JESUIT TERTIANSHIP IN THE PHILIPPINES

Ministry on Two College Campuses

2008-03-02T14:42:00.000-08:00

The last phase of the Jesuit tertianship program here in Manila has been a three-week period of “elective ministry.” I elected to pursue campus ministry work on two college campuses here in Metro Manila: Ateneo de Manila University and The University of the Philippines (my parents' college alma mater). While three weeks is, frankly, a very short time to gain any depth of involvement in a ministry, this last phase of tertianship did give me a good taste of pastoral work among students in two of the top university campuses in the Philippines. I was privileged to work with Fr. Jessel (Jboy) Gonzales, SJ, Chaplain at the University of the Philippines. He is quite literally a one-man campus ministry team at this very large (and demanding) university. By contrast, Ateneo de Manila has a team of nine young campus ministers, headed by Fr. Bob Buenconsejo, SJ.

Most of my work on both campuses was sacramental – presiding and preaching at daily and Sunday eucharist, and celebrating the sacrament of reconciliation. You may or may not know that the Philippines is a largely Catholic country, due mainly to its 300+ year status as a colony of Spain. Filipino Catholics tend to be very devotional and sacramental in their faith. It is no surprise, then, that the demand for daily and Sunday eucharist is very high. Each weekday at the College Chapel of the Ateneo de Manila, there are three or four masses celebrated – more than some parishes offer back in the US. On Sundays at The Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice at the University of the Philippines, no fewer than twelve masses are celebrated – on the hour from 5am to 11am and on the hour from 4pm to 8pm. Needless to say, I celebrated A LOT of masses on those campuses! I also heard A LOT of confessions in my three weeks of ministry there. I was both surprised and consoled to see so many college students availing themselves of the sacrament of reconciliation, a sacrament that, for many reasons, has been suffering a lag in devotion in the Church. Be that as it may, my fellow priest confessors and I found ourselves sitting for hours at a time hearing college students' confessions. In addition to sacramental work, I also indulged in spiritual ministry, mainly through offering days of recollection to various student groups on both campuses. One recollection that I particularly enjoyed preparing and offering was a recollection I gave to a group of liturgical instrumentalists at the University of the Philippines. While some of these musicians are music majors at UP’s conservatory of music, others pursue music as a serious avocation during their college years. I had them praying and reflecting for the first time on the powerful role of music in the liturgy and their identity as ministers in the liturgy. That particular recollection brought me back to my own passion for music ministry in the Church!

The value that any university community places on faith is evident in the kind of chapels it builds for the faithful. The Church of the Gesu, one of the newest buildings to grace the Ateneo de Manila campus, is a gem of a college chapel. Its contemporary design sweeps the eye upward to a gleaming silver cross that crowns the white triangular pyramid chapel structure. The dramatic roofline contains many glass panels, allowing plenty of natural light to flood the chapel interior. Two handsomely appointed smaller sub-chapels are tucked away in the rear corners of the Gesu. The sanctuary of the Gesu is spare but elegant, featuring a large altar whose immense boulder base was quarried not far from the chapel premises. While the Gesu is not a parish church, alumni and friends of the Ateneo de Manila have been gathering on the first and third Sundays (and first Fridays) of every month to worship since its dedication in 2006. The Gesu also hosts numerous liturgical celebrations for the Ateneo de Manila Elementary School, as well as the Ateneo de Manila High School, both of which are located on this same university campus. Also modern and “ahead of its time” is the Chapel of the Holy Sacrifice at the University of the Philippines. Dedicated in 1956, this chapel was the vision of Fr. John P. Delaney, SJ, who served as university chaplain during the late 1940s through the mid 1950s. My own dad became a disciple of this charismatic Jesuit and even served as one of the pall bearers at Fr. Delaney’s funeral back in 1956. The chapel was revolutionary in its pre-Vatican II. The chapel is circular is design, with the altar smack dab in the middle of the congregation – the first “church in the round” to be built in the Philippines. The chapel has no walls per se, but giant struts rise to support a huge concrete dome, covering the sanctuary and congregation. A large circular skylight at the top of the dome allows natural light to stream in and illuminate the giant double-sided bronze crucifix, which hangs above the altar. Fr. Delaney, who designed the chapel, celebrated only one mass – Christmas Eve 1956 – before he died an untimely death at the age of 50. The chapel stands as a memorial to a Jesuit who brought thousands of young Filipino faithful closer to the Lord. Each time I presided at the eucharist there, I felt deeply honored to stand where Fr. Delaney once stood, at the altar he dreamed would feed so many on the sacrament of the eucharist. That it still feeds so many is a testimony to Fr. Delaney’s legacy of ministry to the Catholic community of UP.

All in all, I found my three weeks on the two campuses to be very fulfilling. Campus ministry, like so many other ministries in the Church, is based largely on fostering relationships. Three weeks was hardly enough time to foster deep and lasting relationships with the students of Ateneo and UP, but the ministry on these campuses did give me a good sense of the hunger for things spiritual among the students of these top universities. It clarified for me how we as Jesuits are well-suited to engage young people in experiencing and reflecting on the living God. It also reaffirmed in me my role as priest and minister: not to save souls, but more to put souls in touch with the One who DOES save souls -- Jesus Christ. Soli Deo Gloria!

Studying the Jesuit Constitutions

2008-02-06T18:03:00.001-08:00

Well, it’s February. Hard to believe that I’ve reached the final month of the Jesuit Tertianship program here in the Philippines!

We tertians spent the month of January in an intensive study of our Jesuit Constitutions. Like the 30-day Retreat, studying our Constitutions is a non-negotiable element of all Jesuit Tertianship programs. We Jesuits first study our Constitutions when we are in the novitiate – that is, within his first two years of our formation in the Society of Jesus. We return to a formal study of the Constitutions only one other time, and that is in our tertianship, many years later. Needless to say, my own study of the Constitutions in my tertianship has been a much more meaningful experience than it was when I was a 22-year old novice. A heap of lived experience as a Jesuit has given me a much greater understanding and appreciation of what St. Ignatius Loyola succeeded in doing when he wrote the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus.

Ignatius undertook the formidable and thankless task of writing the Constitutions soon after the Society of Jesus was officially established in 1540. It took him the better part of his remaining sixteen years to complete the project. It was not an easy task for Ignatius to document the many details of how his order was to be run, and even though he did have assistance, Ignatius’ hand is clearly in every one of the document’s ten sections. The Constitutions begin with the Formula of the Institute, an official document which makes explicit the purpose and function of the Society of Jesus. This is followed by the General Examen, a lengthy document written for men seeking admission to the order, outlining in a detailed way what aspirants can expect in their formation and apostolic lives as Jesuits. All of this is followed by the 10-part Constitutions proper, covering topics which include: admission into (and dismissal from) the order; the various stages of formation; the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience; maintaining unity within the order; governance; and mission of the order. In addition to reading the Constitutions, we were also asked to read the Complementary Norms, a lengthy document promulgated by the Society of Jesus’ 34th General Congregation in the mid 1990s. Currently published in tandem with the Constitutions, the 10-part Complementary Norms are meant to be a contemporary “renewal” of our life and our apostolic work. Finally, our tertian instructor had us read and study a number of detailed, scholarly commentaries on both the Constitutions and Complementary Norms. Needless to say, our month-long study had us tertians feeling like we were back in graduate school!
Under the tutelage of our tertian instructor, we met every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday through the month of January (Tuesdays and Thursdays were meant to be “reading days”) to share our reflections, observations, insights, and questions about our “rule,” which we read and studied section by section. We prepared and analyzed a number of case studies, based on real-life situations in the Society of Jesus. These were a great help to us in appreciating the continued importance and relevance of the Constitutions and Complementary Norms of our order. Also invaluable in our discussions were the candid reflections and insights of both our tertian instructor, Fr. Roger Champoux, SJ, and our assistant tertian instructor, Fr. Bill McGarry, SJ. Their combined wisdom, gained from a wealth of practical experience in the Society of Jesus brought life ,to what might otherwise be seen as just so many words and ideas.

