Birthing...and Christening

Today, another Vincentian baby was baptized here in Houston, TX. Giovan and Jackie are proud parents to Sophia.

It was not only the time for all of us to feast and dine, but to reconnect again. The three of us, Kris, Stanley and myself, and our respective wives were the godparents.

Next pit stop? Kri's daughter christening.

THANKS TO ALL "FATHERS"

by Efren Dancel


Last week, June 18, we celebrated Father's day. One my best friend texted me about a Father. He is:

1% funny
2% sweet
3% caring
4% loving
90% Babaero

We'll maybe a lot of our batchmates who are now fathers (father of a family, fathered a child, or a father of the Church) have also received different kinds of messages recognizing their hardwork, patience, and accomplishments. You all need a one hell of a special day. Hopefully will have siblings' day? Paging GMA.

I went to EDSA Shangrila last week to have my pants tapered and have my shoes fix. While inside the mall, I went on a window shopping in the shoe stores. I noticed that most of the dads were the "king" that day. The wife and kids followed their daddy from one shoe store to the other. In one store that I happened to dropped by, a man, who is in his mid 40 to 50s, immediately grabbed the casual shoes that I've just returned from its display, and requested the salesperson, "size 10 nga". I overheard the wife said to his husband, "Hon, bagay sa iyo yan". "Oo nga dad", sip-sip naman ng kids. There were 2 things I asked myself: (1) is my taste gearing towards that of a father or the father just want to be a groovy father?; (2) are the wife and kids telling the truth or were they just impatient with shopping thing?

Speaking of a groovy father, last Monday I went to Cebu with my colleague for an official business. He was in his 40 to 50s, dressed very cool in his short sleeves polo shirt, Marks and Spencer's Harbour brand, jeans, and black casual shoes. At night, he sported a colored t-shirt and jeans. It really fits his looks and personality. But what is likeable about this dad was his pride for the achievement of his son, who is a Wesleyan University scholar. We had the chance to browse the schools virtual tour through my laptop and free wi-fi, courtesy of the hotel where we're staying. I was amazed that we can view his son's regular schedule from bio-researcher student, musician, accapela artist, and in-charge of orienting new students. Wow! what a versatile child. Like father, like son! We too have experienced the same traits or skills of our fathers have or have developed it for better.

I was planning to write a tribute to my dad before Father's day because of the article I read from Youngblood in the Inquirer about her "tribute to her Nanay". Similar to Alex's article. However, I really don't know where to start, because I have never seen my biological father. I guess I'm thankful for giving me life in this world as well as that of my step brother and sisters. We had our chance to see each other face to face when I was in grade school but I guess I was not ready at that time. I have lots of biases in my mind because of the stories I've heard with my mom and nanay (yaya). Stories like, he was a great liar because he already had a family when he met my mom; would always hurt my mom whenever they quarrelled; never provided me with milk; threatened cab drivers to give him money or else their car would be impounded and many other negative stories that you could imagine. I never saw him until he passed away last February 1986. Will I despise him now for what he did? I believe NO. Because God is so good that He gave me the opportunity to heal my wounded past while inside the seminary. I forgave him for all the things he did to me and I look forward to meeting and embracing him after my earthly mission is done. While there is pain, there are no regrets in my heart whenever I think of him because I have a Father in heaven who provides and takes care of me.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank the following persons who have given me a "father image" in their own little way:

1. Reynaldo Padua, my step dad and who lent his surname for me from pre-school to college;
2. Joaquin Tan, who brought out the anger within me;
3. Fr. Modesto Lopez, who have been my highschool father and shaped my values in life;
4. Jess Dawisan, my uncle who always believes in my capabilities;
5. Jess Liao, who taught me the chiness way of doing business;
6. Greg Chua, who have been my mentor at Insular life, cool guy under pressure;
7. Fr. Rey Garcia, who is a spiritual director, friend, brother;
8. Fr. Rufo Dino, who paved the way to appreciate life outside the seminary;
9. Fr. Armando Litana, who have been a spiritual director and friend when I was outside of the seminary.

