- Jun-G Bargayao, Jr. -

Last weekend, I was in Arvisu House, the prenovitiate house of the Society of Jesus in the Philippines here in Manila. Jorge (aka Certified Palaboy) was there too. He was one of the retreat participants. After the retreat it was announced that he was accepted to the prenovitiate program of the Jesuits.

Syempre, naalala ko ang aking panimula sa Kapisanan ni Hesus. Apat na taon na ang nakalipas…

Sinulat ko po ito Hulyo, 2008…

Hulyo na pala.

Tatlong taon na ang nakalipas mula nang una akong pumunta upang manirahan ako sa Arvisu na isang Pre-novitiate House ng mga Heswita. Umuulan noon. Nasa taxi ako, tiniteks ko si Fr. Archie. Inilantad ko sa kanya ang aking nararamdaman. Kasing lakas ng tagaktak ng ulan ang tibok ng aking puso. Bumabaha ng pawis ang buo kong katawan. Tila yata nalulunod ako. Nahihirapan na akong huminga. Sana hindi ospital ang aking kahahantungan.

Simbilis ng ambulansya ang sagot ni Fr. Archie, “Holy anxiety. Magdasal.”

Nagdasal ako. Pumikit. Pumasok sa isip ko ang aking mission trip sa East Timor. Magbibigay ako ng talk noon tungkol sa pagsunod sa panawagan ng Diyos. Hindi pa man tinatawag ang pangalan ko upang magsalita, naliligo na ako sa pawis. Balisang-balisa ang aking damdamin. Malaking katanungan ang nasa isip ko, “Maiintindihan kaya nila ako?” Marahil tatango, tatawa, at tutugon sila ngunit hindi dahil sa talas ng aking pananalita kundi sa dating ng aking kilos. “Hindi ko yata kakayanin ito. Hindi si Jose Ramos-Horta ang kailangan dito kundi si Charlie Chaplin,” kutya ko sa sarili.

Kinalkal ko sa kaibuturan ng sarili ang lakas ng loob. “Para ito sa Kanya,” bulong ko. Kung mabagal ang pagtungo ko sa harap, mabilis naman ang pag-abot sa akin ng mikropono. Kaytagal bago ko nabitawan ang una kong mga salita, “Good evening.” Kailangan ko lang palang simulan. Himala! Nagwakas ang aking talk nang di ko namamalayan. Nagsimula akong takot, natapos naman ako na punung-puno ng lakas ng loob.

“Katipunan na po tayo sir.,” sabi ng taxi driver. Nataranta ako. Kay lapit na ng Arvisu. Masid ko ang pagtila ng ulan kasabay ang pagkalma ng aking dibdib. May takot pa rin ngunit batid kong may tapang na umuusbong sa aking puso.

Lumiko ang taxi sa B. Gonzales St. Huminto sa harap ng puting bahay. Iniabot ko ang aking pamasahe. Bumaba. Huminga ako ng malalim. Humugot ng lakas. Pinindot ang doorbell. Kaagad na may nagbukas, nakangiti. Si Bro. Raymund. Inabot ko ang aking kamay sa kanya at sinabi, “Good Evening!”

Inihatid ako ni Bro. Raymund sa aking silid. Nakaupo ako sa aking higaan nang aking marinig ang isang himig, “Ang sinumang sa Aki’y mananahan, nananahan din Ako sa kanya…” Hinaharana ako ng aking mga bagong kasambahay. Lubos ang aking kagalakan. Nang matapos ang harana, iniwan nila akong mag-isa. Iniayos ko ang aking mga damit sa aparador. Nilagyan ko ng bed sheet ang aking higaan. Naligo. Nagbihis. Nahiga. Naisip kong manalangin. Nagtungo ako sa chapel. Nagdasal, “Panginoon, narito ako. Alay ko ito Sa’yo.” Kasabay ng mga dasal na ito ang pagtulo ng aking mga luha; luhang nanggagaling sa bukal ng pagtitiwala.

Matapos ang aking pagdarasal, bumalik na ako sa aking silid. Kinuha ko ang aking celphone at nag-text, “Fr. Archie, maraming salamat po. Nandito na ako. Todo na ‘to!” Ang sagot ni Fr. Archie, “Enjoy!”