I have come away from my study of the Constitutions with a far deeper appreciation of our sainted founder’s pain-staking work in formulating the Society of Jesus’ “way of proceeding.” Amidst the hundreds of pages of norms and regulations, what stands out clearly to me is the centrality of mission in the Society of Jesus; that everything in Jesuit life is directed towards and is supportive of the world-wide mission of the Society of Jesus: the “helping of souls” through education, evangelization, pastoral and sacramental ministries, or any number of other ways. Our formation, our living the religious vows, our governance, our prayer, and our sense of unity are all clearly directed to the accomplishment of our collective mission.

While it was a challenging month of study, it was also a gratifying experience. Not many other religious orders grant their members time out of their busy ministerial lives to seriously consider the spirit and content of their founder’s rule. I am deeply grateful that the Society of Jesus gives us in our tertianship the opportunity to re-anchor ourselves in our founder’s vision. After the Spiritual Exercises, the Constitutions are perhaps St. Ignatius Loyola’s greatest legacy to the order he founded, a document which in its lived reality has fortified and sustained the Society of Jesus in its faithful service of the Church for over 450 years. Ad majorem Dei gloriam!

Family Reunions

2008-01-25T18:07:00.000-08:00

Christmas morning mass and the baptism of eleven children (!) would be my last sacramental duties of my Christmas ministries in the Mountain Province. I knew it would be hard to say good-bye to the good people of Bauko. In my ten-day stay, I had grown very fond of the parishioners at Our Lady of Lourdes Church, as well as the students of Bauko Catholic School. Many of the parishioners and students were there to see me off, waiting 45 minutes with me on that sunny Christmas morning for my ride to arrive and drive me the four-hour trip from Bauko to Baguio, where I would catch a bus back to Manila. With a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye, I waved good-bye from the window of the pickup truck, then hunkered down for a long, long journey back to the big city where I would be reunited with my family.

Traffic was light on the rocky, dusty road from Bauko to Baguio. What normally would have taken five to six hours took only four. But in that drive down from the highlands, I took in, one last time, the breath-taking vistas and terraced landscapes of this far-away region of the Philippines. Once in Baguio, I bought a ticket for the 3 o’clock coach to Manila. Six hours on the bus was draining indeed, but I kept my mind on the fact that at journey’s end would be the beginning of a joyous family reunion.

The bus pulled into the station in Manila around 9:30pm. My cousin Tina and her husband Roque were there to meet me and to take me to the hotel where Mom, Dad, Maria, Ron, Michelle, and my little nephew Mateo had been staying since their arrival one week before. It felt almost a bit surreal to see them all! After hugs and kisses, we sat down to a midnight snack in the hotel suite, and I regaled them with stories of my adventures in the Mountain Province.

The next day we traveled to Pampanga, a large province just north of Manila, where Dad grew up. I celebrated Mass in a chapel built by one of my paternal great uncles, Monseignor Florentino Guiao, who passed away almost ten years ago. Mom and Dad even brought a special chalice for me to use. The chalice once belonged to my great uncle and was presented to me at my own ordination in 1999. Gathered there were a number of Dad’s relatives and hometown friends who cared for Dad’s parents in their golden years. We all enjoyed a lovely luncheon buffet after Mass. It felt wonderful to celebrate with Dad’s family, in his very hometown.

The next day was Mom’s family’s turn: The Bigornia Family Reunion. My family and I traveled about three hours south to the city of San Pablo in the province of Laguna. There we met up with all of Mom’s five siblings and their families in a lovely resort called Bato Springs. It was great fun to see everyone (some 60 of us), even my Auntie Tessie and her family from New Jersey, all together, for the very first time! We all donned specially made T-shirts, each emblazoned with “Bigornia Family Reunion” on the front and our respective names on the back. Mom and my cousin Tina arranged to have the T-shirts made in six different colors for each of the six families represented: red for our family, purple for my Uncle Ed’s family, black for my Uncle Bob’s family, blue for my Uncle Dan’s family, yellow for my Uncle Junie’s family, and orange for my Auntie Tessie’s family. The “color coding” really helped us keep track of who belongs to whom! We feasted on a buffet lunch of Filipino favorites, then swam in the resort’s cool, clean lagoon which was fed by a fresh water spring – a piece of tropical paradise.
There were games, merienda (i.e., Filipino snacks), story-telling, and lots of chatting and picture-taking with dozens of cousins.
The time went quickly by, but we savored every moment, down to our fond farewells at day's end. While none of us knows if we’ll ever have a family gathering quite like that again, I prayed a special prayer of thanksgiving that night for the beautiful and irreplaceable gift of family. No matter how far we may be spread across the globe, no matter how many joys and sorrows our families have faced over the years, we remain so very dear to each other. And perhaps that’s what December 27th was for us all -- a day to celebrate together the simple truth that we are and will always be so very dear to one another. Deo gratia!

Christmas in the Mountain Province

2008-01-12T00:21:00.000-08:00

As I mentioned in my last blog post before the holidays, Christmas during my tertianship year would be very special experience. I really didn’t know what to expect, except that I would be in a very remote place in the Mountain Province, and that my ministry would be assisting in a parish church during the nine days before Christmas.

ARRIVAL IN BAUKO -- After a five-day stay in the town of Bontoc (the capital of the Mountain Province), I headed to a town called Bauko, about 20 km southwest of Bontoc. A diocesan priest from a neighboring town drove me the 60-minute journey to Bauko along the rough, unpaved roads common in these Filipino highlands. It was about 10pm by the time I arrived at the rectory of Our Lady of Lourdes Church in Bauko, so I had to wait until morning to see the stunning beauty of this town’s countryside. A starry sky glittered above as I was welcomed by four smiling but shy teenagers. Sarah (16), Arleen (14), Labrador (16), and Elmer (15) grabbed my bags from the back of the truck and ushered me into the rectory. They showed me to my room and wished me a good night. “We’ll wake you at 4am, Father. Mass will begin at 5am in the church.” They giggled when they saw my wide-eyed reaction. Actually, I knew that Mass would be early, as this would be the first of the nine Simbang Gabi Masses, a pre-dawn Eucharistic novena unique to the Philippines, celebrated during the nine days before Christmas. And indeed, right at 4am, the church bell began to peal, and I was up and running for my Christmas ministry in the Mountain Province!

Though the hour was early and dawn’s early light was still an hour away from showing, hundreds of Bauko faithful streamed into the stately mountain church, filling it to near capacity. A choir of teenage boys and girls sat in the rickety front pews and belted out the hymns and acclamations, singing in both Tagalog (the Philippine national language) and in their native Igorot dialect called Kankanae. The readings were read proclaimed by the lectors in Kangkanae, while I presided and preached in English, which the citizens of Bauko speak and understand rather fluently. After the Mass, I was warmly greeted by the parishioners who seemed sincerely happy to welcome me to their parish church for my short Christmas stay.

As I walked out of the Church after Mass, my jaw dropped as I looked out upon one of the most beautiful vistas I have ever seen – a glorious sun rising above the soft, pine covered mountains. A light fog was lifting, revealing a valley decked in the gorgeous shades of green of the banana and papaya plants and terraces of young rice and vegetables. The air was cool, clean, and fresh – a far cry from the smog-laden air of Manila. Every single morning of my stay in Bauko was just that beautiful!

