XVIII 02

Don Bosco Academy, Mabalacat, Pampanga (Junior & Senior High School Building)

August 2, 2016.  It is one year since I arrived in the Philippines, after 15 years in Japan. I have come up with 5 realizations about myself and the things I am thankful for today. 

1) I left Japan with a heavy burden in my heart.  It was a combination of frustrations, disappointments, discontentment, discouragements. When that ANA plane left Haneda Airport that morning, I felt something light descend upon my heart.  When it landed in Manila, I felt I was finally free from all that burden. No. I do not blame whatever and whomever I encountered in Japan.  Perhaps (hopefully, perhaps!) they did not mean any harm.  It was just that things did not fit anymore with personal expectations... things did not anymore serve to make me grow in my vocation as a Catholic, a Salesian and as a priest. I saw the worst in myself in those years, at the same time that many in Japan (both Japanese and non-Japanese) were thankful they saw what they regarded was my best. After a year, I still feel a great tendency in me to block off from my memory anything that I experienced in Japan, sort of like an unconscious tendency for a voluntary amnesia.  But I consciously refuse to do that, with some effort!  I admit I came back to the Philippines convinced I did not meet God in Japan. But now, I am getting more and more convinced I was actually encountering Him there. The mode of meeting Him was not as comfortable as I had expected.  And I resolve to be patient that I can, piece-by-piece, reconstruct the puzzle He wanted me to solve through those years.

2) A man of God should never make definite plans. Once a man of God becomes a man of God, he cannot anymore make plans for himself.  God takes over.  He becomes in-charge of his life.  A 15-year old priest like me should have known that even before. But I only came to realize that 15 years later! I already had a big plan when I came back to the Philippines. I was planning to study, too! The contact persons were all listed. The virtual schedule, enthusiastically lined up.  But all the circumstances for all these plans were not dancing with time. I was made to wait. I was made to stand and sit on the sidelines, living far from where I could have been. There were times I felt people looked at me suspiciously, like some fugitive-priest hesitantly given the least harmful faculty -- offering mass. I faced myself in the mirror and saw a "jobless" priest. I even had to reckon where I should live while waiting. I did not want to be a burden to anyone.  But God had other plans.

3) There will always be someone who will treasure you, respect you and value you. I felt really awkward seeing some of the people I encountered in Japan hold back their tears in the few, accidental, unplanned despedida moments for me. I felt grateful for this particular former student who came to the rescue and offered me his place for some days. I felt loved by my father's text message telling me that I "was always welcome" at home. I felt I was treated as a real brother by the Salesians who offered their places for any pastoral opportunity. I felt I was a treasure to be invited by the Rector of Batulao to stay for an indefinite time for prayer, silence and rest. And when I remember those days when you all gave me some words of welcome, encouragement, consolation and invitation, my eyes still fill up with tears of joy.

4) Take it easy. Be quiet. Let God do the talking. The first month in Batulao saw me literally not having any assigned work. It was the first time in my life when I was the one willing not to do anything at all... And Prayer was the best I could do.  I have opted to make the usual working hours of the Salesians and the personnel as my time of silence.  In those moments, the Scriptures paved the way for my silence to listen to this Caring God.  God does correct things in us if we have swayed from what we are supposed to be for Him.  There were years in Japan when I have lost the taste and longing to pray... a result of the unwilling mixture of stress, depression and discouragement.  But He does care: He gave me those many "free" moments to bring back that longing for prayer, to replant that urge to pray, and to let blossom the joy of fulfilling that time I have to give for God, as a man of God.

5) Don Bosco paved the way. "Bob, you're asking for a sign? Well. Don Bosco's 200 years old!", as my good friend (a Salesian priest) told me a day before St. John Bosco's 200th Birth Anniversary. I arrived at the school where he was because I was invited to be part of the instruments for the Holy Mass the next day. I, who opted to go away from Don Bosco's Congregation, was being invited to be part of this important event! In those days of confusion and sense of loss, the same Don Bosco (through his Salesians) was there to tell me that everything would be alright. It has been more than 10 years since I have played the trumpet. I cannot really say I flunked.  I knew I couldn't sustain those 2nd octave notes that long anymore. But this wonderful opportunity paved the way for many, many more Salesian things!... Hearing Confessions of the Caritas Don Bosco students (for almost a month), staying in Batulao and being made to feel that I was never an outsider, the warm and brotherly love of the Salesian Community of Batulao, the trust they gave me to teach the young over there, those confessions and masses for student-retreatants who came, the Salesian events I was given the opportunity to participate, the welcoming attitude of the Salesians I met (many of whom asked, "Are you coming back?", with those happy, expecting eyes -- some were even so direct to say, "Welcome back!", even when I wasn't even that determined and decided to come back yet.  And, of course, the highlight of those wonderful months: the coming of the Rector Major... Being so blessed to find myself staying in the same place where he stayed with the other General Councillors.  Our Blessed Mother had always been there, giving me hints and signs that the Salesian way was, truly, the best WAY for me.  The approval for me to enter the ad experimentum stage (and to be the Spiritual Moderator of Don Bosco Mabalacat) was given to me by Fr. Provincial on the day Mary, Help of Christians was re-enthroned in Manila Cathedral!

