Humbling, and embarrassing

I was finalizing my article for this week and was hoping to submit it well within my deadline. Before I could do so, however, I received a strange message from a co-worker of a favorite advocacy who was in France for both business and a wedding. For over 15 years, many French college students have found their way to volunteer in the Philippines. The relationship between university students from France and our NGO has expanded in many ways, including our work being made a course accredited by some French universities.

The message I received was unusual because it was not directly related to work. It was a short report on a visit to a French Catholic cathedral, the Basilica of St. Therese of Lisieux. It was his first time to visit the basilica, probably to attend mass, and it was a big surprise for him to see a huge mural-like painting on one side that depicted the 1986 EDSA People Power Revolution. The painting was also framed in what obviously was a reference to the Philippine flag.

My friend said he was surprised, then humbled. In that famous Basilica dedicated to Sainte-Therese, Lisieux, there is nothing there that is primarily secular or political. After all, the Basilica is the second most visited religious site in France, next only to Lourdes. For Filipinos to be the subject of a major painting inside the Basilica was unique and awesome. Apparently, the EDSA People Power Revolution was considered less political than an actual religious miracle by the Carmelite Order in charge of the Basilica. Also, I am sure, by the authorities of the Catholic Church in French.

Surprised, then humbled. As a Filipino, he had every reason to feel that way. Why wouldn’t a Filipino be proud to be the first to oust a dictator and plunderer through a spontaneous, peaceful attempt to stop rebel soldiers from being massacred by a vastly superior military force? Civilians were a human shield to a small rebel group holed out in two military camps, civilians who for over a decade were resentful and fearful of the same military personnel they were now protecting.

It must have been the major role played by a cardinal of the Church who asked Filipinos to protect the rebels from the rest of the military. Additionally, it must have been the sight of nuns praying the rosary joining, even leading, the multitude of ordinary Filipinos who responded to the cardinal’s appeal. Considering everything – the moment of history when only violence could succeed against violent regimes, when hundreds of thousands who found their way to EDSA hardly knew others outside of their own family and friends, when flowers and rosaries became more powerful than tanks and machine guns – those four days in EDSA had to have divine intervention.

Today, a major painting is immortalizing that miraculous peaceful revolution in a major Basilica in Lisieux, France. Sainte-Therese is revered as the patron saint of florists, among others, and EDSA was defined by flowers as much as rosaries. That the Philippines has a deep history with the Carmelite Order is another relationship that binds the miracle of Filipinos at EDSA and the Basilica of Sainte-Therese, Lisieux. Of course, Filipinos can be proud – we were enormously so. Standing inside the great Basilica in Lisieux, Filipinos can be humbled at how they were admired and honored.

It felt like I was prodded to write something about the EDSA People Power Revolution because I had to receive that message just before I could submit the original article meant for this week’s column. I might be overthinking coincidences, or I might have needed an urgent relief from the incidents of shame that Filipinos have recently been feeling. In a matter of days, many Filipinos have had to live with shocking and shameful developments.

The first was the choice of a presidential adviser who had just been disbarred by the Supreme Court – for acts and actuation not fitting a noble profession. The second is the controversy of a tourism video that included scenes of beautiful places belonging to other countries. These two developments were humbling (in the embarrassing sense), depicting the opposite of what is beautiful and noble in our race and culture.

I needed to feel humbled in the admiration of others to counter how other people and nations would be regarding us from the recent controversies. I know that many other Filipinos need to feel reassured that all is not lost, that decency and honor and unique creativity remain as great natural virtues that we strive for. A simple message about a Basilica, a painting, a flag, a peaceful revolution, and a miracle has been perfect for wounded souls.

EDSA 1986 was 37 years ago. Many have forgotten. Many were not even born there. But Filipino pride is not a thing of the past. It is our birthright – if we claim it. And claiming it is simply to live in decency, honesty, and service to others or bayanihan.

In like manner, Filipino shame has had many occasions in the past. Our history has had many betrayals where greed or ego became more important than patriotism or the common good. Our history points to local leaders who chose to earn wealth and prestige from our foreign masters rather than protect their fellow Filipinos. And as we make history today, we continue to see turncoats and traitors exploit the innocent – and idolized for doing so.

We have seen the best and the worst in ourselves. Every day, we have opportunity after opportunity to be the best we can be, or the worst. That is our challenge as citizens with the duty to be responsible, accountable, and, if possible, to go beyond our interests to help those in great need among our people.

It is never easy to pursue virtue. It is a daily struggle. But is living in shame truly an option?