Do not be ashamed to be seen praying. Prayer is witnessing to your faith.

- Dan Quetulio Brizuela

"The truth is absolutely humbling." 

- Dan Quetulio Brizuela

FAITH AND A FAMILY HERITAGE

Yesterday, October 4,  Santo Domingo Church in Quezon City was declared a National Cultural Treasure by the National Museaum. It is a fitting salvo as today marks the 60^th anniversary of the blessing of its cornerstone.  The original church was in Intramuros build in the mid-16^th century. Unfortunately, it was ravaged during World War II. The Dominicans started building the new church in 1952. Titled as the National Shrine of the Queen of the Most Holy Rosary of the Philippines by the CBCP, this church enshrines the 419 year-old image of Nuestra Señora del Santissimo Rosario more popularly known as La Naval de Manila.  

I share the pride, both as a certified “Batang Kyusi” (colloquial name for a native of Quezon City) and as a devotee of Our Lady of La naval. My grandparents, Florencio and Julia Quetulio, had settled in this area in the early 1940’s. It was hardly a strange place for them since either of their relatives belongs to the same community. My mother, aunts and uncles, all eight of them, where born and raised in this place. I myself was born and lived here for 25 years. Our ancestral home, partly destroyed by typhoon “Milenyo” in 2007, still stands to witness the unfolding of the generations.

The devotion to Our Lady of La Naval was passed-down to us by our grandparents, particularly my Lola. She being a true Manileña had long been a devotee even at the old Santo Domingo Church in Intramuros. She was even a Guardia de Honor de Maria. It was short of coincidence that the new church was built within the place she had her family.

As a child, I had never seen such a large structure as Santo Domingo Church. This was long before there was SM Mall of Asia or Robinson’s. Yet, we hear mass more often at our local parish church of San Pedro Bautista (with its antiquity and equally grand history), going a kilometre to this church is always exciting. I would wander alone, but often with a chaperone, to the side chapel just to take a glimpse of the La Naval.  I couldn’t take my eyes off the image. It was so stunning and regal. Her image matched those depicted in fairy tales. This icon of Mary may have stirred my senses too eagerly that even now, I am captivated by the images of royalty and depiction of pageantry.

I remembered sneaking beside my mother praying in our dimly lit room.  I snatched the tiny image of St. Anthony of Padua from her. She retrieved the image without annoyance and handed to me, in exchange, the photo of the La Naval in an old wooden frame. I was in my own reverie as I stared at the image unperturbed by the tears in my mother’s eyes.  I was too innocent then to care about my mom’s troubles as she continued her prayers.   

It dawned too soon however that life was no fairy tale. I lost innocence upon the realization of family brokenness. Sarcasm had taken away my sense of awe. In my youth I was confounded by personal strife. I searched for answers to life’s questions. I tried new thoughts and ventured in different belief. Yet nothing can suffice for my longing. I remembered a friend who introduced me to the Born Again movement. We were then young at 18. At the funeral wake of my grandmother, he asked me, “Saan kaya pupunta ang lola mo?” (Where will the soul of your grandmother go?). He was obviously insinuating about my grandmother being unsaved and damned to hell for being a Catholic. The audacity! What does he know about my lola?! What an insensitive question to a friend in grief! I was dumbfounded. I was too depressed to argue. But it was a turning point. Two more years since, I rediscovered my faith.  A mystical experience one afternoon at Santo Domingo Church led me back to the faith of my grandparents and carried me through the hardest times. God does indeed work in mysterious ways.

This is my 21^st year to make the novena despite the distance from my residence here in Pasay City to Quezon City. I had lived through the heckle of the cynics and in silence vanquished the inquisition of the fundamentalists Christians (a.k.a. Protestants).  I still get assailed by other denominations in networking sites for being a Marian devotee. Withstanding the absurdity of it all, I chose to ignore these. It is not my fault that they can’t comprehend. Afterall, I don’t owe anyone an explanation. It is between me and my God. As it was said, “To those who don’t believe no explanation is ever enough. To those who believe no explanation is necessary.” Only those who had personally experienced the wonders of Mary’s intercession can fully grasp the theology behind this Divine design.  

