Practicing faith
I grew up going to Church regularly. I wasn’t really religious-religious (I didn’t memorize any novenas or anything; and I didn’t keep any vows to, say, visit this so and so church or complete the how-many-numbers-of-nights of the misa de gallo), but I had faith, and I believed in trying to be good. My parents raised us to be always conscious of other people: to not be a burden to anyone; to not be inconsiderate; and if possible, to try to help people not so much because we would get anything out of helping people, but because, well, it was a way of practicing faith.
To be truthful, though I was raised Catholic, my dad kept teaching me about Islam and how the Muslims live their faith; and how different the objective of the Muslim faith was from that of Catholics.
It was sad that many Catholics, he said, were mostly out to save their own souls; and saving others was considered the main ticket to heaven. That there’s always an ulterior motive to doing good. Dad said that other faiths, like Islam and protestantism paid attention not so much to what will happen in the afterlife and what one must do to make sure that the afterlife doesn’t mean perpetual roasting in hell; but how to make sure that the religious life one has is lived with focus on making the current situation better. Religion, faith, and practicing either or both were separate things and they didn’t automatically come together, he said.
Anyways.
When I became activist, I became more interested in the Aglipayan church because in history classes it was taught that Gregorio Aglipay, the church’s founder, was one of the pillars of the anti-colonial revolutionary movement and the Katipunan.
I did research and wrote an article once for the Collegian on liberation theology, and I learned more about how the IFI teaches its members about Philippine history and current events; and analyzes the problems that beset Philippine society and thus, how important it is to have a living, breathing faith that one must live out and practice in humble service to society.
I spent my birthday today in a march condemning the brutal slaying of IFI Supreme Bishop Alberto Ramento.
It has been truly heartbreaking and at the same time most infuriating that this killer government has taken yet another life of a man of the cloth; one of those who truly practice their faith without consideration for their ownselves and their own comforts. Bishop Ramento, like other activist priests, lived humbly but did great things. He lived with and worked for the poor and exploited, and he spoke up against injustice. It was his way of practicing his faith — by truly serving others in the most concrete ways possible; not through plain charity or only through prayers, but by giving his time, presence, mind and body to the struggle of workers and peasants for better working and living conditions, for the recognition of their economic and political rights.
Paglilingkod ang pinaka-esensiya at ubod ng buhay na pananampalataya. Pagkiling sa interes ng mga inaapi at pinagsasamantalahan, at pagtunggali at paglaban sa mga nang-aapi at nagsasamantala. Hindi lang sa pamamagitan ng panalangin o pagbigay ng limos, kundi ang aktwal na mahigpit na pakikiisa at pakikisalamuha sa mga pinagnanaisang bigyan ng spiritwal na gabay.
The elements of the Western Police District didn’t allow the march to proceed further than Liwasang Bonifacio. The original intent was to march towards Menidola and hold a program at the foot of the historic bridge. The protest was led by the leaders of the IFI — still grieving, still walking wounded from the loss of their beloved Supreme Bishop, brother, father, friend and comrade; but it didn’t matter to the police.
There was a brief and violent scuffle when the police tried to break the ranks of the marchers (most of whom were members of the IFI, ordinary folk from various congregations in Manila, Southern Tagalog and Central Luzon). They tried to push the priests back (all the while the police were saying that the priests weren’t real priests because they weren’t Catholic, I heard), and one stupid hothead manhandled one of the priests and tore his stole in two.
As could be expected, there was massive indignation. The leaders, to prevent the outbreak of worse violence, opted to direct the march towards Liwasang Bonifacio and hold the program there instead.
The IFI priests all gave such heartrendering speeches. They spoke of what love of God truly meant: serving others, uniting with their daily struggles, helping them defend themselves and their rights. God, they said, meant for the faithful to live and work for others, even if it meant dying for them.
It was not enough, they said, that we pray; it was important that we take action to supplement our prayers.
Even the prayers were not pleas; they were calls to action. The prayers called on those hearing them to not be deaf and blind to social injustice and inequality; the prayers were meant to strengthen those who uttered them.
Nananalangin ako para sa kapayaan ng aking bayan; para sa kaligtasan ng aking mamamayan; para sa pagwawakas ng kawalan ng katarungan; para sa kapayapaang nakabatay sa hustisya; para sa pagkakaisang nakabatay sa pagkakapantay-pantay at kawalan ng pagsasamantala.
Ipinagdadasal ko na magwakas ang kadiliman sa aking lipunan; na maparusahan ang mga nagkakasala sa pamahalaan at silang mga pumapaslang sa mga inosente’t nagtataggol sa mamamayan. Hinihingi ko sa Diyos ng Kasaysayan at sa Diyos na kumikiling sa mahihirap at inaapi na dinggin ang panalangin ng bayan. Panalangin ito para sa akin at para sa bawat isang Pilipino; para sa pagtataguyod ng isang gobyernong marunong kumilala at gumalang sa karapatang pantao at karapatang sibil at demokratiko. Panalangin ito para sa tagumpay ng pakikibaka ng sambayanan para isang lipunan kung saan may hustisya, tunay na demokrasya, at kapayapaan. Amen.