Don Bosco Batulao Community with the Rector Major (center)

All through the year that passed, it was like Don Bosco had always been there, waiting, ready to embrace me and tell me, "I had been waiting for you all these years. I am so happy to have you back!"
... Me, too, Don Bosco!  I am so happy to be back! ... I have never been this happy in life!

(Written during the late hours of August 1, while assisting and accompanying a section of our Grade 9 students of Don Bosco Mabalacat.)

with the loving Community of Don Bosco Mabalacat

OLD WAYS, NEW CHRISTMAS

My first FULL Christmas in the Philippines… FULL Christmas, i.e., Simbang Gabi (Christmas Novena masses) included, after 15 years!

I was asked by the parish priest of my hometown (Binan) to help in the Simbang Gabi masses in two places near our house.   Perhaps because the masses were all done in the evening, I did not feel that tired to do the whole 9 days.  On the contrary, I felt there was much energy within me.  I felt more patient.  I felt more prayerful and reflective.  I felt there was so much to teach the people.  I felt the need to take advantage of the homilies to input some catechetical things to the people.  I was happy there were so many children in both masses.  I felt so grateful there were dedicated lay people who were there to organize, mobilize and animate the people.  Special mention goes to the Extraordinary Ministers of the Holy Eucharist and the altar servers who were always there in fair and rainy days.  I looked forward to these days.  I never felt tired.  I always felt challenged. 

On the last day, I was asked by the parish priest to also offer the Holy Mass in the nearby poor area.  (They always had the Liturgy of the Word and Communion only on the first 8 days!)  It was my 3rd novena mass for the night.  The choir was a group of poor kids, but they sang like angels with such great sense of harmony!  I was touched by the fervor of the people.  I was almost moved to tears, that on the last day of the novena for Christmas, I was offering the Holy Mass with the poorest of the poor.  I knew God was saying something here.  I knew this was really Christmas!

The 24th. Christmas Eve.  I asked the parish priest if I could concelebrate during the 10 PM Holy Mass.  The parish priest offered the 8 PM mass.  The 10 PM mass was supposed to be celebrated by the Assistant Parish Priest.  But because of some problems with traffic and the chaos of stalls, people, tricycles and cars, the Assistant Parish Priest could not arrive on time, and I was asked to start the Holy Mass as the Main Celebrant.  Oh yes, God’s great gift!… I was the main celebrant for the Christmas Eve mass of the parish church of my hometown!  Great Liturgy!  The altar was well prepared.  The altar servers were well dressed and were very solemn.  The grand choir was really grand!  The Christmas Manger was well prepared.  And the many, many faithful who came!  Many times during the mass, I found myself almost in tears.  “This is the Christmas I came from… THIS is the Christmas I came back to!”… and this is all a blessing… grace upon grace!

For this Christmas, I was given the grace of new friends, of new acquaintances, of a milder return to long-undone customs, of good laughs and wonderful exchange, of a feeling that says, “If only this were a continuous thing!”  Ah yes, this Christmas, God seems to tell me that I have already learned from my simple Japan Christmases and it’s time to go back to what I have first gone through in the past.  This time, the WORD MADE FLESH is an experience that takes on a more mature and deeper dimension of Faith.  It is funny though… this realization came from very simple experiences from usual and simple expectations!  (No wonder Jesus was born in a SIMPLE way!)

My first Christmas in the Philippines 

after all these years….

It just confirmed 

I have made the right choice to go back.  

And I am just filled with so much gratitude. 

Happy Birthday, dear Jesus!

CHRIST THE KING

Pope Pius XI

The SOLEMNITY OF OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST, KING OF THE UNIVERSE, started as “The Feast of Christ the King” in 1925.  It was instituted by Pope Pius XI and was celebrated on the last Sunday of October (logically celebrated on the Sunday before the Church celebrated All Saints’ Day on November 1st).  

And the reason of Pope Pius XI for instituting the Feast?  The world was high with NATIONALISM and SECULARISM.  Nations were high with their race and nationality.  They had leaders who lifted their spirits, opened their minds with strong nationalist influence, and burned their hearts even with hatred for others.  It was love for one’s country despite obvious problems of morality.  It was nationalism defaced by sin.  Add to that, the growing Secularism that made people lose their belief, trust and sense of God… a growing distortion of self-confidence, fading sense of religion, and an intoxicating spell of materialism.   Personally, I am sure Nationalism and Secularism were factors that drove the world to its 2nd World War.  

