The closest I got to Sin was on the day he presided over my confirmation (and that of my sister Mary Mae) at the Assumption Convent chapel in Iloilo City. I think I was in second or third grade and he was then known as Monsignor Sin, who was then based in Iloilo. During our confirmation, we got a ceremonial pat on the cheek from a chubby bishop with smiling eyes and after the ceremonies, my classmates and I playfully boasted: "Sinampal tayo ni Monsignor Sin, ha ha ha." It was like a rite of passage.
Aside from that one close encounter, I only knew and saw the Cardinal from the perspective of most Filipinos – from a distance. We looked up to him from the pews, as he celebrated Mass on the altar and stood in the pulpit; or from amongst the throngs at EDSA as he stood above the sea of humanity to rally us to the cause of freedom. He was our shepherd on earth and we were his sheep looking at him for direction. And always, always, we would look up at him and to him.
And how he bridged the distance between shepherd and flock! Once, after saying Mass at the UP Chapel, he told us who were in the pews, "When you go home tonight, tell your children, your parents, your lolos and your lolas, that Cardinal Sin loves them."
By speaking out against the Marcos dictatorship (despite the fact that no less than First Lady Imelda Marcos herself attended his installation in 1976 as Archbishop of Manila at the Manila Cathedral) and the corruption in the Estrada presidency, Sin showed that he cared for Filipinos not only from a distance. His concern about the plight of those who were oppressed (including those who were oppressed not just by poverty but by political systems) wasn’t just lip service. He dared to speak out, and his voice was like a current that recharged a populace. His exhortations emboldened his flock into expressing their will, giving them the courage to go to EDSA in 1986 and 2001. Before that, only UP activists dared march against the government! But at EDSA, there were housewives, teenagers, tycoons and socialites as well. Many of those who went to EDSA took courage and comfort in the thought that, "If a priest says it’s okay to go, then it must be okay." We needed more than the Cardinal’s "consent" – we found strength in his encouragement.
"It took the Catholic Church (in the Philippines) almost five centuries before its ultra-conservative doors opened and out came fresh gusts of wind and a priest who held a liberal spear, and took to the barricades against entrenched government power. If Macaulay’s traveler from outer space dropped on the Philippines, he would have little difficulty spotting this priest…"
Even if heaven were crowded with saints, I daresay, it wouldn’t be difficult to spot Cardinal Sin up there, either.
Dear Joanne,
Thank you for your wonderful column about the "Little Things." I can relate to your recent ankle accident so well.
Last April, during my annual vacation with family in the States, and a day before I was scheduled to fly back to my hectic work life in Manila, I got the chicken pox! It was the most frustrating thing in the world for me, with work and deadlines waiting for me back here. I felt the wrath of God during the first few days when I was "quarantined" in my sister’s home.
During my long two-week quarantine, I soon realized how God can be so good in timing these little trials in our lives. My 10-year-old took good care of me (thankfully she had the vaccine) and cooked all my meals, (amazing since my daughter cannot even boil water); my two sisters doted on me, and lavished me with books, DVDs, oatmeal jacuzzi baths and tender loving care. I gorged on TiVo, indulging shamelessly on Law and Order and CSI. My husband, who stayed home in Manila, had to manage the household while my work just had to wait for me.
Now, whenever I see the tiny pock mark on my forehead, a lasting souvenir of my two-week isolation, I simply remember how truly masterful is He who is the ultimate architect of our destiny. Perhaps, there are no "little" or "great" things in life, just interludes that make it more interesting. They say life is like an old train ride; most of the time it’s bumpy, noisy and full of smoke, occasionally interspersed by breathtaking panoramas and vistas. The secret to enjoying it is to just be thankful for the ride!
Warm regards and more power to your column.
Curie Espaldon
Malate, Manila
I especially liked your column last June 16 since I can relate to your experience. I, too, had a metatarsal fracture in 1989 and had to be in a cast from my right foot up to half of my leg.
For an active mom like myself, this could have been a tragedy. I managed a business (still do), was an avid golfer, and walked almost every morning for my exercise. You see, this could have been a cause for depression and never-ending complaints.
However, I vowed to myself that I will not be a burden to my family and would make something positive out of this accident.
Being a child of a Chinese father and a Filipina mother, it has been my dream to be able to learn and speak Chinese but have always been postponing it.
Then, this accident happened. Since I couldn’t go around like I used to, I decided to hire a Chinese teacher to come to my office twice a week to teach me the language. I invited two friends to join me for the sessions and we really had a lot of fun.
When I recall my days in my cast and crutches, I don’t remember it as a misfortune but an awakening. You learn to appreciate small things like being quiet in your little corner, being able to write friends you have not written to in a while, and the love and attention your family showers you but have always taken for granted.
Thank you for your inspiring and entertaining column.
My best regards,
Elita Yu Pacho
Makati City