An Alien Christmas

After being let down by another dusty homily at Christmas day Mass, let me share a Christmas thought that I would have given for a homily.

Just like an increasing number of people in an increasingly globalized world, I am celebrating Christmas in the country where I work, away from home and family. But regardless of where one is, or who you are with or are not with, Christmas shouldn’t feel anything less. Even as I am away from family and friends, strangely, I don’t feel alone.

Here’s the reason: Last weekend, amidst the throng of shoppers during the Christmas rush, I had an epiphany: all that activity was driven by a desire to express and celebrate a kind of goodness that transcends the everyday because, well, that is the spirit of the season. And I realized that, even if I didn’t share their culture or religion, I shared the ideal. That made me feel not alone; I felt very much that I am — as we all are — part of a larger family that shares that same desire — to embody goodness, no matter that life (i.e., work, bosses, finances, etc.) makes it painfully difficult at times. To me, that is the most concrete and relevant manifestation of what John’s Gospel for today means: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” And that’s why even in these times of great global problems and cynicism, it’s hard not to hope. If only because we see how ordinary people make a sincere effort to embody and live out goodness no matter the circumstances.

Have a meaningful Christmas everyone.

“The Last Journey of Ninoy” — A Review

I was among those who had the privilege of watching the August 21 premiere of “The Last Journey of Ninoy” at Rockwell. Before seeing the movie, I viewed the trailer on youtube. To be very honest, I had some qualms about how good my movie experience would be when I realized that recreated footage featuring actors were shot for the movie. Then again, it presents itself as a movie, not a documentary. My misgivings stemmed from the fact that the subject is very close to our hearts, and the emotions are quite fresh, especially with the recent passing of Cory. It might be difficult for any Filipino to take a step back and exhibit restraint. And restraint, to begin with, is not an attribute typically associated with Filipinos.

To my surprise, relief, and appreciation, the handling of the movie exhibits sensitive restraint. Hats off to Jun Reyes, and to his pool of writers, as well. From a filmmaking standpoint, the movie is actually interesting. Much of it (or, at least, the impression it gave me) consists of documentary footage and still photos, interspersed with Cory’s last interview, and threaded together by the recreated footage. And it works! It’s seamless, and it flows. As a movie experience, it is both absorbing and moving. The heart and the power of the movie reside in the storytelling. And that is where, I think, the movie really succeeds. Much of the storytelling is done by Ninoy and Cory. A lesser director would probably have succumbed to the temptation of devising some ingenious, artsy treatment to tell the story and put a signature stamp on the movie. Thankfully, the director is very smart and very much secure in his own abilities and didn’t feel the need to make a statement. Instead, he let Ninoy and Cory tell their own story, in their own words. As a result, it gives the movie its heart, its authenticity, its credibility, and its soul. Quite remarkably, you see the documentary footage you’ve seen countless times before, but now, you feel differently about them because you’re seeing them from a different perspective.

Beyond the storytelling, perhaps the movie’s greatest significance is how it gives the viewer insights into the character of real, earnest leaders. Maybe – hopefully – it guides and inspires us in the way we choose the leaders we elect. It’s amazing what Ninoy and Cory showed us: Real leadership and genuine service have very little to do with power or the pursuit of it. Very thought provoking. Very inspiring. But also very depressing when one looks at the current crop of political aspirants.

Go see the movie. “The Last Journey of Ninoy” will be shown at Cinema 4 of Glorietta 4. Below is the screening schedule:

August 29, Saturday – 11:00 AM & 12:20 PM

August 30, Sunday – 11:00 AM & 12:20 PM

August 31, Monday – 11:00 AM & 12:20 PM

Tickets go for P150 each. Proceeds will be donated in full to the programs of Ninoy and Cory through the Benigno S. Aquino Jr. Foundation (BSAF).

Cory Aquino — What A Failure

The sluices of heaven opened, and heavy rains poured down. Below it, as if in a battle of wills, mere mortals also steadfastly poured out their love for a much beloved Cory Aquino. On this day, heaven could not compete with mortals who would not back down from their desire to give an earnest send-off to someone who has given so much.

The more the loss sinks in, the more it proves so true – we weep for ourselves, not for the departed. Paano na tayo?