PARISH MINISTRY -- My main ministry in Bauko was to preside and preach at the nine Simbang Gabi Masses, both at Our Lady of Lourdes Church in the center of town, as well as a second Mass each day in a small chapel in a barrio (village) at the edge of town. I was moved by the devotion of the people who came for every one of the nine Simbang Gabi Masses. Through their quiet devotion, their gracious hospitality, and their cheerfulness they showed me what it is to “wait in joyful hope for the coming of our Savior, Jesus Christ.”

Like most of the Mountain Province towns, only one priest serves the needs of thousands of the faithful, who are spread out in far-flung villages all over the mountain municipalities. Fr. Armand was happy to have me assist him, if only for ten days, so that he could be free to visit some of the outlying barrios in Bauko and attend to their sacramental needs. As it was, that left me with plenty of sacramental work to do in the center of town. In the short time I was there, I presided at a funeral Mass, concelebrated a wedding Mass, and presided at the baptism of twelve children! And that’s considered a “light week” in a Mountain Province church! I have new-found respect for the hard-working clergy of the Mountain Province vicariate and other similar regions the world over. I was also heartened to have met no fewer than eight seminarians from Bauko who all came back (during their Christmas vacation) to their home parish to be of assistance through the Christmas season. Vocations are alive and flourishing in Bauko – God knows, the Lord’s vineyard needs more good workers! Great to know that help is on the way!

BAUKO CATHOLIC HIGH SCHOOL – When I wasn’t “hatching, matching, and dispatching” (clerical slang for baptizing, marrying, and burying), I spent a lot of time at Bauko Catholic High School. The high school and its dormitory (housing over one hundred students who live too far away to easily commute to school) is just adjacent to our Lady of Lourdes Church. As many of you know, I am a high school teacher back in the States, so naturally, I was drawn to the high school students of this 400-student Catholic co-ed school, the only Catholic high school in the Bauko municipality. Each school day began at 7:30am with a student-led flag raising ceremony, including a prayer, the singing of the Philippine National Anthem, recitation of the Philippine pledge of allegiance, and announcements. I was duly impressed with the deep respect for God and country which the students showed as their peer leaders lined them up to conduct uniform inspection, take attendance, and call them to reverent attention. First class began at 7:45am, with the last class of the day ending at 4pm.

The teachers welcomed me into their overcrowded classrooms (some class sections numbered nearly fifty students), and in the course of three days, I managed to visit each class section, giving the students a two-fold presentation on taking pride in their Igorot heritage and living out their God-given vocation in life. Students sat at old wooden tables and benches (two to a table and bench). None of the classrooms sported any of the hi-tech accoutrements of modern American classrooms. No overhead projectors, no smart boards, no computers – just a slate chalkboard, a small bulletin board, and a crucifix. And while the classroom walls were rather stark and bare, the classroom windows looked out onto the beautiful mountain and valley vista.

In many ways, Bauko Catholic School is an “old-world” Catholic school. Students still politely stand and greet visitors as they walk into a classroom. They wait until the teacher or visitor has exited before they themselves leave the classroom, and only after standing and graciously expressing their thanks to the teacher or visitor. I found the Bauko Catholic High School students to be much more shy than their American counterparts, but just as energetic, curious, and spontaneous as any teenager the world over. They asked a lot questions about American food, American sports, American pop stars. They were curious about my own family, my Jesuit priesthood, and why an American-born priest priest would ever come all the way to the Philippines, to far-away Bauko, to spend Christmas in their town. I think I won them over when I answered, “After a week in Bauko, I can’t understand why anyone wouldn’t want to spend Christmas in your beautiful town.”

On their last day of school before Christmas vacation, the students invited me to their class sections’ Christmas parties. The students brought lots of home-cooked fiesta food to share after a morning of games, dancing, and singing. They were a playful bunch, and I was just as delighted as they were to join in their celebrations.

CHRISTMAS EVE – Our Lady of Lourdes Church was jam packed for the 10pm Christmas Eve Mass. High school boys and girls, dressed in Igorot costumes, led the procession up the aisle, playing native instruments and dancing their native dances. Members of the parish community re-enacted Luke’s account of the birth of Christ, and I preached about how we are all called, like shepherds in Bethlehem, to let our lives proclaim the joy and hope of Christmas. At the end of Mass, one of the catechetical leaders stood up (on behalf of the parish community) to thank me for my visit to and my ministry in Bauko, and proceeded to present me with hand-woven Igorot garments and head band. I proudly donned these after mass and joined the townspeople as they danced and sang in the church plaza until two in the morning!

It was the end of the most memorable ten days of parish ministry I have ever experienced. Christmas 2007 was for me a simple Christmas, unhurried and unhassled by the hustle and bustle of holiday madness of Christmas in the city. And maybe for the first time, as we sang “Silent Night” after communion that Christmas Eve, I felt that all really was calm, all really was bright. Certainly, I missed being with friends, family, and loved ones – that would come in only a day’s time when I would return to Manila and be reunited with my dear family (see my next blog post) – but for one Christmas, in a little mountain town called Bauko, I reveled in what felt like heavenly peace.

Next blog post: Christmas Family Reunion!

A Mountaintop Experience

2008-01-03T00:58:00.000-08:00

You know, the more I travel in the Philippines, the more astounding natural beauty I see.

We tertians traveled very far this time, through some very rough, even dangerous roadways to reach what is known as the Mountain Province in north central Luzon. But, the long bus and truck rides (about 12 hours total) were well worth it, for it brought us to the heart of the Cordillera Mountain Range, similar in beauty and grandeur to the American Allegheny Mountains -- without the snow, of course!

Our first stop was Baguio City. Known as the “Summer Capital of the Philippines,” Filipinos by the thousands flock to this town to enjoy family vacations in the cool temperatures and dry air of the mountains. The Filipino Jesuits have a beautiful house called Mirador. It sits at the top of a hill in Baguio, which was once the site of a Jesuit observatory early in the last century. The observatory has since been relocated to Manila, but Mirador remained as a rest house for Jesuits who needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. We stayed for a few days, relaxing in the before moving on to begin our Christmas ministries. We enjoyed beautiful public gardens in Baguio and visited Camp John Hay, which was built by the American armed forces in the 1940s as a vacation getaway for military officers and their families.

After a few days in Baguio City, we pushed on into the heart of the Cordillera Mountains. The roadways (many of them yet unpaved) snaked up the steep hillsides, offering dramatic views of vegetable and rice terraces, some of them centuries old, cut like giant green staircases into the mountainsides and river valleys. Landslides are not uncommon in these mountain passes, and while we saw evidence of recent landslides here and there, we were fortunate to be making our visit in the early part of the dry season, when the chance of landslides is significantly less. Our five-hour journey ended in Bontoc, a town in the Chico River valley where native Igorot tribes were evangelized a century ago by Anglicans and later Belgian Catholic missionaries. Elevation in Bontoc is between 6,000 and 7,000 feet above sea level. Consequently, temperatures in Bontoc are what Filipinos call “cold,” but a hearty Clevelander like me calls these temperatures “mild.” Occasional morning fog burned off by noon, giving us sunny, blue skies by day and starlit skies by night.

We arrived just in time for the start of a three-day fiesta, celebrating the centennial of the CICM (Congregation of the Sacred Heart) Missionaries’ arrival in the Mountain Province. Highlights of the fiesta include an elaborate parade and cultural presentations by young people, dressed in native Igorot and Ifugao costumes; a visit by the Papal Nuncio to the Philippines; presentations by the former and current bishops of the Mountain Province vicariate; native games; playing and singing of tribal music; festive native foods (some 30 pigs were slaughtered to feed the huge fiesta crowds); and a grand centennial Eucharistic liturgy in Bontoc’s Santa Rita Cathedral. In the course of those three days, my fellow tertians and I were overwhelmed not only by the pageantry and spectacle, but also by the deep sense of joy and pride of the Igorot and Ifugao peoples who have come to embrace the Christian faith whole-heartedly without losing their native identity.

