In God we trust (and also in stocks)

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

Vintage Bo Sanchez discourse: 

“Why is Facebook so big today? 

“Because deep in our hearts, our most basic need, found in our DNA, written in our genetic code, is the need to belong to a community, a friendship, a network, a club, a family. 

“Forgive me for being flat-out corny, downright mushy, but whether you know it or not, whether you admit it or not, you have a desperate need for LOVE. 

“You were born with it. 

“Everybody has it. 

“Male or female, you need love.” 

So why do people follow him on Facebook, in public events and in various media through his blogs, books and other publications? Why do thousands here and abroad listen to his preaching and follow his advice on how to pray, how to love God and neighbor, make things work and live happy, progressive and successful lives? 

The answer is simple: Sanchez says things simply and makes them look and sound easy. And most of all, he shows us why something-like making money, for example-could be good and godly. 

For “If God is with us, who can be against us?” 

Eugenio Isabelo Tomas Reyes Sanchez, a.k.a. Bo Sanchez “the preacher in blue jeans,” is not the fire-and-brimstone kind of preacher who shakes the ramparts to mesmerize followers. Unlike many breast-thumping Bible-quoters, he does not try to impress his audience by rattling off Biblical verses and scriptural passages from memory.  For him, one or two verses could be enough to fill a Feast. 

Bo’s own personal life could explain how the guy can speak to everyone like he finds God in their most mundane everyday concerns. 

Born on July 11, 1966 in Caloocan City to Eugenio and Pilar Sanchez, Bo is the youngest and only boy in a brood of six. He recalls with great humor how he was “the most ungifted kid in the whole wide world.” He was poor in math, among other things. But at a young age he opened himself to grace.

In his easy-to-read “My Conspiracy Theory: A Brief Autobiography at the Middle of my Life” Bo begins: “I wrote my first book at age 20. I led the first prayer meeting of the Light of Jesus Family at age 14. I began preaching at age 13. I had my conversion at age 12. I was toilet trained at age 1, but that has nothing to do with this book.”

It is amazing how Bo has been able to sum up his life story into a booklet of 97 pages. “Chapter 1: My Childhood: Being the Most Ungifted Kid in the Whole Wide World” is as hilarious as it is heart-tugging. “Chapter 2: My Conversion—How God Became More Real Than the President” is just as interesting.

But the whole point of his autobiography is his warning “that there is a conspiracy of grace at work in this universe and heaven is scheming to bless your life.”


Now 46, Bo has been married to Marowe for 14 years and has two sons, Benedict and Francis.  He is the author of 25 books, many of them best-sellers-that are inexpensive, easy to read and understand inspirational and how-to books. The preacher, Catholic lay evangelist and entrepreneur was named one of the Ten Outstanding Young Men (TOYM) in 2006.

“We now have 110 small Light of Jesus (LOJ) communities all over the world,” he delights in saying. “We want to have more Feasts all over.”

The Feasts are regular weekend gatherings that begin with a Mass, followed by inspired preaching and other sharing activities. Bo visits each LOJ group every chance he gets. LOJ Feasts are held in such diverse places as the US, Canada, Vietnam, Singapore, Indonesia, Qatar, United Arab Emirates, Australia and Hong Kong.

The founder of a spiritual movement and several charity institutions is careful to separate his spiritual life from the material, and is scrupulous about donations.

“I have been told to get an allowance like our other preachers but I declined,” he says. Contributions go directly to LOJ activities and projects such as the Feasts and their venues, two orphanages, a home for pregnant women in crisis, and Anawim, a home for the poor elderly, some of them abandoned. In Metro Manila, the Sunday Feasts are held at the Philippine International Convention Center.

Sunday Inquirer Magazine visited and featured Anawim, a sprawling haven of rest located in Rodriguez (Montalban), Rizal, some years back. Generous donors have made Anawim flourish to a point that the LOJ is planning to put up spiritual retreat facilities there, Bo reveals.

But Bo has no qualms about being in media.  “Media for the Soul” is LOJ’s foray into broadcast media, with Kerygma TV on IBC 13 and TV Maria, the Archdiocese of Manila’s cable channel.  There is also Gabay sa Bibliya sa Radyo on Veritas 846, Nakita Ko, Mustard TV and Inside the Fish Bowl, also on TV Maria.

LOJ’s Shepherd’s Voice Publications publishes K-FAM-Kerygma, a Catholic inspirational magazine, Fish (“the zany side of loving God”), All Stars and Mustard (“sowing seeds of fun and faith”)—all very youth oriented.

On the personal side, Bo has his home schooling project (with 200 enrollees), his books and other business investments. He also lectures on how to make money in the stock market. His book “My Maid Invests in the Stock Market and Why You Should Too” is the number 3 best-seller in National Bookstore’s Top 10, and can now be downloaded for free as an e-book (trulyrichclub.com).

He sees no contradiction between his good deeds and his business savvy.  “Do you think the stock market is for billionaires only? A lot of people think that way,” he says.

“I teach people how to be wealthy over time,” he adds, referring to his “How to Make Millions Through the Stock Market” seminar (see sidebar) that, he says, is not a get-rich quick scheme. Many people lose money in stocks, “but if you follow the specific investing method that I will teach you, you’ll be able to create your millions for your future.”

Misery and poverty, he says, should not be our lot. It should not be a choice between being poor and being corrupt. For Bo, there is such a thing as “holy money” just as there is “holy sex.” All for the glory of God.

So how did he come to this?

When he turned 30, Bo decided to plot his life’s direction.  He was an experienced preacher by then and joining the priesthood was an option. “I finished Philosophy at the Ateneo,” he says, adding that it was some kind of preparation in case this vocation was for him.

But, he adds. “It became clear that I should remain a lay (person). Priests focus on the spiritual. As a lay person I could show people how to be good Catholics in the world.”

Summing up his goal, he says, “I want to speak to the un-churched.”

Having decided that, Bo found himself falling in love with Marowe who was with the LOJ staff. Marriage and family, he realized, were indeed for him.

Looking at this happily fulfilled husband and father, one can easily forget that he had experienced sexual abuse as a child. It is something that he has mentioned a few times in his preaching to convince people that there is hope for healing, and that a person should not wallow in victimhood but instead strive to be happy.

But Bo does not rely mainly on personal experiences for his preaching. “I do research, I read books. I write down everything that I intend to say and this may take several hours. Then when I am out there preaching, I do not carry notes.” 

His life story is proof that “Grace happens every day,” he says. “Open yourself to extreme, excessive, extravagant grace.” 

If that’s not enough inspiration for you, you can get more of God’s “unique, inspiring, powerful, personalized message everyday” by signing up at www.GodWhispersClub.com. •


Four Rules for Getting Rich 

Brother Bo Sanchez never tires of quoting Proverbs 21:20 in the Bible: “Precious treasure remains in the house of the wise, but the fool consumes it.” 

Definitely no fools are Bo’s maids—Gina, Weng and Maricel—who have invested in the stock market and have since watched their investments grow. Hearing them rave about their earnings, Bo’s skeptical driver bought stocks as well and is now convinced that his boss’ “The Truly Rich Club” is for real.

