Taking the fall
I arrived in Cebu on October 19, four days after the quake. Meanwhile, the first Philippine Conference on New Evangelization (PCNE) was held in Manila with Cardinal Tagle aptly sharing on “Faith Amidst the Ruins”. I was in for a very rude awakening.
At about 4 a.m. of Sunday, October 20, I woke up to a very strong aftershock. Seven other perceptible tremors were felt that day. I could not sleep. If sleep is nearly impossible in the wake of aftershocks, how much more the main earthquake itself? It is an overwhelming feeling.
What allowed me to cope was prayer that dealt with ultimate concerns, along the lines of the Church’s Night Prayer: “Protect us Lord as we stay awake. Watch over us as we sleep…May the All Powerful Lord grant us a restful night and a peaceful death…” One learns to entrust ones life completely to God and be reminded that we really do not have any control over our lives.
Only God is in control.
* * *
One of the most inspiring moments in the aftermath of the earthquake was a stellar performance by the world-renowned Loboc Children’s Choir. Clad in t-shirts and shorts, and having the rubble of the St. Peter’s Church in the background, the children poignantly sang “The Prayer.” It brought tears to my eyes.
Shared faith is the biggest coping reality in the aftermath of the earthquake. Believers feel real pain at the loss of their cultural, spiritual homes and mothers – centuries-old church buildings that symbolized collective, accumulated memories conveying identity and shared humanity. It is this same Christian faith – that gives us rise to shared grief over such losses – that will see us through and enable us to rise above the ruins.
Two images capture this faith dimension. The first is the statue of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Loon. Amidst the ruins of what was once Bohol’s biggest church building emerged the unscathed statue of the Virgin of the (Brilliant) Light. It is now an iconic symbol of hope.
Another symbol is right next to where I live at the theology seminary of Cebu. It is a cross with an eight-foot long corpus of Jesus Christ, dubbed as the “last-three minute” Jesus, and done by National Artist, Napoleon Abueva. Literally hanging in mid-air between two horizontal wires, the cross fell to the ground.
I asked Monsignor Marnel Mejia, who had been one of the seminarians who carried the huge cross up the stairs nearly 20 years ago, what he thought of these two seemingly contradictory images of the Virgin and the Cross. “Our Mother stood up for us like she did underneath the cross…like any good mother when her children are in distress,” he began. “With the seminary cross, Jesus takes the fall for us,” he ended.
Mother and Son, together for us.
* * *
The natural disaster that visited my region has nothing to do with God’s wrath or “gaba”. Sadly, there are those who think this way and only prayers and catechesis can help them overcome such meanness of spirit.
Earthquakes rearrange the earth’s crust like pieces of a puzzle. They also rearrange people’s individual and communal lives in a fundamental way. Shared suffering offers opportunities to exercise faith, hope, and love in the family, neighborhoods, and in the common space we share as citizens. While it is always risky to think one knows what God is thinking, I am convinced that God chose us to strengthen his presence among us, and to inspire others in their faith.
I know of families bracing together, waiting for debris to fall upon them, and rediscovering strength in togetherness. I know of young people coming together, sharing their passion and their expertise, to ensure that no one and no family is left behind in the distribution of relief goods. I know of priests coming together with parishioners, rediscovering what it is to be a father to them, sharing their fears and their needs. I know of anonymous drivers bringing relief goods through their trucks and boats. I know of doctors taking the lead to reconstruct a public hospital. I know of Filipinos, here and abroad, forgetting their regional affiliations to share their human and material resources. I know of individuals who continue to share even when they turn out to be the most needy in their communities.
Is this a glimpse of a new Philippines?
“Sometimes we think that God is in the building,” Bishop Medroso of Tagbilaran tells me. “Our church buildings were certainly labors of love by our forefathers who contributed something to their construction,” he continues, “but we need to discover the fundamental truth that we are the Church and that God dwells in us through baptism.”
Any reconstruction of our churches must reflect this reality.