Rise of Nationalism in Russia

CHRIST THE KING was meant to shift the focus of the ordinary Catholic from the Nationalist and Secularist trend of those days… that JESUS is far superior than any leader, that JESUS is far better than any ideology, that JESUS has authority over the world and each one of us.  This is CHRIST THE KING.  And when we celebrate this Solemnity every last Sunday in Ordinary Time (or the Sunday before Advent begins), we are once again asked to make a CHOICE.  

I remember when the President of the Philippines came to Japan.  There was a date set aside to meet the Filipinos.  Months before this event, the Embassy sent invitations to the different Filipino communities.  (Filipinos like to form groups: geographical groups, language groups, civic groups, church groups… add to that the feuds, gossips and competition happening within and among the groups!  But I digress.)   For security reasons, those who wanted to meet the President had to register beforehand.  Since the date was set, some of them also had to file a leave from work that day.  


The day came.  They were early at the venue.  They were dressed in Filipino attire, business suits, pantsuits… They were asked to put off their cellphones or put in manner mode.  The President arrived.  Loud cheers.  Attentive eyes and ears on the usual self-promoting-pat-my-own-back achievement speech.  The event ended with lots of them taking selfies and pictures… with, of course, the President at the background on top of the stage having his own picture taken with a selected few.  

I feel bad about it.  Even today. 

Here was a majority-Catholic crowd setting a leave from work just to meet the President, when they cannot even consistently go to church on Sundays (or Saturday evenings) because of work.  

They were early at the venue, yet, they think it is normal to be late for the Holy Mass. 

They were dressed so well in their suits and best attire, yet, they don’t mind going to Mass with their casual or sexy clothes. 

Their cellphones were quiet when the President was speaking, yet, in the Holy Mass, a cellphone rings.  Some even stand up, get out of the church, answer the call or send a text back. 

They were attentive to the President’s words, yet, they don’t mind being noisy inside the House of God. 

They posed well for pictures with the President at the background, yet, they make wacky or sexy, profile, flatter-the-curves poses in front of the Blessed Sacrament in church. 

Don’t get me wrong.  I do not have any intention to put down anyone.  (I have not mentioned any particular group here.)  I just want to make a point:

The majority was not even able to approach the President and say, “Uy, kumusta na! Ba’t hindi ka sumasagot sa mga tawag ko?!”   But we can actually say the same thing to Jesus.

The President didn’t even tell any ordinary Filipino that day, “Oh, kumusta ka na?  Ang nanay mo, kumusta na?  Mukhang pagod ka ha,” as if that Filipino was known personally by the President.  But Jesus can actually tell that to anyone in his / her heart. 

After the event, the Filipinos who were excited to attend, were joyful to participate and ecstatic at the end left the venue still remaining the usual ANONYMOUS Filipino to the President.  That will never happen with Jesus.  He is God.  He knows us by name.  We are carved in the palm of His Hand.  

It really makes us think… WHO really is important for us?  A leader who gets changed every six years?… or JESUS?

Giant Statue of CHRIST THE KING (Swiebodzin, Poland)

When one is faced with a choice between a human President (whose thoughts, words and actions are willing to go against what God has designed in nature) and Christ the King (the ever loving, gentle, forgiving and just King of kings), one does obviously know the answer.

And yet, we still fail.  

HAPPY PRIEST, UNHAPPY PRIEST

It’s Holy Thursday.  Some people are still in the church before the Altar of Repose.  I have spent quite a good amount of time before the Blessed Sacrament and thoughts just come one after another in my mind... thoughts that all go back to one thing:  the Priesthood. 

I am happy as a priest.  Count me as one of those who agree that, really, the PRIESTHOOD is one great pool of happiness!  (http://www.forbes.com/sites/stevedenning/2011/09/12/the-ten-happiest-jobs/)   I have dreamt of becoming a priest from the age of 9.  I was graced to have that dream come true on December 8, 1999.  I still do believe, feel and affirm in my heart that AS A PRIEST, yes, I am happy. 

But yes, it is not the happiness that the world usually interprets as “happiness”.  It is not yet, though, the happiness that can only be felt in Heaven.  Although, I can say, “It’s close!”  It is a happiness that is mysteriously there but will always be quiet in front of worldly affairs.  It is a happiness that is restless, because no other worldly attraction satisfies it.  It is a happiness that is, indeed, a gift, a grace, and a challenge.  

Were there times when I, as a priest, felt sad, lonely and even hopeless?  Oh... lots of times!  And on this day, Holy Thursday, the day we commemorate Jesus establishing the Priesthood, I once again face myself and ask, “When were those times when I was not happy?”  And the answers were these:

1) I was not happy when I wanted to stand out.  As a priest, it is easy to stand out.  You become an instant celebrity.  People look at you.  People look up to you.  People regard you as a pandora’s box of talents.  And so I showed what I can do.  I gave what I can give.  I danced.  I sang.  I opened up every nook and corner of whatever speck of talent or ability that was taught, developed or even experimented upon in my seminary years and thereafter.  You walk into a room and someone will shout your name after that “Father!”  Ah... the delight of being known in the midst of a crowd!... and that person’s not even a relative!  But let me be honest:  I do not really stand out when I realize there are experts before me.  They are the real ones.  I was a master-of-none.  

