A market-driven church

The Manila Times cartoon on 21 February 2024

"A Market Drive Church" was also published by The Manila Times on 21 February 2024.

Asked which commandment in the law is the greatest, Jesus Christ replied: "You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind." The increasing number of mall chapels, like many innovative reforms that are in the works in the Catholic Church today, is indicative of a ministry that tries to keep in touch with the times. However, the other somewhat dissenting commentary may also suggest of signs that we are loving our God with half of our heart, a third of our soul, and a fourth of our mind.

Two years ago, the Archdiocese of Manila launched a mission chapel at Landmark, right at the heart of Makati's business district. In a mass, His Excellency Manila Archbishop Jose F. Cardinal Advincula told the chapel goers:

"Although your residence is not here in the mall, your “lived space” is spent here because of work or because of the mobility of your lifestyle. The church wants to be close to you. She wants to accompany you where you are and whenever you need her maternal guidance."

By "work" Bishop Advincula could be referring to entrepreneurs and wage earners who must work on a Sunday and are therefore unable to attend Sunday masses in their respective parishes. Firms in service-oriented industries like parlors, restaurants, grocery stores, payment centers, clinics, among many other outlets, get most of their customers on weekends; opting to close these establishments on the Lord’s Day can mean leaving so much money on the table. The unspoken word is that money is God, to be loved with all our heart.

Globalization has further reshaped the workplace. Call center agents, for example, who are attending to overseas clients need to work outside "normal" working hours. Companies with offshore counterparts adjust to work hours and workdays in other countries.

By "mobility of lifestyle" the bishop was probably referring to several things, including what has been called "mall culture." The country is home to a thousand shopping malls. These malls have dominated the urban landscape and captured the fancy of city dwellers. It is indicative of how consumerism has transformed the local lifestyle. For decades now, the country's economy has been propelled in large part by domestic consumption.

The theological basis for the church mission in malls shifts from a focus on people going to places of worship to one that brings the ministry to people. The church sees a community in malls; therefore, it must send its ministers to attend to the spiritual needs of the flock in these communities. Where the COVID 19 pandemic has given rise to the phenomenon of virtual worship, changing lifestyles are giving occasion for redefining physical space and the way the communities are making the places of worship evolve.

It used to be that the physical structure of worship stands out at the center of the town, often across the municipal hall. Such a landmark symbolizes the community’s unequalled love for God. Mall chapels, being a fixture within a larger structure of commerce, symbolize the subjugation of the love of God to the love of money.

But one can find redemption in holy masses being heard in malls. Not too long ago, believers went to mass in their "Sunday's best." Now, in my local parish, I can see parishioners coming to mass in sandals, wearing shorts and tees, not much unlike the one who just bought suka from the sari-sari-store. This is not by any means a way to judge anybody, because how we praise God cannot be measured by how we look. But if I were hosting a party, I would prefer the partygoers to show more respect. And the Lord our God is host of every eucharistic celebration. In that sense masses in malls are to be uniquely valued because people tend to dress better inside malls than inside a local parish church. 

Again, how we dress up and how the physical structure of the church is built are just symbols that do not necessarily reflect the true value of our relationship with God. But if we go solely by them, there is doubt if indeed we love the Lord Our God with all our heart, our soul, our strength, and our mind.

Bringing the ministry of the church closer to the people justifies how Jesus reached out to all, sinners and saints alike. He did not wait for people to come to him, he delivered God’s word to them—from village to village, from house to house, from hilltops and beachfronts to synagogues.

On the hunt for the one lost sheep, today’s mission chapels mimic the early years of evangelization. Perhaps it is impossible to match the zeal of the early missions as they were driven by the pre-Second Vatican Council preaching that there was no salvation outside of the Catholic Church, but one cannot discredit as ungrounded the totality of church reforms that had taken shape under the present papacy.   

Yet finding piety in a house of commerce is a hypothetical proposition at this point. Here is an idea, from the perspective of the church, that hopes for the conversion of a commercial experience to one that is spiritual or, from the perspective of mall owners, that foot traffic generated by the chapel can be converted to sales. The complementarity remains to be proven in the same way that risks of chapel goers moderating their spending sprees to save something for the poor may hurt businesses in the end.

Can Peter’s successor, in whose hand’s Jesus has accorded such a wide latitude of discretion that “whatever he binds on earth will be bound in heaven,” consider more tweaking of the rules, such as in assigning the Lord’s Day to whatever day in the week, depending on a person’s day-to-day inclination?  

The church, of course, has been flexible throughout the ages. Asked why Moses allowed divorce, Jesus said: "Because of your hardness of heart Moses permitted you to divorce your wives; but from the beginning it has not been this way." In other words, Moses adapted to the wishes of the market.