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ –

what caught my attention today are the pinoy youtube stars, Cris Cendana and Gabe Bondoc. Great singers. prolific composers. celebrity looking.

here are some of their works:

introducing Cris Cendana’s New Day…

here’s gabe bondoc…

my random thoughts:
1. ang galing talaga ng pinoy.
2. there are many people who are so gifted and talented.
3. youtube is an opportunity to be famous.
4. one can use their giftedness to inspire and motivate others to enjoy living the gift of life.
5. cris and gabe are great artists.
6. la lang… sana ako din… hehehe…

last saturday, i watched the concert of bro utoy. lover boy pala yun. hahaha…

music is a beautiful gift from God. it touches the heart. it disturbs the mind. it refreshes the soul.

to all singers: keep singing

to all composers: keep writing songs. beautiful melody with inspiring lyrics.

to all musicians: continue to provide great harmony.

to me: keep listening… continue to be touched… always appreciate and affirm.

salute to cris and gabe!

galing galing! panalo!!!

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

Balik aral na po. Pero… Good news! Wala na po kaming final examinations. Ginhawa po ito sa akin at sa mga kapwa ko mag-aaral sa Ateneo de Manila University. Siyempre, tuloy pa rin po ang ATENEO TASK FORCE ONDOY…

Noong binalita po na walang na kaming final examinations, naalala ko ang karanasang naisulat ko noon. Ito po yun…

*****

Tanghaling tapat at kay init. Nagmamadali ako. Sampung minuto na lang. Kailangan kong makarating sa paaralan bago mag-ala-una. Pawis na pawis na ako. Banat nang banat sa pagbibisikleta. Tutok na tutok. Mabilis na ang kabog ng aking dibdib. Hingal na hingal na ako. Pero wala na akong oras para magpahinga. Pedal lang nang pedal. Pedal lang nang pedal.

Isa’t kalahating kilometro pa. Napatid ang tanikala ng aking bisikleta. Sinubukan kong ayusin ito. Ngunit hindi ko na maayos.

Naupo ako sa gilid ng kalsada. Hindi ko alintana ang init ng araw.

Patay. Hindi na ako makakapag-exam. Hindi na nga ako nakabayad ng matrikula, hindi pa ako makakapag-exam. Sayang ang pagpapakumbabang pakiusap ko upang makahingi ng promissory note. Sayang ang review ko kagabi. Hindi na nga ako nakatulog. Sayang lang pala ang lahat.

Napayuko ako. Pumikit. Narinig ko ang mga bulong ng hangin. Hindi ko matanggap ang kanyang sinabi na okey lang yan. Kasi hindi okey ang aking nararamdaman. Pero, ramdam ko ang hagod ng hangin sa aking balikat. Napalamig nito ang umiinit na galit sa aking kalooban.

Dumilat ako. Nagpasyang takbuhin na lang ang paaralan. Iniwanan ko ang bisikleta sa tabi ng daan. Dalawang minuto na lang at magsisimula na ang aking exam.

Pagkalipas ng walong minuto, humahangos akong nakatayo sa labas ng gate ng paaralan. Sabi ng guard kailangan kong dumiretso sa guidance office para kumuha ng permission to enter the class slip. Hindi ako sumunod. Dumiretso ako sa classroom namin. Hindi ako pinapasok ng proctor, sabi niya kailangan ko daw pumunta sa guidance office. Wala akong magawa kundi ang sumunod. Ngunit wala pala si Ma’am Martinez na aming guidance counselor. May pinuntahan daw siya sabi ng secretary niya.

Umupo ako sa sofa. Puno ako ng pagsisisi. Sinisi ko ang aking bisikleta. Sinisi ko ang aking ina. Sinisi ko ang aking ama. Wala na kasi kaming pera, kahit dalawang piso lang na pamasahe. Sinisi ko na ang lahat. Sinisi ko ang sarili.

Naidlip ako sa inis.

Ginising ako ng isang mahinahong paghagod sa aking balikat. Tatlumpung minuto na pala ang lumipas. Dumating na si Ma’am Martinez. Okey lang yan, bulong niya. Siguro alam na niya kung bakit ako naroon.