2) I was not happy when I craved for some special attention from specific people.  Call it whatever you like.  Interpret it in any way you like.  A best friend, a close friend, a friend-friend!  A parishioner, a student, a child.  An admirer, a messenger, a fan.  The world will call us “lonely”.  A lot of people sigh that it is such a waste we are alone.  And as human beings, there are times when we look for acceptance, friendship and attention a level higher than ordinary acquaintance, a level deeper than ordinary colleagues.  But let me be honest:  when I catch myself craving for the extra attention or that special acceptance, I realize that there is one important person whom I have ignored all along --  JESUS CHRIST. 

3) I was not happy when I longed for more things.   People love to gift priests.  They know in their hearts that giving us priests this thing or that, they, in some way, fulfill what Jesus, Himself, said,  “And whoever gives only a cup of cold water to one of these little ones to drink because he is a disciple—amen, I say to you, he will surely not lose his reward.” (Matthew 10:42)   Priests get financial assistance in the form of salary or allowance, too.  And since a lot of people give cash, goods and food to priests, they end up using the money they have for other things... things that surely do not really fit into the category of what we call “simple”, both in the eyes of the world and in the eyes of Gospel.    There wasn’t a few times when I was looking and craving to buy at the electronic store -- a new camera, the latest smartphone, the best laptop, a unique gadget.  I scanned and scanned through new clothes, shoes, caps and bags.  But let me be honest:  the more I come to have something, the more I craved for something new.  And the more I craved for more, the more I felt sad at one thing -- the reality of dissatisfaction.

4) I was not happy when my creativity was beyond the bounds of priesthood.  God has gifted me with words.  I can be creative with this gift.  God has given me other gifts.  I can be creative with them, too.  But let me be honest:  when I use my creativity outside church apostolate, when I use my creativity to spite, insult or put people down, when I use my creativity to make others selfish, materialistic or vain, I feel being thrown into a great void.  I have this great, nauseating feeling that I have wasted something.  It sometimes make me vomit just thinking I have thrown away something more valuable than losing a million pesos.  Who in the world becomes happy with that feeling?  

5) I was not happy when I got satisfied with the thought, “I am just the same as the rest.”  Oh yes, be with the people.  Or, as Pope Francis would say, have the “same smell as the sheep.”  I actually thought I had to be like the sheep.  I actually though I had to be, talk, move, dress up like the sheep.  I had “to blend” with the rest.  Let the people realize that goodness exists among them.  Eat what they eat.  Drink what they drink. Dance even wilder than any of them.  But let me be honest:  I realized that my line of thought was actually the thought of the Laity.  I forgot that I am of the Ordained.  

6) I was not happy when I did not pray.  This is obvious.  We have always been taught that the priest is an “Alter Christus” (another Christ).  A priest who does not communicate with the One he stands for will never be a true priest.  A priest who forgets that his prayer is never just a personal one, but that he must pray first the prayer of the Church, for the Church, will never grow and bear fruit.  But let me be honest:  l always struggle to pray.  And when I do not pray, I get more uneasy.  And when I get more uneasy, I look for other consolations the world can offer, consolations that I have conditioned myself to have.  And when I succumb to these worldly consolations, I get so thirsty in my heart... and I long for God.  Isn’t prayer that longing for God?  Yet, I find myself not praying...

... and the battle goes on.  

                                                                                         (photo courtesy of Ted Barrera)

To you who read this, please pray for this unworthy priest.  

Of Cassocks and Clericals

It was one of those hot and humid rainy days in 1991.  I was with another seminarian.  From our seminary in Canlubang, we went to Makati for an errand and another one in Mandaluyong.  Since we were near the Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge anyway, we crossed the bridge walking to the other side.  Ah yes, that day, I was wearing my white cassock in hot Metro Manila. 

That was 1991, in my 2nd year as a professed Salesian religious, still savoring the joy and enthusiasm of finally coming to offer myself to God.  I was in the early stages of finally wearing that SIGN that made me different from other men my age.  It was a SIGN.  And the more I take care of this SIGN, the more I got conscious of the fact that I have “left the world”, am not anymore “part of the world” and that my state of life was a “foretaste of Heaven.”

What made my day memorable was not because I crossed the Makati-Mandaluyong Bridge in a white cassock, but because of what an elder priest told me some days later in the seminary:  he scolded me for wearing the cassock that day.  That was what I remember more.  What reinforced the memory was that I became the laughing stock of my co-seminarians. 

I remembering seeing those priests in Don Bosco when I was still a pre-schooler.  The mere remembrance of those priests in cassocks gave me a feeling of being “with God”, of being safe and secure, that I was in good company.  

