For seven years – 1975 to 1982 – I lived as a Catholic Missionary Priest in the Bicol provinces of the Philippines, working almost exclusively in the smaller towns and barrios. As time progressed, I was confronted in an ever-deepening way by the poverty and injustice experienced by the people I lived among in these rural areas. This became a radical challenge to my faith: in a predominately Christian country how could it happen that life was so cheap and living such a burden?
In July 1982 I was re-assigned to Manila, living in the metropolis of Cubao which even then boasted of a megamall-type shopping centre. The week before Christmas I was outside Ali-Mall and was stunned to witness the demolition of an Urban Poor Area, colloquially referred to as a squatter colony. After my seven years in Bicol, I was no stranger to social violence, but this was a different confrontation. A team of men literally tore these flimsy structures apart and threw the pieces onto the dump truck, amid the screams and cries of mothers, dirty children afoot and babies in their arms, their meagre possessions laid open to the vulgar gaze of passers-by, while two motorcycle cops in high leather boots sat on their machines, smoking and laughing all the while.
At later times I would come to learn the how and why of such common events, legal ramifications, causes and effects etc, etc. But at that moment I could only see the violence of families being trashed, some twenty meters across the road, while the Christmas lights and nativity scenes flashed brightly behind me in the windows of Ali-Mall.
Faith challenged radically. Again. And again. How could it happen that life was so cheap and living such a burden?
SPLINTERS OF FEAR
Across a shattered sea of broken human dreams
And hopes of days to come lost
In the smell and heat of a demolished yesterday
When they smashed down my door
Through which I hate to pass and yet I hate
Being locked inside
Enclosed shut in
And also shut of my own life
My center of dignity
Hear my silent scream of pain
My foes encircle me with deadly intent (Ps 17:10)
The machines come closer
Run through my brain
With the clamour of their guile and
Teeth of destruction
Tear at my life like wild dogs
Weigh upon my spirit like lead
And drag me down, down, down
Into the dark depths
The waves of death rose about me
The torrents of destruction assailed me
The snares of the grave entangled me
The traps of death confronted me (Ps 18:4-5)
Sing not to me of reindeer and snow
Gift me not with holly and tinsel and
Lights twinkling pretty
Sell me not Santa Claus and Christmas cheer
On the aching acre of my life
Sell me not!
But sing with me a song of freedom
Oh, that I could fly like a bird
To its mountain (Ps 11:1)
Once born of the virgin
Christ is now being reborn
In the womb of that suffering
Listen to this cry of pain
As creation groans in the anguish
Of giving birth to Emmanuel
God with his people to set them free
Will we be there
Will we care
Let us seek out this new manger
Let us travel together to this new Bethlehem
December 1982
Upon witnessing the enforced demolition of an Urban Poor Area
Will we ever have enough peace on earth? Will we ever enough people of good will to bring peace to our troubled world?
The hope and belief in a better, safer, more just world seems more like a dream of youthful enthusiasm than a possible reality in this world.
Power and the wealth that accompanies it, like the powerless poor, will always be the story of the human race. If Jesus left this world by way of a cross what chance do we have of effecting change in the balance of power. YET each one of us has the power to heal and be healed , to love and be loved and to leave this planet in peace.
Hope this is not too long but it is how your story affected my reflection on life.
Indeed Veronica, the greatest challenge we personally face is the challenge to hope: to continue believing in the goodness of the other, to still yearn for a bright future for our grandchildren (as in, believe such a bright future is possible) and to leave this earth believing it is in a better state then it was when we arrived in it. I have heard grandparents comforting themselves that they will not have to face the specter of the future that belongs as inheritance to their grandchildren. I refuse to stand in that space. History does show the unimaginable horror wrought upon the world by us humans who are custodians of the world. Yet is also shows the magnificence of the human spirit in endeavors of goodness and creativity as well as unexpected resilience in the face of darkness.
Thank you for your reflection; long may we live in hope!