call it RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults). Even for one to have a Catholic Marriage, preparation takes longer than in the Philippines. Baptism and confirmation take place within the Mass, which make the celebration of these sacraments very meaningful both to the new members and the parishioners who welcome them. The Philippines has more symbolic Lenten and Easter ceremonies as theirs are simpler and confined to the parish compound. I have also never known of a Novena or Triduum of Masses in preparation for the feast of the patron saint, even for that of St Catherine of Siena or of the Immaculate Conception in the other parish.

As a cradle Catholic, it made me appreciate more those who were just converted to the Catholic faith, knowing their
struggles, especially with their friends in the religion they used to have, how they have studied much in search of the Truth and renouncing their former way of life. It also poses a great challenge to know my faith more and to be an agent of conversion to others.

My experience of the Catholic Church here in Asia and in the West confirmed for me the marks of the Church established by Jesus. I belong to the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church. One: In union with the Pope, even if I am far from home, I still participate in the same liturgy, ceremony and practices (John 10:16). Holy: With Christ as its founder, I am with a group of people who strive to be holy and help each other whenever someone falls (Matthew 16:18-20). Catholic: the ‘Universal Church’ for all people of all time (Matthew 28:18-20). Apostolic Succession: With Peter as the first and Benedict XVI as the 265th Pope, the people journey together to become Christ’s presence in a world where materialism is glorified through living truth in charity.

The Church is a constant sign that I am not alone in my life’s journey. Jesus manifests Himself to me through the Church and I hope that because I am its member, I can share Him with others, especially in my witnessing, in my little acts of love.


You may email Lucille at arcedaslucille@yahoo.com . 

By Fr Donal O’Dea

The parish of San Roque, San Felipe, Zambales, in the Diocese of Iba, sponsored a memorial Mass, dinner and program for the late Fr John Curry on 16 January. This was a gift of the pastor, Fr Jaime F. Escurzon, the parish pastoral council, the principal, faculty and students of St Columban's Montessori School, the alumni association and other friends.

Bishop Florentino G. Lavarias of Iba was the main celebrant, with eight Columbans and five diocesan priests concelebrating. Other diocesan priests joined later in the program.

Fr Donal ODea in his homily told how Father John, only 24 and newly arrived in the Philippines, became pastor of this predominantly Aglipayan Parish in January 1952, replacing Fr Dermot Woods, his classmate, who left due to ill health after two months. Father John had no language study or orientation. Though he left the parish in 1959 and the Philippines in 1988 because of his health, he is still remembered as a dynamic, zealous and inspiring pastor, who revitalized the parish, especially through the development of the youth. 

He opened St Columbans High School in 1955, against much opposition from an existing high school. A court case against him led to a landmark decision in education – parents have the right to the school of their choice for their children. All this was done with very limited funds.

Father John never forgot the people who helped him, and inquired about them to the end of his life and was generous. He left his heart in San Felipe, bit it was large enough to enable him to continue with the same zeal wherever he worked later.

Dinner was served at the covered court of the school, while the program of tributes took place on the stage. It opened with an interpretive dance prayer and song from the school, followed by inspiring tributes from former principals and parishioners led by Mayor Edilberto Abille, who recalled his wedding officiated by Fr Curry. Sr Yolanda Causing, a Holy Spirit Sister and one of the original teachers in the school, told how his life had inspired her vocation.

The Bishop, who had never met Father John, remarked that he had the gift of communicating to others that they were important and of value, and this inspired them to respond.

Fr Jaime F. Escurzon told how Father John had encouraged him to become a diocesan priest. The first priority of the Columbans, the missionary said, was a local clergy. 

On behalf of the Columbans, Fr Patrick O’Donoghue, Regional Superior, thanked all and hoped many would be inspired to follow Father John.

Fr John Griffin, a contemporary of Fr Curry, and a former pastor of San Felipe, received an email in New Zealand from the alumni in California telling him of the Mass. He then emailed Fr Donal O’Dea to tell him, and to ask him to represent Fr Mal Sherrard, another old Zambales hand from New Zealand, and himself at the Mass. The alumni in California are also having a memorial Mass in San Diego, as is his native parish of Knock, Ireland. Fr Silverio Deltour CICM, a friend who had worked in the Diocese of Iba, sent his condolences. His health prevented him from attending

In 1952, Zambales was part of two dioceses, with 14 parishes and two high schools, all staffed by Columbans. Today there are 23parishes, three colleges, 17 high schools and nine elementary schools, all but one staffed by priests of the Diocese of Iba.