Pinahidan ko ang aking luha. Napatingin ako sa mesa. Nakahanda na pala ang aking test paper. Sabi ni Ma’am duon na lang daw ako mag-exam. Sabay ng magkahalong pawis at luha ang naramramdaman kong pagkamangha at pagpapasalamat.

Natapos ko ang exam. Ipinasa ko ang aking papel kay Ma’am. Nagpasalamat. Umalis ako sa guidance office na nakangiti.

Palutang akong naglalakad palabas ng gate ng paaralan. Binaybay ko ang daan na tinakbo ko kanina. Naalala ko ang aking bisikleta. Hinanap ko kung saan ko ito iniwan. Ngunit hindi ko na ito makita. Magtatanong sana ako sa isang bahay nang nasumpungan ko ito. Naroon ito sa loob ng gate ng bahay na pagtatanungan ko sana. Nakita ako ng may-ari ng bahay, Kuya Sander daw ang pangalan niya. Agad niyang inilabas ang aking bisikleta. Laki nang tuwa kong nakitang maayos na ito. Inaayos pala ni Kuya Sander ang aking bisikleta. Labis ang pagpapasalamat ko sa kanya.

Umalis ako sa bahay ni Kuya Sander na may sigla. Gustung-gusto ko nang umuwi.

Pasado alas singko na akong dumating sa bahay. Pumanhik ako. Hinanap ko ang aking ina. Hindi ko pa naibababa ang aking bag, ikinuwento ko na sa kanya ang nangyari. Lumuha siya. Lumuha ako.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

Ateneo Task Force Ondoy… magandang balita. makinig. tingnan. pansinin.

nasalanta man ng bagyo… bagyo din ang dumating at dumarating na tulong mula sa mga kababayan ko.

hagupit ng bagyo, di magandang tanawin… ngunit, sulyap ko ang napakagandang tanawin ng pagkakaisa ng mga kababayan ko.

…walang tigil ang pagdagsa ng mga gustong tumulong… walang tigil ang pagdating ng mga tulong: pagkain, inumin, damit at pera… walang tigil din ang pagdala ng mga ito sa mga biktima ng bagyo…

di ko man naranasan ang iyak ng nawalan… pero naiyak din ako sa bawat tanaw ko ng mga tagaktak ng pawis ng mga libo-libong estudyante na walang batid ang pagod, mapadalhan lang ang mga libo-libong naghihikahos.

salamat o Diyos… salamat.

mamaya… bukas… sa susunod… masasaksihan ko naman ang bagyong magbibigay ng hindi hapis… kundi kagalakan sa puso.

pagkakaisa. pagtutulungan. pagmamahalan.

ito ay tatak PILIPINO.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

He who knows others is wise;

He who knows himself is enlightened.

He who conquers himself is strong.

He who is contented is rich.

He who acts with vigor has will.

He who does not lose his place (with Tao) will endure.

He who dies but does not really perish enjoys long life.

-    Lao Tzu  (Tao-Te Ching #33)   -

Reading this brought me back to a humiliating experience when I was still a novice. As a novice, I had a cloistered life. I just can’t go out anytime I wanted. Besides I didn’t have the money to defray strolling expenses.

At that particular experience, I was so happy because I was allowed to go out to the mall to buy materials needed for our apostolate activity. Two other novices went with me to get their haircut. When we arrived at the mall, we went straight to the barbershop. I left my two other companions there and walked toward the school supplies section of the mall.

I was enjoying the sites inside the mall, watching people passing by, when a guard suddenly approached me and said, “Sir pwede po ba kayong maimbitahan sa office?” (Sir, can we invite you to the office?) I did not hesitate because I thought I won in a promo. I willingly followed the guard. Inside the office, the guard said, “Sir, pasensya na, nakita kase namin kayo na may kinuha sa men’s accessories’ section.” (Sir, sorry about this but we saw that you got something from the men’s accessories section.) I was accused for shoplifting. I was accused for pocketing a belt.