May all the batchmates "fathers" bring inspiration to the ACM and VAI and the rest of the world!

PASTORAL VISIT and VAI Re-ECHO

THE VISIT


The families of VAI-houston were very much privileged to have Fr. Rhey Garcia for his first pastoral visit in Texas. Not even the downpour of hurricane Dolly could dampen our spirit nor doubt Fr. Rhey’s resolved to visit Houston. (Artesian parishioners even warned him of not coming to Houston where a “category 5” hurricane was brewing)

FIRST STOP:

Right after arriving from Hobby Airport we immediately proceeded to Kris’ and Giovan’s family sponsored dinner at Jade Restaurant, a small place to dine right along Highway 6, but with a lot of surprised succulent menus that could be found only in an upscale restaurant in downtown Houston. (We had no clue that right in front of our noses lies a “real Chinese restaurant).

Although, for some of us, it was only the first meeting, yet you can very well observe the “thread” that bound us to get along fast and bond; the SVP experience. Indeed, no matter from what generation you belong, whoever were your formandi, and whether or not you reached SVS, VHS or DPH the moment you talk about Vincentian formation, the brotherhood snapped so fast that you can’t help but noticed you belong with one another.

A little while after dinner, we transferred to a coffee shop. But not long after we were seated, we were informed that the store is closing in 15 minutes. Frustrated yet not down and imploring St. Vincent’s charisma for the poor, Giovan winked at the gracious lady in the counter and asked if he could take some of the pastries for free since they are going to dump them anyway.

The charisma worked and the lady complied giving him two full small bags of cakes and pastries which we devoured on our way out.

DAY TWO
While most of them were at work, Fr. Rhey and I went to NASA. It was a weekday; hence, the usual throngs of people on weekends were absent. We didn’t even had a hard time lining for the tram tour. Unfortunately, a small torrential downpour drenched us while we were on the way to the Historic Command Center.

While seated in the public viewing center of the old Command Center (remember the Apollo XIII, “Houston, we have a problem!” experience?), we were briefed on the history and future development of NASA, how excited they are for the forthcoming launching of another space shuttle comes October, and how ecstatic they are for the “return to the moon” project. They even shared that by 2030-35, NASA could possibly land the first man on Mars.

The site of the Saturn V amazed us. How in the world can man create such an intricate web of electronics, copper, helium and others, yet flies so fast and powerful? Indeed, it was a rocket science.

Leaving our astrophysics questions behind, we opted to take pictures instead with the famous astronauts who conquered the moon and came back. Fr. Rhey in fact tried carrying the moon on his shoulder, (ala Sharon Cuneta of Pasan ko ang Daigdig).

While we enjoyed fascinating the wonders of man’s space conquest, Fr. Rhey was too delighted to savor the process of “going there and experiencing the here and now” of man’s space odyssey evident inside the NASA center.

First on our list was the Blast Off, where you were given a first hand feel of space shuttle’s lift off, (with its rumblings and shaking). Next was the history of moon’s conquest shown in cinematic concept with a real touch of the historic podium where JFK spoke at Rice University. Fr. Rhey had a chance too to touch one of the rocks of the moon flown from the space.

The top of the list was in the Kiddo’s World. (I had no idea why we stayed there the longest time). Although I tried convincing (and forcing)

Fr. Rhey to stay fast and out of that area, yet he was determined to experience all that it offered, from the weighing scales (where you can find out how much you weigh if you are in Saturn, Jupiter, etc.), balloons and weight lifting to the simulation docking of space shuttle.

I saw his undying determination in life when he was waiting for his turn to dock the imaginary space shuttle. He was trying to compete with the school age children with their parents in tow.

He can’t get himself seated in the pilot’s seat because a new kid comes right after the other with parents in tow. Even though Fr. Rhey was supposed to be the next in line, he would always comply to give way.

He was only able to dock the ship when all of the kids were done and no grown up was looking at us.

We tried going to Kemah for a boardw2alk and rides, yet the weather did not permit us.