The Columbans continued the story-telling later that evening in Immaculate Conception Parish, Barretto, Olongapo City, the only remaining Columban parish in the diocese.

May Father John Curry’s restless and impulsive heart be at peace.

Our cover shows a man holding a Rosary beads in candlelight. It reflects the man perceived to be strong relying in full confidence on a woman – Mary, by praying the Holy Rosary.

Ask your students if they know how to pray the Rosary. How often do you pray? For what intentions?

Motivate your dear students with love for the Rosary by taking some time to pray with them. ‘It also obtains mercy by gaining Indulgence (of which one a day can be plenary, if the Rosary is recited before the Blessed Sacrament or in unison with one’s family, or school group, etc. provided one goes to Confession and Holy Communion),’ from The Holy Rosary and the Saints.

By Isidro Antiquiera

The author is from Binalbagan, Negros Occidental, and has a brother, Jason, studying for the priesthood with the Columbans and currently working in the Misyon office in Manila.

Greetings of peace and happiness to you and to all the staff of Misyon.

I’m Isidro Antiquiera and I’ve been working here in South Korea since June of last year. I missed reading Misyon, which our family had been getting since I was in high school until the last printed issue in May-June 2008. Today, while surfing the internet, I remembered that the magazine is nowonline.

I want to share some of my experiences here and how I was able to get to know some of the Columban priests and lay missionaries here. 

Being a stranger in a new country with a different culture and language is really a big challenge for me. This is my first time to go abroad for work after two years of waiting, which involved a series of difficulties such as rushing to the agency only to face a long wait, doing a 12-hour night shift at work while studying the Korean language for four hours each day. I was being pressured by my officemates, some of whom had already worked in Singapore and Dubai. While I tried to keep mum they kept reminding me that I was the first to apply for overseas work but was still there in the Philippines. 

Too many extracurricular activities and thinking about my future plans landed me in hospital twice in 2007, first with a urinary tract infection and later with Bell’s Palsy, paralysis of a part of the face. Maybe my father was right, that these indicated it wasn’t my time yet to travel. 

When I left the Philippines for Korea I didn’t know what awaited me. All I knew was that I had come here for work. But I was surprised when we arrived at the factory. My work is very different from my last job where I just operated machines run by a computer and wore cleanroom garments. Here it’s the opposite. The job is in a metal factory and is very dangerous. I said to myself that I wasn’t used to this kind of work but there was no turning back. 

Stainless steel plates, sharp and heavy metal objects are around the factory and sometimes they are transported manually. On our second day in the factory we were told to lift GI sheets manually and assist the Korean workers. As the day went on I kept on praying that God would guide me every day as I was alone, far from my family. God is always there. I know he will keep us away from any danger and accident. 

In my wallet I have a Lord of Pardon booklet and every time I’m in the comfort room I take time to read it and ask for guidance and protection. In my most difficult moments I have received everything: the blessings, opportunity and talent needed.

My first encounter with Columban priests here in Seoul happened when we went caroling at the Columban house. I am a member of the Hyewadong Catholic choir. When we entered the Columban house I thought of Fr Patrick Hurley in Binalbagan, Negros Occidental, one of only four Columbans left in Negros. He was our Tatay in the church and everybody loved him. I also remembered the time I made a search-in for Columban before I graduated from high school. After we sang to the priests present, I introduced myself and mentioned Father Hurley. They told me to come and visit the house whenever I was free. 

Last Christmas Eve I attended Mass at the Columban house. There I met Son Seon-Young, Catharina, a Korean Columban lay missionary who had worked in the Philippines. Her face was familiar, from the photo album of my brother Jason, a Columban seminarian. At first I hesitated to approach her but I took courage to asked her if she had been to the Philippines with the Columbans and if she had met Jason. She introduced me to Maira San Juan and Viollie Villaraiz, two Columban lay missionaries from the Philippines, who also invited me to come to the Columban house at any time. Catharina gave me her phone number and told me if I ever had a problem to call her. 