The four helpers’ good fortune is an affirmation of Bo’s belief that everyone ought to be rich-not only spiritually, but also materially. And the Catholic preacher in blue jeans unabashedly tells one and all that there is a right way of doing it. For money is not evil; it could, in fact, bring much good.

Bo’s book “My Maid Invests in the Stock Market” is a runaway best-seller. Just as numerous as the readers of his books are the active participants in his regular weekend spiritual Feasts here and abroad.

Many of those who heeded Bo’s Bible-based spiritual exhortations are now as gung-ho about achieving material wealth, while those who were initially attracted to his talks on material prosperity have begun working on their spiritual lives as well.

But Bo does not only preach or write about material wealth; he actually shows people how to do it through well-attended seminars, where financial experts walk wide-eyed beginners through the step by step process of making millions.

Bo’s “How to Make Millions Through the Stock Market” seminar two weeks ago at the Philippine International Convention Center drew about a thousand participants.  Coaching them on the so-called easy investment plan (EIP) were experts from, and the head of, online stockbroker Col Financial.  A disclaimer from Bo: He is a believer of Col Financial, but does not work for it.

Not a get-rich scheme, the seminar was about investing “the right way to create your millions for the future.”   To do this would require discipline and resolve as wealth happens “over time,” the participants learned.

This is not about the frenzied buying and selling of stocks, nor gambling-style trading and hard-to-decipher figures and graphs, Bo said. It’s not about trading to make a fast buck but long-term investing; there is a world of a difference, he added.

Mid-lifers and senior citizens who listened to the talk are now asking: “Why didn’t anyone tell us about this when we were in our twenties or thirties?” Parents who put in and lost their money in educational plans that went pffft could very well ask the same question. But it’s not too late, if the financial coaches are to be believed.

The gospel of EIP is about investing in publicly-owned or Philippine Stock Exchange-listed companies, thus participating in their growth and earnings. The investor makes money through price appreciation and dividends. Investing this way is a hedge against inflation.

At the seminar, one learned new terms and stock market jargon like peso cost averaging and strategic average method, current price, buy below price and target price. Presented were four rules in making money through EIP in the stock market, or ways to accumulate, upon retirement, P10 million (or much more) that one cannot earn through one’s savings in the bank.

Here are the four rules to getting rich through the EIP:

1. Invest small amounts (P1,000 and up) at regular times (say, weekly , monthly, or quarterly) without fail for 20 years or more.
2. Invest even when there is a crisis.
3. Invest only in giants.
4. Invest in a number of giants.

Other tips to remember: Never sell for 20 years, just keep on buying. You can sell at a certain point, but buy below price.

Perhaps one of the best things about this EIP investing scheme-for both the young once and the young ones-is that they can do it online. But one needs to be computer literate to navigate the online platform. (Visit www.colfinancial.com.) One can also do it on one’s feet, minus the computer. Bo’s www.trulyrichclub.com provides regular stock updates, suggestions and, of course, inspirational messages.

As the preacher has stressed again and again, the goal isn’t to become multimillionaires. “As I teach (people) to build their financial wealth, I also teach them to build their spiritual wealth. They need to grow in their character to handle big money, or it will destroy them. I remind them that the purpose of wealth is to love others. Use your wealth to serve God,” Bo said. CPD

Bo Sanchez is inviting the public to the Kerygma Conference 2012, the biggest Catholic inspirational conference in the country. Now on its fifth year, the conference offers two whole days of inspiration with 14 streams to choose from on Nov. 24 and 25. This will be held at the SMX Convention Center at the Mall of Asia Arena in Pasay City. For tickets and inquiries, call 725-9999 or visit www.kerygmaconference.com

 

Better dead than read: The years of writing dangerously

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

I dig my files and clippings and I realize that this assignment is somewhat discomfiting. A flood of memories surges, tsunami-like. I feel the warmth of triumph and of freedom long-won, but also feel sadness over the loss of those I had met and known and written about.

It all began more than 30 years ago.

On July 10, 1980, my face was on the front page of Bulletin Today, the biggest newspaper at that time. The photo caption read: “Hearing: A magazine writer, Ma. Ceres Doyo, answers questions from Deputy Defense Minister Carmelo Barbero, chairman of the Armed Forces human rights committee, in connection with her article on the death of Bugnay chieftain Macli-ing. (Photo by) L. Perez.”

The caption was misleading. It was not a “hearing”; it was a public interrogation. What “human rights committee”?

SUICIDE JOURNALISM: The author being arrested by the Metrocom during martial law. Photo by Erik de Castro  

The article headline was simply, “MACLI-ING.” All caps. The blurb was also misleading: “Dismiss link between dam, tribesman slay.” The military was dismissing the link, not me. The byline on the news story? Ramon Tulfo.

Several national papers carried the story on my interrogation following my Macli-ing Dulag story that came out in the Panorama Magazine dated June 29, 1980. (With birthday girl Imelda Marcos on the cover.) The story about Macli-ing’s death and the subsequent investigations ran for days in the Marcos-controlled newspapers and in two foreign magazines. Letters to the editor and to me poured in.
HEAR THEM ROAR: Women’s rallies during the ML era that the author regularly covered (top and extreme right). Press censorship was documented in the book “The Philippine Press Under Siege” (right). (Photos by Ceres Doyo)

As a writer, that Camp Aguinaldo interrogation was my first high-profile brush with the military. A few years earlier, writer Chit Estella and I were seized by the Metrocom while we were transporting an anti-dictatorship publication, “Iron Hand, Velvet Glove,” for a church-based human rights group. It was night and I was driving a car full of “subversive” materials. The armed men released us upon the intercession of Sr. Mary Christine Tan, RGS.

For the Macli-ing story, I received the summons dated July 5, 1980 through Panorama editor Letty J. Magsanoc (now Inquirer editor in chief). Without batting an eyelash, she had published my story about the killing of Macli-ing Dulag, chief of the Butbut tribe in Kalinga-Apayao. She sure gave it a provocative title: “Was Macli-ing killed because he damned the Chico Dam?” Macli-ing led his tribe in opposing the construction of the Chico River dam. One night, armed men barged into his mountain home and pumped bullets into him.

With a group of church and human rights workers I went to Kalinga on a fact-finding mission. To get to Bugnay village we scaled hills and crossed the raging Chico River with the help of Kalinga braves in G-strings. In the home of Macli-ing, I saw the blood on the wall and ran my fingers on it. I listened to the people’s stories and took photographs. After that I don’t know what possessed me but I just sat down and wrote. I sent the story and trembled. A dam inside me had burst.

That was my first major feature article and it got me and my editor in trouble.

Before going to the interrogation I went to Sen. Jovito Salonga, a former martial law detainee. His advice: “Go.” He said it like a blessing. A horde of nuns and a very concerned aunt of mine went with me. They took down notes-the questions, my answers. (I still have those notes.)