While La Naval is primarily about faith, personally this is also about upholding family tradition and values. This is about returning to my roots and reaffirms my sense of belonging to the community. Moreover, it is a time for me to reflect at my past and gives me a moment to recapture childhood awe. Truly, “Not unless you become little children, you will not enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3) 

It is not important even if there is but a few in our generation who would continue this solemn vow. My cousins had either left for abroad or had become too sophisticated for this. It is but comforting to know that at least two of us still regard this tradition. It is further encouraging to know that even from far away some miss that familiar experience. My cousin’s first question to me last weekend was to confirm my attendance to the novenas. She is based in London and this is now the third year she is absent from the festivities. It must be difficult on her being a foreign and alone in a strange place. Moreover, having lost her mom (my aunt), who had gone ahead just more than a year ago, had a greater impact on missing the La Naval.  Before we tearfully signed off, I promised to bring her prayers to the Virgin. For her and other relatives everywhere, in memory of our grandparents and family members gone before us, I make the solemn novenas to rekindle family unity through prayer. This is our heritage. This is our faith. And nothing can be as absolute as that. 

PRAISE THE LORD FOR BEING BORN

The LORD called me from birth,

from my mother's womb he gave me my name.

He made of me a sharp-edged sword

and concealed me in the shadow of his arm.

He made me a polished arrow,

in his quiver he hid me.

Though I thought I had toiled in vain,

and for nothing, uselessly, spent my strength,

yet my reward is with the LORD,

my recompense is with my God.

   

                                 - ISAIAH 49:1-2,4

Thank You, Lord for another year of life

I couldn't have done anything without You

Please forgive me for my faults,

for the failures and the shortcomings I had.

I pray for better understanding of Your Will

to be able to do my purpose.

May I ask for blessing in my work

so to continue to be self-sufficient.

Bless my family with harmony and peace 

Guide my friends most specially

those who are facing difficulties.

And may You grant me the grace to become

a blessing to every person I meet.

I offer this birthday prayer

through the Name of Jesus, our Lord.

Amen.

Mary, our Mother of Perpetual Help,

Pray for us.

Saint Ireneus, Bishop and Martyr

Pray for us.

WHO IS OUR PERPETUAL HELP?

A very short but very meaningful reflection in honoring Our Mother of Perpetual Help on her feast today.

MARY is the Mother of Perpetual Help

MARY is the Mother of JESUS

Therefore, JESUS is Our Perpetual Help

Let us invoke:

Our Mother of Perpetual Help, Pray for us.

Loving Mother Help us!

Jesus, save us!

20 YEARS OF PERSONAL DEVOTION TO OUR LADY OF LA NAVAL (1991-2011)

It was a hot afternoon in the summer, early May, of 1991 when I found myself sitting alone in a pew by the side chapel of Santo Domingo Church where our Lady of La Naval is enshrined. I was then young at 20, fresh from the university but uncertain of the future. Wanting to please my father, I was forced to take a course that disinterests me. He wanted me to continue on to graduate school to be a doctor while my potentials are geared for something else. Moreover, I was bitter over my family’s brokenness and ashamed of its repercussions.

As I sat there, I thought back. I could not remember when was the last time I’ve been to this church considering it was about less than two kilometers away from where I live in Frisco, Quezon City. I then realized how long I was away from the Church; not only this particular church but from the Catholic Church. My years in a secular university had turned me away from my Catholic up-bringing and sectarian education until high school. Religion and spirituality took a back-seat in my first two years of college. I was later caught in the fad of the “born-again” movement and joined a fundamentalist Christian church. It was strange and so unfamiliar yet I bore it because I was eager to be different. I belong to a new religion with popular and modern rituals so unlike the outdated traditions of Catholicism. Yet, there was still emptiness within me. It confounded to the confusion of how faith would work to bring some sense to my life characterized by dysfunctional relationships and economic insecurity.