When I had an accident last February and was advised to rest for six weeks, I grabbed the chance to visit the Columbans. Every Monday I went to the house and talked with the priests, who gave me advice about living in Korea, joining them for dinner. I also attended the St Patrick's Day celebration, 17 March. On Easter Sunday I attended the send-off Mass for Peter, a Columban lay missionary from Korea bound for Chile. I also met Columban priests from Chile, Peru, Fiji, Australia and two Filipino Columbans, Fr Leo Distor and Fr Darwin Bayaca, who came from Chicago, all involved in the formation of Columban seminarians and in Seoul for a meeting during Easter Week. Aside from the Columban priests, there were also Columban Sisters and other lay missionaries and two Korean Columban seminarians. 

It is always great for me to visit the Columbans, with whom I feel at home and welcomed. The Columban way of life for me is different. Sometimes I think of being a lay missionary. If ever that happens I want to be a Columban. But only God knows what’s best for me. Now that I’m back to work, I’m not sure when I’ll be able to visit the Columban house again. But one thing is sure: the Columbans are always there with a welcome. 

And I'm so happy that I was able to fulfill Father Hurley's message to my father - to visit the Columbans. I also thank Fr Jude Genovia for giving me some advice and hints about life here in Korea when I was still in Manila processing my papers. I thank God for giving me this opportunity and for answering my prayers. Sincere prayer and patience make a dream come true. God bless us all.

In unity and prayer
Isidro Antiquiera 


You may email Isidro at i_antiquiera@hotmail.com 

The Encyclical
Humanae Vitae emphasizes
both the unitive and
the procreative meaning of
sexuality, thereby locating at the
foundation of society the married couple, man
and woman, who accept one another mutually, in
distinction and in complementarity: a couple, therefore,
that is open to life.’
Benedict XVI, Caritas in Veritate,

Charity in Truth, No 15.

---

Martin Luther King on Leadership Martin Luther King realized what it meant to be a leader when his destiny put him in front of the civil rights movement in the United States. The following are some of the principles on leadership espoused by him as compiled by Donald T. Phillips: 
- Never seek to defeat of humiliate an opponent. Try to bring about a change of heart. 
- If your words fail, persuade with your acts. 
- Power without love is reckless and abusive 
– and love without power is sentimental and anemic. 
- Self-criticism is a sure sign of maturity -- and the first step toward eliminating any personal weakness. 
- Forge the priceless qualities of character. Teach your children’s values at an early age. 
- You must make mistakes and learn from them, make more mistakes and learn anew. You must taste defeat as well as success. - The best leaders are determined, bold, and reject inhibitions imposed by old traditions and habits. 
- Do it because it is right to do it. - Remember that the chance to act is today. The time is now. 
- Never assume that anyone understands. It is your job to keep people informed and aware. 
- Create a noble mission around which everyone can rally. - Set a precise timetable for action. 

---

Pope Benedict XVI’s Prayer Intentions for 2009
September
General: That the word of God may be better
known, welcomed and lived as the sources of freedom and joy.
Mission: That Christians in Laos, Cambodia, and
Myanmar, who often meet with great difficulties,
may not be discouraged from announcing the Gospel
to their brothers, trusting in the strength of the Holy Spirit.

October
General: That Sunday may lived as the day on which
Christians gather to celebrate the risen Lord, participating in the Eucharist.
Mission: That the entire People of the God, to whom
Christ entrusted the mandate to go and preach the
Gospel to every creature, may eagerly assume their
own missionary responsibility and consider it the
highest service they can offer humanity.

---

Facing God
Dorothy Day

We may be living on the
edge of eternity, but that
should not make us dismal.
The early Christians rejoiced
to think that the end
of the world was near, as
they thought. Are we so
unready to face God? Are
we so avid for joys here that
we perceive so darkly those
to come?

---

‘Openness to life is at the centre of true development. When a society moves towards the denial or suppression of life, it ends up no longer finding the necessary motivation and energy to strive for man's true good. If personal and social sensitivity towards the acceptance of a new life is lost, then other forms of acceptance that are valuable for society also wither away. The acceptance of life strengthens moral fiber and makes people capable of mutual help. By cultivating openness to life, wealthy peoples can better understand the needs of poor ones, they can avoid employing huge economic and intellectual resources to satisfy the selfish desires of their own citizens, and instead, they can promote virtuous action within the perspective of production that is morally sound and marked by solidarity, respecting the fundamental right to life of every people and every individual.’ Benedict XVI, Caritas in Veritate,

Charity in Truth, No 28.

---

‘Feed the hungry (cf. Mt 25: 35, 37, 42) is an ethical imperative for the universal Church, as she responds to the teachings of her Founder, the Lord Jesus, concerning solidarity and the sharing of goods. Moreover, the elimination of world hunger has also, in the global era, become a requirement for safeguarding the peace and stability of the planet.’

