Don Bosco's Manifesto on Pastoral Charity

This year, as we celebrate the 150^th year of the death of St. John Vianney and the 150^thyear of the founding of our congregation, we also mark the quasquicentennial of the Letter from Rome.

On May 6, 1884, exactly one hundred twenty five years ago, St. John Bosco who was in Rome dictated a letter to his secretary, Fr. John Lemoyne. The letter neither contained empty pleasantries nor some sporadic housekeeping procedures the recipients ought to take note of. That important correspondence, as we know it now, is a synthesis of how Don Bosco desired his Salesians to deal with the young people.

This letter was mailed four day's letter. But Fr. Michael Rua did not think that it should be read out in its entirety in public, and so he requested that a copy be sent to him that was suitable for the pupils.

The letter from Rome is rightly called as such because it is precisely that—Don Bosco wrote it from Rome. But probably, it is more appropriate to call it "the letter from the heart," because every single thought contained in the letter is unmistakably an expression of Don Bosco's love for his Salesians and the young people of his oratories.

Fr. Peter Braido, one of the foremost experts in the field of the Preventive System, would say that "the eleven short pages constitute the clearest and most essential document of the pedagogy of Don Bosco, which is, in itself, one of the most meaningful in the whole of Christian pedagogy.

The letter touched on the subject of his deteriorating physical health—frail body, and his poor eyesight. But amidst all these, he never failed to mention how he delights to write to them, and how he looks forward to hear from them.

The first paragraphs of the letters, using the standard of our young people, sounded cheesy. He could not contain his emotions probably because he would always wear his heart on his sleeve, especially when he was composing that letter. He emphasized the brand of loving kindness which he hopes to be known for in his institute: patience, gentleness, and no humiliating remarks. He challenged the recipients, to exercise only these in the realm of the Oratory, and "the boys should not only be loved, but realize that they are loved."

To speak of an authentic love of a Salesian is to make a distinction. Here, let me ask the help of Pope Benedict.

"Love," the Holy Father said, "in the true sense, is not always a matter of giving way, being soft, and just acting nice. In that sense, a sugar-coated Jesus or a God who agrees to everything and is never anything but nice and friendly is no more than a caricature of real love. Because God loves us, because he wants us to grow into truth, he must necessarily make demands on us and must also correct us."

Don Bosco, perhaps relying on the filial affection of his boys, openly speaks about what delights him: the practice of virtues, regularity in confessions and communion, which ultimately leads to the salvation of souls.

I first read that letter on the latter part of my novitiate. I thought that we would not tackle it since we seldom give attention to the appendix part of any textbook. After all, there is a reason why appendix is found at the last few pages of any publication if in case its author decides to come up with one. It is merely a supplement, something that can be dispensed with. We would not miss anything important if we skip that part. Things remain to be valid even without reading that section. But there is also a sufficient reason why there is an appendix. And why that letter has been part of our constitutions.

One hundred twenty five years after the letter was written, read and reflected on, have we managed to remain faithful to Don Bosco's challenges to his Salesians? Will there be a need to write another letter?

The initial reaction was for me to see my locale vis-à-vis the setting when that letter was composed. With the ugly depiction the oratory morphed to be against the backdrop of the golden age of the glorious oratory, I saw the relevance of coming up with such a letter. There was a need for it. A reminder was in order.

Six months from now, I will be in practical training. I am not denying it; whether it is Cebu, Mandaluyong, Pampanga or Guam—I am excited—regardless of wherever I would be assigned. I will be able to flex my own Salesian muscles and live first hand a life of a son of Don Bosco immersed in the active apostolate. By then, I don't expect to be with Br. Joji or any other brother assistant to remind me of my duties. I will also free myself from the 'nagging love' of Fr. Bobby or any other prefect of discipline to instantly offer corrections.

But I know that I am also gripped by fear when as I inch towards that time.

As a young Salesian, I cringe whenever I am reminded that I ought to be a sign and bearer of God's love for the young. This is such a tall order. But I am sure, it can be done. With God's grace, I know that it is possible.

Again, this letter will only continue to be relevant if the message it articulates remains to be valid to the lives of those people concerned. After all, people and events which are worth celebrating are moments which continue to remain relevant to our lives.

Don Bosco did not write a treatise on pastoral charity. Instead, he composed a letter, ordering and begging his Salesians then—and especially now—to make themselves be present in the midst of the young.