A few months later, in January 1981, Pope John Paul II came for a visit. What do you know, he handed me the Catholic Mass Media Awards trophy for that Macli-ing story. He held my head with both palms. It was never the same after that. The writing continued. Magsanoc would call it “suicide journalism.”

The second interrogation was in 1982. There was this series of summons for, and interrogations of, women writers that went on for days. This time, the individual interrogations were held inside closed doors and the interrogators were high-ranking military officials-a general and several colonels (one of them a woman). There was food galore-and wine, too-but how could one eat while being cracked?

I was the first to be summoned to Fort Bonifacio. Next were Domini Torrevillas, Jo-Ann Maglipon, Lorna Kalaw-Tirol, Niñez Cacho-Olivares, Arlene Babst, Eugenia Apostol and Doris Nuyda. Torrevillas, Tirol and I (a freelancer) were writing for Panorama, the Sunday magazine of Bulletin Today. Olivares and Babst were Bulletin columnists. Apostol was the publisher, and Nuyda an editor, of Mr. & Ms. magazine. Obviously, the military and, it goes without saying, the Marcos dictatorship did not like what we were writing. (The Inquirer, began in December 1985, was not yet a gleam in Eggie Apostol’s eye.)

For several hours the military officers questioned me for my magazine stories on the military’s human rights abuses in Bataan and on rebel-priest Fr. Zacarias Agatep who was killed in an encounter with soldiers. The Macli-ing story was also brought up. I was giving the government a bad image, the interrogators said. Before the interrogation began, I had asked loudly and defiantly, with pen and paper in hand: “Please give me your names.” And they did.

We all emerged uncracked. Ah, the stories we narrated to one another. What did we-the women writers-do next? Having gotten all the interrogators’ names, we plotted in the dead of night and built a case against them with the help of the Flag and Mabini lawyers. We strode into a jampacked Supreme Court to question the so-called National Intelligence Board, a creation of the Marcos military dictatorship to cow writers. We won. The respondents said they were done with it anyway. Duuuh…

We were front-page news. Not long after, Panorama editor Torrevillas and I were each slapped a P10-million libel suit for my story on military abuses in Bataan, courtesy of a military general who was not even in Bataan at that time, I was told.

My lawyers: Saklolo Leano (Siguion-Reyna Law Offices), Flag and Mabini lawyers Joker Arroyo, Rene Saguisag, Fulgencio Factoran, Jejomar Binay, Antonio Rosales, Augusto Sanchez, Lorenzo Tanada. The same ones who marched with us to the Supreme Court. At the preliminary investigation, Arroyo and Saguisag exchanged barbs with the fiscal nicknamed Joe Flame (Jose Flaminiano) who proceeded to file the case because he had to. (The case was dropped after the People Power uprising and Cory Aquino rose to the presidency.)

But there were other writers and stories similarly treated but which were not widely known and documented. So in 1984 and 1985, a group of us came up with two volumes-”The Philippine Press Under Siege,” volumes 1 and 2, that contained “dangerous writing,” stories that provoked the dictatorship-and their aftermath. It was published by the Committee to Protect Writers of the National Press Club under the bold leadership of the late Tony Nieva. Leonor Aureus-Briscoe edited Vol. 2. Transcripts of my two interrogations (from notes and memory) are in volume 2.

From the editors’ note in volume 1: “Together, (these stories) show the kind of ’dangerous writing’ that has brought about the forced resignation, firing, blacklisting, arrest or detention of journalists, the padlocking or sequestering of a newspaper’s printing plant and equipment, and the filing of multi-million peso libel suits or subversive charges against writers, editors and publishers.

“What constitutes ’dangerous writing’ these days? Perhaps this volume can shed some light on this question. Two articles… deal with the President. Six reports are on the growing militarization in the countryside. Two are about election fraud and two on the aftermath of the Aquino assassination.”

Of volume 2, Nieva wrote: “Better dead than read” may well have been the title of this book for its graphic documentation of the blood-and-sand state of a profession under siege, underlying the personal struggles and heartbreaks of the men and women of the Philippine press who now work under the shadow of death itself.”

(I am trying to get a publisher for the 2012 second edition—two books in one.)

Having been harassed for my writings, I joined the almost 10,000 individuals who filed a class suit against Ferdinand Marcos and his estate. In 2010, almost 25 years after the dictator’s downfall, the victims and survivors of martial law excesses finally got a trickle in the amount of $1,000 each from a newly discovered hidden/ill-gotten stash. We know there’s more where this came from. One thousand dollars—a measly sum for all the blood—and ink, in our case—that was poured, until and unless the other claimant, our democratic government, looks the other way.

Still and all, I say, what a great and sobering adventure it has been. Doing the stories gave me great times—of terror and joy and sadness and fun. As I always say, nobody told me it would be like this. •

Santa Rosa: From the enchanted kingdom to the enriching past

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

There is definitely more to Santa Rosa, Laguna than just being the much touted gateway to Calabarzon, that burgeoning industrial zone and magnet for investors that straddles the provinces of Cavite, Laguna, Batangas, Rizal and Quezon. Younger folk too can find much more to this town than just the giant ferris wheel of the Enchanted Kingdom.

Waiting to be explored is the old historic Santa Rosa that has been preserved through the years. It is guarded and celebrated by Rosenios whose lives have been touched by history and in whose veins run the blood of the freedom fighters of yesteryears. This once bucolic town in Laguna, now a chartered city (since 2004), is the place of their affections.

To experience and see Santa Rosa through their eyes one has to go past giant shopping malls and the gleaming techno-hubs that now occupy what might have been rice fields just a decade ago. One must look beyond new residential enclaves with storybook houses in ice cream colors, and take the old, narrow roads leading to the old market place, so to speak.

Built in 1877 and declared a historical marker in 2005, Cuartel de Santo Domingo could easily be a history buff’s delight. A written account in “Tristes Recuerdos” describes the Spanish-era adobe structure as an advance post of the Guardia Civiles meant to deter brigands from Cavite from entering Laguna, particularly the Dominican haciendas in Santa Rosa and Biñan. But it served other purposes, among them being a source of the Spanish offensive against Filipino forces under Gen. Emilio Aguinaldo.

Notes Nonia D. Tiongco, a Santa Rosa City historian and resident: “This mute sentinel challenges us to peer into the past, (for it) to be appreciated in the present and safeguarded as a legacy for all time. Cuartel de Santo Domingo evokes a quiet strength and historicity yet to be fully told, the steadfastness of whoever held the ground there.”

It does not take long for one to find the ruins and the “mute sentinels.” Have interest, will discover. Soon one walks on ancient ground littered with history and partakes of tales of battles, family secrets and even romance in the time of revolution. Then there are the turn-of-the century homes with scrumptious art noveau interiors, rare artifacts and photographs of scenes past.

The cuartel may not qualify as a monument to freedom but it stood as a challenge to the Philippine revolutionaries. And so the cuartel is now also proudly called-in poetic Tagalog—“Moog ng Katatagan, Yamang Mana ng Lahi na di Matatalikuran” (fortress of strength, the race’s rich heritage that cannot be forsaken). As in, it is now ours for all time.