In my next few blog posts, I'll share some of my ministerial experiences among the native Igorot people of the town of Bauko in the Mountain Province. Thanks, as always, for reading. May this be a prosperous New Year for you and your loved ones!

Pastoral Ministry in the Mountain Province

2007-12-06T06:16:00.000-08:00

It’s been a week since the conclusion of the Long Retreat, and now we tertians are on the road again, this time to the Mountain Province, a region in the north central part of Luzon known for its breath-taking natural beauty. As the name of the province suggests, the terrain is very mountainous (elevation is about 5,000 feet above sea level). Temperatures in the Mountain Province at this time of year are considerably cooler than they are in Manila or any of the southern regions of the Philippine archipelago. The Mountain Province is perhaps best known for the Banawe Rice Terraces, one of the natural wonders of the world. The rice terraces were constructed thousands of years ago by the Irugot and Ifugao tribes. Carved right into the mountainsides, the terraces are irrigated naturally with mountain springs and are still actively used to grow rice. I can’t wait to see these rice terraces with my own eyes. I hope to take photos and post them on this blog in the new year.

Our mission there for the next two and a half weeks is to assist in various parishes in the cities of Bontoc, Lagawe, Banawe, and Tabuk. Duties will include sacramental ministries (confessions, baptisms, eucharist, funerals as needed), catechesis for school children, and visiting the sick and homebound. A highlight of each of us tertians will be our engagement in a Filipino custom known as “Simbang Gabi,” a novena of pre-dawn Eucharistic liturgies leading up to the celebration of the Nativity of the Lord (“Noche Buena”). Beginning on December 16th, for nine consecutive mornings, the Filipino faithful come to their parish churches at 4am (!) to celebrate the liturgies of Simbang Gabi. Each Mass is followed by food and fellowship. The custom came to the Philippines back in the 17th century by way of Spain and Mexico. However, this novena has not been observed in Spain or Mexico for centuries, and is today only celebrated in the Philippines, and with great affection and fanfare. Can’t wait to experience it myself!

On Christmas Day, I head back to Manila to meet up with my parents, my sister (Maria), and my brother (Ron) and and his wife (Michelle), and their young son, all of whom are flying in for a Bigornia family reunion (my mom’s side of the family) here in Manila. It’ll be a Christmas to remember for us all!

My next blog posting probably won’t come until after the first of the year, so I take this opportunity to thank you again for your prayerful support in these last four months, and to wish you the quiet joys and peace of the season. Merry Christmas, and a prosperous New Year!

Maligayang Pasko!

Fr. John Delaney, SJ: One of Dad's Greatest Inspirations

2007-11-29T00:48:00.001-08:00

Long before I even considered a vocation to the Society of Jesus, Dad spoke of him, with great fondness and affection. "Fr. Delaney was one of the most holy, inspiring people I've ever met. I'll never forget him and all he did to strengthen my faith in God." To this day, the mention of Fr. John Delaney's name brings on heart-felt encomiums, from Jesuits and laypeople alike, who were deeply touched by this extraordinarily charismatic Jesuit.

In the backyard of the Sacred Heart Retreat House in Novaliches (where I spent the last 30 days on retreat)is a cemetery where lie the remains of dozens of deceased Jesuits. One morning, early in the retreat, I walked the short distance from the retreat house to the cemetery and began reading the names engraved on the wall of burial niches. While I noticed that most of the more recently deceased are Filipino Jesuits, many of the longer deceased Jesuits had German and Irish surnames. As I mentioned in my previous posting above, the Society of Jesus in the Philippines began in the early part of the last century with the efforts of Jesuit missionaries from the New York Province.

And when I came across the name "John Delaney, SJ," I thought to myself, this must be the Jesuit whom Dad talks about so fondly from his days as an undergraduate student at the University of the Philippines. I felt a lump in my throat as I reached out to touch the letters of his name, the years of his birth (1906), his entrance into the Society of Jesus, and his death (1956). I looked around the small cemetery and tried to imagine the literally thousands of mourners who came to the funeral. And I realized that Dad himself was here, back in January 1956, just finishing his sophomore year at the University of the Philippines, honored to serve as pall bearer, and to lay this great man to his eternal rest.

I don't yet know too much about Fr. Delaney's work here in the Philippines, except that Dad knew him as a campus minister at the University. According to Dad (and affirmed by a number of Jesuits whom I've consulted here), Fr. Delaney was a highly gifted preacher and retreat director, winning the admiration and loyalty of countless students and faculty at the University of the Philippines. To this day, dozens of Fr. Delaney's devotees meet here in Manila to remember and celebrate his memory. Theologically, he was a very forward-thinking Jesuit, as exemplified by his modern design of the UP chapel, which was built soon after his death and still stands in the university campus as a legacy to his years of devoted service and clear vision of faith. He was also apparently a prolific writer, specializing in spirituality.

I only wish I could have personally met Fr. John Delaney, SJ (he died young, at the age of 50), and I only hope that I might be half the Jesuit that he was to so many. It was a wonderful consolation during my retreat to know that Dad was once here in Novaliches, at the grave of his mentor and friend, where 50 years later, I found myself offering many a Hail Mary in his memory.

Fr. Delaney --may he continue to rest in Christ's peace!

The Long Retreat: Coming to Know, Love, and Serve Christ

2007-11-28T23:47:00.000-08:00

“So, how was it?” you ask, no doubt curious to know how the 30-day retreat went for me. No easy way to answer that question, certainly not in one word. Suffice it to say that the retreat was an intense spiritual experience that defies facile description. Not to put too fine a point on it, but how does one begin describe what it’s like when for 30 days, you share your heart with God and He shares His with you?

You may be thinking, “How did Ray (or any of the other retreatants) manage to keep silence for 30 days, with no conversation, no phones, no internet, no newspapers? Hard to believe, I know, but Saint Ignatius of Loyola, the man who devised this retreat, had a lot of wisdom when he insisted that to hear God speak to our hearts absolutely requires the absence of any and all competing voices. I got used to it quickly, and have even come to savor the silence. When there’s literally nothing else competing for our attention, it’s amazing to listen to how much God has to say to us!

We tertians were joined by 63 other retreatants: 7 Jesuit novices (first-year members of the Society of Jesus) and 56 religious and lay people. Each retreatant met individually with an assigned retreat director once each day for a 40-minute reflection session. We tertians were directed by our tertian instructor, Fr. Roger Champoux, SJ. Each day, we kept a routine of five prayer periods, each lasting 50-60 minutes, following the method layed out by Saint Ignatius in his Spiritual Exercises (see the side bar posting entitled “The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius Loyola). Daily mass was celebrated each evening at 6:15pm. Plenty of time throughout the day for personal reflection, rest and relaxation (we all took afternoon siestas very seriously), spiritual reading, exercise, and long walks.

The venue for the retreat was the Sacred Heart Novitiate and Retreat Center, located in Novaliches, in a northern section of Manila. The retreat house, which resembles in design a classic Spanish hacienda, was built by the Jesuits back to the 1930s as the novitiate for the Society of Jesus in the Philippines, which at that time was growing by leaps and bounds. While Jesuit vocations are still relatively high here in the Philippines (averaging 7-10 men entering each year), the numbers are not nearly what they once were, so only one wing of the house still operates as the novitiate. The rest is used as a retreat house and conference center. Plenty of lush vegetation around, plus a nice swimming pool in which I swam almost every day – what I liked to call my time of “aquatic meditation!” There are some sheep and goats that roam the property, and even a lone Filipino caribou (water buffalo). Three meals a day are served (featuring a lot of fish and plenty of fresh tropical fruit), which we all ate in silence – awkward at first, but we got used to it. CD recordings of sacred instrumental music played softly in the background to accompany the sound of silverware clinking against plates. Even dining was a prayerful experience!