Benedict XVI, Caritas in Veritate,

Truth in Charity, No 27.

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Instead of loving what you think is peace, 
love other men and women 
and love God above all else. 
Instead of hating all the people 
you think are warmongers, 
hate the appetites and disorders in
your own soul which are the causes of war.

Thomas Merton

By Sr Alicia Alambra FMM

Sr Alicia Alambra FMM is a member of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary http://www.fmm.org/. She has written before for Misyon, from Bolivia.

Change is everywhere especially these days of autumn when the leaves of the trees turn yellow, orange, red, pink, brown and are later blown off by the chilly wind.

So my life this year is totally different than during my previous missions in Rome and Chile-Bolivia. I arrived in the USA province on 21 May, the birth anniversary of our foundress, Blessed Mary of the Passion, and in the receiving room or sala of our Manhattan convent her photo touched me with the message ‘We need missionaries’. This gave me the impetus to open myself to whatever He sends me. But as I look back, I was always surprised at how God has designed his ways for me: like the autumn leaves with their beauty. He continues to surprise and delight me with the gift and warmth of my Sisters, my new responsibilities and my experiences of daily adjustments and adapting to the culture.

The beauty of autumn is very visible here in the northeast of the USA and in Canada. Even our Halloween celebration features decorations from the different produce of the land. This celebration is a thanksgiving for the great harvest from agriculture.

This occasion graced also the ‘harvest’ of my new community of Sisters of different ancestry - Lithuanian, French, Irish, Indian-Goanese, Vietnamese and English. My superior is Sister Alma, our former Superior General.

The most abrupt change came to me when, on the spot, I was named Vocation Director. This entails going to the different states to promote and recruit vocations. Now I have been joining vocation promoters’ meetings in New York, Rhode Island and New Jersey.

As I go to the different activities, I have learned to find my way by bus, train, subway and car, through the use of maps. Adjusting to the culture is part of my entry to the province and I am enjoying coming to know the history of the USA, of the Church there and the reason for the birthing of the USA province.

Lately I attended religious sessions held in the Archdiocese of Boston and a weekend seminar for formators in Riverdale, New York.

We were 48 participants from different states, and from Guam, Canada and Rome. The seminar helped us reflect deeply on the encouraging viability of religious life founded on prayer, community and mission. Hoping that you enjoy the accompanying photos, may I end my sharing with this prayer:

O Lord, it is said that you have created people, nurture in me the song of a lover, the boldness of a prophet, the courage of a disciple.

Be with me as I live out my MISSION and MY STORY.
You may email Sister Alicia at aliciaalambra82152@yahoo.com

by truknoiz (Kurt Pala)

The author, from Iligan City, is studying to be a Columban priest.

‘Christi simus non nostri. Perigrinari pro Christo’, I chanted repeatedly as I walked in the dark on my last day towards Agoo. I had been walking for days and sleeping wherever darkness caught me. During the Spiritual Year, the first year of formation, it has become a tradition for Columban seminarians to go on pilgrimage either from Malolos, Bulacan, to Manaoag, Pangasinan, or from Apalit, Pampanga, to Agoo, La Union. Without money, we ask for food and water from the people we meet on our way. At night we also ask around for a place to sleep. We tell people we are on pilgrimage and don’t disclose that we are seminarians unless they ask who we really are. The pilgrimage has always been optional; each of us decides if we will make it or not. We were the sixth batch to go on the pilgrimage.

My first two days were with Etuate, a Fijian Columban seminarian, who walked with me from Apalit, Pampanga, to Gerona, Tarlac. On our first night we slept at a barangay outpost along the road in Mabalacat, Pampanga. While walking, I was wondering why I was making this pilgrimage. Etu was thinking the same thing. On our second night we reached Tarlac City. We were glad to see any church along the way because we thought it the best place to find rest, water and maybe even food.

Columban Seminarians from L to R: Erl Tabaco, Kurt Pala, Michael Boctot, Louie Ybañez and Etuate Tubuka

We came upon Sto Cristo Parish Church. It was closed but we tried to find a way. A priest came out and asked us where we were from. We were tired and covered with dust. We filled ourselves with the food he gave us and chatted with him before heading off to look for a place to spend the night. We came upon another church but we were told that they don’t allow people to sleep within the compound or inside the church. Disappointed and quite saddened, we left the church and headed off towards the center of the city. Etu was dragging himself because of his painful ankles and I told him to sit while I asked around. I was directed to the barangay hall and we went there. The people there were very concerned and allowed us to stay in a small covered area. Despite the mosquitoes, Etu slept while I tried to fend them off all through the night.