The cuartel area covers more than eight hectares and is now used by the Philippine National Police for training. Convicted former president Joseph Estrada was briefly detained in a facility there.

If the Department of Tourism’s campaign come-on “There’s more fun in the Philippines” is to be seriously pursued, there should be fun, too, not just in the sights, sounds and the highly spirited people that this country is rightly proud of, but also in discovering something in the remains of the past. Santa Rosa, about two hours’ ride from Manila, is a good place to start.

Another prominent Santa Rosa landmark is the arco or bantayang bato (1931) said to be patterned by sculptor David Dia after Paris’ Arc de Triomphe.

Those interested in domestic elegance and how families of means lived in the days of yore could visit preserved and restored homes and marvel at the exquisite art noveau designs on walls and ceilings, the hard wood floorings, furniture and other collections on display.

One such house is the Almeda-Zaballa house of historian Tiongco’s ancestors. Its interiors could easily rival the antique homes in the heritage towns of Taal, Batangas and Vigan, Ilocos Sur. Old photographs hint at its occupants’ lifestyle and predilections in the 1800s and at the turn of the century. Examine the faces, Tiongco suggests, and proof of the Rizal lineage becomes readily apparent. “Lahat, tikwas ang labi (All have upturned lips),” the historian notes.

Don’t miss the Basilio Barroma Gonzales ancestral house. Or head for the Arambulo house to check out a facsimile of the “Acta de la Proclamacion de Independencia del Pueblo Filipino, Junio 12, 1898” (Act of Proclamation of Independence of the Filipino People), all of 19 pages. Gasp at the elegant script in which it was written and the discombobulating kilometric first sentence pledging allegiance to “el Egregio Dictador de ellas Don Emilio Aguinaldo Fami” (the Egregious Dictator Don Emilio Aguinaldo y Famy). Affixed are more than 70 signatures, among them, Francisco Arambulo’s and seven others’ from Santa Rosa. (The Acta’s first page would make for a great T-shirt design.)

Not to be forgotten are the religious sites, among them, the parish church whose patroness, the Peruvian Santa Rosa de Lima is very much part of the lives of the Catholic populace. Here the Holy Week observance drips with color and drama. Just across the church is Santa Rosa Heritage Museum for more historical finds.

After all that heady historical stuff, be pedestrian enough and head for Bok Home-Made Ice Cream. Do a taste test and take home several half-gallons. Bok’s to-die-for concoctions have sent customers from far and near coming back again and again over the years. Only in Santa Rosa, they’d tell you.

Cool history buffs interested in the meeting of the old and the new would have fun in this town whose mayor, Arlene B. Arcillas, a relatively young executive, is making sure that this new city never forgets its glorious past.#

Bukid Kabataan: A place to be strong, to belong

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

The happy shrieks of children blend with the sonorous mooing of the cows. The striking green of the fields compete with the blueness of the sky. The patter of little feet, the chorus of voices in the classrooms, the rising of the nuns’ chanted prayers at eventide…

Space, quiet, fresh air, dew on the grass, good food, warm arms and the healing embrace of nature. But here above all, is the child, the child who needs to become whole again.

Bukid Kabataan Center (BK), which means children’s farm, is a special place, a home for children who have never known one or who had watched theirs fall apart. Here they slowly claim their stolen childhood, name their pain and bind their wounds with the help of caring adults.

The children vibrate with energy, laughter and songs. But behind the innocent eyes and carefree mien is deep pain that these children are helped to confront. There are bright moments and bad moments. There is a time to drink the sun and a time to weep oceans.

At 9, Melan (not her real name) had already decided for herself how to fix her life, step out of her trauma and move on. Raped repeatedly by her grandfather and ostracized by her family because she was going to make a case of it in court (with help from legal and social services), she found herself in a bind.

Then Melan made a dramatic bargain. She would not testify so that the case against her abuser would be dropped – but on condition that she would never be returned to her family or next of kin, and that her family should release her for legal adoption.

It took some time for Melan’s desire to come true. BK became Melan’s home and school for a couple of years while the adoption process was ongoing, which included matching, visitation, counseling and other legalities.

Melan’s adoptive family came to BK recently to finally take her with them to her new home abroad. She had eagerly waited for this moment to happen, and when it did, BK came alive. A child was on her way to healing, and most of all, to a home.

Considered a foundling, Jassie was about 6 when social workers brought her to BK. She remembers carrying a small bag with some clothes and going to a church with her father. Jassie’s father told her to wait there while he completed some errands. Night fell but Jassie’s father never returned.

A security guard took pity on Jassie and took her home. Every day for several days, the guard brought back Jassie to the church in the hope that her father would return. But he never did. Because he could not afford to take in a child, the guard put Jassie in the care of a family whom he thought would be caring enough. But things did not work out and Jassie again found herself abandoned on some wayside.

A young boy is repeatedly beaten up by his stepfather, a prepubescent girl is rescued from prostitution. The children’s stories about their young lives sound like they come straight out of a tearjerker telenovela, except that they are not a scriptwriter’s imaginings. They are real – and one can only gasp in shock.

Bukid Kabataan is a special ministry of the Religious of the Good Shepherd (RGS) that serves children who have been physically and sexually abused, neglected and abandoned. BK’s services are inspired by the charity and compassion of Jesus the Good Shepherd and are directed towards the healing and total development of both male and female children (aged 6 to 16 more or less).

The ministry looks after the physical, mental, emotional, social and spiritual well-being of those it serves so that they, despite their tortured past, may become enabled and productive members of society. The RGS’ work in BK is in line with the congregation’s thrust towards justice, peace and integrity of creation and special care for women.

Founded in France in 1835 by Saint Mary Euphrasia Pelletier, the Good Shepherd Sisters came to the Philippines in 1912. The mission of the RGS, one of the largest women’s congregations in the world, is “directed to the most neglected and marginalized, in whom the image of God is most obscure.”

BK had its beginnings in 1983 as the Morning Glory Program (MGP) of the Archdiocese of Manila/Caritas Manila and with Good Shepherd Sisters running it. The land on which the MGP set up its ministry was donated by Msgr. Francisco Tantoco, a priest of the Archdiocese of Manila. MGP and BK have since undergone several reorganizations until the Good Shepherd Sisters fully took over in 2000, with Sr. Mercy Ang, RGS at the helm. The Department of Social Welfare and Development then gave it accreditation as a residential child-caring institution.

In BK, children are provided not just food, shelter and clothing but also individual care, education and counseling/therapy. Values and a sense of family and community are inculcated in them. BK hopes to reconcile the children with their parents, but only after a proper home environment is ensured. For some children, however, there may be no homecoming ever.

Located in Sitio (sub-village) de Fuego, Barangay (village) San Francisco, General Trias, Cavite, BK is about two and a half hours’ drive from Manila. The spacious farm setting of 6.5 hectares makes it conducive to healing. Affluent adults have so-called spas for the soul, so why not something similar for poor, wounded children?

The words nature therapy or eco-therapy may have yet to make it big in psychology books and become mainstream, but it is already vicariously being experienced in BK even as empirical data on its efficacy have yet to come in.