So, what did I get out of it, besides catching up on a lot of rest? Well, at the risk of sounding terribly pious (and those of you who know me well know that I’m not terribly pious!), the Long Retreat has left me with the grace I asked for each and every day – that I might know Christ more intimately, love Him more deeply, and follow him more faithfully, wherever He may call me. Seems fundamental, I know. But that’s largely what Jesuit tertianship is all about: going back to the fundamentals that led us (and still lead us) to live our whole lives in the Society that bears His name. And going back to fundamentals, years after we took the first step, affords us the luxury of prayerfully clarifying and deepening our commitment to our vocation of serving God and His people.

Ad majorem Dei gloriam -- “To the greater honor and glory of God”

The Long Retreat

2007-10-27T00:07:00.001-07:00

TERTIANSHIP CLASS 2007-2008 (front row) Chris Soh (Singapore) Carlo Manunza (Italy) Kifle Wansamo (Ethiopia), Julian Das (India), Lee Sang-Won (Korea), Ray Guiao (USA) (back row) Bill McGarry (assistant tertian instructor, USA), Emanuel Lim (Singapore), Benny de Guzman (Philippines), Rene Oliveros (Philippines), Kolbe Sang-Hwan (Korea), Roger Champoux (tertian instructor, French Canada)

Dear Readers,

Beginning tomorrow, October 28th, my fellow tertians and I will be entering into what is known as the Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius Loyola. It takes the form of a 30-day individually directed retreat, commonly known as the Long Retreat. It is considered the "centerpiece" of all Jesuit tertianship programs.

Jesuits undergo the Long Retreat twice in their Jesuit lives. The first time is as a novice, or "beginner Jesuit." I made my first Long Retreat when I was twenty-two years old, only four months after entering the Jesuit novitiate. The second time a Jesuit experiences the Long Retreat is many years later, when he makes his tertianship. Needless to say, the Jesuit tertian is far better prepared, ready, and even eager to enter into as significant an experience as the Long Retreat than he was a a Jesuit novice. That's exactly how I feel. While the prospect of keeping silent and out of touch with the outside world may seem daunting to some, such time-out-of- time affords those who experience the Long Retreat the rare privilege of entering into a period of intensely personal prayer with God, unhindered by the many obligations, occupations, and distractions of life in the real world. We Jesuits are hardly monks -- anyone who knows me can tell you that! But, twice in our Jesuit lives, we members of the Society of Jesus take 30 days to listen intently to the movements of God in our hearts and minds.

Needless to say, I will not be updating this blog for the next 30 days of retreat. We will be finishing retreat at the end of November, at which time you can expect my next blog entry. Until then, I ask for your prayerful support for me and my fellow tertians (pictured above), that we may all persevere, focus, and savor our time-out-of-time with God in these weeks of retreat. Be assured of my own prayers for you and your many intentions. Ad majorem Dei gloriam!

The Ingenieros -- My Second Host Family in Navotas

2007-10-26T23:47:00.000-07:00

After four days with our first host families, it was arranged that each of us tertians would move on to be hosted by another family. My second host family was the Ingenieros. Mariquit, the wife and mother, is a woman of gentle and natural beauty. Her slim and fit figure belies the fact that she has born no fewer than nine children. She and her eldest daughter, Ana, were there to walk me through the busy and noisy streets to another barangay (“neighborhood”) in Navotas where their family lives.

The Ingeniero family live in a much simpler home than my first family’s home. The lower half of the house is hollow brick, while the upper half is a patchwork of wood and metal scraps. A battered wooden window cover swings limp from a wire hinge. The front door, which never seemed to be closed throughout my 5-day stay with them, shows signs of termite infestation. The front room (about 9’ X 6”) is crowded by a small kitchen table and two chairs, a baby play pen, a weathered plastic patio loveseat, and an old chest of drawers with overstuffed drawers that serves as a common storage for all of the children’s clothing. This cramped front room serves as dining room, family room, and play area for the children – not much space for much else! Scattered on the walls and on various shelves were framed but faded photos of past Jesuit tertian guests, posing with Mariquit and some of the children, that the Ingeniero family has hosted. “We have had many Jesuit visitors, Father. We are glad to have Jesuit guests,” Lydio proudly professed to me on my arrival. Off the front room is a small kitchen, fitted with a propane stove and sink – no refrigerator, no oven. A single cabinet served as a pantry, filled mostly with assorted canned goods. Pots and pans and cooking utensils lie scattered on the shelf below the stove. Off the kitchen is the water closet – literally a closet with no light or adequate ventilation. Old scraps of linoleum and flattened cardboard cartons served as the floor. Only a toilet and water barrel for bathing. Because I was unable to see for lack of light, I chose take my daily baths just outside the front door where another water barrel stands. The children laughed at me when I first washed up just outside the entryway of the house, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out how they manage to bathe themselves in the dark, stuffy water closet off the kitchen!

Mariquit and her husband Lydio married in their late teens and promptly started having children: Ana (22), Andrea (20), Margiely (19), Johnmar (17), Joemar (15), Joseph (12), Angela (7), Hannalee (5), and Micaela (8 months). When I expressed how impressed I was at the size of their family, Lydio smiled broadly as Mariquit announced to me, “Father, I want three more – for an even dozen!” How they would manage three more mouths to feed, I haven’t a clue, but from Mariquit’s confident tone, that is the plan!

Mariquit and Lydio, along with most of the children, sleep on the floor of a tiny bedroom, no more than 7’ x 7’, just off the front room. The three boys sleep on the floor of the front room whose floor, like the water closet, is covered with a patchwork of old linoleum scraps. Mariquit and Lydio insisted that I sleep on the only bed, which is situated against the far wall, under a mosquito net. Though the bed lacked a mattress and was tilted, making getting to sleep a real effort, I was grateful and humbled by their hospitality. “We hope it’s all right for you, Father,” Mariquit and Lydio kept saying. “It is the best we have, and we want you to have it while you are here with us.”
While a single fan struggled against the closeness of the crowded bedroom through the hot, humid nights, I was humbled by their graciousness.

The days of the Ingeniero family are filled with many comings and goings. Lydio leaves for the factory at the crack of dawn. While the two older boys have dropped out of school, they leave early, too, to do odd jobs around Navotas, like driving tricycles (pedaled taxis for 1-2 passengers) to help support the family. Most of the children attend the afternoon session of their grade school, which begins at 1pm and finishes at 7:30pm. (Morning sessions at most Filipino schools begin around 5am and finish at noon. Multiple shifts at grade schools and some high schools are common, due to the high volume of students attending.) Mariquit and the older daughters tend to the care of the younger children, washing clothes (by hand, of course), ironing the children’s school uniforms, cooking and feeding the young ones, and marketing, and upkeep of the household. I marveled at the care they showed to one another in their day-to-day lives. As with any family, small skirmishes would erupt from time to time, but nothing long-lasting. Too much to be done to carry on conflicts for too long.

