While relaxing at my parents-in-law's home in Cebu,
my wife requested me to read a newspaper article that I found to be disturbing,
disheartening, disappointing, and maybe even portending the way that the
Catholic Church is going to exert its power in Mindanao and the Philippines in
general. The title of this article, printed in the June 3rd edition of
the Philippine Daily Inquirer (pages D1 and D2, LifeStyle Arts & Books) and
written by reporter Mozart Pastrano, is "Commercialization Threatens Historic
Mindanao Church Plaza." Specifically, the article states that the
Archdiocese of Ozamiz wants to cut down the ancient acacia trees that line the
front and sides of the Parish of the Holy Rosary in Oroquieta City, Misamis
Occidental, Mindanao, in order to give way to build a commercial zone that will
include a Jollibee fast food restaurant and a First Valley Bank.
According to the Daily Inquirer article, Archbishop Jesus A. Dosado has given
the Holy Rosary parish an ultimatum: give the Archdiocese of Ozamis
P50,000 per month, or the archdiocese will cut down the acacia trees in front
of the church and sell the church grounds to profit from Jollibee and the bank.
The reason for this demand for money is to cover the medical costs of
priests (many who are elderly or nearly elderly) in the archdiocese. The
original figure Archbishop Dosado demanded was P75,000 per month, according to
the Daily Inquirer, although the Archbishop offered no further comment to the
reporter. The article
also states that the parishioners were made to raise millions of pesos recently
to support a church beautification project, which was not wanted by the vast
majority of the parishioners. In
effect, the millions of pesos were wasted for frivolous superficial and
unnecessary beautification of the church’s façade (including but not limited to
a 1 million pesos sound system) – millions of pesos which could rather have
been wisely allocated to budget for the medical needs of the priests.
So why do I even care
about a parish grounds and some old trees half way around the globe from where
I live, and why am I blogging about this? Why can’t I just accept Jollibee parked on the front lawn of
the church and look forward to my next sarsa float and crispy 2-pc bangus with
rice (Oroquieta already has one Jollibee, by the way)? I have two main reasons:
1) This is my wife's home parish in her home town,
and the grounds of this parish, including its acacia trees are as much an
integral and critical part of Oroquieta's heritage, culture, and history as any
other historical landmark in Oroquieta. Cutting down the acacia trees and
destroying the church grounds to put up a Jollibee and a bank is to me and to
my wife's family as offensive and insulting as would be scraping off all the
trees and beautiful landscaping in front of the Provincial Capitol building in Oroquieta
to construct an on-site car dealership. This parish is the beating heart
of a large and vital community that's been dear to me since my first visit in
1996, two years after my wife and I were married, and its hallowed grounds and acacia
trees are inextricably linked to the heritage, culture, and history not only of
the parish, but also the Oroquietanian community in the Philippines and abroad,
and even to the history of the Philippines as a nation. As a little girl,
my wife played the part of an angel at the annual traditional Easter time celebration
of the “Hugos” [the hoisting of ‘angels’ singing ‘Alleluia’], suspended and
hoisted from these grand and ancient acacia trees. Over the last 125
years or so, thousands of native little Oroquietanian girls did the same thing,
and the Oroquietanian diaspora transplanted throughout the Philippines and all
over the world will consider those acacia trees and that church grounds as
something uniquely special and irreplaceable. This is a precious memory, tradition, and cultural/religious
heritage that is now in jeopardy of being lost forever, never to be experienced
again by future generations. Innumerable
baptisms, funerals, and other religious and civic ceremonies passed through
these doors and under these trees, and the prayers, hopes and fears, joys and
sorrows of thousands of individuals and an entire community were witnessed by
this acacia grove. These trees and this parish grounds bore direct witness to
an incident during the Philippine-American War maybe about 1898 or so when Filipino
soldiers under General Rufino Deloso attacked Americans stationed in the parish
convent in a dawn raid. 117 Filipino soldiers were killed on the church grounds
in this attack when the Americans defended their forces with artillery aboard a
troop transport ship anchored on the nearby shore, and were buried behind the
church. Somewhere deep within the
living wood grains of these ancient and gnarled acacia trees, it’s possible
there are concealed shrapnel fragments from those artillery shells of 114
years ago. This same grove of acacia trees witnessed better times 40-some
years later first when President Manuel Quezon came ashore in Oroquieta shortly
after escaping Corregidor, and then when the Americans came and camped nearby again
– this time not as heavy-handed imperialists, but as friends and
brother-in-arms fighting and dying side by side with the Filipinos to liberate the Philippines from the horrors of the Japanese invasion.
2) I care about this issue because I feel that if this lack of due process
from the Church does not get nipped in the bud by the power of the people now,
there is no telling when it will stop. It sets a precedent. Where in the Philippines will this
process of commercial assimilation go the next time, and to what
extent/magnitude will this process of commercial acquisition go with the next
parish? Will they be contented with just cutting down the trees and selling the
land to commercial entities, or will they want more from the next parish,
perhaps posting advertisements on the sides of the church? Chopping
down these acacia trees and selling out to commercial interests now is likely a
signal of things to come. Does the
lack of forethought and fiscal/moral responsibility justify an easy land grab for
commercial purposes? Is this a
message telegraphed from the Church and the Archbishop that this is the new
mandate, the new edict, the way things are going to be? I understand and
sympathize that funds are needed for the medical costs of priests, especially
those who are becoming elderly – it’s a tough economy worldwide, and health
care costs of the aging population is a major issue in every country. But I really think that this is
the wrong way to address this, and if this proposed “solution” is actually
executed, it sets an ill conceived, poorly thought-out precedent for future
resolution of budgetary problems in other dioceses. There has to be a better way than selling out and selling
off Filipino heritage to commercial interests. Why were the parishioners recently pressured and “hit
up” to fund a superficial (and unwanted) beautification project when these
funds could have been wisely earmarked for the health needs of the priests in
the archdiocese?
The people of Oroquieta and the
parishioners won't just sit down and take this desecration of their church
(grounds) by the Church – they are not, and a petition letter with over 10,000
signatures as well as vigorous opposition from many in the community is in
progress. People around the
world have made the mistake numerous times over – selling off our heritage, our
history, our hearts and souls, to make a quick profit from commercial
development. Americans have done
this numerous times, and it almost happened again recently at a hallowed Civil
War battlefield site on which blood was shed to preserve the nation. It was almost sold to the giant
commercial retailer Wal-Mart (which is similar to an SM hypermarket or
Robinson’s supermarket). I surely
hope the same won’t happen in Oroquieta.
I’ll close with a quote from the famous American
naturalist and wilderness preservationist from the 1800’s, John Muir:
“A few minutes
ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling,
tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the
outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden
cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings,
while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the
hills and groves were God's first temples, and the more they are cut down and
hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord
himself.”
― John Muir,
My First Summer
in the Sierra
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| Holy Rosary Church, Oroquieta City, Misamis Occidental, Philippines |
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| Aerial view from steeple/belltower of Holy Rosary Parish, Oroquieta City. Courtesy of Philippine Daily Inquirer. |
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