As I heard the fitting tributes, I was worried as much as I was touched. I was worried at how people, unable to adequately express their gratitude, readily promoted Cory from former President to hero. I was worried that people, feeling how even that doesn’t suffice, seemed ready to elevate her to near-sainthood and possibly lobby for her canonization. I was worried that people, in their earnest belief that Cory is in heaven, would start praying for her intercession rather than take up the work left behind. I was worried because this syndrome uncannily resembles what happens in a lot of Filipino households — one does all the work as provider, while the rest, misunderstanding Milton, probably feel that they also serve who just stand and wait. I was worried that Cory was being glorified so much that we would end up seemingly very different from her; someone we couldn’t become.

What did Cory accomplish to deserve the day she’s had?

As I reflect on Cory’s life, it’s not difficult to see how failures dogged her every step of the way. Her marriage to Ninoy – that could hardly have been marital bliss. I read somewhere before that happy couples, typically, don’t make a lot of noise; they’re content to keep to each other, blending into the backdrop of life. That’s probably why we have an expression in the vernacular, lumagay sa tahimik. Cory’s married life certainly wasn’t that. She failed to blend into life’s backdrop. As a parent – the way children turn out, I imagine, is a good barometer of parenting. Noynoy, up to this time, has not shown strong indication that he’ll live up to his parents’ legacy. And Kris, well, we’ve all witnessed her wash dirty laundry in public. In Cory’s defense, she was practically a single parent under duress. Still, failings are failings. As a President – her administration was riddled with seven coup attempts. And as most of her administration’s energies, it seems, were spent quelling them, there was not much else left to live up to the exceedingly high expectations for her transition government. Even after her Presidency, she stayed involved and exhorted President Arroyo to step down. Even in that, she didn’t succeed.

Without meaning to be disrespectful or contentious, Cory, in many ways, was a failure. I look around, and I see so many other Filipinos – failures like her. I don’t need to look far; I see one in the mirror every waking day. But what ‘s amazing and inspiring about Cory is what she managed to become, even as a failure: the Philippines’ – and Asia’s – first woman President. And she did it by toppling and politically castrating an intelligent, cunning dictator who was the most dominant figure in Philippine politics. She earned Time magazine’s nod for Woman of the Year in 1986. The erstwhile housewife also got a standing ovation for eloquently representing us before the US Congress. She made us proud to be Filipinos again, and it was timely, too. For our favorite glory-days claim to being second only to Japan in standing at some point in our past happened too long ago, that we’re not even certain it wasn’t just a myth. Moreover, apart from numerous honorary degrees bestowed upon Cory, she was nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize. One can only sigh in admiration of what a failure she was. She showed us how one could fail in so many things, yet succeed in greater things. If we could be the kind of failure that she was, by God, imagine where we could take this country! What amazed me the most about Cory was her indifference to the Presidency and all its trappings. That’s the kind of leader you can trust with power. What worries me is that there is not one among all the current aspirants to power who seems to possess that indifference.

As a people, we’ve come full circle: in 1983, we buried Ninoy in solidarity and defiance; almost exactly 26 years later, we’ve laid Cory to rest in unabashed love. Things have, indeed, changed, but they also haven’t. After two dead Aquinos, what have we learned? What have we got to show as a nation? And the question persists: Paano na tayo?

While we have an appreciation of how one person can move mountains, we haven’t shown an understanding of how one person’s efforts alone still cannot suffice – whether it’s a national leader trying to get a nation to get its shit together or a breadwinner providing for an extended family saddled with mga palamunin. Maybe, that’s part of the reason why we suck at team sports. It’s much easier to rally behind a Manny Pacquiao or an Efren “Bata” Reyes rather than to put in the kind of work they do to be like them. Whether it’s nation building, team sports, or family, everybody needs to pull his weight. The prospect of failure should neither be an excuse nor a deterrent. And we only need to look at Cory and her life as inspiration and guidance. There, I’m reminded of a prayer I stumbled upon in my previous life as a Jesuit seminarian.

I asked God for strength, that I might achieve.

I was made weak, that I might learn humbly to obey.

I asked for health, that I might do greater things.

I was given infirmity, that I might do better things.

I asked for riches, that I might be happy.

I was given poverty that I might be wise.

I asked for power, that I might have the praise of men.

I was given weakness, that I might feel the need of God.

I asked for all things, that I might enjoy life.

I was given life, that I might enjoy all things.

I got nothing that I asked for—but everything I had hoped for.

Almost despite myself, my unspoken prayers were answered.

I am, among all men, most richly blessed.

Perhaps, it is fitting that Elie Wiesel’s words – he, a Holocaust survivor, who was ultimately awarded the Nobel Peace Prize when Cory was nominated – would sum up the essence of Cory’s life and contribution: “There are victories of the soul and spirit. Sometimes, even if you lose, you win.”