The days were unusually hot, and electricity went off in the Ingeniero household beginning around 9am and wouldn’t be restored until around 7pm. I found out later that the electricity current flowing to the Ingeniero household was “pirated,” like that flowing to many other Navotas households. Thus, the daily “brownouts.” On one particular morning, as I was eating breakfast, the electricity went out, knocking out the only fan in the house. When Mariquit saw the sweat beading on my forehead through sips of coffee, she said something whispered something to Angela, her third youngest daughter, who ran to fetch an old woven hand fan and promptly began to pump it in my direction. When I protested that it wasn’t necessary for Angela to fan me, Mariquit replied, “But, Father, look! She likes fanning you.” And there was Angela, a toothless grin covering her face, giggling as she double-fisted her fanning. On still another hot afternoon, Mariquit gathered her third oldest daughter, Margiely, and her youngest daughter, Micaela. “Come,” she said. Expecting to follow them to the market, we all jumped into a jeepney when Mariquit announced, “Father, we’re taking you to the mall, where you can get cool.” The mall was about 15 minutes away from Navotas, and was meager by American retail standards. But there we were, in the coolness of air conditioning, looking into the shop windows and getting reprieve from the unforgiving heat and humidity of the tropics. After I bought them ice cream cones, we found a penny arcade that featured karaoke stalls. Filipinos, rich and poor, LOVE karaoke! Margieley chose to sing a lovesong from a Disney movie, while I took the mic and blasted away with Frank Sinatra’s “New York, New York.” Great fun! I won’t soon forget that afternoon, an afternoon that cooled my body temp but warmed my heart.

I often wonder if indeed Mariquit and Lydio will indeed bring three more Ingenieros into the world. Perhaps when they host yet another Jesuit tertian in future years, there might just be another baby in the playpen. But I’ve no doubt that the next Jesuit tertian will come to see that however short the Ingenieros might be on creature comforts, there home holds an abundance of love. And I’m honored to be the richer for it!

The Mendiolas: My First Host Family in Navotas

2007-10-17T01:40:00.000-07:00

Our immersion experience in Navotas was intended to be as much about poverty as it was to be about life in a simple Filipino family. I myself was raised, as many of you know, in a Filipino household, albeit in the United States. But the values, culture, and faith in which I was raised from childhood were those of my Filipino parents who emigrated to the U.S.A. in 1962. To this extent, I did not anticipate experiencing anything particularly new or different in living with Filipino host families. Despite the abject poverty in which my two host families lived, I found myself experiencing much the same care, warmth, and affection with which I was raised – hallmarks, I daresay, of Filipino family life, whether in the slums of Navotas or in the privileged suburbs of Cleveland.

My first host family was the Mendiola family. France, the wife and mother, received me at the PPF welcome session for us Jesuit tertians. She led me through the streets of Navotas, wading sometimes through knee-high water (thanks to three days of typhoon rains) to her family’s humble home in a barangay (subdivision) of Navotas called Bagong Silang. France, a stocky woman with a big voice and a hearty laugh, explained to me that their neighborhood used to be much worse, infested with crime, drugs, prostitution, and disease. In 1988, the Pag-Aalay ng Puso Foundation made inroads into improving the quality of life in this subdivision, including the first toilets to be installed in private homes in all of Navotas. Over the past 15 years, life did improve significantly for the residents of Bagong Silang, true to its name, which translates literally as “new birth.” Having said that, the dwellings in Bagong Silang are tightly packed together, the alleyways only 3-4 feet across. Most of the houses are concrete hollow block construction, finished with scrap pieces of metal and wood. Hanging laundry everywhere obscures the view. Food vendors squawk out prices. Foot traffic outside the Mendiola house seemed constant, with neighbors frequently peeking their heads into the window or door to chat with France or her husband, Joel (~45 years old, shipyard worker), or one of the four children: JoFrance (~20 years old, engineering student), Karen (~20 years old, nursing student), Giselle (~18 years old, nursing stuent), and Kristan (14 years old, high school student). France and her family welcomed me into their low-ceilinged three-story house, the first floor of which measures about 18’ X 18’ and serves as kitchen, dining room (table sits 3 at max, with a picture of the Last Supper hanging just above), and sitting room,, appointed with old plastic patio chairs. Two sewing machines against the walls betray France’s livelihood as a seamstress. Off the kitchen iss a closet, no more than 7’ X 7’ with only a 5’ head clearance, nicely tiled and fitted with seat-less toilet and a large plastic water barrel. This is the only bathroom in the household, and serves the Mendiolas not only for the family's bathing and toileting, but also for doing the family laundry. The second floor, accessed by a narrow and rather steep ladder/staircase is the bedroom space for the four children. The two boys (JoFrance and Kristan) sleep on a thin mattress on one side of the room, while the two girls (Karen and Giselle) sleep on a separate thin mattress on the other side. My guest cot (i.e., another thin mattress) was located under the staircase going up to the third floor, which was where the parents (France and Joel) slept. Their full size mattress takes up most of the floor space on the third level, save for the airy “balcony” that looked out onto a profusion of neighboring rooftops (see top photo in the previous blog installment).

While France is given to loud outbursts of laughter and spirited conversation, Joel is a gentle soul with a ready smile and a quiet demeanor. Joel used to work in construction, but after a bad accident at one site, he shifted his work to the shipyards on Manila Bay, not far from Navotas. There, he works from 7am to 5pm, mainly repairing tankers and other vessels docked at the busy port. His skill at construction shows in the simple but careful ways he has finished the family’s house interior. France, as mentioned earlier, works as a seamstress from 8am to noon each day, and ironically enough, her salary equals that of her husband’s whose workday is more than twice as long as hers! France creates and repairs uniforms for a school in England through a Protestant foundation that has had a presence in Navotas for some ten years. While France works for this foundation, she felt it important to assure me that she will ever be a life-long Catholic!

Both she and Joel, married for over 20 years, strongly feel that the only thing they can give their children is the means to good education. “We have nothing else, Father,” France explained to me one night in broken English. “Nothing else. Everything we earn goes to our children for their educations. We are very proud of them.” Indeed, they work very hard to support their children, and in turn, their children work very hard at their schooling. The oldest, JoFrance, is an engineering student at University of the East, and is away from the house from 7am until 8pm. His younger sisters leave the house around 10am for their classes in nursing school outside Navotas, returning between 8pm and 10pm, depending on their floor rotation schedules. France and Joel have taught their children to be self-sufficient, laundering and pressing their own uniforms, cooking their own meals (which are taken at irregular times due to their irregular schedules), and cleaning up after themselves in the kitchen. As they would come and go each day, I got a chance to chat with each of these young people. Jo-France wanted to know what it was like being from “the city of LeBron James.” Karen and Giselle giggled a lot when I asked them about boyfriends and crushes. But of all the kids, I got to know the youngest, Kristan, the best. Slightly gawky and tall for his age, Kristan has his mother’s smile and his father’s soft-spoken nature. We had several lengthy one-on-one conversations about his interests in history (he knows a lot about the Ottoman Empire), literature (he has read a lot of American transcendentalist lit), religion (he knows a lot about scripture and the lives of the saints). Kristan has dreams of being an architect, and somehow I don’t doubt that he’ll realize that dream. When I asked him if he planned on ever leaving Navotas, he looked off into the distance, across the rooftops from the third floor balcony where we chatted. “Yes, maybe. I don’t know,” he answered.

France was always apologizing for her family’s busy-ness during my four-day stay with them: “We hope you understand, Father. We cannot entertain you all the time. We are busy with work and school. We hope you understand.” And with each plea for my understanding, I reassured her of my admiration for a family whose busy lives held out hope for bright futures. “We are one of the lucky families, Father,” France would sigh. And to prove it, France once took me to the nearby barangay where hundreds of people lived on the polluted shores of Manila Bay. Here, in what once was not long ago a dump site for Navotas and what still serves as a graveyard for the dead, dozens of families live in lean-to’s and in flimsy shacks, many of them perched some 20 feet above the bay on bamboo stilts to avoid flooding at high tide. The poorest of the poor of Navotas live here, amidst garbage and sewage heaved upon the bay shore. It is here, on the dirty sand littered with abandoned fishing nets and a constant haze of flies that Navotas fisherman launch and land their boats Standing on the putrid seashore, looking out at all this, France says again, “See, Father? We’re one of the lucky families.” Sa awa ng Dyos, as the Filipino would say, or commonly translated into English, “There but for the grace of God go I.”