Presently assigned in BK are three Good Shepherd Sisters. Sr. Gemma Dinglasan, RGS is superior and program director, while Sr. Myra Luna Atian, RGS and Sr. Erlin Bacol, RGS are residence coordinators. They are assisted by a team that consists of social workers (for case management, records, visits and counseling), house parents, teachers, household staff, farm workers, a driver as well as occasional volunteers.

BK offers elementary schooling from Grades 1 to 6 within the compound. A child is allowed a maximum stay of three years, but exceptional cases are given consideration. An after-care program, educational assistance and family counseling are provided for those who have moved on.

Sister Gemma says that the children take to gardening work without much prodding and head for the gardens after classes. Closely supervised by farm workers, they eagerly tend the plots and love to watch the seedlings grow. Harvesting gives them a thrill.

In BK are 17 big greenhouses built by the “Halaman sa mga Simbahan” program of the Department of Agriculture. Bishop Luis Tagle of the Diocese of Imus (Cavite) – who will be installed as Archbishop of Manila on December 12 – was instrumental in getting this done. Vegetables are grown organically, that is, without chemical fertilizers and pesticides. Organic fertilizers are produced right there and vermiculture (cultivating earthworms) is now in place. The farm produce provides BK with healthy meals and some income.

The children have become appreciative and protective of the natural environment. “One time,” Sr. Gemma recounts, “a child questioned the cutting of some trees. We had to explain the reason behind it and assure him that for every tree that was cut, a dozen or so were planted.”

At one time BK had more than 50 children in its care. Right now there are 39, still quite a handful if one considers the complexity of each case. They could test one’s patience and endurance. Tantrums and mischief are not rare. Sr. Gemma remembers the time she had to chase a bunch of them. Out of breath and not able to catch up, she blacked out and fell to the ground. When she came to she found herself surrounded by children weeping and cradling her in their arms. “They were saying, ‘Sister, sorry po, di na uulitin.’” Sr. Gemma laughs about it now.

“You can tell when it’s gagamba [spider] season,” Sr. Erlin chuckles, “you’d see them carrying around toothpaste boxes.”

But climbing trees is a no-no. Well, why not try the rooftop?

The sisters and staff know every trick in the book and are a step ahead of their wards. When things go awry, a friendly cop is called in to teach the kids that they can’t get away with fist fights. A punching bag is hung for those who need to express their rage. Regular group sessions are held to resolve conflicts or for the children to pick up gems from the Bible. One child had his own profound reflection on Jesus’ going away to rest.

In her years in BK, Sr. Gemma has not known of a child who has tried to escape. “Oh, they love it here,” the nuns say. For these women, the work is very difficult but rewarding.

And how does BK survive? Sister’s quick answer: by God’s providence. There is no steady source of funds (none from the government or foreign funders), but somehow BK continues to thrive on the kindness of low-key donors and even strangers. (Those interested to help can contact BK at tel. no. 046-5093009.)

For those who have issues with the Catholic Church or Christianity in general because of the failures and transgressions of its leaders, the quiet work of mercy and compassion in BK provides a different, more reassuring image of the Church.

“Pasasalamat ay alaala ng puso [Gratitude is the memory of the heart],” a popular saying from Sr. Mary Euphrasia, is now a line from a song that the children of BK often sing. It goes with the heart-rending refrain, “Pamilyang nawala, dito namin natagpuan (The family that we lost, we have found here).”

Their voices rise to a crescendo and their hearts cry out, “To be strong, to belong.” •

He sees dead people & they confess to him

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

At three o’clock in the morning, while the world sleeps, troubled souls rouse this priest to relay important messages or confess their sins so they can move on gently and finally to eternity. The otherworldly messengers include Navy officer Phillip Pestaño who came back to tell the world that his death was not a suicide as some officials would have us believe. Another group of souls gathered by the priest’s bedside and told him they were victims of the 2009 Maguindanao massacre.

The apparitions initially puzzled Fr. Efren Borromeo of the Society of Our Lady of the Trinity (SOLT). Affectionately called Fr. Momoy by Bicol folk, he thought it was just one of those things. “I was reluctant to recognize it,” he says. “I know saints have soul visitations, but I am not a saint!”

Ghostbuster, spirit questor or saint, the label doesn’t matter. People whose lives he has touched agree that Fr. Momoy has the gift of healing the sick and seeing souls. He also has the ability to see through human bodies and reveal with uncanny accuracy what ails those who consult him, just like the radiology method called MRI or magnetic resonance imaging.

Though not a medical doctor, Fr. Momoy has basic knowledge of the human anatomy and is in fact, on his way to becoming another kind of doctor. He is finishing his dissertation for a doctorate degree in cosmic anthropology at the Asian Social Institute in Manila.

His cosmic encounters do not scare him, Fr. Momoy confides. In fact, he considers them a nuisance. “I would ask, why do you have to come for confession? Why don’t you go direct to heaven? Nakakaistorbo kayo (You guys are a bother).” But the souls continue to turn up at all hours of day and night. “That’s why I can’t drive,” he says. “I see dead people.”

One group he couldn’t just ignore because of their sheer number showed up in the dead of night. “Who are you, why are you so many?” he had asked. They were, the apparitions answered, the victims of the Maguindanao massacre. (In that November 2009 tragedy, 58 people, most of them media practitioners were brutally killed and buried in shallow graves. The main suspects, the members of the Ampatuan political clan, are now in jail and on trial.)

“I was very tired then so I told them to go, and instead visit the one who had them killed,” Fr. Momoy recalls. “A few days later, I read that one of the alleged perpetrators of that massacre was reportedly being haunted and was asking for a change of room.” He laughs at it now.

Some years ago when the TV game show “Deal or No Deal” was running, Fr. Momoy realized that he could see the contents of the attaché cases that participants were to choose from. For seven nights he followed the show and saw which case had the plum prize in millions. Why didn’t he join then? “That would have been unfair advantage,” he says. “And I might lose my gift.”

Was the gift always there? How did he even know he has it?

“I was born a breech baby,” the 60-year-old priest says. “Those born feet first are believed to have the ability to dislodge fish bones stuck in people’s throats.” The boy Momoy was always called upon for such cases. His grandmother was a hilot or practitioner of indigenous healing. When a locust infestation hit their town in Albay, he was asked to try driving the pests away and he did. There was something about the boy, his father had said.

The youngest of five sons of the late Ernesto Borromeo and Felicitas Bragais, now 93, Momoy was born in Ligao, Albay. “We were not well-off so on weekends I would sell candies and newspapers,” he narrates. “I was sickly and would sometimes be in hospital. My uncle, a doctor, had syringes that I would play with. At home, I would inject the dogs and cats. I had invisible playmates.”

It was not until he had grown in age and grace that his special abilities became more evident.

Fr. Momoy vividly recalls that in 1966, on the Feast of the Sacred Heart, something happened that would change his life. A deranged man stabbed to death Fr. Jose Guerrero, the parish priest in Ligao town, while he was visiting the sick in a hospital. “When I heard the pealing of church bells, I just knew he was dead. There was thunder and lightning. I was devastated.”

