Radio apostolate

Every third Sunday, for the past five months now, I slip away from our community to go to Makati for the radio broadcast.

I cannot thank Fr. Gerry enough and the rest of the confreres for the go signal and the support they have given me to pursue this media apostolate. Despite the fact that agreeing for me to be there means I would not be here.

I love to teach, and I consider the classroom as my rightful place in the congregation. It's where, I think, I'll be most productive, it's there that I'll be most maximized by the province.

But communication is my first love. and so far, my experience of being in the radio can be summarized into three words: I am learning.

Br. Jomar would tease me for being so silent most of the time on air. because I feel intimidated being in the midst of seasoned broadcast professionals.

Coming back to the community after each broadcast, I bring home that enixhing experience of not just being able to learn how to operate the console when a commercial needs to be played, or how to modulate my voice so that it becomes more pleasing to the listeners, but being able to learn some insights from my co-hosts and from the listeners who interact with us a well.

I hope that your stint in the seminary does not only give you the obvious skills that we want you to have: to play an instrument, to have a deeper relationship with the Lord, etc. but also, those which are subtle and hidden skills which could only made surface through insight and reflection.

Long Sunday

I Just gave a recollection to a group of young people from my place of apostolate (bunggo). after the recollection, we also had the swimming. Fr. Louie of the school community kindly allowed us to use it for free. It's the last Sunday of the month (traditionally, last Sunday is a visiting day in the seminary), but instead of welcoming my mom to have that tasteful tete-a-tete, I gave all my time to this bunch of kids.

But strangely, no regrets. I am happy.

Credible Witnessing

Allow me to do some confessions. When I was told that I would be deployed to work in some of the chapels of Mayapa parish, I (secretly) resisted the idea. Deep in my heart, I just wanted to stay in the parish every Sunday afternoon for our apostolate. Let me enumerate three reasons why:

1. The parish is a lot closer to Canlubang, compared to Bunggo which is about 30 minute drive from the seminary.

2. I have struck some wholesome meaningful relationships with some of the young people of Mayapa and it’s just so difficult to leave them.

3. I’ll be missing some hours of my precious free time! (I spend only two hours in Mayapa versus almost four hours in the barrios)

But being a good young Salesian I try to become, I shrugged these reasons off my head and followed the instructions. Off to the barrios I went.

The idyllic ambiance of the countryside scene made a deep impression in me. “What a consolation!” I mumbled. When we reached the Busil chapel (I would realize that Busil stands for Bunggo Silangan!)a different environment welcomed me.

The chapel was filled with so much activities. Outside the church, a catechist was teaching a pack of children who were seated on monoblock chairs.

Inside, the legionaries were having an interactive Bible sharing session. The lady in front kept on asking the other participants a barrage of questions about the Gospel passage they have just read. At the side of the chapel, a group of adolescent girls clad in blue silky robes was also busy meeting.

I was told that the chapel in the barrios do not have a regular Mass. It is fortunate if a chapel gets to be visited by a priest in a month. But more often than not, it is the lay ministers who usually preside the celebration. The first time I was able to attend one, the lay minister who led the celebration earned my admiration. Not only was he good in distributing the Sacred Host to the people, his way of dissecting the Word of God to the community was by far above average.

After the liturgical service, I commended him for such feat. He coyly responded that the parish distributes the homily text to the ministers on a weekly basis. But they have to read it first and then internalize it before finally presenting it to the community. He added that it was good that the parish sent the homily some days earlier so that he had much time to prepare himself so that he could deliver it efficiently.

This made me thinking. For a religious like me, I find it arduous to prepare for my catechism lessons, make my class interesting, and whatnot. But I told myself, almost ragingly, “this is my life!” And this lay person before me has chosen a life far different from mine. He has his own family to take care of, and other some ‘secular’ affairs to attend to. But despite these, he still manages to squeeze in his time the ministry of bringing Christ to the people.

No wonder, even in the absence of the priests to celebrate the Mass, the people still flock to the chapels for their weekly obligation. At one point, the lay ministers ganged up on me to go with one of them in doing apostolate in one of the chapels to assist him in distributing the sacred Bread since the loads of Mass-goers makes his arms weary.

I am inspired encountering him and the other lay ministers who religiously attend to their weekly ministry and take the task upon themselves to make Christ known and be received by the townspeople who don’t have the means to go to the parish. The Gospel message lives in their hearts (cf. GDC 105), whence, they find the need to share it with the others.

Not merely by preaching, but by being credible witnesses.

Apostolate in Caritas Don Bosco

I was in Caritas Don Bosco yesterday. The four of us go there every Friday for our weekly ministry. I handle the high school students belonging to the Knights of the Altar (KOA) group. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically an organization of young boys who serve at the Mass. I don’t know if I wrote something last year about my apostolate, but it’s the same group which I handled when I was in Cebu for my novitiate.