All these thoughts were racing at random in my mind as I sat transfixed on the beautiful icon of our Lady that I began to talk to her. I felt no guilt while it was considered idolatry by any “born-again” Christian to do so. I was fully aware that it was the unseen spirit represented by the icon, not the icon itself, I was speaking to. Even if I was unsure of any divine presence at that moment, I asked for our Lady’s intercession to assure me that God is listening. In my doubts, I asked for a sign.

Instantly, the bright sunny day began to darkened and covered with clouds. Rain then suddenly poured down with thunder and lighting. It was almost a mystical experience for me. As the rain poured, so were my tears. I never cried in public before and felt unashamed that I had done so. Even still there were only a handful of us in the church that hour.

For the first time in years, I managed to pray the words of the “Hail Mary” in gratitude to her. It was the ultimate act of ‘backsliding’ from being a “born again”. The prayer nonetheless came so natural to me. I then remembered that it was among the first set of Catholic prayers I learned as a child taught by my late grandmother. Back then, I used to mumble meaninglessly the words while supposing to pray the rosary. But at that moment, I uttered it with full understanding and prayed it with the heart. Punctuating the words I prayed, “Pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death, Amen.”

The rains stopped abruptly shortly after. I was ready to leave feeling inspired. Despite the uncertainty, I was hopeful. As I was walking pass the sea of empty pews leading to the front door, I saw a familiar person somberly sitting alone. I knew him to be my batchmate in college. We were in the same course. I knew him better in face but his name escaped my memory. I didn’t bother to stop to even acknowledge him. It would be awkward since we were mere acquaintance in class. I knew he felt the same way. We just gave each other that knowing glance and I went on my way.

I was admitted to the College of Medicine the following month. Coincidentally, it was in a school named after the title of Mary, Our Lady of Fatima. There I was surprised to see the familiar person I saw that faithful afternoon in Santo Domingo Church. He later confirmed that we were indeed there at the same time. He confessed to me about how badly he wanted to get into Medicine despite facing a personal difficulty. By Divine Providence he was admitted. We were supportive as classmates could be for a year. But that was as far as we got. We didn’t continue on exactly as friends when we later had to move on separately.

My classmate is now a surgeon. In fact, I recently saw him on TV. He is a volunteer of an organization devoted to repairing cleft-lips and open palates of those who cannot afford. He was literally bringing smiles most especially on children’s faces. It was commendable of him to lend his expertise to the less fortunate. I believe afterall, God had called him to this endeavor on that miraculous afternoon at Santo Domingo Church 20 years ago. Truly, “nothing is impossible with God.” (Luke 1:37).

As for me, I did not become a doctor. I eventually dropped-out of Med School after two more years. Financial constraints took its hardest blow when my father had renal failure that I had to give-up my study. My father died on October 8, 1998 during the La Naval novenas. I am now in a low-key, unprestigious career. And I still work hard to earn a living.

So, what then was La Naval’s miracle in my behalf?

Theologians shall surely agree if I say that to have regained my Catholic faith and to be brought back to its fold through Mary’s intercession was the greater miracle. Because of my devotion to La Naval, I was inspired to practice the religion I was brought into. But more than just expressing a religion and being ritualistic, I have realized that faith has to be lived.

I had both good and bad weather in life for the past 20 years as a La Naval devotee. By my devotion to her throughout the years since 1991, my faith in God never wavered. I was saved from self-destruction in every personal tragedy I encountered. I could have been easily blown away by the storms such as the terminal illness of my father to his eventual death; frustrations, work dilemmas and shattering interpersonal relationships, if not for our Lady who was perpetually at prayer with me.

Like Mary’s response to God’s divine will, “I am the handmaid of the Lord, be it done to me according to thy word.” (Luke 1:38), I have learned how to come to terms with those beyond my control and let God take over. My devotion encourages me to battle the raging tide of doubt and disbelief. It inspires me to hope amidst the strife of life and be not afraid of the future even with meager resources because I have more than I need-- I have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ and the constant intercession of our Lady of La Naval.