I remembering seeing my own brother wear that white cassock for the first time way back in 1979.  From that time on, I also felt very strongly that he was not anymore a man of this world, but a man of God.   When my brother would come home for vacations, I would look with awe at that long piece of white cloth hanging behind the door.  He would bring this cassock with him when he’d go to the parish church for daily mass.  At other places, he would be wearing this cream or blue polo shirt (a clerical) whose collar is especially tailored to tuck in a “collarino”, the small version of the Roman Collar.  

I remembering seeing all these young men starting to wear their cassocks at the age of 18 or 19 and put on the Roman Collar when they had to go to classes, travel, or any other activity that was outside the Liturgy.  The other groups that followed my brother all had the same aura of those years.  When you see them wear those cassocks and clericals in the first years of their vows as young Salesian religious, there was only one thing that fired up in my heart:  my time will come, too!

Investiture Ceremony, Don Bosco Canlubang, 1990

And it did.  The Investiture Ceremony of April 8, 1990 was a very touching moment. This cassock that was now being vested on me was to be the definite SIGN of my commitment to God.  I cried with joy when it was put on my shoulders.  I cried more when I went to sacristy with my parents as the rest of the buttons were put on.  That day, the world came to know I have decided to be for God alone, and its SIGN was the cassock.  

It was unfortunate that by the time we started wearing the cassock and the clerical, it was already the 90’s in the Philippines.  The men whom we looked up to, who bravely and proudly wore their cassocks or clericals in their younger years, were now the ones going around in their t-shirts, ordinary polo and jeans. The clericals we wore were getting into a new “way of wearing” it:  unbutton the collar and let that white collarino hang from the left or right slit. It would just take a few years when some of us would start wearing the clerical instead of the cassock during Holy Mass and ordinary polo shirts or t-shirts instead of the clerical.   It was in my generation when the clerical became the shirt for formal occasions, or the usual class uniform for Theology.  The collar... well, they would come in handy for photo sessions. 

Uniqlo lahat yan!

The "Hide-the-Roman-Collar" way

I started wearing ordinary polo shirts and t-shirts even from the time I was still a seminarian.  I still wore the cassock for masses.  The clerical, I only wore them during classes and for serious occasions.  At other times, “Bosconian-be-proud” t-shirts, branded t-shirts gifted to me, polos of good taste....  During vacations, I even stopped bringing the cassock home.  The clerical was more convenient... you slip that white collar in for mass, and then do the hide-the-collar-within-the-slit after mass.  Convenience:  that was the word of the time!  Then, often, the good clothes I received as gifts were better.  I felt more free.  I did not need to be stared upon.  It was just so easy to “blend” into society. 

My first 10 years in Japan brought me a good “repertoire” of clothes I chose and bought.  I consider myself lucky for having a noisy family who critiqued my choice of colors and coordination during my childhood.  I was proud to be able to dress up in good taste.  I knew I was not “baduy”.  

Before watching SUMO

But being in Japan also made me think.  This is a country that is proud of uniforms.  The school uniform is considered formal attire and kids can wear them even during funerals and weddings.  Companies who don’t have uniforms have badges that they proudly wear on their business suits.  Buddhist priests go around in their black kimonos.  Policemen-on-break wear dark blue jackets over their uniforms just to show they are “off-duty”.  Walk around the hospital and you know who is a doctor, a nurse or the office clerk.  Why, even the traffic coordinator in construction areas wear that familiar blue overall, luminous vest and that helmet that makes you produce liters of sweat in mid-summer!  It made me think...  I, a priest... and the whole world does not know.  I, a man of God... and the whole world does not know.  

And so, after 10 years of priesthood, I decided to go back to the cassock and the clerical.  It took quite a time before I could do this again.  I had to ask people -- who mostly said they’d prefer me wearing what a priest should actually and always wear.  I had to consider my budget -- which, by God’s grace has always been stable.  I had to sort of like dig into my heart, search for those feelings of awe, admiration and joy that I had when I was a pre-schooler and as a young seminarian.  

It was actually funny to think that it took me some time to finally resolve to go back to the cassock and the clerical.  It’s funny because I did not need to think of the obvious!!!

So, what were the factors that led me to wear the cassock and the roman collar again?

1. My Franciscan Conventual classmate in theology was assigned temporarily in Okinawa.  By the time he was asked to go to their church in Tokyo, I invited him for dinner in downtown Shinjuku.  We agreed to meet at the most crowded station in the world, Shinjuku Station.  And there he was, walking in the middle of a sea of passengers going through the exit... in his Franciscan Conventual gray habit!  And I?  In  my Uniqlo attire -- from jacket to socks!  Honestly, I felt ashamed.  I thought this guy was brave enough to go through a crowded station of a non-Catholic Japan in his religious habit.  For him, he said he was just doing the obvious. 

