The influence of the Catholic Church on the way we conduct our lives is quite strong and pervasive. As a boy growing up in a village in Quezon Province, I experienced it practically in all aspects of our lives, from baptism and confirmation to the fiestas; May-time processions of flowers and candles; weddings; and, of course, during wakes.
The priest is always there presiding over rituals and ceremonies, giving sermons and spiritual advice on occasions during our growing -up period and even in old age when one needs counsel to endure pain and accept the inevitability of death. During the years when I refused to go to Mass and participate in Church activities, I would steal some moments to go inside the Church or chapel when it was empty and find solace in just looking at the altar, stained windows and hearing in my heart the silence of the universe, as it were.
In college, when I learned in our sociology class that there is no universal standard of religion, I started to read a lot about other religions, Protestantism, Buddhism, Hinduism and the Muslim faith in a quest for something to believe in. There was intellectual ferment on the campus in those days. The writings and pronouncements of a group called freethinkers challenged from day to day the beliefs instilled to us by our Catholic faith.
Aside from this interest in other religions, I experienced during those years in the Sixties stimulating conversations not only about whether God existed or not, but the various philosophies being taught in courses or by reading them in the campus library and being talked about in the coffee shops and bar joints: existentialism; transcendatlism; logical positivism; and, finally, Marxism. It was a period of ferment, of looking for certainties, and enduring truths about life but in the end, we all ended up, like a procession, by the door of the church whose rituals we had abandoned.
The jolly Pope John XXIII, who walked down streets in sandals, briefly captured our fancy and most of those who had left the Church came back attracted by his populist and pro-poor rhetorics. When he died, a little bit of us also died with him. This was how influential the Catholic Church is in our lives.
It was only in 1987 when I returned to the practice of the Catholic faith, going to Mass, taking communion and all that stuff. Several personal tragedies struck, such as the passing away of my Mother the year before, and my Lola's demise on this year, just after my girl friend left me. My close friends brought me to the Jesuit Retreat House in Banawa Hills, Cebu City, where I came under the tutelage and care of a 42-year old activist priest, Fr. Bliss Cavan. For two weeks, he patiently mentored me on the faith, just the two of us, until I could walk again confident in the knowledge I do not really walk alone.
My decision to leave in Bohol, bringing here the remains of my mother, lola, and sister, including those of a half-sister, was pivotal in so many decisions I would make later about how to spend the remainder of my life. Most importantly, I was able to endure pangs of conscience and guilt feelings about my inability to get my mother, grandmother and my sisters out of poverty. It took me years to overcome these guilt feelings and again, it was the Church I turned to for guidance.
Like other Catholics, I have followed the sex scandals and some other unsavory incidents involving the Church but by and large, we remain loyal to what it says regarding the values to guide one's life. Given its 1.2 billion members, of varying degrees of loyalty to its beliefs, the transformation of the Church will be one of the wonders of the century. More than the washing of feet and the walking down urban streets, the Church has to be an institution genuinely committed to the world's poor.
It will be a great thing, a miracle even, if it happens in our lifetime.
The priest is always there presiding over rituals and ceremonies, giving sermons and spiritual advice on occasions during our growing -up period and even in old age when one needs counsel to endure pain and accept the inevitability of death. During the years when I refused to go to Mass and participate in Church activities, I would steal some moments to go inside the Church or chapel when it was empty and find solace in just looking at the altar, stained windows and hearing in my heart the silence of the universe, as it were.
In college, when I learned in our sociology class that there is no universal standard of religion, I started to read a lot about other religions, Protestantism, Buddhism, Hinduism and the Muslim faith in a quest for something to believe in. There was intellectual ferment on the campus in those days. The writings and pronouncements of a group called freethinkers challenged from day to day the beliefs instilled to us by our Catholic faith.
Aside from this interest in other religions, I experienced during those years in the Sixties stimulating conversations not only about whether God existed or not, but the various philosophies being taught in courses or by reading them in the campus library and being talked about in the coffee shops and bar joints: existentialism; transcendatlism; logical positivism; and, finally, Marxism. It was a period of ferment, of looking for certainties, and enduring truths about life but in the end, we all ended up, like a procession, by the door of the church whose rituals we had abandoned.