I started to get nervous. I didn’t know what to say. My legs were numbed. Even if the office was fully air-conditioned, I was sweating profusely. I was struggling to stay relax and be still. Of course, I denied the accusation. The manager said, “Sabi mo hindi ka guilty bakit ka pinapawisan?” (You said you are not guilty, but why are you sweating profusely?) I answered, “Sino ba namang hindi pagpawisan sa sitwasyon ko?” (Who would not be sweating in my situation?)

I was detained in the office for almost three hours. It was a torture. It was three hours of mix emotions. I felt nervous, angry, humiliated, and helpless; I felt that I was in prison. Name any emotion that you can think of, I believe I had experienced them altogether in that three hours.

I am sharing this experience because it was an experience that was followed by an experience of freedom. When I was proven not guilty, I felt being set free (indescribable and unforgettable). Trying to put my feelings into words: It was an experience of great relief, like surviving from a very difficult examination. I call it, a wow experience– an experience of liberation– an experience of freedom.

In connection to the Tao-Te Ching, I realized that what followed after the initial feeling of being physically freed was more crucial. When I had proven without a doubt my innocence, I had many options in my mind. First, I could have sued the mall for accusing me of shoplifting. Second, I could have demanded to fire the security guard who detained me. Third,  I could have chosen to simply accept that I was a victim of an honest human mistake, which being imperfect is prone to commit. I thought that the third option was a losers’ choice. However, at that particular instance, I chose the last option.

When the security guard said his apology, I felt his sincerity. I felt that he was trembling and was fearful that he could loose his post. When I looked at him, I said to myself, “He is just doing his job.” At that very moment I forgot my anger from being shamed and humiliated. I can still remember telling the manager that I choose not to sue them and I accept the security guard’s apology. I asked them if they can just let me go because I was hungry and I was late for our vocation rosary. It was only then that they discovered that I am a seminarian. The manager gave me pizza to eat and money to pay for my taxi.

Looking back, I know I did something that does not perish. I did something that is meaningful. And that is more important. I believe that this experience is memorable to the security guard, to the manager and to the staffs who were witnesses to the incident. I don’t know how such experience changed them. But for me, it was an act not out of wisdom, not out of strength nor will, not out of satisfaction and content, but an act out of goodness to others. This makes such action immortal. It continues to fuel me as I continue to live my life pursuing the Good.

When difficult moments come, I just think of this experience and I know it will surely make me smile. This experience happened three years ago, but it was like yesterday whenever I try to relish and savor it. It is a freeing experience when I was found innocent but accepting the apology of the security guard is more liberating.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ –

Habang kumakain po ako ng pandesal kahapon, ang kuwentong ito ang aking naalala. Sinulat ko po ito noong ika-10 ng Enero…

*****

Naglalakad ako palabas ng aming subdivision, aliw na aliw akong pinagmamasdan ang mga pamaskong palamuti. Marami na rin ang nagbago sa paligid. Dalawang taon din bago ako nakauwi matapos pumasok sa Kapisanan ni Hesus.

Sa kanto, may isang Honda CR-V na huminto sa aking tabi. Tinanong ako ng driver, “Saan ka pupunta?” Sumagot naman ako kahit ako ay may pagtataka. Sabi ko, “Sa downtown po.”

“Sakay na,” niyaya ako ng driver.

Hindi pamilyar ang mukha ng driver na nagyayaya sa aking sumakay. Kaya, “Hindi na po,” sagot ko naman agad.

Nagpumilit ang driver at pumayag na rin akong sumakay.

“Kala mo kidnapper ako no?” sabay tawa niyang sinabi ito sa akin.

“Oo nga po,” daglian sagot ko.

Hindi pa natapos ang aking sagot ay agad siyang nagpakilala, “Ako nga pala si Kuya Cesar mo. Hindi mo ako natatandaan kasi huli mo akong nakita noong pito ka pa. Namumukhaan kita kasi ipinakita sa akin ng Papa mo ang retrato mo na nakasutana ka. Biruin mo, matanda na pala ako. Ilang taon ka na nga?”

“Tatlumpung taon na po,” sagot ko. Iniisip ko pa rin kung saan at kelan ko huling nakita ang mamang ito.

Patuloy siyang nagkuwento, “Hindi mo na talaga ako natatandaan. Okey lang yan.”

“Saan po kayo pupunta?” tanong ko.