This year, we celebrate Don Bosco's 121^st death anniversary. Year after year, we go farther and farther from him. Nobody is left among his boys who encountered him in the flesh, but he left us a legacy which documents the pedagogy he wished to live and carried out by his sons. His letter from Rome speaks eloquently of this paternal legacy we ought to treasure most.

Become a good news!

The past weeks have been a heyday for various mass media outfits. There was a knee-jerk reaction from various fronts on the move of the lower house to change the constitution. The A(H1N1) fever also created some hullabaloo stealing the limelight from the local political scene. Not to mention the equally scandalous fanfare conjured by that infamous video featuring a cosmetic doctor leaked out to the Internet for the entire world to see.

These news paint the atmosphere of the country rather bleak. And hopelessness seems to be the order of the day. With these things at hand, it's not just difficult to look into the future with a sense of optimism; it's a scary affair altogether.

Today is the 24^th of the month. For others, this day may not have any significance at all. But for us who are sons of Don Bosco, we are aware that the concurrence of the numbers two and four of each month is a special day for us to commemorate the Blessed Mother.

We just had the commemoration Mass earlier. But apart from the extra dose of practices of piety we observe today in honor of the Blessed Mother, the 24^th of each month reminds us that we don’t journey alone. Mary continues to walk with us and she loves us to no end. Despite the raging bad news that storms our life, we care to note that there is still good news, after all.

And so, let me share with you Psalm 23 with some little modifications:

My mom is my shepherd; I shall not want. She makes me lie down under cool, downy comforts. She watches me play beside still waters. She restores my soul.

She leads me in paths of respect, responsibility, and goodness, for I am her namesake!

Yea, even though I walk past monsters in the dark, I will not be scared, because my mom is always near me. Her hands and her voice, they comfort me.

Mama sets the table and cheerfully calls me to dinner even in front of big, mean bullies.

She anoints my skinned knees and broken heart with kisses. She smiles and throws me a towel when my cup runs over.

Surely God's peace, power, and mercy shall uphold me all the days of my life, for my Mother taught me to dwell in the house of God forever.

The Blessed Mother is indeed a good news. She was the relief of the newly-wed couple in Cana, she was the comfort of her cousin Elizabeth, she was the lasting refuge of her dying Son at the cross.

In our Gospel sharing last Saturday, Br. Sami said something to this effect: “I am limited in the postnov. I cannot travel across the globe to remedy the problem happening in Iran, Greece, Pakistan… The most that I could do is to do good to the people most proximate to me.”

As her sons, we are, too, expected to be a good news to others. Forget about the universal grand scheme to save mankind. We are invited to do the littlest things that we could in order to make heaven happen. Right here. Now.

On Being Signs

In celebration of the 150th founding anniversary of the Salesians of Don Bosco, the Social Communications arm of the congregation launched a logo-making contest. I was not able to make it to the deadline, but I know a handful of those who joined.

I was told that there were about 150 entries to the competition.

The prize includes a pilgrimage to the Salesian holy places such as Rome, Piedmont and Annecy—travel expenses, board and lodging all covered!

Come to think of it, the prize is over a hundred thousand pesos. But more than the monetary value of what's at stake, the invaluable experience of tracing out the life of Don Bosco and even of St. Francis of Sales by visiting the places they lived in, is worth more than the money.

But what's in a logo? Why would the congregation fork out a sizable amount for an insignia that would only be used for a year anyway?

A logo is a graphical element that, together with a uniquely set and arranged typeface form a trademark or commercial brand. The logo is one aspect of a company's commercial brand, or economic or academic entity, and its shapes, colors, fonts, and images usually are different from others in a similar market.

It is hard to think of a successful business or company that does not have a logo. In fact, I can't think of even a single one.

A logo, penetrating people's mind as a selling agent, becomes a synonym of the company or the product it represents. Hence, a logo which is accurately designed, rightly becomes the company's identification card. Perhaps, McDonalds did it so well that more people could identify its golden arches than those who could characterize the Christian cross.

The Salesians are also called to become a logo, a sign, not of a particular brand of food, nor a line of service, nor a mere type of academic institution. More than anything else, we are chosen and given the task to become a sign and a bearer of God's love for the young.

Geez! Isn't that exciting!? We don't only become a look-alike of Christ, but we ourselves concretely represent the unique breed of love that He has!

"To be the signs and bearers of the love of God for young people" is such a wonderful phrase, and in fact, the Constitutions use it eight times! But our "Project of Life," that huge book annotating our Constitutions points out that to become a God's logo "is a very demanding obligation." It requires the whole of our being to become a bridge where the young people and God meet.

