Part 2 : Full-time Work with the Church

Fr. Provincial considered the letter that I sent to him. He even asked the Head of the Board of Directors (a Salesian) if, indeed, I was showing signs of depression. He told Fr. Provincial that I was my usual self, always laughing, brightly smiling, enthusiastic in my job. Well, that was the time I truly realized that I can hide behind this smile the sufferings I carry in my heart. Wow... this can kill me, I am sure. It's but time to be true to myself!

Fr. Provincial was willing to pull me out of the school. It was just that he could not think of any option for me. I told him that it has been some time that the Catholic Tokyo International Center (CTIC), the pastoral office of the Archdiocese of Tokyo for foreign Catholics, has been asking me to give more time for them. I had been volunteering and cooperating with this office in the past 4 years from the time I was studying Japanese until this present school work. I had been asked to say Tagalog or English masses in parishes that have requested to the point that they had become regular Sunday schedule for me. I had school work from Monday to Friday. Saturday was catechism day to a group of Filipinas in block-rosary. Sunday was for masses with foreign Catholics. Add to that the usual Japanese mass assignments I would have in the morning in the nearby convents of sisters or the Japanese Sunday mass in the Salesian parish beside the school. Honestly, I truly enjoyed those Sundays. It was only on those days I truly felt that I was a priest!

So Fr. Provincial allowed me to work in CTIC. From being an "employee" in a Salesian school, I became an "employee" of the Archdiocese of Tokyo. I was asked to move to the Provincial House located within the city (and neighbor to the State Guest House!). I became full-time in my pastoral work. It was just a 15 minute ride by subway to the office. There, I was primarily tasked to formulate the program for the Bi-Cultural Catholic Youth in the diocese whose majority was already in their teens. (About this, I believe they deserve another entry in this blog!) This was my main job... being a Salesian! Happy to be Salesian, contributing to the cause of the Archdiocese, I did my job and even started implementing it through the Summer Leadership Camp that we held that year. Added to this was handling cases of Filipinos (being one of the Pinoys in the staff). I was going to the immigration center to visit detained Filipinos and English speaking foreigners. I was also asked to do a lot of translation work into Tagalog publications made by this office for parents whose kids are going to receive the Sacraments. There were also times when I was asked to interpret in court hearings, family court sessions and even discussions with NGO lawyers and Social Welfare agents. Tough work. But very encouraging, very formative and very pastoral!

Back in the Provincial House, it was getting to be different. Problems of these foreigners do not have schedules. They come as they come... and so, I found myself getting late for community prayers and meals from time to time. Yes, at first, it was only from time to time... but in those times that I was present, the rector was too sarcastic to acknowledge my presence. "Oh, Bob is here! What a surprise!" Sarcasm. Yes... it's felt. You don't need malice to feel it. Tired from all this work, all I could hear was "Why so late?!" or "It's a pity you weren't around!" Prayers were the usual monotony... you even get corrected aloud by the same rector for not reading the kanji well. Masses... well, I made it a point to be there for masses despite my tiredness only to see almost all of them sleeping in meditation and during an uninteresting homily given by the priest assigned. There was chaos within me. I was asking myself over and over again who is the good religious, anyway. Is it the one who does a lot of good? Or is it the one who just needs to be present in community schedule? ... Oh, by the way, the rector's not Japanese. I do not mean to put him down in this blog. That's his character... as all of the other confreres told me. Yet, deep within, all I was actually asking was a simple understanding.

I tried to put these things aside. I did not like to fall into self-pity. I focused more on the trust the other Salesians had on me. I felt they appreciated my presence, too. The employees of the Don Bosco Publications were also very good companions. I truly felt I was not a nuisance to them. Yet, physically, I felt that the pressure from the misinterpretations hammered on me was making me fall into eating compulsively and missing a lot of good sleep.

The problem with me was that I was not expressive enough to fight all this... to air my own opinion about these things. Maybe, because I was not yet at par with them in my Japanese. Or that, well, I just succumbed to the fact that I, my Provincial and my rector are all generations, cultures, and formations apart. But I did not like to surrender. I fought back silently. I thought of approaching it from another standpoint. And so, I started attempting to pray by myself. I started attempting to live alone.

The reason? Because I felt that the demands given to me to be a Salesian in Japan were not matching the demands to be an effective priest in Japan. Yes... admittedly, I was angry at the misinterpretations against me. But if I was to be mature enough, I was not going to let those things eat me up. Rather, I thought of using my energy to finally face the music of who I am and to which kind of life am I really called. From this year, 2005, I started thinking, praying, thinking, praying, thinking and praying... and finally asking... am I really meant to be Salesian all my life?... or is it the diocesan priest's life... in Japan?