“Sa mall. Meron kasi akong pwesto dun,” sagot naman niya. “Hindi mo na nga ako natatandaan ano?” dagdag niya sabay ngiti.

Umiling lang ako. Bahagyang napangiti at medyo nahihiya. Pero sabi ko sa isip ko, “Ang yaman yaman naman niya.”

“Natatandaan mo pa ba noong bata ka pa, may mamang nagbebenta ng pandesal sa inyo  tuwing madaling araw. Ako yun,” paliwanag niya.

Biglang lumiwanag ang aking isipan, “Ah, kayo po yung nagbibisekleta. Naalala ko na po. Ikaw lagi ang halimbawa ni Papa sa akin. Bakit hindi ko raw kayo tularan na gumigising ng maaga.”

Ngumiti lang si Kuya Cesar.

Sandaling katahimikan.

“Biruin mo, nagawa ko pala yun. Alas-tres ng umaga akong gumigising. Nagbibisekleta na papuntang bayan para bumili ng mga pandesal na ilalako ko sa lugar natin. Araw-araw kong ginagawa yun… simula noong nag-high school ako hangang sa naging guro ako pagkatapos ng college,” kuwento ni Kuya Cesar.

“Oo nga ho. Dati bisekleta lang ang sasakyan ninyo, ngayon Honda CR-V na,” pabilib na sagot ko.

“Ah ito. Hindi ko nga akalain na makakabili ako nito. Limang taon lang ako sa pagtuturo. Nang nakaipon ako ng pampuhunan, nagnegosyo ako agad. Ganun ulit. Pandesal ulit. Negosyong pandesal lang ang alam ko eh. Pero hindi na ako nagbibisekleta noon. Nakabili na ako ng motorsiklo. Kaya din dumami ang aking mga suki at lumaki na rin ang aking kita. Hanggang sa hindi ko na kayang mag-isang maghatid ng mga pandesal, kaya umupa na ako ng makakatulong sa akin. Nagsimula sa isang motorsiklo, hindi ko na namalayan, meron na pala akong sampung motorsiklo na umiikot tuwing alas-kwatro ng umaga. Naging labinlima. Naging dalawampu’t lima,” manghang manghang nakukwento si Kuya Cesar.

Wala akong masabi kundi, “Wow!”

Ngumiti lang ulit si Kuya Cesar.

“Saan ka nga ulit pupunta?” tanong niya sa akin.

Sabi ko, “Sa downtown po, sa may simbahan.”

“Magsisimba ka?” dagdag na tanong niya.

“Opo. Kayo po? Nakapagsimba na po ba kayo?” sagot ko ay tanong din.

“Oo nakasanayan ko nang magsimba ng Alas-sais. Noon kasi, huli kong dinadalhan ng pandesal ang simbahan sa lugar natin. Kaya, nakakapagsimba rin ako. Araw-araw din yun. Absent lang ako kung tinatamad na,” masayang sagot niya.

“Wala pa po ba kayong sariling pamilya?” usisa ko.

“Meron na. Apat na rin ang anak ko. Panganay ko first year high school na. Minsan, pag hinahatid ko sa eskwela ang anak kong iyon, sabi ko sa sarili na, ‘Ganitong edad ko nang natuto akong kumayod para sa sarili.’ Ang swerte ng mga anak ko. Salamat sa Diyos. Si Ate Helen mo, ang aking magandang asawa, ay nasa mall ngayon. Siya ang nagpapatakbo ng negosyo namin doon.”

Naputol bigla ang usapan namin nang marating namin ang simbahan.

“Dito ka na lang ba talaga?” tanong sa akin ng Kuya Cesar.

“Opo. Maraming salamat po” masayang sagot ko sa kanya.

“Dalhin mo na ito.” sabi niya. Iniabot sa akin ni Kuya Cesar ang isang supot ng pandesal na mainit-init pa.

“Naku. Salamat po sa mga ito. Paborito ko po ito,” pabilib kong sinabi kay Kuya Cesar.