I know it was not mere coincidence that my classmate and I were in that particular church, at a specified time, in a precise area. I believe there are no accidents in matters of faith. Coincidence is God’s way of making us recognize His message to us. He uses time, place, things and people around us to coincide with each other to catch our attention; to make us realize that He speaks to us in daily events. We just have to adhere to His words and follow as Mary instructs, “Do whatever He tells you.” (John 2:5). Our Lady undoubtedly is conspiring with the Lord all of the time.

GOD SENDS LITTLE ANGELS

“Hi Danny, actually I am not suppose to open my facebook, Therese and I made a pledge that I will abstain from facebook for the holyweek and she will not watch tv" : )

This was the actual intro of a friend’s e-mail to me recently about him and his daughter keeping the Lenten observance. I find it wonderful that father and daughter are brought together in a common act of faith.

Another friend, a mom, announces her daughter’s upcoming 1st Holy Communion in FB and the experiences (and excitement, too!) in preparing for the event. As prerequisite, the candidate for Holy Communion has to go through the Sacrament of Reconciliation or commonly known as confession. I find it amusing that her daughter had to ask about what she confessed about. We as adults may be wise enough not to disclose; be too embarrassed to admit or perhaps totally forgotten the experience of our own 1st confession. But in the candid innocence of children, vulnerable as they are, we are somewhat faced with the reality of our own vulnerability as adults.

As my friends and their families had migrated to the U.S. to seek the proverbial greener pasture, I observed that they have not lost the Filipino part of them. Keeping their link to the Catholic Church is a way of upholding their Filipino identity readily perpetuated to their children. It is ironic that Filipinos become more fervent in their faith when they go to lands where Catholics are a minority.

I learned that the Catholic Church in the U.S. encourages parents to be involved in their children’s spiritual formation. I find it strange that here in the Philippines (where Catholicism is the denominational majority) children are sent to church unaccompanied by parents or are left in the care of parish volunteers engaged in the children’s ministry. Here candidates for 1st Holy Communion attends Cathecism classes alone unlike in California where my friends had to attend with their children. And because of this, they were able to recapture the familiar experience of faith.

I commend my friends for bringing-up their children to the church as their parents before them. I am proud of them for looking-out for their children’s spiritual welfare. It is afterall very parent’s duty to raise their children believing in an Almighty God. In the Gospel, “little children were brought to Jesus so that he should put his hands on them, and pray. But the disciples scold them. But Jesus said to them, ‘Let not the little children suffer and forbid them not to come to me for such is the kingdom of heaven.’ And he laid his hands on them and blessed them.” Matthew 19:14-15

Moreover, religious exercises give the opportunity to every parent to get in touch with their own spirituality courtesy of the innocent interest of their children. To satisfy each child’s curiosity, parents become more attentive to what they otherwise had not given much thought about because life is too busy to ponder on.

I admit, despite my being a “practicing” Catholic, I am far from being the perfect model of Christianity. While I veered more towards religion, I claim not to be an authority on spirituality. But just like any adult, my time are most likely to be spend on things of consequence such as making a living, keeping relations and engaged in intellectual pursuits. Our adult sophistication and cunning as a result of acquired education and tested experiences had somehow altered the way we see religion and matters of faith.

It is truly timeless novelty to witness the milestones in the life of every child particularly those that initiates them to the folds of the faith. More than just a rite of passage for them, it becomes a source of renewal for their parents. Through the innocence of children we can indeed learn so much as adults. I can say at this point that our children are God’s little angels send to us adults to once again be like them. Hence, “When the disciples came to Jesus and asked him,’Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ Then Jesus called a little child in the midst of them and said, ‘I assure you that unless you change and become little children, you cannot enter the kingdom of heaven, and whoever receives a child in my name receives me.” Matthew 18:1-5

May you all have an inspiring and blessed Holy Week.