At a church meeting held after the burial, parish officials stressed that the town would have to replace the dead priest with one of their own to offset a curse. “Ligao at that time had not produced a priest of its own for 16 years,” Fr. Momoy says. He decided it was going to be him.

He reflects: “Hindsight shows that my fiat, though tainted by misplaced guilt, opened doors to mystery. Almost immediately I experienced a lifting of my serial illnesses. If Saul had to be stricken off his horse to be transformed, I had to be drawn to my own calling by the village in need of a substitute offering – not a scapegoat, I hope!”

His motive may not have been the purest in the beginning. “I saw it as an opportunity to study. In our family, I was the only one who finished college. When my parents objected, I said, it’s the seminaryo or the sementeryo.” Off Momoy went to the St. Gregory Minor Seminary in Legazpi City in Albay, and later, the Holy Rosary Major Seminary in Naga City.

“I was never really sure of my priestly vocation,” Fr. Momoy muses. “In college at the Divine Word University, I was drawn into political activism. After finishing AB Philosophy, I took a leave to think things over.”

While doing his summer apostolate, the seminarian met Fr. Thomas Gier of the SOLT congregation. “I came, I saw and was conquered,” he says. He was a step away from ordination when he proceeded to the SOLT novitiate in Albuquerque in New Mexico in the US. In 1979 Fr. Momoy was ordained by Bishop Teotimo Pacis at the St. Stephen’s Church in Ligao.

Fr. Momoy ministered to the ailing during his brief stay in his congregation’s hospice for AIDS patients in Bangkok. Later, as a parish priest in a remote island in Bicol where there were no doctors, he ministered to the sick. “I carried around a priest’s sick call kit that also contained a stethoscope and other medical paraphernalia. I had even assisted a woman in labor.”

He discovered the wonder of coconut water and made a sugar-salt-water solution for dehydrated patients. Holy water and oil were for the sacraments. In fact, he muses, it was when he was administering the sacraments that his gift of healing slowly came to the fore. And through all these, he says, “I also realized in a special way na pari pala ako (that I was a priest).”

But he had yet to see something dramatic happen before his eyes.

“Once I was called to go to a communist-occupied mountain area. When I arrived, the men who were making a coffin said that I had come too late. I went to the dying man and anointed him. I saw many people surrounding him. After I was done, I saw only three people standing.” The rest who had vanished turned out to be souls. The man died. Or so everybody thought. Recounts Fr. Momoy: “I was about 100 meters away when I heard a commotion. The dead man had come back to life! He is still alive today.” (A TV crew tracked the man down not too long ago.)

Fr. Momoy had his own near-death experience. In 1994, while traveling from Manila to Bicol, pranksters threw stones at the vehicle he was in. “I was hit on the right eyebrow. I felt pain. This was followed by an indescribable feeling. Then I saw myself outside the car looking at my bloody self. I asked, is this it Lord? It’s up to you.”

His companions cried, “Si Mamo, wala nang pulso [Mamo has no pulse]!” After about seven minutes in that blissful state, Fr. Momoy’s spirit reunited with his body. “I was so angry with God for bringing me back.” Another strange thing happened immediately after: He found himself in a doctor’s house that had no signage on it and without anyone giving him directions.

After this episode, Fr. Momoy’s “20-20 vision” of internal organs became sharper. It also erased his self-doubt. “At first I thought seeing souls were just part of being a priest,” he says. He even went to Fr. Jaime Bulatao, SJ, a well-known clinical psychologist and expert on the paranormal, for affirmation, and consulted with two bishops and some friends who assured him that he was sane.

Since then Fr. Momoy has been meeting the souls of dead priests, bishops and ordinary folk, some of whom he doesn’t know. The communication is not verbal. He says, “God’s hand is not shortened by death and (continues to) reach souls in need of forgiveness. His mercy is indeed forever.”

One case that helped affirm Fr. Momoy’s gift of seeing was that of Navy officer Phillip Pestaño who died in 1995 under mysterious circumstances. Military officials ruled out foul play and said it was a suicide but Pestaño’s family believed otherwise. Lawyer Felipe Pestaño, Phillip’s father writes: “A priest, a complete stranger out of nowhere, came to see us at Phillip’s wake. Accompanied by a nun who was a distant relative, he revealed that Phillip had asked him to convey a message: ’Tell my parents I did not commit suicide.’”

Fr. Momoy told the Pestaños that for the first time, someone from the other life was asking him to do something. Phillip had appeared to the priest three times. In his written account, Phillip’s father says he was incredulous even though the priest described in detail how his son was killed. It was when Fr. Momoy described Phillip’s character and personality – without having met him at all – that the older Pestaño finally believed him.

Three years later, at a Senate hearing, a forensic expert who had done work on the O.J. Simpson case gave his own description of how Phillip was murdered. It matched Fr. Momoy’s account. According to Phillip’s father, the Senate ruled that the murder was not committed by just one man.

Fr. Momoy reflects: “Are my ’spirit guests’ on a mission on their own to prod me to minister to their grieving kin for whom the other life is totally disincarnate? Let me now continue viewing these spirit guests without a fearful ego.”

Fast forward to the present. Fr. Momoy presides at the Trinitas Integrative Healing Ministry Center under the SOLT in Bonga, Albay. He also does “hospice work” by visiting the sick and the dying in their homes.

Many have experienced healing, among them, Helen Alvarez who at 92 was diagnosed to have Alzheimer’s. Distressed, her daughter Mila A. Magno, asked Fr. Momoy to regularly pray over her mother. He was the family’s house guest in Canada. One day, to everyone’s surprise and joy, Helen emerged from the mist, regained her memory and was again her usual happy self. “Mama lived five more happy and productive years with us before she succumbed to congestive heart failure,” Mila attests. “Up until her death at 97, she remembered everyone by name.”

Although Fr. Momoy does not accept payment, he welcomes donations for the maintenance of the healing center in Albay and his ministry for the poor. He adds sheepishly, “Manay Mila (Magno) gave me an iPad.”

In conducting healing sessions, Fr. Momoy would rather not wade into crowds. He prefers small groups so that he can attend to every individual in a special way. He asks a group of 10 to come forward and scans each patient with his “MRI eye.” He verbalizes what he sees while the rest lay their hands on the patient and pray. Those waiting for their turn are led in prayer and reflection by volunteers and those who have experienced healing.

“This is also a time for evangelization,” says Sr. Sonia Punzalan of the Religious of the Cenacle. A certified teacher of zen meditation, Sr. Sonia is convinced of Fr. Momoy’s gifts and regularly assists him. “Sickness and death offer spaces for finding God in all things, and seeing the world as charged with grandeur! I reiterate Fr. Momoy’s basic orientation: ’There is no space without God.’ As certified Zen teacher of Sanbo Kyodan school, Kamakura, he presents with power the koan: ’Medicine and disease cure each other.’”