2. If you see a Buddhist priest standing and praying with a begging bowl in front of train stations, chances are they are not real Buddhist priests.  They are fake.  They just stand there to collect money for their daily living sans proper work.  Yet, they are dressed to the detail.  I was moved to think that if people who are not really so can dress up well as if they are the real thing, what about a real priest dressing up as a real priest!

3. I noticed that a seminarian is so proud to wear his cassock (or religious habit) in the first years.  Then, after some years, content himself with ordinary, casual clothes as he grows older and older.  Isn’t it supposed to be the other way around? That one’s deepening of religious life can be seen even in one’s externals?  And so, I’d rather be  a good example to these young seminarians.  

4. I also thought the cassock and the clerical are all part of the past.  Or that it was the way people dressed before.  But if we have to stick to that “evolving” mentality, then, the cassock has become the SIGN of one’s detachment from the world.  It shows one is not carried away by the flow of fashion and personal taste.  It is a great prevention from the temptation of vanity and a good assurance of one’s poverty (since you always wear them, wash-and-wear style). 

5. I do not go with the thought that not wearing the cassock or the habit makes you be a “part of the world” or that you can easily “blend” into society.  I also do not go with the idea that wearing the cassock or the habit is not a good sign especially among poor people because they cost a lot.  Well, for what I know, Mother Teresa was concretely part of society.  She was with the poorest of the poor.  

at a park for a Pastoral
Area celebration

6.  A parishioner in the parish where I am now had not been going consistently to church for many years.  She had mixed feelings.  She said she was so busy with work.  But at the same time, she also felt that the priest at that time was not as visible.  When she accidentally came to church on the first anticipated mass that I celebrated after my transfer here... and saw me wearing the cassock... she immediately told herself that things in the parish will definitely be better.  (Well, that’s quite a nice encouragement for me.)  She was able to trust more because she saw this visible SIGN being worn by the priest.  I take this mother as a representative of the many who have already affirmed me for wearing again the cassock or the collar, as well as their own wish that all priests do the same.  

With my Canossa
elementary batchmates 

7.  And factor number 7 is this:  I just need to be who I really am, a priest.  It is not just the heart.  It is not just the mentality.  It is not just the way of living.  It is not just in the way I fulfill my priestly ministry.  If I have to be a priest, I have to be a priest 100%... and that includes what others see, the externals, the tangible.  Sometimes, it really is uncomfortable, especially when it’s hot and humid.  But I did not become a priest to be comfortable anyway.  Here is a ready-made-cross for all occasions and weather conditions!  Here is a handy reminder to my very self of what I am really called for.  

Dear young seminarian, be always happy and grateful to God for the gift of your vocation and commitment shown through your cassock or your clerical.  Yes, be always grateful.  Never content yourself on the comforts of what ordinary, casual clothes can give you.  Never desire to be “invisible” in this world.  You chose to walk that path to the priesthood, a path that has never taken any “undercover” role in the world of evangelization.  (Leave that  to the lay!)  Take care of that cassock.  Respect it and don’t let it just hang around as some piece of rag.  Take care of your collar.  That collar is meant to be shown, not hidden or tucked in.  Let your cassock and clerical be your instant instrument of evangelization.  Let them also be your instant shield from temptations.  Let them be instant reminders to you and to others that God is just among us... yes, just here among us!

"PORMA!"

I have been away from this blog a long time.  And there has been a lot of angst boiling up in me.  One of these is the anger I feel for “PORMA” priests. 
PORMA actually means “form” in English.  We usually used this word when we were in the minor seminary against some who wore the latest fad in fashion, walked as if they owned the world, acted as if they knew a lot of the world, but can never answer a simple question in class, flunks the simple tests, or even makes the best form before kicking a soccer ball and totally misses it.  PORMA.  Puro PORMA.  Yes, all form... no substance. 

Being here in Japan for almost 13 years, I feel like an impending volcanic eruption in my heart is about to happen against these PORMA priests, both here and those I see in the Philippines.  A lot of PORMA.  
Facebook allows me to see the world of some priests and those of others who are friends of friends and other friends.  Honestly, I am more impressed by those who are branded as “Traditionalists”.  Their uploaded pictures are always about their life as priests.  They are dressed as priests.  If ever they are in their casual clothes, you see them doing things that even children can appreciate.  Their status updates have sense, call for some thought or reflection, and even give information that can enrich your faith.  

As for the others.  Hmmm....  They say nobody has the right to judge others.  Yes, I dare not judge.  I am just here to express the impressions that come to me when I see their uploaded pictures and their status updates.   I see the status update of one priest and I immediately come to doubt if ever he was really aware WHO and WHAT a priest must be.  I see the uploaded pictures of this and that priest and only the word PORMA comes to me. 

