The Conversion of St. Paul

Today is the birthday of a lady who could have been appropriately named Paula, after the feast of the Conversion of St. Paul, which we also celebrate today.  

Saul of Tarsus was on the road to Damascus with marching orders to persecute Christians.  The graphic story of his falling from his horse is so well known that it does not do much to tell it again.  Conversion is just an event.  Sanctity is a lifetime activity.

 

He assumed the name Paul after his conversion, and spent the rest of his life as an apostle of Christ.  His first mission was with Barnabas, going on board to Cyprus, crossing the island from east to west following the southern coast.  The second mission was to Antioch, where his companion was Silas, another Roman citizen like himself.  A third mission was to Ephesus where Aquila and Priscilla were waiting.

St. Paul’s many references to the life and teachings of Christ suggests that he knew so much even if he was not present during the public life of Jesus.  Truly, the road to Damascus is much more than St. Paul  falling from his horse.

The Santo Niño in the Philippines

While the rest of the world commemorates today the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time, the Philippines differs a bit. The Pearl of the Orient was given by the Holy See some special treatment to celebrate this day as the Feast of the Sto. Niño instead. This is all thanks to the centuries-old devotion of us Filipinos to the Child Jesus.

The Sto. Niño preserves the influence of the spanish era in the Philippines.  The Sto. Niño is otherwise called the "Holy Child" by the American religious orders that followed the colonization by the United States.  here are some American pieces that the Christian Brothers taught together with the Catechism of Christian Doctrine.

CHILD S MORNING HYMN

Jesus, teach me how to pray,
Send distractions far away,
Suffer not my thoughts to stray,
Sweet Holy Child.

Let me not be rude or wild,
Make me humble, meek, and mild,
Pure as angels undefiled,
Sweet Holy Child.

When I work or when I play,
Be Thou with me through the day,
Teach me what to do and say,
Sweet Holy Child.

Make me love Thy Mother blest,
Safe beneath her care to rest,
As a bird within its nest,
Sweet Holy Child.

When the hour of death is nigh,
May Mary, Joseph, standing by,
Take me in their arms to die,
Sweet Holy Child.

So through all eternity
Will I bless their charity
Who first led my steps to Thee,
Sweet Holv Child

HEART OF THE HOLY CHILD

Heart of the Holy Child
Hide me in Thee ;
Purest and undefiled,
Purify me ;
Joy of my infant life,
Far from evil passions rife,
Troubling this world of strife,
Keep me with Thee!

Sweet Child of Bethlehem,
Open Thine heart;
Lessons from Nazareth
Deign to impart.
Mary and Joseph dear,
Let us be to Jesus near,
With you, we shall not fear
From Him to part.

PHOTO: Sto. Niño  Jesus de Praga

If carabaos can fly

I read an entry from the poet Marjorie Evasco at the University of Iowa. I am inspired by the intimacy between father and daughter, stranded along a dusty road in a bus load of people and farm products.  Noticing the 10 year old's agitation of having to wait for a much needed tire repair from who knows how far the nearest tire shop was, the father brings the  to a knoll.  

“From this lookout point, the rice in the paddies were ready for harvesting.  ‘Watch,’ my father instructed, pointing to a pond where two carabaos were cooling off. Suddenly, my father clapped his hands, and as if by magic, a flock of white birds flew out of the water behind the clump of cogon grass. The birds circled and took my heart with them as they flew away.  ‘Herons,’ my father named them. They were perfect in flight, and as the child I was, I must have associated beauty with motion.”  

Dr. Evasco shares with the 2002 IWP participants,  “I must also have associated magic with the way the hands can call forth things, and the way names can fix in memory a moment of transient wonder. Many summers hence, far from my family and away from the island of Bohol, I began to learn the language of flight, dream and memory I now call poetry.”

As I see it, the two carabaos stayed in the wallow, undisturbed by the spectacular show that dominated the sky. There were more important things for these beasts.  They wallow in the mud, stuffing as much sludge that will insulate them from the sun. And when the master calls, back to work they go. They are akin to laborers making the most of a fifteen minute coffee break.  Perhaps carabaos did not appeal to a ten year old then.

“I believe that once a poem is written, the poet can become invisible again until the next urging to sing the rattlesnake, grasshopper, centipede, cow dung or Buddha.” Dr. Evasco concludes “For the making of a poem is an eccentric act of faith that both the conjured up thing and the living presence of the world will someday awaken in another person's body of memories and dreams.”

Cow Dung?

The Gentlemen in Quiapo

When January comes, I get to recall this rather simple  incident.  There was this poem called “The Gentleman of Ten” espousing certain values to young boys in grade three.   At dismissal time came, just before the prayers at the end of the class, the students were rather unruly so the teacher, Mr. Maximo Ronquillo  sarcastically says “Where are the Gentlemen of ten?” 

A clever “In Quiapo,” retorts a rolly polly boy stuffing his school books in his bag.

“Okay gentleman in Quiapo, stay after class” asserts  Mr. Ronquillo, a disciplinarian and a Philippine Scout veteran of World War II.

The gentleman in Quiapo was the late Jose Leonardo Inoturan, later a Dean at the College of St. Benilde and affectionately called “Sir Pepe” by his students. 

This anecdote has created such an impression on me, not because Pepe is a likeable fellow nor because Mr. Ronquillo is a teacher one does not forget, but because Quiapo is a personification of Manileños.  January to Manileños, brings that celebrated event where thousands of devotees to the Black Nazarene endure to carry the image in procession, perhaps to fulfill a solemn promise.  Many attribute cures, favors and miracles to the Black Nazarene even if the church hierarcy has not bothered to evaluate and verify any of these claims.