The jolly Pope John XXIII, who walked down streets in sandals, briefly captured our fancy and most of those who had left the Church came back attracted by his populist and pro-poor rhetorics. When he died, a little bit of us also died with him. This was how influential the Catholic Church is in our lives.
It was only in 1987 when I returned to the practice of the Catholic faith, going to Mass, taking communion and all that stuff. Several personal tragedies struck, such as the passing away of my Mother the year before, and my Lola's demise on this year, just after my girl friend left me. My close friends brought me to the Jesuit Retreat House in Banawa Hills, Cebu City, where I came under the tutelage and care of a 42-year old activist priest, Fr. Bliss Cavan. For two weeks, he patiently mentored me on the faith, just the two of us, until I could walk again confident in the knowledge I do not really walk alone.
My decision to leave in Bohol, bringing here the remains of my mother, lola, and sister, including those of a half-sister, was pivotal in so many decisions I would make later about how to spend the remainder of my life. Most importantly, I was able to endure pangs of conscience and guilt feelings about my inability to get my mother, grandmother and my sisters out of poverty. It took me years to overcome these guilt feelings and again, it was the Church I turned to for guidance.
Like other Catholics, I have followed the sex scandals and some other unsavory incidents involving the Church but by and large, we remain loyal to what it says regarding the values to guide one's life. Given its 1.2 billion members, of varying degrees of loyalty to its beliefs, the transformation of the Church will be one of the wonders of the century. More than the washing of feet and the walking down urban streets, the Church has to be an institution genuinely committed to the world's poor.
It will be a great thing, a miracle even, if it happens in our lifetime.
Nestor, I have always believed in the power of your prose. To me what I've just read is more poetic than some of the prose I've read in my lifetime. But then again this is just MY opinion,you don't have to take me seriously. It's part of my unintentional eccentricity: my stubborn insistence on living on the edge, so I won't take up too much space in this uncomfortably crowded world.(Strange thing to hear from someone who lives in a very underpopulated state (Oklahoma is about the size of the Philippines in area, but the population is under five million).
ReplyDeleteSpeaking my mind has alienated me from some people, close friends and relatives included. I have but around 20 close friends that keeep in touch with me. But enough of that Me crap. I was just trying to give you an idea where I'm coming from.
That was an interesting overview of your evolution as a Catholic. Since I'm being candid, did you know that back in Lucena someone from U.P. said that like most students there you had become an atheist or an agnostic at best. Don't you worry.I heard the same about my brother Manuel. I didn't believe it, but mainly (this is ridiculous) because I knew how close you were to Ms. Unson and Mil. Those two would've been on your back if you had left the Catholic church.
In spite of everything I still consider myself a Catholic. By everything I mean all the reservations and objections I have about Catholic practices. But just because I see what's wrong with the church does not mean I consider it inferior to other christian churches or other religions. Far from it. I just believe it could be better. It's just similar to how I feel about my family. I can tell each one what I think is wrong with what he or she does, but it doesn't mean my love and loyalty for all of them is gone. And I would come to their defense if anybody dared to put them down. I am a staunch defender of the Catholic church, but I am not blind to its shortcomings.
You have literally uprooted yourself and your loved ones from Quezon, but as far as I am concerned what you have done for the Boholanos has not diminished its importance just because you had not done it in Quezon. That would be like saying my teaching was meaningless because I had taught here in America. We are all children of God.
Take care.
Al, I have always admired your honesty and the candid way you express your thoughts. From way back, my image of you is as a scholar who spends time to dissect whatever come your way as provocative thoughts and then share honestly your own reactions and feelings. I am happy to have you as a friend. Thanks for being a free spirit and sharing your own thoughts with us. We share your enlightened approach to our faith and pray we may still see the transformation of this institution in the context of Jesus' love and commitment to the poor. God bless!
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