Toward a Theology of Peace

This is the first part of the synthesis paper I am writing.

When I was in Grade I, I had a bestfriend named Frederick. He was my “partner-in-crime” in doing all the pranks to our unsuspecting classmates. He was my playmate and seatmate. He was always present in school that is why we were surprised when, one day, he was absent in class. Later that day, we found out that Frederick is dead. He died the previous night during an encounter between the New People’s Army and the army troops of the Philippine Government. He died of multiple gunshots when their house was caught in a crossfire between the two armed parties. He was 7 years old.

Growing up in Isabela, hearing cases like Frederick’s story is a normal phenomenon. Hidden in our forests and mountains are the ideological schools and training grounds of the communist movement. In fact, we also experienced having someone knock on our door, late in the evening, to ask for revolutionary taxes. They also did massive recruitments among the youth. I even remembered one of our classmates proudly showing us a picture of his elder brother, taken from an undisclosed area, toting a high-caliber rifle. On the other hand, military camps and check points are strategically located in every town of our province. They also did regular campaigns in each barangay to show us who the “enemies” are. Guns are like toys to these two groups which they play when they encounter each other. Our fields are their playground.

With these as my background, I wished then, that my friends and I could play safely even at night, that we could sleep soundly without hearing gunshots nearby, and that we would wake up the following day to carry on our daily activities. My childhood experiences made me dream of peace. This desire for peace motivated me to work for peace especially when I joined a non-government organization that focuses on peace advocacy, dialogue, and non-violence.

My work as a peace advocate brought me in various places where I encountered the horrors of war and conflict. At the height of an all-out war against an armed group in Mindanao in 2008, I had the chance to visit an evacuation center in Datu Piang for a peace mission, seeing the civilians’ suffering made me more aware that war displaces people and creates wider animosity between neighbors because war builds suspicion against those who belong to other groups, religions, and cultural affiliations. In 2005, when I was given the opportunity to stay in Pikit, Cotabato, I saw how people carry with them the emotional wounds and psychological trauma brought about by their collective experience of conflict. On the other hand, in early 2008, my encounter with the victims of Khmer Rouge in Cambodia and one of the seven survivors of the notorious Tuol Sleng prison showed me that war can destroy not only a person’s identity but it can also destroy a community’s shared humanity. Indeed, just like what Fr. Bert Layson, OMI, former parish priest of Pikit, said: “in war, the enemy is war itself.”

War can also bring out both the worst and the best in human persons. As I witnessed the worst, I cannot discount that I have also seen the best in people. I saw how many of our unsung heroes in the ground do their share in bridging the gap between conflicting parties. In another interesting case, in a situation of war where men seem to dominate, I met a group of women who very creatively contributed to peacebuilding by depriving their gun-bearing husband of sex until they stop doing their violent ways and start getting involved in the local peace process. I was also inspired by the dedication of countless church workers, religious, and clergy, oftentimes risking their lives, to bear witness to the Gospel and God’s Kingdom. Their selflessness, courage, and fidelity to the message of peace they proclaim made me believe that there is something more to life than doing what I was paid to do as a social worker.

With these various cases of conflict, of human triumphs and defeat, and definitely more, as my background, I found my vocation.

My experience of theological studies challenged me to look back at my experiences then as a peace advocate. During the first few years of my involvement in peace advocacy, I would often ask: where is the church in all these things? Sitting through my class in social teachings of the church, especially through various Papal Encyclicals, I am now convinced that the church has been with us all throughout the suffering of God’s people. True to its calling as the spouse of the Incarnate Word, the Catholic Church, in history, acts prophetically to denounce injustices, violence, oppression, and anything that violates the dignity of human person. “It is unlikely, however, that many would make such a quick association between Catholicism and the notion of social justice. For this reason, Catholic social teaching has often been called our ‘best kept secret.’”[1] Massaro added that “the sharing of this secret has already started in ways that may not be obvious. In fact, many of the laudable social institutions and practices that we take for granted today have their roots in teachings and activities of the Christian community, including the Catholic Church.”[2] In this spirit, I would like to know more the “best kept secret” of the church.

While doing my work as a peace advocate from 2005-2008, I was conscious then that I am a social worker, guided by secular frameworks of peacebuilding; however, our class in the social teachings of the church confronted me with the fact that I could also be a Catholic social worker, a Christian peacebuilder, guided by the principles of the Gospel and the teachings of the Church. The secular framework I have learned taught me how to engage into dialogue, advocacy, and peaceful resolutions of conflict but my Catholic faith urges me to do more. Aside from working towards the absence of war and direct physical conflicts, the Good News of Jesus and the teachings of the Church compel me to work also towards the presence of social mechanisms that would support the growth of each human person in all aspects, promote justice and reconciliation, empower them to work for the same cause, and help them live as the image and likeness of God.

To know better the idea of becoming a “Catholic social worker, and a Christian peacebuilder,” I would like gear towards coming up with a “Theology of Peace” so I can start integrating what I have learned as a social worker into my faith as a Catholic and in my life as a religious. I hope, too, that doing so will help me to be more effective in my future ministries as an Assumptionist. In my attempt to come up with a Theology of Peace, I would like to use the principles stated in the encyclical “Pacem in Terris” by John XXIII vis-a-vis the teachings of the Church. Using “Pacem in Terris” as guide may have its own limitation since it was written in its own time with a different social milieu but I believe, many principles stated in this encyclical are timeless since these were anchored in the Gospel message.

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[1] Thomas Massaro, SJ, Living Justice: Catholic Social Teaching in Action (Wisconsin: Sheed and Ward, 2000), 13.