My last five days in Navotas was with the Ingeniero family. More about them in my next installment. Thanks for reading!

Immersion into Poverty

2007-10-12T23:22:00.000-07:00

WHY WE DID IT
Part of this Jesuit tertianship program is to enter into the world of the poor -- to get to know the poor by living among the poor. Christ himself did as much in his short time on earth. His chosen friends and apostles came from among the poor of his time and his community, and it was these that in his Beatitudes he called "blessed."

Our purpose in visiting the Navotas community was to give us an immersion experience into the life of simple Filipino families and to expose us to the economically impoverished situations in which they live. To read about the poor is one thing, but to actually live with the poor and to spend a significant amount of time with the poor -- to be immersed in their world – is to come to know the poor better than any reading about the poor could ever offer. No doubt, I faced many challenges in this experience, discomforts and privations not least among them. But, I found that living with the poor is to strip life down to its barest essentials and to see what really matters in life. No, the poor of Navotas are not saints, but they did show me in more ways than I can count, what matter most in life.

PAG-AALAY NG PUSO FOUNDATION
The homestays in Navotas were coordinated by members of the Pag-aalay ng Puso (“Gift of the Heart”) Foundation, an NGO begun in 1988 whose mission it is to help build humane conditions in poorest sectors of Navotas. The Pag-aalay ng Puso Foundation (PPF) has long coordinated immersion homestays in Navotas for the Jesuit Tertianship Program, as well as for Jesuit scholastics and lay visitors from Korea and Japan. In addition to immersion programs, PPF offers programs in the areas of values education, tuition assistance, health promotion & education, economic sustenance, and a tribal outreach program to members of tribes in the Sierra Madres and in the Visayas.

NAVOTAS & NAVOTANS – A BRIEF DESCRIPTION
Navotas is one of the most socio-economically depressed areas in metropolitan Manila. Over 250,000 people live in this region, situated in the northwest quadrant of Manila, right on Manila Bay. Back in the 1970s, hundreds of families from Samar and Leyte and the Bicols fled the wars of insurgency. They found an abandoned garbage site lying between Manila Bay and a cemetery, and here they settled as squatters. As you might imagine, crime, drunkenness, and drug addiction ran rampant, while hygiene and treatment for malnutrition was non-existent. With the help of PPF, things in Navotas are beginning to improve, but very, very slowly.

Most streets are paved, yet gaping holes, rotting garbage, and almost constant human traffic make getting around very difficult in this crowded town. The stench of open sewers, plus the exhaust from motorcycles, jeepneys, and cars make the air heavy and unpleasant to breathe. Typhoon rains that fell for three days prior to our arrival flooded the streets of Navotas, such that we had to wade through 2.5 feet of water to get to our first host families. It takes days for such flood waters to recede. Hundreds of street vendors sell everything from live chickens and fresh-caught fish to cooked meats, rice, and noodles. The volume of noise from these vendors, the constant flow of traffic, plus the shouting and laughter of hundreds of children playing in the streets and the constant chatter of passers-by add up to an urban din not unlike the noise of major metropolitan cities back in the U.S.

Peoples’ homes vary widely in construction and style – some are cinderblock constructions, while most are combinations of cement block and steel, patched together with scraps of rusted steel and discarded pieces of plastic and cardboard. For those who live literally on Manila Bay, houses are constructed on long bamboo stilts, and a system of rickety bamboo bridges and walkways guide residents to their houses, which are perched some 20-30 feet above the water. These are the poorest of the poor of Navotas, who live no better than their counterparts who have found sanctuary in abandoned niches in the Navotas cemetery. Elsewhere in Navotas, dwellings are packed tightly together, with alleyways between houses no more than 4 feet wide. Large families (5-10 children) are very common in Navotas, with all family members sleeping on the floor of a space no larger than 10’ X 10’. Needless to say, personal privacy is never an option in Navotas!
Running water is rare in the town, so water is collected in large plastic drums outside the homes, to be used for the families’ washing, cooking, and laundering. Filtered water for drinking is purchased daily from water vendors. Roaches, mice, and rats are commons sights in the daily home lives of Navotans.

As poor as the people of Navotas may be, I was struck by the genuine care that each has for the other in this community. While ragged children and elderly people can often be seen pawing at car windows in stopped traffic throughout metro Manila, beggars and street children are conspicuously absent in Navotas. Navotans literally feed each other, sharing what little food they can afford to buy and prepare. Whether it’s their own children or a perfect stranger, all are fed. No one begs.

I was also struck by the simple faith of Navotans. Once, while celebrating mass with our host families, the simple requests of the Lord’s Prayer rang true to me in light of their uncomplicated lives: “Holy God, make your Kingdom come, let your will be done. Feed us, forgive us, protect us. Amen.” I was also struck by the lack of complaining I heard among Navotans. Plenty of gossip (as any community is wont to have!), but no grumbling, no longing to get up and out of Navotas. It’s as if Navotans are resigned to their circumstances, seeing their poverty not as their “plight,” but more as their “situation.”

As a result, I witnessed Navotans living in the present, uninhibited by worries about the future, but living in the day, for the day. Believe me, I am not trying to romanticize poverty. In truth, I find myself more than a bit conflicted, even frustrated, by some of the very things that moved me in my time in Navotas. More on this in my next installment!

One Month in the Philippines

2007-09-27T01:47:00.000-07:00

It's been too long since I updated -- my apologies to those of you who have been checking in regularly! I'm a bit limited right now in my ability to incorporate my own photos on this blog, but that no reason for me not to write up an update. Here goes . . .

Hard to believe that I've been in the Philippines for one month already. I arrived here exactly one month ago today. Six more months will fly by, I have a feeling! The rainy season has been just that -- rainy! It rains every day and every night -- downpours usually in the afternoon and late at night. The afternoon precip does a lot to cool the temps after the tropical sun heats things up in the mornings. Tropical vegetation seems to thrive on neglect here! Lots of sun, lots of rain -- what more does a tropical plant need?

The tertianship program continues to go very well. We've spent the last two weeks presenting our personal life histories. Each of us has given two presentations -- the first on our life from birth to the beginnings of our Jesuit vocation, and the second on our life in the Society of Jesus. It's been a profound experience to prayerfully reflect upon my life and to hear the reflections of my fellow tertians on their own life experiences. Our experiences of life before and since we entered the Jesuits are as varied as the countries we come from. Many have done doctoral work in fields such as communications, pastoral ministry, economics, and Islamic studies. Many of us shared experiences of living with and serving the poor and marginalized of our respective countries. One has done extensive work with refugees in East Africa. Another has done worked with the Jesuits in China, which is largely an "underground" operation in that country. Still another has worked with tribal peoples in southern India. Needless to say, we have a lot to share with each other about how God has led us in our lives as Jesuits, and to do so in a prayeful way is indeed a gift.

Fortunately, I'm able to keep in close contact with my cousins Aurora and Tina and their families, as well as my Uncle Bob and Aunt Tonette, as they all live close by in Quezon City. Au (Aurora's knickname) has been particularly gracious in taking me out to sample Philippine cuisine around town. For those of you who know what "balut" is, don't you worry. I'm keeping clear of that! Inculturation does have its limits, even for this hardy Jesuit!

This coming week, we tertians enter into an immersion experience with poor families in the town of Navotas, just north of Manila. We will be placed with two separate families, living for four days with each family in their home, in an effort to get to know the joys and struggles of Filipino families in this economically depressed community. While we don't know completely what to expect, we enter into this experience with opennenss. I'll fill you in on my own experiences in Navotas in my next update.

Thanks, as always, for your continued thoughts and prayers. Be assured of mine for you!