We started walking at around 2am and Etu was having a hard time walking. The wound between his thighs and the pain in his ankles worsened. Walking slowly, we finally reached the Expiatory Chapel at Gerona, Tarlac. Etu decided not to continue and I went back with him to Tarlac City so he could take a bus home.

I was now alone and I felt some hesitation as to whether I could make it on my own. I continued walking, resting for a few minutes from time to time. I could see a very long road ahead of me on this very hot afternoon. I came upon a carenderia and asked a boy for water. Another boy approached me and said that they had seen me walking from afar. They asked me questions and gave me another bottle of water as I headed for the town of San Manuel when it was already getting dark.

I felt a bit scared because I couldn’t find a house to stay for the night. I came upon a karaoke house and asked the old man there if I could stay the night. His son was uncertain and told me that I couldn’t stay because they had clients coming in for the night. I was already very tired and begged him to allow me to stay. He felt sorry for me and allowed me to stay. 

They were about to have supper and they invited me to join them. I had a good meal and soon slept. The following day before leaving around 2am, I left a note thanking. The road was very dark and I was very scared. Dogs barked at me and speeding buses and cars passed me by. It was my first time to pray the rosary repeatedly for hours while walking.

Finally I reached Pozorubbio, Pangasinan, around 3pm. I started looking for a place to spend the night because I didn’t want to be in the same situation as in San Manuel. I looked for the church went inside and rested. I then went to the parish office but I was told to wait. A priest came but seemed to be on his way to an event. I approached him and told him I needed a place to sleep. He said he couldn’t decide because the parish priest was not around and he believed that he wouldn’t allow me. He didn’t even bother to ask where I am from but directed me to the municipal hall. I thanked him and walked away.

I was very disappointed and angry. I was very tired and feverish. I decided to walk to the next town, Sison but after a few minutes I really felt like collapsing. I went to the police station and asked if I could spend the night there. The policeman had seen me walking from the church and asked where I was heading. He interrogated me and asked for identification. The policeman provided me with a place to sleep and I was able to eat a full meal. That experience changed how I perceived policemen. They were the most understanding and approachable people I met during the pilgrimage. 

I left the police station around 1:30am. Looking at the map, I thought to myself it would be a short walk. So I started walking quite fast, I could not wait to reach Agoo. By the time I was in Damortis, Sto Tomas, I was already exhausted but continued walking under the heat of the sun. I finally came upon the welcoming arch of Agoo, then a roadside marker that said Agoo was four kilometers more. But I paced myself now. I couldn’t wait to get to the church but my knees were shaking, my ankles trembling with pain and my back hurting from carrying a heavy load. My steps were becoming shorter and it took so much energy to make each one. Finally, around a bend, I saw the Basilica of Our Lady of Charity.

Like a child running towards his mother, I immediately went into the church and found myself right in front of the altar kneeling and crying. I couldn’t believe I had made it after everything I’ve gone through the last five days, walking what seemed to be an endless road.

Lessons learned and unlearned

My pilgrimage was one of the best things I have done in my life. I can think of so many things most especially about my relationships and myself with the people I met along the way and even with my God. 

Be prepared

I’ve learned that preparation means a lot, not just planning but knowing what you will go through. Preparing for the pilgrimage, I exercised and jogged everyday. It made the difference. I did not have so much pain and swelling compared with my companions. In life, we need to be prepared all the time for the unexpected. We can’t just sit around and wait. We can always do something. 

Walk (travel) lightly

I realized I was carrying too much, so many unnecessary things, because my back started to get sore. In life, we need to let go of inessentials. Life can be lived more simply but still joyfully.

Gratefulness and humility
Asking people to allow us to sleep in their place was as humbling as asking for food and water. I really felt like I was nothing before them, especially when they stared at me for a long time. This must be how beggars feel every time they raise their hands and beg. One can always be rejected and ignored. However, I have never been so grateful as I was every time a person gave me water and food or allowed me to spend the night in their place. Looking back on my life, I think I have been so wonderfully and excessively blessed by God and I want to live this life in gratitude to God for all His goodness to me and the people around me. 