Anyway, this group is different because it’s parish based. And it’s a new thing for me since I don’t call the shots. The teachers there are the main animators; we only come to lend some help. And since the group since running smoothly without any inputs from me, I get to enjoy the perspective of how it is to be an ‘outsider’ inside. I felt like I was more of an observer, which is quite cool because I get to know the members informally, since I am not considered to be in the leadership.

Now, yesterday was rather different. For one, I got some new names of members in my head, and had some good time with the familiar ones like James and Higy (I’m not sure if I got his name correctly). And then, another reason was the activity they were in was rather light, or so I thought. I saw Sir Allan, the KOA animator, scribbling some questions on the board. The questions pertain to the experiences the members have about the group (something like, how long have they been in the KOA, experiences of joy and even challenging ones, etc.). I would know later on that they’re meant for sharing. But instead of dividing the group into smaller ones, those who would be called would be sharing in the assembly (something you could see in the photo I pasted here).

He called the senior members of the group to start the ball rolling. And then, I was in for a big surprise. I was part of those would be sharing!

Christmas cards

We went to Tabunoc Night High School last night to animate the Mass.

We teach catechism in that school every Wednesday afternoon. On first Wednesdays, in lieu of our catechesis, Fr. Wilbert joins us to celebrate the Mass with the students and staff of the school.

Some thoughtful students were not contented in greeting us advance “merry Christmas” greetings. They even gave us Christmas cards. I scanned some of the cards I received from them.

I am moved by this thoughtful gesture of my students. I've been teaching catechism for about five years now, but this is the first time that I got cards from my charges.

I'm not sure if they were required to make a card as a project. But the cards were really cute.

They were done not only with thoughtfulness but with a great skill. There was a careful and elaborate cutting of papers in various sizes, sticking tiny beads on the card and producing a Christmas card that couldn't be found in the shelves of National Bookstore because they are priceless.

A trip with the Basketeers

I was out today with the members of the basketball club. I joined them for their hike in a place called Jaclupan. Going there, we passed by Manipis. Last Monday, we went there (Manipis) for biking, we stopped when we reached the water reservoir of the Metro Cebu Water District (MCWD). Riding the bicycle, I was fascinated with the greenery and all the while, I was thinking why the place got its name. The road was not manipis (narrow). But aboard the bus, I realized how narrow the highway is. It deserves its name after all.

The hike this afternoon was a good 20 minutes. Along the way, Mother Nature never failed to impress upon me her dazzling beauty. The weather wasn't good. It was drizzling when we arrived, but it did not dampen altogether our spirits, and my flair for taking pictures. One kid even asked me "brodz, is your camera water proof?" "Well, it's not. But my need to capture this beauty is greater than my camera" I told myself. To the thoughtful lad I flashed a coy smile as I click on the shutter anew.

We had to stop for a while Mundoy was counting the money. The cave has an entrance fee of P 10 per head, which puzzled me. I've been to the majestic cave of Sagada and the historical Pamitingan cave in Montalban, and I did not have to shell out even a single peso before allowed entrance.

I would soon realize that the "management" has paved some of the stairs and installed electric bulb inside the cave. Such enterprising spirit!

Tons of picture were uploaded in my multiply account!

Questions enlighten

Seldom that I get questions that strike me. Definitely not the brand of questions fielded to students in school to test their mastery of subject. I'm referring to the questions that make one really stop one's doing or drop one's thing in order to give consideration to the question being asked—even if grades are not at stake.

I encountered such brand of questions in my trip with the KOA last Sunday.

The question came from the most senior of KOA. He's past the retirement age already and I still have to see him serve at the altar (see my post on 11/04).He seems to be busy himself with other stuff apart from the regular load of requirements from school.

We're nibbling away some junk food in the cottage when without batting an eyelash, he asked me if it's okay to still remain a sacristan even if one has committed a "mortal sin" (he didn't use the phrase enclosed in the quotes, I provided them).

I was taken a back. I didn't know that such a question was coming.

Gently downplaying the seriousness of the sin (after all, God is merciful. Being a sinner myself, I support the thesis of the preeminence of love over law) I told him that yes, it's still possible. However, one needs to be sorry about it, one's being sorry about the offense committed should push him to see a priest and confess to him the sin. And finally, one ought not to repeat it once more.

I admit that I was not confident enough with how I responded to his question, I was not sure also if I drove home the point. But one thing I’m certain of is that his question will become an inspiration for me to not treat my formation complacently.

Holiness through the Preventive System

My first brush with the Preventive System wasn't pleasant enough.

I recall that it was the first day of the school year in the high school department of Don Bosco Canlubang. And I was a novice teacher.

Some minutes before the time, I marched to the designated classroom. From the window, I saw a student standing outside. His body language revealed to me that he wanted to enter the room. And because of my wanting to build a positive rapport, I motioned him to enter. After politely saying thank you, he silently sat down. Soon, his classmates came. And seeing him comfortably seated, they followed suit, they all entered the room. I was puzzled because they seemed to be chuckling, betraying that familiar demeanor of "Bosconian naughtiness."