Moving in to the Loyola House of Studies

2007-09-11T01:24:00.000-07:00

After ten wonderful days with my relatives, it was time to move into the Jesuit community in which I will be starting my Jesuit tertianship program (see explanation of Jesuit tertianship on the right). My Uncle Bob and Aunt Tonette, along with two of my cousins and their children, delivered me to the Loyola House of Studies (LHS), a large Jesuit Community at the Ateneo de Manila University campus. Those who live at LHS are largely young Jesuits who are doing studies at various levels -- finishing undergraduate work, studying philosophy, or studying theology. There are between 30 and 40 young Jesuits in studies here at LHS. Other older Jesuits who live at LHS include Jesuits who serve on the philosophy and theology faculty at the adjoining Loyola School of Theology, as well as the neighboring San Jose Seminary (diocesan). Needless to say, this is one very vibrant place, energized by young Jesuits engaged in the long process of study and formation.

As I explain on the right, tertianship is the final phase of Jesuit formation. We tertians are situated on the 5th floor (top floor) of the mid-century style building. Open-air corridors look out onto courtyards filled with gorgeous tropical vegetation of palms, birds of paradise, and calachuchi trees. We each have our own rooms which feature have two sets of large louvre blinds on opposing walls to allow for much needed cross breeze in the rooms. Floor-to-ceiling screens keep out the pesky mosquitoes. There is no airconditioning in the bedrooms, but we each have a fan to keep the air moving. Each room is also outfitted with a sink and medicine cabinet, small closet, desk, and bookshelf. The bed is a 4" thick foam rubber pad on a raised wooden pallette -- not fancy, but surprisingly comfortable! Common bathroom and showers are right down the hall. Already carving out a rut in the hallway as I make my way to the showers frequently through the day!

It's been unusually hot for this time of year (rainy season), so temps have gotten up well into the 90s. The only thing that cools things off, though, are the heavy rains, which fall almost daily / nightly. I'm told that temps will continue to fall through the months of November and December, and will stay relatively low (low 80's) through February.

I'll take pictures of my digs soon and post them on this blog. It's good to be in my new Jesuit home away from home, and to start the tertianship program. More on that in the next blog . . .

Villa Escudero: A Piece of Filipino Heaven

2007-09-03T18:14:00.000-07:00

I can honestly say that Villa Escudero is one of the most beautiful places I've ever visited. Situated in the stately coconut groves of the province of Laguna in southern Luzon, Villa Escudero is a resort that not only revives the body and spirit, but also preserves and prospers the richness of Filipino culture.

The Escudero family developed their extensive estate as a refuge for tourists and Balikbayans (i.e., Filipinos returning to visit their homeland) alike. The grounds are meticulously landscaped to feature the lush, exotic plantlife of the Philippine countryside. Uniformed landscape artists and gardeners are out early every morning maintaining the gardens around the guest cottages, chapel, and conference center. The architecture features the exquisite work of Filipino craftsmen, utilizing native materials, such as bamboo, ebony and nara, and various grass weaving techniques to decorate interior walls and ceilings.

Room amenities in our cottage included full bath, a loft sleeping area, and a lovely front porch, close to the swimming pool. No airconditioning, but ample screened windows and fans kept tropical breezes moving into and out of our room. No TV, which allowed us to fully engage the beauty all around us.

A long driveway through a thick coconut grove brings guests to the Escudero hacienda. Hospitality staff, donning bright native garb uniforms, are there to greet guests with cups of native fruit juices. After checking in, a passenger tram, pulled by a water buffalo, brings guests from the front desk area to their cottages. A guitarist and singer sit in the back of each flower-bedecked tram to serendate guests with Filipino folk songs. A museum, curated by the Escudero family, features an extensive and eclectic collection of objects on Philippine history and culture. Each Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, a special dance and music show is presented. The performance, in travelogue form, traces the rich history of the Philippines through various dances and songs. The show is mounted in the beautiful open-air dining room, adjacent to the river which is fed by a volcanic spring. The large volcano Mount Banahaw presides over the scenic river landscape.

Needless to say, our two days and one night were a feast for the senses. Our stay included not only the show and overnight accommodations, but also a delicious supper of roast fish, pork, and native vegetables, and traditional Filipino breakfast, all wonderfully prepared and presented.

I left Villa Escudero (reluctlantly), feeling revived, inspired, and proud of my Filipino heritage I am only now coming to learn and appreciate.

Thanks for reading all of this. Just a few more days with my good relatives, then I move to the Ateneo de Manila to start my Jesuit tertianship program. More on that in future posts!

History & Scenery

2007-08-31T17:45:00.000-07:00

Got back late last evening from an overnight trip to the northwest coast of the island of Luzon. My Uncle Bob and Aunt Tonette and I traveled to the city of Vigan, an 16th century Spanish colonial town, famous for its well-preserved buildings. I'd compare it to Williamsburg in the U.S. It was a long drive up to Vigan from Manila -- about 6 - 7 hours -- but well worth it! We traveled through miles and miles of rice plantations, with gorgeous views of the central and northern mountain ranges and the China Sea off to the west. We must have passed through about a dozen small towns in the large province of Ilocos, from which my aunt comes. Blue skies, puffy white clouds, and temps in teh 80s made for perfect traveling weather.

We stayed overnight in the Plaza Hotel in Vigan, which itself is beautifully restored to its 18th century glory. We took a horse and buggy ride (called a "calesa") through the town, and stopped in to see the cathedral church, the archbishop's palace, and many other historical sites. Lots of little shops selling lovely handicrafts, especially wood carvings, pottery and weaving. Flilipinos, I am quickly learning, are tremendous artisans, and very proud of their work, rightfully so.

Back for a day of rest today, then off tomorrow (Sunday) for an overnight trip to the southern part of Luzon where my mother is from. More to see and do, and I'm soaking it all in!

I've got lots of photos, but Blogspot is being a little stubborn in not letting me post them. Stand by, and you'll see them soon, I hope!

Thanks for the comments! Keep 'em coming! I continue to remember you in my thoughts and prayers!

A Long Journey and a Warm Welcome

2007-08-29T08:17:00.000-07:00

After a long and relatively smooth 16-hour flight, I'm finally here in Manila, Philippines. It was hard for me to believe that I actually arrived, so long have I been planning for and looking forward to this trip. It was after 10pm when I arrived, so I didn't get to see much of Manila as my Uncle Bob and Aunt Tonette drove me to their home for my week-long stay with them. They have a nice home in Quezon City, which is just outside of Manila. They and my cousins and second cousins have been treating me ROYALLY thus far.

I used this first day to lie low and get over jetlag. Hard for the system to adjust when there is exactly 12 hours difference between Cleveland and Manila. But, my mid-day sleepyness will pass, I'm sure. I've been playing a lot with my second cousins, Franciso (aka, "Kiko") and Francesca (aka, "Chesca"). They're 8 and 5 years old respectively, full of questions and loaded with tons of energy. It's been good to re-connect with their mom (my cousin Tina) and her husbandR oque. as well as my other cousin Aurora and her husband Carlos and their 4-year old twin sons Andre and Joquin, and their 8-month old daughter Maria.
Got that all straight? It's going to take me a while to keep straight which child belongs to which cousin of mine, but I'll manage.

I'm off to Vigan tomorrow with my aunt and uncle for an overnight siite-seeing tour. I'll be sure to include photos of the historical sites I see in my next update of this blog. Thanks for checking in! Stay well, and thanks for the thoughts and prayers!

Welcome to Fr. Guiao's blog!

2007-08-14T19:03:00.000-07:00

Glad you're checking in! This is a new venture for me, but I'm excited to share my experiences in the Philippines as I pursue my Jesuit tertianship.

I'll try to update this blog weekly, filling you in on my adventures, travels, insights, and experiences along the way.

Thanks for keeping me in your prayers. Count on mine for you!

Check back often!