Bitbit ko ang mga pansedal. Pumasok ako sa simbahan na puno ng pagkamangha sa aking narinig na tagumpay. Nakangiti kong sinilip ang mga pandesal. Nagbuntong hininga. Nagdasal at biro ko sa Panginoon, “Panginoon maraming salamat po… Kung lalabas ako ng semenaryo, mag nenegosyo ako. Negosyong Pandesal…”

Napangiti ako.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

Last Saturday my seven brothers in the Society of Jesus were ordained as deacons. I was one of their official photographers. Capturing their moments, zooming in to their expressions of joy made me feel their total self giving to God. They must have experienced many turning points in their lives that strengthened their vocation to the priesthood. I was reminded of one of mine.

July 2006, as part of my novitiate formation, I was assigned at the Philippine General Hospital (PGH) for my month-long hospital exposure. It was a month of an emotional roller coaster. I cried many times in my prayers because of the overwhelming realities about priesthood unfolding before my eyes. They were so difficult to face and accept. I realized that priesthood is never an easy path to take. I still have nine more years in formation. Yet I was invited by the Lord, through my Hospital trial, to start saying goodbye to the many desires of my life. This entails pains and hurts. This means death from within and I have to mourn.

Every week, we were tasked to stay in a particular ward to give pastoral care to patients and their watchers. I was assigned at wards 7, 3, 2 and 9 successively. Each ward had a different impact on my pursuit towards priesthood.

Ward 7. It is a Psychiatric Ward. Before entering the ward, I was caught up by the ideas I saw on televisions. I was expecting the worst scenario. I was expecting loud, rowdy and violent patients. I was asking myself how I can exercise pastoral care to these people who were enjoying their self made fantasies. However, the moment I entered the ward, I was surprised to see a very orderly ward. No shouting patient. The nurses and the doctors were in control of the situation. I was not violently hurt there. What was more surprising was that I was able to talk to some of the patients. They can answer questions sensibly. In my daily conversations with them, I felt that I was able to enter into their lives. As a bonus, I was able to interact with their watchers, the student volunteers, the nurses and the doctors. I enjoyed the daily activities of patients facilitated by the Occupational Therapy students.

In Ward 7, I realized that priesthood is not a fantasy. My life as a priest is not a convenient and comfortable life. Priesthood is a reality of surrender and sacrifice. I have to surrender my desire of getting married, becoming rich and powerful. I have to sacrifice my preferences, my comfort zones to better serve others. Can I live with this kind of life? I know I cannot. But, there is that strength from within that is pushing me to welcome this kind of life.

Ward 3. It is the Internal Medicine Ward. Most of the patients here are in worst and critical condition. Every day was a great ordeal for me to hear the wailing and crying of those who just lost a loved one. Every conversation with diabetic patients, whose legs and thighs were amputated, was tormenting. I cannot help but think of my mother. She has diabetes too. What happened to those patients may happen to my mother too. It was very hard to accept this reality.

Another reality that was shown to me was that I can no longer help my parents, whether physically or financially. I know that my parents are aging and they have no one to take care of them but each other. With the life I have chosen, I cannot be with them. I don’t have the financial capability to help for their hospitalization, either.

I cried many times because I know that what I saw in Ward 3 may also happen to my family. What I can only do is to say prayers of trust, entrusting myself and my family to the Lord. I believe He will take care of us. And if these hard times will come, He will always be there with us.

Ward 2. This is a ward where patients stay before and after operations. In this ward I saw many examples of unconditional love:

• wives uncomplainingly doing their best to take care of their husbands;

• wives tirelessly looking for money to defray medicine and other hospital bills for their husbands;

• parents compassionately suffering with their child’s ordeal;

• children patiently staying at the bedside of their parents;

• strangers freely giving their services to solitary patients.

Everything was Christ-like love. I started getting envious because my desire to have and raise my own family surfaced. Upon reflection, I realized that I have not yet said goodbye to my desire to married life. I put this in prayers and it was hurtful to let go of this desire. Ward 2 reminded me with the reality that priesthood meant saying goodbye to married life. It was hard.

