A homecoming Christmas
Christmas is always special, but this year’s celebration will be extra special because, at least for my family, it will be a homecoming of sorts.
Our celebration has yet to take place as I write this, but already I am filled with anticipation. We’re all “coming home,” to the site of the family house in Cubao, where we did much of our growing up. The property was bought from us siblings by my oldest brother Nono, but since his passing his widow Soc had relocated to a condo unit in Makati. In the past few months, though, she slowly refurbished the place and has invited all of us back to hold our Christmas get-together there.
Of course, memories will be part of the fare the whole time we will be in Cubao. Memories of childhood celebrations, of Christmas with our parents, of Christmases past when our children were but babies, then frolicking toddlers, then naughty tykes, then sullen teeners. Now, some of them have become parents, lugging along their own babies. The generations come together, mix and meld, trading remembrances and rehashing old jokes and teasing jibes.
Not among us will be our daughter Miya, who is in New York for her master’s in journalism at CUNY, the City University of New York. But on Christmas she is joining family, too, flying all the way to San Diego where my sister Chona and her family are based. It will be a reunion all over again, as the Cruz family has just come from the country to attend my nephew Jami’s wedding. I’m sure part of the proceedings will be the trading of pasalubong from home. Among Miya’s bilin from here: a copy of the latest edition of “Trese,” the wildly successful graphic novel series that chronicles the Filipino underworld. I am intrigued at the thought of aswang and tikbalang reminding my daughter of home, even as she struggles to survive real-life muggers in the streets of Manhattan.
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Also badly missing home are the homeowners of Talayan Village in southern Metro Manila.
They are missing their “spiritual” home, their village chapel where for many years now their “little chapel” has hosted the Misa de Aguinaldo or Christmas Eve Mass.
On the evening of Dec. 24 each year, I am told, the chapel is filled with about 400 people who fill the interiors and even spill out into the nearby streets, hearing Mass and then heading home for the Noche Buena feast. Talayan Village is “overpopulated” on this day, as visitors from all over descend on it to celebrate Christmas with family members who live there.
And so, the recent decision of the San Pedro Bautista parish priest, Fr. Edwin Dionisio, disallowing the holding of the Misa de Aguinaldo in the village chapels and “centralizing” it in the main parish church, has dismayed not just homeowners in Talayan and neighboring villages, but also their relatives and friends who had come to count on the Mass in the village chapel as part of their Christmas traditions.
A “great howl” greeted this edict, I am told, as parishioners only heard about it as the decision had been reached without any prior consultation. Some wrote a heartfelt letter to Father Edwin, who is new in this assignment, but the reply was a cold “It’s been decided,” with the assistant pastor explaining that not even the bishop or the Pope could do anything about it.
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After reading my column “Faith not the structure,” about how Archbishop Soc Villegas had assured the faithful in Bohol and Leyte and Samar and other places visited by disasters that it mattered little that they would be attending Simbang Gabi amid the ruins of their churches since it was their faith that mattered, residents of Talayan wondered if their plight would catch my attention.
It certainly has.
One Talayan resident asks plaintively: “Why are they so hard, why not give in to the clamor of the people to have Holy Mass? Is it such a sacrilegious request? Why be so hard?” Forcing the faithful to troop all the way to the main parish church for the Misa de Aguinaldo also has its practical and logistical challenges, for one. The church cannot obviously physically accommodate the thousands of Mass-goers on this important feast. There obviously won’t be enough seats, so what about disabled senior citizens who cannot find the room for them to worship?
Parishioners suspect the motive for the “centralization” of the Christmas Eve worship boils down to money, speculating that the new pastor may have wanted to corner all the collections, as his fund drives throughout the year have shown a propensity for milking his parishioners at every opportunity. (Is it a mere accident that Father Edwin has supposedly earned the nickname Father Gatas (Milk)?)
Well, in the spirit of Christmas, I certainly hope not. What is money, after all, compared to the other values of the season–family, togetherness, spirituality, generosity, love? Peace to everyone, and goodwill to the parish priest and the villagers of Talayan!
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And to you, dear readers, have a Merry Christmas, too!
The year about to pass has not been a really merry one for us Filipinos. A countdown of the many disasters that have befallen us astounds by their sheer number and the frequency with which they have occurred. Already, words like “resilience,” “bravery,” “courage,” “generosity” and “faith” have been bandied about with so much frequency and so repetitively that they have ceased to hold meaning.
But today, if not on any other day, we must recover the meaning of these words, and the heart that lies at their meaning. We who trade in words are often humbled by what they represent. So I close with no words of my own, but simply pray for you all in my heart.