Because of his academic background, Fr. Momoy is able to explain the healing phenomenon and articulate it in anthropological, biblical and spiritual terms. His doctoral dissertation is a treasure trove of “eidetic” insights. The priest encourages the “healees” to write down their experiences and reflections so that others may learn from them.

The testimonies, he says, “have challenged my incredulity and made me conscious of my own biases and theological baggage. Gradually, I learned to approach patients, their faith rubbing off on me, not in my own terms but in theirs – their dreams, fears, pains and joys. The shift to the inner realm of the heart is like treading holy ground, and there’s no other way but to go unshod.”

Amazed at his gifts, some noted persons in both the academic and spiritual fields have closely examined Fr. Momoy’s ministry. Zen practitioner Ricardo Gonzalez writes that the healing in Trinitas “is actually (a) quantum mechanics phenomenon.” This means that changes occur via the observer effect, “where a thought is believed to carry an energy force that can influence events and conditions within the physical world.”

Himself a zen practitioner, Fr. Momoy spends an hour in zazen or what he calls in Filipino, pahingalay before healing sessions. He also asks the people to pray over him. “Again, moments before the actual healing, I go into silence, somewhat like a moment of egolessness.” In this state, he says, “There is no longer a separation between healee and myself. For sweeping over me is not just the patient’s pain but also his doubts, resentments and fears. I am so soaked in the experience of oneness such that inner/outer, psycho-emotional/physical separation is non-existent. Then, in an instant, I snap out of that realm and go on with the healing session.

“As the next patient steps forward and whispers his or her health concern, I am brought to a state where words cease to stay on a verbal thinking level. The person becomes a dynamic trigger for images of ailing cells, tissues, organs and systems.”

Dubbed a “Christian Babaylan” by the Baylans of Maramag, Bukidnon, Fr. Momoy says the indigenous rite he went through with them seemed “to open doors that made it possible for me to flow easily through different levels of consciousness. Based on co-gnosis – seeing directly the ailing organs without having to rely on lab reports – whenever the gift floods me, without hesitation, I can now confidently describe the behavior, size, color of tissues and organs. On occasion, the medical doctor assisting me pushes in my hand anatomy charts. I leaf through the pictures and point to the organ in question.”

Fr. Momoy enthuses, “It is with awe and gratitude that I feel the grounding effect of this spirituality shrouded in mystery of grace upon grace. Einstein’s famous words echo in my heart: ‘The most beautiful thing we can experience is the Mysterious. It is the source of all true science.’” •

Fr. Efren Borromeo holds healing sessions at UP Delaney Hall on Monday mornings when he is in Manila. The Trinitas Healing Center is in Bonga, Albay.

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                              Priest claims, 'she has already died'

You could say this woman is “tough as leather,” the material she uses to accent her internationally acclaimed Cora Jacobs handbags made of native palm.  With her international experience in designing for the great fashion houses of Yves Saint Laurent, Christian Dior and Givenchy, she has become known as the pioneer of Philippine handbag design. Cora Jacob rode the swell of business success in the 1980s but has also weathered major storms and upheavals in her incredibly colorful life.

Almost two decades into her business, Cora was forced to close shop because of failing health.  Of her healing journey, Cora writes:

“I remember 1997 as a very stressful period in my life. I was on top of everything-overseeing manufacturing, distribution and retailing. Eventually, the stress took a toll on my health. I was diabetic and losing my eyesight. There was no way I could continue in that way. I had a thousand workers in my factory and some more subcontractors in the depressed areas of Manila. I simply paid everybody and told them I could not support them anymore.

“One afternoon, Dr. Celina Guerrero and her husband, an oncologist practicing in Hawaii, dropped by to introduce their friend, Sr. Sonia. I was to check in at the hospital for surgery on my carotid-a bad case of occlusion. Forthwith we prayed for courage.

“My luggage had been packed for the hospital, but Sr. Sonia convinced me to go see a clairvoyant, Fr. Efren Borromeo in a small chapel in Fairview.  A second opinion would do no harm so my husband and I decided to give it a try.

“Christmas season that was. The ride to Fairview took us a couple of hours. Fr. Efren was in the confessional. Ah, so Sister wanted me to go to confession before the hospital procedures!
“When we saw the last penitent signing himself with the cross, we dashed to the priest as fast as our feet could take us. After we had introduced ourselves, Fr. Efren blurted by way of greeting, ’What business have you got going around like this?!’ He put his hand over my eyes, then my neck.

“Right after our confessions, my husband got exceedingly perplexed when Fr. Efren whispered to him privately: ’Do you know that your wife has already died?’  To me, he said, ’Cora, you have yet a mission in this new life given to you.’

“To my surprise, I in turn could see through him. ’Something seems to be wrong with your stomach, Father.’ Laughing cheerily, Fr. Efren said, ’Yes, this is where all the negative energies of healees go.’

“Three days after this strange encounter, I went for an angiogram. It confirmed that I had total occlusion, and three main arteries were blocked. The doctors were extremely puzzled. Why was I walking about when clinically I should be either dead or comatose and a vegetable?
“I stayed 10 days in the hospital. To this day, no one can explain how I can still do all the things I’ve been doing-and more. I spent the next two years following Fr. Efren around in his mission.  I even spent a whole year teaching inmates at a jail how to make waste baskets and other home accessories.”

Cora, on the basis of laboratory findings, technically remains blind. Yet for more than 10 years now, she has been designing bags and accessories which she showcases in major cities of Europe and the United States.  Amazingly, she not only continues her artistic endeavors but is also able to read auras-a gift she claims she has discovered during her first session with Fr. Momoy.  “Payback time!” she terms it, adding, “I can’t believe that indeed I am now on the mission band of Fr. Efren!”

Plagued with diabetes and a kidney problem, Cora remains undaunted. She has worked her way back to the world of design, feeling refreshed, strong and fearless. “Two years of blindness saw the strengthening of my relationship with the Lord. With that, I have no more fears. I went through great failures so I have learned my lessons and managed to get up again.  I feel I’m starting my life again, except now I have the wisdom of past experiences and a greater faith in God’s will.”#

'Ina': What price family, faith, love

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

Love, commitment. The self, comfort, material possessions. Family. Occasionally, these are put to the test. Which will endure? At what price?

Marilou Diaz-Abaya’s latest film, “Ina: Ikaw ang Pag-ibig,” does not beg for obvious answers as it follows what looks like separate journeys of individuals whose lives are inexorably linked with one another. Although familial, emotional and spiritual ties exist among them, each has a road to follow, a different drummer to heed.

Then there is “Ina,” the venerated image of Our Lady of Peñafrancia who is known for her miraculous intercessions, and who is at the heart of the movie.

Vangie (Ina Feleo) is a single mom to Gabby (Yogo Singh), her young son with boyfriend Joey (Jomari Yllana), an OB-Gyne who keeps pressing her to finally marry him so they could have a family. Dr. Joey is caring, committed and affectionate but Vangie who works in advertising is afraid to commit.

Vangie lives with mom (Shamaine Centerera), who looks after Gabby, because her absentee dad (Noni Buencamino) has been working abroad for years and is ostensibly not coming home soon.