Ward 9. This is a pediatric ward. Every day I saw kids dying from leukemia. Every day, I dreaded facing parents losing a child. Every day I heard the statements:

• May God’s will be done

• May God hear our prayers

• May God continue to provide for us

• May God perform a miracle

Again, for me these were prayers of total trust in God. Every time a sick child hugs me, I was reminded that I am blessed for having a life to live to the fullest. It was difficult for me to see the agony of a child whenever he is pierced with needles of different sizes. My heart was crushed every time I see a child’s veins collapsed from frequent chemotherapy. My mind was tormented with the reality that these children are battling with cancer and the percentage of getting fully well is very slim, not to mention their poverty which limit their access to life saving drugs and procedure. Amidst these miseries, each family I met showed me what it meant to be in total dependence on God.

My experience in PGH showed me the unfairness of the world. Some are enjoying life with abundance while many are suffering from insufficiency. Perhaps, this inequality is a consequence of selfishness. Seeing how poor patients died slowly because they didn’t have enough resources to salvage their health, made me checked my way of living, my lifestyle. I believe I cannot change the world. It is difficult to accept the reality that I cannot anymore give anything except my time and prayer. Material poverty is too big to handle.

But amidst this helplessness, I saw hope. I saw the many people who were giving their time, talent and treasure to somehow give a solution to this seemingly hopeless situation. I was edified by the doctors and nurses who untiringly make their rounds. There was more than one occasion when the doctors and staffs shell off their own money for medicines of patients. There were many volunteers who spent their time with patients who didn’t have watchers. They were doing this for free. There were also donors who just gave money without being acknowledged. These scenes captured the essence of hope and love.

These realities still hurts even now. But, my hospital exposure makes it bearable because of the radiance of hope that my eyes had seen. Such radiance is so bright that it frees my mind from the crippling thought that I cannot do anything about the miseries in the world. There is that strength in my heart that makes me continue to the little things that I am doing for others.

My prayer is that may everyone experience God’s light. May everyone be a bearer of hope and love– His marvellous light.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

Today is the Birthday of Mary, our mother. One of my journey experiences with Mary was our pilgrimage as Jesuit novices. We walked for four and a half days from Bucaue, Bulacan to Manaoag, Pangasinan. Our weapons were our prayer, kapal ng mukha and lakas ng loob. We need to knock on doors to beg for our food and shelter at night. Harvey (my partner) and I only had 500 pesos each, just enough for our bus tickets home.

Harvey and I decided not to divulge our identity as Jesuit novices. When people we met asked us why we were doing it, our ready-made answer was that we were doing a pilgrimage to Our Lady of Manaoag. I took our answer seriously, begging the Lord for me to know Mary more so that I may love her more deeply. I was praying to Mary to protect us and that nothing can harm us or endanger us. We did pray the rosary many times a day. It was my first time to pray to Mary for something that I thought I needed.

During that pilgrimage, Mary pointed out God’s love towards the poor. I have experienced being poor myself and I felt His love that a poor deserves. My entire experience described God’s love as follows:

A CREATIVE LOVE. Every day, Harvey and I would include in our prayers our crazy dreams. And God, in His most creative way, crazily answered them positively.

· RC Cola. This was my crazy dream for our first day. I thought it was crazy because asking even just for a cup of rice seems very difficult. There were no words that came out from my mouth during my first begging. Good thing, Harvey had the courage to ask for rice for our lunch that day. In the heat of the afternoon, Harvey and I were already tired. I dragged myself to a sari sari store and asked for something to eat. The owner, without any interrogation, gave us some biscuits. We were delighted. We sat on a bench in front of the store munching what were given to us. The owner became curious and began asking us questions. And we gave out our ready-made answer. As we finished eating the biscuits, she offered us soft drinks. Lo and behold, she did not give us Pepsi nor Coca cola. She gave us RC Cola.

· Soft bed to sleep. During our first night, we stayed in an unfurnished Barangay Hall with one double sized bed. The bed was not in good condition such that, if one of us moves, the other will be awaken by the creaking sound and the shaking of the bed. We did not have a good sleep. The following day, I told God that my crazy dream was to sleep in a soft bed. True enough on the following night, I had the softest bed to sleep.