Oh I did have my PORMA days as a young priest, too!  As a new priest, I felt I had something fresh to bring to this world.  As a newly arrived missionary priest here in Japan, I was aware I was bringing into this country the joy and active lifestyle of this “new generation” of priests from the Philippines!  I knew that eyes were on me.  I felt it was easy to become popular, especially in the circle of Filipinos.  You get to rub shoulders with the people whose status make you rarely see them in personal if you were in the Philippines.  I thought that the Mass has to be done in “performance level”.  Facial expressions, voice projection, and a stack of jokes and vocabulary for sermons mattered so much, I thought.  I was dressed well.  With a meager allowance, I was able to save and buy good clothes.    The only thing I was conscious of was that I should not look “baduy” (ill fashioned).  I am not handsome nor cute at all, but, just being a priest makes you become “handsome” or even “cute” to some.  You can actually feel it.  

The rise of awareness on the Tridentine Mass -- now, more properly called the Extraordinary Form of the Mass -- and the release of “Summorum Pontificum” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Summorum_Pontificum)  by Pope Benedict XVI got me knocked out of this “porma world”.  Of course, a big chunk of this “reawakening” is the realization that despite the growing popularity that I was coming to have (even among the Japanese Catholics in the diocese) I was still (and am still) a very sinful person... weaknesses that were cheated by false consolations of fame and good reputation.  I just felt I just needed to be PRIEST.  No... not just in the heart.  This PRIESThood needed to be felt by this being who has five senses, too.  I had to see myself as a PRIEST.  I had to feel myself as a PRIEST.  I had to smell that fabric characteristic of PRIESTs.  I had to hear myself being a PRIEST.  

I stopped singing in public (except if it is a prayer in the Mass).  I dared not join any dance.  I had to be firm not to join any of those parlor games that promoted physical contact.  In picture takings, I did not allow anybody to touch me.  If people have to realize that PRIESThood is such a holy thing, I had to start on it myself... acknowledging my being human and at the same time knowing it had to be “apart” from the usual thoughts of the world.  Yes, this body... this self.

It is hard.  It is hard when you have already crossed the line of being “like one of the rest”.   It is hard to come back to the very ideals you held dear in the very first days of seminary or in the very first years wearing the Cassock or the Roman Collar.  Sometimes, I feel like removing this white thing in front of my neck when I am in a public transportation.  Sometimes, I feel lazy wearing the cassock.  But I have to fight it, in God’s grace.    Usual Catholics may say, “Then, don’t wear it.  Lots of priests don’t wear it anyway.”  Yet, it’s like telling a policeman not to wear his uniform, or a married person not to wear his/her wedding ring.  Ah yes... I did not become a priest to become an “undercover” witness of the Gospel.  I belong to the more obvious category.  In some way, I do not need to open my mouth to tell people that I am a “Man of God”.  
Rather than be “like the rest of the guys”, rather than do things that even the usual men down the streets can do even in their sleep, if a priest just stays on BEING A PRIEST... he does not need to do any PORMA at all!

(... and the ranting goes on....)

KURA PAROKO

OK.  Now I have time. 

And the energy within me wants to post something on this blog!

Thank you, Lord, for this time!  Holy Spirit, please lead me. 

Effective Easter Monday of this year (April 9, 2012), I became the Parish Priest of a parish in a place called Atsugi.  At the same time, I am also Parish Priest of another place 30 kms. away, called Tsukui.  Atsugi has a wide territory as a parish.  It has Atsugi City, Isehara City, Ayase City, Ebina City and their surroundings, as far as the town called Aikawa.  Yes, it’s like having the whole Metro Manila as one parish... but there are actually only like 1, 200 in the list of parishioners, minus the hundreds of non-Japanese (especially the Filipinos, South Americans, Vietnamese).  Tsukui is a small parish -- with around 200 in the list.  Mass attendance?  Atsugi has around 450 for the 3 masses in the weekend, Tsukui has around 50.  

This is the first time I assume a Parish.  The bishop already hinted about this as early as September last year, when, in front of me, he was telling a priest from Tokyo (whom I personally know) that it was about time I become “independent”.  Then, he personally told me to “Get ready!” during our spiritual retreat in October.   I was finally told where I would go in the last week of February.  And, honestly, it was quite a surprise that I was assigned to this big parish!

When the bishop finally announced the new assignments during our monthly Clergy Meeting in the last Tuesday of February, his reason for putting me here at Atsugi and Tsukui was -- as far as I can remember -- because I am still “young” and because I am a non-Japanese priest who can be in a very international parish like Atsugi.  Honestly, I didn’t feel flattered at that time.  I felt more pressured. 

Anyway, I transferred to Atsugi last April 13th... a Friday-the-13th! (hahahah!)  That was the best day I could transfer after those busy weeks of packing my things, of joining the Gloria Boys’ Choir for their Portugal-Spain Concerts, of the usual demands of the Holy Week, and of goodbye’s in Kamakura with some parishioners and benefactors.  