Dependence and independence
Although I spent the first two days with Etu, on the rest of the way I was on my own. I realized we can sometimes be too dependent on people and need to work things out on our own. Being alone allowed me to take responsibility for myself. What was difficult was knowing that I was so dependent on people, having to ask for food and water and also for shelter at night. I have difficulty asking for help but during the pilgrimage I had no choice but to ask for it or else I’d starve and thirst. 

Handling anger and fear
The entire pilgrimage was a test for me in handling my feelings, especially anger and fear. There were times when I really felt angry and disappointed, especially when I had high expectations, such as the two occasions when my request to spend the night in or even outside a church I don’t know why I felt so angry. I told myself that those who rejected my requests didn’t contradict what a ‘church’ should be. Fear was another thing I had to struggle with. I walked a lot in the dark and was so scared but conquered my fear and was able to go through it every time. 

Judging people
I’ve learned that I can often make quick and harsh judgments of people based on some past experiences or on what people say. Unconsciously, I have already created an image of what this person is like, hindering me from really experiencing and relating to that person.

Patience and perseverance
The road seemed endless and infinite. You can easily be discouraged on pilgrimage. Yet it taught me to be patient with myself, to take things slowly and lightly. I also became patient with people. Perseverance is another virtue I learned to be necessary. When you feel like giving up, persevere. Crises or struggles are opportunities for change. I also became more optimistic and saw the better side of things and hoped that they would turn out right.

Finding God’s presence in the ordinary
One can always look for God in the great things or in the extraordinary. But I realized God is ever more present in ordinary events, people, things and places. One just needs to be more attentive, silent and discerning. 

Trust/faith, worrying and fear
The whole goal of the pilgrimage for me was to find myself trusting God more, growing in faith and love of God and then learning to let go of being in control - allowing God to take charge and to stop worrying and being fearful. It was the most freeing experience for me because it was like walking in the presence of God, walking with Him. I was no longer so concerned with ‘who I am before people’, like how I looked, and I really lived for that day, not worrying about what to eat for tomorrow or where to sleep at night the next time darkness caught me on the road.

Kurt with his family.

Moments
There were moments when I really felt God was with me all the time. Moments that taught me to be prepared for the unexpected, to walk lightly, to be grateful and humble, to find balance between dependency and independency, to handle my emotions and feelings, to avoid judging people quickly, to be patient and persevering, to find God in the ordinary, and to trust and have faith in God. 

The challenge now is how to live out the lessons of the pilgrimage, which for me hasn’t ended yet. It has just begun. I realized that life is a pilgrimage and I am a pilgrim. As St Columban wrote, ‘Christi simus non nostri’, ‘Let us be of Christ, not of ourselves’. He also lived by the words ‘Perigrinari pro Christo’, ‘to be a pilgrim for Christ’. The pilgrimage was a great way to end my spiritual year, the culmination of a journey I started when I joined the Columban formation program in June 2008, a year that was full of joy and pain but not without hope. What seemed impossible, to walk about 120 kilometers in five days passing through more than 40 municipalities and cities in five provinces, trusting in the mercy and compassion of the people we met along the way, was possible with faith and trust in God. 

You may email Kurt at kurtzion@yahoo.com or write him at: Columban House of Studies, PO Box 4454, 1099 MANILA.

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The Road to Agoo - a Poem

The Road to Agoo (Video presentation)

A journalist from Australia writes to Cecille after reading her article, A Negros Nine Baby, and remembers his time here in the Philippines covering the Negros Nine trial back in the 80s. 

Dear Cecille,

I enjoyed reading your story of a 'Negros Nine Baby' on the web.

I was working at the time of the Negros Nine trial for 'The Catholic Leader' in Brisbane. I took some leave and freelanced for six weeks to cover the trial and visit other parts of the Philippines.

During part of that time, I stayed in Fr Brian Gore's presbytery and some parishioners took me on extensive tours around the mountainous areas of the parish and to meet other people to learn more about the case.

I also visited the Negros Nine in jail several times and went with parishioners on one occasion. A whole busload went down and a big meal was cooked in the cell and it was a source of joy and festivity, despite the circumstances.

I have very vivid memories of that time.

I was very inspired by the Negros Nine and everyone I met and the Philippines overall.

May Mary continue to bless all those still associated with the Negros Nine and all the Philippines.


Cheers,

Mark Warnick