I cannot recall any treatise Don Bosco wrote entitled "On becoming signs and bearers of his love." But then, he left with us a splendid family treasure, his life, which guided the four young boys Rua, Cagliero, Rocchietti and Artiglia to become the first Salesians of Don Bosco.

And in my humble opinion, 120 years after the death of Don Bosco, his life has not lost its potency. In it, we still find the dazzling expression of the love of a Good Shepherd.

In one episode in the life of Don Bosco, a cardinal asked him, "How is one to win the trust of the young?"

"By trying to attract them and by eliminating whatever alienates them," Don Bosco replied.

The cardinal asked, "How can we attract them to us?"

"By going to them first, by trying to adapt to their tastes, by becoming like them. Would you like a demonstration? Tell me: where are we likely to find a large crowd of boys?"

"In Piazza Termini or Piazza del Popolo," the cardinal answered.

"Good; then let's go to Piazza del Popolo."

Once there. Don Bosco alighted from the carriage while the cardinal stayed to watch. Spotting a group of boys playing, Don Bosco went up to them, only to see them take to their heels. He called them back in a kindly voice. After a little hesitation, they came up to him. Don Bosco gave them some small things and asked them about their families and their game. He told them to go on with it while he watched or even joined in. Other boys who had been observing this at a distance came running over in great numbers from all sides. Don Bosco greeted them affectionately, and for them too he had a good word and some little gift. He asked them if they were good, if they said their prayers, and if they went to confession. When he turned to leave, they followed him and would only let him go when he got into the carriage again. The cardinal was amazed.

A logo in itself does not really have much meaning behind it. It is not necessary in building the brand. And when it is created, it has no meaning unless it is attached to the name of the business.

The Salesians of Don Bosco, which is now in its 150 years of existence, has been quite successful in its mission to care for, teach and evangelize young people, and therefore, has created for itself a sheltered niche in the Church.

But the task to make our works relevant in the face of so many issues that now confront us, and to make these all the more attractive remains to be a tall order.

Today, we officially enter the advent season. We know from our basic catechism that advent is about "coming." And as look forward to reliving that great mystery of God's incarnation, I do hope that we'll become, in our own right, stars that will lead the people to the right direction.

http://www.wikipedia.com

² http://www.soslogodesign.com

³ Schlosser, E. (2001). Fast Food Nation: The Dark Side of the All-American Meal .

⁴ Article 2 of the SDB Constitutions
⁵ Project of Life

⁶ EBM V, pp. 600-601

In the Heart of a Mother

A Few years ago a cat named Scarlet made headlines when she risked her life by re-entering a burning building five times to rescue her kittens one-by-one. Even though her eyes were blistered shut and her paws were burned, she did not rest until she had retrieved all her babies, touching them with her nose to know that they were safe.

In the United Kingdom, a cow named Blackie and her calf were separated when they were sold separately at an auction. The distraught mother broke out of her enclosure and was found seven miles away on another farm, contentedly suckling her calf.^[1]

Stories like these, which feature the love of animal mothers for their young, never fail to melt my heart. There is always a sense of connectedness, a feeling that I can relate with because I too have a mother. Having said this, I realized that I never have to go far, for I am sure, there is a legion of heartwarming instances of how human mothers express their selfless love for their children.

Browsing through the newspapers weeks ago, I encountered two news accounts that caught my fancy.

The first was about the heroic act of a mother in saving her four kids before a deadly slide hit her house. Sensing danger, she gathered her children—all four of them!—and ran out of their house, when the rumbling became louder. That landslide left 16 casualties including 14 individuals still reported to be missing.

We know how a mother always wants the best for her children. However, the word “best” is relative. To each his own, so to say.

The second news story falls in this category. Quite recently, I came across a news article about a mother who had her three children drink a toilet cleaner, which she herself drank, too—ending all their lives in the process. Authorities recovered a suicide note left in their residence asking her relatives to forgive her and care for her 7-year-old son who was sleeping in his grandmother's house at the time of the incident.

And then, there goes another story of a mother who allowed her Son to suffer a gruesome and embarrassing death. She knew that her Son, her only Child was innocent. But then, she allowed things to run their course.