Instead, we turned around and went back to Pearland for our dinner with Fr. Rhey’s former high school students from San Jose Iloilo, who happened to be living and working in Houston.

To be continued…

THEN and NOW...

by Reynold Glenn Jaboneta

May 22, 2008, from Pangasinan after spending some time in the Hundred Islands, I journeyed up to the city of pines and the summer capital of the Philippines, Baguio. By the way I was watching Boy and Kris over ABS-CBN and one of the questions they asked their guests was the summer capital of the Philippines and they answered Boracay. The child stars of Goin Bulilit were their guests that episode.

It was my first time to use the Marcos Highway on my way up to Baguio. Remember then on our way up to Baguio we took the Kennon Road.

I stayed in Villa Milagrosa. We stayed then in Villa Milagrosa for our retreat with Fr. Danny Pilario, C.M. then our formator now Assistant Provincial of the Vincentians in the Philippines. We had then our pranic healing sessions with Sr. Zenaida Gan, D.C. in Villa Milagrosa. Now Sr. Zeny is in Sagrado, a DC school in Iloilo and a staunch advocate for the use of natural energy, farming and love for Mother Earth.

Then…from the chapel of Villa Milagrosa remember the stained glass we could see and behold the Grotto of Baguio. Now, I could barely distinguish the grotto because of the numerous houses and structures surrounding the area. Now from Villa Milagrosa the SM Baguio is visible.

Then…less vehicles, less structures, and less people. Now…more vehicles, more and more structures and more and more people. Try to visit the Mines View Park now. It is literally a Divisoria, a marketplace, a commercial district. Then…at least there was a glimpse of the mine with a view and a park. Now…it has no mine…no view…no park.

Then, when Fr. Danny instructed us for the so-called desert experience, we made our way to Burnham, to the Botanical Garden, to Camp John Hay and to every nook and corner in Baguio like tourists enjoying the very cool weather and everything that Baguio could offer us. Then, we did not worry about traffic, how to get from one park to another, from one place to another. Now…what else there is to see. The pine trees you need to check whether it is made of cement. The plants and flowers of Baguio could not anymore entice my eyes. These plants are like that in an ordinary backyard of a neighbor.

There is still the walis-Baguio, the strawberry jams…these at least remind me that I am in Baguio and the very cool air. Maybe because it rained during my stay which made the weather very Baguio-like. One night, power was interrupted that at least without the heater I could shout my heart out for the water was freezing me. By the way, going back to Villa Milagrosa, I went to every corner of the house to remember the happy thoughts, the happy scenes, the happy memories, the tears, the shouting, the silence…I remember the house and I remember the feelings way back then. The dining area, the rooms, the garden, the chapel... the Villa Milagrosa during our retreat then is also today at the verge of its extinction.

Then and now…look at us…life is a constant change, indeed.

GOOD FRIDAY…PAINFUL BUT MEANINGFUL

by Bogs Dancel

I had an early Good Friday morning laugh, when I received this text message:

Erap to Cardinal: Hanggang ngayon galit pa ang simbahan sa akin. This is unfair!
Cardinal: Bakit mo naman nasabi yan?

Erap: Mayroong Sabado de Gloria, Sagrado de Corazon, Domingo de Ramos. Bakit ako wala naging president din naman ako!
Cardinal: Sige, mula ngayon sa iyo na ang Ass Wednesday!

I guess my friend has a way of coping up the solemnity of Holy Week. As for me, I had the opportunity to reflect about Mama Mary’s “pain” at the balcony of the hotel room where we spent the Holy Thursday and Good Friday. The balcony is overlooking the neighboring townhouses surrounded by tall trees, along Amadeo main road. I felt the early morning breeze touching my skins, as I breathed its fresh air, and waited the full rays of the sun.

As I reflected on the significance of Good Friday, I remembered the movie “Passion of Christ” where Mama Mary witnessed helplessly Jesus accused of a crime, scourged at the pillar, carried and died on the Cross.