Contraception and homosexual acts used to be taboo, but Pope Francis recently decreed that a form of sub-sacramental blessing can be given to those who seek it for same-sex unions. Nothing can pre-empt and frustrate procreation more effectively than same-sex unions. In the context of the LGBTQ+ community’s fair lobby for recognition, equality and respect, the pope preaches understanding, compassion, inclusivity, and openness. He urges his church to open its doors to all, sinners and saints alike. Like Moses, he unsettles the norm to satisfy the market.

Fr. Jack Carroll, SJ

 

Fr. Jack Carroll, SJ. Photo by Gerald Nicolas.

Fr. Jack Carroll, SJ was also published by The Manila Times on 17 January 2024.

WHEN I resigned after more than a year working as a research associate at the Institute on Church and Social Issues (ICSI) in 1995, the late Fr. John "Jack" J. Carroll, SJ, who was the executive director, gave me a piece of cloth as a sendoff gift. He said he wanted me to be the best-dressed guy in Eastern Samar (I was about to join the staff of the Office of the Governor in Eastern Samar as executive assistant).

My first "public" assignment at the provincial capitol was to lead the recitation of "Panunumpa sa Watawat ng Pilipinas" (Oath to the Flag of the Philippines) during the flag-raising ceremony one Monday morning.

I had no problem committing to memory each line of the "panunumpa," and with over a hundred provincial officials and employees following my vocal prompts, viz:

"Ako ay Pilipino/Buong katapatang nanunumpa/Sa watawat ng Pilipinas/At sa bansang kanyang sinasagisag/Na may dangal, katarungan at Kalayaan/Na pinakikilos ng sambayanang Maka-Diyos/Maka-tao/Makakalikasan at Makabansa."

The problem was that somewhere at the end, there was nothing but complete silence after I added a couple of waraynon words to the Tagalog text. After "Makabansa," I said something like "tangkod" (honest) and "maduroto" (hard worker).

I reckoned that "maka-Diyos" (pro-God) was enough. Being godly makes one makatao (pro-people), makakalikasan (pro-environment), makabansa (patriotic) and all, but since these other virtues had found their way to the language of the oath, adding something to the mix should not hurt. Or so I thought.

When then Gov. Lutz Barbo, my new boss, took the microphone to address the Monday morning audience (he always did this whenever he was around — for a variety of reasons: to motivate his people, to break some news if there was any, to convey messages of particular interest to the provincial government, or to otherwise just wish everyone a fulfilling week ahead), he complained how one could freely mangle an oath to the flag which to him was sacrosanct. I was out of line, and only a boundless amount of tact must have kept him from calling me irreverent.

Well, I had donned for the occasion a new custom-tailored pair of trousers from the clothing material that Father Jack had given me. Perhaps I felt dapper wearing it, or maybe I was taking myself too seriously as a former Jesuit mentee. A colleague at ICSI — renamed "John J. Carroll Institute on Church and Social Issues" in 2007 — once said she learned her irreverence from the Jesuits.

Father Jack was an American Jesuit priest who did most of his ministry in the Philippines. He was a sociology professor at the Ateneo de Manila University for more than four decades; counting among his former students are hundreds of past and present movers and leaders in both the public and private sectors. He used to be invited by newly elected members of the Philippine Senate as a resource speaker in orientation workshops where he would joke that "he wished they would do these learning events at Payatas, Quezon City" (instead of some five-star hotel).

The pieces he wrote for academic journals and newspaper columns on social and political issues were sometimes radical, rebellious, provocative and irreverent, but always scholarly and impeccably grounded. He was, in the words of fellow sociology professor (University of the Philippines) and writer Randy David, "an intellectual warrior in a battle zone, and offers no apologies for going beyond mere observation and academic analysis."

In the April-June 1999 issue of the UP Public Policy Journal, he prefaced his article titled "The Philippines: Forgiving or Forgetting" with an indictment of electoral politics: "As other countries struggle to prosecute the torturers and collaborators of their authoritarian regimes, the Philippines deals with the issue by electing them to office." He was referring to efforts made by countries such as South Africa, Brazil, Guatemala and Chile, among others, to make their rulers account for the atrocities they committed against their own citizens in comparison to what happened to the Philippines in the years that followed the end — supposedly — of the Marcos dictatorship in 1986. Also (this was in 1999), he lamented that "the policemen and soldiers who carried out the torture and salvaging are still among us, some surely still in uniform."

In a book titled "Engaging Society: The Sociologist in a War Zone," he outlined two worldviews that underpin the theory of change in society — one recognizes that society is built on consensus or shared values, the other sees it as founded on power and coercion.

People believe in a common set of values and understanding in a consensus theory. Their institutions operate based on those shared values. In Father Jack's words, "power is the servant of society and its values."