[2] Ibid., 14.

Discovering Vatican II through the Tridentine Mass

In one of the films that we have seen in class, what struck me most was a line uttered by a priest who said “we are a Vatican II people, many may not be aware of it, but most of the things that we do as a Church were the results of the Second Vatican Council.” Attending the Latin Mass in Our Lady of Victories Parish made me more convinced of this; I realized all the more that the way we worship, our manner of seeing the Church and its people, our attitude towards the world, and even the way we do theology at present are all brought about by the fruits of the Second Vatican Council.

I attended the mass on January 1, 2012 at 9:00am; I initially do not know what to do when I arrived in the church since that was my first time to visit Our Lady of Victories, more so, attend a Tridentine Mass. Upon reaching the church, I noticed that some people were lining up towards its entrance, with me not knowing exactly what to do and afraid that people might take offense on my unfamiliarity of the rite if I ask questions, I also joined the queue thinking that maybe it is a line for people doing a required prayer before entering the church. But when I saw some people going inside the church without joining the line, that was the time that I tried to see where the line would lead me, and then I realized that the line leads to a confessional box so I immediately went off the line and proceeded inside the church. I believe that this initial encounter of mine symbolizes my lack of awareness of my spiritual heritage as a catholic who has been initiated to the faith in the spirit of Vatican II. I came to the church with a mentality of openness, not even thinking that it is a schismatic community nor with a superiority complex in reference to my being in full communion with the Catholic Church; in this case, my visit to this traditionalist parish felt like a journey to my past which allowed me to understand our church today and appreciate more and more the Spirit that moved the council initiated by Pope John XXIII.

Upon entering the Our Lady of Vitories church, I felt the atmosphere of solemnity which is sometimes lacking in our own church. It was also easy to be at prayer because of the condition of the place.The general demeanor of the people present that day as well as their manner of dressing up reminded me that I am indeed in a Holy Place. The priest in full regalia and altar servers in inticately designed surplice, together with their calculated moves, give me an impression of the dignity and sanctity of the liturgy we were celebrating.

The first difference that I have noticed when we were about to start the mass was the announcement that we are celebrating the “Circumcision of the Lord” that day  instead of the January 1 liturgical celebration which I know as the “Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God” and our church’s “World Day of Peace.” I experienced more confusions when we started with the mass because I do not know even the basics such as when to stand up, sit, or kneel down so I ended up being always on guard, observing intently the people seated in the pew in front of me. I was also impressed by the fact that quite a number of young people are present and they know exactly the responses and the songs in Latin. But some people continued to do their private devotions, especially the rosary, while the mass is going on; on the other hand, a large number of the congregation, including me, was silent all throughout the mass because they simply do not know what the responses are. My moment of curiosity came to its peak during the consecration, when the priest turned his back to the congregation and started to say the silent prayers. I tried hard to see what he was doing but unfortunately I was not able to do so. I would have wanted to see how the consecration in the Tridentine Mass was being done, specifically the rubrics, but all I saw was the back of the priest and some of his hand movements while holding the vessels.

What I liked the most in my experience attending the mass in Our Lady of Victories church was the homily delivered by Father Alain-Marc Nely, the First Assistant to the Superior General of the Society of Saint Pius X. I listened carefully to him because that was the only part of the mass delivered in English, thus, the only part which I understood. He started his homily by greeting the congregation with “Holy New Year” instead of saying “Happy New Year.” He continued with his discourse explaining that holy new year is the more appropriate greeting because holiness comes before our happiness. He also said that our happiness depends much on the way we live a holy life and that our joy, to be genuine, must be anchored in the Lord. In a way, I can say that his homily reflects much my experience attending the Tridentine Mass – its emphasis on the things which are holy. I believe that this can serve as a challenge to us, especially when in the church, most of our church-goers fail to recognize that our church is God’s temple and that all of us are called to holiness.

When I read the “Weekly Bulletin” of the church, a newsletter containing the liturgy of the day and some announcements, my attention was caught by this statement: “we must double and triple our prayers and efforts to make our nation more and more agreeable to the Sacred Heart of Jesus, the King of the Philippines during this year.” For me, this statement gives an image of a God who needs to be appeased by our own capacity to make amends, it also tends to focus much on human effort rather that the grace of God, his mercy and his gratuitous acts.

Another line from the “Weekly Bulletin” made me uncomfortable because it claimed that “the council of Vatican II devastated the Church. New Masses teaches secretly that the Mass is no longer for God but mainly for men, primarily for their entertainment. The worldly spirit penetrated into the Catholic souls, even priests and bishops, and they are astray. They try to seek an impossible union between the spirit of the Gospel and that of the world.”

This statement made me ask: how do they see us? I may not have an exact answer to this question yet but my experience in Our Lady of Victories convinced me that the Spirit that moved the Vatican II was right in making our liturgy more meaningful to the faithful. Although I am aware that Vatican II is not perfect, it is not a one-shot solution to all our questions as a church  and that there were also abuses in the liturgy done after the council, I still go by the fact that Vatican II gave way to a renewed expression of our faith without digressing to the ideals and creed we uphold.  Personally, I can say that Vatican II unveiled the beauty of God and the Church to the humanity today so that together with St. Augustine we can recognize clearly this “beauty ever ancient and ever new.” By using the vernacular and making the mass inculturated in our own context, I have understood better the meaning of the Word made flesh and dwelt amongst us. I believe more in the God who lovingly makes himself accesible to his people and a church who expresses that its people’s joys, hopes, fears and anxieties are also its own. I ended my new year’s day with a mass in our own rite and i told myself: welcome home!