The devotees have a term for joining the procession: "Isasalang" a tagalog term ananalogous to "Ordeal by fire."  Devotees equate this tribulation as a process of one's own purification.  Is this a superstitious practice or is this akin to various practices of corporal mortification practiced by saints?  The devotees represent a diaspora of the population, from civil society, movie stars to drivers, workers and yes, criminals. Many are awed by this public display of devotion, yet there are those who censure it as a tumultuous worthless event.

In the last analysis, there are probably nosaints in the Black Nazarene procession.  After all, it was Jesus of Nazareth who said "I came not to call the just, but sinners to penance." (Lk:5:32) 

Sir Pepe, you are right.  The gentlemen are in Quiapo.

The Girl That I Marry

Irving Berlin llived to be a hundred.  One hundred and one, to be precise, and all those years he wrote more than 800 songs; Alexander’s Rag Time Band, God Bless America, and White Christmas, to name a few.  Less noticed in Berlin's portfolio is a beautiful song of love and marriage from the musicale Annie Get your Gun. 

The girl that I marry will have to be

As soft and as pink as a nursery

The girl I call my own

Will wear satin and laces and smell of cologne

Her nails will be polished

And in her hair she'll wear a gardenia

And I'll be there

Instead of flittin', I'll be sittin'

Next to her I'm cheerful like a kitten

A doll I can carry,

The girl that I marry must be.

Instead of flittin', I'll be sittin'

Next to her I'm cheerful like a kitten

A doll I can carry,

The girl that I marry must be

PHOTO by Andy961: WSHS Theatre Presents Annie Get Your Gun "An Old Fashioned Wedding" Act II  Scene 2

Marciano de Jesus Noble

Marciano de Jesus Noble was born on May 24, 1876.  His parents, Petronilo Noble and Barbara de Jesus had two other daughters: one died while she was still young.  The surviving sister was  Isidra who lived  to see his brother raise a family of four girls.  One of these girls was my mother She taught me to hail my grandfather as Lelong Ciano whose faintest recollection I have not retained as he died when I was only one year old.

I became fond of the grandfather that I never really had, thanks to the little stories my mother taught me,   She tells me that Lelong Ciano was concerned about the atrocities that would ensue when the Americans try to win back Manila from the Japanese. His anxieties caused his untimely death on January 4, 1945, just one month before the American liberation forces and the Japanese defenders launched the Battle for Manila.

Five days after Lelong's death, Gen. Kruegger landing at Red Beach in Lingayen,  rushed the Sixth Army towards Manila. From the south, the 11th Airborne Division landed at Nasugbu  followed by paratroopers of the 511th Regimental Combat Team jumping over Tagaytay Ridge, advanced northward.  The Japanese were trapped in Manila.

It was the worst urban warfare in the Pacific Theater of the war. The family of the late Marciano Noble, her widow and four daughters, a son-in-law and a one year old grandson, had to fend for themselves amidst the atrocities of war.  Manila one of the most devastated city of World War II, second only to Warsaw.

A marker at Anda Street near General Luna Street in Intramuros reads:  “This monument is erected in memory of the more than 100,000 defenseless civilians who were killed during the Battle for the Liberation of Manila between February 3 and March 3,1945. They were mainly victims of heinous acts perpetrated by the Japanese Imperial Forces and the casualties of the heavy artillery barrage by the American Forces. The Battle for Manila at the end of World War II was one of the most brutal episode in the history of Asia and the Pacific. The non-combatant victims of that tragic battle will remain forever in the hearts and minds of the Filipino people.”

PHOTO: Memorare-Manila, 1945, Courtesy of Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Do Carabaos Eat Grass?

To prove that carabaos eat grass, we have to realize that we cannot prove this with certainty unless we make an inventory of all the carabaos.  Then and only then can we arrive at the conclusion that carabaos do eat grass.  That is deductive reasoning.

On the other hand, there is inductive reasoning, wherein we resort to a contrary proposition that "carabaos do not eat grass".  This we can easily disprove once we find enough carabaos who eat grass.  We do so with the hope that failing to prove the contrary proposition, we can then accept the original proposition that yes, indeed carabaos do eat grass.

I owe this experiment to Fr.Conor Donnelly, an Irish priest who has doctorates in medicine, sacred theology and who knows, he may have earned another degree at Strathmore University.  Anyhow, he says that in Batangas, he observes a carabao and with that observation, he concludes that the Batangas carabao eats grass.  Moving north to Alabang, he observes another carabao and with that, he is convinced that the Alabang carabao also eats grass. Finally, he goes to Bulacan to observe another Carabao.

Now, I don't know how the good priest got to Bulacan, since his sphere of operation was north of Manila.  Perhaps he was on his way to preach a retreat in Baguio.  Or perhaps he was using a stratified random sampling approach to the experiment.  Incidentally,  statisticians are more likely to call this exercise as "test of hypothesis" and the original proposition of "carabaos eat grass" is referred to as the alternate hypothesis. 

Why we call it alternate when it is the original hypothesis is just a distraction, so don't try to understand it.  After getting immersed in hypothesis testing, you will one day understand it clearly.  It's not a matter of divine revelation; educators call it experiential learning and there you are, we have drifted too far from the purpose of this post.

And so, lo and behold, the Bulacan carabao does eat grass.  Never mind if he chews the grass longer than his southern compatriots.  The important thing now is that we can reject the null hypothesis (oh yes, that's what it's called) that "carabaos do no eat grass."  If  we reject "carabaos do not eat grass", then any fool can plainly see that we have to accept the alternate hypothesis (it's the original proposition, remember?) that "carabaos eat grass".