F1 Crash, Colon Cancer, And Sunday Mornings

Over the weekend, a few unrelated events found interconnections within my head: (1) Felipe Massa’s freak accident at the Hungarian Grand Prix; (2) Cory Aquino’s battle with colon cancer; and (3) Sunday morning Mass in Glorietta.

A spring similar to what hit Formula One driver Felipe Massa.

For those who are not into sports or motor racing, Felipe Massa is a Formula 1 driver for the Scuderia Ferrari team. He suffered a freak accident when a suspension spring came off from a car way in front of his and hit him in the head at roughly 350 km/h. He momentarily lost consciousness, crashed into the tire barrier, and was promptly airlifted to a nearby hospital. He suffered a fractured skull (even with a state-of-the-art protective helmet). As a footnote, Massa came within split seconds of becoming world champion last year; now, it’s not even certain if he can race in Formula 1 ever again.

Then there’s Cory Aquino, who suffers from colon cancer. What a life she’s had – or had to endure! Years as wife of a political prisoner, then unceremoniously thrown into the political ring after her husband’s assassination, and having had to overcome multiple coup attempts to her administration. And let’s not forget – she’s had to play Kris Aquino’s mom in real life all these years! Only a really rotten person, it would seem, deserves such a raw deal on life. And she seems, at the very least, a decent well-meaning person.

This brings me to my third point: the Sunday Mass I attended in Glorietta. Here’s the thing: I’ve come to the point where I tune out the priest when he gives the homily, more popularly referred to as the sermon. But last Sunday, I found myself actually open to hearing what the priest had to say. Maybe, it was because of the equanimity with which the priest delivered his piece. (I’ve noticed that Filipino priests, especially when there’s a large audience, tend to be bombastic, theatrical, and very preachy.) I didn’t pick up what he said due to the poor sound system and acoustics. (Or Divine Providence perhaps?) But I came away with an insight.

I think priests would do much better if, instead of having a view to preach, they sought to inspire. I know I’d rather be inspired rather than be preached to. I have a feeling most people would feel the same way. When a person spends the entire work week listening to and following what bosses, clients, and customers tell him, the last thing he needs is a preacher giving him a sermon on what he should do – on a day of rest, at that. Besides, I have a problem when a man in a frock preaches from his pulpit to a layperson who probably knows more about life: the former doesn’t need to worry where his next meal will come from and never has to pay taxes, while the latter labors for his family in places that hardly resemble the Lord’s vineyard and then pays for taxes that rarely redound to their benefit. With all the inanities and tribulations an ordinary person goes through week in, week out, a few words of inspiration on a Sunday morning would be nicely appreciated.

The experiences of Felipe Massa and Cory Aquino recall a line from Woody Allen’s “Crimes and Misdemeanors”: “Events unfold so unpredictably, so unfairly, human happiness does not seem to be included in the design of creation.” When such occurrences confront us, we find ourselves needing a lift – something, anything to help us keep on track. The doctor can heal the body; I expect a man of the cloth to help heal the soul. And that’s where sermon and inspiration are worlds apart: the former connotes talking down to someone from a position of superiority (perceived or otherwise), while the latter helps someone transcend this rough-and-tumble existence towards something exalted. If only priests sought to inspire rather than preach, they would have earned their free meals and given deeper meaning to their tax-free existence. And they probably would increase their collections, as well. Hmmm, that’s a marketing strategy for priests right there!

You’re gonna hear from me!

INFJ ruminating

Just what the world needs — another blog! (Joey and Chette would have to be liable to the world for broaching the idea with me and Marco for guiding me through it.)

This blog isn’t intended to take on a particular subject or topic. It’s about anything that I have strong opinions on. (And there are a few — travel, sports, music, culture, religion, faith, and stupid people, among others.) Despite the name, this blog’s reason for being is not to deliberately take a contrary stance for its own sake; I seem to do that effortlessly. Hopefully, this blog does not become a magnet for negativity. That’s not the purpose of nor the spirit behind this blog. It’s just a venue for the opinion of one person (an INFJ, incidentally). It may not always be in concurrence with others’ opinions; then again, there lies its value or novelty. At the very least, one consolation readers (if any, apart from Joey) can have is that opinions that I express are typically thought through. That is not to say, however, that some won’t find them offensive, insensitive, in bad taste, or what not.

This is beginning to feel like writing the scope and limitations of a thesis. I would think that isn’t cool. And I want to be cool! Why did you think I’m keeping a blog?