MY ‘IMPERFECT MOTHER’
“Why Eli Nar Jr.?” some FB friends would ask me. Well, Eli stands for my late father (+Elias Sr), Nar is my mother (Genara) and Jr (Junior) for myself – the way I was called at home way back then. I just wanted to carry their names in my own (name).
In my previous post, I shared about my father and our heavenly FATHER called ‘STUPID’ by no less than our President. Now, allow me to complete this reflection by sharing about my mother and our Mother CHURCH, mocked repeatedly by the same President.
My mother is imperfect, if there is such thing as a ‘perfect mother’. She only finished her fourth grade in the elementary because of war and poverty. In fact, she may not understand this post because she only knows a few English words. Although, she recites some Latin and Spanish prayers like ‘ORA PRO NOBIS’ and the famous ‘ALABADO’ (because it signals the end of the long novena and the start of the much awaited free snacks or meal, depending on the occasion), she does not understand all these supplications, nor pronounce them as they should (be pronounced). But it matters not to her nor to the bereaved family members of the departed loved ones whom my mother prayed for constantly.
After years of hard work and tribulations, her forehead is now covered with wrinkles. After two operations on a fractured hipbone, she no longer looks like the once strong mother that breastfed eight children with only milkmaid, boiled rice and fish as the primary sources of her nutrients, the mother who sold rice cakes day after day (except on Sundays) under rain and heat just to help make both ends meet, and the mother who prayed (and continues to pray even if I miss it) the rosary every single night.
My Church is no different. She is imperfect and she does not hide this reality. In Latin, we say ‘Ecclesia semper refomanda’, that is, a Church that is always in need of reform and conversion. Albeit imperfect, she is my mother and I am her son who is equally imperfect. She baptized me through the hands of a priest who I did not even know and thereby accepting me as her own beyond personal merits. She taught me through the catechists, who worked ‘gratis et amore’, the basic tenets of faith. Through the Holy Spirit Sisters, she instilled values and hope in me that God has a lot in store for each one of us, notwithstanding our unworthy selves. Through the Claretian Missionaries, she sent my younger sister to college so that somebody could provide for my parents in their twilight years.
She formed me through the help of my formators and theology professors and ordained me as her minister when I was found ready. As a parish priest, I saw the Church in my volunteer catechists and lay leaders walking for hours from the mountains just to reach the parish for their ongoing formation and tirelessly walking back to their homes. I also experienced her in my parishioners who would understand me even if my homilies at times were boring and when my impatience and lack of understanding would get the better of me at one time or another. And I saw her mutilated when my brother priests: Fr. Marcelito Paez, Fr. Mark Ventura and Fr. Richmond Nilo, were brutally murdered, not to mention Fr. Rhoel Gallardo, CMF, my companion in the seminary who suffered the same fate in 2000, in Basilan. I also see her in the person of Pope Francis who washes the feet of Christians and non-Christians alike on Good Thursdays on bended knees, even if it is difficult for him to do so given his condition.
My mother Church is not perfect, but I am just happy because In that way I could belong and relate to her in the same way that I belong and relate to my mother. Indeed, I can draw a longer list of imperfections, but God is not done with us yet. Jesus called Peter and the other apostles not because they were morally perfect, but because the HOLY SPIRIT will guide this imperfect Church in spite of the failings of her leaders. It is very easy to condemn in a general way not knowing that we also malign ourselves every time we speak ill of the Church for we are indeed the Church, a family bound together by a common priesthood and the same call to holiness. It is tempting to denounce on the basis of our personal negative experience of a priest or a sister, unmindful of the countless bishops, secular priests, consecrated persons and lay leaders who struggle every single day to remain faithful to their vocation and mission, while putting their lives on the line.
Thus, the moment we are tempted to laugh or to keep silent when the President, or any person for that matter, mocks our Church, we think kindly of our mother who gave us life and the Church who gave us faith. When everything is said and done, the fact remains that the Catholic Church remains the biggest charitable institution in the world and no amount of mockery and persecution can destroy her foundation laid by JESUS CHRIST. And when I do this reflection, it is not so much to defend my mother (because the truth can speak for itself) as much as to defend my being a son.
“Semel catholicus, semper catholicus”. (Once a Catholic, always a Catholic.)
(FR. ELIAS AYUBAN, CMF)