Recently, a newly found friend and office mate called me up and shared comments of another colleague about me, “Si Bogs, ang yabang! sobrang lakas ng dating”...etc...etc... My first reaction was more of a denial, “Why? What have I done? I’m sorry I can’t pleased everybody.” I felt my pride was pricked by the criticism. However, as I recalled what happened after our conversation, I thought of maybe there were truths to the feedback. Maybe I hurt my colleague in the manner how said something. I suddenly became uneasy and forewarned my staff to be careful dealing with that colleague of ours. Just last week, we had the opportunity to know better each other as a person and to let go of our ill feelings.

I remembered my mom, who used to spank me when I was a kid with either a slipper or a belt every time I misbehaved. Afterwards, she would force me to say sorry to her. Well, things change when I became an adult, we would engage in a heated argument to the point that I oftentimes shouted at her. Afterwards, I made sure I implicitly apologize to her by embracing her at night without saying sorry. I knew and felt her loved for me despite of being a prodigal son. She always thought of my well-being even in the last years of her life, “Kaya mo na ba anak pag-wala nako?”

It was December 24, 1999, when mommy passed away. When I saw her lying in the morgue, tears suddenly fell down in my eyes and I felt the stabbing pain in my chest that I can hardly breathe. A thought came to my mind, “Shit! hindi ko na pala makaka-usap si Mommy.” Then, I started shouting and crying and crying and crying...I remembered I kissed her and said goodbye in the morning before I left for work and told her, “sige gawa ka ng paborito mong fruit cocktail.”
I felt abandoned for the third time in my life loosing mommy. At first, my biological Father, whom I’ve never saw in my life. Second, my “Nanay” Presing, whom I failed to be in her deathbed. She had been very instrumental planting the seeds of my relationship with Jesus, filling in the shoes of my mother while she was away for business, and grooming to be neat, decent and presentable as a child.

I believe God will time and again allow me to experience these pains in the future so I can develop more my character as person and to continue glorify Him.

SEMINARY and...SUSHI

...that was the central theme of our last meeting with the ACM/VAI here at home in Lakes of Savannah. We were joined by our respective wives and kids (except for Deacon Dale).

It was a very informal get together that we follow at least every month or so. Although the gathering is centered most of the time to dine and wine, yet we never forgot to relate our lives to the universal seminary experience. And, indeed, no matter what batch you’re in, the experience is almost the same. Only the timeline differs.

This month, February, we were privileged to be joined by Deacon Dale. Although, he kind of complained why Charlie Lapus and Ed Bas failed to attend, for it made him the most senior of us all.

This time, Tofe proved to be serious about his promise to make some sushi. He indeed redeemed himself by making such succulent sushi at par with any first class Japanese restaurant here in Houston. He topped it all with baked yellow fin. Then we washed it all with wine and beer.

And as faithful husbands and ex-sems…we had “lights off” before eleven…ready for the next day.

BALAAN BUKID

by Reynold Glenn Jaboneta

There was a time in my life that I visited Camiguin Island. It was summer and I was told aside from visiting and seeing the wonderful beaches and springs of the island there was a need to visit their own version of the “Way of the Cross.” The experience was tiring and really a battle of the will that I need to finish my “Way of the Cross” and it was literally an experience of climbing up the hill under the heat of the sun.

Over here in Iloilo, we have Guimaras Island. Since I was a child the huge cross atop the island facing Iloilo City was already a sight to behold. We call the place Balaan Bukid. Balaan is the dialect for holy and bukid for mountain. Balaan bukid then means holy mountain.

It was only this year that I literally trekked my way up to Balaan Bukid. The students from the Basic Education Department who are members of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul (SSVP) invited me for their culmination activity which involved a visit to Balaan Bukid.

March 16 this year was my baptism to Balaan Bukid. With me were fifty students and some teachers and the pump boat we hired brought us at the edge of the island the part fronting Iloilo City. There was no port and all I could see were rocks. We carefully disembarked with the aid of the boat men. We followed the path and we reached the first station of the way of the cross.