· Air-conditioned Room. On our third day, I prayed for an air-conditioned room for a night. On the road, I saw the signage of the National Food Authority. I knew they had air-condition rooms that we can stay. I was excited asking the guard whom to talk to if we wanted to stay there. But, to our disappointment, it was a weekend that there was no one in the office who can decide to let us stay. The guard gave us the direction to their Barangay Captain instead. When knocked on the gate of the Barangay Captain’s house. An old woman who happened to be the mother of the Captain admitted us. However, she had so many questions that our ready-made answer was not enough. We were very careful not the divulge our identity and at the same time not to tell a lie. At first, she was very suspicious. But after an hour of talking to her, she said, “I think you are wonderful people.” She let us in her house. After dinner, she gave us an air-conditioned room for the night.

· A Hotel room. After these favorable experiences, I was teasing Harvey that my crazy dream on the fourth day is to sleep in a hotel room. At 4:30PM that day, the rain started pouring. First, we went to a police station asking for a space to stay. A policeman told us to go to the house of the Barangay Captain. Unfortunately, the Barangay Captain was not around. We were already soaked and slowly losing hope. Our last resort was the nearest parish. We went to the parish and the priest was not around because there was a Christ the King celebration. The caretaker of the parish convent did not let us in. Already desperate, we asked them who they think would accept us for the night. They pointed us to a restaurant. We went there but the owner did not arrive yet. Apparently, she also attended the Christ the King celebration. It was already 8:00PM. Harvey and I requested the waiters to let us stay and wait for the owner to arrive. When the owner arrived, I approached her, I barely began my speech when she offered us her place to stay. When she realized that we have not yet eaten, she gave us food to eat. While having our dinner, out of the blue, she said, “Is it okey with you to be in a hotel instead? Don’t worry. I will pay for it.” Harvey and I were speechless staring at each other. A crazy dream came true; we stayed overnight in a hotel.

A PRODIGAL LOVE. I experienced a God who did not just give us what enough but also some luxury. Such gesture from Him motivated, sustained and inspired me to keep up the long and seemingly endless journey. I described this kind of love as a prodigal love.

· First Breakfast. Our first breakfast as a pilgrim was rice, bread, egg, sausages, two kinds of cheese, coffee with hazel nut flavored creamer and maja blanca. That breakfast was more than enough.

· Purified Water. At San Fernando, Pampanga, we discovered that we could ask water refill from any purifying water stations. Hence, the water that we drunk was purified or distilled. That was more than enough.

· Julie’s Bakeshop. I told Harvey that if we pass by a Julie’s Bakeshop I would not hesitate to ask for bread. It was 4:30AM when we passed by a Julie’s Bakeshop. I did ask for bread. Without any question, the store attendant gave us ten big pandesal. That was luxury.

· Last Dinner. As I mentioned above, a restaurant owner accepted us during our last night. We just found out that the restaurant we accidentally stayed in was the best restaurant in town. That’s why our dinner was a sumptuous banquet. That dinner was more than enough. That was luxury.

This prodigal loving of God is the kind of love that the poor deserves.

Arriving at Manaoag, we attended the mass and the gospel was about the widow who gave her two silver coins to the temple donation box. I was so moved because I saw God in that widow. It was Him saying how much He loves me; how much He loves the poor. Like the widow, God is willing to give even His very life for me. He bears the pain of death just for me to live.

As I look at the statue of Mary, I saw her smiling at me. Her smile was affirming me that God loves me and the world so much.

At the end, I was challenged to love others especially the poor. I know it is difficult. It entails sacrifices. The pilgrimage showed me my limitations, weaknesses and preferences. I saw that God’s standard of loving is too high that I cannot reach that level. In my prayers I told God that I might frustrate Him. But, I also prayed that He will continue to encourage, lead and improve me.

Now, I realized that becoming a Jesuit priest is like a pilgrimage. It is a longer, a much harder journey than my pilgrimage to Manaoag. The difficulty will surely be multiplied twenty times. I am not afraid because I know that along the journey, His love and grace will be twenty times more than what He bestowed during the pilgrimage.

I will continue this journey. I will continue to remain faithful to His call for me. I will continue to discover His love. I will continue to love Him back no matter what… no matter where… no matter how…

All, thanks to Mary, our mother, my mother. She leads me to God’s gentle and extravagant love.

- Jun-G Bargayo, SJ -

A million thanks to mercygrass (a.k.a. sky ortigas) for creating this header for me.

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