After the wedding feast at Cana, the mother was prominently absent from the scene. She was never mentioned at all—until the cross. That mother, the mother of Jesus, was present on Calvary. She was drawn to the Son in the hour of His suffering.[2]

A mother’s love brought her to the foot of the Cross. The woman closest to Jesus in life was closest to him in death. Love gave Mary the courage to be there. Pope Benedict XIV, just quite recently, reflected on that "the cross reminds us that there is no true love without suffering, there is no gift of life without pain,"

The moment on the Cross is the "hour" of redemption. It is that distinct instance when God's blueprint for our salvation has been accomplished. That plan became possible because of a mother, because of Mary.

She is our mother, not just for a time, but for all eternity. In the birth pangs of Golgotha, the Church is born. And, at the center, there beats the heart of a mother.[3]

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[1] http://www.hindu.com/2006/05/14/stories/2006051403120200.htm

[2] http://www.patersondiocese.org/page.cfm?Web_ID=2150

[3] Ibid.

Our Lady's Help

The year 2007 is one of the most unforgettable years in my life. For those who have been aware of my journey in the Salesian life, like Fr. Roel, the reason is quite obvious: last year, I finally entered the novitiate after three attempts as a pre-novice.

I marveled at the omnipotence of God’s grace as a novice. Fr. Mols, the formator In-charge of the pre-novitiate community could have not said it any better, “the novitiate is the most wonderful year in a life of a religious.”

Looking back, I can only agree with him.

But then, I would be lying if I say that all is cherry in the novitiate. It is not. I had to grapple with so many issues that haunted me —both human and spiritual. But then again, I told myself that I could dismiss these concerns. After all, they were not life threatening. Tagalogs put it best “malayo naman ito sa bituka.” I was not aware that I was in for some more severe challenges.

It came when I got a phone call from my mother. She told me that the result of the biopsy done on her revealed that she had a renal cancer. Her doctors told her that she is on stage two and the malignant tumor needed to be removed right away before the situation becomes irreversible.

This came to me not only as a bad news but it has shaken all of me—my vocation, included. Reviewing my journal, I can easily say that it’s one of the most difficult challenges I had braved during my novitiate year.

I prayed harder than before.

When I was an aspirant, it was a habit for me to pray 10 ‘Hail Mary’s’ or at least one decade of the rosary while lulling myself to sleep after lights off. In the novitiate, I continued on with this habit. But when I got the news about my mom, I did not only offer an extra decade or mystery, but persevered to dedicate one extra rosary each day.

And then the answer came.

Mama called, breaking to me the news about the surgery. She told me that the doctors had to remove her right kidney since the tumor had already outgrown it.

But by and large, the operation was a success. However, this came with a hefty price.

To ensure that the cancer would not recur, she opted to have a post-surgery therapy to the tune of at least P 10,500 every week. The medication would last for 6 months. Roughly, we’re looking at a whooping P 252,000 all in all.

Hearing this from her, my heart sank in dismay. In between the long dead air of our phone conversation, I could only venture questions. I could not recall if I was able to offer consolation. That was the first time in my life that I felt so hopeless and helpless.

In my prayers, I found myself confronting God, asking Him what He exactly wanted from me. I remember telling Him that the situation would have been different if I were out of the novitiate. I could easily provide for the cost of her medication.

Then there was silence. No answer came. At least, not at that moment. For I would realize how God seemed to have arranged things to fall in their proper places.

Fast forward to this day, I always feel goose bumps rising whenever my mom would share with me the journey of healing she has undergone and how that situation would not only lead her to giving importance to her physical health, but more importantly, how it has directed her to forge a stronger relationship with her Creator.

I marvel at how God seems to have sheltered her and our family as the cost of her therapy went through without us shelling out even a centavo for it. Her officemates would tell her that she is fortunate to have a seminarian-son. But I was quick to point out to her that it’s not about me.

Mama is a devotee of the Perpetual Help. On Wednesdays, we would expect her to come home late from work because she faithfully goes to Baclaran for the novena. I strongly believe that this devotion has not been fruitless.

Last July 16, she went to the National Kidney Institute for her last medical treatment. Incidentally, that was also the feast of our Lady of Mt. Carmel. As Mary rushed to her cousin Elizabeth, Mama could have used the very words of Elizabeth: "Why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me?" (cf. Luke 1:43).

I have a confession to make. I find it mushy when people talk about Mary and attribute to her miraculous works—both great and small. I don’t have anything against it. Maybe because I am just not that type. But as a Salesian, I learnt that it is important to see how obvious it is that the Blessed Mother is always our good mother (cf. Vol. VIII BM).

This event in my Mama’s life has led me to open my eyes and heart to such a reality.