I knew the reason why when the bell finally rang. The rest of the high school students silently formed their line just outside their respective rooms—except mine.

It dawned on me that it is one of the rules for the students to form first their line outside and when they showed their readiness—manifested by their silence—they are led inside their respective rooms.

That encounter was a humiliating experience but it taught me a lesson. Apart from the subject I need to discuss with my students, I should uphold the rules of the school. There must have some reasons why they are there. I told myself that my not studying from a Don Bosco school in high school is not a sin but my ignorance of the rule of the school is.

In that booklet penned by Don Bosco himself, he described the Preventive System by "making the prescriptions and regulations of an Institute known and then watching in such a way that the pupils have continually the vigilant eye of the Director or of assistants on them."

I read from somewhere that in the realm of the Preventive System, Presence is the most clear and brilliant manifestation that the System is at work. But citing that personal anecdote above, it shouldn't be only mere presence.

In his scholarly book entitled Don Bosco's Pedagogical Experience, Braido emphasized that the three components of Preventive System—reason, religion and loving kindness—are constantly present and reacting to each other to give the system a solid methodological unity.

My experience every Sunday in our own Youth Center has gained for me some valuable insights on the Preventive System. You see, my knowledge of the Cebuano language is meager. And fielding me to give formation and assistance to young people ranging from early teens to early adults wasn't really much of a breeze. It was unimaginable. I felt so miserable.

But the Preventive System allowed me to resort to a different kind of language that is well understood by young. I doubt if they can accurately define what Preventive System is, but one example tells me that they can feel that Prevent System is at work.

One Sunday afternoon, I was suddenly thrust into the role of King Solomon when a crying little boy from the basketball club came to me and told me that a bigger boy punched him. I went to the 'culprit' and with an attempt to speak broken Cebuano, I figured out the reason why. They were arguing about whether the name of the male genital organ printed in the textbook of the little boy was obscene or not. They debated over it until the bigger kid couldn't resist showing that he is correct by showing the little boy his 'might.'

I must have consumed all the Cebuano vocabulary I know of to inquire further—and to hide my amusement. After the long series of questions, the bigger kid realized that what he did wasn't right. Apologies were in order, I told him. And he sheepishly extended his hand to the smaller boy.

Sure thing, the best boys of Don Bosco in the person of Savio, Magone and Bessuco—all products of the Preventive System—may now only be found in the hagiography section of our libraries. But in the midst of our youth centers, schools, seminaries, and the like, I am positive that we still have so much young people waiting to be tapped, to be guided, towards that beautiful path of sanctity.

Don Bosco did not merely leave us an empty challenge "to become Saints." With the Preventive System, he made sure we will really become one.

Trip with the KOA

For five months now, our apostolate in Camella subdivision has been like a foretaste of how it is to be in the real field of apostolate. Noble (my classmate, he’s from Pakistan) and I go to the multi-purpose hall (now converted into a chapel) of the subdivision for our Mass every first and third Sundays of the month. We meet the Knights of the Altar (KOA) after the Mass, give them some formative talks, and play with them in the available basketball courts of the subdivision.

At times, we also invite them to go for a hike, as we need also to “visit” another place of apostolate in the hilly place of Maghaway.

As I think about it, my experience with the KOA boys has also been as such, a foretaste, a patikim. After remembering the boys by their faces and associating these by their first names, my memory bank doesn’t offer any other piece of information about them, except for the schools of some and a couple of sports and video games where they excel at. Nothing else.

I realized that the apostolate may just be a preview of what is yet to happen (A stage of our formation in the Salesians is called practical training: it comprises years of immersion in the field of working with and for the youth in schools, youth centers, and various settings that provide us opportunities to apply the many inputs we’ve gained about youth ministry. After all, Salesians exist to cater to the young) but the experience of what is it to be in the midst of the young should not also limit me in my dealing with them due to this excuse: ‘I only meet them twice a month anyway.’

This realization has pushed me to think out of the box.

Last month, I inquired about how we’ll be able to attract more members. The number of members has not grown much since we came last June. And to make things worst, some of them are already in the age of 16 years old, a retirement age.

And so, I asked Robert (a KOA in the subdivision who also studies in a Don Bosco school) to lay out posters that may appeal to prospective members. I also asked him to draft an announcement that will be read during the Mass. I don’t know if he did them. I have been to the chapel twice already since that meeting, but I still have to see the poster.

Anyway, somebody floated the idea of an outing (I don’t know how to connect this with the idea of advertisement). The greater majority seemed to have liked it. Without me knowing it, I found myself asking them about the possible date, the details of the trip (esp. the food to bring and who would bring them) and the amount of money we need to collect for the trip.

I promised them that we’ll push through with the trip, come hell and high water.