The UP Public Policy article warns that the failure to account for transgressions of those values, as people should when their constitutionally guaranteed human rights are violated, "reflects the weakness of the 'common conscience,' a weak sense of the nation and of the common good. Unless the nation rises up to vindicate and reaffirm those values, it may be condemned to wander forever in the wilderness of valueless power play among the elite."

On the other hand, "coercion theory sees society and the inequalities it has created as resulting from the power relationships among individuals and sectors that have developed over time. The values in society defend, if not preserve, the interests of the elite and reinforce systems and structures of inequality. In contrast to the consensus theory, the coercion theory considers 'values as the servants of power.'"

The intellectual warrior did not shoot arrows from nowhere. For decades, he worked with the poor, saying Mass in Filipino with his flock, who derived their livelihood from the dump in Payatas, Quezon City. He also ran a feeding and scholarship program with them.

For over 60 years, he lived a fruitful life in the Philippines, long enough to be able to say (I would assume with sadness in his heart) that in this part of the world, "power has much more to do with who gets what than do society's values or the common good."

(We recite a common oath to the flag but with not much conviction like what Governor Barbo would need us to have.)

Father Jack underwent heart surgery in his early 80s, but even with a bum heart, he continued to teach graduate courses at the Ateneo. He succumbed to complications from pneumonia at age 90 in 2014. Yesterday, Jan. 16, 2024, was his 100th birth anniversary.

Empowerment and Resilience: Balangiga's Story of Community Transformation

First published with the title Balangiga and the IDPs in My Mind on September 16, 2019.

Community members working on a KALAHI CIDSS Project in Balangiga, Eastern Samar. Photo credit: International Committee of the Red Cross.

Unlocking Community Potential: The Balangiga Transformation

In the period spanning mid-2003 to 2006, I played a pivotal role in a team that orchestrated community gatherings in Balangiga, Eastern Samar. This initiative was a component of the KALAHI CIDSS Project, a remarkable venture propelled by the Department of Social Welfare and Development (DSWD). This endeavor harnessed the strength of community participation to execute, oversee, and maintain development projects. Amidst its success, the project later extended its reach across countless municipalities, while a bill aims to institutionalize KALAHI's empowering legacy.

Empowering the Underserved: The Impact of KALAHI CIDSS

KALAHI CIDSS emerged as a beacon of hope, a poverty alleviation and good governance program that ignited transformation where it was needed most. Its unparalleled strength lay in its ability to transcend barriers and reach marginalized barangays, often considered challenging to engage. One such example is Balangiga, where we ventured to Maybunga, the farthest barangay, sometimes bi-monthly.

The heart of this initiative resided in the empowerment of communities to identify solutions that could uplift their lives. Witnessing tangible outcomes of this endeavor—such as a functional water system—infused residents with newfound self-assurance. Bolstered by this confidence, they embarked on a journey to collaborate with the government. For a community that had endured isolation, this metamorphosis was nothing short of revolutionary.

A Government Unveiled: Uniting with KALAHI

Before KALAHI's intervention, the government remained an enigma to these communities. Aside from an elementary school teacher who occasionally interacted with them, government involvement was nearly nonexistent. Their connection with the municipal agriculture office was a rare occurrence, as the municipality's financial constraints restricted fieldwork. This isolation ended in KALAHI's embrace, marking a shift in their perception of governance.

The teacher's steadfast dedication, navigating challenging conditions to educate Grades 1 to 3 pupils in a single class, mirrored the resilient spirit of the community. KALAHI's arrival unraveled new possibilities, bridging a chasm that previously separated the people from the realm of government.

Navigating Challenges: Balancing Necessities

Maybunga, though once a thriving hub, had dwindled to a mere 35 residents by 2003, from a peak of around 250 families in the early 1980s. Historical turmoil, including martial law-induced military abuses, cast a shadow on the community's vibrancy. Martial law era clashes forced the residents to flee in 1984, leaving Maybunga nearly uninhabited. This harrowing period led to a mass exodus, causing interior municipalities' populations in Samar to plummet by 90 percent.

An Ongoing Struggle: From Displacement to Resilience

As the IDPs (internally displaced persons) dispersed to various destinations, including Tacloban City, their resilience faced yet another test in the face of Typhoon Yolanda's devastating impact in 2013. Often residing in high-risk areas due to limited options, they found themselves grappling with displacement once again. United Nations findings underscored that poverty, conflict, and environmental threats fuel displacement to urban centers, perpetuating a cycle of adversity.

