Never mind bragging about our newspaper’s achievements, as everybody expects on such commemorative occasions. There are already too many "Good Morning Myself" articles and speeches circulating in this country, the homeland indeed of hyperbole and amor propio. We’d just like to say, once more, Thank You, dear Readers and Friends for giving us your attention and support. And Thanks to God – this is not an afterthought – for His blessings, not just on all of us but on our land.
As for the motto on our masthead, plagiarized from the Bible, allow me to refer to what Boris Pasternak, the author of Dr. Zhivago, said: "In every generation there has to be some fool who will speak the truth as he sees it." I hope that we fools in this newspaper have been courageous and consistent enough to speak the truth as we’ve seen it.
In our country, we always tend to be melodramatic. This is an era of professional pessimism. We constantly remind ourselves and each other that we are living "in the worst of times," that our leaders, bureaucracy and judiciary are corrupt, that many of our people wish to leave the Philippines to seek a better life elsewhere, that criminality is on the rise.
Last Friday, I met the new Japanese Ambassador Kojiro Takano, a very impressive gentleman who is as articulate in French (he had studied in Poitiers) as he is in English, and has served his government all over the world, from Paris to Belgrade to Riyadh and other capitals. He asked me what I believed to be the future of the Philippines. I was tempted to reply, "Very good," but since the Japanese are known to be more respectful of the understatement, I answered that the Filipino people, being resilient, patient and capable of great endurance, would surmount their present difficulties.
And this is true. For we are inured to suffering and disappointment (some others see this as a shortcoming and not a virtue), and always – our saving grace – hopeful of tomorrow. At unexpected moments, too, we manage to win through. This is the belief to which our newspaper remains dedicated.
Finally, we are people of faith. There are many enough in our Republic – where every creed is respected (as well as the rights of those who respect no God) – who adhere to Islam. But we are by far a predominantly and proudly Christian nation. This is not new: the Catholic faith was brought here almost four centuries ago.
This faith of ours is manifested in many ways, sometimes eccentric. I just read a book, The Next Christendom, subtitled The Coming of Global Christianity (Oxford University Press, Oxford, New York, 2002) by Philip Jenkins. Professor Jenkins, who teaches History and Religious Studies at Penn State University, has authored several books, including Hidden Gospels, Pedophiles and Priests, and Mystics and Messiahs.
In his latest opus, he writes: "Although they have received far less attention in the West . . . Catholic charismatic organizations may well be more influential in the long run. One striking example is the El Shaddai movement in the Philippines, which takes its name from a Hebrew term for the face of God. However much this wildly successful group looks like a classic Pentecostal church, it is firmly rooted within Roman Catholicism. It is in fact a lay charismatic group designed to combat Protestant penetration in the Philippines. Protestants currently comprise around eight percent of what was historically an overwhelmingly Catholic nation, and there are surging Pentecostal groups like the Jesus is Lord movement. In this case, though, the reforms have met their match.
"El Shaddai was founded in 1984 by Brother Mike Velarde, who looks and behaves like a US mega-star televangelist. The group’s meetings, hundreds of thousands strong, look like nothing so much as a 1960s rock festival. Audiences are predominantly women, but many whole families are in evidence. As in Pentecostal churches, there is a firm belief in God’s direct intervention in everyday life, which different observers interpret in different ways. Some see this belief as a childlike faith in the divine presence, while for others, the new groups are teaching a crass materialism. El Shaddai followers raise their passports to be blessed at services, to ensure that they will get the visas they need to work overseas. Many open umbrellas and turn them upside down as a symbolic way of catching the rich material blessings they expect to receive from on high . . . The movement probably has seven million members across the Philippines, making them a potent political force, and it also has the nucleus for a truly global presence. The large army of expatriate Filipino workers worldwide permits El Shaddai to operate congregations or chapters in over twenty-five countries, including the United States and Canada, most nations in Western Europe, and the Persian Gulf region."
Jenkins adds, however, that "occasional warnings about the group’s possible excesses show that the Philippine Catholic hierarchy does not see El Shaddai as an unmixed boon . . . (but) one way or another, inside a Catholic Church or outside it, Third World Christianity is becoming steadily more Pentecostal."
The author concludes his book with the assurance that "whether we look backward or forward in history, we can see that time and again, Christianity demonstrates a breathtaking ability to transform weakness into strength."
The reason for my over-long quotation from this fascinating new book is now self-evident. Like the "Christianity" Jenkins describes, we Filipinos have always demonstrated the strange ability to transform weakness into strength. At least, the zany brand of Christianity we practice has the capacity, I’m convinced, to make God smile.
The STAR, in our coming 17th year, will continue to soldier on, firm in our faith in the Filipino and his destiny.
We confirm our confidence in democracy – even the chaotic type of democracy we’re plagued with in our archipelago. I remember India’s late Prime Minister, the great Jawaharlal Nehru, whom I interviewed in his official residence in Tin Murti (Delhi) shortly after the Chinese invasion of Ladakh had dealt the Indian Army an embarrassing blow. Already the shadow of death was on Pandit Nehru’s face (he was to succumb less than a year later). He admitted to the folly of his government’s naive policy of "peaceful co-existence" with China – as only great men can own up, despite temptation to vanity, to their mistakes. "I learned the painful lesson," he remarked, "that before one can co-exist, one must first be strong."
Yet his faith in the triumph of democracy never wavered, although, typically, it was tinged with realism, even cynicism. He would assert: "Democracy is good. I say this because other systems are worse."
Amen.
Another admirable man, a preacher whose sermons and homilies always inspire, is the Rev. Robert Schuller of the Crystal Cathedral of Los Angeles. (My wife, Precious, frequently goes there for his sermons and to secure videos, tapes, and books of his essays and homilies).
In one of his sermons, he recounted: "Someone once said to me, ‘Reverend Schuller, I hope you live to see all your dreams fulfilled.’ I replied, ‘I hope not, because if I live and all my dreams are fulfilled, I’m dead.’ It’s unfulfilled dreams that keep you alive."
In this light, it is our intent in our newspaper, to quest for, to pursue, those unfulfilled, and perhaps impossible dreams.