Vangie has a pro bono sideline radically different from her commercial productions. She’s working on-and-off on a documentary on the Virgin of Peñafrancia.

Fr. Johnny (Marvin Agustin) is Vangie’s only brother, who takes his priestly vocation to heart, braving sun and rain and driving his motorcycle through dirt roads to reach his flock in remote places. Work and stress take their toll and he comes down with leukemia.

At this point, the Cruz family must either hang together or pull apart. Family problems, medical procedures, financial woes and spiritual questions surge on them like a tsunami.

Son in tow, Vangie travels to Bicol to visit the Virgin of Peñafrancia, whom she only knows through her video footage. They quietly slip into the small chapel where the image is usually kept after the feast. Vangie seeks out an aunt who turns out to be the keeper of the virgin’s miraculous cape, and returns to Manila with it.

Fr. Johnny is close to dying. A risky bone marrow transplant could spell the difference. Vangie is the only matching source for bone marrow. Will she or won’t she?

An intense moment: Vangie confesses to her ailing brother in the hope that the sacrament would result in healing for him, for herself and her family. She spills all.

By this time, the “Ina” that Vangie used to know only as the image on her video screen has come alive in her family who is drawn closer together. But there are loads of material and interior baggage they’d have to give up. Will there be healing for Fr. Johnny and the rest of them? Where is the miracle? You will have to watch the movie.

Weaving footage of a true-to-life event (the Peñafrancia feast) into a fictional feature film takes a lot of creativity. Diaz-Abaya and her crew braved the surging crowds to film this once-in-a-century event.

The budget-challenged indie film is a celebration of the 300th year of Our Lady of Peñafrancia, whose week-long September feast draws hundreds of thousands of devotees, spiritual seekers and tourists to Naga City where she is enshrined. It was commissioned by the Archdiocese of Nueva Caceres under Archbishop Leonardo Z. Legazpi.

“Ina,” says its director, was no ordinary project. Even while battling cancer, she forged on to do what she now considers the film closest to her heart. The multi-awarded director has done many groundbreaking and socially-relevant movies (“Rizal,” “Muro-ami,” and “Bagong Buwan” among many), but “Ina” has a special place in her heart.

“It could be my swan song,” she quips. “I had no idea if I could see it through. If I didn’t, there was [director] Laurice Guillen or Olive Lamasan, both Marian devotees, to finish it.”

But Marilou Diaz-Abaya and her “Ina” came through with flair and flourish. A miracle. Viva la Virgen!

Painting the word beyond

Sunday Inquirer Magazine/FEATURES/by Ma. Ceres P. Doyo

Printed stampita-size versions of a painting of EDSA People Power of 1986, with the figure of the Blessed Virgin Mary dressed in yellow, went around during that time when most Filipinos were aglow with patriotic fervor. The original painting was later presented as a gift to the then newly-installed president, Corazon C. Aquino, the widow swept into power by an almost bloodless uprising.

Now, alas, that painting (“Our Lady of Edsa,” 1987) cannot be found or traced.

Fortunately, an almost exact version of the painting exists, plus or minus some faces that were in the lost original version.  This version was done by the same artist and is in the possession of the Franciscan Missionaries of Mary (FMM), the congregation to which the artist belonged.

The artist, Sr. Elisea Quinto, FMM, went to the Eternal Art Gallery in the Sky in 1993, but she left behind a body of work that speaks of her fervor for her art, and most of all, for her calling to the Franciscan way of life.

The FMMs recently mounted an exhibit of Sr. Elisea’s paintings as part of their preparations for the celebration of 100 years of their presence in the Philippines. Founded in 1888 by a brave and charismatic French nun named Mary of the Passion, the FMMs had their beginnings in the wilds of India. The first batch of FMMs arrived in the Philippines on Dec. 10, 1912, part of the stream of arrivals of Catholic missionaries, mostly from Europe, in the early 1900s. The missionaries became involved in various apostolic ministries.

The opening of the pre-centennial exhibit also featured the launching of Sr. Elisea’s book of paintings, titled “A Flame of Fire.” The title is a translation from French of a line in a prayer of the FMMs’ foundress: “Make my heart and the institute a flame of fire which will embrace the whole earth. Cleave this flame Yourself.”

A total of 48 paintings in oil and acrylic by Sr. Elisea are included in the book. But not all were available for showing at the exhibit. For example, the life-size portrait of the late Rufino Cardinal Santos (1960) that hangs at the lobby of the Cardinal Santos Medical Center could not be borrowed.

Sr. Elisea’s paintings belong to a certain art genre that could probably be described as “religious art.” These are not naïf art at all. But one cannot miss the innocence that pervades many of her prayerful renditions. The nun deliberately hewed close to the prayer-book art of yesteryears.  Her saccharine works would give critics a toothache.

“Our Lady of the Mission,” 1985. Contributed photo

But the bright celestial scenes ooze with symbolism. These must be Sr. Elisea’s idea of the so-called beatific vision. Lots of clouds, doves and lilies.  Cherubim and seraphim galore.  No laughing or angry Jesus meant to jolt or stun.  And the only street scenes are in one painting that shows the Child Jesus handing bread to a crippled child on the street of Nazareth circa 10 AD, and the EDSA highway people power scene circa 1986 AD.

Jesus and Mary, Franciscan saints and martyrs are common in Sr. Elisea’s paintings.  She did several of Sts. Francis of Assisi, Clare and Anthony, and painted the FMM sisters who were martyred in China during the Boxer Rebellion (among the many canonized by Pope John Paul II before he died in 2005.)

Most of Sr. Elisea’s paintings are huge and hang mostly in the halls of religious houses. Many paintings are in FMM convents. She painted several Last Suppers.  Her huge “The Annunciation” (1950) is the backdrop of the altar at the FMMs’ convent in Tagaytay. “St. Francis Preaching in the Woods” (1959, 359” x 68”), is at the lobby of the FMM-run Stella Maris College in Quezon City.

The FMM sisters think there might be other paintings by Sr. Elisea out there, and wish that they knew who the owners are.

Sr. Elisea hailed from Quezon province and was one of 15 siblings. She joined the FMMs in 1942 and made her final vows in 1948. She was already a nun when she finished Fine Arts, summa cum laude, at the University of Santo Tomas in 1950. The nun was sent to the FMMs’ generalate in Rome where she stayed for four years to further develop her talent.

But painting was not Sr. Elisea’s main preoccupation in life.  Sr. Emma Fondevilla, present head of the FMMs in the Philippines, observed that Sr. Elisea was “first and foremost a missionary.”

A short bio in Sr. Elisea’s book describes her thus: “Open to the Spirit and to the signs of the times, she served the poor with great sensitivity and compassion. She was actively involved in various ministries: in the prisons, relocation areas, medical clinics and feeding centers.”

The FMMs recall that Sr. Elisea did creative work in solitude and mostly in the stillness of the night after she was done with her varied chores during the day. Her paintings, her sisters say, are indeed “the fruits of her contemplation and missionary dynamism,” and her personal depiction of a world beyond the here and now as we know it. •