It was a sight to behold. Nature was untouched. As we climbed our way up we were sheltered by the canopy of trees. Rock formation as it is, all the greens around us and the magnificent panorama of the sea beneath us and afar is Iloilo. I was in the company of young people. They have all the energy there is in the world to enjoy the trek.

We finally reached the top where the huge cross was planted to signify that we are now in Balaan Bukid. Just like in the story of the transfiguration it was an experience to behold and could move us to stay and build tents for ourselves.

I was told there is another way of reaching Balaan Bukid. One may come to Balaan from Iloilo to Jordan Wharf and up to Balaan. But the road less taken is the one we trekked.

It is now Holy Monday. I made my way up to Balaan Bukid of Guimaras on a Palm Sunday.

Life they say is dynamic that is why some would call it a journey and a search. It is again another year of remembering the passion, death and resurrection of Our Lord Jesus Christ. I would like to begin from here… that of searching, journeying.

One, sometimes I do not have to search from far away lands. My Balaan Bukid experience is telling me there is so much to discover right at the very places near me. I can be faulted on this one. The principle that the farther we go the richer the experiences are cannot be a general principle. This is true on a personal level, this is true on a national level, and this is true when we look at our families. Sometimes we just need to look at the power within us, the very heart, the very feelings, the emotions we hold are not far. They are at the very core of our beings. We just have to recognize them and own them and in recognizing and owning them we become people whose hearts are made of flesh. Forgiving and forgetting become easy. To shed tears becomes spontaneous, to embrace a foe is always heroic and life can become baggage free and we journey only with essentials.

Second, life can never be a clear cut path for all of us. One may reach life through the normal way (Iloilo-Jordan-Balaan) and the way we are used to or the other way (Iloilo-side of the island-trek then Balaan). The other way is unfamiliar, dangers lurking. But the point is we reached the same apex. We commune with the same God. I prefer to go the other way.

Let me get personal. In 1988, when I entered the seminary the normal way was to go through the stages of formation-philosophy, theology and other stages of formation in between. Some made it to become priests through this way. Others prefer to trek what was not the way it may seem to be normal. I have been to the other seminary with that aim to become a priest. But the aim was through the normal, tested way.

Looking back, God is showing me there is another way. Perhaps God allowed me to leave the comforts of seminary life and formation to be uncomfortable with the world, to be nobody, to be humiliated, to be rejected and to be just one grain of sand, very insignificant.

It was a tough journey. It is still. But I am confident that the hand of God is working. I read this line, “God writes a straight line in crooked strokes, so if you cannot understand His plan then you just have to trust His hand.”

In fact, some of you may have been the hands that God are using to lead me back or just give me a break, a nap in my journey, in my search. Thank you.

Thirdly, I received a forwarded message from my student : “What you are really afraid of: you are not scared of the dark…you are scared of what’s in it. You are not afraid of heights…you are afraid of falling. You are not afraid of the people around you…you are just afraid of rejection. You are not afraid to love…you are just afraid of not being loved back. And you are not afraid to try again…you are just afraid of getting hurt for the same reason.”

Another forwarded message, “No matter how broken we have become, we never lost the potential to become good gifts for others. It is often the wounded healers who go on to live the boldest and victorious lives. Just always remember we do not own anything. Everything is temporary. God is the owner of our lives. All glory is God’s glory.”

Lastly, this message, “Why was David able to stand against the giant when the army of Israel pulled back in fear? It is because he saw Goliath not as a threat to big to hit. But as a target too big to miss. Most of the time, it is not the situation that has the complication. It is the way we see things that matter very much in determining our victory.”

I remember these messages as I make sense of my trek to Balaan Bukid the other day.

Balaan Bukid is just there. Perhaps, it is because it is just there.

Thank you, Balaan Bukid because the CROSS atop you is a statement of victory, crown that awaits people who dare to cross the sea and trek its sides, and apex of life.

This perhaps is what semana santa is all about.

By: Reynold Glenn S. Jaboneta