I left Kamakura after the usual 9 am weekday mass, after some last clean-up and farewell.  I arrived at noontime (around 12 nn), put down my things, checked the boxes that were put in by the movers some days before, took lunch with some mothers who made last minute  touches in cleaning the priest’s residence, and later on went to the City Hall and local Police Station to have my address changed on my Alien Registration Card and my Driver’s License, respectively.  People started coming that afternoon for some consultation and scheduling.  The same, too, the day after.  Masses in the parish started that Saturday evening.  That was the start of my journey as Parish Priest.  Together with these little bits of memories was the first Parish Council meeting here in Atsugi the Sunday after my transfer... yes, they started without me!!!  That’s some “good” memory!  Couple it with the flu I had 2 weeks after my transfer... my first time to be sick alone, literally alone!

By the 13th of this month, I shall be marking my first 3 months in this parish.  So far, what have I come to learn and what have I come to be doing?  Here are 10 random things:

1) I have put back the Monday morning mass at 7 am.  I have also introduced the Saturday morning mass at 7, since its liturgy is different from the Anticipated Mass in the evening.  Masses everyday, with a short homily during the weekday masses.

2) I have come to wake up early once again... finally!  Since I am the only priest here, I do not have to depend on other priests for mass in the morning.  So, no matter how late I sleep, I always have to wake up at 5:30 everyday!  Wow!  This is one reason why seminary life had to start early... and it took me about 10 years to finally apply it!

3) This is the first time in my life that I am literally living alone!  I have lots of brothers and sisters.  I entered a minor seminary and took 17 years before I became a priest.  As a Salesian priest, I lived with the community.  As a newly incardinated diocesan priest, I lived with 2 other priests in my first years of ministry in the parish.  And now, I am alone.  I know God has prepared me for this.  That is why I don’t feel lonely nor afraid.

4) I cook my own food.  I do the laundry.  I clean the whole priest’s residence.  Unlike other priests in other churches, I do not allow parishioners to just come in and out to clean, cook, do the laundry.  I reserve the priest’s residence for the ordained only.  I want to show that THERE IS REALLY A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN BEING AN ORDINARY CATHOLIC AND BEING ORDAINED.  I better let some mystery stay in the minds of people -- especially the young -- as to what is inside the priest’s residence... it’s one way to challenge them to become priests, themselves.  

5) I now make a weekly “bulletin” from the Parish Priest to the parishioners, just like those made in the States.  This was originally the mass schedule being printed every week.  But since it looked so bare and it was only printed on one side, I thought that this could be a good chance to make use of the space behind and make a better layout.  I put a little reflection of the gospel that Sunday and even some announcements.  It’s taxing to do this every week.  But since the feedback has been very good, it just needs to be continued... one great way to do evangelization, too!  (Thanks, Apple for those ready layouts in Pages!)  

6) I have come to value more prayer and prayer time!  I am alone.  I have to make time for prayer!  Or else, I find myself being so busy doing a lot of things, or just plainly doing nothing in front of the TV.  So, pray!  Pray!  Pray more!  Yes, truly, handling a parish does not just entail a good amount of common sense and administrative skills.  More so, Prayer is a very important factor.  Here is where I come to feel and realize that, truly, IF A PRIEST DOES NOT PRAY, THE PARISH BECOMES A MERE ORGANIZATION of people who like each other and of people who are indifferent to each other. 

7) Our parish here in Atsugi is “poor”!  We only have a white chasuble, some albs, lots of stoles, though.  But liturgically, we are still lacking!  (Now who among those priests before me got contented with just an alb an a stole for mass?!!!)  We do not have a cope.  We do not have a monstrance stand.  We have St. John the Baptist as the Patron Saint of this parish and there is only a small (well, well done!) statue of the saint.  And our seats... they are all folding chairs... to think that this church started in 1970!  Oh my... so many things to order and purchase for this church to make it look like a church and liturgically function well.  Truly, in liturgy, WE SHOULD NOT SACRIFICE THE MEANING FOR THE PRACTICAL. 

8) My personal schedule is, more or less, fixed but people come and go.  I was in the middle of relaxation and a parishioner dies. I’m in the middle of my cooking and the doorbell rings.  I am in the middle of work and the phone rings.  I am in the middle of making this blog post and someone just came to request masses and confession.  Wow!  This is being a priest!  This just gives me more confirmation that A PRIEST DOES NOT BELONG TO HIMSELF AT ALL.

9) I have come to value the Cassock and my Roman Collar more.  Why should I hide my being a priest?  Or, even if I do not have the intention to hide it, WHY SHOULD I NOT MAKE THE OTHERS HAVE THE CHANCE TO KNOW I AM A PRIEST?

10) I am a priest.  I am a parish priest.  Others congratulate me for it, as if I was just “promoted”.  Oh my.  Now I know that it is not me who makes my priesthood.  And I do not have any right at all to put myself in the pedestal just because I am a priest... just because I am a parish priest.  I’d better be a no-nonsense person here.  I just have to be a priest.  I just have to do what a priest must do.  That’s all.  And that “Bob” has to go backstage.  

Picture: First Communion in Atsugi Catholic Church (June 10, 2012, Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ)