NEW YEAR

Last year I joined some confreres for the New Year countdown at MOA. Boy! It was already crowded when we arrived. Every bit of space at the grounds and at the sea wall was occupied. Families had spread mats on the ground.

Since we arrived early, we thought it best to line up for the Ferris wheel ride. SM claims that it is the tallest such ride in the Philippines. It was air-conditioned, too. While we were at the summit of the Ferris wheel, there was an explosion of fireworks in the night sky. We thought it was the beginning of the fireworks display. But we looked at our watches. It was 11pm. Nah. It was probably a sort of test to make sure that all the equipment was all ready for the grand show.

We continued to enjoy the ride. It was smooth and the nightscape was delightful to the eyes. Maybe that was why it seemed that the ride ended too soon.

It was a half an hour before the clock struck 12. It was time to look for a place for the grand fireworks display. We found it near a zip line. Watching people zoom one after the other kept us entertained. Then the zip line stopped. The lights went off one by one. It was time.

The night sky exploded with fireworks of different colors and designs. Against the noise of the explosion you could hear the ooohhs and the aaahhs of thousands of spectators. And when it was over, people gave a “standing ovation” to this once-a-year tradition of welcoming the New Year.

We should have more of this organized by local governments and businesses. In this way more and more people would be content to just watch instead of them having to set off fire crackers and fireworks themselves. The result would be fewer casualties. It is heart-rending to see victims on TV, especially children, crying in pain because of fire crackers that exploded too soon in their hands.

We are told that this custom of welcoming the New Year comes from the Chinese. They use firecrackers and fireworks to drive away evil spirits, leaving only good luck for the New Year.
I would rather look at it this way.

It is a way of expressing our joy at being given another chance to begin again. It is like closing a chapter of our life in order to begin another one. And we begin this new chapter with hope that great things await us. And we do have reason to hope because our mistakes and successes of the past year have made us wiser and therefore, better equipped to face the new challenges that may come our way. We also begin a new journey of 365 days with enthusiasm because of the goals that we have set for ourselves. These goals energize us.

This is why it is a good idea that at the beginning of the New Year we pray for God’s blessings upon us. We want our efforts and our plans to bear fruit. We do not want to travel alone. We would like God to accompany us throughout the year. After all, is Jesus not called Emmanuel which means God is with us?

Moreover, we Filipinos have a special place in our hearts for the “Mahal na Birhen”. We look on her as mother. And January 1 is the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God.

For all these reasons going to Mass on January 1 makes sense. And also for these reasons, greeting you a blessed New Year makes sense, too.

NATIVITY SCENE AT ST. PETER’S SQUARE

It was around 6:30 in the evening of January 6, 2009. I was at St. Peter’s Square to see and admire first-hand the “presepio” or “presepe”. “Presepio” is literally “crib” in Italian. Its French equivalent is more familiar to us - “crèche”. It is translated as nativity scene or Christmas crib. It is the main focus of Christmas decorations in Italy.

St. Francis of Assisi is credited with creating the first “presepe” in history. In December 1223, according to the legend, he set up a Nativity scene in a straw-filled manger surrounded by live animals, in a natural cave near the small town of Greccio (Central Italy). That year the Christmas Eve Mass was celebrated there and word quickly spread that this “presepe” had miraculous powers. Although this was not the first “presepe” ever built, the prestige of St Francis’ name greatly helped to make this re-enactment of Christ’s birth very popular. (cf. Italian Cultural Institute in Washington)

In 2010 the “presepe” was given a Pinoy touch. According to Giuseppe Facchini, Bureau of Studies and Projects of the Vatican: “This year we want to join a cave structure with the stable. We have a wooden deck attached to the structure of the grotto.  Since the Philippines has given us figures which are very different from what we have, we decided to create a corner that is different from the others…. It displays a family of Filipino fishermen with a real canoe and baskets of fruit and fish.” (Rome Reports)

It rarely snows in Rome. It never did in the two years I was there. But still for someone who comes from the tropics, it can feel very cold in winter. When I went to St. Peter’s Square to see the “presepe”, I had to put on a bonnet, gloves, jacket and scarf.

It was already two weeks after Christmas. I was expecting few people to be there. But I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was still a good size crowd milling about. I made my way to the “presepe”. I took my time to take in the scene. The figures were life-size and they wore real clothes prepared by Franciscan nuns. The scene somehow managed to bring me to that very first Christmas night.

When my eyes were satisfied, I took out my camera to take pictures. But I found out that I couldn’t take good pictures because there were many heads in front of me. I had to wait for my turn to reach the metal railing that fenced in the nativity scene. Once there I took pictures from different angles and at different focal lengths. And as a finale, I asked an English-speaking tourist to take a picture of me with the nativity scene as the background.

Not many can experience what I just experienced. Yet that thought did nothing to lift my spirit. I missed the Christmas of my beloved Pinas. I missed the Simbang Gabi. I missed the puto bungbong, bibingka and tsa. I missed the Noche Buena. I missed the caroling. I missed visiting relatives and friends on Christmas day. I missed how we Filipinos can combine successfully what is sacred and what is “profane”, what is family and what is community in order to produce a Christmas that is a both a holy day and a holiday.

But now I am back. I returned four years ago. And I am glad to celebrate Christmas here.

A HAPPY Christmas to you all and a MERRY New Year.

SIMBANG GABI

As a child what I remember of Simbang Gabi were puto bungbong, bibingka, tsaa and salabat. Even today I would not consider my Christmas complete without having tasted puto bungbong and bibingka (and also castanas).

When I was in elementary, I used to go to the Parish of the Sacred Heart (Sta. Mesa) for Simbang Gabi. One early morning on my way to church, I saw a man who I thought was making “wee-wee” against the wall of Burgos Elementary School. As I was passing by him, I heard him muttering to himself but loud enough for me to hear him how sorry he was for having been an irresponsible husband and father to his wife and children and how he was going to change. I was sure he was drunk.

When I was a student of theology, I accompanied one of our new priests to celebrate Simbang Gabi in Lower Bicutan. We were riding in an “owner-type” jeep. As we drew near the chapel, fire crackers were set off. They were too near. Back at the seminary after the Mass, I took off my cassock and saw some small burnt marks at the back. Of course, I was upset!

Simbang Gabi is known also as Misa de Gallo and Misa de Aguinaldo. Alejandro Roces states that the correct name for the Christmas novena Masses was Misa de Aguinaldo. It was called thus because the novena Masses served as the people’s gift to Jesus and Mary for Christmas. Misa de Gallo would really be the Christmas Midnight Mass. But today we prefer to use Simbang Gabi for both the dawn Masses and the “anticipated” evening novena Masses.

In times past in rural areas a brass band would go around to wake up the people for the Mass. They do the same in some city parishes. I was told it happened once upon a time at Better Living, Paranaque. In most places, the parish loudspeakers would do the job. This may prove an irritant for some. At St. John Bosco Parish, an expat from Holland who was living at San Lorenzo Village complained to the parish priest (who happened to be from Holland, too) about the music coming from the loudspeakers of the Parish. The parish priest calmly told him that this was the Philippines. And during the nine days before Christmas he should expect this to happen.

The Ordo, the booklet containing “The Order of Prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours and Celebration of the Eucharist For the Dioceses of the Philippines” in a note for December 16 states: “Tomorrow begins the Aguinaldo Masses (white) in honor of the Blessed Virgin Mary, to be celebrated on the nine days before Christmas for the perseverance of the nation in faith.”

Especially in view of the fact that we are in the Year of Faith the Simbang Gabi Masses should become a help and an impetus to strengthen our faith in Christ.

THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION OF MARY (Dec. 8)

The Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception reminds me of a lot of things.

I made my First Communion at the San Sebastian Church on that day. It was early in the morning. Either the sun was not yet up or the sky was overcast.

I was ordained a priest on that day in 1983 by Jaime Cardinal Sin in the National Shrine of Mary Help of Christians in Better Living, Paranaque.

My assignment as a priest started in Don Bosco Mandaluyong. I stayed there for 13 years, first as the High School Catechist, then as Principal of the Basic Education Department and finally, as dean of the College of Engineering.

I was transferred to Don Bosco Makati and stayed for five years. I was supposed to be the last Rector of that institution. The plan was to close it and transfer it to another location. That did not push through and Don Bosco stayed put in Makati.

After that stint I was sent to Don Bosco Canlubang. In those days there were only two communities there: the Prenovitiate Community (which was also responsible for the school) and the Postnovitiate Community. Now there are three communities. The College Community takes care of the school.

I was with the Prenovitiate Community for five years. Then I asked to study Salesianity in Rome as part of my desire to deepen my Salesian identity as a priest to celebrate 25 years of priesthood in 2008.

And now I am back in Don Bosco Canlubang, but with the Postnovitiate community. This is my fourth year in this community.

Yesterday was Dec. 8. I turned 29 as a priest yesterday. (Today is Dec. 9 that I am publishing this article.). As I am wont to do when I celebrate an anniversary, I looked back and thanked God for giving me the privilege of being his priest in the Salesian Congregation. But I also looked into the future and asked God to indicate to me what he wants me to do in the concrete.

When I turn 30 as a priest (or sometime after that), I hope to go on a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Fatima in Portugal and to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. (I wasn’t able to go on a pilgrimage when I turned 25 as a priest. Yes, it’s late but better late than never.)

Please do say a little prayer for me.

Photo: Immaculada Concepcion Parish at Sta. Maria, Bulacan

LAS CASAS FILIPINAS DE ACUZAR

Bagac, Bataan

Its website has this to say: “A living museum of Philippine customs and traditions are re-born in a community typical of the 18^th to early 20^th century Philippines.    Historical Principalia  or noble class mansions, House of Stone  or Bahay na Bato and Wooden Stilt  houses that once, were old and decaying architectural  pieces of a  bygone era  and slowly fading into the background of modern urban life are now,  restored  in a picturesque setting reminiscent of a Juan Luna or Amorsolo paintings.  These architectural treasures that have been carefully and painstakingly reconstructed from different parts of the country and rebuilt “brick by brick” and  “plank by plank”  now stand resplendent with pride  against a backdrop of majestic mountains, expansive rice fields and   a running river that flows to the sea.”

It was by an unexpected turn of events that we had the good fortune to tour this place. After visiting our tito and tita who were well on in years and were suffering from ailments common to people of their age,  our cousin thought that it was a good idea for us to see what is called a heritage resort. She said that the period houses in the resort were disassembled and then brought to Bagac to be reassembled and restored.

The trip from Balanga to Bagac was uneventful and long. But we finally arrived.

Our lady guide was in a period costume. I think you it was called baro’t saya. We were given buri hats. That was a good idea because the sun was up and it was hot. And we had to walk from one house to another. It was, therefore, a pleasant respite to go to the restaurant for a tall glass of halo-halo before returning to Manila.

What can I say? The guide was pleasant and the information she was sharing with us was interesting. The houses were beautiful and well-taken care of. I felt as if I was snatched from the present and taken for a tour through different periods of our history as embodied by the architecture of the houses we visited. I must say that some of the houses were familiar sights during my childhood years. (Not that I am THAT old. I am just saying that some of the houses were from the 20^th century.) Perhaps it was because of this that I felt some nostalgia. I would describe it as a feeling of longing for the good old days of my childhood.

The good old days – the days gone by were good because the memories I had were pleasant memories. They were memories of warmth, safety, and happiness. And that is the case for many of us. But those memories are NOT completely accurate because not everything that happened was pleasant. Not everything was good.

Why don’t we remember the bad memories? Perhaps on a balance the good memories far outweigh the bad ones. That means that in general the old days were really good.

But for a few there were bad memories but they are too painful to remember. They had to forget these painful memories, if only to move on with their life (selective memory). They had to consign them to the unconscious (that’s what psychologists would say) in order to survive the hurts of the past.

But one day something triggers these bad memories. And their lives are disrupted and those around them, as well. Some of these people may need a therapist. But others may just need to re-tell their stories and in their re-telling live through the pain once more, not to suffer again but to deal with it as an adult, make peace with it and finally, to experience healing.

Where are you in this? You may be the one who need to re-tell you story now. Or you might be the one God has chosen to listen to another person’s story. When that happens, say a prayer. Ask God to give you a non-judgmental ear to listen and a sympathetic heart to embrace that person as she or he takes the first steps to find healing from the hurts of the past in order to be free to be truly happy. 

THE MAYON VOLCANO

For our summer camp this year we went to Bicol. We wanted our Postnovices to see the sights of Bicol and at the same time to visit our two Don Bosco training ce

nters in Carolina (Naga) and in Bangkerohan (Legazpi). As they say, we wanted to shoot two birds with one stone.

After staying in Carolina for a couple of days, it was time to go to Bangkerohan. As we approached Albay from Cam Sur I asked the Postnovices to be on the lookout for Mayon Volcano. I didn’t say why yet. But once they caught sight of it for the first time, I told them of a belief that was told to me many years ago. I was told then that when you look at the Mayon Volcano for the first time and you are able to see its peak, then it means that you are a virgin. If not, then you’re not!

I won’t tell you if they saw the peak or not. But this I can reveal. It was only at the airport on the way back to Manila when we were able to see a bigger portion of the volcano. Even then some parts were kept hidden by the clouds.

Today let me say something about being a virgin.

I looked up the meaning of the word "Fräulein" in Yahoo! Answers and I found this entry: “It means ‘young woman’ or ‘young lady’ and is no longer used in modern German.” And I think I know why.

When I was in Switzerland to help in the Holy Week religious services of the Filipino communities in the German-speaking cantons, one of the Filipinos who took good care of us (I was with two other Filipino priests who were also studying in Rome) said in passing that young women would consider it an insult to be addressed as "Fräulein". I was curious and so I asked “why?” And she with a mischievous grin answered: “Because it means they are still virgins.” To be called “Miss” with the implication of being still (!) a virgin, an insult? Grabe! How the Western world has changed!

But maybe it’s not only in the Western world. I have a feeling that many young Filipino males might find it embarrassing to admit they are still (!) virgins.

Let them hear from Raymund and Sally who were interviewed over IBC-13. They are a young couple.

Raymund: "When you surrender your virginity to your bride on your wedding night, you give a tremendous boost to her sense of security. Because she'd know that, if you were able to control yourself when you were single, you'd definitely be able to resist temptation now that you're already married."

Sally: "Adding to my sense of security is the certainty that my husband loves me a hundred percent. His virginity was very precious to him and he gave it to me."

Let Josette (also in the same Channel 13 program) have the last word. Josette declares: "The first night was the most exciting experience. It was really worth the wait. The knowledge that it was the first time for both of us heightened our shared joy. It was a mutual giving and receiving of love." Perhaps it is in this context that we should understand the meaning of the lyrics of a song: “True Love Waits”.

Do Raymund, Sally and Josette make sense to you?

Ok. Ok. Let me have the last word because I can’t help but add: If you are someone who is going to make a vow of chastity, will that vow make any sense if there is no virginity to offer up to God? And once you offer it up to God, will it not be a great act of sacrilege for you to take it back from him by committing unchastity?

Doesn’t this make sense, too?

REFRESHING SUMMER DRINK FROM SPAIN

It was last March this year when my sister took me to Tapella in Greenbelt 5 for lunch. It’s a restaurant serving Spanish dishes. Tapella, of course, comes from tapas and paella. Tapas are a wide variety of appetizers. We are more familiar with paella. It is a rice dish also of Spanish origin or more specifically, from Valencia. I do not know if Arroz Valenciana is the same as Paella Valenciana.

I do not remember the name of the drink that my sister ordered for us. But it reminded me of the summer drink that was served for lunch and dinner at the Salesian house in Salamanca where I stayed for one summer to study Spanish. The beverage was not sweet but I was assured that it helped make the summer heat bearable.

Why was I studying Spanish? You see, if you are taking a master’s degree at our University in Rome you have to know two international languages. Filipino and English do not count. So in addition to Italian I had to learn another language. I was told that I can study Russian, French, German or Spanish.

Why on earth would I study Russian? French? I would love to but I was scared by having to learn how the pronunciation. German? My sister warned me that it was a complex language. The syntax was such that you have to wait until the end of the sentence to get the meaning. And words seem to lengthen endlessly. And I found it strange that there were a lot of words inside the sentence that were capitalized.

I chose Spanish (or maybe it chose me). Because Spanish and Italian are both Romance languages (that is, derived from Latin), I surmised that I would find it easy to learn Spanish. They say that two people will find no difficulty in talking to one another with one speaking in Italian and the other speaking in Spanish. In fact while resting at the plaza major in Madrid, I heard two men conversing, one in Italian and another in Spanish. Also, having been a former Spanish colony, Filipinos have learned a lot of Spanish words and so I thought I would feel at home with the language. Finally, I didn’t think pronunciation would be a problem. In fact I discovered later on that the only sounds I needed to learn were the two variations for “LL” (for example, paeLLa).

Language is commonly associated with words both written and spoken. But language is not limited to words. We also communicate with our bodies and thus, the term body language. Embracing a loved one who has just arrived may communicate the message: “I am so happy you’re here.”

In St. Augustine’s Confessions, we find the phrase: “cor ad cor loquitur.” Centuries later John Henry Newman used it on his coat of arms. It is translated as “heart speaks to heart”. There is, therefore, such a thing as language of the heart. And it is this language that Don Bosco insisted that his Salesians learn if they hope to succeed in forming the young into upright citizens and good Christians.

If you are an educator or a parent, you may want to learn more about this language of the heart. Please visit >> http://happynun.wordpress.com/2011/12/07/education-is-a-matter-of-the-heart-don-bosco/

Slim is beautiful. Fat is ugly. That’s how it is the West. And maybe that’s the reason why ramp models have this anorexic (starved) look. But this is not something universal. In Africa fat is beautiful. This is how one blogger puts it: “Many women in the western world want to look slim, which is considered that a woman is beautiful and healthy.  However, most of the women in Africa have a tendency to gain weight on purpose, which is an ideal beauty for that society.  Being fat in Africa means to be desirable, beautiful, wealthy, healthy, and possess a good status in a society.”

“Ballerini”, a bronze sculpture of Colombian artist Fernando Botero, seems to suggest the belief that indeed fat is beautiful. A commentary on the sculptor reads: “A brilliant sculptor, Botero worked within the perimeters [parameters?] of generous proportions and created greatly rotund yet graceful figures, which convey an ironical yet boundless ideal of beauty.”

Slim. Fat. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

What does it mean?

Beauty is not objective. It does not depend on what one sees but on how one sees it. For instance, have you ever heard someone say that no child is ugly in the eyes of its mother? There is truth in that assertion, isn’t it?

While there is such a thing as objective reality, there is also such a thing as subjective reality. And it is subjective reality that matters more in everyday life. A birthday card made by a seven-year old may be objectively ugly. But it will bring tears to the eyes of a parent, who receives it first thing in the morning from his beaming seven-year old son.

Subjective reality is how we look at the world. It is how we interpret it. And how we interpret the world depends very much on the environment, on what we read, on the events of our life and on people we live with and listen to.

When Jesus spoke about the eye as a lamp, he was actually asking us to check on the way we look at the world and perhaps, take some necessary steps. “The lamp of the body is the eye. If your eye is sound, your whole body will be filled with light; but if your eye is bad, your whole body will be in darkness. And if the light in you is darkness, how great will the darkness be” (Mt 6:22-23).

Are our eyes sound? Or are they bad? How do we know? We may need to examine the way we look at the world against the backdrop of the teachings of Jesus. But then are we so immersed in Sacred Scriptures as to know the teachings of Jesus?

Maybe the first step we need to take is to buy a bible and then start reading the gospels. A journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step. Buy that bible. Take the first step.

Visiting the Dead--It's More Fun in the Philippines

About two years ago I decided to visit the North Cemetery. I learned that important people are buried there and I wanted to see their graves.

The first thing I discovered—and which to me was an unpleasant surprise -- was that the North Cemetery was not only the resting place of the dead but also a residential area for the living. I did not only find mausoleums but also houses. However, it proved to be a blessing because I was able to get directions from the residents (the living residents not the dead!).

I saw the tombs of Magsaysay, Sergio Osmena, Manuel Roxas and Manuel Quezon. I saw the tombs of Claro M. Recto, Arsenio (who earned the monicker “Arsenic”) Lacson, a mayor of Manila. Pancho Villa (the first Filipino champion in the flyweight division) has his tomb there. The tombs of National Artists and other literary figures are found there, too, such as Honorata dela Rama, Amado Hernandez, and Huseng Batute.

Next weekend will find Filipinos making their yearly pilgrimage to the tombs of their loved ones. Bus stations, airports and piers will be crowded with people on their way to the provinces. Undas is like a grand re-union that includes the living and the dead. This phenomenon seems to confirm the strength and extent of family ties, for even death seems to be powerless to sever these ties.

Every Filipino re-union is characterized by lots of talk and laughter, lots of eating and drinking, and singing (using Magic Sing). The re-union in the panchon (cemeteries) is no exception. However, liquor and deadly weapons are forbidden in an attempt to forestall violence. The karaoke and videoke are usually not allowed, too, in an effort to maintain a more sober ambience.

We Filipinos do not usually distinguish between the social and the religious because we see life as an indivisible whole. The yearly trek to the panchon is a social event with a religious motivation. We go there not only to meet our relatives. We go there to pray for the dead, too. And that should not be forgotten. Let us make sure it remains that way.

Is Christmas Just a Holiday?

Light-and-sound show at Ayala Triangle

I passed by SM recently. I wasn’t surprised by what I saw and by what I heard. I saw Christmas decorations. Christmas carols filled the air. 

Foreigners might be surprised. They may even find it weird. But not we. Christmas starts early in the Philippines. It starts on September and covers the four –BER months. In fact I was told that someone called up an FM station at the stroke of midnight (August 31) and requested that a Christmas carol be played to usher in the Christmas season (September 1).

Christmas is so different in the Philippines. One can feel it, see it, hear it, touch it and even smell it. It’s a happy mix of family, friends, relatives, gifts, food (lots of it!), Christmas parties, Noche Buena, Simbang Gabi, Christmas trees, parol, caroling and Christmas carols, Christmas lights (go and see the houses at Policarpio St. in Mandaluyong). It’s like being marinated in the Christmas spirit that by the time you participate in the Midnight Mass and partake of the Noche Buena you’re bursting at the seams with joy.

Maybe that’s why for the two years I was away from the country I felt an ache gnawing at my heart every Christmas.

I remember an advertisement many, many years ago during the Christmas season. What I can remember is a girl going down the stairs. She looks at a Christmas decoration on the wall. It read “Merry –mas”. One part had fallen. The thumb tack must have come loose. She gets a chair and climbs it and re-attaches the missing part – “Christ-“. She goes down and looks at her work. Now it is complete – “Merry Christmas”.

I found that video not just a persuasive piece of advertisement but a powerful catechism lesson. In those few seconds, I was reminded that Christmas would not be complete without CHRIST!

By all means let us make this Christmas a holiday of good cheer. But let us not forget that it is first of all a HOLY DAY. It is first of all about Christ!