Yolanda's aftermath saw many IDPs confronting displacement for the second time, a bitter reminder of the unyielding challenges they faced. The cycle of poverty-induced displacement transcended generations, impacting early settlers who migrated from the Poblacion and neighboring urban centers. While they initially owned small plots of land, emergencies coerced them into parting with their only assets, perpetuating the cycle of landlessness and poverty.

A Beacon of Resistance and Resilience

Balangiga's historical defiance against American colonizers, marked by a fateful uprising, resonates as a testament to the community's spirit. This courage, although challenging, earned them recognition and support from the government. A recent stride in this direction is the paved road that now connects upland barangays to the Poblacion, a symbol of progress.

Lessons from past disasters such as Yolanda emphasize the integration of disaster risk reduction into both humanitarian efforts and developmental strategies. The connection between the two is undeniable. Governments confronting urban challenges must heed Balangiga's journey, analyzing how economic concentration shapes urbanization trends while addressing issues like congestion, crime, and urban poverty.

Uplifting Balangiga's Legacy: A Testament to Endurance

The story of Balangiga exemplifies the potential within communities to transform themselves when empowered by effective initiatives like KALAHI CIDSS. This program embodies the essence of resilience, forging a path towards a brighter future through collaboration, innovation, and enduring determination. As we reflect on Balangiga's journey, let it serve as a reminder that empowerment and unity can pave the way for a prosperous tomorrow.

Suffering and Resilience: The Tragic Tale of Sisa and a Modern Parallel

Remembering Sisa was first published on October 8, 2019.

Unveiling Sisa's Heartache: A Tale of Desperation and Injustice

In the masterpiece "Noli Me Tangere" penned by Jose Rizal, the character Sisa—possibly named after his sister Narcisa—unfolds as a tragic mother burdened by the sorrows of her life. Her story, while a work of fiction, resonates with the harsh realities that echo through time. Let's delve into Sisa's tale and draw a parallel to a modern-day incident that mirrors her suffering.

The Unforgiving Plight of Sisa and Her Sons

Sisa, the mother of Crispin and Basilio, faced immense struggles in a society marked by inequality and cruelty. Her husband's vices and abuse only added to her misery. These two sons, young and hopeful, worked as Sacristan apprentices under the watchful eyes of Father Salvi in a parish. Tragically, they were wrongly accused of stealing from the church collections, a crime they did not commit.

The already dire circumstances took a dark turn when Crispin disappeared, likely falling victim to those in power. Basilio, though surviving an attempt on his life, was left with painful bullet wounds. Their mother's anguish knew no bounds, and she embarked on a relentless search for her lost children. Sisa's heart-wrenching journey through sorrow and despair resonates powerfully even in today's world.

A Modern Parable of Loss and Resilience

In an unexpected encounter, a middle-aged woman's plight captures the essence of Sisa's enduring pain. This woman, much like Sisa, found herself lost in a labyrinth of distress, seemingly searching for what was taken from her. Her unceasing conversation with herself revealed a life marred by loss and adversity.

As she shared her story, it became evident that her two sons were taken from her in 2016—a parallel to Sisa's tragic loss. Her sons, Dannele Picasio Medina Perez Lozano, or Pica, and Juan Miguel Medina Perez Lozano, or Jules, were abruptly snatched from her life. Her heartbreak mirrored Sisa's agony as she repeated their names, a poignant reminder of the love and pain that defined her existence.

The Struggles of a Modern Sisa

Despite her shattered world, this modern-day Sisa, Carolina Medina Perez Lozano, exuded strength and resilience. Once a COO of the SM Group of Companies, her life took a heart-wrenching turn that led to a tumultuous journey. Her story unfolded through impeccable English and flawless diction, a stark contrast to her circumstance. Much like Sisa, who wandered through the streets searching for her children, Carolina seemed to be moving through life, clinging to hope.

The challenges she faced, the allegations against her sons, and the societal ridicule she endured shed light on the broader issue of injustices and the complexities of life. Her story intertwined with Sisa's tale, underlining the universal themes of loss, perseverance, and the unwavering love of a mother.

A Glimpse into the Depth of Humanity

In the midst of these heartbreaking narratives, one cannot help but reflect on the collective human experience. The pain that both Sisa and Carolina endured speaks to the resilience inherent within us all. Their stories echo through time, a testament to the enduring nature of love and the fight against adversity.

As we draw parallels between these two narratives, we are reminded that suffering and resilience are shared human experiences. Just as Sisa's pain transcended the pages of literature, Carolina's struggle transcends our modern world. The echoes of their stories remind us to embrace compassion, recognize the depth of each individual's journey, and stand against injustice.

In the end, Sisa's heartache and Carolina's struggles compel us to view the world through a lens of empathy and understanding. Their stories, though separated by time, bridge the gap between generations, reminding us of the power of the human spirit to persevere through even the darkest of times.